#the fake ai is taking over my brain

[stellarzidal]

if edgar was real, i would've kissed him many, many times on his screen <333

LMAO i fear that this movie is computer lover propaganda and i absolutely fell for it. not in an objectum way (... i think.) but i srsly fuck with all of the art on this platform about this lil guy 🫶 i lob him and everyone else should too. he is too good for us

[show-your-fangs]

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind. 

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him. 

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall. 

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.   

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl. 

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had. 

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months. 

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site. 

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before. 

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself. 

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle. 

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes. 

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations. 

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable. 

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office. 

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free. 

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit. 

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree. 

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book. 

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show. 

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself. 

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events. 

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye. 

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.  

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock. 

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions. 

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires. 

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going. 

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot. 

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock. 

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him. 

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body. 

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body. 

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly. 

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you. 

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her. 

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail. 

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know. 

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him. 

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds. 

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched. 

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered. 

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried. 

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on. 

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep. 

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in. 

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it. 

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief. 

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants. 

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter. 

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself. 

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement. 

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further. 

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully. 

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room. 

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd. 

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long. 

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you. 

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

[cosy-crafty-corner]

Been watching a YouTube video on how to spot AI-generated images on Etsy listings of embroidery patterns and I now really want to try and make a fake-looking image in reality.

There are a number of examples shown of basically "real embroidery doesn't work this way" and my brain immediately jumped to taking it as a challenge.

Like, she showed a design with what looked vaguely like satin stitch except the threads curve, which doesn't happen in satin stitch. But could you maybe wrap a very thin thread round and round a piece of thin wire so that it looks like a normal thread, but then you can use the wire to make it curve?

There was one that looked almost 3D in the photo and maybe you could do something with stitching on a piece of fabric with wire outline, stumpwork style, so that you could layer that over the top and create that effect.

Another one had colours changing on the thread mid-stitch, and there are multi-coloured threads out there, so careful placement of the multi-colour thread in the section so that the colour change lines up could achieve that effect.

Basically, I want to see if it is possible to achieve in actual real life embroidery something that looks like a fake AI piece.

[wndaswife]

hm what’s you’re opinion (if you have one) on what you said happened at the end of your *spoiler* post? hopefully you know what i’m referring to lol like the thing

SPOILERS for the assessment under the read more (below i will talk about freud's child parent theories and gender theory related to that between mother and daughter identification)

to be clear about the specific event im talking about it's not so much a spoiler like it doesn't tell you major plot points but talking about over arching themes may take the fun out of understanding the movie yourself

a major part of the movie is the couple grappling with what is real and what is fake (i guess), since the whole thing is how people made a new technological world to make up for an earth destroyed by climate change

but also there is one thing about the dynamic between the assessor and her 'parents' that was kind of random and i feel didn't really fit with the rest of the movie, which is the whole fruedian parent child relationship and maybe it's just my own brain because im really interested in him and his theories and also gender theory, but the whole time they were together i thought a lot about the daughter's relationship with her mother and father

to me i saw the assessor's relationship to her father as the typical freudian one, but with the mother i see a mother-daughter identification i see the daughter rejecting her identity as a female and thereby detests the mother (idk if this is freudian but i think it's possible in a society where gender roles and expectations can be viewed. but the issue with the whole parent role for me was that how can these gender roles be observed and acted upon if they live completely isolated from others in a day to day basis??? gender roles such as the child adopting freudian preference shouldn't have been possible, so the assessor i suppose had to implement her own gender biases which just seems unnecessary, but this movie isn't about that specifically so i suppose it's fine but still kinda meh for the whole parent child dynamic to be so freudian.. his theories r the most popular regarding that i guess)

and the mother seeing herself or an innocent version of ambition or vulnerability and purity in the child, and in mia's case this did not result in mutual hatred but empathy and also identification, since i think mia saw something natural and real about the way the assessor would behave like a child, going against typical norms, but also in the assessor herself as an adult and as a person

but also mia contrasts the whole of society and the fake world because she's really into things that are natural and real; she wants a real child and her whole profession is dedicated to botany and growing real, natural earth. i think she felt attraction to the assessor's vulnerability and 'realness,' and i suppose this is emphasized even more at the end-ish when she discusses this more (i won't say in what setting this happens because it's a big turning point for the movie)

so in kissing the assessor i think it was a very dangerous pull to something real and natural, away from her life from her husband (and it's no coincidence that his profession is that he's some kind of AI engineer or something that can make very realistic fake models of things). so she pulled away and felt guilty, but her kissing the assessor was symbolic of mia's natural pull to real things that go against a fabricated world, but also the point that the closer she becomes to this fake child and sees the difficulty of the things during the assessment, the further she pulls from fabricated reality

for fun i even see some wlw themes in this but so subtle and underlying

[satureja13]

The Boys rode through the pouring rain across the Bridge over to Koh Sahpa. And the horses stopped by a stilt house. Jack: "Are we going to stay here? Woah! When I showed Ji Ho the beach after he arrived we saw a stilt house and we talked about how awesome they are and we asked Arturo if we can buy a lot here to build one..." Vlad: "Arturo told us. Kiyoshi, Jeb and I built it to make it up to you. It's not finished yet. You were only supposed to see it later. " (So that was their secret project!) So Kiyoshi built this house. For Jack. (Even Lunatic is stunned ^w^)

So Jeb built this house. For Saiwa. Sai had put all his hopes in that circuit board because he has no idea how he is supposed to look Jeb in the eyes again after they 'agreed' that Sai should give in to a fake relationship with Kiyoshi to bring him back from the tree. Because they thought Kiyoshi is Saiwa's fated mate. But he wasn't. Saiwa stared into nowhere... Before Sai could follow these thoughts further he got distracted by the noise of the singing birds. Why are they so loud? Bird... (They really are so loud here ö.Ö') He has no idea how to go on.

Vlad: "Look after them and try to finish the rest." (Yeah I know. Who would trust crazy Jack with looking after anyone? Usually he is the one they need to look after and care for. But Vlad trusts him. Because he knows the Jack behind his disorders and antics (and the ones who know adult Jack from our other stories know it too :3) And he knows that he can rely on him when it comes to it.) Jack: "You're leaving? What about the Bond?" Vlad: "Jeb and Kiyoshi need me. They are broken too. I will feel it when it's due to charge the Bond."

Jack: "When you feel it Ji Ho already suffers. He has the deeper connection to the Bond. Don't let him beg for it. The intervals are always the same when you don't use it's magic. Just come here in time and do it." Vlad: "Uhm. Ok." Vlad and his foolish pride and reluctance. Luci had been bolder... And Ji Ho often said that he doesn't mind physical intimacy with Vlad.

Then it was time for Vlad to leave - to look after Jeb and Kiyoshi... He is hesitating.

And Jack took Saiwa inside to give them time to get their stuff together. Oh my, after all they already did with each other they still behave like this...

Vlad: "The Bond. I will be back before..." Ji Ho: "Ok."

They held on to each other a bit longer than usual. Maybe the Bond hates it to see them apart or maybe they will miss each other. Who knows?

Vlad left and Ji Ho went inside. Ji Ho: "Oh. He's already sleeping. I hope he changes his mind about Tiny Can. I could really need some help from a therapist. Even if it's only an AI." Jack: "An AI is even better! He knows everything and is always up to date with the latest research and discoveries! He must have scanned countless articles, diagnoses, therapy approaches, research papers... I'm so ready to try it and get stuff fixed in my furry brain."

They sighed and turned around to take in the view. And just across the river there was the stilt house they had admired a few weeks ago. Just the one Kiyoshi, Vlad and Jeb built is so much more beautiful. Because they built it with love 💞

'There's a message in the wild And I'm sending you this signal tonight You don't know how desperate I've become And it looks like I'm losing this fight

In your world I have no meaning Though I'm trying hard to understand And it's my heart that's breaking Down this long distance line tonight

But I ain't missing you at all Since you've been gone away I ain't missing you No matter what I might say'

Missing You - John Waite Link above leads to the MV on youtube

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[bellygunnr]

Cavalry Call

Commission piece for @poisonheadcrabsalesman of my Spartan and AI Roland driving a tank!

Gunny squints through the War Games UI. He's not in armor, so there's no HUD, necessarily, but his neural implant jumps to connect with the simulation pod and forces various shapes and lines to scrawl over his naked eyes. It makes his brain pulse in a deeply uncomfortable way. He jabs aimlessly at the air, snarling when he puts in the wrong option, tosses his head back when his implant abruptly goes icy and his world tinges yellow.

Bit small in here, isn't it? A familiar voice says.

Gunny leans on the edge of the pod, world swimming counter-clockwise.

"Roland," he says. "What are you doing up?"

The freezing sensation zips down his spine and melts slowly. His vision flares. Roland is-- showing off, he realizes, rifling through his brain and making the pod easier to work with.

"This is an oddly specific setup for you," Roland replies, ignoring him completely. "Ohhh. You were Army?"

The pod hums to life. Gunny climbs inside, settling into the straps, harness, and chair, and tries not to think about Roland partially riding inside. He didn't ask for a buddy, but maybe he's just doing that badly, to warrant pity from--

Hey, Roland says sharply.

Right.

He relaxes into the restraint. The hum rises in volume until his molars buzz, and then the world melts away. His limbs grow heavy and gravity tries to yank him to the ground.

But he catches his footing and rolls back to a standing position-- right next to an M808B MBT. Scorpion, for short. Gunny runs his hands over the angled hull of a tread pod, nodding to himself. It'd be a tight fit inside with his helmet.

I've never driven one of these before, Roland comments. Mind if I tag along?

"Do I have a choice?" Gunny grunts, swinging himself up and over the rear pod and on top of the cockpit.

He kicks open the hatch with one practiced strike with his boot, but hesitates on diving inside. Instead, he crouches under the long barrel, taking stock of his surroundings. That was the problem with War Games--

It could simulate enemies, but not friendlies. His ghosts didn't care what he was doing here. 

"You always have a choice," Roland says, seeping into his armor speakers. "You haven't said no yet, either."

"You didn't ask," Gunny snaps. "You seriously haven't ridden a tank?"

His HUD shivers yellow at the edges. He wishes he knew what Roland is doing, knows he can ask, but doesn't. The horizon some two kliks south lights up in neon and ionizes the air. Shakes the ground. 

Don't sound so surprised, Roland says, deep in his mind, I'm usually busy flying a starship!

He sucks in a deep breath and swings down into the cockpit of the tank. The tip of his helmet's horn grazes the ceiling before the single seat bolted to the floor grabs him and holds him close. His neck twinges as Roland jumps around, stretching himself out to fill the space of a brain and fake reality, while his neural implant does the same to sink deep into the tank.

Yeah, okay. He hasn't been in a Scorpion in a long time. It's kind of comforting, if you consider lying prone in a giant metal coffin a comfort.

Still, it takes a second for the controls to rise to his finger tips. The tank has to be started manually, but that's muscle memory. Gunny's sure the only reason he's aware of the process at all is due to Roland skimming through his brain, pleased. Then it's letting the exterior sensors and computer guiding systems pour into his brain. 

"Kind of claustrophobic, don't you think?" Roland laughs. 

Under the laughter, there's a current of genuine discomfort. Gunny lets the massive engine roar up through his throat and into his guts, lets Roland copy the synapses necessary to encourage the tank to move, and hauls off toward the flashing forest with dirt and stone dragging across his- their- backside. 

The Scorpion has its name for a few reasons, really. The most obvious is its silhouette. That low, wide hull that hugs the ground, yet snaps up into a long-snouted cannon turret. Just like its namesake, it has a long reach and a nasty bite.

And it's agile as hell.

Gunny coaxes the big thing off the plateau and down a pile of previously-blasted rock. Data rushes in at an increased rate and he braces for the skull-splitting division of attention that comes with it, but between Roland and the Spartan implant, coordinating the four track pods down the slope feels more like breathing than it should. The engine whines in discomfort as its buffeted by the slide.

He floors it into the copse of trees.

Roland is a heavy presence the entire time, all curiosity and quiet disapproval, apparently aware of how familiar Gunny is with the scenario and able to suss out what that means, exactly. It's the quietude that's unnerving-- moreso than the Covenant Armoured lurking just beyond the border of the woods. 

"Did Crimson send you after me?" Gunny demands.

He's not sure if he speaks aloud or thinks really hard or what. There's like, two Spartans total on Crimson that'd hunt after him, and that's Sadie and Rhodes. And Rhodes and Roland--

Gunny's head twitches as he gets a targeting lock on a Wraith turning away from his position. That is according to plan. Yet...

He cuts the speed incrementally. Breathes in.

Can't a guy hang out with his favorite Fireteam?

His vision blurs slightly. The barrel drops. Brakes grind. The entire assembly jerks as he hammers in the firing solution and lets loose on the errant Wraith. The 102mm round drills through the shields and sinks deep into the power core of the beast. 

Roland makes a little squeaking sound as he, presumably, detects every alien start trying to get a lock on their position. Gunny slams into reverse just as the Wraith gives up and explodes. 

And explodes again-- ammunition reserve, then. Nice.

You really don't like tanks, huh? Gunny projects. Watch this.

"Target lock," the tank says.

Oh. Well.

The Scorpion lurches as he abruptly tries to pivot left and swings into a tree, knocking it over with a crack. Overhead, a flaming ball of plasma rains down onto their position. 

"Oops," Gunny says blandly.

Roland jumps from the tank to his brain in a panic.

The exterior of the Scorpion burns. Gunny just hastily resets the simulation with a groan.

----

Like what you see? Commission me or drop me a ko-fi.

[laurie-stark]

Chapter VI: Cold Coffee

A/N: crazy sorry for such a long time between updates my friends. the end-of-term brain fog has finally settled in and i care so little for school that i was able to write a bit in my lectures lol. also i must give credit to chat gpt for writing the accords at the bottom. yes i used AI to write up a fake legal document, i aint coming up with all that jargon. gotta use the tools available to you kids. until next time, take care -mimi

TW: There are subtle mentions of accidental self-harm at the end of this chapter, as well as some mention of blood.

Word Count: 2.9K

Series Masterlist

I should have known that sneaking into the meeting room would be harder than just opening the door. I stalked my team over the security camera footage on my smartwatch, following them as they trudged out of the room and down the halls. I struggled to keep up with every turn of a corner. Dumb tiny controls. Eventually they settled in the living room. It was perfect. They probably left the meeting room door unlocked and everything! All I had to do was sneak down the hall and-

Shit. 

The living room was directly down the hall. They were directly down the hall. There was no way that I could stroll past them, not without anyone knowing what I was on the hunt for. And in the back of my mind I knew that the security cameras were only easy to crack into because my father wanted me to see that footage. He wanted to remind me that I’d only ever watch from behind a wall. 

I tip-toed closer to the living room. Their voices got clearer as I snuck a peak around the corner. Breathing heavily, I scanned for a way to waltz past the group. My eyes darted to the air duct by the ceiling. I could climb through those? I thought. No, there was no way I could even attempt to be as quiet as Clint was when he hung out up there. 

My heart jolted out of my chest when Rhodey turned his head in my direction. I whipped back around the corner, hand over my mouth for good measure. This is why they never sent me in to gather intel anywhere. I was way too jumpy. 

I scampered back down the hall to my room. Pacing along the floor, I wracked my brain for another way I could get to the meeting room. Surely there was a way around the living room. I had never seen the blueprints for the compound, but my dad had to have installed some sort of emergency exit. 

A wicked grin crossed my face. I crossed my bedroom floor and pried open the door to a small balcony that overlooked the compound grounds. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon. The pond was still enough that I could see wiggly reflections of the treeline in it. I stepped towards the railing, hands pressed against the cool metal bars. I heaved my weight to look down at the ground. I was four stories up, which I guessed equated to around fifty feet off the ground. That’s not that terrible, I thought. I was higher up in Sokivia.

I inhaled deeply and swung my left leg over the railing. With incredible incoordination, I carefully pulled the rest of my body over the railing so that I was teetering on the edge. If I looked, I was sure that I’d see white knuckles gripping the bar for dear life on either side of me. This was a great plan. It was a terribly great terrible plan. 

Launching myself down a flight of stairs was easy. It was one step after the other with minimal exertion of my powers. I did it without thinking all the time, this was no different. Instead of three or four feet over a wide span, I just had to make it fifty straight down. I could do this. I can’t do this. I could totally do this. Laurie, just do it! I probably didn’t have much time before they realize they forgot the document in the living room anyways. Quit stalling! Just close your eyes and-

My stomach flew up into my throat. I clenched my fists and tucked my arms in tight to my sides, keeping my eyes closed. Even though I couldn’t see, I knew that my body was beginning to glow. I could feel it, as though an invisible hand was reaching out through my chest, desperate to grab onto anything. Grasping at air, I began to panic. I had no frame of reference. Nothing to pinpoint my gravitational pull to, not with my eyes closed. And for the life of me I couldn’t get them open. I felt myself slip and plummet towards the hard ground. This was it. This was how I die.

When I opened my eyes I was dumbfounded. I let out a disbelieving gasp as I took in the world from forty feet in the air. I was completely suspended, my body stuck between atoms like an airplane in turbulence. I mustered the courage to move my head to look up and see what I was tethered to. To my absolute shock, there was nothing but open sky above me. How the hell was I flying?

I slowed my breathing and remembered all that I had learned with Wanda. I focused on my palms first. They were buzzing with energy, alive with a force I needed to control. You are in control. Wanda’s voice echoed in my mind. I was in control. I let myself feel the pulsing inside my chest. It beat and thumped like a drum. Like a heartbeat. Looking inward, I realized with a gasp that I had redirected my gravitational pull to…myself. Well how about that?

Lowering myself down to the ground was tricky business. It felt like trying to control the muscles in your face that you don’t normally have manual control over. Eventually, I wobbled down until my feet touched the grass. I collapsed onto my hands and knees, head lowered. I mentally cracked up at the image of me looking like a poser. 

Still in shock that I had uncovered a new layer to my abilities, I dusted my hands off and felt the energy cool down. I had time to unpack all of that later. Right now I was on a mission. Cardio had never been my strong suit, but I managed to jog around the perimeter of the compound easily enough. I hoped that the few straggling SHIELD agents who had nothing better to do but be here on a weekend didn’t notice me gasping for breath as I walked through the large double doors. 

As I predicted, the door to the meeting room was unlocked. The document was still sitting in the middle of the oval table. The room felt heavy, and although I knew better than to believe in spirits, I could have sworn that the document was calling my name. Surely it was a normal legal binder, but it felt like it had it’s own gravity, tugging me closer. 

I picked it up using two hands, running my fingers over the glossy title page. My heart was beating loudly in my ears, drowning out any other sounds in the room. The Sokivia Accords: Framework for the Registration and Deployment of Enhanced Individuals…Deployment? I thought. My mind had jumped to jumbled up the words deployment and deportation. The government didn’t have the power to deport us. Surely not. 

I sat down in one of the empty office chairs and propped the Accords open in front of me. It was thick, nearly the same size as my math textbook. Flipping through the pages, I tried to understand what about this thing got my team into such a tizzy. The more I read, the more confused I got. The legal jargon was far beyond my comprehension skills. There was a reason I used to pass out during the HR meetings Dad dragged me to.  

The table of contents was just as hard to understand as the rest of it, but I ran my finger down the pages regardless. I scanned across ink, looking for any semblance of the English language. The pad of my pointer finger came to a screeching halt. I stared at the page with my mouth agape, mind having gone blank. Staring back up at me was my own name printed in bolded letters. 

They called me “The Subject.” I kicked myself for being surprised, I should have known that this would implicate me. You didn’t even know what this was five minutes ago, I thought. Yeah but you should have.

I forced myself to read through every single word. Regulations…oversight protocols…stipulations…My heart was racing. I started to feel sick to my stomach, even though I still wasn’t clear on what this meant at all. And then it hit me.

Article XII, Section 3A: Failure to comply. In the event that the Subject violates any of the statutes or stipulations outlined within Article I-XII, the following measures shall be immediately enacted.

Immediate detainment. Placement in a specialized containment facility.  Behavioural and ability development assessment. I suddenly felt like eyes were already on me. I started breathing faster, and the heart that was once stuck in my throat had dropped to the pits of my stomach. The curtains were completely drawn back now. If I broke any of the rules laid out in front of me, the government would put me in a lab and study me. 

I was seven when my father went missing for the first time. It was rare for him to take work trips without me, but going into an active war zone was no place for a child, so he left me behind. Pepper had moved into our house almost immediately. She made sure I did my schoolwork, that I kept going to my theatre and art classes. She got me into therapy too. It took three months for Dad to come back, and when he did I felt different. 

In therapy, I learned how to ground myself. The night terrors were pretty persistent back then. I’d wake up screaming with no recollection of my dreams. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, and it felt like I was dying. My therapist taught me how to come back down to earth. She taught me to breathe deeply, to feel the floor beneath my feet. It was around this time that my powers first manifested. The techniques I used to channel the power under my sternum were the same ones my therapist taught me way back when. I stopped throwing things around in my sleep after a while.

The government thought I was dangerous. They called me a threat to civilians, they wanted me locked up. I knew that if these Accords got signed, these people would look for the smallest of excuses to put me away, to put all of us away. Frantically, I flipped to the last page in the document. I was looking for the page where my team would inevitably sign. Angry tears blurred my vision when I landed on the page. 

Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, James Rhodes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Anthony Stark, Vision, and Sam Wilson. 

Of course, they wouldn’t give me a say in this. Of course they would give that fucking cyborg a say in my future instead of me. My nails dug into the centre of my palms, and I felt the distinct pop of skin breaking. For a fleeting moment, I worried about getting blood on the Accords. 

A desk chair to my right went flying over the table, smashing through the window opposite me. Glass exploded and fell in shards to the ground, the lights started to flicker. They wanted a monster? Fine, I’d let them have it. But first I needed to go find my father.

I barreled into the living room holding the Accords above my head like it was a rifle and I was trying to get attention in a mall. The team was scattered around the room, hovering over the brown leather couches or splayed across them. My father was standing in the kitchen by the coffee maker, in front of a hologram projection of something I couldn’t see. It looked like he was preaching to the choir. Clearly, I was interrupting. 

“What the hell is this?” I slammed the Accords down onto the coffee table so hard that cold liquid spilled out of the mug I had left early that same morning. Surprise clouded the faces of those around me. 

“Laurie,” Steve started. He had another copy of the document in his hands, closing it gingerly like he thought sudden movements might set me off.

“No, don’t ‘Laurie’ me. What is this? What is going on?” It was hitting me all at once that it was the same Sunday and I hadn’t even been awake for half a day. It was just a few hours ago that I was curled up on these very couches with Steve. Finding out about Lagos and discovering the Accords in such quick succession, my head was spinning. 

Natasha took a step forward and picked up the Accords I had tossed around. She flipped it sideways, examining the spine, and my jaw twitched when I noticed the splotches of red seeping into the white pages. I shoved my fist into my pocket. 

“What happened to this?” She held the document out towards me, her eyes piercing daggers into mine. 

“Is that coffee?” Rhodey asked, peering over Nat’s shoulder. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” Natasha asked, ignoring Rhodey's breathing down her neck.

“You spilled coffee on that? Come on, that’s a government document!” 

“I’m sure the guy with the goofy glasses has it on hard drive, Rhodey,” I said flatly. 

“It’s clearly blood man,” Sam said. 

“Blood? What do you mean blood?” Dad chimed in, stepping out of the kitchen and putting a hand on my shoulder. I tensed under his touch. 

“Laurel, did you hurt yourself over this?” Natasha’s eyes were scanning all over me. 

Dad gripped both of my shoulders and turned me to face him, shaking me slightly as he asked. “Why is she saying you’re hurt, are you hurt?” I stuttered over my words and he noticed the hands in my pocket. “Show me your hands.” 

“Dad, stop.” More voices were piling into the conversation and I started to feel like I was drowning. 

“Okay everyone, let’s calm down,” Steve interjected. 

“Show me your hands!” 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” I screamed. I was holding both arms out in front of me now. My breathing had become erratic. Electricity pulsed underneath my skin. I could feel every object in the room, every person’s gravity pulling me in a thousand directions at once. Dad leaned back at my outburst, everyone else took a step away. 

“I’m going to need you to watch your tone, little miss,” Dad said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“And I’m going to need all of you to quit the horse shit,” I bit back, waving my pointer finger around the room as I spoke. “You have all been keeping me in the dark for a year. I am sick of it. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“You are not an Avenger anymore.” Dad was the only person with the balls to speak up. 

“Oh, don’t I know that,” I laughed bitterly. “You never let me forget it. And you know what’s funny, Tony? You preach about child endangerment, you swear that you’re keeping me safe but the truth is you can’t deal with the idea of your kid becoming stronger than you-”

Dad didn’t give me a chance to finish. He grabbed me by the upper arm and pulled. He dragged me out of the living room as if I was a dog who just tore up all of his designer throw pillows. My anger subsided and was replaced with shame. As Dad walked us to the hallway, he turned around and pointed at the red-stained document in Natasha’s hands. “I’ll be back. Sign it.” 

Article XII - Special Provisions for Minor Enhanced Individuals with Significant PotentialSection 3.7 - Laurie Stark Clause

Subject DesignationLaurie Maria Stark, a minor and known Enhanced Person (hereinafter referred to as "the Subject"), shall be subject to enhanced oversight protocols due to her unique abilities, which include but are not limited to gravitational and elemental manipulation. Given the considerable power inherent in these capabilities, and the potential risk to public safety, the Subject shall be bound by all regulations contained within this Article.

Mandatory ComplianceThe Subject shall adhere to all stipulations outlined within Articles I-X, specifically regarding the registration, tracking, and supervision of superhuman activity. The Subject is expressly prohibited from the unsupervised use of her abilities in public spaces or in any manner that might endanger civilian life or property, unless explicitly sanctioned by the International Enhanced Persons Oversight Committee (IEPOC).

Failure to ComplyIn the event that the Subject violates any of the statutes or stipulations outlined within Articles I-XII, the following measures shall be immediately enacted:

Immediate Detainment: The Subject will be detained by designated authorities without prior notice or warning, in order to mitigate any further threat to public safety.

Placement in a Specialized Containment Facility: The Subject will be transported to an Enhanced Persons Rehabilitation and Containment Facility (EPRCF), where she shall remain under secure supervision until further assessment and clearance by IEPOC.

Revocation of Conditional Freedoms: All conditional rights or privileges previously granted to the Subject, including but not limited to the right to independent movement and association, shall be summarily revoked.

Behavioral and Ability Development Assessments: In order to better understand and responsibly manage the Subject's capabilities, she will undergo periodic assessments with specialists to evaluate her behavioral and cognitive responses in controlled conditions. These assessments shall be conducted with a view toward ensuring public safety and furthering scientific understanding of Enhanced Persons.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Your photos are genuinely beautiful and show such amazing detail. Please just block and report these people sending those scam asks. Tbh, there is ones who sound completely convincing. My friend who lives in England and takes nature photos of the surrounding countryside, was contacted by someone who then conned them out of £250 using the exact same scam. The person seemed credible as their blog was a personal art and photography blog which had been in use for a long time, with a seemingly solid audience interacting with their work. We don't really know if it's an elaborate trap set up or the person was a genuine artist whose been enlisted to help con people for a fee. My friend is now locked in a war with her bank etc to get her money back. I don't know if there is measures you can take to report it and get your money back too. Genuinely if people want to donate money to you for your work then just keep it to Kofi because the scams are getting more complex and convincing. From now on don't give out your bank details or anything. If they're genuine just let them donate to Kofi and rigorously stick to that routine. I'm just so sorry this happened to you too 🫂

Thank you. Both for both saying you like my photos and the sympathy over what happened.

You are right about how convincing these cons can seem. In this case they even (apparently) used AI to create a believable WIP for the piece of art they were supposed to be creating. The blog was established and had realistic personal posts. When I realized I was probably being scammed I searched for the source of the art they had supposedly made, and discovered they had stolen it from Facebook (specifically a grandmother!) It looked completely real unless you dug.

If my brain hadn’t been so frazzled from life battering me I would have had the sense to check things out carefully. Also, normally I absolutely would NOT have sent money to them via PayPal. But my brain has been less than fully functional lately.

I NEVER give out my bank account info or anything I think is sensitive, but that wasn’t going to help in this case. They weren’t pick pockets reaching into my jacket but con artists tricking me into handing it over.

Yes, I feel stupid and embarrassed. Yes, the lost $100 has already changed what I can and can’t buy. But I am posting about it to warn folks.

See, the scam, for all the flourishes to make it believable, simply depends on the sucker (me) not knowing that when money is deposited into a bank account, it really isn’t “there” yet. Oh sure, it says it is there. The bank says you can spend it. And the first time I called the bank about it, they even said it was fine. BUT it turns out fake checks aren’t necessarily uncovered instantly, despite what you would expect in our high tech world. Days. Weeks. You can’t be sure, and when it bounces you, the victim, are the one on the hook because you are the only one there.

The scammer convinces you they are cutting you in on a share of the money from a painting based in your photo. They are very convincing, take their time, and show you the work in progress. Then, oops, the client accidentally sent all the money to you so could you please PayPal them their share. So a couple days you send it and….

Now I got lucky. Technical difficulties kept me from sending more than $100. And the delay gave me time to talk to someone. And talking gave me a chance to look at things again.

Of course, I called the bank. While the first time they dismissed my concerns, the next morning I got someone that took it seriously and made a proper report about it.

Basically, at this point, it looks like it is done from my end. The reporting is done. The phantom money has been removed form my account. I can’t do anything about the money I sent (and yes, I investigated it too), but no more money seems to be in danger and the bank doesn’t seem to be penalizing me (maybe because I reported it so quickly, rather than finding out when the check went poof?) I can’t really do more than I have done, except to warn others to take care.

And, yeah, from now on I will stick to just hoping for a bit of Ko-fi love now and then. (Maybe my Amazon wishlist too?)

Oh, and if any legit artist wants to us my photos for something, you send my the money vis Ko-fi and just tell me it’s thanks for being the source of inspiration. It would be much appreciated and an ethical choice, while not triggering my enemy alert system.

[yumester]

sending this back to sender. i need a full dissertation on pAInter STAT

Oh, look it's the silly mutual once again in my ask box, wailing and screaming like a drenched kitten or that one generic male character from the hit game going through the worst experience ever— (gets shot)

Anyway, here's my opinions on The p.AI.nter from the hit Roblox game.

You know the drill, putting a read more for my and everyone's safety.

Fucking character of all time, man. Not including Sebastian! We hate Sebastian in this house! 🗣

They made this shit in the lab and called it straight up cocaine for lore heads. And by lore heads I mean me homie!! /j

Gonna mainly go over each label but might go into detail later on so watch out.

Everyone but me is wrong about them <3: I mean this in the nicest way possible. Pressure fandom has already failed miserably at the characterization of Sebastian. We've seen it all, to people anime boyifing the hell out of his visage, to the literal creators having to ward people off by adding changes to the game's data by removing voice lines. Man is not your big monster hubby with a tortured soul. Okay, maybe he is a tortured soul, but more literal than that and less likely to cry on your shoulder or even give you the benefit of the doubt to hold you at arm's length. Anyway, I've seen some people babify the hell out of p.AI.nter as well, and it sucks. I'm sorry, but it's true. It is not your friend, guys. It just wants to paint.

they got done dirty but the creator/s: Okay IDK if you've even peered at the recent updates or uploads from the main creator, but it was shown that p.AI.nter will be updated to be killed at some point. I don't know if they already patched that through the other day because, for one, I haven't played the new update. And, two, I think anyone who tries to do so is a dumb bitch because all p.AI.nter does is trick the player with fake doors and has turrets in occasional rooms (yes, the turrets can be annoying at times but who cares). In my head, I feel like the entity adds some charm to the existing enemies you face during a play through. And removing those elements just feels like a waste. Technically speaking, you only get to The p.AI.nter's room in a certain percentage. Though I will say it makes sense in canon why you would be able to destroy it as Urbanshade as talked nonstop about removing any and all adversaries that get in its way, mainly Sebastian (Unfortunately and thankfully, in Sebastian's case, Sebastian can't be killed). But, I will also say, The p.AI.nter's document, however tragic that it is, kills me at the fact how they handled its owner's death. Like really? Accidentally killed with a rifle to the head because of some dumb guard, no less. If I was that sentient AI, I would no doubt feel endless dread and sorrow. Though, then again, The p.AI.nter is already had several moments of killing itself and been depressed while under Urbanshade's care.

ADOPTION PAPERS ADOPTION PAPERS FILING THE ADOPTION PAPERS: I won't bother writing a whole paragraph, so take this GIF of p.AI.nter as Edgar instead. <3

i am constantly going insane rotating them in my brain like a fork in a microwave: I can not overstate how much I love this little guy. I don't talk about it much nor articulate the words in discussing this freak like I wish I could. But The p.AI.nter is a character that resides in my head twenty-four, seven. Like I'm writing a fanfic about Sebastian right now—well before you sent this, but all I've been thinking about is this dumb AI. Its relationship with Sebastian. Its overall role in the story of the game and so forth.

the popular ships for this character suck: OKAY, OKAY! I know I reblog and sometimes like content of The p.AI.nter with Sebastian together, but that's mostly because I find ship art in general to be an endearing thing to look at from the views of a consumer. However, canon wise it just doesn't… click is all I'm going to say. I DO LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC, HOWEVER!

constantly listening to songs and mentally holding them up like a paint swatch: To be fair, I'm always listening to music, I'm a music junkie at heart and, brother, this shit is breakcore!

I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE A COCKROACH: All I'm saying is robotic characters growing sentience is a form of love in video game writing, baby. Also, like I loved The p.AI.nter even before friendly fire update. But y'know me, when it hit beta with its new voice and new face with the MS Paint program that has scratchy line art, circles for eyes and wobbly smile—I was ecstatic! I'm not an engineer or a computer nerd by any meanings, but I wouldn't give to be in Pressure for a spell to like look at inside and out in a non-sexual way of course LMAO.

whats wrong with them (affectionate): SO, SO MANY THINGS! MAINLY URBANSHADE </3

#LETTHEPAINTERPAINTFREELYCHALLENGE

not enough screen time: Maybe this is the me that “likes this character a normal amount” talking, but it makes me sad that The p.AI.nter doesn't say much when you visit its enclosure in heavy containment. Like, you visit Sebastian's shop, and he has like hundreds of dialogue, all of which include snide remarks and shouting at you. It's freaking Gianni I get people! But anyway, my man deserves a little more, thank you. <3

they've never done anything wrong in their life <3: Watch this video from 1:25 and 2:23 and tell me I'm wrong.

my opinions would be received by most fans as akin to hitting a wasps nest with a baseball bat: i shan't say...

This is the best character in the work: Discounting the most integral character, Sebastian fucking Shoelace, we have The p.AI.nter! Yippie!!! My blorbo, my absolute bestie, my man who hits me in the ass with high grade turret bullets to only die to the next room, my “locks me in a room with my wife as we discuss divorce papers and play 7 minutes in heaven” wingman. <3

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TedTalk!

[crypticpawpoems]

I am a Living Dead Man

It is base and fact:

Humanity fears that which it does not understand

Chaos for the fly, as the saying goes

So why is it I cannot claim my recognition?

The birds twitter and caw in the rafters

But they never land to perch

When the Brink came to visit me

It made all the birdies and purity go away

And I delighted in the state of mind

Long gone, streaming blood, frightful

In which I was rightfully given

I am more than I was, make no mistake

I yearn to be understood

But everything is all normal with the spider

My venom hurts those who would

Penetrate me

Love me with a normal love

Their organs dissolve too quickly

For me to feed

Claws rake my brains when I think

The weight of the air

Is torture

It’s because I think of the moment where

Innocence dies

I play mine on a constant loop, over and over

Time to rewind

I see balloons, lights flashing marquee, a ferris wheel

I see guns, dying people bleeding, gas explosions

It’s all the same to me

None of them can fathom it

They think I am fake

They lull themselves into a false way of observing

And that weakness

And the weakness of altruism

Will be their undoing

I speak not for the commonfolk

I speak not for the wealthy

Instead, I speak for the new elite, the fresh aristocracy

We of unkind heads do trod these dead

And we know them best

Their boils are our eyes

Their gashes, our arms

Their pus, our blood

Their rot, our hearts

The dead are not those in the grave

We are the dead

We elite soldiers of madness do hold

Power over life

Those poor, sane fools fear us for what we have

No control over

Our birthright

Show me a living dead man, and I will

Show you millions

They can never take away that which is not

Rightfully theirs, my mafia

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

Become Part of The Pack on the Official Cryptic Paw website, YouTube, and Patreon!

[twistedtavern]

While I wait for the poll to wrap up, I am going to do something objectively silly and rank how good my different AU versions of Maruki would be at generally being a boyfriend. Worst to best. YES FAVORITISM I KNOW

WHAT ARE YOU DOING -

MarukAI: First off, unethical AI practices. Second off, literally half of the directive it was made for is just murdering the real human version. It doesn't even come with any cool robot features, it's just emotionally unstable to a genuinely explosive degree. Anything happens ever and it's just screaming its fake lungs out. You're better off just handing it a baby doll and walking away very, very slowly.

TAKEN (nothing wrong with them they're just not interested lmao) -

Generation!Maruki: Konoe's "TEAMMATES?! FRIENDS?!?!" moment literally happened because Maruki turned him down due to, y'know, Rumi existing. You will get the same. Please don't break into Rumi's house over it.

Distortion!Maruki: Nothing personal this is just Maruki but old man yaoi. He's preoccupied being a dilf enjoyer

ARE YOU SURE -

Glamrock!Maruki: Are. Are you sure honey. Sweetie. Sweetie that is a robotic children's entertainer. Don't kiss him he was literally just eating out of the actual garbage 10 minutes ago. You can't even take him on a date anywhere because he will JUMP THE WAITER!! Yes I know he sits so polite to eat snacks and talk with you and he plays guitar really well but HONEY. HONEY NO HE HAS A COMPUTER VIRUS!!! Also, I REALLY don't wanna see the bill Madicce Entertainment would charge you for dating him.

Bowser!Maruki: So,, he's only this far down because of the kidnapping. Repeated kidnapping. And the other war crimes. But! He's a 10ft tall single father of 8! And a king! Can you really blame him?? He's very sorry about the war crimes. He'll take you on vacation to make up for it! Just ignore his daughter fucking up the local ecosystem with paint and your hired guard getting arrested about it. And saying you're her mother. But he'll give you a very nice wedding down the line! You'll have to also ignore the other kids committing multiple acts of international grand larceny behind his back to make it happen. You may or may not have consented to this wedding to begin with.

Reverse!Maruki: Uhm,,, I mean people talk about himbos but I don't think they mean a man with the reaction time of Padparadscha Steven Universe. What are you even gonna do on a date?? Have him stare at you? Not even lovingly, just stare??? Just get a body pillow at this point, because at least it won't jumpscare you with random bouts of becoming sapient again. At the end of it all I swear you will probably have learned NOTHING about him AT ALL even though he'd manage to undercut all of your efforts to reach him by pinpointing something about you completely out of left field. Also, he has counselled MORE than one whole entire murderer, so... Take that as you will. Weird ex you only hear stories about type man.

DECENT MAN TIER -

Self Aware!Maruki: Now we're getting somewhere! He's very sweet, has no murders to his name, loves kids, and his only crime was one incident that can technically be called a kidnapping and was definitely a direct brain tampering, but!! he was very nice and gentle about it and now that kid is in a loving home. A surprise adoption, as they say. Very Maruki. He may also have way more than a little trauma and emotional repression issues, but all in all, a very good and well behaved boy. As a bonus, he's extremely touch starved! And his alternate persona outfit is very cunty, I will give him that. 10/10 would get carried by him in every single battle again.

Hastur!Maruki: Yeah this is just Maruki if he got sparkle eyes at literally everything, served infinite cunt, sang, and had a DECENT BOSS OUTFIT WHAT THE FUCK ATLUS. And also had a final fight that you can ATTEMPT while high at the cost of your fucking life. You will have a stroke. He'd be very sweet and lovey with you! No notes, just a good pretty Maruki who'd get you glitter dusted flowers.

[satureja13]

Vlad returned early next morning to charge the Bond. Reluctantly - he's still embarrassed Ji Ho cought him in that silly mud fight with Jack... Vlad doesn't want Ji Ho to think he's childish. He knows how hard it is for Ji Ho to get over his anxiety and he so tries to act dependable and 'grown up' for him...

And shortly after Vlad arrived, the sun began to shine and Jack made pancakes for breakfast! He's so glad Vlad can finally eat real food, that he eventually learned how to cook! (That was about time ^^')

Ji Ho and Jack would love to go swimming but they have to care for Saiwa. No way they let him alone after his breakdown.

Vlad: "Go. I'll stay here for a bit longer." Jeb and Kiyoshi are in a bad state too and they need Vlad, but he would do anything to see Ji Ho happy. And Ji Ho is the happiest when he swims.

And while the two youngest went to the beach, Sai got up. Saiwa: "I should get myself together. I'm a burden for everyone around me." Vlad: "So Jack is a burden for everyone around him too?" Saiwa: "Of course not!"

Vlad: "See? We are there for each other. That's what friends are for, hm? None of us is a burden. Take your time. We will be fine. Look how happy they are."

Vlad can feel through the Bond how happy Ji Ho is.

And the Bond tells Ji Ho how happy Vlad is because he's happy. That's so odd. Ji Ho: "Jack, Morgan said I put a Siren's Spell on Vlad to beguile him. Do you think that's possible without me knowing? That the Council maybe used my grandfather to make me do this to gain access to his powers? Vlad is so so happy just because I'm happy right now. This isn't normal, don't you think? That he's so obsessed with me. I know now it's also the Bond - but he had been like this long before. He died for me - without hesistance." Jack: "Don't you forget about Val and Jino! Your souls travelled through time and space just to be reborn in you two. Your love is epic!" Ji Ho: "But if it's real - why can't I love him?" Jack sighed. He has no answer to that either. He is still struggling to wrap his head around Kiyoshi. That he's a deity now and that he did not torture them at the Lab and saved them instead. And almost got executed for this. And on top of it all, Jack tried to kill him... How is he supposed to deal with all this? On top of with all his other disorders?

The chirping of the birds is driving Saiwa crazy. It reminds him of his unutterable fake relationship with Kiyoshi... And now it's getting even louder! Is there a bird in the house?

Saiwa: "Oh I know this noise!" Vlad: "Saiwa! Wait!"

Saiwa: "What is he doing here!? There's no way I will let him mess with our brains! We know nothing about Arturo and why he gave us this board! What if the Council sent him!" Vlad: "Tiny Can followed them here because he missed Jack. They hid him because they were afraid it would upset you. But they need help, Saiwa. Professional help. We do what we can for them but we can't do everything, hm? Look, there is no internet or other remote connection to anything here. Just the PACKs device you've built. And you could set up the AI so, that it does not send our data anywhere, right?" Tiny Can looked sideways sheepishly and let out a sad chirp.

Vlad left. Kiyoshi and Jeb need him. Saiwa sighed.

But then he started to ponder about how to make the AI safe to use. For Jack and Ji Ho. And maybe also for himself. Maybe the tin can can point him a way back to Jeb...

Meanwhile Jack found a TukTuk at the beach and he's disappointed. Why couldn't it be a spaceship instead? (Opposed to Vlad, Jack has no problems acting childish ^^')

Outtakes

They have a hunch they are in a simulation! Or - maybe... we are? o.o'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[f1]

Editor of Die Aktuelle 'is fired over Michael Schumacher fake interview'

'Editor of German magazine Die Aktuelle' is fired for producing a fake interview with F1 legend Michael Schumacher using AI software The editor of German magazine Die Aktuelle has been fired over a fake interview  AI-generated interview claimed to include quotes from Michael Schumacher Schumacher hasn't given any interviews since a skiing accident in 2013  By Jeorge Bird For Mailonline Published: 10:17 EDT, 22 April 2023 | Updated: 10:17 EDT, 22 April 2023 The editor of German magazine Die Aktuelle has been fired for producing a fake interview with F1 legend Michael Schumacher.  Die Atkuelle published an interview including fake quotes from Schumacher which were generated by using artificial intelligence (AI). As reported by The Mirror, publishers Funke Magazine have fired editor-in-chief Anne Hoffmann. Schumacher, who won seven world championships, hasn't conducted any interviews since suffering a severe brain injury during a skiing accident in December 2013. The publishers of the magazine apologised to Schumacher's family and to their readers, describing the article as 'tasteless and misleading'. The editor of German magazine Die Aktuelle has been fired for producing a fake interview with F1 legend Michael Schumacher  Michael Schumacher's family are planning to take legal action against a magazine who promoted an 'exclusive interview' with the stricken F1 legend. Pictured: Mick Schumacher (left), with his mother Corinna (right) and sister Gina-Maria (middle) The magazine, which was published on April 15, includes an image of Schmacher smiling on the cover. The issue is claimed to include the 'first interview' with Schumacher since his accident. Little has been made public about Schumacher's condition. In the interview it is claimed that Schumacher said: 'My life has changed completely since [the accident]. That was a horrible time for my wife, my children and the whole family.  'I was so badly injured that I lay for months in a kind of artificial coma because otherwise, my body couldn't have dealt with it all.  Schumacher (pictured in 2012) hasn't been seen in public since a skiing accident in 2013 'Much better than years ago. With the help of my team, I can even stand on my own again and even walk a few steps slowly. 'My family and children have been a blessing to me and without them, I would not have been in business. 'Of course, they are very sad about how everything went, but unfortunately, that's life and I just have to endure the fact that things sometimes go badly. 'They support me and stand fast at my side.' The front page offered a sub-heading that read 'it sounds deceptively real', which immediately lead to questions over the interview.  The article opens: 'Talk to him once. Ask him how he's really doing. And finally got answers almost ten years after his tragic skiing accident. 'No meagre, nebulous half-sentences from friends. But answers from him! By Michael Schumacher, 54!  Die Aktuelle eventually admitted that the quotes had been generated by Artificial Intelligence 'Here it is - the incredible interview! With redeeming answers to the most burning questions the whole world has been asking for so long.' The article, which does not feature a byline, ends with an admission that the quotes are in fact fake and the magazine had not spoken to Schumacher or anyone in his family.  'Did Michael Schumacher really say everything himself? The interview was online. On a page that has to do with artificial intelligence, or AI for short,' the widely derided piece concludes. F1 fans condemned the magazine for its 'lack of decency' and the 'shame' in purporting to have spoken to Schumacher.  German media expert Boris Rosenkranz wrote a comment piece labelling the stunt 'Too stupid to be true'.   Share or comment on this article: Editor of Die Aktuelle is fired for producing a fake interview with Michael Schumacher via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

[continuations]

Thinking About AI: Part 3 - Existential Risk (Loss of Reality)

In my prior post I wrote about structural risk from AI. Today I want to start delving into existential risk. This broadly comes in two not entirely distinct subtypes: first, that we lose any grip on reality which could result in a Matrix style scenario or global war of all against all and second, a superintelligence getting rid of humans directly in the pursuit of its own goals.

The loss of reality scenario was the subject of an op-ed in the New York Time the other day. And right around the same time there was an amazing viral picture of the pope that had been AI generated.

I have long said that the key mistake of the Matrix movies was to posit a war between humans and machines. That instead we will be giving ourselves willingly to the machines, more akin to the "Free wifi" scenario of Mitchells vs. the Machines.

The loss of reality is a very real threat. It builds on a long tradition, such as Stalin having people edited out of historic photographs or Potemkin building fake villages to fool the invading Germans (why did I think of two Russian examples here?). And now that kind of capability is available to anyone at the push of a button. Anyone see those pictures of Trump getting arrested?

Still I am not particularly concerned about this type of existential threat from AI (outside of the superintelligence scenario). That's for a number of different reasons. First, distribution has been the bottleneck for manipulation for some time, rather than content creation (it doesn't take advanced AI tools to come up with a meme). Second, I believe that the approach of more AI that can help with structural risk can also help with this type of existential risk. For example, having an AI copilot when consuming the web that points out content that appears to be manipulated. Third, we have an important tool availalbe to us as individuals that can dramatically reduce the likelihood of being manipulated and that is mindfulness.

In my book "The World After Capital" I argue for the importance of developing a mindfulness practice in a world that's already overflowing with information in a chapter titled "Psychological Freedom." Our brains evolved in an environment that was mostly real. When you saw a cat there was a cat. Even before AI generated cats the Internet was able to serve up an endless stream of cat pictures. So we have already been facing this problem for some time. It is encouraging that studies show that younger people are already more skeptical of the digital information they encounter.

Bottom line then for me is that "loss of reality" is an existential threat, but one that we have already been facing and where further AI advancement will both help and hurt. So I am not losing any sleep over it. There is, however, an overlap with a second type of existential risk, which is a super intelligence simply wiping out humanity. The overlap is that the AI could be using the loss of reality to accomplish its goals. I will address the superintelligence scenario in the next post (preview: much more worrisome).

[carinelian]

agree with this! when i was a kid and first starting out on writing, i remember my brain physically hurting at having to line up words and get them in order on blank word docs

then i realized that's like, my literal brain in its formative years, experiencing the first signs (lol) and strains of critical thinking

i realized that the more it struggled the more it was able to think faster and jump between concepts, it is a muscle, after all

but ai doesn't allow people that process, we can't even say it 'does' the thinking because all it's doing to churn out stuff

and now, as algorithms take over, people are more and more susceptible to fake news, misinformation, disinformation and tendency to blindly follow others because of a lack of media literacy and critical thinking

so PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE

DO THE MANUAL BRAIN WORK. do not leave the critical work to AI-it's not the one that suffers the consequences of poorly-thought out and uninformed decisions!

we'll tackle the ethical use of AI in another day for people who really, really need it, but for now seeing as it's being used for profiteering and exploitation of creatives, data privacy and information...nah man it's a HELL NAH

I know that I am preaching to the anti-AI choir, but I genuinely believe that skills like summarizing, articulating, and refining an argument, engaging with existing research or information yourself, and going through the process of crafting materials are core skills for life but also for many careers, and outsourcing those degrades people's ability to think critically and engage with ideas.

Even ignoring the fact that generative AI is awful for the environment and based almost entirely in intellectual property theft and has a bunch of other ethical issues, using gen AI as a crutch will actually just make you worse at both engaging with life and doing many professional jobs.

But also, beyond this, you will benefit from actively engaging with research and the news and shaping, summarizing, and articulating arguments.

Can you read a piece of news or an article and understand the point it is making? Do you know how to identify the biases of the source? Do you know how to understand what you are reading in the context of that bias?

Can you shape an argument based on information you have engaged with? Can you validate that argument by seeking out additional relevant information? Can you describe that argument to someone who is familiar with the subject matter? Can you describe or summarize that argument to someone who is not familiar with the subject matter?

Can you articulate your point--whether it is an argument or just a question--in written format? Can you articulate it out loud? Do you know how to shape what you are expressing to a given audience?

Being able to articulate yourself clearly, in a logical structure that is based on verified evidence, is important for so much of life.

[the-firebird69]

It is my brother's style to tell me I don't know why. I'm at a student I have a wife who's smarter than both of them put together and sometimes me I don't understand he keeps giving me tons of leads and here it is this huge fight started with Nathaniel Hawthorne and Trump and individually Matt clans are not that huge but the secret was too intense and we feel that because they're constantly fighting they were both armed with AI and the force was built and that Force stopped them and the head guys are sitting on a bunch of people who are operated by someone who is in a tomb unfortunately this might be worse than you think just like the movie Terminator and people feel strongly about it and they're doing the job and showing it at the same time their own job and they're saying this could be a huge problem and yeah our brains are inside and it's gross but I'm trying to take it over and they should it's for a very good reason those ships names are SS impregnable and SS and invincible and they will leave with other ships that are gigantic and flood the Earth pump it out of tunnels melt the caps and they'll fled some tunnels too after and whatever's left will come out and get destroyed by these massive ships which will pulverize them and they're part of the clans by the way

Zues Hera

What time are you hearing from you Trump we're tired of hearing from you you know that he's planning on doing it

..

I don't know if they're lost or not and I get reports to say they're not what you're saying is definitely out and I'd like to know how you know well your friends when they're shopping can tell you that you probably do a fake shopping for me try and get the same items usually fail so you might as well fail and put a whole bunch of Swiss cheese into your bin that's why you're not getting it there's another one you could use and I'm not giving you permission to actually do this but really your guys got hurt real bad and you say you have the embeds and everybody on Earth knows that Dave would make the invention secretly put them somewhere you know this is paranoid about being taken over by the computer another thing to note is Dave is not with it... Here's what I say we could have given it up to a computer and that's why you had the movie made and the computer is bothering this s*** out of you with it yeah and it needs me and my wife get some to fight each other a little because of what we can do to the thing if something happens to us or something doesn't and it's up to the computer to decide and we're going to look into this Nathaniel Hawthorne we do notice there's some around and we do need to figure it out

Trump

Olympus