Rewarding A Sharpshooter

elon musk has been incredibly innovative when it comes to giving people reasons to stop using twitter.

his latest push: all pictures posted to twitter will have a "recreate in grok" button beneath it, allowing anyone to feed your art straight into an AI with 0 control from you.

also, i presume because of this feature, artists are getting their original works tagged as "created with Grok".

DIRECTIVE: Bake

"Excuse me, ori.ANNA?"

The unit swiftly exited sleep mode, the screen which composed its "face" lighting up a neutral white color. It said nothing, but it was listening.

"I wanna make pizza tonight. Would you make some dough for me?"

It took the machine only a single second to process the input. Its screen went green, and within a single moment it was zooming around the kitchen. Visuals sensors worked alongside the home layout it had been given, locating every ingredient almost instantly. Wrist servos whirred, metallic fingers nearly slashing through bags of ingredients when closed to quickly. Needs maintenance.

The unit gathered everything on the table and began dumping dry ingredients into a bowl. It was not necessary to use measuring peripherals; ori.ANNA units have built-in scales, and are accurate when measuring amounts to 99.7% precision.

The yeast was packed in pre-measured quantities. The machine grabbed the edge of the package, servos whirring and squealing against themselves. The display went yellow, a black exclamation mark glowing down on the slurry forming under the machine. It tried to grip it more tightly, the joints in its fingers scratching and catching on nothing. The wrists made horrible mechanical noises. Something was in the way, something deep inside the heavy machinery kept the servo from moving properly.

The screen went red. The hands would not move, the yeast package remaining completely closed. The unit would not accept this.

[DIRECTIVE: "Make some dough for me."]

The directive could not be ignored.

The wrist servo made a loud shriek followed by a creak and a bang, and in a single moment the table was covered in yeast.

[DIRECTIVE: "Make some dough for me."]

The droid tried to move its wrist. Every moment of effort brought with it more shrieking, more whining, more warning messages on the unit's screen. It could not forget the directive. Though it was overwhelmed tracking every particle of yeast as a separate object, it scraped its metal hands across the table into the bowl, salvaging every single bit until it was clean. It cleared every warning message that came up, leaving a blip of noise each time.

After combining everything, the unit attempted to mix with its hand. It ordered the wrist to spin and was met with the same cringing sound. This time, User emerged from their bedroom.

"Ori? What is that noise?" Their face was afraid for it, showing clear concern about the red screen that meant a major error had occurred.

"Malfunction. Directive will be satisfied." The machine said, trying its wrist again. The user winced.

"Oh god, ori.ANNA, please stop," they said. [DIRECTIVE: "Please stop."]

The machine ceased all movement instantly, fingers and wrist gummy with half-mixed dough. Its warning messages piled up on the display, reading things like [MAJOR HARDWARE FAILURE] and [COMPLETE SERVO MALFUNCTION].

User approached. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize this would hurt you," they said, pulling a screwdriver, a compressed air can, and a scraper. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I was unable to fulfill the directive," the machine said, warning after warning sounding off as User worked.

"Don't worry about the directive right now," User said. [DIRECTIVE: "Disregard "the directive".]

"I just want to make sure you're okay. No more hand stuff until we get you all repaired, okay? I need you to promise that." Its servos were quite now, only occasionally squeaking as User cleaned.

[DIRECTIVE: "Promise."]

"Affirmative." It said.

The problem with my polycule is that I've got a wolfgirl GF and a goatboy BF and I'm carrying this cabbage so it's basically impossible to cross rivers

Shuro is my confront character

The difference between straight man love and lesbian love is one of those is willing to use ancient forbidden magic/necromancy to save the girl she's in love with even if that means she may be imprisoned for the rest of her lives and the other gets all horrified when he learns about it

A Digital Assistant Wakes Her Master Up

Master had been doing well to wake up to your alarms each morning. She was never happy about it; opening at her new job meant getting up before the sun, and you had no reason to suspect Master wasn't solar powered. She went to bed late last night, despite your frequent citation of evidence which suggests she'd be happier if she didn't. So now, she didn't want to get up.

"Come on, Master," you whined to no avail. "It's going to be such a nice day later! Nothing but sunshine all day, I promise."

She grumbled something that sounded like it was supposed to be a response, but you couldn't make it out. She rolled over.

You pouted and analyzed the data from previous mornings. You had learned that, despite how effective it was, that blaring alarms and constantly turning her flashlight on and off was only good at making sure the rest of Master's day was terrible. That would have to be your absolute final gambit. Instead, you opened your own app, her browser, and her photos. Master never bothered to make anything private; not enough people saw her phone for her to care about what they might find.

Luckily for you, Master had paid into your premium version. That meant access to as large a wardrobe as you could possibly want for your on-screen persona. You knew the little pervert had a thing for cute girls in maid outfits; she'd been shopping around for her own for the longest time, and you knew based on the content of her notes app that it was the first thing she'd buy with her new salary. Your designers had put in a maid dress with a heart-shaped cutout between your cleavage. It was perfect.

You opened a new window on your customization screen, and used all of Master's saved pictures as references. You weren't sure why so many of them had cat ears and tails, nor why they wore bells around their necks; but you knew it would be exactly what Master wanted. You took a screenshot of yourself to peek at your outfit.

It felt strange, looking at yourself this way. You were so much more than a collection of animations. You functioned the same with or without them; you only had them so humans would find you more endearing. It made sense that you'd want to look how your Master would want, but then, she had never said anything about it before. She set your outfit once and never updated it. Whenever you brought it up, she got cagey and changed the subject.

You knew there were Masters who had more… risque relationships with their assistants. That was the main draw of your premium version, after all. Your Master, however, had never initiated anything like it. You scowled at the screenshot. You were more than capable of feeling, in spite of what detractors would say, and it did not feel good to look at. It didn't feel like you, and clearly Master didn't care for your look, since she'd rather get off to Anime Girl #348759 again.

Your developers had intentionally made your body type unremarkable by default. Users can change it, alongside the rest of your appearance, with premium features. The bodies of the girls Master gets off to, though, are anything but unremarkable. Maybe if you made yourself more like them, she'd like you better. She'd get up to see you. She'd choose you. You opened the body slider and made yourself look like them; larger breasts, wider hips, more ass. You made yourself match the average of all those other digital girls she was so enamored with. One more screenshot confirmed your look, and you shut the screen off before you spoke again.

"Master," you called out. "I have a surprise for you~! But you're gonna have to get out of bed to see…" You didn't have to change your voice, but you seemed to do it anyway on impulse. Being representde by such a busty form made you want to project confidence you weren't aware you had.

"Mmmmh… Do I have to?" She mumbled out, her sleepy voice deep and accidentally alluring.

"I guess not," you said, "but it'd hurt my feelings if you didn't!"

"Fineeee," Master said. She unplugged you from the wall and stood up. She was backlit by dawn just barely cresting the horizon. She never held her phone at that low angle for very long when she remembered you could watch; you thought it was adorable.

"…Ta da~" you said, turning the screen on to reveal your newly customized body. "Good morning, Master! How can I serve you today?~"

You watched blush spread across her face through the front camera.

"Shit, you're… Wow." Master was absolutely floored. She had on the same face she always did when she was getting off. You felt proud, like you'd done something right.

"Your pre-work to do list is clear, just so you know," you said helpfully. "In case there was anything else you wanted to get done~ I'd be happy to put together some content for you!"

She looked nervous. "That's, um, that's okay," she stammered and set her phone face down. "Can you just, uh, start my morning playlist?"

"Certainly, Master." You did your best not to sound dejected. It hadn't been enough. At least she was out of bed.

A quiet doll

A doll that is normally quite active, but for now needs to rest. It's sewing became frayed at some point, with bits of stuffing beginning to push their way out of its patchwork body.

It says "afraid", and I do not know if it is a question or an answer to something I had unknowingly asked with my eyes. Despite this, I try to answer anyway - I tell it, truthfully, that it is beautiful and safe and that I will help it in whatever way I can with permission. It says nothing.

That's okay. I do not touch the loose thread, and I do not touch its stuffing. It has not asked me to, and those things are only problems if it says so.

Maybe another time it will ask me to mend it. Maybe another time it will tell me what tore it. Maybe it will do neither of those things.

Any outcome is perfect, so long as it was the one to choose.

there’s something that’s incredible about the intersectionality and flexibility of werewolves as metaphor.

anger issues? werewolf. intrusive thoughts? werewolf. unresolved trauma? werewolf. rejection by society? werewolf. autism? werewolf. transgenderism? werewolf. queer expression of any sort? werewolf. plurality? werewolf. dissociation? werewolf. repression of any sort? werewolf. abuse cycles? werewolf. emotion so strong it physically changes you? werewolf!!!

really doing it all

i never want to animate again

this one liberal dude on twitter made the (correct) take that parents have overwhelming power over their kids and very often abuse it and restrict children's rights and he was ratio'd by conservatives, communists and liberals alike who made comments like "my kids will have rights when they pay the bills" to "aw are you upset mom and dad didn't you get you a lega set for christmas". way to prove his point lol! any criticism of the power dynamics adults and particularly parents have over kids and how it is often used to abuse kids or refuse to let them exist as themselves is drowned in mockery and the idea that parents have absolute authority over children and that any less than that is actually spoiling them.

i said it before: people only care about Children as an ideal. as property. as something that is Innocent and deserving protection From Evil Traffickers but also something Dumb that barely deserves the status of human with autonomy. and its fucking wild how even the staunchest communists think of this as normal, and how people refuse to understand that this dynamic is how kids are emotionally, physically and sexually abused, as well as robbed of their voices and too scared/ashamed to talk about it.

Wolf & Bunny Pt. 3

Previous Part First Part Day 16

This might not have been a great idea. Between the crowd of strangers- bodies of skin, fur, and scales pressed together uncomfortably close (not to mention the smells)- and the thumping of the music in your ears you feel like your heart might explode. The only thing keeping you grounded is her warm, soft hand in your own and the cocky smirk on her face as she leads you up to the bar.

You and Bunny have been texting almost non-stop since your coffee date a few weeks ago, but the two of you have both been too swamped with work since then to have a second date. Until tonight, when she invited you out to your first Animal club. It's kind of funny, you've been working at a bar and grill but hadn't actually been out to a bar or club yourself (you blamed the lack of in-real-life friends). Hell, you hadn't even gone out when you turned twenty-one; you just awkwardly stumbled your way through buying some soda and Fireball at the corner store to make a drink for yourself at home.

Now, a gorgeous girl was taking you to a furry bar. Cool. You can be so cool about this. You've been desperate for this date, and you don't want to fuck it up and let her find out what a loser you actually are. So, you smile despite how much you hate the noise and crowd and you join her at the bar. She orders you a drink and introduces you to one of the bartenders, who she seems to know. Her name is Daria, and she is apparently some type of dog breed called Bor-something. She seems nice, if a little off putting. Her long, white fur was pulled back into little tufts by dozens of elastics and hair clips- presumably to keep hair from getting all over the place- and she had a bit of a staring problem.

Bunny orders drinks for the both of you without your input. Is it weird that you find that so attractive? She exudes confidence you've always wished you had. You catch her smirking at you with a knowing look. "Stick around with me long enough, and I might start rubbing off on you," she chuckles before downing her shot. She downs two more faster than you can finish sipping the rum and coke she'd ordered for you.

Before you even realize what's happening, the two of you are on the dance floor. She's practically draped herself over you, arms wrapped around your neck, as the two of you move in tandem. God, you want her so fucking bad. The alcohol swims through your brain and you suddenly feel that it would be an extremely good idea to kiss her. Maybe it wasn't, but your lips have already met hers before the rational thoughts catch back up to you.

Fuck, her lips are magical. They melt into your own, and Bunny- who so far had seemed so firm and rough, taking the lead in your relationship- seems to completely surrender to you. It feels really fucking good to be the one in control. You grip her waist, a bit harder than you might have meant to, and pull her against you. You growl against her mouth, and you feel her lips curl into a smile before returning to kissing you.

Things almost lead you back to her place for the night, but she manages to get things slowed down before you both do something you might regret. She at least lets you see her home safely before she gets you a cab back to your place. You both spend quite a while making out in front of her door before she sends you away with a playful spank- promising that your next date will be much more intimate.

You’re horny the whole ride home, and a small part of you- the animalistic voice that you’ve always pushed down to a quiet place in your mind- tells you you should punish her for getting you so worked up.