#my other coworker was like 'well ai lets me know the best way to phrase it so other people get what i'm saying'
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coworkers: what about using ai to do xyz?
me, stepping onto my soapbox: let me tell you All The Reasons i wont do it and also why you shouldnt do it either
#idk what's up w/my boss but she keeps asking about using ai for stuff#and im like. no. i will write my own meeting minutes. i will write my own emails.#im sorry but like. doing that is building your professional muscle and when you shortcut it w/ai i'm like ??? what are we even doing here#also like. considering i'd have to double check everything anyway to make sure it was done accurately tbh it's just as much work lol#every time someone was like 'well what if we use chatgpt to do--'#i was going 'NO!!!!'#my youngest coworker was like 'sometimes i use it to write emails at the end of the day when my brain is tired :('#and i was like. okay. then just write the email the next day.#especially since she's in this job for experience im like YOU ESPECIALLY should be writing your own stuff#like stop letting ai take away your professional muscle. stop using shortcuts to do very easy things for no reason.#stop using an environmentally unsafe tool to write. a fucking. email.#im sorry that one gets me emails are so easy. theyre so easy. if you cant brain good the email can always wait until tomorrow.#my other coworker was like 'well ai lets me know the best way to phrase it so other people get what i'm saying'#and i was like ???? just because it's ai doesnt mean it's infalliable or all knowing!!!! it can make mistakes and misword stuff!!!!!#it can ALSO making confusing emails!!!!!#[long scream]#anyway i've made my position REALLY clear about this and i'm getting more and more annoyed that we keep talking about it
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Welcome Home Agere Fic - Baby’s Instinct Ch. 2
Characters: Little!Wally Darling, CG! Poppy Partridge, CG!Missy McBee (OC), CG! Eddie Dear, CG! Barnaby B. Beagle
Chapters: 2-4(?)
Setting: Poppy’s Barn (living room, kitchen), Missy’s Hive (restaurant, upstairs apartment), Eddie’s Post Office (front desk, upstairs apartment), Barnaby’s Dog House (living room, bathroom, guest bedroom)
Premise: Just the various little things that Wally calls his caregivers.
Author’s Note: First fic with an oc!! Figured I would practice writing my own characters and this is a good way to practice! Hope you guys like Missy :>>
Also she does speak Spanish momentarily in this fic, I used an AI to help translate so do let me know if it is accurate cjvjvj
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Chapter 2: MISSY
McBee’s was a fairly new restaurant that had opened nearby Welcome Home, but it had quickly become a town landmark for being a nice change of pace for the townsfolk. The owner - Missy McBee - and a whole heaping amount of coworkers had moved from the lovely South in order to further pursue her dream of cooking for others, and with the opening of her restaurant it wad pushed further.
With that, she also connected well with the townsfolk; gossiping and laughing with Julie and Poppy, sharing her woes in with with Eddie and Howdy, and - most importantly - meeting the ever so mysterious Wally Darling.
Wally was a case of being so friendly yet ever so secretive. Those eyes had something to hide, yet she wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was how he spoke, how robotic his laughter was, or maybe the way he was almost never alone, usually accompanying a friend of his by hand or by ride.
Missy was curious, but didn’t want to push. Running her business was more important than focusing on one single resident of the town, so there wasn’t much of a point to focus on him.
However, it soon made itself apparent that she should’ve been attentive.
It was a regular day at work, half of her worker bees taking orders left and right, and the other half cooking the orders given. The smell of fresh food filled the air, motivating Missy to work even more as she buzzed around the restaurant, looking for a customer.
The first customer that had caught her eye was none other than the aforementioned Wally Darling, sitting tensely at his spot on one of the checkered tables fiddling with his red ascot. Missy straightened her back and cleared her throat, before quickly making her way towards the bluenette.
“Well good morning, dear! Welcome to McBee’s, where every meal is buzzing with flavor for the whole family! My name is Missy, and I will be your waitress for today. What can I get started for you, hun?” A phrase she had no problem memorizing for every customer, she waited patiently for the bluenette to answer. It took… a concerning amount of time for him to answer.
She figured he didn’t hear her.
*snap snap*
“You awake, hun?”
She saw how he flinched harshly at the sound of her fingers snapping together, his closed fists clenching tighter. She began to notice little details about his demeanor, most of them concerning her.
His shoulders were hunched and curled around his chest, his hands clasped together tightly, and his head hovering over the table. He was shaking as well, and that tell-tale grin was wavering ever so slightly. Even then, he seemed to keep his posture to the best of his ability, presenting himself as stable.
This concerned Missy greatly. She needed to do something.
“Hun… do you need a minute? Is everything alright?”, she questioned him. Wally jerked a bit from his seat, his startled gaze meeting hers. He stared for a moment, before swallowing hard and muttering a small ‘no.’ Missy frowned at that shaking her head.
“Cariño, you look about as nervous as a fly in a glue factory, are you sure you don’t need a minute?” Missy rested her lower hands on her hips, bending forward to the smaller one’s level. The aforementioned puppet wrapped his arms around his body slowly, squeezing tightly. He exhaled, his breath wavering.
Missy furrowed her brow, thinking hard, before snapping her fingers as an idea struck. She turned behind herself towards the nearest waiter bee, quickly speeding towards him.
“¡Oye, puedes encargarte de la cocina por un rato? Tengo un cliente que necesita ayuda y parece tenso, necesito que alguien seencargue,” she quickly said to him. The waiter bee nodded, before zooming towards the kitchen. Missy then hurried back to where the bluenette had been sitting, then crouched to his level.
“Hey, amiguito,” she started, “do you want to go out back to take a breather? You look like a balloon just ‘bout to deflate, hm?”
Wally stared up at her, still slightly shaking, then nodding hesitantly. They took each other’s hands before walking out of the swinging front doors, the cool outside air hitting them as the doors closed behind them. Almost as soon as they knew they were outside, Wally’s breathing hitched as tears streamed down their face. They fell onto their bottom and curled up into a ball, crying uncontrollably and startling Missy greatly.
“Ah- Wally?!,” she exclaimed, “are you alright? Oh dear-“ Missy quickly fell to her knees and propped herself in front of the sobbing man. He continued to cry, his head in his knees and his hands clamped around his ears and head. Missy then noticed that she could make something out of his inelegant blubbering.
“It- it woud…” he cried, “it too woud in der’, it huwt-“ It was all she could manage to hear before he went back to sobbing into himself. His words were slurred and were that of a young child’s. She wasn’t sure why exactly, but clearly he was in a very vulnerable state.
“It’s too loud in there, honey?” she questioned him gently. Wally scrubbed his face with his sleeve, sniffling and nodding. Missy ‘aww’ed at that, shaking her head.
“I know you must be very upset, mi chiquitín,” she said, her voice low and soft, “but would you like a hug? Hugs usually make me feel better.” The bee held out her upper and lower arms wide around herself, offering the chance for him to take. Thankfully, Wally nodded slowly, before scooting towards and resting himself against her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his tiny body, enveloping him in a loving and comforting embrace as he continued to cry into her chest. She spent the moment rubbing his hair and back slowly, gently shushing him and whispering “it’s okay” and “it’ll be alright” and “I’m here”.
Wally’s crying died down a little bit not too long after, only the occasional hiccup and whimper. Missy took this to tilt his head towards her, his gaze fitting hers.
“There… all better, now?” she asked him, the baby bluenette nodding tiredly. The waitress slowly unraveled her arms from his body, though hesitantly, and sat back. The tiny painter rubbed his eyes and sniffled, his breathing wavering but stable.
“I sowwy…” Wally whimpered, wiping his arms over his eyes. One hand was close to his mouth, the thumb tracing his lips.
“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” she reassured, rubbing his shoulder, “I promise you.” She took notice of how close his thumb was to his mouth, but ignored it.
The two fell into a momentary silence, filled only with Wally’s sniffling and Missy’s comforting words. They let themselves fall into each other’s presence, feeling a sense of trust between the two. The quiet and chilly air juxtaposed from the busy, loud interior of the hive was a calming feeling, not as overwhelming as it was before. It felt much nicer, much better.
Missy soon broke the silence between the two after a short while.
“You want to go back inside now, hun?” She asked gently, referring to his spot inside the restaurant. Wally jumped at that and furiously shook his head no. Missy frowned at that, before she smiled once more at a new idea. She looked to her right and… yep, outside tables. Perfect.
“Would you like to eat outside instead?”, she suggested, “I have some tables out here if you would like to sit here.” The little bluenette looked over to her side, staring at the tables for a bit. She could tell he was thinking about it. He soon looked back at her and nodded slowly.
Missy smiled back. She slowly stood from her spot in front of him, holding out a hand to pull him up. Once the two were standing once more, she led the bluenette to one of the small hexagon tables near them, before sitting him down at one of the bench chairs surrounding it.
“Now, I’m gonna go back inside and get you a menu, okay? While I’m gone, stay right here. I’ll be back, okay amiguito?” The waitress kept her voice soft and gentle. Wally tussled at his ascot timidly, before nodding.
“Otay, mom- mm, ma’am,” he responded. Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback for a second.
Did he just call her… no, he couldn’t. There’s no way. She isn’t mom material.
Well, no time to worry about it. She had to feed this kid. She cleared her throat, straightening her back and brushing off her apron.
“Alrighty. Stay really still while I get your menu, hun,” she said with a buzz in her step. She turned back to the front doors of the hive and quickly made her way inside, that response still buzzing in her mind. It felt.. fitting, almost.
Well, if that was the case, as well have Mom feed her baby.
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#GRAAAAAAAAA IT’S FINALLY DONE#this took so long augh#but heyyyyyy missy!!!#i hope you like how i wrote her teehee#Also do critique me on the Spanish lol#if needed ofc#welcome home#welcome home arg#welcome home puppet show#welcome home agere#sfw agere#age regressor#sfw age regression#welcome home wally#wally darling#welcome home poppy#poppy partridge#welcome home oc#missy mcbee#welcome home eddie#eddie dear#welcome home barnaby#barnaby b beagle#gummunity fics
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How a Family is Built
Chapter 1: It Starts with a Couple of Good Friends
Connor took some time on his own after the revolution. It had seemed like the most fitting thing to do. Very few androids trusted him, though he couldn’t blame them, so he didn’t believe he would be that welcome at Jericho. The hug he and Hank had shared had been nice but there was a defined line between coworkers and housemates that Connor didn’t feel that he would be permitted to cross. Not to mention being temporarily unemployed meant that he wouldn’t be able to contribute to the household which would have been unfair to Hank. He was CyberLife’s crowing achievement, he could figure something out. As it turned out, there weren’t too many places that were willing to hire you when the only thing you had done was hunt your own kind, and failed at that too. Sure, he was one of the faces of the Revolution, but that seemed to hurt more than it helped him. Some places seemed to believe that he was applying for jobs to make a point instead of the fact that he actually needed one and turned him away. He considered a dog walking service but only briefly because as much as he liked dogs they didn’t always seem to like him. He assumed it was because he didn’t smell like anything organic and that meant danger in most cases.
So he wandered instead and picked up odd jobs when and wherever he could. He was intentionally vague about his whereabouts and what he was doing whenever Markus or Hank reached out to him. He was aware he was probably causing them more worry than relief, but he wasn’t ready to admit that his venture into the real world had been a failure. That despite all that he had been built to be he had failed. He wasn’t sure how much of that fear was his own and how much of it was from what failure had meant for him before the Revolution. He was still trying to parse Connor from RK800. He was aware that there was only so much separation that could be done, but he still wanted to know the difference between his deviancy and his base code. Hank and Markus would both say that it wasn’t important, but they also hadn’t had an angry AI rip everything out from under them. She had been quiet since CyberLife had been returned to Elijah, but he wanted to know what his natural state of being was just in case she ever returned. He wanted to know what normal was in the event he would have to fight his way back again. Hank would have called him paranoid, but he felt he had a right to be after everything that had happened to him. Reality was a luxury in his situation and he wanted to keep his grip on it as best he could. If that meant wandering aimlessly through Detroit then that was what he would do.
The thing about friends is that when they only hear from you on occasion and don’t see you for nearly a year apparently they get worried. Connor couldn’t explain what had happened to him between when he saw Markus at a cafe and when he woke up in Hank’s living room. Before this crash he hadn’t gone into proper stasis in months. He got a few minutes here or there, but never enough to sort out the ever growing pile of errors in his code. “He finally back with us?” Came Hank’s voice from somewhere in the house. “Yeah. He’s back online, he just needs a few moments to recalibrate.” That was Markus’s voice, and from far closer than Connor would have liked. He was only made aware of the interface that had kept Markus so close to him because of the notification he received when it was terminated. He let his systems finish calibrating before he opened his eyes. He felt notably less sluggish now and the dread of the feeling that he had been slipping away from himself was nearly gone. He sat up carefully and took in his surroundings. He was in Hank’s house and it was much more clean that it had been on his last visit. “Welcome back to the land of the living Kid.” Hank remarked as he walked into the living room with a bottle of thirium in one hand and a light beer in the other. Some habits refused to die he supposed.
“Thank you.” He said as he took the offered thirium bottle, “Sorry for taking up your couch.” Hank rolled his eyes as he sat in the open space on the couch, “You can make it up to me by being honest about where you’ve been the past few months and why you haven’t been sleeping.” “Androids don’t-” Connor started. “It’s a turn of phrase Connor.” Hank cut him off, “Now out with it.” “Take your time.” Markus said in a way that would have been reassuring if Connor hadn’t been so on edge, “I’m here if you would rather interface.” He watched Markus pack up the laptop and various tablets he had likely been using to monitor him while he had been in stasis. Did he dare tell them the truth and admit to being a failure? It didn’t come with the same consequences as before but something about it still didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to face their disappointment. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Hank putting a hand on his knee. “Nothing short of having gone back to tracking down Deviants is going to upset us Con, I promise.” Hank said and gave his leg a reassuring squeeze, “But you haven’t slept in close to six months and between that and never hearing from you, we’re worried. We just want to make sure you’re alright.”
“You’ve been checking for your Amanda program again.” Markus pressed, his tone was less frantic than Hank’s but the worry was still there, “We made sure that she was gone. Your Mind Palace is your own now.” “Is that what’s bothering you Connor?” Hank asked. “Part of it.” He admitted as he blinked away the stress warning that popped up on his HUD, “I want to be sure what I’m feeling is mine and not just my code. That it won’t be taken away again as soon as I make a mistake.” He hadn’t meant to let all of that out, but once he had started he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out short of shutting off his vocal processor. Hank looked surprised and Markus looked worried. “Connor, we wouldn’t let something like that happen to you.” Markus said as he reached out for Connor. His synthskin hadn’t fallen away but Connor knew he was offering to interface, to be a median if that would be easier. “You trust us don’t you?” “Of course I do.” He agreed, “Its myself and my systems that I don’t trust. How do I know that I’m actually Deviant? How can we be sure this isn’t just another last ditch effort by CyberLife to undo everything? How do I know that any of this is real?” “Alright, fuck this.” Hank sighed as he stood, “Time to get the dog. He’ll know if its you or not. You’re his goddamn favorite after all.”
Connor found himself looking around the room as he finally noticed the absence of a certain four legged beast. He set the empty thirium bottle on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. That was all the time he had to brace himself. He heard an excited boof and the scramble of paws on the hardwood floor. “Go find him, go find Connor.” Hank encouraged. Connor found himself buried under an excited Saint Bernard only a few moments later. He felt himself smile genuinely for the first time in months. He buried his face and hands in the dog’s fur and felt a rush of relief. Sumo had recognized him, which meant at the very least that today was real. Had he been able to he would have cried. “The big lug missed you just like the rest of us.” Hank said from behind him, “I had to pull him away from the door the first couple of weeks you were gone. He thought that every little sound on the other side was you.” “I’m sorry.” He said from his place buried in Sumo’s side. “Just keep in touch this time Kid.” He said as he laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Or tell us where you’ve been staying so we can come and visit you instead.” Connor hesitated for a long moment caught between lying; which would lower Hank’s concern; or telling the truth and making him upset. He settled for the truth, “I haven’t really been staying anywhere in particular.”
He was met with a long stretch of silence before Markus decided to speak up, “Do you mean that you have been homeless or something else?” The concern in his voice made Connor flinch. “I don’t have a place to stay.” He confessed, “If I was working I would stay there if I was able to.” He heard Hank sigh from behind him, “Connor you could have come back here if you needed to.” “I didn’t want to disappoint you because I couldn’t do this on my own.” Connor said. He sat up but continued to pet Sumo who had finally calmed down, “I’m designed to be able to adapt and I couldn’t even get a job.” “Stop that Connor.” Hank said firmly, “I wouldn’t have been disappointed. I know it seems like it, but I’m not mad, I’m just worried.” He walked around to the front of the couch so he could look Connor in the eye, “Finding a job is hard, it always has been, but the odds are stacked against you because of what you’re known for. I know its not what you want to do, but I can talk to Jeff about you coming back to the station.” “There is always a place for you at Jericho as well if you would rather that.” Markus took a moment when he noticed Connor’s hesitation, “You can stay with me if that works better. We could always use a liaison with the police, I know it isn’t ideal, but we can give you that much until you can find something else that interests you.”
“There aren’t many androids that are willing to trust me. Are you sure it would be okay?” Connor pressed, “Police work feels too close too what I used to be.” “You don’t have to decide today.” Markus replied, “You can stay wherever you are the most comfortable until you decide on something.” “I don’t want to be a burden.” Connor deflected. “Connor, we’re your friends. We wouldn’t be offering if we didn’t want you here.” Hank argued, “That aside, I really don’t think Sumo is going to be all that keen on letting you out of his sight now that you’re back.” Connor looked down at the content Saint Bernard that had made himself at home in Connor’s lap and the space that was left on the couch. He supposed it wouldn’t be fair to any of them if he vanished again so soon after coming back. “And if you wind up deciding you would rather go soul searching again we won’t stop you.” Hank continued, “All I ask is that you keep in touch this time around.” Markus nodded his agreement, “Take a few days to rest. Think about what you want, and when you’re ready you can tell us what you decided on. We’ll wait as long as it takes.” “We just want you to be happy Con.” Hank said, “That’s where it starts.” “I’ll think about it.” He said eventually, “I missed you too, I think. Being back is nice at the very least.”
Hank and Markus smiled. “That’s all we could ask.” Markus said, “I’ve got to get back, but I’m only a ping or a call away.” “Thank you.” Connor said as Markus grabbed his things and stood. Hank ordered Sumo off of the couch and sat down beside Connor. “He worried more than he let on, we both did. We’re glad you’re okay.” Hank let out a sigh, “And I know its beating a dead horse at this point, but we care about you. If you ever feel like that again, please reach out. We can’t help you if we don’t know.” Connor nodded, “I will try and be better.” Hank smiled, “Good. Now let’s watch some shitty tv until you feel better.”
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