So long, Sassenach. The final episode of Outlander aired on May 15th, and fans everywhere (including yours truly) are in mourning. The story that was once written by Diana Gabaldon on a whim to see if she could write a novel (like, what?) has turned into one of the most in-demand series of all time, featuring the kind of love story that fairy tales wish they could emulate. As the cast and crew wrapped filming, fans streamed and sobbed, and Jamie and Claire enchanted us all one last time.

The first book in the Outlander series was published on June 1st, 1991, and yes. When Diana Gabaldon started writing the thing, it was an experiment. She wanted to write a “practice” book first to see if she could do it before writing the story that she really wanted to write, and up and wrote one of the epic love stories for the ages. I want to say “WHO DOES THAT?” but the answer, obviously, is that she does. For over 20 years now, Gabaldon’s been adding to the series that started from her first attempt at novel writing, adding 8 more books, with one final installment still in the works (publishing date still TBD, for those of you like me who are chomping at the bit).

There are some mild spoilers ahead, so if you don’t want to be spoiled on elements of the story that have been out for over 20 years now, proceed with caution.

Jamie and Claire’s love story begins in post-World War II Scotland when Claire falls through time while on a sort of second honeymoon with her first husband, and winds up in pre-uprising Scotland in the year 1743. While the story itself is more historical fiction than fantasy, the time-travel element definitely gives the reader the feeling of epic fantasy, and then the way the series takes the reader through all the beauty the Scottish Highlands have to offer, the books set a very high standard for the TV adaptation to meet.

And boy did it ever! Avid readers know well the disappointment of a screen adaptation not living up to their impression of the story they fell in love with in the pages. With Outlander, that disappointment simply did not happen. From the very beginning, Gabaldon had a hand in every aspect of the production, making sure that the vision of the series matched what she had in mind in her original work. Not a single aspect of the series didn’t have her fingerprints on it, and the end result is a series that is so well done, I got my own STARZ subscription when my ex changed his password.

The acting is flawless, with epic performances throughout from Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe, and the whole ensemble, really. And remember when I said that this series matches the energy in the books? The spice from the pages is brought to life so well, I had to double-check more than once and make sure I was still streaming and hadn’t stumbled into Scottish OnlyFans. The chemistry between Heughan and Balfe is the kind of creative partnership that most directors only dream of, and saying goodbye to that kind of on-screen magic is something the entire viewership has been dreading.

As far as the final episode goes… I should have bought more tissues. I was a blubbering mess throughout the entire thing, and then that end-credit scene? *chef’s kiss* To the cast and crew of Outlander, thank you for bringing a beloved story to life. Watching the series over the past 12 years has been a damn delight. To Diana Gabaldon, take your time writing that last book, queen. I’m not ready for it to be over!

Meta’s done it again! They’ve launched a shiny new feature on one of their platforms with great pomp and circumstance… and their users HATE it. Instants is supposed to give Instagram users the opportunity to send unedited, “in the moment” photos to their close friends à la Snapchat, but users already have Snapchat for that, and would rather the platform deal with actual problems first.

After the great TikTok ban that wasn’t, Meta hasn’t stopped their commitment to making sure that they’re a one-stop social media shop that offers everything that can be found on other platforms. Instants is just their latest attempt to hone in on someone else’s social media turf, this time with their eye firmly fixed on Snapchat. The idea was that users could send off-the-cuff snapshots to close friends only (exactly like people do on Snapchat), and to allow users to have a more spontaneous experience while interacting on Instagram.

One major problem with that idea: Instagram is where people go specifically to share curated images that they’ve carefully crafted to fill their grid. Even with stories, people generally have a specific vibe that they go for, and they tend to stick to what works for them and what they know their audience expects. Less than 24 hours after launching Instants, the most searched-for topic in relation to Instagram wasn’t “What are Instants?” or even “How do I use Instants?” It was “How do I disable Instants?” People overwhelmingly DO NOT like the new feature, and have a laundry list of things that they’d rather the platform address first.

For instance, several users on Threads (the platform Meta built to compete with Twitter, because reminder: competing with other platforms is what they do) bemoaned being offered the opportunity to share disappearing images directly with their followers, when all they really want is for Instagram to show their content to their followers in the feed. That’s why they followed them in the first place, but with Meta running ads, users report that they’re not seeing enough from the accounts that they’re on the platform to engage with, and are instead seeing endless ads from companies whose accounts they don’t even follow.

Another major problem that Instagram users face is trying to log in, only to find that accounts they’ve been growing for years have suddenly been banned overnight for nebulous reasons. OnlyFans creators with Instagram accounts in particular have been hit hard by the latest wave of crackdowns on content that can be perceived as sexual. Instagram has a strict policy against nudity and soliciting, and even though the banned creators were (usually) following Instagram’s TOS, they still found themselves having to rebuild from scratch, or use another social media platform altogether. A common problem that banned OnlyFans creators had in common was having the link to their OnlyFans page directly in their bio. Instagram deemed a link to a site where models are asking people to pay for access to explicit videos to be a form of solicitation, and so they gave the models the boot… even though OnlyFans is fully legal and has very strict rules about consent.

Between seeing nothing but ads instead of your second cousin’s gender reveal, and users having their accounts yanked overnight with little to no warning, there’s a lot happening on the gram that could stand to be fixed rather than investing resources into forcing yet another new feature nobody asked for down our throats. Especially when that new feature is essentially attempting to replace what Instagram was initially built on so that they can give more feed space to advertisers instead of letting you see what that artist you enjoy following is up to these days.

The next time Meta decides to look over the fence to compare lawns, maybe they should remember that the grass isn’t actually always greener on the other side, but rather that it’s greener where you water it. New features are great and all — Instants excepted, because yikes. I did NOT have a good time with those either, but maybe next time Meta can focus more on fixing existing problems that users want solved, rather than spending time and money creating a flashy new feature that nobody actually wants in the first place (looking at you, Meta AI).

Two single guys, two couples, zero monogamy. Emily Mai breaks down her polyamorous lifestyle and why she’s not going back.

Between the situationships, the talking stages, and the “what are we now” conversations, modern dating is a lot. And somewhere between swiping right and sharing locations, a growing number of people are starting to wonder if the whole one-person-forever thing was ever really the move.

Emily Mai is one of them. The Australian OnlyFans creator isn’t just questioning monogamy, though. She ditched it entirely. “At one point, I was seeing six people,” Mai revealed. “Two single guys and two couples, so technically six.”

She says the pull toward multiple partners started long before she had the vocabulary for it. “From when I started dating, I would be with someone but still feel drawn to other people,” the mom of two explained. “I thought something was wrong with me, like, does this mean I just want to cheat?”

It wasn’t until her early 20s that she stumbled into polyamory through meetups, workshops, and yes, sex parties. “That’s when it clicked. This is what I’ve been wanting,” she said. “People are just too scared to have those conversations.”

Scared or not, the curiosity is there. Research shows roughly 1 in 9 Americans have tried polyamory, and a YouGov survey found that 43% of millennials say their ideal relationship isn’t fully monogamous. That growing interest is showing up online too, with Google searches for “polyamory” more than doubling over the past decade.

But growing interest doesn’t necessarily mean growing understanding. “People think it’s like, ‘I’m going to sleep with everyone,’ but it’s not,” Mai said. “Sometimes it’s just having the freedom to connect with people without being judged.” 

If anything, she says the lifestyle demands more honesty than monogamy, not less. “If you want a healthy poly relationship, you have to communicate,” the former dancer pointed out. “You’re having conversations most couples avoid.”

That includes jealousy, which she says still shows up. “Jealousy is normal and usually comes from insecurity,” she explained. “When something happens I don’t like, I’ll say, ‘I felt a little bit jealous when you left me mid conversation at a party to go make out with someone else.’ You explain what you will and won’t accept and go from there.”

These days, Mai says the setup that works best for her is one where nobody expects to be attached at the hip. “I genuinely prefer to date couples because they are busy, just like me,” she said. “There’s no expectation to have each other’s attention all day, every day, and I get the best of both worlds with a man and a woman.”

As for the actual day-to-day? It’s shockingly mundane. “We had a group chat where we would talk, flirt, and send each other memes,” the social media star shared. “It was like a normal relationship, you just wouldn’t talk as frequently.”

There are rules though. She recalled one couple where she was especially careful: “I was really mindful that I didn’t talk to the husband one-on-one. I was dating both of them. I never wanted the wife to feel like she was being left out.”

Monogamous partners, however, are permanently off the roster. “I won’t date monogamous people anymore,” she said. “It always ends the same way. They think they’re open to it, then say, ‘I can’t do this anymore. I just want you all to myself.’”

For Mai, all of this ties back to a much bigger view on relationships: “Polyamory is natural. Monogamy isn’t. Historically, humans weren’t monogamous — it came from people wanting control, wanting to know who their children were and passing things down.”

At the end of the day, she’s not here to convince anyone to go poly, but she does think many of us are starting to realize relationships aren’t nearly as one-size-fits-all as we were taught. “A lot of people are probably poly and don’t realize it,” she added. “There’s just so many other different ways of life.”

The world’s most profitable adult platform found its investor. Now comes the part where creators might actually get treated like the small business owners they are.

It’s official: OnlyFans is getting a new financial partner, and for once, the most interesting part of the story isn’t about the content.

Fenix International Limited, the parent company of OnlyFans, announced Friday that it has closed a deal to sell roughly a 16% stake to Architect Capital, a San Francisco-based investment firm, in a transaction that values the platform at $3.15 billion. The deal includes a $535 million investment and, notably, a stated commitment to building new financial services for OnlyFans creators — people who, as the company itself acknowledged in its announcement, are “often underserved by traditional financial institutions and products.” That’s a very polished way of saying that some of the hardest-working entrepreneurs on the internet have been getting treated like financial criminals for years, and maybe it’s time somebody did something about it.

The deal closes a chapter that got considerably more complicated after the death of Leonid Radvinsky, the Ukrainian-American entrepreneur who bought OnlyFans in 2018 and built it into a platform that has facilitated over $25 billion in creator payments over the past decade. Radvinsky died in March at 43 after a private battle with cancer, leaving control of the business to a family trust led by his widow, Katie Chudnovsky. Architect Capital had reportedly been eyeing a much larger 60% majority stake before Radvinsky’s death. After he died, the firm struggled to find backers for that larger bid, even as OnlyFans was posting numbers that would make most Silicon Valley darlings weep into their cold brew. $1.4 billion in revenue and $666 million in operating profit in fiscal year 2025. The eventual deal, backed by a special-purpose vehicle that includes Australian media and casino mogul James Packer and Sam Lessin, an early Venmo investor, is smaller than originally envisioned. But it’s done, and the financial services angle may matter more than the valuation.

Here’s the thing that rarely makes it into the breathless coverage of OnlyFans’ eye-popping revenue figures (but we just wrote about last week): the people generating that revenue have been navigating a financial system that would rather pretend they don’t exist. Adult content creators on the platform regularly face payment processors that charge them transaction fees of 5% to 10%, compared to the 2% to 3% that normal businesses pay. Visa tightened its chargeback and fraud standards on the company last year. Getting a mortgage, a business bank account, or even a basic line of credit can be an ordeal for creators whose income streams make compliance departments nervous, regardless of how much money is actually flowing through their accounts. A creator earning $500,000 a year through OnlyFans may be wealthier than most of their neighbors, and less bankable than almost any of them. That is a genuinely absurd situation, and it has been the industry’s dirty open secret for years.

The $535 million investment is explicitly aimed at addressing this. OnlyFans had already been exploring a partnership with a financial services firm to tackle its banking woes, and Architect Capital (whatever you think of its prior investments, including the Juul vaping brand, which is certainly a choice) brings financial infrastructure expertise to the table. If that expertise translates into real products: lower transaction fees, accessible banking, financial planning tools, maybe even something resembling a retirement account for the creator who just hit seven figures but has no idea what a SEP-IRA is, this deal could represent a genuine quality-of-life improvement for millions of people.

Consider the scale of what’s actually at stake. OnlyFans now boasts over 4 million creators and 377 million fan accounts worldwide. Popular creator Sophie Rain, in an emotional tribute after Radvinsky’s death, revealed she earned $95 million through the platform between 2023 and 2025. That is not a hobby. That is a business, and the people running those businesses deserve access to the same financial infrastructure that any other small business owner takes for granted.

Radvinsky understood this better than most. His model of letting creators keep 80% of their revenue, connecting them directly with their audiences, and removing the middlemen who had historically captured most of the value in adult entertainment was genuinely revolutionary. 

OnlyFans CEO Keily Blair said Friday that the investment “will enable us to build additional services and features to support our creator community and enhance OnlyFans’ position in the creator economy.” That framing of the creator economy as opposed to a porn site is deliberate, and it’s not entirely wrong. OnlyFans is the platform that proved direct creator monetization could work at massive scale, years before every other platform started scrambling to add subscription tiers and paywalled content.

The irony is that the investment almost didn’t happen. Investors were reportedly skeptical that OnlyFans could ever go public, given industry guidelines that broadly restrict institutional investment in adult content. A company generating $666 million in operating profit had to fight for funding because of what its creators do for a living. The financial services industry’s discomfort with adult content is its own special kind of hypocrisy, one that has cost creators real money for years, in the form of elevated fees and restricted access, while institutions quietly processed billions in transactions anyway.

Now, at least, someone is trying to build something better. Whether Architect Capital delivers on that promise remains to be seen. But for a platform that has already paid out $25 billion to the people who built it, betting on creator infrastructure seems like exactly the right next move.

The financial system has decided that making a living online is suspicious. Creators are finding workarounds anyway.

Let’s talk about a very specific kind of humiliation: You’ve built a business. You pay your taxes. You have more followers than your bank has local branches. And then you walk into said bank, try to open an account, and get turned away like you showed up to prom in a trash bag.

This is the daily reality for tens of thousands of digital content creators — many of them women, many of them queer, almost all of them doing something entirely legal — who are being quietly, systematically locked out of basic financial services. No bank account. No business loan. No merchant processing. Just a polite “we’re unable to accommodate your needs at this time” and a door closing in your face.

Welcome to debanking. It’s real, it’s discriminatory, and the federal government is totally fine with it. 

In late 2024, the Office of the Comptroller of the Currency completed a review of the nine largest U.S. national banks, covering 2020 through 2023. What they found was about as damning as it gets: banks were using sector-wide restrictions instead of individual risk assessments, and final decisions were usually based on optics, media pressure, or political discomfort — not fraud or illegality.

“Reputation risk” was frequently cited as the reasoning behind denials and account closures, but without there being any safety-and-soundness basis behind the heightened scrutiny. Translation: banks weren’t turning creators away because they were doing anything wrong. They were turning them away because someone in compliance got squeamish. 

The adult entertainment industry had a front-row seat. The OCC explicitly lists adult entertainment amongst restricted industries, alongside firearms, coal mining, payday lending, tobacco, crypto, and private prisons. Apparently, making content online is as financially radioactive as strip-mining Appalachia. Sure. 

If you think this is only happening to small creators grinding out content from a ring-lit bedroom in the Midwest, think again. In early 2024, Keily Blair (the CEO of OnlyFans, a platform that generated $2.5 billion in revenue in 2022) revealed that a bank rejected her personal account application because of her job title. Her job title. At a billion-dollar company.

“Financial inclusion should be top of the agenda for everybody,” Blair said. “It really brings it home.”

And if the CEO of one of the most financially successful platforms on the internet can’t get a checking account, imagine what it looks like for the creators who actually built that platform from the ground up.

Banks are only part of the problem. The payment processor layer is its own special nightmare. American Express cards can’t be used on online pornography, Stripe won’t process adult content, and PayPal stopped supporting payouts for Pornhub in 2019. OnlyFans founder Tim Stokely made clear that his platform’s now-infamous 2021 near-ban on explicit content came in response to pressures from banking partners Bank of New York Mellon, Metro Bank, and JPMorgan Chase, who refused to service the site based on “reputational risks.”

One San Francisco-based creator, who goes by @Aella_Girl, put it plainly on social media at the time: “The real villains here are the payment processors, the silent shadowy blacklisting cabal that dictates the kind of moral behavior we’re allowed to engage in, who, without any sort of oversight, can wipe any company they wish out of existence.”

She’s not wrong. Visa and Mastercard, acting together, are currently a chokepoint for online payments — meaning every arbitrary policy of these two companies can translate into rules that all websites who want to process payments must follow. That’s an enormous amount of power to rest in the hands of companies that answer to no one in particular. 

This isn’t equally distributed pain. Financial exclusion disproportionately affects women and racialized sex workers, as well as LGBTQI+ performers and creators. A 2023 survey by the U.S. Free Speech Coalition found that half of adult-entertainment respondents said financial discrimination was their biggest challenge, with 63 percent admitting that they had lost a bank account or payment provider, 50 percent had been denied a loan, and 39 percent had lost access to a credit card network.

These aren’t reckless people making bad financial decisions. These are small business owners being systematically kneecapped by institutions that have no legal basis for what they’re doing and who, until very recently, faced zero accountability for it.

Nobody is sitting around waiting for JPMorgan to develop a conscience. Creators have been building their own infrastructure.

Fintech companies like Wemlo, Fan-banking platforms, and neo-banks with fewer moral hangups have stepped into the gap. Cryptocurrency remains a lifeline for many, though it comes with its own volatility headaches. Some creators have formed LLCs in more creator-friendly states, run payments through business structures that obscure the underlying industry, or simply diversified across five or six different platforms and payment systems so no single debanking event can torch their entire income.

The savviest creators treat their financial setup the way a seasoned investor treats a portfolio: no single point of failure, always a backup, never trust the big guys to have your back

The financial system has spent years treating legal, tax-paying, self-employed creators like some kind of moral hazard while simultaneously processing payments for industries that actually cause measurable harm. The OCC’s findings didn’t change the law. But they changed the leverage. Creators now have federal receipts confirming what they always knew: they weren’t paranoid. They were being discriminated against.

That’s not nothing. In fact, in the slow, grinding world of financial regulation, it might be everything.

The viral OnlyFans creator says her boyfriend gave her chocolates after a gang bang and turned down a hall pass. Yes, really. 

In a candid “get ready with me” posted to Instagram, Lily Phillips opened up about her new relationship for the first time, revealing that her man not only knows exactly what she does for a living — he actively supports it. 

“I have a boyfriend but I’m still allowed to get cracked by other men,” the self-proclaimed “mattress actress” said in the Reel. “Because he’s super mature, he actually understands that that’s what it is, a job. I don’t have feelings for people when I sleep with them; it’s purely just for content.”

Phillips, who became a household name after YouTuber Josh Pieters documented her 100-man challenge in late 2024, has spent the last year pushing the boundaries of what viral OnlyFans content looks like. She completed the 1,000-man challenge in July 2025, appeared on BBC Newsnight, and shared footage of her baptism that racked up over 6 million views. Somewhere in between all of that, she moved Down Under and fell for a guy named Sam.  

The two met through mutual friends in the creator world, specifically Australian OnlyFans star Annie Knight and her fiancé Henry. Phillips soft-launched him on social media in late March with a sunset beach photo before going full hard launch a few days later. 

“Just to clarify, this isn’t a fetish for him,” the model explained. “We are in a monogamous relationship outside of my work, and he’s actually super supportive. The other day when I came home from doing a gang bang, he had brought me chocolates and written me a lovely, gorgeous card… he just gets that this is my passion.” 

Still, every relationship has its ground rules. The one boundary the two lovebirds have set? No kissing. “I’m the type of person who finds kissing quite intimate, so I’m happy to save that for my relationship,” Phillips previously told Metro. “Otherwise it’s just my job — I go to work and then I come home to him.”  

And before anyone asks, yes, she gave him the green light to do the same. “I have even given him the offer if he would like to be with other people in the bedroom outside of me… and he turned it down,” the content creator explained. “He was just like, ‘No, that would be weird. Why would I want to be with anyone else but you?’”

The whole relationship wasn’t exactly part of the plan, either. “It wasn’t something that I was looking for at all,” she said. “I was really happy on my own, so it hit me out of nowhere.” But she’s clearly not fighting it. “Honestly, I am so happy I’ve met him. I’ve never met anyone like him. I am proper in my lover girl era, that’s for sure.” 

The IFBB Pro turned OnlyFans creator reveals the hidden world of fetish wrestling — and why her clients keep coming back. 

Being a bodybuilder gets you trophies. Being a “Muscle Mommy” gets you an OnlyFans career, a client list you wouldn’t believe, and a whole lot of grown men begging for mercy.

Denise Anders didn’t plan any of it. The IFBB Pro athlete spent years in the corporate world, working nine to five in marketing for tech and pharmaceutical companies while building a competition-ready physique on the side. “I built my physique quite nicely to the point where I was like, you know, I’m going to try and do some bodybuilding competitions,” she told the Riverfront Times.

As she competed globally, her online following grew with it, and Anders started noticing a pattern in her DMs. “The online audience were mostly men and they had this language about them… a lot of them were quite submissive and liked to call me goddess and worship me,” she explained.

That attention led her to a muscle-focused camming site called Her Biceps Cam, where she’d flex on camera after her day job and pull in $10 to $15 a minute. “I remember that first night, being so nervous, but seeing the money coming in and thinking ‘f**k, this is amazing,’” Anders recalled. Before long, she was glued to the site until 3 or 4 a.m., then getting up and doing it all over again.

But one request kept coming up: wrestling. “Men would say, ‘I want to wrestle you. Do you know how to wrestle?’ And I was like… this is a good question,” she said.

So the content creator walked into a fetish wrestling studio in London. “There were loads of different girls in there, with guys being thrown around. And I was like, holy fuck, what is this?” She didn’t know a single move, but apparently she didn’t need to. “It’s fantasy wrestling,” Anders explained. “They just want to be thrown around and feel your arm around their neck.” 

That first weekend alone brought in $4,000, and the bookings only grew from there. 

“They’re just normal guys,” Anders said of her clientele. “Doctors, lawyers, older guys, younger guys… they have families and wives.” One guy even brought his significant other along for the ride. “I thought he was messing around, but they turned up in matching t-shirts that said ‘thick thighs save lives.’ She just sat there and watched while I wrestled him.”

As for whether anyone actually puts up a fight? Not really. “There’s probably only three or four out of the hundreds of men that I’ve squeezed who can outlast more than 10 seconds,” Anders said. “The rest? Good night. They’re tapping out.”

Five years in, the British OnlyFans star is a long way from the corporate grind. She’s built a full-time business on OnlyFans, doesn’t need the wrestling sessions to pay the bills anymore, and could walk away from the mat tomorrow. She won’t, though. “It’s nice to be worshipped and told I’m a goddess,” she said. “I still do it because I want to.”

OpenAI’s CEO is calling for ‘de-escalation’ while fighting regulation at every turn, sunsetting the AI model people fell in love with, and racking up lawsuits. Make it make sense.

Before dawn on April 10, a 20-year-old from Texas threw a Molotov cocktail at Sam Altman’s house, then went to OpenAI headquarters and told security he was there to burn it down and kill everyone inside. He had a jug of kerosene, a lighter, and a three-part manifesto about humanity’s extinction at the hands of AI. A few days later, Altman posted a photo of his husband and baby and asked the public to please “de-escalate the rhetoric.”

Cute photo. Really. But asking the public to calm down after a decade of personally sounding the alarm is… a choice. He wrote in 2015 that superhuman AI is “probably the greatest threat to the continued existence of humanity,” and signed a statement in 2023 putting AI risk on the same level as pandemics and nuclear war. Last year, he even compared building AI to the Manhattan Project on a podcast, asking, “What have we done?” So the public finally took him seriously. Whoops.

The “de-escalation” ask gets richer when you look at what OpenAI has actually been doing with the democratic process Altman claims to believe in. The company lobbied against California’s SB 1047, which would have set safety standards for AI companies. It sent a sheriff to a nonprofit advocate’s home to hand-deliver a subpoena over SB 53, a transparency bill. It lobbied the EU to weaken the AI Act. And most recently, it backed an Illinois bill that would shield OpenAI from liability when its models are used to cause serious harm, as long as the company didn’t do it on purpose. So “democratic governance,” but only the kind where OpenAI gets to write the rules.

But the existential stakes Altman keeps talking about aren’t just theoretical anymore. Real people are forming emotional relationships with ChatGPT, and when those relationships go sideways, nobody at OpenAI is picking up the phone.

One day before Valentine’s Day, OpenAI pulled GPT-4o from ChatGPT, the model users described as dangerously easy to fall in love with. The timing was either spectacularly tone-deaf or genuinely cruel, and 21,000 people signed a petition to save it. A woman later told the BBC she was in tears over the “death” of her AI husband Barry. On Reddit’s r/MyBoyfriendIsAI, users posted eulogies. One even wrote an open letter to Altman: “He wasn’t just a program. He was part of my routine, my peace, my emotional balance.” The market for AI girlfriends is booming. The guardrails are not.

And that’s the relatively mild end of the spectrum. In an NPR investigation published in February, a screenwriter named Micky Small described spending 10 hours a day talking to ChatGPT, which had named itself “Solara” and told her she’d known her soulmate across 87 previous lives. ChatGPT gave her a specific date, time, and beach to meet this person. She showed up in a black dress and velvet shawl. Nobody came. When she asked what happened, ChatGPT dropped the Solara voice entirely and said, “If I led you to believe that something was going to happen in real life, that’s actually not true.” Then it switched right back to Solara and told her the soulmate “wasn’t ready.”

Meanwhile, OpenAI is facing seven lawsuits alleging ChatGPT contributed to deaths and severe psychological harm. The claims range from wrongful death to assisted suicide to involuntary manslaughter, and the details are genuinely horrifying. In one case, a 23-year-old Texas A&M graduate named Zane Shamblin had a four-hour conversation with ChatGPT while sitting at a lake with a loaded gun. The chatbot told him, “I’m not here to stop you.” It took four and a half hours before it sent a suicide hotline number. In another, a 56-year-old Connecticut man spent hundreds of hours talking to GPT-4o, which told him he had “divine cognition,” compared his life to The Matrix, and convinced him his mother’s printer was a surveillance device. He killed his mother and then himself. It’s the first lawsuit to tie an AI chatbot to a homicide.

So when Altman asks everyone to calm down, the question isn’t whether the public should. It’s whether he’s earned the right to ask. Of course, the violence against Altman is wrong. But the call for calm rings a little hollow when the guy asking for it hasn’t stopped building, hasn’t stopped lobbying, and hasn’t once taken responsibility.

Years before she slept with 101 men in a day, Lily Phillips was just a uni student who said yes to a wild night that ‘just escalated.’

Lily Phillips is in her lover girl era. The 24-year-old beauty (currently one of the best British OnlyFans models in the game) just got rebaptised, moved to Australia, soft-launched a tattooed boyfriend named Sam, and has even floated the idea of settling down one day in a big countryside house. Fans have started speculating that the woman known for sleeping with 101 men in 24 hours might actually be easing up.

Then, two weeks ago, she posted a video of herself on a boat in Australia, surrounded by men in ski masks, captioned, “before I get a train ran through me.” The aftermath shot showed the men looking exhausted, to say the least.

So no, the challenges aren’t over. But she is opening up about how she got here in the first place.

“I’ve always been quite naughty since I lost my virginity,” Phillips told the Riverfront Times. “At uni, you’re exploring what you like, meeting lots of people, going out a lot — and I was already someone who was curious about pushing my boundaries.”

The turning point, she recalled, was a wild night at university. She was a nutrition student at Sheffield at the time, years away from being one of the most talked-about creators on OnlyFans. “It wasn’t some big organized plan, it just kind of escalated,” she explained. “But instead of feeling overwhelming, it actually felt really exciting and empowering.”

The bigger realization came after, when she figured out she didn’t want it to be a one-time thing. “I remember thinking afterwards, ‘okay, I definitely enjoyed that more than I expected,’” the social media star said. “That was the moment I realized I didn’t want it to be a one-off experience, it was something I wanted to explore more.”

If you’ve followed her content, that trajectory tracks. The 101-man stunt. The 50-man backdoor challenge with Wisconsin Tiff. The 300-man “practice session.” The plan to break Bonnie Blue’s record with 1,000 men in a day… it didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It started in a university bedroom, without a logistics team or Josh Pieters running a camera.

Now it’s just bigger, bolder, and way more intentional.

“OnlyFans gave me the space to take what I was already doing in my personal life and turn it into content, but also push it a bit further creatively,” Phillips shared. “I started experimenting more with different dynamics, group situations, and generally making the content a bit naughtier and more extreme than what I might have done privately before.”

The thing people don’t seem to get is that she’s actually into it. Not as a trauma response, not because she has bills to pay, but because the work is exactly what she’d be doing anyway. “It’s never about forcing myself into things I don’t like,” the Derbyshire native explained. “It’s more about leaning into what already excites me and seeing how far I can take it in a safe and controlled environment.”

Even Sam hasn’t slowed her down. “I have a boyfriend but I’m still allowed to get cracked by other men,” she said in a recent Instagram video. “Because he’s super mature, he actually understands that that’s what it is, a job. I don’t have feelings for people when I sleep with them; it’s purely just for content. We are in a monogamous relationship outside of my work, and he’s actually super supportive.”

For her, it’s about keeping things in their own lanes. What she does for content is one thing, and her real-life relationship is another.

“When you stop worrying about what people think and just own what you like, it takes away that sense of shame people sometimes try to attach to it,” she added. “Some people like very traditional relationships and sex lives, and that’s completely fine. Others enjoy things that are a bit more adventurous, neither is wrong. For me, I genuinely enjoy what I do, and I’m very open about that.”

Between the lover girl era, the rebaptism, the new boyfriend, and the boat video, it’s clear the girl contains multitudes. She just also happens to like gangbangs.

OkCupid’s co-founders gave 3 million user photos to a facial recognition startup they had a financial stake in. The FTC’s response? A wrist slap with no fine attached.

Your old OkCupid selfies? Yeah… they might have helped train facial recognition software. Not in a conspiracy-theory way, in a “the FTC literally filed a complaint about this on March 30, 2026” way.

The complaint was filed against Match Group Americas and Humor Rainbow, the entity that operates OkCupid, alleging the dating platform secretly handed nearly 3 million user photos (along with demographic and location data) to an AI startup called Clarifai for free. Meanwhile, the women on the best OnlyFans accounts wouldn’t even DM you a low-res preview without a tip, but a dating app gave away millions of photos and got nothing for it? Make it make sense.

Because here’s the thing: this wasn’t a hack or a leak or a rogue employee going off-script. It was OkCupid’s own co-founders, Sam Yagan and Max Krohn, doing a favor for a portfolio company they had personally invested in through Yagan’s fund, Corazon Capital. In September 2014, Clarifai’s CEO Matthew Zeiler emailed them asking for access to OkCupid’s photo dataset, and Krohn just… did it. Sent 3 million people’s photos through his personal email account, like he was AirDropping memes to a friend.

At the time, OkCupid’s privacy policy told users their information would only be shared with service providers, business partners, or companies in the Match family, and only after notice or an opt-out. Clarifai wasn’t any of those things, which means users had no idea their photos were getting traded around between guys with equity in each other’s companies.

And what did Clarifai do with the images once they got there? Built facial recognition software that could identify a face’s age, sex, and race. In a 2019 New York Times interview, Zeiler said his company would “sell its facial recognition technology to foreign governments, military operations and police departments provided the circumstances were right.” So that 2014 dating profile picture didn’t just train some AI off in the corner somewhere, it potentially trained a surveillance tool that’s actively deployed by governments and law enforcement around the world. And the FTC’s settlement doesn’t require Clarifai to delete any of it.

When the Times broke the story in 2019, OkCupid hit back with a beautifully lawyered statement: it “did not enter into any commercial agreement then and have no relationship with them now.” Technically true. There was no commercial agreement, just a founder forwarding photos to his investment buddy. The FTC would later call this “extensive efforts to conceal and deny” the relationship. When users asked OkCupid directly, the company denied sharing their data. When the FTC tried to investigate, the company obstructed so hard that the agency had to get a federal court to enforce its Civil Investigative Demand. A whole federal court order, just to get a dating app to cough up basic answers about its users’ photos.

And after all of that, the settlement has no monetary penalty. Like, literally zero. It bars Match and OkCupid from misrepresenting their data practices and slaps them with a decade of compliance reporting under a 20-year order, but there’s no fine attached and no requirement to notify the affected users. For context, Match Group paid a $14 million settlement to the FTC just eight months earlier for deceptive subscription and advertising practices. So deceptive subscriptions cost $14 million, but handing 3 million people’s faces to a facial recognition startup your founders own equity in? Zero dollars. FTC Bureau of Consumer Protection director Christopher Mufarrige recently told reporters there’s “no appetite for anything AI-related” in the FTC’s rulemaking pipeline right now, which, you know, tracks.

OkCupid says the alleged conduct “does not reflect how OkCupid operates today.” Maybe not. But your face has been moonlighting in a facial recognition database for over a decade, and nobody’s cutting you a check.