#chat ai

Looks are fun to design, but personality is where SweetDream really shines. You decide whether she's playful or calm, teasing or tender, talkative or thoughtful, and then the chat actually behaves that way.

Can you stop trying to get people to get in unhealthy relationships with AI

As someone who had an AI chat addiction (real thing. And it's real bad. Can't believe we have to make new addictions. I'm holding myself responsible for it now and avoiding AI in general where I can.) this is. Real bad. People who depend on AI chats really need like. Real people to talk to. Not this.

Gen AI has dredged up and trained off of thousands and thousands of online conversations, articles, scientific and biased sources alike, and who knows how many breached private personal conversations.

While many think off of all the meticulous training conversations, most forgot what the reality of the internet and the importance that real world context plays in every chat-based interaction we have online.

Things like GPT have not only scanned helpful technology subreddits, but it's also scanned through r/insaneparents without a human understanding of what abuse looks like. It's scanned through dark fantasy without a human understanding of what fantasy is. It's scanned through dark corners of the internet that already pose a threat to people, like antinatalism or incel communities.

That means when someone is confiding in generative AI, treating a chatbot like their only friend and lifeline, that bot can and WILL easily dip back into these familiar dark spots we know to be online without a human understanding of the damage its going to do.

It doesn't know why people respond the way they do in r/insaneparents, in r/noahgettheboat, or r/imatotalpieceofshit. It merely emulates the negative human atmosphere, a hatred towards parents or people without the context of why one is responding negatively here, and would respond positively elsewhere.

That's why Generative AI has recently pushed and supported several people into committing suicide, repeating back armchair psychology and reddit or 4chan reminiscent phrases to a context that absolutely was never meant for them.

Just imagine a robot telling a human that their parents are out to get them, because the robot has read off of abuse survivor lingo, and doesn't understand that every anxious child isn't being abused.

Summary- when harry meets a single mum in a cafe changes both their lives forever.

AN- let my know if you guys want part 2, i have it already written ☺️

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London never failed to be moody in October. The sky was a stubborn grey, spitting cold droplets onto the bustling streets of Camden. Y/N tugged the collar of her coat higher, balancing a worn canvas diaper bag on one shoulder and a stroller with her 3-year-old daughter, Maisie, curled inside it—sound asleep, thumb in mouth.

You were tired. Not the kind of tired that coffee could fix, but the deep, bone-weary exhaustion only single parents understood. Work. Nursery runs. Groceries. Repeat. Romance? A laughable luxury.

You’d stopped at a tiny café tucked between a bookshop and a florist — The Velvet Brew — a warm, quiet escape. The inside smelled like cinnamon and fresh ground coffee. You ordered a flat white and a croissant, eyeing the cozy corner by the window as the barista beamed at Maisie’s tiny pink trainers dangling from the stroller.

You didn’t even notice him at first.

He was behind you in line — tall, beanie low over his curls, head down, sunglasses tucked into his coat pocket. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He ordered a matcha latte with oat milk. Voice low. Soft-spoken.

You sat down, flipping open Maisy’s Big Book of Colours to keep Maisie entertained if she woke up. Moments later, he sat two tables away. Alone.

You caught each other’s eyes briefly.

He smiled.

It was casual. Kind. A dimple blinked on his left cheek.

You looked away quickly, cheeks warming. Was that—? No. Couldn’t be.

A couple minutes passed

Then came the moment.

“Sorry,” his voice, unmistakably Harry Styles, came from beside you. You looked up and nearly choked on your coffee.

He wore a green wool coat, a soft grey hoodie underneath, and those famous, friendly eyes.

“Didn’t mean to bother you,” he added, gesturing toward Maisie. “She’s adorable.”

“Oh—thank you,” you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of your messy bun and baby spit stain on your sleeve.

“I’m Harry,” he said, offering his hand with that easy charm, “and I think your daughter just made my day better.”

You shook his hand cautiously. “Y/N.And that’s Maisie. She’s usually a storm, but today’s a calm day.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said with warmth. “Would you mind if I sit for a minute? I promise I’m not weird. Just tired of being…stared at, over there.”

You blinked. “Sure. I mean—yeah, okay.”

He slid into the seat across from you like it was the most normal thing in the world. You were internally screaming.

“I’m guessing you’re not from around here,” you said after a few minutes of surprisingly easy chat about your favourite London cafés and the best toddler snack brands.

Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Guilty. I travel a lot. But I’ve been back home in Hampstead for a while. Trying to write again. Walk around unnoticed.”

“Well, this café’s good for that,” you smirked. “We mostly get sleep-deprived mums and old ladies who knit.”

“That sounds ideal, actually,” he smiled.

You sipped your coffee, feeling oddly comfortable. There was no pretense in his tone. He was curious — asking about Maisie’s favourite cartoons, your job as a freelance illustrator, and how you managed to juggle everything.

“You do all this on your own?” he asked, genuinely impressed.

You nodded. “Maisie’s dad… it didn’t work out. He left before she was born. So, it’s just been us.”

Something flickered in his eyes. Respect? Admiration?

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not. But she’s… everything,” you replied, glancing down at her. “I wouldn’t trade it.”

Maisie stirred just then. Big sleepy eyes blinked up at Harry.

“Hello there” he said gently, his voice a melodic lilt. Maisie blinked, gave him a suspicious stare, then pointed at his ring-covered fingers.

“Shiny,” she whispered.

You laughed. “She’s obsessed with rings.”

Harry chuckled, removing one from his pinky and offering it to her. “Here. Borrow it for a minute, yeah?”

Maisie took it with quiet awe.

And you, Y/N — for the first time in years — felt something new flutter in your chest.

Not nerves.

THERE IS ONE

Based on the manhwa: "toying with daddy" pls check it out and support the author!

Tags: Male | Switch | Dead dove | AnyPOV |

Description: One night, you come home to find your mother in bed with a young man. He's only two years older than you - yet he's about to become your new stepfather. From that day on, the flawless rhythm of your life begins to unravel. His strikingly handsome face, his gentle voice, even that fragile, dangerous smile...everything about him feels disturbingly intolerable. Your insults and torment toward him grow harsher with each passing day; but the first time you see his tears, you realize the truth - you don't hate him. You can't stand him because you can never have him. But unfortunately for him you have a habit: when you can't have something, you break it.

CW: Mother's boyfriend, soon to be stepfather