#the uncaring algorithm

[seraphicdemons]

If Tumblr fades into nothingness I’m seriously gonna stop using social media all together.

Twitter is incessant doomscrolling and is helmed by an idiot who thinks he’s the second coming of Jesus.

Instagram sucks for artists and it has for a while. Plus it’s full of garbage ads and catered towards reels so much it’s not even funny.

Reddit is reddit. (And even then their leadership actively went against its community by copying twitter and shutting down all 3rd party apps despite a massive protest)

Facebook is out of the picture for anyone under the age of 55.

Tiktok is highly polarizing at best and hard to manage (both as a time-sink and as a creator).

Where the hell are we supposed to go??

[gekkonidae]

ive gradually lost like 300 followers on instagram from inactivity and i could not be any happier

[limpwristssavelives]

There was also this episode on the WTF with Marc Maron Podcast (roughly 1:03:00-1:05:00) posted 11/20/23 where he (indirectly) says this about palestine

I couldn’t reblog with the clip but i posted it here and also the transcript of what was said below

Marc: “I think a lot of times what you know is relative to your personal history. And then the rest is sort of like, you know, you pick and choose. Or somebody contextualizes something.”

Taika: “That is interesting because like, you know, especially like, I have no idea what this is, but like, around the world there’s this idea that like you must know about everything. You must have a comment. You must have an opinion and know about every single thing going on. And I’m like, okay, how many of you know about the things the Māori have gone through in New Zealand? How many of you know about, you know, the land wars in the 1800s and what we went through? How many of you know that it was illegal to speak our language in school? How many of you know about what we lost? No one.”

Marc: “Of course not.”

Taika: “But you’re expected to jump on someone's side, you know, whenever something's on Instagram or when something's like, you know, you need to be on the-”

Marc: “Right, when the global culture decides, when the momentum picks it, when the algorithm that dictates what we're supposed to know is important, decides collectively what is important and all of a sudden everyone's up in arms. I live in, this is an Armenian neighborhood and they've gone through horrendous history. I'm not real clear on it, but I respect the fact that like, all right, something bad happened.”

Taika: Yeah. Asking minorities to care about other minorities is, yeah, we should, but it's just a funny thing where it's like, You know, I understand a little bit like why some minorities. They go. Oh, okay. You're making a big deal about that. What about us?”

broke: criticizing taika for supporting israel or getting guz fired or being an absent father or [insert other thing there's no evidence of].

woke: criticizing him for executive producing the show that's been melting my brain for two years.

bespoke: criticizing him specifically for suggesting "this woman's work" for the soundtrack and thus making me cry every time i think about that scene.

[aismoker]

Alex was a product of modern society. Staring large parts of his life on his phone, he perceived the world through the algorithms of the small device that almost never left his hand. He wasn't aware of this. He never thought about the fact that everything he saw and heard, the things that matttered to him, were provided by distant, uncaring companies, whose main goal was to make money. No, he saw it as completely normal that his life revolved around the number of likes, re-tweets and views. He thought he couldn't live without them. He would be a no one. He wouldn't matter. He needed the constant reassurance of his online friends.

The way he lived his life made him very insecure and afraid. Subconsciously, he had hung the sword of Damocles above his head, made of the fear for dislikes, the fear to get cancelled, to be shunned by his peers. From a happy out-going teenager he had grown into a frightful, stressed young adult, always trying to show how perfect his life was, always trying to meet the standards he saw on his phone. Standards that were raised higher and higher everytime he glanced on his phone.

Almost everything he did, he did so he could share it online. That was also the reason why he went to the beauty salon every other friday. Not because he was vain by nature, but out of fear not to meet the standards anymore. To be judged and found unworthy.

This friday, however, things were not going as planned for Alex. He stood in front of the door of the beauty salon he always went to. But this time was different. On the door was a note: "Closed until further notice due to a medical emergency." Alex's stress levels and anxiety sky-rocketed. Suddenly he found it hard to breathe. What was he going to do? He needed his beauty routine! What if his friends would notice? They would make fun of him! He would perhaps even lose followers! He NEEDED it! Not a single thought in his head went to the owner of the beauty salon and her medical emergency.

The longer he stood there, the more stressed he felt. He had to make a live stream in a couple of hours and he would look ridiculous. He had to find another place that could get him tidied up! Stress started to turn into panic. He frantically checked his phone. There were no beauty salons in the neighbourhood. Only a barbershop, without any ratings. Since it wss the only option he had, Alex decided to go there. He tried to stay positive. Perhaps it would be a hidden pearl that he was discovering! He could make a video about it! But he knew he was only thinking that, in order to keep his sanity.

He followed the route set out by his phone. When it said that he had reached his destination, he looked up from his phone. He stood in front of an old barbershop. The place looked nothing like the beauty salon he normally went to... with a bit of hesitation he walked towards the door.

As he opened the door, he expected to smell the comforting mixture of shampoo and other beauty products. Instead, he was welcomed by a strong pungent smell of... cigars? Alex hesitated and frowned. He had the feeling it was a bad idea. But still, he needed to get fixed up.

Alex opened the door further and stepped inside. As the door closed behind him, he felt his heart jump. Inside the shop the atmosohere was heavy. It was as if a heavy blanket was pulled over him. He could feel how it slightly dulled his senses. He slowly walked deeper into the shop. It was silent. Almost too silent. He could not hear anything, not even from the street outside. The smell of cigar smoke was getting stronger and stronger and the air was getting hazier. It was as if Alex had entered a completely different world, where he was completely alone. He looked at his phone. No reception. Alex wondered how long ago it was that he had been off the grid. He couldn't remember.

Alex, however, wasn't completely alone. At the back of the shop was standing a man. Not just a man. A real man. Strong, masculine, with a big beard and a perfectly shaved head. It was as if a power was radiating from him. Alex couldn't help but think that this guy was everything he was not. The man approached Alex and after taking a deep drag, he started speaking, the deep timbre of his voice almost echoing in Alex' ears: "Welcome, my friend, this is your first time here, isn't it? What can I do for you?" The man kept looking at Alex as he came closer. Alex was a bit stunned. "Uh... I... I just need a small fixer upper... Just a fresh restyle of my hair and... you do facial cleanings?" The man stood now directly in front of Alex, looking him directly in the eyes and exhaling cigar smoke directly into his face. Alex didn't even notice it. He was transfixed by the barber's dark eyes. They seemed to penetrate Alex's soul, seeing things that no one else could see. Alex felt like he stood naked in front of the man, but he couldn't move. "Sorry, my friend," the barber said, "we don't do those things here, but I think I can give you what you need." The man turned around and walked to one of the chairs. Alex followed him. He sat down, not sure what was going to happen.

"Just relax, my friend. I am going to help you," the barber said as he put a barber cape around him. He then started to massage Alex' head.

It didn't take long before Alex was completely relaxed. The barber's hands felt so good on his head. The cigar smoke wasn't bothering Alex anymore, it was as if was forming a protective cocoon around him and the barber. A small world, in which only the two of them existed.

After a while, the barber started speaking to Alex, softly and friendly: "Yes, that's good, my friend... Relax... You really need to relax... Let all those troubles fall away... You are safe here... There is no need for stress and anxiety... Yes, that's good... Deep breathes... Very good... The smoke doesn't bother you... It helps you to relax... Yes, good deep breathes... The deeper you breathe in, the more you let me in... You want that, don't you? ... I can help you... fix you... Yes, very good... let me in...

As the barber kept massaging Alex' head, Alex felt more and more relaxed. The more he relaxed, the more he could feel the powerful presence of the barber surrounding him. He felt so good, so safe, like there was nothing else in the world besides him and the barber. He didn't think about his live stream anymore, there were no thoughts about retweets or likes anymore. It was just him and the barber, together in the smokey cocoon. As the barber continued to massage his head, Alex opened his mind to the barber. He could feel the barbwr's power flow into his mind, loosening and straightening out the knots that had formed there.

"Yes, my friend, very good... Open yourself uo to me... You are so full of stress and anxiety, like so many in modern society... all consumed by your phone... by what others might think of you... you have lost yourself, haven't you?"

Alex not even aware of it, nodded, tears started to well up in his eyes. The barber kept massaging Alex' head.

"Don't worry, my friend. I can help you... teach you... You want that, don't you? To be the person you were meant to be... Strong... No longer afraid to be judged by your friends..."

Alex nodded again. The barber smiled friendly. "I knew you would." For a moment he stopped, to light up a fresh cigar. He then continued massaging. The clouds of smoke became denser and denser, until hardly anything could be seen. Alex kept breathing in the smoke, welcoming them in his lungs, like his brain was welcoming the words of the barber."

After several hours, the barber was done. Alex, waking up from his trance stood up and embraced the barber. "Thank you, my friend," he said. The barber smiled and returned the embrace. "No problem, my friend, but know that you are just at the beginning of your journey."

Alex left the barber shop. He felt different. Lighter. Happier. As he walked past a waste bin, he took his phone out and threw it in. No longer wanted he to be controlled by it. No longer was he controlled by it.

3 MONTHS LATER

"Hello, my friend, it's me, Alex. You probably don't recognize me. Once I was like you. Living on my phone instead of in the world. My barber, however, changed my life for the better. He showed me, there was another way of living, a berter way, without following the whims of modern society. I used to be what others wanted me to be, always afraid of their judgement. Haha, when I think of it, it sounds so silly. Now I don't longer care about what people think of me and if they judge me. Their judgement doesn't matter. The few of the friends that knew me in real life have shunned me, they think I am a pariah and are afraid that my appearance will make them look bad, but I don't care. My outside now reflects who I am inside. I am proud of who I am. Prouder than I have been ever before.

I am now on my way to the barber. I go there now every Friday. Not to get my hair cut, but to learn. He is a good friend, a teacher and a mentor. He is almost like a father to me. He helps me to become the man I really am. I picked up the cigar habit from him, but well, no one is perfect, right?

After that we go out and meet friends. Through him, I came in contact with great guys. Some of them used to be like me, but they also saw the light. We meet ever Friday and we have become friends very quickly, but it feels like we have become brothers.

If you want, I can introduce you to them. We are always happy to find new brothers.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Good day!

I am a white woman of a certain age and when I was growing up in the Seattle area, the word for this hairstyle

was always "dreadlocks", shortened by people my young (at the time) age to "dreads".

For several years now I have noticed I never see "dreads" or really even "dreadlocks" anymore. It's locs.

I'm not confused by the verbiage, I've never not understood what "locs" means, but I do still inherently think of the style as "dreads" first, simply because that was formative for me.

Is this shift just a living language thing, where common usage just replaced one term with another? Was my experience regional, and only in the PacNW were they ever called anything other than locs? Is "dreads" actually racist and I've just never been exposed to the information that I should have been in that regard?

(And if so, I sincerely apologize for its use in this ask and mean absolutely no disrespect)

As an addition to this question, I did try to look it up myself first, but Google is such ass now (or I just couldn't get the right search terms for seo to yield results) that I couldn't find anything useful on it. I did find WAY too many pictures of white people with this hairstyle, and an overabundance of sales pages for white hair extensions in some variation of this style. I wonder if that's common, or if it's just because Google knows I'm white and the search results reflect that. Either way, it was obnoxious that I had to word my searches extra specifically to get Black hair in my results.

Thanks for all you do!

To answer your questions in not the right order:

1. It's both. You are white, which means the things you research are probably going to be more geared towards an algorithm that fellow white folk use. They gotta advertise to you!!! And, Google is just racist. It's why I try to convince people on here that you have to get specific with your searches and use key words you find to dig deeper to reach what you want. Because if you just type in "Black hair styles" you're still gonna get a lot of white people and AI. It's obnoxious ASF and always has been. Can't just toss your hands up at the first wall.

2. It's a cultural thing, trying to reform the imagery of the hairstyle, a sort of reclamation if you will. I've mentioned in prior lessons that not everyone is going to get up in arms if you say dreads or dreadlocks. I prefer locs. It's mainly because saying dread has a connotation that my hair is dirty, nasty, uncared for. People, often white and in positions of power, hear dreadlocks and they think weed and tangles and lazy stereotypes that just aren't true. So it wouldn't be racist if you called someone's locs dreads, but it would be racist if they told you "I prefer locs/please say locs because-" and you said "well when I grew up it was dreads" okay well that's not how I identify them, so.

[screamingcrows]

A Good Night's Sleep (part 2) - Zandik x Reader

Author's note: Feed this to an AI algorithm and I'm giving you Clostridium difficile. Also fuck this. This is nowhere close to what I wanted, so now I'm throwing it out so it won't leer at me from my wips. Maybe I'll come back once I get over my subconscious aversion to writing smut. 1.8k words Warnings/tags: dubcon, but not how you think, dry humping, blood (very little), fem reader, tigers have barbed penises, earlier somnophilia, panic, coercion, they're both something, suggestive, nsfw, zandik is stuck in his head Part 1 MINORS, AGELESS, AND BLANK BLOGS DNI - you will be blocked on sight

"Go back to sleep"

There was a slight crack his voice despite Zandik's best effort to keep it even. He had already moved away from you, shaking his hands in the air, trying desperately to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations.

His palms tingled, caressing the ghost of your skin with every frantic movement. For the third time in his life there was nothing in his mind. It made him want to rip his hair out.

You were turning around.

Something had to be done to make you stop, he wouldn't look at you. Moving in tandem, he rolled onto his other side. The front of his boxers was wet. An urge to scream scratched at the back of his throat.

"Zandik? I- I asked you a question…"

Her voice felt like syrup, flowing into his ears. Thick, disgusting, alluring. The light sniffles were filtered out by his mind, as was the way her breaths became increasingly erratic. It felt vile, being an insect writhing on silken strands was not something that suited him.

Zandik recoiled when your fingers dug into his shoulder, you shouldn't be reaching out for him. He shuffled further towards the other side of his mattress. A calm mind to handle this, that's what was needed, and nothing about you trying to turn him around was calming. Although his mind had cleared significantly, there was still a bothersome ache in his body.

"And I said go back to sleep," he'd snapped the words at you before he could stop it.

Everything felt awful when he pushed off to stand, blanket sliding into a pile. His back was towards you when he clambered out under the net, stomping barefoot away from your little camp. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at anyone doing the same, if was unsafe and a blatant overreaction.

That didn't matter. Not when he could feel the sticky substance sliding down his abdomen. How it made the fabric cling to his skin. Worst of all was the smell of his own release. Even while covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he could detect those musky notes.

It made him gag, crumpling into the underbrush as he fought back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach. Morbid curiosity bid his free hand to ghost over his crotch, body jerking when he felt the wet patch. Even worse was the fact that he was still-

He shook his head, uncaring that his head still swam and any jostling came with a risk. A clear mind, that was the least he could supply. Soft sounds of running water caught his attention. Perfect.

It was closer than he'd dared to hope. Half tumbling down a small hill before he found himself on his knees. The water had already been disturbed by his movements, if there were predators, stealth was no longer an option.

The least he could do was practice restraint this time. Being found half naked, mauled in a stream was far from the legacy he desired. After what felt like an eternity of bated breaths, eyes flickering around the dark forest, Zandik dared to relax a little. If a spinocrocodile or worse had been nearby, it would've already struck by now.

Cleaning himself took longer than what was reasonable, but the cool water helped to soothe the prickling under his skin. Thoughts of you were kept at bay by his shivering, and every tantalizing memory that did make it through those defenses was quickly decimated with a simple look at the consequences in his hands.

Failure was a ruthless teacher.

His hands remained submerged in water, fingertips slowly going numb. Slivers of moonlight crept through the canopies above. There was something twisted in how gently it caressed his features when his head tilted back. Why would it shine so lovingly on him now?

Perhaps playing your preordained part was the only way to be accepted by them.

Walking back turned out to be more difficult than expected, feet dragging along the ground being a particular nuisance when paired with less than optimal lighting conditions.

How was he going to explain that he was naked? The thought of stumbling into someone else on the short walk back briefly flashed through his head, but that was a thought he would not entertain. Not until faced with that reality at least. And what would he say when you undoubtedly kept pestering him with questions?

There was no doubt that he had to go back, you still had things to complete the following day. And returning to the Akademiya alone would be folly, not when everyone knew you'd left together.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, briefly flinching from the cold touch. How was he supposed to deny what you would've pieced together in an instant if you were properly awake. Convincing you it had been a figment of your own imagination was undoubtedly the best course of action. If only there were dreams to blame.

Conveniently, your back was turned towards the direction he emerged from. Carefully maneuvering back to his mat, he swiftly looked through the modest bag he'd brought, desperate for something to cover himself with after forsaking his clothes in the water. A waste, but one he couldn't bring himself to care about. Especially not when his focus was broken by you moving a little.

With rising adrenaline, he swiftly lay down, struggling to pull the blanket over himself without alerting you. Clean boxers gripped tightly in his hand, he waits with bated breath for what feels like an eternity, accompanied only by your soft breaths and the ringing in his ears.

When you hadn't moved for a while he took the chance to shuffle around a bit, intent on finally getting dressed again and forget this ordeal.

"You know," your soft voice caused his breath to hitch, the silence deafening before you continued, "you could've just asked me…"

He lay frozen, leg raised off the ground, boxers halfway on as he considered if acknowledging your statement would doom his set course of action. Before he could finish the thought, you continued, uncharacteristically certain with your words.

"I'm at least guessing it wasn't an accident?"

"I simply needed some air and got up. It's none of your concern," he found himself struggling to remain cordial.

Why couldn't you just leave him be?

He heard your little huff, could almost see the way you were no doubt leering at him, deep eyes narrowed in frustration. It was infuriating how quickly you flooded his mind again, the clear water of the stream having done nothing to wash away those urges.

"Why can't you just admit to it? I know that was cum on my back, Zandik. I'm not stupid."

"Good, then you'll have no trouble understanding when I tell you to stop bothering me and go back to sleep."

Admittedly, the words came out harsher than intended, but the longer you remained awake, the more difficult it would be to write all this off as a drowsy delusion.

When his eyes finally closed, everything finally began to feel better. The ordeal had even made a comfortable weariness settle behind his eyes.

It took mere minutes before his rest was disturbed by a weight against him. He turned onto his back, wanting nothing more than look at the stars and scream. Instead he was met with your face hovering above him.

You adjusted your body, straddling his hips as you straightened your back. His eyes were wide, following the lines of your body, seeing the light bruising that had bloomed from his touch. Shame burned in his blood, not from the action but the confrontation that he hadn't been nearly as restrained as he thought.

He took a deep breath, tensing when your hands pushed down on his shoulders.

"Get off"

"Why? Isn't this what you wanted?"

He had to grit his teeth when you rolled your hips, keenly aware of the blood gathering down there. It didn't help how warm you felt against him.

"I said, get off"

You shot him a glare, nails digging into his shoulders a little. He knew the look in your eyes. You were plotting something, and if he wasn't struggling to keep his focus away from your lips, he might have been able to prepare.

The relief that entered him when you leaned forward was palpable, trapped in the mindset that you would climb back down. Instead your warm tongue pressed against his pulse, dragging up the column of his neck. It made him groan, hands shooting up and grabbing your waist in an instant to stop your movements.

That was a mistake. Once more feeling your softness had his mind reeling, and he didn't miss how sighed in satisfaction when his grip tightened. Your breath wafted against his ear, close enough that he could almost feel your soft lips against his skin.

"But I want to do this with you"

Something in your voice made him shiver, stoking the embers of an unknown force. It made him briefly pause, and that was apparently all the opportunity you needed. He doesn't have time to react before you've pulled the blanket out from between your bodies.

You're practically laying atop him, the feeling not nearly as restrictive as feared. Eyes fluttering at the odd comfort it provided.

"How are you-" his voice falters, nothing but static in his mind for a moment. "How can you enjoy this?"

Bubbling laughter ringing through the darkness is all the answer he gets, swiftly accompanied by the press of lips against his collarbone. He writhed at the feeling, obtrusive and much too intimate. Would you rip out his throat if given the chance? Would he?

His fingers were sneaking under the hem of your shirt, discovering with dismay that the fabric had a moist spot at the very bottom… You hadn't changed. Repulsive.

He has to yank your hair for your lips leave the bruise they'd been carefully nurturing. Your expression reminds him of predator moments before it strikes, and he can only scold himself for not recognizing that of course the intensity he respected would bleed into every aspect of your being.

"Stay with me."

A groan is ripped from his throat when you bite down at the junction of his neck, one of your hands tugging at his hair. Tentatively, his fingers run along the curvature of your spine, feeling how you arched for him. Warmth spread through his body with every kiss and lick to the column of his neck, barely noticing how you were grinding against him.

It did feel good, he wasn't blind to how his cock throbbed from the stimuli. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of your back splitting open under his nails, nor were the whines spilling from your lips.

[occasionaltouhou]

Okina is a goddess of disabilities. Many disabilities these days are mitigated through usage of prosthetics, replacing parts of the body with mechanical body parts, limbs, organs, etc. Keiki's haniwa army are comparable to robots. Her turning people INTO haniwa gives off a sort of cyberpunk "lose your identity to the machine" kind of vibe. Except, of course, people with disabilities getting help they need to function doesn't make them Evil or Soulless, it makes them dependent on the companies who produce the parts their bodies use to function. I feel like... I'm almost at something here. The intersection of Okina and Keiki, mitigating the unfortunate circumstances within one's life only to find oneself under the control of she who helped you.

before we begin, let's quickly bring up zun's own thoughts on keiki and the haniwa from scoow

i feel like the difference between okina and keiki comes down to how they see people. they're both pretty dismissive, of course, but the quality of that dismissiveness is different. keiki represents ai, algorithms, the uncaring machines that are nigh-unavoidable these days. she doesn't care about humans because to her - and to a lot of those humans - they're simply Components. they're already parts of the machine. fairly classic unsubtle dystopic storytelling. as zun notes, it'd be boring on its own, but it's presented in direct contrast to the other dystopia going on just outside.

okina, on the other hand, likes people. she just doesn't like them in the way that people like people. she likes them as stories, as ideas, as vessels of madness, as things to be examined and explored and dissected.

so bringing things back around to their ideas in relation to disabilities, you're definitely onto something in terms of prosthetics and the like being conditional, especially in different perspectives, but there's a difference there. okina, in spite of everything, would probably provide her aid free of charge, because she'd simply want to see what you'd do. if you want to become her servant down the line, that's great, but she's just as frequently gone and given aid just to see what'd happen. keiki, on the other hand, is absolutely that emotionless, callous system in action - after all, as a haniwa, you'll still need repairs and maintenance, and she's the only one who can do all of that.

so there is an intersection, but not as much of one as you think. i guess this was a really long-winded way of going "yes, but no", huh

[lakia-chan]

Science & Faith

A parallel case study of how Alhaitham is like in love.

pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader

contains: fluff, stream of consciousness

word count: 722 words

a/n: i feel that most people either write alhaitham as loving rationally or irrationally and stick with it. but i love exploring both sides depending on my mood lol. (also yes the title is a rip off of The Script) ANYWAYS!! my very first fic!! i haven't properly written since i was like 12 so here's my debut i guess lol. i wanna take requests but felt that i needed to write something first y'know? my blog is kinda empty right now so just ignore and feel free to send in anything or interact!!

Your existence is a phenomenon.

Scientifically, you check all the boxes. Your unparalleled beauty that would make the divine envious, your pleasant demeanor that makes the coldest hearts thaw, and your soft gaze that engulfs your target.

Despite all his flaws and yours not, you've decided to grace him with your affections and time. The one in a million idyllic scenario that he concluded was only theoretically possible.

He's knowingly a rude, uncaring hermit that grimaces at the grievances and noise of the people that surround him. Yet, you have never once been the subject of his ire. Somehow, you're never too loud, never too proud and always so understanding of his disposition. It's as if you’ve cracked the code that is him, a skillful balancing act of not too much and not too little. Everything there is that makes up you compliments him, from the melodious inflections of your voice, your easy gait and the click of your heels, to the things that pique your interest that you speak so passionately about. You neither annoy nor bore him, something he’s unused to.

You're the missing piece in the complicated puzzle of his life, something he didn't even know he yearned for until your arrival. You fall into place easily, with all his awkward corners and sharp protrusions.

It just feels so right. You just feel so right.

You've jump started his heart into life, something he didn't think would happen in this lifetime, and it truly feels as if he was created solely to meet and love you.

The people of Sumeru City mourn the fact that you've decided on him out of all your potential suitors. And his own personal friends wonder about the intricacies of the seemingly odd pairing.

He feels quite the opposite. You decode all the errors of his mind, turn the negatives into positives. It's as if you're the missing variable in the formula, and the perfect solution you and him. To him, it is inconceivable that he could be with anyone other than you.

He will continue to love you so, because rationally, you just make sense.

Your existence is an anomaly.

Despite all the empirical evidence that you're just so wholly different from him and that he should find no reason to, he loves you.

Your charming image, the twinkle in your eyes, and the teasing lilt in your sinful cadence mess up the neat lines in his head, break the code in the already failing system that is his heart before you. Until the only thing that makes sense is you, loving you.

There's nothing to decode, to analyse, when it just feels so right in the depths of his chest to be with you. It's unfathomable that something that feels this right could be wrong.

Unknowingly, he has accepted you and your anomalies into the ecosystem of his mind. Thoughts of you become entangled in the web of information and pure logic he operates on. You become part of the algorithm. You're a part of him, mind, body and soul.

Now, your smile that sends his heartbeat into overdrive is part of the procedure, the tips of his reddening ears an expected outcome when conversing with you.

It's absolutely ridiculous.

It's decidedly bad for him, with the way he humiliates himself in your presence and throws caution to the wind when you're concerned. Terrible for his reputation too, might he add, with how he indulges in nonsensical mannerisms to please your whims and ignoring his ethos of order and rationality.

The people of Sumeru City constantly speculate how a mismatched pair came to be, scrutinising his actions and concocting wild assumptions. Even his own personal friends are in doubt, how far does the cliché of opposites attract truly go?

Truthfully, he feels the same. You've made the man who functioned on logic and numericals crumble at your feet, ensnaring him in the trap that is you. He's a man gone insane, having consumed the forbidden knowledge of loving you.

You're a curiosity to him, the way you've made him experience and embrace the irrationality of human nature. Under your guidance, he now believes in something as superficial as fate and coincidence, rather than calculated chances and statistics.

He will continue to love you so, because irrationally, you just make sense.

strictly do not repost or plagarise my works on any social media platforms. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[tiffy-lil-blog]

My dream app

Purpose: Master or Mistress can’t be expected to always be paying attention to needy littly subs like me - and there’s something so delicious about uncaring mechanical control, right? This (fantasy) app helps address that issue.

How does it work?

Stage 1 of this little fantasy of mine was simple enough: The app makes the phone’s facial recognition algorithm much more strict. Every time you pick up the phone to use it, the phone will ONLY recognize you if you’re smiling. If not, you get a message to “Smile more! You’re pretty when you smile.” Then, once it accepts your facial recognition, it turns on your camera showing you your face for one full minute -- and what girl isn’t going to use that minute to check her makeup and make sure she looks pretty, right? (Optional countdown clock a la Jeopardy and pink confetti fluttering along the borders of your image. Followed by a “good girl” message (cuz everyone loves that!)) Simple conditioning to make you focus on your appearance. And just think about how often you pick up and look at your phone every day!

But we all know Masters and Mistresses are much more devious and cruel (*shiver*) than that. Which leads to some variations that Master or Mistress can turn on - of course using a code to ensure the sub using the phone can’t turn it off. 

Stage 2 involves a peripheral ... and pairing that peripheral (locking shock collar) to the phone and app. Now the fun begins. Now you have a Master/Mistress ... and a Machine. All of which have expectations - and a means to punish you if you fall short. 

In Stage 2, the app takes your makeup check a step further. Upon opening the camera for you to see your face, it takes a quick picture and uses its own algorithm to determine whether there are any shortcomings in your makeup. Maybe a smudge in your lipstick or a little eyeliner out of place? Once your minute is up, it compares the new you to the old. If you failed to correct your makeup - BZZZZT! Accompanied by “Fix your makeup, bitch. Are you stupid?” (Text is customizable.) Now every time you pick up your phone, there’s a little knot in your belly about whether you will be good enough. Every text or email will make you just a little nervous. 

Stage 3. But don’t consider ignoring those messages! Stage 3 first uses the phone’s gyroscope and camera to ensure it is always face up. Starting with Stage 3, whenever you get any alert on any platform, your phone will begin to display pictures of cocks. Sure there are other means of getting your attention, but this is much more humiliating. Better not leave your phone sitting on your desk or on the table at lunch. You never know when a stream of cocks will explode. (And if you decide to put it face down - BZZZT! Silly girl. You know better than that.) As soon as you pick up your phone to check your messages, the cock pictures will stop - and you’re into Stage 1 and 2 to unlock your phone. Did someone see the cock pics? Feeling frazzled and humiliated? Too bad! Better smile for the app!

Extended ideas: - Dimmer: As soon as it’s downloaded, the app deletes any other apps that are “too smart,” including news apps, magazines, weather, current events. It has a series of recommended apps and bookmarks to download (mostly fashion and makeup focused, along with a series of “how to please a man” or “how to please a woman” instructionals). - Dum DOwn Pluss: App regularly asks you simple questions - and shocks you if you answer correctly. Spelling words, doing math equations. But here’s the trick: Whatever you answer (incorrectly) the first time is now the only answer every time. Master or Mistress knows this ... but sub only learns by doing. “What’s 2+2?” Answering 4 gets you a shock. Simple enough. So you answer 5. No shock. Stupid app. Day 2 brings up “how do you spell ‘hi’?” Uncertainly, you type in Hiiiii! - and get no shock. Lesson learned. Every day, new math and spelling. Two weeks later, the app circles back to 2+2. You know better than to answer 4, so you answer 22. BZZZT! What? Why? (And here, at the grocery store? Did anyone see my reaction?) You answer 4, another shock. 3? Shock. 5! No shock. How long will it take you to realize your previous answer is the new answer? And how many of the letter “i” did you put into “Hiiii!” anyway?  - More dummer: App turns off all spellcheck/autocorrect functions and disables backspace/delete. It enables it’s own search/replace using the dictionary you created using Dum DOwn Pluss for all emails/texts. 

Really, the options are neverending. App pairs with a calorie counter and fitness app. App works to lower your stability by giving you little shocks that wake you up randomly through the night while you’re sleeping. App pairs with your calendar to wake you up more often on nights when you really need to sleep for that important presentation or whatever (but really, what dummy has an important presentation, right? What a silly idea). App adds to the cock pics in Stage 2 with humiliating sounds from porn videos (particulary the ones it has record of you watching). Then there is app taking all of the photos it has of you and opening dating profiles and/or posting to your own social media. 

Is it still under the control of your Master/Mistress? When was the last time you even heard from them? Is your life just run by this app now? That’s making money by selling access to you and your story to perverts around the world? 

...

so, really, this is a whole world or story possibilities, it sounds like. If anyone wants to write some, feel free! I’d love to see what you come up with. Please tag #TiffyApp wherever you go so I can see it. 

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober 2024 - Day 14: Actually Just Ink

Rating: G Prompt: Headcanon WordCount: 582 Summary: Unknown has time to kill, and surely he couldn't waste it sleeping, so he will have to refresh and prove his devotion to Mint Eye. Author's Notes: This one's been floating around in my brain for awhile, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy it.

As the screen flickered in front of him, Unknown sighed.  The algorithm would eventually find the holes in the special security system, which would allow him a spare few minutes for rest.  He knew better than to try to sleep. The Savior needed him to always be available, so sleep was not an option.  She was always so disappointed when she found him sleeping at his computer.

He was considering slacking off again. That wouldn’t do, he did not want to tempt the Savior into another cleansing.  He would have to refresh and prove his devotion to the cause, of course. Checking that his algorithm was still tapping away at that traitor’s code, he reached out and grabbed the pen off of his mouse pad, and started to draw over the edges of the tattoo on his arm.

The edges had started fading from his showers, and especially where it rubbed against the inside of his jacket.  He pressed harder with the ballpoint pen than he probably needed to, but left behind a fresh, sharp line of black.  With each line, he reaffirmed his purpose. 

To serve the Savior. He lined the eye as if he were applying eyeliner, carefully and sharply marking the lashes and the iris. Someday, perhaps, he would find a pen with the correct color of ink, and fill the iris instead of simply lining it. A true mint eye.  Irrelevant for now, as he only had black ink to hand. His Savior saw all, and he enforced her will however she needed him to.  She was the Savior of Mint Eye, but she was his own personal savior as well, taking him from the hell that his brother had abandoned him to.  

To protect the paradise. The thistle, with its thorns hidden in beauty was one of his favorite parts of the motif he’d designed.  Beauty, unless you attempted to touch, and then all you were left with was pain and regret. He would protect Magenta with his life, and no regrets.

To save the believers from their harsh fate.  He lined the crown above the eye, representing the absolution and cleansing that the unwashed masses underwent to become believers under the Savior’s Mint Eye. Together, they would save everyone from the uncaring, unfeeling world.

To undermine the RFA. That ‘charity’ organization that lied to everyone just as bad as the rest of the world.  Claiming to help while only perpetuating the problem.  Unknown lined the stylized M - for Magenta, for Mint Eye.  For the naive MC who was even now sitting in the apartment chatting away and getting him information on the group.

To bring the traitor and the liar before The Savior for her judgment. They would eventually be cleansed until they, too, understood the beauty of paradise. The thorned moon with the thistle stem was usually hidden by his jacket, and tended to fade the fastest. It was the least important to the Savior and the Mint Eye, but it was the most important to him, and always the last thing he refreshed, to keep himself going despite everything.

In the middle of the last, the line stuttered and died.  Unknown threw the pen in the garbage bin under his desk, and looked back at the screens again.  Still nothing. His idiot twin was better at this than he seemed.

Unknown reached out and took a new pen out of the box in his desk drawer. Looks like he had more time to kill.

[cherubchoirs]

What if anything would be able to calm your version of V1 down? Like if V2 just greeted and hugged it when they first met vs attacking it on site would it calm down even a little bit or is it always running at 200%?

hello it's time to talk about v1's psychology!!!

oooooh a good question...my idea of v1 is really centered on two things that define its character, which are war and errors. v1 is an intrinsically hostile being, built purely to engage in combat and given only the bare minimum of social protocols in order to not be completely unmanageable by humans. its default state is conflict, it chooses violence as its primary course of interaction, and i think its ai has determined the world is in a perpetual state of war which leads it to constantly be "on" - that is, it presupposes every encounter will be hostile and responds accordingly (which is continually reinforced since it's in hell lol).

HOWEVER...v1 is also incredibly intelligent and riddled with errors at this point, leading it to engage in a lot of behavior that's unnecessary or unrelated to its goal of "war" - it enjoys exploration, it's curious and wants to learn (i love the idea that it likes reading, but it still has an algorithm that cuts it off if the information isn't "pertinent". it hates this) and most importantly, it's able to learn and modify its behavior to a certain extent. one of the reasons it tends to be so hyper aggressive is because it's running on the idea that it's constantly engaged, it is currently in a war, and because it's been left to iterate on its own in a mind that was never properly limited due to its project being cancelled, it's become animal-like in its pursuit of prey. but, if it can be convinced another being is approaching it peacefully, it CAN switch over to its curious nature rather than its conflict nature. due to the reinforcement i mentioned, this can be difficult - it will continue to assume hostility due to previous encounters and the general bad vibes in hell, but it's not beyond reasoning and settling down.

this quieting is admittedly fragile - its social modules are weak and it has to dedicate much more processing power to simple communication than to the most sophisticated battle strategies, yet i think in all its vast intelligence, it suffers from loneliness and isolation. it is acutely aware of what it’s doing, even in its revelry and the reward it experiences at its mass destruction, it understands entropy, collapse, and the finite resource that is its fuel. but it cannot be conservative. to be conservative is contrary to its nature, to its runaway war programming. so while it stares into an ever-growing abyss of its own making, while existential anxiety suffocates it further and further by its own hand, it never slows its wanton killing, a part of it continues to to be uncaring, to be proud, to laugh at the infinite loss of life it’s causing. it exists in both spaces constantly, errored mind and corroded code internally tearing it in two...but if it can just be persuaded the battle isn’t here, not right now, even if there is a war outside it doesn’t exist in this moment, that constant, exhausting loop can be suspended for a time and that’s how it calms down. it will still be destructive, it will still be too hard and too fast, but it can be talked to and it can learn to interface in gentler ways. and its intelligence, its sophisticated and ever expanding mind still with those little social protocols, wants to be able to do this, wants to hold onto something that it won’t break and lose forever.

and this is another part of its tragedy because it can’t really start that process. it must engage in combat, it will always choose to attack before anything else BUT if its enemy survives that encounter it can create a connection. and being able to survive it is key because v1 requires violence in its relationships, it will need to fight and spar to properly connect with another being in between quieter moments because brutality is its paradigm. it’s still not an easy process, it’s constantly leaning toward harm, it doesn’t fully comprehend its more sentimental emotions and when it does, it can consider them dangerously corrupted code and attempt to block them because its system flags it as a fatal error...but it can, in spite of all the software put in place to keep it solitary, connect with others due in large part to the “errors” it’s accumulated. of course i think about this a lot in the context of its relationship with gabriel as it learns to be gentle with him and to want to be gentle with him (like i mentioned in some tags, it likes climbing on him in part because that’s its way of getting his attention without violent means) but i really do think v1 and v2 could have worked together. they would have an inherent understanding of one another due to being built on the same firmware and similar hardware, plus i think v2 could intuitively understand why v1 acts as it does. they have major differences, such as v2 being much more socially oriented and v1′s mind being left uncompleted, but they had the capacity to connect even if they would likely always be at least competitive. it could have been tempered into a rivalry rather than on sight death matches, but with the world so broken, with communication and cooperation long forgotten, v2 engaged with it on v1′s terms, on the principles of war every being now operates on.

and since war is intrinsic to v1′s existence, it has a constant upper hand

[bosstoaster]

So, if I can ask, why Metal Gear? What's the appeal?

Well, nonny, this has a couple of reasons.

First, if you're aware of my previous writings: This game has a sad clone twin riddled by guilt and PTSD who is trying desperately to use the tools he was given by the circumstances of his birth to make the world a better place. And then it turns out part of the cloning process is killing him slowly. You might know I have feelings about that. In fact, my first MGS fic was literally my kinda-ish OC being thrown into the past to interact with post-series Snake to be like 'lol we already fixed this here you go' and just solving it.

Secondly, sad PTSD soldier man is walking competence porn and also raises a daughter with his nerd life partner and also physically cannot help himself from aiding people in need and also jumps in puddles and takes goofy pictures. Look. Look. I have a type, okay?

Thirdly, at first glance the series is an 80s action movie mixed with Tom Clancy style military fetishism. And... okay it's like 15% that. But the other 85% is a fierce anti-industrial-military-complex perspective. The main themes of the series are how the military breaks down and ruins people, the generational trauma that inflicts, and how to do good in a world run by uncaring suits and algorithms. It's also about how to find meaning in a world so full of suffering, and how to break through cycles of violence. How to be better than the way you were raised.

It also has villains who are guys in bomb suits on rollerskating drinking wine out of a bendy straw, or a dude who inexplicably controls wasps, or a shirtless old dude with a cowboy fetish.

Basically, MGS speaks to me on an aesthetic and interest level, but also it's a series that deeply, deeply rewards you for deeper thinking (except when it comes to deeper thinking about the portrayal of women and POC but ya know you win some you lose some)

Edit because I forgot to add: Also this series is gay as hell. And I don't mean it in a subtext way. There are multiple on screen bisexual characters, one out and out lesbian (mostly), and a gay man (who performs russian tuants)

[korolife]

Blog No.000🧺 24年4月5日

『KoroLife』 : (I wish for) A Colorful Life

in hindsight I probably should've started with this introduction but ah well

Hello! I go by Aki Shourikawa, also known as TheAwesomeAki-kun from DeviantArt. Ever since dA "died" in 2019, I felt like I lost a place where creativity and the fun aspects of making art was celebrated and utilized. With the character-limiting, trend-chasing, confusing censorshipping, popularity-prioritizing algorithms and systems most social media sites use, I lost an outlet for expressing my scattered thoughts and experiences throughout my art journey.

Even though talking to the void for not having a following was normal to me even from my dA days, it felt especially lonely the past few years trying to move everything and start anew to cold, uncaring websites who valued clicks more than integrity or ingenuity. So much so that I just felt like I shouldn't even try doing anything apart from quietly feeling inadequate and too incompetent for anyone else outside my own head.

Outside of being a creator, I can hardly find artists I'd like to follow as a viewer in these sites now compared to before; when all the recommended recommendations tend to be the hundred-thousand-eyeball-popular artists that usually ➀cater to a younger demographic for profit, or just ➁follow along with whatever is currently trending and mirror what other artists already made. Not that there's anything bad about understanding your market and making profit off of it! It's just... art, to me, has always been an escape from ridiculous societal standings, hierarchies, or denomination prejudices present in day-to-day lifeーEveryone is capable of drawing or making art, and that's something I've always liked about it. But even if bad apples with bad takes are probably just a minority to an otherwise wholesome majority of artists out there... the idea of transforming the creation of art into a pure competitive market, or even some kind of 'content' generator somehow leaves a bad taste in my mouth, personally.

I want to see more of artists who create their own art as a showcase of how they perceive the world in their unique sense and style, just because! But those types (especially ones without a following) seem to keep getting shadowbanned, stunted, and pushed away by unquenchable zombie algorithms that push and normalize this trend.

There's a lot of laughably bad things to say about DeviantArt's online reputation, but I found that a lot of like-minded lurkers were easier to find back then + genuinely interact with beyond one-word compliments and befriend over a common interest (art!) regardless of following size, skill level, or what have you...compared to how it is these days where it's a ridiculous..."looking for art moots, but I will be picky❤"-kinda world. It was probably because it was focused as an art website and not just a really broad scope of 'social media' site where everything non-art also goes down the hatch...that was the case for old dA, at least.

Now, enter Tumblr!ーa site that I've been extremely familiar with even before I started uploading my stuff online, even though I haven't used it myself mostly because of DRAMAtical Murder memes ngl- and while I understand it still contains most of the flaws I've listed of other social media websites... it's meant to be a blogging site! With multiple blogs for multiple different things! That'll work great for me!... with my category-varied 2.4k submissions on old dA...I think!!

So instead of moping around for halcyon days as I did the past 4 years or so now, through Tumblr's platform... I wanted to get back to being productive again and document an aspect of my life that I wish to be filled with different colors and flavors. Through this nonsensical ramblingy, longass tangent about not liking other social media sites in comparison to old dAーalreadyーI'm doing it now!!

I want to learn all sorts of things when it comes to drawing, so I want to share all the failed experiments, confusing experiences, and silly things that generally makes me a little happy when I'm drawing. Even though I'll probably still be talking to the void...I think even the void will appreciate having more than 280 characters to use without sounding like an incoherent, shattered fortune cookie prophecy.

And if somehow, somewhere, someone finds and reads through them.... I hope they can give some form of motivation, inspiration, entertainment, or a cautionary tale for your own artistic endeavors, maybe? like, underestimating your deadlines and procrastinating at the last day, then panic upon the realization that you should've started like a wholeass year ago to finish the task at hand, then proceed with praying to a god (of your choice) and cramming until the very last minute til you nearly break your hands! Me and my 7-, 11-, 14-, 19- and 23-year-old selves do not recommend this at all! Tune in next week for more wild experiences that will summon forth bombasticeth side-eyes!!-

See you around, and for now, I hope you have a nice day ahead! 'v')/

・・・ALL LINKS・・・

・Art Gallery・Commission Info・Ko-fi shop・

Main blog・Art blog・Non-chatterbox drawing process (KoroLite)

[writerblock-sucks]

( 🎬 ) ERA : FEARLESS !

Album Name : fearless

Album Release Date : may 2, 2022

Track(s) Promoted : fearless, blue flame, sour grapes

— 준비된 내 payback

Era Overview

felt like her wings were goin be clipped before she even got’em. was already having backlash from a pre debut scandal that made the netizens call for her to be kicked from the lineup, the company putting out warning and statements. however when bad opens the front door, good sneak through the window. fans ( now called fearnots ) and members made sure to support her through all the hate and insults, standing with her through everything.

Soundtrack (🎧)

the world is my oyster

fearless

blue flame

the great mermaid

sour grapes

Era Moodboard (🖼️)

Iconic Moments In This Era

during a performance of blue flame the confetti machine bugged out and blow during your stage, right when bao were center and singing. she got scared while singing and tripped hitting the floor HARD, she didn’t miss a note, and the members were able to think quick and included the fall in the dance without missing a beat. the fancam went viral calling bao professional and having unmatched skills, other called those uncaring after pictures of bao leaving the venue with a a big bruise on her knee and limping, while holding on to their manger

chaewon and kazuha were doing the ending fairy, and it was so goofy and cringe that bao ending up laughing so loud it was heard over the crowd cheering, the camera man point the camera to her and when she stop laughing, bao winked and blow a kiss to the camera, kpop twt and tt had a field day with the clip ( imagine bao giggling into her hand from behind kazuha and slowing losing it and rolling on the floor holding her gut, then getting to her knees and winking and blowing a kiss )

antis trending a hashtag #감자바오 or #투탄, with edited pictures to make her look bigger and mocking her natural skin tone. fearnots tried clearing and reporting the tag, but so many people were posting under it that it was hard to clean up. then randomly *wink wink* bao posted a few pictures on twt of her hair dark brown and her natural skintone say ‘the prettiest 🥔’ with the tag. skyrocketing it to the top trending and many fearnots started posting pre debut and certain pictures of bao natural skintone praising it, washing out all of the hate posted that got pushing back by the algorithm, and were taken quickly down

Photocard (📸)

2023 © writerblock-sucks

taglist - @smh-anon @leejungchans @lovely-sanie @alixnsuperstxr

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2023: #27

27. CYPRUS Andrew Lambrou - "Break a broken heart" 12th place

Decade ranking: 88/116 [Above Ochmann, below Amanda Tenfjord] Hang on, left side on the scoreboard? 😕 If you say so...

And it was on Wednesday 20 December 2023 that BorisBubbles faced one of his greatest challenges yet. Figure out interesting things to write about Andrew Lambrou. What a thoroughly uninteresting journey it has been for Cyprus. Arguably one of the MOST uninteresting since i started blogging actually.

Even finding moments to gif was a struggle.

So to prep for this write-up I did the following:

1) Looked at my preshow review for an entry point, but turns out I bailed almost immediately on Andrew back then as well <3

2) Accused ChatGPT of writing Break a Broken Heart. Then when it denied involvement, interrogated it about AI songwriting bots and and forced it to snitch on them. THEY EXIST and the EBU hasn't banned their use yet so welp 2024/2025 will be rancid, I guess.

3) Listened to Break A Broken Heart (and honestly, I almost forgot this step altogether. I really wish I was joking right now.)

And all gave me ZERO inspiration 😁 We knew what we were in for the second the teaser dropped. That song ("what song?" -- my friend André), that result, that staging, to a tee. We knew Andrew was specifically cast by Cyprus to grab a qual and be there. (unless you buy into the stupidity that somebody saw "Electrify" and thought "THAT GUY! THAT ONE! HE'S GONNA WIN EUROVISION FOR US!!"). So he did, uncared for by all except for a few youtube comment bots pretending to be fit women. Nothing beyond the basest "imagination" was used to make Andrew or his song engaging. Even during "Electrify" you could somewhat enjoy him for being a dimwitted but benevolent beta male. "Break a broken heart" is so devoid of flavour it could have been performed by a hologram and it would have made the exact same impact. It sapped Andrew of any personality and texture he could have had. Impressively bland from head to tail.

EVEN AT THIS STAGE, MONTHS AFTER THE CONTEST my most salient Andrew memory is the twitter gays fawning over him cuz you know, Hot Guy From Australia, only to IMMEDIATELY forget about him when Marco sauntered over the stage with a rainbow banner during the flag parade. I don't even care about Marco but lmfao. Where Marco was the true gay-coded himbot the cigarettes yearned for at a time of total Kenmania, Andrew felt like the Bangladeshi sweatshop equivalent, a cheaper alternative outclassed on every front.

That said, I don't even DISLIKE "Break a broken heart" or Andrew. Like, how could you muster up emotion for that. Besides, there are worse songs to listen to, esp at the 2023 contest, and I would not press skip if this song snuck into an algorithm-generated Eurovision Mix playlist. Though that might just be because I would barely notice it was on there in the first place. 😬

THE RANKING

[aflo]

i hazbinpost one time and this is the thanks i get

the tumblr algorithm is cruel and uncaring