#inattentional blindness

[lindacasedogs]

Would Your Dog See the Gorilla?

Inattentional Blindness Inattentional blindness (IB) is a cognitive phenomenon that occurs when we experience a reduction in attention to extraneous stimuli (even novel ones) when we are tasked with focusing our attention on something else. In extreme cases, the novel stimulus will not even be perceived. A classic experiment that demonstrates IB was conducted by research psychologists…

[meanya]

Now seems like a good time to introduce a strategy to all my ADHD peers that I've invented so I wouldn't be Late to everything!

It's called...

✨️ Disaster Time ✨️

You know that feeling when you wait til the last second to do something and THEN it seems like THAT'S when everything goes wrong??? Right when you need everything to go smoothly?

You're thinking "the office is only 10 minutes away, so I'll leave 10 minutes before my appointment time!" And THAT'S when it happens; You forget to brush your hair, you can't find your keys, your wallet is missing, your GPS is glitchy, there's traffic, there's a detour, you hit every red light, there's no parking, you enter the wrong door, you can't find the room, etc. There's always SOMETHING.

I used to get SO MAD when everything would go wrong while I was on a time crunch. It seemed like when I least expected it, suddenly every object that could possibly get in my way would get in my way. I used to think, "The universe is out to get me 😔 No matter what I do, everything is gonna go wrong."

And that's when a switch went off in my mind...

Everything is gonna go wrong when I least expect it to!!!

Therefore -> I should stop being surprised and just. Expect it to!!

Every time!

Hence, the invention of ✨️Disaster Time✨️

Disaster Time (noun) the extra time you alot for disasters.

If you just KNOW something's gonna go wrong and then just PLAN for something to go wrong! Then you'll always be ready for it!

Because something is always is gonna happen, right? Something is always gonna go wrong. You don't know what's gonna go wrong, so instead of hoping nothing goes wrong and then being disappointed when something does go wrong, just alot some Disaster Time!

So you think to yourself "the office is only 10 minutes away, so if I give myself 10 extra minutes of Disaster Time for when The Disaster happens, then I'll leave 20 minutes before my appointment time."

Your assignment's due at midnight? Disaster Time! Make it due at 11:40 to account for when the [internet goes out / file gets corrupt / website doesn't load / grammar errors pop up ]

Your hangout is at 8pm? Disaster Time! Give yourself 10 extra minutes to [find your missing phone / stop and grab some gas / brush your hair / quickly eat a snack]

Work at 9? Disaster time! Leave 15 minutes earlier for when [you spill coffee on your shirt / your car light goes off / you forgot something and have to go back]

People used to tell me to do things "early" but I have adhd and time blindness! "Early" doesn't exist!!! "Early" is an abstract concept! And "early" isn't as motivating as "The Last Second"

So instead, alot a set amount of Disaster Time and adjust your "last second" to account for that pesky inevitable Disaster, and you'll always be on time!

If you EXPECT that everything will go wrong EVERY time and just *account* for that when you plan, then you'll always be on time!

[monpalace]

time and warriors. reader is significantly taller than the chain (they are at hip height). no pronouns used (you/your). non-graphic mentions of blood. can be read as romantic or platonic. time and warriors teasing reader. 700 words.

The hiss that echos through the streets is more than enough to pull the Links away from the shopkeep's wares to where you stood just outside the small building.

The Link who had kept your attention off the doorframe and on him, Warriors, was quick to pull you down to his height by the elbow and sit you down.

"I called door, didn't I?" He lets out a quiet huff while gently coaxing your hand away from the flowering bruise across the bridge of your nose. The frown on his face deepens upon seeing a trail of blood already falling down your lips and to your chin. "You didn't hear me?"

"In my defense," you swallow, voice already taking on a nasally tone. Your eyes were screwed closed, doing your best to ignore that pain by focusing on his voice. "You were late and didn't bother making it any clearer."

Even if you couldn't see him, you could imagine the way he rose his brow. "Oh really?"

You hum to the best of your ability, flinching away when the vibrations of it shift your nose too much for your liking. "Really," you sigh back, lips pulling back into a sneer when Warriors taps your nose as though a ghost. "Your— stop— story about the barracks was too engaging for my own good."

He laughs, pulling his hands away when feather-light footsteps approach. Based on the way they were accompanied by the purposeful shifting of armor, you know it's Time with a red potion already in hand.

Warriors steps around so he's instead at your side. His hands reach out so they're just shy of your biceps. "It's nothing too bad," he relays, voice airy as he reaches a hand up to your shoulder blades, nudging you forward so Time could better reach you. "I've seen children with worse injuries."

Time sucks his tongue. "Again?"

"Not again," you scoff, flinching again when the vibrations reaches your nose again. Time is quick to grab your chin and tilt your head back, pressing the mouth of the bottle to your lip. "The roof is too tall. All the others have been stomach-height."

"You're a giant!" Warriors' hand pats your arm comfortingly. He wipes away droplets of blood and water with his glove, grinning while rising to his toes. "You're as tall— if not taller— than the Gerudo! You can't blame the constructors for not taking that into account."

You lower your head when Time releases your chin, eyes slowly prying open when the pain starts to subside. He waits for the bruise to fade into your natural skin tone before reaching a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

"Go easy now," he chides, failing to hide to teasing lilt in his voice. His voice lowers into a murmur the closer the less distance there is between the two of you. "Surely it's no easy labor having to be in a world made for dwarves."

Time presses a kiss to your forehead to hide his chuckle, pulling away and running his tongue over his when the foreign word leaves a strange feeling in his mouth.

Lifting your hand and nudging Time away with a finger, Warriors is quick to take it into with both of his and press several more to each of your finger tips. "It makes me wonder what all else if different where you're from. Do kisses make you feel any better?"

You're quick to swat him away, forcing yourself onto your feet while ducking. "I'm going to find the others. I'm sure the others would find my pain less amusing than you both."

Time lets out a quiet hum, hand raising to tap against your thigh as you pass him. "Have Legend or Hyrule take a look." He tucks a small pouch full of rupees into the lace of your shoe before it leaves his range. "Our apologies," he adds.

It takes you a moment to realize what he had done, to focused on not hitting your head on the doorframe again. When you're finally clear, you take the bag from your shoe and feel the rupees between your fingers.

"Apology accepted, I suppose."

[sauvryn]

[jeanetteirismiller]

“It might surprise some people to hear this, but I also struggle a lot to pay attention in school. I’ve developed ways of compensating.”

“Doodling while I listen to the teacher, re-reading material 3 to 4 times, and quizzing myself with flash cards are all good methods I use.”

“My memory isn’t quite as bad as Alvin’s, but I have no concept of time passing and I rely on a lot of reminder notes and my calendar app.”

“So…yeah. Now you know. I’m great student, but I am working harder than most people think. It’s rewarding, but I wish I could take more breaks.”

[docholligay]

What do you say to the people that question the utility of a watch, since you've got your phone?

If you have difficulty with attention, having a way to check the time without getting pulled into your phone is invaluable. Also, it's easier for me to 'understand' time visually rather than digitally, with the way my brain is wired. I wear a watch probably 80% of the time because it helps me so much with time blindness and attention.

So I like to have nice looking ones! I only have a few because I do spend money on them, so I'd like to have another one, and I think this is classy looking in the way a lot of fandom jewlery isn't always. You wouldn't know what you were looking at unless you knew.

[wibble-wobbegong]

i need henry to come take my eyes out so i can go get new ones i am sick as hell of being a blind little bitch !!!! i swear to god i miss literally everything in this gay ass show

[oliver-and-mushrooms]

I guessed what time it was and said 7 or 6.

It was 9:00.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

bold all that apply to your muse , memories of my childhood edition…

* 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐓

scraped knees,  silent tears in a locked room, slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss,  trying to make sense of the noise,  hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing,  trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide... just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go,  brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

[multi-fandomprompts]

Mom!Danny, Dad!Vlad, Kids!Dani and Dan, Batfam and Misunderstandings

Dp x Dc Prompt:

So a bit of a twist on the usual dp x dc trope; Vlad is the one who has come to live in the DC universe for a fresh start after he’s done his redemption thing and is getting therapy and he’s traveling around DC basically starting his company and wealth from scratch but without overshadowing people(still sketchy but what business man isn’t). Vlad happens to be in Gotham when Danny(18 y/o) comes to visit with Dani(Ellie)(5 y/o) and Dan(3 y/o) for a long weekend. Dick, Jason and Damian are the first ones to see the little family in a Batburger Danny dragged Vlad into. The little family is concerning for a number of reasons not because they are obviously(to a trained eye) not human(no nonhuman racism here) but the fact that Vlad and Danny are their usual antagonistic selves(Vlad is in a better place and a better parent then any one including Vlad thought he could be but him and Danny will eternally have beef) Vlad is very familiar with Danny and the obvious age difference between Danny and Vlad(with the kids and their ages added in the picture isn’t looking good). Encounters like this happen with all of the Batfam and Danny, Vlad and the kids behavior and conversation snippets the Batfam hear do nothing to clear up the Batfam’s misunderstandings. It all ends at gala; Danny(looking gorgeous in a ice blue dress with actual ghost ice crystals on it and coming in dramatically in a white fur coat from the Far Frozen) is Vlad’s date(the kids are left at the hotel with their ghost babysitter) and the bats manage to get Danny alone and corner him after the gala and while Batfam has the best of intentions this is quite literally none of their business(and Danny and Vlad were not blind to someone following them all this time) and though Danny was quite capable of taking care of himself he calls for Vlad with his aura and to say Vlad was pissed at what he finds when he answers Danny’s call is an understatement. Danny and Vlad don’t explain anything about the kids or what they are but they do take the Batfam to task for stalking, invasion of privacy, illegal interrogation and overall being nosy assholes who don’t know how to mind their own business. Vlad and Danny then leave and the Batfam are left with a lot to think about(hopefully), when Vlad moves on from Gotham at the end of the weekend Danny takes the kids home until the next vacation to visit Vlad and Vlad stays out of Gotham from then on.

(PS. This is good Fenton parents AU they are trying their best to make up to Danny and Jazz for what their inattention has cost their kids but their friendship with Vlad is firmly over(the only reason they haven’t Ended him is because of their grandkids).)

[aerynwrites]

Worthy

Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

A/N: based on this request! I hope you enjoy this nonny (and everyone else!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Self-Esteem Issues, insecurity, reader feels unworthy of Gale, comparisons to Mystra, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff at the end, Gale is a sweetheart.

*Not beta read, apologies for any grammatical or blatant errors*

The stars offer you no solace tonight. 

Instead their gentle twinkling light seems only to mock you, taking you back to the memory Gale shared with you from his meeting with her. 

Mystra. 

The goddess who has held so much of Gale’s past in her hands and apparently still seems to have him in her grasp. 

Your self worth has always been something you’ve struggled with, especially in relationships. So, when Gale showed interest in you all those weeks ago you had a hard time accepting it, especially when you found out about his past with the goddess. 

But you’d started to love past that. As each day with Gale he proved his love for you more and more, with each little action or sweet word. He told you of the betrayal he faced at Mystras hand, how he had been cast aside and now with the orb in his chest…

You shake your head. 

All of that has shattered now. That tiny voice in your head coming back full force after your visit to Mystra’s shrine. After Gale had seemed so excited about the prospect of earning his goddess’ forgiveness by giving her the crown. 

You have to fight the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. 

Even now, Gale is off at Sorcerers' Sundries trying to learn more about the crown, asking Rolan if there are any more tomes he may have on hand.

That little voice is loud tonight. Louder than it’s ever been as you gaze at the stars from the balcony of your shared room at the Elfsong. Telling you that you were right all along. You’re not worthy of a man like Gale. 

How can you be? How can you ever compare to a goddess? 

The tears finally slip down your cheeks then, unable to contain the emotions that have been building in your chest. 

And as if the goddess herself wants to torment you, it’s at that same moment that the door to your room creaks open, Gales' excited voice drifting through the air. 

“You’ll never believe what I was able to find at Sorcerous Sundries,” he says happily, and you hear him set something down somewhere behind you as you try to wipe fruitlessly at your tears. 

You can hear Gale approach where you're standing, and you turn your face away just as he comes up to your side. 

“Rolan truly is a visionary, he was the one able to point me in the direction of-“ 

A particularly harsh sniffle from you makes Gale stop in his tracks, brows furrowing in concern. 

“What’s wrong, my love? Are you alright?” He asks, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. 

Just another reminder of where you feel you fall short of Mystra. 

You step out of his embrace, missing the way his face further crumples, confused at your withdrawn state. 

Gale is not blind, nor is he deaf or inattentive. He knows of your struggles when it comes to relationships and your own self image, you’ve told him as much. But things were good - you’ve both made great strides when it comes to your relationship. 

So why are you pulling away? 

You shake your head, still wiping at the tears that won’t stop. “I’m fine, Gale.” 

He takes a step closer to you, frowning deeper when you take a step back. “Clearly not,” he says gently. “Please, you know you can confide in me, as I have you. Talk to me, my love.” 

Finally, you turn to look at him fully, face hot and eyes wet with tears. 

“Will you go back to her?” You finally ask, voice cracking through the lump in your throat. 

Gale looks puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” 

You take a deep breath, chest heaving. “To Mystra, Gale. Are you-“ your words break as you fight back a sob. “She asked for the crown in return for removing the orb, correct?” 

“Yes, but I have yet to see why that is causing you such upset-“ 

“Because she’s a goddess!” You cry, tears coming down harder than before. “She’s offering you forgiveness, for you to be back in her good graces and I-“ a sob interrupts your words. “Why would you ever stay with me when you can go back to her? Why do you love me?” 

Gale’s lips part in surprise, eyes widening as it finally settles in why you’re upset. And if you could see through your tears, you would see the heartbreak that displays itself on his face. 

“She’s beautiful,” you continue, “and I-I’m this!” You gesture at yourself, heart threatening to snap in two. 

How did you ever think he would stay? 

You’re just about to turn and leave the balcony, leave the room in an effort to leave before he can prove you right. But before you can escape two warm hands cup your face, thumbs wiping at the tears that still cling to your cheeks. 

“Put those vile thoughts from your mind. You are a sight to behold, more beautiful than any god or goddess,” Gale whispers, brown eyes searching your own as he pulls you close. “Mystra may still be my goddess but that is all,” he says firmly. 

“I did agree to bring her the crown. But only so she could take this orb from my chest. Forgiveness be damned. I would not care if she took the crown and never looked upon me again,” he admits, thumbs moving down to trace gently over your lips. 

“I could not bear the thought of living the rest of my life with you with that threat looming over us. I agreed for you. For us.” 

His words are so full of conviction as he whispers them into the air between you, his lips almost brushing yours from how close he stands. You want to believe him, and in truth you do. You do believe him, because he’s shown you time and time again that he chooses you over anything. He even chose you over the crown, the chance at godhood. 

Yet that voice is still there, even if it’s quieter than before. 

“But…why?” you ask again, voice matching his in a whisper. “Why do you choose me when you’re worthy of so much…more.” 

Gale presses his forehead to your own, your noses bumping together as his lips brush your cheek. 

“If anyone is unworthy in this situation, it is me,” he tells you softly. “A man fallen from the grace of the gods. I have failed myself and you in more ways than one and yet you still remain by my side. Please…” His lips brush yours once more. “Let me do the same for you. Don’t push me away.” 

Before you can respond, Gale presses his lips to yours, arms moving to slide around your waist as he pulls you close. 

This time you don’t stop him. 

This time you stay. You let him kiss you and let him embrace you as he pours his love into you. 

Only when he pulls away do you finally find words. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Gale's lips tilt up in a small smile as he shakes his head. “Do not apologize to me, my love. Just know that I love you to the ends of the universe, and hold that love in your heart whenever those thoughts of doubt try to creep back in.” 

You nod, moving to wrap your arms around him as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “I love you too.” 

Gale hums low in his chest as he holds you tighter, swaying gently in the cool night air of the balcony. 

And when you pull away just enough to look up at the stars…you swear they shine just a bit brighter than before.

[mingtinysworld]

Lock your windows

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: smut, "dark" romance

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After a discussion with your experimental boyfriend, you two are able to play out one of your long awaited fantasies

Warnings: MDNI, CNC, "stalker" wooyoung, role playing?? oral (m/f receiving), fingering, mention of a safe word, it seems noncon but just read til the end please trust me😭

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: idk why but the idea of wooyoung being a stalker is so hot to me. I also know he would be such an experimental partner to have, it's driving me insane. I need him so very badly

You and your friends screech in laughter as someone says something hilarious. You and your friend group have been out for a couple hours now, drinking, eating, shopping, just having the best night out ever. The air is warm and stale, the humidity making your hair puff up in frizziness.

As you stumble along the path in your black high heels and sparkly silver dress you stand out, like a shiny pearl in the ocean. The glitter makes shadows on the dimly lit walls, making the light bounce off. You start laughing at something again when you suddenly stop.

A shiver slithers up your spine and makes the hairs of your nape stand up in alarm. Your friends realize you’re not following them anymore and they stare in confusion. They ask if you’re ok but you’re too busy looking around, trying to find the source of the eerie feeling.

You can’t seem to find anything in the shadows and tentatively take steps forward. Your friends look at each other with raised eyebrows but choose to shrug it off. You keep walking but you don’t say anything until you reach your doorstep. They say goodnight and leave you to your apartment.

You walk in and throw yourself on the cushiony couch, resting your eyes from exhaustion. You tap your foot quietly and hum a random tune that’s been stuck in your head all day when you hear a distant clatter from the direction of your bedroom and your eyes shoot open and foot stops tapping. You stand up curiously and walk towards your room.

As you walk in you can feel a cold breeze and you blink in confusion. You see that your window is wide open, blinds pulled apart. You don’t remember leaving your window open but you must’ve been in a rush and didn’t even realize. You shake your head at your inattentiveness and close it shut. You return to your spot on the couch and shut your eyes once more.

There’s clattering coming from the same direction again and you sit up in alarm this time. You warily go to your room, trying to inspect what the noise is. You see the window is open again, making the curtain billow in the wind.

“What the fuck.” You exclaim. You’re convinced you’re going crazy. You’re sure you closed it, but maybe the day is really getting to your head. You take a step and are thrown down to the ground in an instant. You gasp from the impact, managing to catch yourself on your elbows, but your knees are on fire from the carpet burn.

You try to turn on your back and find that your movements are restricted from a weight on your lower back. It feels like a boot is pressing you down, pushing the air out of your lungs. You breathe in tightly and your whole body tenses. You whimper in pain and the pressure lifts a little and you sigh in relief.

“Hi my love, we finally meet.” The stranger speaks with a low tone.

“W-who are you?” You wheeze out.

“I’m your lover of course, who else would I be?” He says matter of factly. You furrow your eyebrow in confusion.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You try to talk without your voice betraying your fear. He chuckles at that and completely removes his boot.

“Oh you’ll understand what I mean soon.”

He reaches down to turn you over. As you lay on your back in the dark room, you observe his face as best you can, the only light provided being the single lamppost outside. He has long jet black hair and dark glimmering eyes. His nose has a perfect point and his mouth is turned up at the corners in a sneer.

He also studies you in turn. Your beauty up close does not compare to the months of watching you from afar. The hundreds of photographs hanging in his room pale in comparison. He’s filled with so much pure excitement at seeing you face to face finally.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. For the day I get to caress your face, for the day I get to hear your sinful noises brought out by me. I’ve been very, very patient and this is my reward.” He looks into your eyes deeply, as if he’s mentally willing you to believe his words.

You feel a shiver go up your spine as you realize that the man is completely serious. He truly believes his delusions and it isn’t up for a discussion. He looks down at his silver watch, as if he’s on a mission. With a growing dread and arousal you realize that he is on a mission.

You are the mission.

You continue to stare at him with wide, fearful eyes as he straddles your still form. He leans into your neck and just stays there, nose taking in your scent deeply. He inhales and exhales and groans quietly. With his mouth muffled against your collarbone, he speaks.

“I can just smell the arousal coming off of you. You really love this huh.” You let out a small whimper at that and he raises his head.

“Don’t worry angel, Wooyoung is here to take care of you. I got you.” He speaks with a promising tone.

He leans in once more and he can feel your rapid heartbeat, which only aids in exciting him further. He kisses you with ease, almost intimately, caressing your bare arms and leaving goosebumps in his wake. You try to use your knee to push him off and he growls into your open mouth. The sweet kiss turns into an animalistic one. He gropes your breasts and kisses you breathless. As he rocks back and forth across your abdomen you can feel his growing bulge.

You feel your cunt throb emptily, needing something you’re too ashamed to admit. You submit to his feverish kisses and try to relax your body. He notices the change and grins in response.

“There you are, my love. Let’s get to the bed, shall we? I’d rather take you on a softer material.” He mockingly pouts and furrows his eyebrows. He lifts you up with ease and gently sets you on the bed. His hands settle underneath your shirt, slightly tickling your stomach. You squirm in hopes that he touches you sometime soon, or else you’ll explode.

He trails down your body, reaching your flimsy shorts and teasingly blows air on you. You buck your hips instinctively and he holds you down, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“Nuh uh baby, I thought you were gonna be good for me?” He cocks his head sideways, questioning you.

“Yes, yes, I will, I promise.” You babble, feeling fucked out already.

He gives you a soft smile and rubs your thighs soothingly before landing a harsh smack. Your body jolts in reaction but you manage to hold in your yelp. Without wasting another second he pulls your shorts aside and dives in.

You muffle your moan into the palm of your hand, feeling like you need to scream. The stimulation is making you feel relief but so much torture at the same time. Wooyoung’s expert tongue is lapping up your slick, almost like a hungry animal and when he looks up at you, his gaze is as sharp as a predator.

His finger finds your clit with ease and twists and pulls as you mewl pathetically. Not once does he come up for air, he practically buries his head in your pussy, prodding his tongue into every crevice.

“You taste so sweet mmhh.” Wooyoung moans into your pussy, sending vibrations up your body. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you even closer. You have to bite on your hand now to keep yourself quiet. He slightly bites down on your clit and you let out a shriek. Your body jolts up and you cum with a shuddering breath.

He finally removes himself from you and stares down at the state of your cunt. It’s a sopping wet mess, covered in spit and slick. His face is also covered in your juices, and he greedily licks up what he can. You close your eyes in an attempt to recover, but it’s interrupted by his fingers.

He rams two fingers deep into you until he’s knuckle deep. He finds your g-spot immediately and you see stars, making you hold on to his wrist in a desperate attempt, but he simply pins your hand to your side. You grind your hips deeper into his fingers, needing to feel more. He reads your mind and adds in a third finger.

You moan at the stretch and clamp around him. He looks at your face intently, watching your screwed up face of pleasure. He wastes no time adding a final fourth finger. You gasp at the sensation and convulse from the intensity. Your whole body shakes as you reach the peak of your climax. You cry out and gush around Wooyoung’s slender fingers and he fucks you through your orgasm.

You groan lightly, feeling the energy escape your body. Wooyoung softly caresses your stomach to bring you down and you close your eyes and breathe out. He crawls to you slowly, and you open one eye from feeling the dip of the mattress.

Wooyoung takes your hand and puts it over his hardened bulge. He grinds into your hand slowly, letting out groans of satisfaction. Due to your exhaustion he chooses to go easy on you. He pulls down his pants and gets closer to your awaiting mouth. He slides in slowly, only going halfway. You let your mouth go slack and have him use you gently. He moves in and out, poking the inside of your cheek occasionally. You land a soft hand on him once more and attempt to help out. He throws his head back and enjoys the sensation of your warm mouth.

With a few more soft thrusts he pulls out of your mouth and cums all over your breasts. Once he comes down from his high he grabs towels to clean you up. He gently dabs at your used cunt and slick thighs, including your now cum stained breasts. You feel sleep calling your name and let out a content sigh. Wooyoung notices and lets out a giggle whilst cuddling up to your side.

"Thank you for trusting me baby." He expresses his gratitude by giving small pecks to your face.

"I told you I wouldn't have to use my safe word. You were perfect." You mumble, only half awake.

"I know love, but it's always good to be prepared. It would kill me if I ever hurt you." He speaks reverently, like you're a goddess to worship.

You give him a grunt of acknowledgement to let him know you're still listening even though your tired body is screaming for sleep. Wooyoung looks at your serene face, remembering how wild and frenzied you had looked only moments prior. Before you're completely out he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"I guess this is what happens when you don't lock your windows baby."

[sometimesoliloquy]

When I started researching ADHD, learning that "time blindness" is a thing, particularly, nearly exploded my brain and made me feel so validated after so many years of feeling shame for my chronic lateness, missing deadlines, etc. I wish I'd known so much earlier!

Inattentive ADHD

Future ADHD

[yandere-toons]

Matthew Patel

Romantic Headcanons - Yandere

WARNING: violence, death, implied stalking, mentions of religious concepts, toxic mindset.

From the moment you invite Matthew into your life, he will carry that memory to his deathbed. The bond you forged that day is unbreakable and immortal for him: he will go blind to all other reasons for living, consumed with rage at your absence, and ecstatic at any sign of your favour.

Talk of other suitors sends Matthew into a frenzy from which he will not emerge until this obstacle to his happiness is laid low. Dispute over the value of certain traits leaves Matthew resentful—of himself for not being better, of the other person for possessing what he lacks, and of the universe for cursing him with such horrid luck.

When such a person speaks your name, Matthew is driven by his own insecurities to loathe them. The sound of their voice becomes like a cheese grater to his ears, a reminder of how close he is to losing his world for the second time, and from thence into a sound he will fight to the death to silence.

The look of this person, particularly when they light up at the mere mention of you and receive such a look in kind, is a ghastly thing. Matthew's takeaway is one of doubt and bad memories, of all the similarities to Ramona's waning interest that he had been too immature and inattentive to rectify. He vows not to make the same mistake twice.

Seemingly overnight, Matthew transforms from a brooding presence lurking in your shadow to a wellspring of offers to solve even the smallest of issues. He makes a habit of dropping to one knee and delivering a Pagliacci-esque soliloquy about how deep his affection runs, professing that you've become his whole world and that to lose you would leave him with nothing.

Despite your promise not to "betray" him, as Matthew so graciously puts it, he fears it would be a mistake to let his guard down. He believes you were sincere at the time, but Ramona's flippant attitude has left him anxious that you may change your tune and turn your back on him for no apparent reason.

For years, Matthew sought answers as to why she hurt him: on bad days, he blames her for playing with his emotions; on worse days, he blames himself for not trying hard enough to become someone she wanted. Now that he has another shot at human connection, this earth will burn before it slips away from him.

Matthew's actions arise from a peculiar sense of justice: he views himself as retribution sent down upon all those who have wronged you. By daring to replace him, their way of looking after you is inherently and unforgivably flawed. Someone who could, in reality, be quite decent will devolve in his mind into a parasite who takes advantage of you.

Whether they are cruel or kind-hearted, what obsesses Matthew and keeps him stewing for potentially years is the notion that they've robbed him of his one chance at happiness. So long as they keep you company, he sees his future darkening.

What should be a private affair, Matthew turns into a spectacle: he takes to the stage in his most flamboyant attire and declares war, goading his enemy to meet their doom at his hand. Everything, from the venue to the battle itself, is a power play, a performance art in which he displays his prowess for all to admire and envy.

Once he has struck the first blow, there is no version of events where Matthew shows mercy or admits defeat. The harder they fight, the prouder he is to butcher them. Their death will be a triumph, a testament to the fact that he is strong enough to win this war. Anyone who rolls over in the face of his challenge must not be truly committed to you and therefore deserves to feel his wrath for stringing you along.

Coming to over the shiny remains of his enemy, Matthew forgets his rage and revells in the thought of having the sole being who brings him happiness. Ready to pick up where he left off and confident he's earned that right, Matthew throws himself at you and proclaims how thrilled he is to be together again.

Matthew struggles to move beyond the past and to envision a future where he is alone. Having spent much of his life pursuing others, Matthew has no concept of living for himself. He stakes his survival on the volume of applause at the end of every performance, and in the home environment, his tendency to cling to petty recognition has taken root in all interactions.

This emotional hunger reveals itself in the unnecessary extremes to which Matthew proves his devotion, convinced that the obsequious nature of his company and continual sacrifices gives them meaning. He jumps at every opportunity to be near you, no exceptions, afraid that missing even one will be termed neglect and spell the ruin of his life with you.

At his best, Matthew is an unrelenting thespian who serenades you with ballads and calligraphic poetry. But at his worst, he is an unstable and violent creature full of pent-up rage, who conspires with Daemonettes to bind your soul to his, making it virtually impossible to give him up for another.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (13)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, trauma, regret, depression, mention of a suicide attempt ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Daemon understood better than anyone what it meant to be the second son, the one who would inherit nothing. It seemed to him that, in contrast to Viserys, he was a blazing fire like a true dragon, giving warmth, light and shelter to those close to his heart, burning those whom he saw as his enemies.

Viserys was always blind, soft-spoken, lacking strong character and clear opposition when things got too far out of hand.

This trait of his had been carefully exploited by Otto Hightower over the years, putting himself in the role of his friend and adviser, playing his part with an extraordinary devotion from which he felt like throwing up.

He knew it was pure courtesy, perfectly calculated, taking advantage of the mourning of the entire Red Keep and his inattention after Aemma's tragic death he slipped his brother his daughter under his nose.

Looking at her on their wedding day, standing in a long, ornate gown he thought she looked like a child on whom someone had put layers of cloth and precious stones; overwhelmed by it all she looked down at her feet, around her nails the red wounds he had seen on her hands ever since.

On that one day, knowing what was awaiting her, he truly felt compassion for her.

After that, however, he stopped.

She could have built her independence, committed herself to the needs of the kingdom, she, however, in the company of that cunt, Criston Cole, gave herself over to prayer and mortification, obediently following her father's orders.

As a woman, she was in his eyes pitiful, weepy, whiny, merely pretending to be saintly and virtuous, having in fact nothing to do with these qualities.

His feelings about her and her father moved involuntarily to her children.

He recognised the dragon's blood in them and treated them differently from the Hightowers, yet he was unable or unwilling to bond with them, seeing how they were suckled to their mother's breasts, which did not allow them to think or breathe on their own.

He watched from the sidelines, observing from afar as Rhaenyra and Alicent's children trained together, how a divide formed between them. He knew that once they grew up and understood what was really at stake, they would throw themselves at each other's throats.

He knew perfectly well whose right to the throne he would support.

Aegon was a drunkard and a cunt, Helaena was quiet and withdrawn, Aemond was sullen and vindictive − he thought with amusement that each of them had inherited the worst from his brother and their mother.

However, he couldn't help but show at least a little compassion and understanding for his brother's second son, who had been punished by the gods, left without a dragon of his own.

Some part of him wanted to speak to him, to get to know him, to see through him as a kind of reflection of himself, but on those rare occasions when he was with Leana and his daughters in the Red Keep he never made such a gesture, which he later, though he did not want to admit it to himself, regretted.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.

He could see with what admiration he looked at him, how much he longed to hear at least one word of appreciation from him, any gesture of interest.

He knew that if he could decide who his father-figure would be he would choose not Viserys or Cole but him, and he pretended not to notice that.

Once though, he noticed something that surprised him; strolling through the cloisters of the Red Keep he spotted his nephew and Rhaenyra's only daughter standing side by side in the square, leaning over the table filled with the various weapons. He smirked under his breath as he walked closer, wanting to listen to their conversation.

They were betrothed.

A clumsy attempt by his brother to avoid what he felt in his bones had to happen.

He saw his niece point her finger at one of the weapons lying on the wooden tabletop, a steel black spiked ball hooked on a chain to a special handle.

"What is it? It looks scary." She said with amusement, her voice light and pleasant; he thought with surprise that his nephew's grim and stormy nature did not deter her.

Alicent's son grunted loudly, lifting his chin slightly in a gesture of superiority and intelligence that he hated so much about the Hightowers, clearly proud to be able to speak on a subject in which his knowledge was extensive.

"It's a flail. A very heavy weapon requiring great strength and agility in its use. It literally crushes the opponent." He said, forcing himself into a low, mature, masculine voice, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his hair in a slight disarray from the few duels he had already had.

"That weapon looks like the kind you die from in agony." Mumbled his niece, tentatively touching her fingertip to one of the spikes – her uncle pushed her away immediately, surprised by her gesture, grabbing her hand by the wrist.

"Are you insane? What are you doing? It's sharp after all, you could have hurt yourself." He said angrily, but she only blinked, surprised by his outburst, and smiled indulgently, showing him her finger.

"I know, silly. I wouldn't want something like that to hit me in the face." She sneered, raising her eyebrows in amusement, joy in her gaze and embarrassment at the fact that he still hadn't let her go.

She took a step closer to him, but he stepped back quickly and lowered his gaze, he noticed in disbelief that his pale cheeks had turned scarlet.

"Not here. Later." He muttered letting go of her wrist immediately. He heard her quiet sigh of disappointment as she nodded and walked away without another word.

He watched as, a moment later, his nephew cursed under his breath, pulling off his leather gloves and moved after her, grabbing her at one of the side entrances by her arm. She turned to him with a smile as if she was sure he would follow her, her lips placing a quick, brief kiss on his cheek.

He let her go, embarrassed and blushing, looking sideways, muttered something, and she nodded and disappeared behind the walls. His nephew returned to the square as if nothing had happened, a lazy, barely visible smile on his face; Aegon looked at him from afar with a look full of pity, as soon as his younger brother came closer he said loud and clear:

"What a twat you are."

He snarled under his breath as he heard Criston Cole immediately respond to his remark by saying that it was inappropriate for a prince to use such vocabulary, his younger brother only gave him a grim look indicating that he himself was torn internally, ashamed of his weakness.

He thought then, moving ahead, amused, that his brother had inadvertently contributed to something that was certainly not his original plan.

These kids really wanted it.

He felt shame because, looking at them, he wondered how he really felt about his wife. He recognised that she was his companion and lover, whom he respected and cherished, but she was not his friend, he could not allow her into the depths of his heart.

Only when he saw Rheanyra did he feel something more; he had the feeling that the air around them quivered when they spoke, he sensed that she understood perfectly the source and reason of his impulsive nature.

Despite this, he found his life peaceful and prosperous, and the death of his wife in childbirth was something shocking and painful to him. He covered his grief with laughter, the thought that he had wasted years of her life, a wonderful, beautiful woman who deserved someone to love her with all her being, giving her something more than a substitute of affection.

Then, however, his nephew lost an eye and everything fell apart like a house of cards, showing how weak their family actually was.

The events that followed wove together in his mind, the closeness of Rhaenyra and their later nuptials brought him a sense of relief, as if two parts that belonged together had been joined.

He watched her daughter from afar, the sadness and grief painted on her after all still so young and innocent face made her seem to him pale and lifeless, at once beautiful, cool and inaccessible, walking around Dragonstone like a ghost, not speaking to anyone despite how much his daughters tried to get close to her.

She was warm, helpful and welcoming when anyone approached her, but did not raise any discussions herself, eating and drinking little at suppers, immersed in her thoughts.

He knew that she was with them only in body.

He decided not to make the same mistake as with his nephew and offer her his interest, his support in the ironic and mischievous form peculiar to him, the only way in which he could show his affection to anyone.

What surprised him was how much she clung to him, how often she cried during their walks together; despite her innate vulnerability she had a strength of character that he appreciated – she was inclined to rash actions or anger, but she was also not docile or naive, she tried to find order in the chaos that surrounded her.

Only he and his niece had been invited to Aegon's nuptials to Helaena; Alicent had expressed in her letter her concern that the meeting of their children might affect them badly and reawaken old wounds, which his wife took as a reasonable argument, and indeed, albeit reluctantly, it was only the two of them who travelled to the Red Keep.

The whole ceremony in the Great Sept dragged on endlessly for him; he looked around, bored, unwilling to stare at the horrified, sad faces of his nephew and niece, testament to the fact that neither of them wanted this marriage.

The wedding supper held in the fortress was lavish with dancing and music, lords from all over the kingdom descended and gathered in the throne room at large, long oak tables filled to the brim with food. Sitting down in his seat next to his wife, he glanced sideways and noticed a figure looking at him intensely, the One-Eyed Prince staring at him coolly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief and admiration, finding that he looked like a man, well-built and muscular, tall, his hair much longer, a black eye patch covering the left side of his face.

He grinned with amusement and mockery, wondering to what he owed his attention, and his nephew only hummed under his breath, looking away, apparently discouraged by his reaction.

He wondered, looking at him, taking a sip of wine from his goblet, if he had shown him fatherly concern then, taken him under his wing, separated him from Alicent and Otto, he would be a different man now.

Several toasts were made to the bride and groom, during each of which Aegon drank his cup to the bottom, clearly intent on fulfilling his marital duty completely drunk.

"Stop it. You've had enough." Growled his younger brother, taking his goblet from him with an aggressive flick of his hand, setting it impatiently far from his older brother's reach.

Aegon slapped him angrily on the shoulder, mumbling something under his breath; his younger brother stood up, towering over him, showing him wordlessly that if he touched him again he would regret it.

"Aemond." Said their mother, this green whore, who was looking at them in pain, her hands folded in front of her as if to pray.

His nephew rolled his eyes and left the hall by a side entrance, furious, unwilling and unable to look at it apparently; Aegon with a wide grin reached for his cup again and to his despair took the empty seat next to him that had been occupied earlier by his wife, now conversing with the King.

"Uncle! So many years." He mumbled, tapping him on the back in a friendly, masculine greeting. He rolled his eyes, amused, smelling the stench of alcohol and sweat from him.

"As you can see, everything stays in the family. I don't know how I'm going to survive this. After all, she'll surely cry. Fuck." He muttered, taking a deep, catchy sip from his cup, tilting it so that he drank it all at once.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling discomfort at the thought that he felt compassion for Helaena for what was about to happen to her.

He glanced at her sad, petite figure; she sat gazing off into the distance somewhere, dreamy.

He wondered as he watched her if she realised what awaited her.

"She doesn't seem to fully understand what I will have to do to her. After all, she's my sister. I don't want to hurt her. She's odd and I don't understand her, but I don't want her to fucking cry." He mumbled out covering his face with his hand, his voice breaking with his every word – he drew in air loudly as if he was out of breath, and he looked at him not knowing what to do.

What was he supposed to answer him?

"Be gentle and kind. Make her feel as little pain as possible. You know very well that how it will look lies in your hands. If you want her to suffer as little as possible, stop drinking because it will take you a fucking hour." He growled, taking the cup from his hand just as his younger brother had earlier, and wondered if that was what he meant then, if he knew his condition would only worsen whatever was to await them next.

"You pity yourself and you smell of alcohol and sweat. Go take a bath or do you want to lay on her like that? Give her some dignity for goodness sake." He said coolly, looking ahead indifferently; his nephew swallowed loudly, sitting beside him like a little rebuked child, playing with his fingers.

He wondered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye if his brother had ever spoken to him about it, if he had prepared him and explained to him how he should behave.

"All my life I've envied him. My brother. He had someone of his own who cared about him. I think he really loved her, uncle. Now I barely recognise anyone myself. I'm not sure any of us are the same person anymore. Only Helaena has remained the same − innocent and ignorant. That's because she doesn't step outside her mind. If she did, she would have gone mad like we did."

It turned out that he was partly right.

What he didn't expect was that when they arrived all together as a family after several years in King's Landing to defend Luke's rights to inherit the Driftmark these two would be lying in bed with each other on their very first night.

"If you tell me you still want to marry him, I will help you. I'd rather you be his wife than lead you and him into a scandal that could destroy your mother. Your betrothal has never been called off, the king will easily prove that no other plans for you can be in force against his decision. But if you decide not to, I will personally see to it that you never see him again and that no letter of yours leaves Dragonstone. Make a manly, mature decision with all its consequences, and stop wallowing over yourself."

He told her then, wanting her to understand that they could not stand in the middle, that they had to choose, or their decisions would drag them all down.

Watching them in the throne room audience, however, the greedy, desperate gaze of his nephew fixed on her as if he wanted to devour her gave him no illusions.

What this boy was telling himself was one thing, but what he was feeling was another.

It was this thought that made him decide to question Alicent's decision in front of everyone, wanting to hear his brother's opinion on the matter, the only one that really counted. He had expected nothing but objections from both sides, however, against the desperate attempts of their mothers, his nephew and his niece's daughter made a decision that did not surprise him at all.

It was enough for her to get up from her seat and walk out to make him press his lips together in rage and follow her out, exactly as he had done then, in the courtyard, when he had thrown himself after her, and she knew perfectly well that he would do so, knowing his nature.

He wondered if she had kissed him this time too, if the tension between them had eased.

He thought that this marriage might actually calm the emotions a little, especially as his brother was over his deathbed.

This union was forcing both parties to be cautious, which could be mutually beneficial.

"She has decided that she wants to stay in the Red Keep until I return." His wife said to him, putting her black leather gloves on her hands, walking beside him towards the dragon's lair. He stopped, looking at her in disbelief, furious.

This was not the plan.

"What?" He growled, looking at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "You're leaving my daughter in the care of that whore and her father-traitor?"

He saw that she smiled at his words emphasising that in his eyes she was his child, that he had taken responsibility for her and protected her as any true father should.

"She asked me to do this. I imagine they both want to clarify a lot of things with each other. Since the nuptials are to take place as soon as possible there is no need to fret, I will personally take her back in a few days." She replied calmly, and he let out a loud breath, impatiently licking his lips.

It was a bad idea, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't protest and that was his mistake.

The next day he lost two of his daughters.

Rhaenyra, his brother's heir to the throne fell with a groan when envoys reported to her that her father was dead, that her brother had been crowned king, that they had imprisoned their daughter.

She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at her womb; at first he thought it was despair, but then he saw the pool of blood beneath her feet, her terrified gaze, her lips parted in agony.

They both knew it was too soon.

Their daughter already looked like a tiny infant, but sadly her fate was sealed; she wasn't moving or breathing, she was cold, looking more like a doll than a human being.

He felt that he had to leave the fortress; he followed exactly where he always went out with her, with one of his daughters, to the sea itself, and he fell to his knees, breathing heavily, not knowing what he was supposed to do with the rage and chaos that overtook his mind.

He wanted to mount Caraxes and burn them all.

However, his cousin and daughters had cooled his ardour, recognising that they needed to prepare, gather an army, make a plan of action.

He recognised that it was only female sentiment, a weakness that kept them from making the risky decision that his whole life consisted of.

When his wife finally recovered from her brief mourning, despite his entreaties, she did not listen to him and decided to send her sons as her representatives, wanting to extract the pledge of allegiance from those who had paid her tribute many years ago.

He had thought it nonsensical, however, when Luke returned from Storm's End it turned out that his step son had been a naive idiot.

"You flew after him? You flew after him knowing he could imprison you, use you as your mother's weakness? Fucking fool." He growled, turning away from the table with fury, massaging his face with his palm, not believing he could have done such a thing.

"Daemon." Said Rhaenyra in a voice trembling with despair; she looked at her son, trying to calm herself. "What happened next?"

"He brought her. Someone hit her, mother, and I think she tried to take her own life. There were cut marks on her wrists." He muttered, forcing himself into a calm tone of voice.

He turned towards him, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

She had done this for them, so they could attack the Red Keep without fear.

She wanted to make a manly decision, to sacrifice herself, his brave daughter, his little dragon.

"Gods." Said his wife, clutching at her womb, apparently involuntarily recalling the moments when she had carried her under her heart, the maternal tears of pain in her eyes.

"And then?" He finished for her, seeing that she didn't have the strength to get anything else out, Luke swallowed hard, afraid to look at him.

"I told her to run away with me, but she didn't agree. She told me to tell you that she loves you and that she remains faithful to you, mother." Said with difficulty, Jace slammed his fist on the table, furious.

"That fucking bastard purposely made her stay. He planned this, he never had any intention of marrying her!" He said red with anger and he glanced at him indifferently, sighing heavily.

"And then what? He let you just walk away? No one else saw you?" He asked further, pretending not to have heard his outburst; Jace pressed his lips together, furious. Luke shook his head quickly.

"N-no, I was surprised, but no. Forgive me, I had to see her, make sure that she is still alive." He muttered, and he sighed heavily, placing both of his hands on the table, leaning over it, and closed his eyes, trying to focus.

He let her see him without any other witnesses and then let him go even though he hated him, even though he could have trapped and humiliated him.

Why?

A memory flashed through his mind, the way his nephew cursed as he fought with himself to finally run after her, her smile full of reassurance as she turned to him knowing he would follow her, his blush of embarrassment and lazy smile as her lips placed a soft, warm kiss on his cheek, her proof of her devotion and affection that he craved so much.

He had never stopped loving her.

This stone-cold, dangerous man had done something for her, surely after she had tried to take her own life.

"Bring me a parchment and a quill. I need to speak with my nephew."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[writingtoolofdubiousintegrity]

i suddenly feel very different about all those "has to be approved by a judge" passages in procedural law

Supervised AI isn't

It wasn't just Ottawa: Microsoft Travel published a whole bushel of absurd articles, including the notorious Ottawa guide recommending that tourists dine at the Ottawa Food Bank ("go on an empty stomach"):

https://twitter.com/parismarx/status/1692233111260582161

After Paris Marx pointed out the Ottawa article, Business Insider's Nathan McAlone found several more howlers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/microsoft-removes-embarrassing-offensive-ai-assisted-travel-articles-2023-8

There was the article recommending that visitors to Montreal try "a hamburger" and went on to explain that a hamburger was a "sandwich comprised of a ground beef patty, a sliced bun of some kind, and toppings such as lettuce, tomato, cheese, etc" and that some of the best hamburgers in Montreal could be had at McDonald's.

For Anchorage, Microsoft recommended trying the local delicacy known as "seafood," which it defined as "basically any form of sea life regarded as food by humans, prominently including fish and shellfish," going on to say, "seafood is a versatile ingredient, so it makes sense that we eat it worldwide."

In Tokyo, visitors seeking "photo-worthy spots" were advised to "eat Wagyu beef."

There were more.

Microsoft insisted that this wasn't an issue of "unsupervised AI," but rather "human error." On its face, this presents a head-scratcher: is Microsoft saying that a human being erroneously decided to recommend the dining at Ottawa's food bank?

But a close parsing of the mealy-mouthed disclaimer reveals the truth. The unnamed Microsoft spokesdroid only appears to be claiming that this wasn't written by an AI, but they're actually just saying that the AI that wrote it wasn't "unsupervised." It was a supervised AI, overseen by a human. Who made an error. Thus: the problem was human error.

This deliberate misdirection actually reveals a deep truth about AI: that the story of AI being managed by a "human in the loop" is a fantasy, because humans are neurologically incapable of maintaining vigilance in watching for rare occurrences.

Our brains wire together neurons that we recruit when we practice a task. When we don't practice a task, the parts of our brain that we optimized for it get reused. Our brains are finite and so don't have the luxury of reserving precious cells for things we don't do.

That's why the TSA sucks so hard at its job – why they are the world's most skilled water-bottle-detecting X-ray readers, but consistently fail to spot the bombs and guns that red teams successfully smuggle past their checkpoints:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/investigation-breaches-us-airports-allowed-weapons-through-n367851

TSA agents (not "officers," please – they're bureaucrats, not cops) spend all day spotting water bottles that we forget in our carry-ons, but almost no one tries to smuggle a weapons through a checkpoint – 99.999999% of the guns and knives they do seize are the result of flier forgetfulness, not a planned hijacking.

In other words, they train all day to spot water bottles, and the only training they get in spotting knives, guns and bombs is in exercises, or the odd time someone forgets about the hand-cannon they shlep around in their day-pack. Of course they're excellent at spotting water bottles and shit at spotting weapons.

This is an inescapable, biological aspect of human cognition: we can't maintain vigilance for rare outcomes. This has long been understood in automation circles, where it is called "automation blindness" or "automation inattention":

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/29939767/

Here's the thing: if nearly all of the time the machine does the right thing, the human "supervisor" who oversees it becomes incapable of spotting its error. The job of "review every machine decision and press the green button if it's correct" inevitably becomes "just press the green button," assuming that the machine is usually right.

This is a huge problem. It's why people just click "OK" when they get a bad certificate error in their browsers. 99.99% of the time, the error was caused by someone forgetting to replace an expired certificate, but the problem is, the other 0.01% of the time, it's because criminals are waiting for you to click "OK" so they can steal all your money:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/ema-report-finds-nearly-80-130300983.html

Automation blindness can't be automated away. From interpreting radiographic scans:

https://healthitanalytics.com/news/ai-could-safely-automate-some-x-ray-interpretation

to autonomous vehicles:

https://newsroom.unsw.edu.au/news/science-tech/automated-vehicles-may-encourage-new-breed-distracted-drivers

The "human in the loop" is a figleaf. The whole point of automation is to create a system that operates at superhuman scale – you don't buy an LLM to write one Microsoft Travel article, you get it to write a million of them, to flood the zone, top the search engines, and dominate the space.

As I wrote earlier: "There's no market for a machine-learning autopilot, or content moderation algorithm, or loan officer, if all it does is cough up a recommendation for a human to evaluate. Either that system will work so poorly that it gets thrown away, or it works so well that the inattentive human just button-mashes 'OK' every time a dialog box appears":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/21/let-me-summarize/#i-read-the-abstract

Microsoft – like every corporation – is insatiably horny for firing workers. It has spent the past three years cutting its writing staff to the bone, with the express intention of having AI fill its pages, with humans relegated to skimming the output of the plausible sentence-generators and clicking "OK":

https://www.businessinsider.com/microsoft-news-cuts-dozens-of-staffers-in-shift-to-ai-2020-5

We know about the howlers and the clunkers that Microsoft published, but what about all the other travel articles that don't contain any (obvious) mistakes? These were very likely written by a stochastic parrot, and they comprised training data for a human intelligence, the poor schmucks who are supposed to remain vigilant for the "hallucinations" (that is, the habitual, confidently told lies that are the hallmark of AI) in the torrent of "content" that scrolled past their screens:

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

Like the TSA agents who are fed a steady stream of training data to hone their water-bottle-detection skills, Microsoft's humans in the loop are being asked to pluck atoms of difference out of a raging river of otherwise characterless slurry. They are expected to remain vigilant for something that almost never happens – all while they are racing the clock, charged with preventing a slurry backlog at all costs.

Automation blindness is inescapable – and it's the inconvenient truth that AI boosters conspicuously fail to mention when they are discussing how they will justify the trillion-dollar valuations they ascribe to super-advanced autocomplete systems. Instead, they wave around "humans in the loop," using low-waged workers as props in a Big Store con, just a way to (temporarily) cool the marks.

And what of the people who lose their (vital) jobs to (terminally unsuitable) AI in the course of this long-running, high-stakes infomercial?

Well, there's always the food bank.

"Go on an empty stomach."

Going to Burning Man? Catch me on Tuesday at 2:40pm on the Center Camp Stage for a talk about enshittification and how to reverse it; on Wednesday at noon, I'm hosting Dr Patrick Ball at Liminal Labs (6:15/F) for a talk on using statistics to prove high-level culpability in the recruitment of child soldiers.

On September 6 at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

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/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

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