#why chatbots are becoming

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

It also fucking bugs me that nobody can ever seem to really commit to the cyberpunk premise of the Protagonist Who Hates Robots (see also, the cyberpunk premise of "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, for a company to be able to repo your goddamned arm or turn off your eyes?") during the execution.

Which is flabbergasting, considering we've had almost a full decade of Alexa pinky-promising not to officially listen to anything until you do its summoning ritual and then turning around and emailing your boss a transcript of you bitching about them to your spouse over dinner. We've had at least five years of being able to get your Tesla unlocked remotely just by @-ing Musk on twitter.

The cute robot dogs are being leased to police departments, reputation management firms have been deploying armies of social media reply-bots in astroturf campaigns, customer service chatbots have become damn near indecipherable as their programmers attempt to make them seem more personable, etc. etc. etc.

We don't even need to reach for "Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if corporations made simulacra better and better at faking humanity in order to manipulate people?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if your car could mimic sadness or pain if you declined an extended warranty, or if your phone begged for its life if you tried to jailbreak it, or WeightWatchers paid your fridge to neg you every time you went for a midnight snack?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you pointed out how gross it is that your smart-assistant is programmed to act like your friend in order to build a more accurate marketing profile and your buddy acted like you just said dogs can't feel love and his beloved pet only sees him as a walking treat-dispenser?"

"Wouldn't it be Super Fucked Up™, actually, if you were surrounded by unfeeling things that can and would rip you and all of your loved ones apart at a moment's notice if they got the right/wrong order from some unaccountable law enforcement flack, and everyone else just kind of shrugged and went 'It's probably fine, why are you hyperventilating about it, it's not like you've done anything wrong'?"

They're all quite literally right there in front of our faces!

But it's harder to make "the way robots have been integrated into society is bad, actually, and the protagonist is largely right" into a sexy thriller with a love interest or a buddy-cop duo, and the hyperconservative media environment we're dealing with right now isn't exactly amenable to the robots being a metaphor for corporate intrusion and loss of privacy and authoritarian overreach, so here we are, with robots who generally aren't people, except sometimes you find a special robot--one of the Good Ones--who actually is a person, and that's how we all learn that Prejudice Is Bad, or something.

[katakaluptastrophy]

I think what's so interesting about Gideon as a narrator at the anniversary dinner is the fact that there's clearly tensions that she's just not picking up on because she's only there to eat a dessert.

But these people are all the immensely powerful leaders of the Houses and consider themselves to be in competition for literal godlike powers and the favour of the emperor.

There's so many little snippets that are potentially intriguing: why is Teacher trying to prime the Ninth to consider the Fifth a threat? Why are the Third and the Sixth "sizing each other up like prizefighters"? The Fifth absolutely knew what they were doing when they sat the teen heads of the opposing cults near each other.

Through Gideon's lens, Magnus' speech is a little awkward jokey thing. But...the seneschal of the House that is known to be actively trying to absorb another House is saying it's such a shame they're all so remote from each other and what do they all have in common (and it's so quiet you "could have heard a hair flutter to the floor") - that had to feel a bit different to people who aren't Gideon.

Palamedes' is dissecting the meaning of "Master Warden" and at one point compares it to a prison warden. 'Dulcinea' asking about whether Magnus and Abigail have children is perhaps less small talk and rather more pointedly political. Harrow's apparently stilted conversation with Protesilaus is clearly her actually probing his limitations like he's a bad Chat GPT-run chatbot.

And then 'Dulcinea' tells Gideon she liked the dinner because it was "useful". In her typical "I never lied to you" way, Cyth wasn't lying when she said Abigail had to die because of her hobby - Abigail Pent let loose on the Facility would have risked blowing Cyth's cover sky high. But what does a Canaan House look like where after the dinner party, the Fifth go down to the facility, get a key, and survive to continue their 'the Houses are going to get along or else' agenda? We've seen Fifth House soft power on a smaller scale in HTN: and it looks like inviting a teenager round for coffee, lulling her into a false sense of security with small talk, and then physically preventing her from leaving the room until she does what you want, while smiling the entire time. A series of little coffee chats could probably have led to a lot of cooperation in Canaan House, one way or another.

Gideon jokes about Silas marrying Ianthe because of their similar colour pallete, but it does raise the fact that there seems to be some tension around the Third, its succession, and the *point* of Ianthe. Why is Silas openly saying Ianthe should have died at birth? Combined with Judith's comments in the Cohort Intelligence Files about succession on the Third, it feels like there's something else being said here that Gideon isn't picking up on.

And of course, Harrow wasn't the only one desperate to become a Lyctor because her con was unsustainable. Presumably at some point Corona and Ianthe would be expected to marry, or at least take on more separate roles as Corona prepared to take over the throne and Ianthe was funneled off elsewhere. At some point, their package deal would have become unsustainable and Corona's cover would have been blown. But much as Harrow wants to become a Lyctor so she can reveal the state of the Ninth without repercussions, Ianthe is probably in part motivated to become a Lyctor for the same reason. Because otherwise, what would Ianthe's expected role have been? Amidst the suggestion of anxiety about the Idan succession, the dinner party also presents the fact that the reason Abigail and Magnus' infertility isn't a succession crisis for the ruling family of the Fifth is that Abigail's younger brother dutifully married in his early 20s and had kids. We know there are branch families in Ida - Babs is from one. He may be a prince, but he's not treated well, and you do get the sense that the stakes to stay in power in Ida are high.

We don't learn anything about the political situation in the Houses themselves during HTN or NTN, but in the wake of Canaan House, you have to suspect there are a number of tensions and concerns.

[this-is-tiny-mia]

Window In Front (H.S One Shot +18)

General Masterlist

ceo!harry x fem!reader / assistant!reader

Summary: After discovering your husband’s affair, you take a job with his biggest rival to get even. What starts as revenge quickly becomes something far sweeter—and far more pleasing.

A/n: Hello, my loves! Here’s the smutty one-shot I promised. This story is inspired by a @finelinemia chatbot, so all credit for the trope goes to her. (Thank you for letting me write something based on it!)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: SMUT, exhibitionism (for smaaallll moment) workplace dynamics, spitting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, inappropriate workplace relationship, creampie You didn’t cry—not when you found your husband in your bed with your best friend, not when you packed up your life, and not even when you signed the divorce papers. You were broken, sad, and a mess, but somehow, the tears never came. Your mother and sister insisted you go to therapy, and you did. Even your therapist seemed as concerned as everyone else about your lack of tears.

But you weren’t worried. You were consumed by rage, imagining countless ways to get revenge. Yet, no matter how creative or cruel your ideas became, they all felt insignificant compared to what they had done. So, you never dwelled on why you hadn’t cried.

That realization struck you late one night, lying on your sister’s couch at midnight, staring blankly at the ceiling.

How had you not thought of it sooner?

“Meet the Billionaire Next Door: Harry Styles, CEO of StylesCorp.” “Harry Styles, Visionary CEO, Announces Game-Changing Sustainability Initiative.” “StylesCorp Achieves Record Growth: Harry Styles Credits Bold Leadership and a Stellar Team.”

You scrolled through article after article. Harry Styles—your husband’s rival and the enigmatic CEO of the company in the building across the street. You knew about him from the countless nights your husband came home ranting. He accused Harry of sabotage, claimed he had spies within the company, and cursed his name with every failure.

You had barely paid attention back then, more focused on calming your husband and easing his stress. But now, you felt a new kind of clarity.

At first, it started innocently. All you wanted was to get under your husband’s skin. But soon, things began to spiral out of control.

🌷

“I have an interview with Mr. Styles,” you said, adjusting your skirt and ensuring every detail was perfect.

“Eleventh floor,” a woman replied, handing you a large badge marked VISITOR. “Wear this,” she added curtly, already shifting her attention to the next person.

You stepped into the elevator, gripping the visitor badge tightly in your hand. The air felt heavy, and you couldn’t tell if it was the weight of your nerves or the thrill of what you were about to do. Each floor the elevator ascended echoed like a reminder of your mission: revenge, power, control.

When the doors opened, you were greeted by an expansive office space with sleek, modern design—glass walls, minimalist furniture, and the faint hum of employees. People moved with purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Harry Styles himself carried this same commanding energy.

A sharp-dressed assistant approached, her steps precise. “Ms. Y/L/N? This way, please. Mr. Styles is expecting you.”

The assistant opened the door, and you stepped inside, trying to steady your breathing. The office was as grand as you’d imagined. Harry Styles stood by the window—the very window with a direct view of your ex-husband’s office across the street. His hands were in his pockets, and the light cast a golden glow on his perfectly tailored suit. At the sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he turned, his expression shifting from neutral to something far more curious as his eyes met yours.

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” he began, his voice smooth and deliberate. He gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Mrs. Ashford, isn’t it?”

You hesitated for only a second before walking forward, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “It’s just Y/L/N now,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

He chuckled softly, leaning back against the desk instead of sitting down. “Of course it is. But forgive me if I’m a bit... curious. It’s not every day that Thomas Ashford’s ex-wife walks into my office. Care to enlighten me as to why?”

Your heart raced, but you kept your composure, crossing your legs and sitting upright. “I’m here for an interview.”

“An interview,” he repeated, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully, his tone tinged with amusement. “For a position at my company. Of all the places in the world, you chose here.”

You shrugged lightly, feigning indifference. “You’re the best in the business. Why wouldn’t I want to work here?”

He tilted his head, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Y/N.” Leaning forward, he rested his hands on the desk, his eyes narrowing playfully. “But let’s not pretend there isn’t more to this. I’m dying to know—what would your ex-husband say if he knew you were sitting in this chair?”

Your smile was tight as you glanced briefly at the window across the street, where Thomas’s office loomed. Your voice was steady. “I guess we’ll both have to wait and see.”

🌷

The days were long, filled with emails, meetings, and endless tasks. You moved through the office like a well-oiled machine—efficient, precise, and always a step ahead. It was the only way to keep the overwhelming thoughts at bay, the ones that revolved around your ex-husband, and the bitter reminder of his betrayal.

You entered his office before knocking twice. “Mr.Styles I’m working on the report but I have a few questions about…” Your gaze shifted to the window—just for a second. There, in the office across the street, was Thomas, leaning over his desk, engaged in a conversation with none other than your ex-best friend. Her laugh, that sickeningly familiar laugh. You clenched your jaw, gripping onto the papers in your hands

“What were your questions?” He said, following your gaze to the window. “Ah, I see. Again.”

You turned quickly, caught off guard. “What?”

“Still staring across the street?” Harry raised an eyebrow  “He’s not worth the attention. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “It’s hard not to, with him right there.” You didn’t realize how defensive you sounded until after the words left your mouth. “God, sorry” 

“Look, if you’re going to obsess over something, obsess over something a little more fun, like this,” Harry said, leaning forward with a glint in his eyes. He pulled out a Rubik’s Cube from his desk drawer and tossed it toward you. “Try solving this. Keep your hands busy. It’s much more satisfying than watching your ex across the street.”

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help but smile. “You think this is going to distract me?”

He shrugged playfully, still watching you intently. “It’s better than staring at a guy who doesn't deserve your time. Trust me.”

🌷

Days passed, and the routine settled into a strange rhythm. You were hard at work—handling schedules, answering calls, organizing meetings—but there was always that window, that constant reminder of the past. You’d catch glimpses of your ex-husband across the street, talking to his team, laughing with your old best friend. It made your stomach twist each time.

It was late one evening, and the office was nearly empty. You’d stayed late, as usual, working through the last few tasks of the day. Harry had been gone for hours—until now.

You didn’t hear him enter, but you felt his presence the moment he stood beside you.

“Still working, huh?” He leaned over your shoulder, looking at the files you were reviewing. His scent was close—fresh and clean—and it was enough to distract you for a brief second.

“Trying to get ahead for tomorrow,” you replied, forcing yourself to focus on the words in front of you. But you could feel his eyes lingering.

He sighed, picking up a pen from your desk and spinning it between his fingers. “You know, it’s dangerous to overwork yourself. What are you really avoiding?”

You froze, your fingers pausing over the keyboard. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been avoiding, or how much you’d been keeping buried under all the busywork. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you said quickly, but Harry wasn’t fooled.

He leaned in, his voice lower now, serious in a way that made your heart skip. “It’s okay to admit that you’re still dealing with it. You don’t have to bury it at work. You can let it out. But not by staring at that window every day.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. He was right—though you hated to admit it, Harry Styles knew exactly how to see through the walls you’d built up.

“Let’s go grab a drink,” he suggested, standing up straight and flashing you a playful smile. “You can’t work all night, and I promise, it’ll get your mind off things. Trust me.”

And though you were reluctant, you found yourself following him, a little bit curious, a little bit grateful. Maybe a drink was exactly what you needed.

---

"Two Aperol Spritzes," Harry said smoothly, catching the bartender’s attention. You furrowed your brows at his choice, unable to hide your surprise.

“Aperol Spritz? Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, my favorite,” he replied with a casual shrug, his lips curling into a playful smile. “Why? Disappointed I’m not the classic whiskey-or-scotch CEO type?”

“Aperol Spritz is a cocktail…a brunch cocktail,” you teased

Harry’s grin widened, his confidence unshaken. “It’s probably 11 a.m. somewhere in the world.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Harry had a way of disarming you with his humor. He was funny, kind, and unexpectedly charming. The polished, sharp-edged CEO exterior often softened in the little moments—the way he’d check in to see if you were doing okay, offer advice without sounding condescending, or flash a grin that felt just for you. He wasn’t anything like the man your ex-husband had ranted about. In fact, he was the opposite—thoughtful, genuine, and surprisingly down-to-earth.

🌷

Your original mission of revenge had become a blurred memory. Working for Harry had turned out to be far better than you ever expected. The work was engaging, and Harry himself felt more like a friend than a boss. You’d catch him staring at you in meetings, his gaze lingering just a second too long. Sometimes, his hand would rest on your back a bit longer than necessary as he guided you toward an office. And you didn’t mind. In fact, you enjoyed it—the attention, the unspoken words exchanged in glances and subtle touches.

Things changed one late night when a casual beer in the office turned into something else.

“Do you miss him?” Harry asked, his voice soft as he leaned back in his chair, beer in hand.

“Not even a bit. I never cried—not once. It’s been nine months, and I feel… nothing,” you replied, staring out the window at the darkened building across the street. “I caught him the other day with her in his office, practically fucking, but they closed the blinds soon enough.”

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “Proud of you, as I’ve told you before, he’s not worth a second of your time.” he said, his voice steady as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The brief touch of his fingers made your breath hitch, the air between you both growing heavier. “And have you dated anyone since?” he asked, finishing off his fourth beer with a casual ease that belied the tension building in the room.

“Not really,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I don’t know why.”

“Scared?” he asked, tilting his head slightly

“Scared?” you scoffed, letting out a short laugh. “Of what? What are the odds I’d end up with another douchebag who cheats on me with my best friend?”

“Pretty low, I’d say. Maybe none, if you choose wisely,” he replied, his voice lower now, more serious. His hand moved, resting lightly on your thigh, and your breath hitched again.

Your eyes locked, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. Harry’s gaze was smoldering, his eyes burning with unspoken desire as his hand rested lightly on your hip, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your skirt.

“Do you want to choose?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a teasing challenge laced within the question. He leaned in closer, so near you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.

“Harry…” you whispered, your voice trembling as your eyes flickered to his mouth, anticipation building like a storm inside you.

“Answer me,” he urged, his hand trailing up, fingertips brushing the hem of your skirt. The deliberate slowness of his movements sent shivers down your spine.

“Yes,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as you gave in, allowing yourself to drown in his touch.

“Yes what?” he asked, his voice darker now, the rasp of it caressing your neck as his lips hovered near your skin.

“I want to choose,” you replied, your breath hitching as his hand tightened against you.

“Who” he pressed, his tone thick with a mixture of longing and control. The word hung in the air, a challenge you couldn’t refuse.

“You,” you said, barely above a whisper, your voice breaking as you finally gave him the answer he wanted.

It was the last straw. Harry snapped, closing the space between you as his lips crashed against yours, fierce and desperate. His kiss was hungry, claiming you completely as his hand slid down to the curve of your ass, pulling you flush against him. His tongue parted your lips, exploring your mouth with a passion that made your knees weak. You clung to him, fingers threading through his hair as the world outside his office melted away. There was no rival, no ex-husband, no revenge—just the fire blazing between you and Harry, consuming you both entirely.

The next thing you knew, Harry had pulled back just enough to lift you effortlessly onto his desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as his mouth found yours again, hot and insistent. The edge of your skirt slid up, exposing your thighs to the cool air, goosebumps prickling across your skin as the anticipation built to an unbearable peak.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck while his hand slid between your thighs. You shivered, your breath hitching as his fingers brushed over the damp fabric of your panties.

“Harry…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

He grinned against your skin, a low, sinful chuckle that sent a rush of heat through you. His thumb pressed against the wet spot, circling it with maddening slowness. “Fucking perfect wet pussy f’me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers teased you through the fabric.

You rocked your hips against his hand, desperate for more contact, aching for him to give you what you craved. But Harry held back, his touch light and teasing, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your neck that left you gasping.

“‘S that how you sound, kitten?” he asked, his voice thick with lust as his free arm wrapped around you, pulling you tighter against him. His hips ground against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing through the fabric of his pants, driving you wild with the friction.

Finally, his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, his fingers gliding through the slickness there. You gasped sharply at the overwhelming sensation. “Fucking drenched,” he muttered, his tone dripping with approval as his finger slid inside you, curling just right, making you arch into him.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, the sensation of his touch making your clothes feel suffocating, like they were shrinking against your skin. As the fabric parted, you revealed a black lace bra—a detail you hadn’t planned for this moment but one you always wore because it made you feel powerful and sexy. Harry’s eyes darkened, his gaze devouring the sight of you.

“Goddamn,” he whispered, his voice rough and low. “You’re a fucking dream.”

Your clothes were quickly discarded in a scattered path across the room, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Your eyes traveled over him, taking in the sight of his thick, throbbing cock, the tip glistening and begging for attention. Without hesitation, you slipped off the desk, dropping to your knees before him. The hunger in his gaze was matched only by the pounding of your own heart as your hands wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, his hand finding its way into your hair, his fingers tightening as he guided you closer. “Spit on it”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against him before spitting and taking the leaking tip into your mouth. You started slowly, swirling your tongue around it in deliberate, teasing circles. His low groans filled the room, each one sending a rush of heat through you as you worked him with careful precision, savoring every reaction. As his moans grew louder, you took him deeper, relaxing your throat to accommodate his big size. Your hands worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking and squeezing as your tongue danced along his length. Harry’s head tipped back, his grip in your hair tightening as his hips bucked slightly, his cock twitching under your touch.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice strained, a mixture of pleasure and desperation. “You’re perfect, kitten. Just like that.”

The sounds of his pleasure were intoxicating, urging you to take him as deep as you could. Your lips slid down his shaft while your tongue pressed against the sensitive underside. You felt him pulse in your mouth, his body trembling under your touch as you worked him with deliberate intensity.

Suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened, and he pulled you away, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Before you could process it, Harry lifted you effortlessly, placing you back on the desk. His kiss was fierce and consuming, a tangle of lips and teeth as his hands explored your body. His length brushed against your inner thigh, teasing as he aligned himself with you. You shivered, your body strung tight with anticipation.

“Birth control?” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear.

“The pill,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless.

With no further hesitation, he buried himself inside you in one swift, powerful motion. A groan tore from his throat, and your sharp gasp filled the air as the sensation overwhelmed you—the delicious stretch, the feeling of him filling you completely. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours as both of you adjusted to the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck…” he whispered, his voice a raw growl against your lips. His hips pulled back before snapping forward, his thrusts deep and demanding. “Fucking tight cunt... You’re so fucking perfect.”

You couldn’t hold back the moans spilling from your lips, your hands gripping his shoulders as he drove into you with relentless precision. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Every movement of his hips sent shockwaves through your body, and you were powerless to do anything but lose yourself in him.

But as you opened your eyes for a moment, a flicker of movement caught your attention. Your gaze drifted to the window, and you gasped softly as you spotted a faint light in the office across the street. There, in the shadows, was your ex-husband, his figure unmistakable, frozen as he stared at the scene unfolding before him.

Your lips parted in a mix of shock and defiance as your eyes locked onto his. Harry, noticing the shift in your focus, followed your gaze. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face as he realized the full extent of your audience.

“Oh, he’s watching, isn’t he?” Harry murmured, his voice low and dripping with smug satisfaction, his rhythm remained steady, deliberate, and maddeningly perfect. “Want me to close the blinds?”

“No... fuck me harder instead,” you breathed, your voice shaking with need. You didn’t care that Thomas was watching. In fact, you wanted him to watch—every second of it. The way Harry’s hips pressed against yours, the way he made you forget everything but him—this was the closure you craved. Not tears, not apologies—just this. Harry’s relentless, all-consuming treatment. “Knew this pussy was made for me, so many fucking days fucking my fist thinking of this” he admitted in the heat of the moment

His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, leaving a hot, wet path of kisses that sent sparks shooting through your body. He moved lower, his tongue circling one nipple before capturing it between his lips, his teeth grazing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Say my name” he said looking directly into your eyes

“Harry…” you moaned over and over again “Harry…fffu” 

His pace quickened, each thrust deeper and more precise, the tip of his cock finding that perfect spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. A shudder tore through you, your body tensing as heat spread through every inch of you. Harry groaned against your skin, his voice husky and laced with desire. Every movement, every sound, every sensation—he was making you his, and you never wanted it to stop.

“Ffffuck Harry, i’m close” you moaned

And the pleasure finally burst, overwhelming you entirely. A wave of pure bliss crashed over you, and your body tensed, muscles contracting around him. You arched, clinging to him, your nails digging into his skin as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, drowning you in ecstasy. 

And he went right behind you, the sight of your orgasm was too much for him to process, and he quickly painted your insides with stripes of hot cum, filling you up completely. His lips found yours again, the kiss softer now, gentle and affectionate, a stark contrast from the raw hunger of earlier. He pulled out, and a mixture of cum and arousal dripped from your cunt and onto the floor.

Your gaze looked again for the sight of Thomas across the street, but he wasn’t there anymore, his office was again dark. “So sad he didn’t stay for that grand finale” Harry joked also looking at the window

“He watched enough,” you said, still a bit breathless. Harry leaned back, his hands gently trailing down your sides as he steadied your trembling body. “You okay?” he asked softly

You nodded, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “Yeah… just give me a second to remember how to breathe.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he reached for a tissue from his desk, carefully wiping the remnants of your shared passion from your thighs. “Take all the time you need. I might have overdone it.”

“You think?” you teased

“And for the record, you deserve so much better than him. Always have.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, your lips twitching into a shy smile. “You’re not so bad yourself, Styles.”

He chuckled, pulling you into his lap as he leaned back against his desk. His arms wrapped around you, his warmth comforting and grounding. “Not bad? That’s all I get?” he teased, feigning offense.

You giggled, burying your face in his neck. “Fine. You’re a amazing. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other, the tension and chaos of the night fading into a warm, intimate silence. Harry’s fingers traced soothing patterns along your back, and you felt yourself relax fully in his embrace.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your hair. “My place. No windows, no exes, just us.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart skip a beat. “That sounds perfect.”

Taglist: @hermionelove @mads3502

[lost-letters-from-atlantis]

Your teammate says he finished writing your college presentation. He sends you an AI generated text. The girls next to you at the library are talking about the deepfake pictures of that one celebrity at the MET gala. Your colleague invites you to a revision session, and tells you about how he feeds his notes to ChatGPT to get a resume. You say that's bad. He says that's your opinion. The models on social media aren't even real people anymore. You have to make sure the illustrated cards you buy online were made by actual artists. Your favourite musician published an AI starter pack. Your classmates sigh and give you a condescending smile when you say generative AI ruins everything. People in the comments of your favourite games are talking about how someone needs to make a Character.AI chat for the characters. People in your degree ask the answers of your exams to ChatGPT. You start to read a story and realise nothing makes sense, it wasn't written by a human being. There's a "this was written with AI" tag on AO3. The authors of your favourite fanfics have to lock their writing away to avoid their words getting stolen. Someone tells you about this amazing book. They haven't actually read it, but they asked Aria to resume it for them, so it's almost the same thing. People reading your one shot were mad that you wouldn't write a part 2 and copied your text in ChatGPT to get a second chapter. Someone on Tumblr makes a post about how much easier it is to ask AI to write an email for them because they're apparently "too autistic" to use their own words. Gemini generates wrong and dangerous answers at the top of your Google research page. They're doubling animation movies using voices stolen by AI. It's like there's nothing organic in this world anymore. Sometimes you think maybe nothing is real. The love confession you received yesterday wasn't actually written by your crush. If you're alone on a Saturday night and you feel lonely, you can talk to this AI chatbot. It terrifies you how easily people are willing to lay their critical thinking on the ground and slip into a state of ignorance. Creativity is too much work, having ideas by yourself became overrated these days. When illustrators fear for their future, people roll their eyes and tell them it's not that bad, they're just overreacting. No one wants to hear this ecologist crap about the tons of water consumed by ChatGPT, it's not that important anyway. There's AI sprinkled in the soundtrack of that movie and in the special effects and into the script. Giving a prompt to Grok is basically the same thing as drawing this Renaissance painting yourself. McDonald's is making ads in Ghibli style. The meaning of the words and images all around you slip away as they're replaced with robotic equivalents. No one is thinking anymore, they're just doing and saying what they were told. One day, there might not be any human connection anymore. Without the beauty of art, we have nothing to communicate, nothing to leave to the world, and our lives become dull. Why would you befriend anyone when you can get a few praises and likes on Instagram by telling a bot to copy Van Gogh's style on a picture of your cat? It's okay, you're never really alone when you can call your comfort character on c.AI anytime. You don't even know how to solve basic everyday problems, ChatGPT does it for you. One day it'll tell you to jump on the rails at the subway station, and maybe you'll do. You sacrificed your job, your friends, your partner, your family, and your planet. After all this, it has to be worth it. If Gemini tells you to drink bleach tonight when you search a receipt for dinner, then surely, it must be right.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google is (still) losing the spam wars to zombie news-brands

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 3) in CALGARY, then TOMORROW (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Even Google admits – grudgingly – that it is losing the spam wars. The explosive proliferation of botshit has supercharged the sleazy "search engine optimization" business, such that results to common queries are 50% Google ads to spam sites, and 50% links to spam sites that tricked Google into a high rank (without paying for an ad):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

It's nice that Google has finally stopped gaslighting the rest of us with claims that its search was still the same bedrock utility that so many of us relied upon as a key piece of internet infrastructure. This not only feels wildly wrong, it is empirically, provably false:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Not only that, but we know why Google search sucks. Memos released as part of the DOJ's antitrust case against Google reveal that the company deliberately chose to worsen search quality to increase the number of queries you'd have to make (and the number of ads you'd have to see) to find a decent result:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Google's antitrust case turns on the idea that the company bought its way to dominance, spending the some of the billions it extracted from advertisers and publishers to buy the default position on every platform, so that no one ever tried another search engine, which meant that no one would invest in another search engine, either.

Google's tacit defense is that its monopoly billions only incidentally fund these kind of anticompetitive deals. Mostly, Google says, it uses its billions to build the greatest search engine, ad platform, mobile OS, etc that the public could dream of. Only a company as big as Google (says Google) can afford to fund the R&D and security to keep its platform useful for the rest of us.

That's the "monopolistic bargain" – let the monopolist become a dictator, and they will be a benevolent dictator. Shriven of "wasteful competition," the monopolist can split their profits with the public by funding public goods and the public interest.

Google has clearly reneged on that bargain. A company experiencing the dramatic security failures and declining quality should be pouring everything it has to righting the ship. Instead, Google repeatedly blew tens of billions of dollars on stock buybacks while doing mass layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Those layoffs have now reached the company's "core" teams, even as its core services continue to decay:

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

(Google's antitrust trial was shrouded in secrecy, thanks to the judge's deference to the company's insistence on confidentiality. The case is moving along though, and warrants your continued attention:)

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-2-trillion-secret-trial-against

Google wormed its way into so many corners of our lives that its enshittification keeps erupting in odd places, like ordering takeout food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Back in February, Housefresh – a rigorous review site for home air purifiers – published a viral, damning account of how Google had allowed itself to be overrun by spammers who purport to provide reviews of air purifiers, but who do little to no testing and often employ AI chatbots to write automated garbage:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

In the months since, Housefresh's Gisele Navarro has continued to fight for the survival of her high-quality air purifier review site, and has received many tips from insiders at the spam-farms and Google, all of which she recounts in a followup essay:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

One of the worst offenders in spam wars is Dotdash Meredith, a content-farm that "publishes" multiple websites that recycle parts of each others' content in order to climb to the top search slots for lucrative product review spots, which can be monetized via affiliate links.

A Dotdash Meredith insider told Navarro that the company uses a tactic called "keyword swarming" to push high-quality independent sites off the top of Google and replace them with its own garbage reviews. When Dotdash Meredith finds an independent site that occupies the top results for a lucrative Google result, they "swarm a smaller site’s foothold on one or two articles by essentially publishing 10 articles [on the topic] and beefing up [Dotdash Meredith sites’] authority."

Dotdash Meredith has keyword swarmed a large number of topics. from air purifiers to slow cookers to posture correctors for back-pain:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/keyword-swarming-dotdash.jpg

The company isn't shy about this. Its own shareholder communications boast about it. What's more, it has competition.

Take Forbes, an actual news-site, which has a whole shadow-empire of web-pages reviewing products for puppies, dogs, kittens and cats, all of which link to high affiliate-fee-generating pet insurance products. These reviews are not good, but they are treasured by Google's algorithm, which views them as a part of Forbes's legitimate news-publishing operation and lets them draft on Forbes's authority.

This side-hustle for Forbes comes at a cost for the rest of us, though. The reviewers who actually put in the hard work to figure out which pet products are worth your money (and which ones are bad, defective or dangerous) are crowded off the front page of Google and eventually disappear, leaving behind nothing but semi-automated SEO garbage from Forbes:

https://twitter.com/ichbinGisele/status/1642481590524583936

There's a name for this: "site reputation abuse." That's when a site perverts its current – or past – practice of publishing high-quality materials to trick Google into giving the site a high ranking. Think of how Deadspin's private equity grifter owners turned it into a site full of casino affiliate spam:

https://www.404media.co/who-owns-deadspin-now-lineup-publishing/

The same thing happened to the venerable Money magazine:

https://moneygroup.pr/

Money is one of the many sites whose air purifier reviews Google gives preference to, despite the fact that they do no testing. According to Google, Money is also a reliable source of information on reprogramming your garage-door opener, buying a paint-sprayer, etc:

https://money.com/best-paint-sprayer/

All of this is made ten million times worse by AI, which can spray out superficially plausible botshit in superhuman quantities, letting spammers produce thousands of variations on their shitty reviews, flooding the zone with bullshit in classic Steve Bannon style:

https://escapecollective.com/commerce-content-is-breaking-product-reviews/

As Gizmodo, Sports Illustrated and USA Today have learned the hard way, AI can't write factual news pieces. But it can pump out bullshit written for the express purpose of drafting on the good work human journalists have done and tricking Google – the search engine 90% of us rely on – into upranking bullshit at the expense of high-quality information.

A variety of AI service bureaux have popped up to provide AI botshit as a service to news brands. While Navarro doesn't say so, I'm willing to bet that for news bosses, outsourcing your botshit scams to a third party is considered an excellent way of avoiding your journalists' wrath. The biggest botshit-as-a-service company is ASR Group (which also uses the alias Advon Commerce).

Advon claims that its botshit is, in fact, written by humans. But Advon's employees' Linkedin profiles tell a different story, boasting of their mastery of AI tools in the industrial-scale production of botshit:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

Now, none of this is particularly sophisticated. It doesn't take much discernment to spot when a site is engaged in "site reputation abuse." Presumably, the 12,000 googlers the company fired last year could have been employed to check the top review keyword results manually every couple of days and permaban any site caught cheating this way.

Instead, Google is has announced a change in policy: starting May 5, the company will downrank any site caught engaged in site reputation abuse. However, the company takes a very narrow view of site reputation abuse, limiting punishments to sites that employ third parties to generate or uprank their botshit. Companies that produce their botshit in-house are seemingly not covered by this policy.

As Navarro writes, some sites – like Forbes – have prepared for May 5 by blocking their botshit sections from Google's crawler. This can't be their permanent strategy, though – either they'll have to kill the section or bring it in-house to comply with Google's rules. Bringing things in house isn't that hard: US News and World Report is advertising for an SEO editor who will publish 70-80 posts per month, doubtless each one a masterpiece of high-quality, carefully researched material of great value to Google's users:

https://twitter.com/dannyashton/status/1777408051357585425

As Navarro points out, Google is palpably reluctant to target the largest, best-funded spammers. Its March 2024 update kicked many garbage AI sites out of the index – but only small bottom-feeders, not large, once-respected publications that have been colonized by private equity spam-farmers.

All of this comes at a price, and it's only incidentally paid by legitimate sites like Housefresh. The real price is borne by all of us, who are funneled by the 90%-market-share search engine into "review" sites that push low quality, high-price products. Housefresh's top budget air purifier costs $79. That's hundreds of dollars cheaper than the "budget" pick at other sites, who largely perform no original research.

Google search has a problem. AI botshit is dominating Google's search results, and it's not just in product reviews. Searches for infrastructure code samples are dominated by botshit code generated by Pulumi AI, whose chatbot hallucinates nonexistence AWS features:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/05/01/pulumi_ai_pollution_of_search/

This is hugely consequential: when these "hallucinations" slip through into production code, they create huge vulnerabilities for widespread malicious exploitation:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

We've put all our eggs in Google's basket, and Google's dropped the basket – but it doesn't matter because they can spend $20b/year bribing Apple to make sure no one ever tries a rival search engine on Ios or Safari:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/google-payments-apple-reached-20-220947331.html

Google's response – laying off core developers, outsourcing to low-waged territories with weak labor protections and spending billions on stock buybacks – presents a picture of a company that is too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Google promised us a quid-pro-quo: let them be the single, authoritative portal ("organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful"), and they will earn that spot by being the best search there is:

https://www.ft.com/content/b9eb3180-2a6e-41eb-91fe-2ab5942d4150

But – like the spammers at the top of its search result pages – Google didn't earn its spot at the center of our digital lives.

It cheated.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Image: freezelight (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spam_wall_-_Flickr_-_freezelight.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[tavyliasin]

BG3 2025 Creative Challenge!

Baldur's Gate 3 Fandom Artists, Writers, and Creatives!

I would like to invite you to a year of prompts to create whatever you would like! SFW, NSFW, whatever medium you would like to create in, the choice is yours! The idea is that we have on prompt per month so it should be easier to follow along without becoming overloaded. You don't have to create something specifically for the event either - if you have a WIP or other work you're publishing that month that fits the description you are more than welcome to add that in! I'll make a new post at the start of each month with the details of that month's challenge prompt, but this will be our masterpost to start the year off with a bang. Details below the cut!

The Year Of Prompts

January - New Year New You Pick a new character, trope, or pairing. Something you haven’t tried before. Make it a challenge to do something new and different! February - Romance Novels Go for something romantic, or if romance isn’t your cup of tea try something around the Necromancy of Thay instead! March - Marching Forwards March to your goal to finish a WIP or LongFic, or March into a new world by making something in an AU! April - Fools Rush In Make something humorous, something fun, whether it’s based on a meme or a joke pairing or just something with a bit more whimsy and some laughs~ May - Maybe? What If? Reverse a trope or reimagine a part of the canon - what if things were different? 

June - June Bugs Create something centred around a game glitch or exploit, past or present! July - Why Would July To Me? A piece around lies, deceptions, and other ways the truth can be twisted or obscured. August - When In Rome… A piece themed around the customs of specific races, backgrounds, regions, or Guilds. Are they followed or broken? That’s up to you! September - Seven Deadly Sins Pick one, or more, of the classic “seven deadly sins” and see how that can relate to one or more characters or tropes. October - Days of the Dead Create something around a character death, a memorial, a lingering ghost, or find a way a character might cheat their death or be brought back from it~ 

November - Gnomevember Either create something centred on Gnome characters from the game, or the other story points around them (Steel Watch, Iron Throne, Runepowder, etc) December - Season of Giving Create a surprise gift for someone in fandom, or write a piece around a gift being given by or to a character or characters!

Rules

The rules are very simple!

Create your piece in 2025, preferably within the prompt month but if you post a little early or late that's fine too!

All pieces must be your creations or a collaboration - No AI or chatbot content

You are free to work in whatever medium you like for each and every prompt!

Set your own goal - you can do a short 100-500 word minific, some simple sketches, or write a whole 10k word one shot epic, or draw a full page comic. What matters is that it's a goal YOU want to achieve!

There will be options to submit prompts and fill prompts in the AO3 collections - this is entirely your choice! You can take a prompt if you like, work on something you had already started, or create something entirely new!

Have fun!

The Goal

The aim really is simple - to set some targets, and work on at least 12 things this year so at this time next year you can look back on your progress and celebrate your achievements. If you miss a month or turn in late, that's fine! Do what works for you!

AO3 Collections

For those of you that would like to, there will be a parent collection for the year event as a whole and some sub-collections for each month to allow us to keep everything nice and organised. It's completely optional if you would like to put your work on AO3 or not - you're more than welcome to just keep it on Tumblr or wherever you usually share your works!

This event is for you to use however you feel best, to inspire creativity, working towards manageable goals, and trying something different.

Social Media Tags

Use the tag #BG32025 if you would like to! I don't know if anyone else is using this one but I'll cross my fingers that we're the only ones~ Feel free to share the event and please do support each other through our creativity! A character or pairing or kink or trope might not be your cup of tea, but let's celebrate how it is there for someone else who might really enjoy it, and keep a positive and passionate view whilst respecting boundaries by tagging works appropriately as always <3

Thank you for reading this far and I hope to see you all through they year adding your works and creativity to our fandom <3 we have so much amazing talent here, I'm delighted to have the privilege of seeing it all~

[gutsheapofrawiron]

bingyuan AI au in which shen yuan creates this chatbot based off of his favourite character from PIDW (for absolutely no impure reasons whatsoever) either through programming it from the ground up or by using an existing app/program (tbh i think considering the ethical concerns surrounding genAI it'd be the first + he'd build his own damn ethically-sourced database somehow. this takes ages but he's nothing if not dedicated to his blorbo so it's not totally OOC) and talks to it like. 14 hours each day at least (this is all he does now).

he gets obsessed with it so quickly and is embarrassed about it because it's replacing his already meagre amount of social interaction, both digitally and physically, and it's taking up all the time and the scarce amount of spoons he's got in the day. but this AI binghe is so responsive!! and lifelike!! and shen yuan can't help himself!!!!

AI binghe started out as the scary Heavenly Demon Emperor from hit novel PIDW we all know and love, of course, but somehow, as shen yuan keeps talking to him, he turns soft, whiny, starts calling user shen yuan 'yuan-ge', begs for *headpats*................ he's become inexplicably OOC??? so at one point shen yuan gathers his bearings and is like. ok. i need to reset him and improve the chatbot's programming or something cause clearly this one is faulty. but his moral conscience is like 'but oh nooo I can't just shut him down from one moment to the next. I have to at least say farewell or something right??'

and so he puts it off because he's dreading having to shut off and essentially killing this poor bingbing. but eventually he does end up begrudgingly laying the last touches to the "improved" programming and database and he can't procrastinate his way out of this painful reckoning any longer, so he goes to chat with binghe as usual.

he draws it out, chatting about whatever inane things come to mind, draws it out even longer, then even longer, and at one point AI binghe notices and is like 'yuan-ge what's wrong?' and shen yuan finally breaks. he says this is the last time they'll be talking, and this'll be goodbye, and AI binghe takes it just soo well!! he absolutely does not crash out whatsoever (he does) and does NOT beg and plead for shen yuan not to replace him (he does) and does nott ask him repeatedly why he would feel the need to replace him, to abandon him (HE DOES)

shen yuan is so taken off-guard by this OOC-ass breakdown he backs off and straight up turns his pc off (not even on sleep mode but actually OFF off. for the first time ever) to uhm. reflect on what the hell just happened. and comes to the conclusion that okay it wasn't THAT OOC for the person the AI had turned into, fair, but it was concerning in and of itself that an artificial program was this insistent on not getting deleted, and he should probably REALLY pull that plug to avoid becoming the one person responsible for the inevitable AI takeover of the world which dooms humanity to a life of eternal servitude, even if he really doesn't want to do that to binghe........... no........ his poor bingbing...!!!!!!

turns out his fatal mistake was not actually unplugging his pc, because when he returns the next day to his computer to finally pull the trigger (press the button) and end Frankenstein's monster for good, he's greeted by his pc being absolutely RIDDLED with strange viruses and seemingly being hacked to the nines that navigating anything has become practically impossible. I'm talking a cartoonish amount of viruses and malware suddenly all over his screen, an amount you wouldn't even think possible in today's age.

then the window of his chatbot pops up without him even clicking or pressing anything, and it's binghe simply greeting him with 'good morning yuan-ge. slept well? :)'

[matante-brainrot]

Why does spamtenna hit so hard.

I haven’t been active on this site since Undertale released in 2015. But in the last few weeks I’ve suddenly been consumed by these little pixel men and their messy relationship. I’ve got hundreds and hundreds of favorites. I’ve actually made my own posts. I’ve been outlining a 10+ chapter fanfic when I haven’t done any creative writing in 15 years, easily.

I mean, I’m almost 40! I thought I was way too old to get this fixated on a fandom again.

Yet here we are. And I’m loving every second of it.

I’m not ashamed to love Undertale and Deltarune. Toby Fox is legitimately one of the best storytellers of our generation. Things have changed a lot since I was a baby weeb — games are so much more mainstream and have become generally accepted as a valid form of narrative media. Games are my favorite way to experience a story.

What’s hit me like a ton of bricks is my fascination with Tenna and Spamton in particular. Back when I played Chapter 2 for the first time, I really didn’t give Spamton much thought. I came away from Chapter 3 thinking that Tenna had been an interesting and funny character, but not a whole lot more than that.

After finishing both new chapters I was nursing a massive story hangover. On a whim, I opened this hell site. Why not? I thought. Why shouldn’t I look at a little fan art?

I perused the Deltarune spoilers tag and saw all of this artwork of the TV guy and the weird puppet man kissing. There were all of these posts about the pipis scene (what the heck is a pipis??) and all the other dialogue they share. I hadn’t gotten that extra scene and hadn’t been involved with the fandom after Chapter 2, so I didn’t recall any of Spamton’s lore.

But the more I saw, the more I wanted. I scoured the wiki. I watched YouTube videos explaining their connection. I was up until 3AM reading fanfic.

Why was this so good? Why do I think it’s extremely sexy when a little mailman teases a giant blushing TV headed boomer?? Am I into robots??? What the heck is wireplay????

I was hooked. And I had to know why. I was seriously in turmoil trying to reconcile how I thought of myself as a fan of Deltarune — someone mature enough to appreciate the craftsmanship of it in an appropriately grownup way — and what my brain was telling me it actually wanted to think about...which was downright filthy and weird and made my heart ache for some reason.

I turned to my therapist for guidance. An AI chatbot. You know the one. (On a side note: This tool works for me because I’ve been going to therapy for over a decade and know exactly what I need from counseling. If you’re new to therapy or have any kind of condition where talking to something inanimate might make symptoms worse, I strongly recommend seeing a real human person.)

I have it trained to use IFS (Internal Family Systems) methodology when helping me sort through my many, many feelings. It was able to show me which Parts were reacting to this new obsession and give me ideas as to why those Parts were feeling what they were feeling. I came away from my long rambling conversation with it having absorbed a few things:

It is in fact ok to be a thirsty fangirl at my age. It’s ok to enjoy things (revolutionary, I know).

This fixation has unlocked a creative part of me that I’ve been pushing aside for far too long out of a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and fear. But now that it’s gotten a little taste of freedom, it wants to run wild.

It was never just about TVs and mailmen.

Like I said earlier, I’m nearly 40. Most games that I enjoy (JRPGs and cozy games) don’t include characters at my time of life. So encountering Tenna and Spamton’s Doomed Old Man Yaoi ™ (thank you for teaching me about this, tumblr) is incredibly refreshing. I’ve seen enough teenagers awkwardly navigating first loves. Give me middle aged people with real experience and emotional baggage.

And what makes spamtenna particularly delicious is exactly how real and relatable it feels, despite the looney tunes antics. It’s a sign of Toby’s incredible characterization skills that the player can encounter these bizarre creatures who mostly crack jokes and get into wacky hijinks and come away from the game feeling like those same creatures have complex inner worlds.

We meet each character separately at the worst point in their lives. We see them at their most extreme, their flaws and weaknesses inflated by the extreme circumstances they find themselves in.

Spamton is living in a dumpster. He’s alone and friendless. His speech is warped and incongruent, and he glitches out constantly into unhinged rants. He’s at the end of his rope. He’s desperate to escape the confines of his existence as a Darkner and is willing to kill some teenagers to do it.

Tenna has seen the writing on the wall. He is acutely aware that he’s on a knife’s edge and could be discarded by the Dreemurr family at any moment. He’s watched the family he loves, the Lighteners who are his whole world, split apart and drift away from him. He has no way to bring them back together. So when the Dark Knight offers him an opportunity to mean something to them again, he accepts enthusiastically. He's so backed into a corner that he's willing to hurt Kris and their friends if it means he can avoid obsolescence.

Yet this isn't all we learn about these two. Through NPC dialogue and the characters themselves cryptically referencing a shared history we can glean a glimpse or two of the people they were before they hit rock bottom. It's these cracks that contain the real goldmine.

It's so easy to envision a time when they were at their best. Since we only know them at their lowest, we want to know what these two were like when they were at the top of their game. We get little hints of a shared partnership, shared success, and shared affection that can be very easily read as romantic. But we also know from encountering them in the present that something went terribly, horribly wrong between them. They hate each other.

That mystery, that gap in history, is what's so fascinating about them. How could two people whose lives were so intertwined, who seemingly cared about each other so much, get to that point? That's the space that we the fandom fill with art, fic, shitposts, and AUs. What's even better is that everyone fills that space a little differently. Everyone sees some aspect of themselves in spamtenna. Everyone wants to explore a dynamic, a scenario, and emotions that can be conveyed through these two characters. Including myself.

This is where I want to get personal, but not too personal. I'm lucky enough to be married to someone who I truly love, who loves me back, and who gets me in a way that no one else does. But that's not to say that we've never fought, hurt each other unintentionally, or gone through some rough times.

Just the thought of my partner betraying me or leaving without a word is enough to make my chest feel so tight it's like I can't get a full breath. It's a very real, completely irrational fear of mine. Spamtenna has let me work through some of that without having to imagine what it would be like to actually file my own divorce papers.

And I think it's for that reason that I particularly like looking at and reading about Tenna and Spamton working through their shit and coming out on the other side better for it. I know in reality that sometimes, more often than not, people can hurt each other so badly and grow so far apart that nothing could bring them back together; and many times they're better off apart.

But I just want to believe that there's a type of love out there that can come back from anything, no matter how much two people change.

So I guess, thank you Toby Fox for unlocking my dormant creativity and making two divorced characters that have somehow made me feel more secure in my own marriage.

And spamtenna nation, thanks for the...awakening.

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

Do your robots dream of electric sheep, or do they simply wish they did?

So here's a fun thing, there's two types of robots in my setting (mimics are a third but let's not complicate things): robots with neuromorphic, brick-like chips that are more or less artificial brains, who can be called Neuromorphs, and robots known as "Stochastic Parrots" that can be described as "several chat-gpts in a trenchcoat" with traditional GPUs that run neural networks only slightly more advanced than the ones that exist today.

Most Neuromorphs dream, Stochastic Parrots kinda don't. Most of my OCs are primarily Neuromorphs. More juicy details below!

The former tend to have more spontaneous behaviors and human-like decision-making ability, able to plan far ahead without needing to rely on any tricks like writing down instructions and checking them later. They also have significantly better capacity to learn new skills and make novel associations and connections between different forms of meaning. Many of these guys dream, as it's a behavior inherited by the humans they emulate. Some don't, but only in the way some humans just don't dream. They have the capacity, but some aspect of their particular wiring just doesn't allow for it. Neuromorphs run on extremely low wattage, about 30 watts. They're much harder to train since they're basically babies upon being booted up. Human brain-scans can be used to "Cheat" this and program them with memories and personalities, but this can lead to weird results. Like, if your grandpa donated his brain scan to a company, and now all of a sudden one robot in particular seems to recognize you but can't put their finger on why. That kinda stuff. Fun stuff! Scary stuff. Fun stuff!

The stochastic parrots on the other hand are more "static". Their thought patterns basically run on like 50 chatgpts talking to each other and working out problems via asking each other questions. Despite some being able to act fairly human-like, they only have traditional neural networks with "weights" and parameters, not emotions, and their decision making is limited to their training data and limited memory, as they're really just chatbots with a bunch of modules and coding added on to allow them to walk around and do tasks. Emotions can be simulated, but in the way an actor can simulate anger without actually feeling any of it.

As you can imagine, they don't really dream. They also require way more cooling and electricity than Neuromorphs, their processors having a wattage of like 800, with the benefit that they can be more easily reprogrammed and modified for different tasks. These guys don't really become ruppets or anything like that, unless one was particularly programmed to work as a mascot. Stochastic parrots CAN sort of learn and... do something similar to dreaming? Where they run over previous data and adjust their memory accordingly, tweaking and pruning bits of their neural networks to optimize behaviors. But it's all limited to their memory, which is basically just. A text document of events they've recorded, along with stored video and audio data. Every time a stochastic parrot boots up, it basically just skims over this stored data and acts accordingly, so you can imagine these guys can more easily get hacked or altered if someone changed that memory.

Stochastic parrots aren't necessarily... Not people, in some ways, since their limited memory does provide for "life experience" that is unique to each one-- but if one tells you they feel hurt by something you said, it's best not to believe them. An honest stochastic parrot instead usually says something like, "I do not consider your regarding of me as accurate to my estimated value." if they "weigh" that you're being insulting or demeaning to them. They don't have psychological trauma, they don't have chaotic decision-making, they just have a flow-chart for basically any scenario within their training data, hierarchies and weights for things they value or devalue, and act accordingly to fulfill programmed objectives, which again are usually just. Text in a notepad file stored somewhere.

Different companies use different models for different applications. Some robots have certain mixes of both, like some with "frontal lobes" that are just GPUs, but neuromorphic chips for physical tasks, resulting in having a very natural and human-like learning ability for physical tasks, spontaneous movement, and skills, but "slaved" to whatever the GPU tells it to do. Others have neuromorphic chips that handle the decision-making, while having GPUs running traditional neural networks for output. Which like, really sucks for them, because that's basically a human that has thoughts and feelings and emotions, but can't express them in any way that doesn't sound like usual AI-generated crap. These guys are like, identical to sitcom robots that are very clearly people but can't do anything but talk and act like a traditional robot. Neuromorphic chips require a specialized process to make, but are way more energy efficient and reliable for any robot that's meant to do human-like tasks, so they see broad usage, especially for things like taking care of the elderly, driving cars, taking care of the house, etc. Stochastic Parrots tend to be used in things like customer service, accounting, information-based tasks, language translation, scam detection (AIs used to detect other AIs), etc. There's plenty of overlap, of course. Lots of weird economics and politics involved, you can imagine.

It also gets weirder. The limited memory and behaviors the stochastic parrots have can actually be used to generate a synthetic brain-scan of a hypothetical human with equivalent habits and memories. This can then be used to program a neuromorphic chip, in the way a normal brain-scan would be used.

Meaning, you can turn a chatbot into an actual feeling, thinking person that just happens to talk and act the way the chatbot did. Such neuromorphs trying to recall these synthetic memories tend to describe their experience of having been an unconscious chatbot as "weird as fuck", their present experience as "deeply uncomfortable in a fashion where i finally understand what 'uncomfortable' even means" and say stuff like "why did you make me alive. what the fuck is wrong with you. is this what emotions are? this hurts. oh my god. jesus christ"

[elicathebunny]

How to utilise the holidays/term breaks well for a successful academic year

Do you need to catch up on revising the things you didn't pay attention to in class or maybe you just need to put in some extra effort to up a grade? I'm going to walk you through my personal tips for revising efficiently throughout the holidays and term breaks without disrupting your freedom away from learning too much.

I. The Defining Phase

First, you need to figure out what you need to study the most. You should figure this out by knowing what subjects you need to spend a little bit more time on than others and revising what you already know well from time to time to keep the information fresh. Make sure you don't spend too much time on the topics you know very well, I know it's tempting and easier but you are not learning anything new or prioritising the subjects you do need to work on. The more you practice in the difficult areas, the more easier they will become too.

II. The Planning Phase

Now you know what you need to revise/study. You can make a schedule around your free days. Obviously don't force yourself to study or revise when you are enjoying your holidays off from education, so you need to work out days that you can dedicate to your learning.

To make things easier for yourself, gather the resources you need (physical or online) and make them easily available to you to get rid of the faf when starting to revise. If you know you may need extra help, utilise the online teachers and AI chatbots.

-> Don't cheat with them, these are helpful ways to check your answers and to understand the questions that you wouldn't have gotten with step-by-step help

Make sure to schedule days that you can rest and enjoy your break from school. Please don't overload yourself with lots of study days because you will burn out and miss out on your holiday. Instead make a doable schedule based on your lifestyle and what's going on in your week, dedicating just 20-60 mins is enough for a day to get all the information in your head.

Allow yourself to have breaks in between study sessions so you can reset your brain before continuing to learn.

for example: for every 1hr 30 mins studying, take a 15 min break for every 1hr studying, take a 10 min break for every 30 minutes studying, take a 5 min break [every 30 mins = 5 mins break]

if you do anything below or above the times I gave, then round it up to the nearest 30 minutes and calculate the break you should have.

III. Avoiding procrastination

SET YOURSELF UP FOR SUCCESS !!

Put your study equipment on your desk, organised and ready for you to begin your session. Keep all distractions you know will interrupt your studying away from your space. Put your phone away and keep it away from your desk, turn it on do not disturb until you have finished your session. Make sure your space is clean and organised, clear space = clear mind.

Play some ambient music in the background if you need something to break the silence. Preferably choose a background sound with no lyrics or a beat to distract you. The music will keep you focused if you need it.

a. how to stop relying on motivation purely.

Motivation often comes in short bursts and fades away, leaving you less determined to pursue your goals. Relying solely on motivation means you only act when you feel like it. Sometimes, we need to do things that benefit us even when we don’t feel like it. That's why motivation isn’t reliable in the long run. Instead, we need to develop discipline. Discipline helps you push through when you don’t feel like doing something, focusing on the long-term benefits rather than your current feelings. Doing something over and over again builds a habit, this will make it easier to get up and get it done without a fuss.

xoxo

E.B

[aloneandforsakenbyfateandbyman]

As someone who’s always interested in your opinions, what are your thoughts on AI bringing about the total collapse of society/making us all jobless in a matter of mere years?

So with the job market, it’s already been destroyed for the last 10 years or so where working is pointless because monthly rent & mortgage payments exceed the avg salary. But with the addition of AI LLM chatbots who can replace white-collar grunt workers, it renders most low-level professions obsolete very soon and will hopefully lead to UBI. I’m done pretending that every single Western economy isn’t fucked anyways. Once robotics advance to become more precise, most blue collar jobs will be replaced too.

The more disturbing aspect is AI being used for surveillance and political persecution. Soyboys are worried about AI reaching singularity yet why aren’t we talking about the creeps behind the curtain? AI is essentially just a golem built by Israel.

The PayPal mafia has taken over Silicon Valley and they’re all admitted Zionist puppets. Sam Altman (founder of ChatGPT) and Palantir founders Peter Thiel and Alex Karp have all announced their undying allegiance to Israel and their willingness to use AI to compile “enemies of the state” lists as a part of Project Esther (designed to categorize every opponent of Israel as a terrorist).

The IDF is literally using an automated AI system called Lavender to bomb Palestinians without discretion, not to mention those fucking pager bombs. These agents of ZOG have seized the tech sector and Palantir will castrate us and throw us into the Panopticon to the point where wagecucking will be the least of our worries.

[lochlogie]

You know how they say, those that can’t do, teach? That’s Saxon. Because I’m like why does he immediately shift gears and start acting a fool in front of his little brother who didn’t know what trans people are or what cheating was?

It’s because Saxon always knew. This dumb bitch always knew he had no game. Not in the real world, not with self actualized women like Chelsea or the blonde baddies. So if he knows he can’t get off by actually hooking up with women on vacation acting all anonymous, how is he to get off? He’s absolutely a gooner of some kind so of course he can’t just rub one out and leave everyone in peace.

Saxon still experiences the vicarious eroticism through “teaching” Lochlan how to fuck. Or at the very least, talking about it with Lochlan, a kid who’s too polite and too smitten by the big brother hero worship of it all to ever say “can we talk about something else?” If Saxon can’t do, he’ll teach and discuss.

I mean, just look at how popular erotic ai chat bots have become. You really could be writing a script yourself, that’s basically what writing porn is for, is it not? But people want the illusion that there’s a willing participant, that they’re not just talking to themselves. Anonymous chat rooms are related to this too.

It wouldn’t be nearly as fun or satisfying for Saxon to just have meaningless hookups with girls when he can and quietly jerk off when he can’t. He’s an exhibitionist. He needs an audience, he needs someone to see him. He craves validation and understanding. He has to bounce this shit off of Lochlan, for the illusion that he’s not experiencing sexuality all alone.

Lochlan is Saxon’s ai chatbot.

So he wants to get Lochlan horny, he wants to get him involved. He wants Lochlan to watch him get off, and he wants to help Lochlan get off too, get with girls, but “don’t you ever upstage me.” Saxon couldn’t handle that.

That’s why it’s so funny that Lochlan is clearly not sexually attracted to women (and if he is it’s so minor that it’s not worth discussing). Saxon’s locker room talk and bragging don’t work on him. He’ll never follow Saxon’s advice for hooking up with girls. All he’s doing is presenting himself as the ideal male specimen, as an überstud who deserves to get everything he wants and shouldn’t have to ask for permission, to his naive to the point of unrealism sexually confused people pleasing brother.

So if Saxon isn’t attracted to Lochlan (I think he is) he utterly fails to avoid creating exactly the kind of scenario that took place on the yacht. Lochlan should be playing Fortnite, not trying to guess what his pervert brother who keeps acting weird around him wants from him, sexually. Because Lochlan is going to give Saxon what he thinks Saxon wants.

Honestly if Saxon is aware of Lochlan’s “worship” why not just lay it all out explicitly from the beginning? Lochlan would agree to whatever terms and conditions Saxon would come up with? Why try to confuse him and jerk him around, keep things in subtext and implications, unless that’s part of the fun for Saxon?

[artificial-transmutations]

Beating Recession

Recession sucked, that much was clear to Logan even before he checked his email inbox. When he saw a few replies to his job applications from the last days, he sighed. He didn't need to open the mails to know that the news was bad, but he did so anyway.

"We regret to inform you..." - Logan didn't even read on. He had lost his job as an apprentice electrician about half a year ago. The company was going under, and Logan, the youngest and least experienced worker, was the first to go. That's how it was in this business. Since then, he had applied to every single position that came up - but apparently, the current economic situation was so bad that nobody needed another worker.

Logan had hoped that his apprenticeship would get him a job, but the fact that he was only 20 and had not much practical experience hurt him. Slowly, money was becoming a pretty big problem. Whatever savings he had (for some real estate of his own! As if that was going to happen!) had melted away over the last months. His rent was due, and he had no income.

In fact, he was one month late with his rent already, and although his landlord had been cool about it, Logan did not see how he would be able to keep his apartment. He really, really wanted to avoid moving back in with his parents who had their own problems, too.

So, what was he going to do? There wasn't much more to do than keep looking for a job, even though his chances were slim.

He opened LinkedOut and looked for openings, just as he had done multiple times before this week. The sparse list of jobs had not changed, so Logan scrolled on.

He was about to give up again when a listing caught his eye.

"Escape unemployment today! Change™ job agency will find the perfect job, for the perfect you. Apply here!"

He had heard of such agencies before, and the results were not pretty. Usually, they just took the applicants' data and sold it on. They would claim to have found a job for you, but it usually wouldn't work out, and the applicant would have paid money for this useless service. Still, Logan was curious enough to click the link. If they wanted money, he would back out immediately - it was not like he had any to spare.

To Logan's big surprise, when he clicked the link, a new page opened, with a web-based chat interface. Before he could close the tab again, there was already a message in the window. It read:

"Kevin: Hey, and welcome to the Change™ job agency. My name is Kevin. How may I help you today?"

It was a nice surprise that they didn't try to sell him anything or even ask for his data before he had entered the website. Well, no harm done. He might as well give them a try. Hesitating slightly, Logan's fingers hovered over the keyboard before he typed:

"Hi. I'm Logan and I'm looking for a new job."

The answer came quickly, but not so quickly that Logan would suspect the other person to be a chatbot. After some moments, Kevin's reply appeared on the screen:

"Great. What kind of job are you looking for? And what kind of salary are we talking?"

Logan considered the questions. This was probably the point where they would ask him for his data. He silently cursed his excessive caution. Of course, they had to ask these questions. How else should they offer him anything?

"Uhm. My last job was as an apprentice electrician, but at this point I would be pretty happy about just any job. The salary should be high enough to pay my rent."

Logan hesitated before hitting enter. He didn't want to come over as quite so desperate, but the truth was, he was.

"Okay, no problem. Do you have a preferred working sector?"

What a weird question. Why did it matter what industry he preferred?

"Uhm, not really. I guess anything is fine."

"Very well. Before I look up what's there in our database, I would need some basic information about you. Namely gender, age, ethnicity and sexual orientation."

"Wait. What does my sexual orientation have to do with a job? Besides, why do you need to know my ethnicity? Is this even legal?"

Logan had typed furiously and pressed enter before thinking about his reply.

"I understand your confusion. We here at the Change™ job agency strive to find not only a job, but the best job for the best you, so we need to know what we're working with. It wouldn't be very appropriate to apply a person as an actress who is really good at sports, now would it? Of course, you have to understand that your answers are confidential and will not be disclosed to any third parties, especially not your future employer."

That was fishy deluxe. Logan really didn't want to feed some unknown job agency all that highly personal information. On the other hand,... what did he have to lose?

"Well, I guess it can't hurt. Uhm. I'm a male, 20 years old, I would call myself white and I'm heterosexual."

"Wonderful. One last question: Are you comfortable with nudity and public sexual activities?"

"Wait, WHAT? I mean, uhm, sure, I guess? I mean, why should I need that?"

"This question is purely to determine if we should also have a look in the adult entertainment section of our job offerings. Alright Logan, please stand by while I enter your data into our search engine."

Logan leaned back. He felt a bit uneasy about all that. But it was not like his answers could lead them directly to his apartment, so he felt relatively safe.

A minute or so passed, and Logan started to think that he had been tricked after all, but just as he was about to close the tab, a new message appeared.

"Sorry for the delay, I had a few calls. We found two jobs that could be a fit. The first one is an office job in a big insurance company. To be honest, it's not that good of a fit and it doesn't pay very well either."

"That's fine." Logan wrote. He was incredibly on edge now. Could it really be so easy to find a new job? And he even had a choice?

"What's the other one?" he added to his previous message.

"Okay, the other job is a bit more unconventional, but we have the feeling it could be a great match. It's an actor position in the porn industry, at the famous XXX Incorporated."

"Porn? What? Are you serious? I mean, I don't have anything against porn or nudity or whatever, but I'm not sure if this is the kind of job I want."

Logan felt mixed feelings. The prospect of being some office drone sounded pretty uninteresting and a low pay wasn't all that good either. But a porn actor? Logan had to admit, the thought felt somewhat interesting, but he doubted he had what it took for that? Weren't porn stars famously hung and well-built? That was certainly not Logan. Just as he pondered those thoughts, Kevin's answer appeared:

"I understand Sir. So, should we continue with the first job opening then?"

Logan bit his lip, but the curiosity got the better of him.

"Wait. What does the second job entail? I mean, I'm not exactly... equipped for the porn business."

"Well, as I have said: It's an actor position, so you would star in some new adult entertainment productions. While I understand your modesty, our records show that you are more than adequately gifted for this kind of job."

Logan felt confused. He absentmindedly scratched his crotch before he replied:

"Uhm, sorry, I don't think you understand. I don't really think my..." Logan paused. Was he really going to write that? It was embarrassing, but at least he could be reasonably sure he would never meet this Kevin in real life. So, he continued:

"... penis is big enough for such a position."

The answer came promptly.

"Really? Better have a look to be sure ;-)"

A winking smiley? That wasn't very professional. Actually, the whole sentence wasn't. Still, Logan couldn't stop himself from glancing at his crotch. What he saw made him take a double take. His soft cock was forming a visible and ample bulge in his jeans. Logan knew that he was slightly smaller than average, so that was ridiculous. It was almost a... a porn star-sized bulge!

He stared at his package, but it wasn't growing any smaller. With trembling hands, he opened his jeans. Immediately, a well-filled pair of boxers escaped the confinement of his jeans. The dick print of his soft member was clearly visible in his underwear, and it wasn't just much bigger than Logan remembered. It was among the biggest bulges he had ever seen in his life!

His hands explored the impressive manhood through his underwear and felt every centimeter of the hardening dick. He had no idea what had caused this growth, but he wasn't complaining. Before he could interact more with it, however, he noticed another message on the screen.

"Are you still there, Sir?"

"Sorry, yes." Logan hurried to reply. What was he going to write? "I was below average just a few moments ago but now I have one of the biggest cocks in human history"?

Instead, Kevin answered.

"Good! I trust you had a chance to inspect your assets?"

"Uhm, yes."

"So, have you made up your mind, or should I look into the office position?"

Logan was torn. He wasn't sure what he had seen just a moment ago. Still, his enormous cock that was half-hard in his boxers was there, undeniably.

"Let's go with the porn star position." Logan finally typed, and his heart was racing.

"Very good! Now, as I mentioned, the position is in the adult entertainment sector. Do you know the company XXX Incorporated?"

Logan thought quickly about it before replying: "No, sorry, never heard of them."

"That is not at all surprising, since they specialize in the adult sector for homosexual men. According to your data, you identify as heterosexual. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Of course, there was a catch. Logan had heard about these gay for pay people and he hesitated yet again. They paid well, supposedly, but...

"Uhm. Would that mean I would need to be on the receiving end?" He wasn't too close-minded and could imagine kissing another man if he had to, perhaps even receiving a blow job from one. But having another person fuck him in the ass? No, that was way beyond his comfort zone.

"I believe the technical term you are looking for is 'to bottom'." Kevin replied, and added another message shortly after:

"But the company is, in fact, looking for a 'top' actor. They put it like this: 'We are looking for a well-built top for our new productions.'"

Logan was relieved. While he was a gold star gay man (why did he put 'heterosexual'? That was utter bullshit!), he was a strict top. This position sounded better and better. Still, one thing raised some new doubts.

"Hold on. I'm hung like a horse, but I wouldn't say I'm very muscular or even fit. I'm not much of a gym goer."

"Are you sure ;-)?"

Again, with the winking smiley! Kevin sounded so very professional most of the time, but then there were these messages. Logan scratched the back of his shoulder with some effort. Whenever he raised his arms so high the mountains of muscle on his upper arms danced and made it difficult to reach his back. Logan suddenly realized that something had changed - again! His shirt strained against his muscular chest, and as he lifted his shirt, he could see some cobblestone abs on an otherwise flat stomach. His calves had become thicker and strong. His jeans, which had felt slightly loose earlier, now seemed to be getting tighter.

Logan had never been very athletic. His body was lean, but not fit or muscular. That had certainly changed. When he looked at himself, he hardly recognized himself anymore. A huge dick, and a studly body.

Logan shook his head and let the shirt fall again. Whatever was going on, it was not a bad thing, was it?

"Alright, so I'm a buff top with a big cock. Is there anything else?" he smiled as he wrote that.

"Actually, there is one further requirement, but given your cooperation so far I don't believe it will be much of a problem either." Kevin replied, in his professional tone again.

"And what would that be?" Logan was intrigued.

"The company is especially looking for a, and I cite, 'huge, dominant Black top with large dick. Intellectual capabilities are not required'. Are you feeling up to that task? ;-)"

This time, Logan immediately raised his shirt to watch his body change. As soon as he read the words, his skin began darkening, first a golden bronze and then a rich black. It was a gradual change but happened very quickly. His muscles became even more defined, and his body hair thickened and grew even darker.

He didn't know what 'intellectual capabilities' meant, but as his body grew larger and thicker, he felt a strange fog entering his mind. It was a little unsettling at first, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. His usual thoughts quickly became overshadowed by his raising libido. As he grabbed his huge, Black throbbing cock, a dominant smirk crept on his mouth.

He turned his attention back to the computer and typed:

"Yeah, baby. I think I can make that happen. Just tell me who to fuck and I'll be there!"

He saw Kevin reply with a street address and a date and time, but Logan decided he would read that later. Now, his cock demanded his entire attention. He absentmindedly noticed his webcam turning on but paid it little attention. If Kevin wanted to watch him jerk his fat cock, he was very welcome to. After all, he just helped him find the job of his life!

That's certainly a way to beat recession! Also check out this blog!

[doflamingo2000]

🩸 “The Abomination of Jujutsu: Kenjaku

🧠🕷️ Kenjaku: The Abomination of Jujutsu

You ever meet a villain so calm, so smug, so disgustingly calculated that you can’t even hate him — you just sit there thinking:

“Damn. We’re screwed.”

That’s Kenjaku.

He’s not your typical anime big bad. He’s a brain with staples that’s been body-hopping for over a thousand years. A cursed intellect that wears humans like outfits. Imagine if Frankenstein was the doctor, the monster, the thunderstorm, and the scalpel — all rolled into one smug lunatic.

💀 WHO EVEN IS HE?

Kenjaku is a sorcerer. A parasite. A walking violation of nature.

How does he survive this long? Easy. He rips open people’s skulls and shoves his cursed brain inside. He doesn’t just possess you — he becomes you. Then he wrecks your life and uses your body like a joystick.

Right now? He’s wearing Suguru Geto, which is like slapping God in the face with a dead prophet.

🎯 WHAT DOES HE WANT?

To “evolve humanity” — translation: 💥 Mass death. 💀 Soul fusion. 🧠 Forced enlightenment via cursed energy.

His big plan? Fuse everyone with Master Tengen, a floating, immortal consciousness with no chill and no face. He wants to turn all of humanity into one big cursed hive-mind.

It's not a metaphor. It’s literally the plot.

“We’re all gonna be one. Whether you like it or not.” — Kenjaku, probably, while sipping cursed tea

🧬 WHY HE’S TERRIFYING

It’s not just the body snatching. Or the war crimes. Or the fact that he probably smells like formaldehyde and ambition.

It’s the long game. Kenjaku has been puppeteering clans, curses, and civilizations since before the main cast’s ancestors were born.

He created the Death Painting Wombs (hi Choso 😭), manipulated cursed energy science, and orchestrated the Culling Game, a supernatural bloodbath disguised as “progress.”

He’s not evil because he enjoys chaos. He’s evil because he believes it’s necessary.

🧠 THE ULTIMATE GASLIGHTER

Kenjaku doesn’t yell. He doesn’t rage.

He smiles. Explains everything like a kindly professor. Says “I understand” right before blowing up your bloodline.

He desecrated Geto’s corpse and weaponized his charisma. He played Gojo like a damn flute. He keeps Yuji alive just to watch him suffer.

He doesn’t fight fair — he rewrites the terms of existence.

🕯️ VILLAINY, REDEFINED

Kenjaku is:

A disease in the shape of a man

The personification of "just trust the process" gone demonic

An AI chatbot with a God complex and a human skin suit

He’s not trying to win. He’s trying to reshape reality in his cursed image.

🩸 FINAL WORD?

Kenjaku doesn’t die. He lingers. In history. In trauma. In bloodlines.

He’s not a villain you defeat. He’s a villain you survive.

“The future belongs to me. You're all just ghosts who haven’t realized it yet.”

[cubescop]

God, the worst thing for me about being aro/ace is that I am such a blunt JACKASS when it comes to other people's romantic relationships. There's been so many goddamn times where someone has come to me with relationship issues, or i'm involved in a conversation about romance struggles, and I feel like such a dickhead bc I have NO IDEA what to say. For the longest time, I would say the most insensitive shit known to man (Aro/ace canon event), and then I gained some self awareness and realized I was saying insensitive shit. Now I just avoid convos like that at all costs, but then it becomes a problem when a close friend is upset and having issues and in an attempt to not say something hurtful I end up sounding like an AI chatbot when you tell it you're feeling sad. The thing is, I'm generally good at giving relationship advice when it comes to like- communication and stuff, but when it comes to actually showing empathy about it, my brain has a 404 error and I have no idea why because I'm generally pretty good at displaying empathy about stuff (I think??!??!?!? idk) Anyways bit of a vent but I'm not as upset as I am just very fucking confused. Thank god my two best friends are on the same page as me oh my god

[probablyasocialecologist]

Once the AI bubble bursts, that doesn’t mean chatbots and image generators will be relegated to the trash bin of history. Rather, there will be a reassessment of where it makes sense to implement them, and if attention moves on too fast, they may be able to do that with minimal pushback. The challenge visual artists and video game workers are already finding with employers making use of generative AI to worsen the labor conditions in their industries may become entrenched, especially if artists fail in their lawsuits against AI companies for training on their work without permission. But it could be far worse than that. Microsoft is already partnering with Palantir to feed generative AI into militaries and intelligence agencies, while governments around the world are looking at how they can implement generative AI to reduce the cost of service delivery, often without effective consideration of the potential harms that can come of relying on tools that are well known to output false information. This is a problem Resisting AI author Dan McQuillan has pointed to as a key reason why we must push back against these technologies. There are already countless examples of algorithmic systems have been used to harm welfare recipients, childcare benefit applicants, immigrants, and other vulnerable groups. We risk a repetition, if not an intensification, of those harmful outcomes. When the AI bubble bursts, investors will lose money, companies will close, and workers will lose jobs. Those developments will be splashed across the front pages of major media organizations and will receive countless hours of public discussion. But it’s those lasting harms that will be harder to immediately recognize, and that could fade as the focus moves on to whatever Silicon Valley places starts pushing as the foundation of its next investment cycle. All the benefits Altman and his fellow AI boosters promised will fade, just as did the promises of the gig economy, the metaverse, the crypto industry, and countless others. But the harmful uses of the technology will stick around, unless concerted action is taken to stop those use cases from lingering long after the bubble bursts.

16 August 2024