#and some more input from the system

[fairsweetlonging]

system wardrobe malfunctions and small scenario pushers: exteme edition au

after his qi deviation, shen qingqiu starts working on slowly building up relations with his fellow peak lords and disciples; saving liu qingge in the caves, spoiling luo binghe rotten, freely praising his students, inviting the sect leader over for tea, he's a whole new person!

and yet... his friendliness levels aren't going up.

he knows it's a bit icky to judge his relations with other people based on numbers an alien entity is giving him, but he needs them to survive, and he swears that once he's above a certain threshold (somewhere between "civil" and "friendly", he figures), he will mute every and all notifications regarding it.

but they're just not going up. since his deviation he's at least managed to claw his way from "hostile" to "tolerant" with most of them, but some are somehow still stuck in the "aloof" section! they wouldn't even care if he died!

he just doesn't know what he's doing wrong; he understands these things take time, but it feels so bad when people refuse to sit next to him or sigh when they're assigned a mission with him, especially since it's not his fault.

now, it so happens that, one day, the system hears his woes and takes pity on him.

【 user seems to experience difficulty increasing character favor levels 】

you could say that

【 would host like to utilize our special deluxe package to activate 'The Path of Blossoming Hearts and Unspoken Affections' free of charge? ₊˚⊹♡ 】

though shen qingqiu isn't trustful of the system's antics, he can't deny that so far they have helped him well enough, and since it's free of charge with no penalties, wouldn't it be a waste not to use it? the title is a bit dubious, but was the original shen qingqiu not known for his frozen heart? for never sparing a single nice word to anyone? this could be his chance to let it blossom without the system nagging on his characterization.

【 accept optional mission? [yes]/[no] 】

he picks [yes].

two weeks later, he wishes he hadn't.

the package is devided into small scenarios that mostly appear at random, ranging from small dialogue challenges where he has to pick the right option (he really doesn't like those, the dehumanization of it makes his skin crawl), to the equivalent of two rivals getting locked in a room together.

the first few scenarios are minor and not very impactful, to the point where he's finished three of them and his favor count with qi qingqi has increased a whopping +2 (still "aloof") and that of wei qingwei +5 (still "tolerant").

his fourth scenario, however, reminds him of exactly why he should never accept gifts from strange screens floating in the sky.

he's on a nighthunt with liu qingge to slay a mirebeast that's been terrorizing travelers—an amphibious creature with thick, slimy skin, a crocodile tail and a leech-like mouth that shoots mucus when threatened... and shooting mucus it did.

while his clothes can easily be cleaned with a cleaning talisman, he never feels truly clean himself unless he actually bathes. luckily, there's a beautiful, glass-like pond nearby that's surrounded by natural demonic-repellent vegetation, a win! he's just draped his clothes over a nearby branch and submerged himself in the water, when the system rings out.

【 heads up! small scenario "Stolen Silks and Sunlit Waters" is about to begin! penalty: none. wishing user good luck (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) 】

hold up—stolen what.

stolen silks. his silks. stolen by a mossy-jade stag that happens to scratch its huge antles on the exact tree he hung his clothes on, which rattles the branch and causes his robes to fall exactly onto its head, spooking it into a gallop as it disappears into the forest.

how. how does that even happen.

shen qingqiu is just about to get out of the water when of course liu qingge chooses that exact moment to stomp into the glade looking for him, even though he should have been miles away to the village to ensure the people the beast is dead.

for anyone looking in from the outside, it's not a bad picture: shen qingqiu, with his hair pulled up and away from his slender neck, submerged to his (very bare!) pale shoulders in golden sunlit waters, surrounded by lotus flowers and lily pads. to liu qingge, this must be a terrible view, apparently—shen qingqiu can think of no other reason that would cause his face to flush so bright red.

liu qingge tosses his outer robe on the grass between them and turns resolutely around. it's only a bit insulting—is shen qingqiu not pretty enough to try and sneak a look at? even just a glimpse? meanwhile liu qingge is trying really hard to mentally recite the ethics sutra to not fixate on the sound of shen qingqiu getting out of the water (naked!!) or the rustle of fabrics as he wraps liu qingge's robe around his (naked!!!!) body. when liu qingge turns around he flushes an even darker shade as he sees shen qingqiu's bare legs and feet sticking out from under the robes.

"thanking shidi," says shen qingqiu, who notices none of this, as he pulls the robe a little closer around him, "for coming to this one's untimely rescue."

liu qingge grunts, turns, and walks away.

【 congratulations! liu qingge's favor increased. character satisfaction points +50. please continue to work hard! 】

shut up

【 ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა 】

they return to the sect victorious, but very embarrassed. the mirebeast gets all the blame. where his clothes are? well—uh, gone. the mucus dissolved them. yes he knows that's not how mucus works but it did this time okay?!!

yue qingyuan acts a bit strange seeing shen qingqiu wearing liu qingge's outer robes. he almost qi deviates when he finds out his shidi is wearing absolutely nothing under it. it's all very dramatic. apparently the sect is made up of people who shower with their clothes on or something.

【 ⁺‧₊˚bonus scenario!!˚₊‧⁺˖ interactive dialog quest: pick the best suited options to win additional favor points! 】

i don't like where this is going

"shidi?" yue qingyuan asks, looking at him with those big worried puppy eyes.

【 choice A: (demure) this shidi is cold. will you not invite me in at least?

choice B: what are you looking at?! mind your own business stupid old man!

choice C: i'm in love with liu qingge 】

WHAT

if he was drinking tea he would have spat it out, and then coughed himself to death. what the hell kind of options are these!!

【 system has based these options on what will earn (or lose!) user the most points. please pick one. 】

[ admin notes: option A will earn +60 points. option B will neither increase nor decrease points. option C will decrease -100 satisfaction points and increase +200 heartbreak points ]

shen qingqiu silently curses the system. option B is way out of line, even for the original shen qingqiu, who probably would insult yue qingyuan, but not with so little class. he doesn't even consider option C an actual option. and, well, he is cold. and wet. and almost naked. he would like a warm bath and some clothes. A it is then.

he doesn't like the way yue qingyuan's face light up when he grits out the dialog.

【 congratulations! yue qingyuan's favor increased. character satisfaction points +60! keep up the good work! 】

he can't keep doing this much longer.

unfortunately, he does have to keep doing this for much longer.

he's just about to go to bed when someone knocks on the door. luo binghe is already sleeping so he goes himself. just as he's about to open the door the system rings out—but it's too late.

shen yuan is used to wearing old tshirts to bed and no pants (he hates the feeling of his legs being restricted while he sleeps), so he doesn't really care when the only equivalent of this in pidw is a silk nightgown. his mother wore them, his sister wore them. hell, one of his brothers once bought one for fun and ended up using it for months. it's florally embroidered with puffy sleeves and reaches to his knees, that's decent enough, right?

【 heads up! small scenario "Dreamy Encounters at Dusk" is about to begin! good luck! 】

he has no idea what that's supposed to mean and he doesn't care. he opens the door, and it's mu qingfang. not... that unusual, but still.

"can this master help you?"

it takes mu qingfang a moment to remember what he's here for, it seems, because he stares at shen qingqiu for a good few seconds before raising an eyebrow like he's caught him doing something wrong.

"does shen-shixiong always answer the door like this?"

shen qingqiu glares back. "only when unsolicited guests come stumbling around my porch in the middle of the night."

"fair enough."

apparently he's here on behalf of yue qingyuan, who had asked him to do a post mission check up as soon as he was available, which is now. which yue qingyuan had apparently forgotten to relay to shen qingqiu himself. awesome.

he invites mu qingfang in (he can hardly close the door on him, it's late for him too!), and sits through the usual poking and prodding.

the system is prodding, too.

【 would user like some advice on how to maximize point earning? 】

no

【 ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀) system is only trying to help!! 】

i really don't need your help with this, thanks. i can keep a conversation on my own.

【 optional system booster: not mandatory. user may choose to decline this quest.

option 1: this one appreciates your care. the hardship is... unexpected. (look away shyly). i find it difficult to accept help sometimes, even when i need it.

option 2: i'm in love with you.

option 3: stand up and pretend to faint into his arms 】

shen qingqiu is about to spit blood—what the HELL is this!!! why do all your options make you look bipolar HUH??? and what's this about professing my love to people?!! why is that always an option??! this isn't a dating simulator, stupid system, they'll think i'm crazy!

【 all these options result in an increase of character satisfaction points (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 】

HOW

【 (ó﹏ò｡) user seems misinformed about character preferences. [mu qingfang] likes to take care of people! 】

... i decline the quest. booster. whatever. i'll figure it out myself. and stop talking about him like he's some one dimensional character!

they hear stumbling coming from the little side room, then the creaking of floorboards. binghe peeks through the door, hair sleep-ruffled and his robes pulled on over his sleeping clothes.

"shizun?" he asks, worried, "what's wrong? why is mu-shishu here?"

【 ⁺‧₊˚bonus scenario!!˚₊‧⁺˖ interactive dialog quest: pick the best suited options to win additional favor points! 】

oh god, not again.

【 option A: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. go back to sleep.

option B: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. (invite him to sit next to you during the examination)

option C: (gently) nothing is wrong, binghe. this master is alright. mu-shidi is just keeping me company tonight. 】

huh. so you can give meaningful options that i would actually consider picking?

【 ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜ 】

[admin notes: option A will decrease -100 points for luo binghe. option B will increase +20 points for luo binghe. option C will decrease -300 points for luo binghe, and increase +20 points for mu qingfang. option A & C increase luo binghe jealousy levels with 400 points].

[readingwriter92]

So just remembered today that I have the Lego Star Wars complete saga 2007 game. On my 360 and I’m extremely tempted to add that to my list of games to play this year. Bc I kinda wanna be a completionist

[wawhii]

Starting to really love being nonhuman and I think I might start properly embracing myself as part of the alterhuman community. I think I fall under the definition?

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN PT.3

Too tired to do my obligations, but too stressed out to sleep, so here we find ourselves again.

This, once again, got horribly long- so long, in fact, I think this is the longest post in this 'trilogy'-, so I apologize in advance (╥ᆺ╥;) I also apologize for the lack of doodles, but dont worry! Im preparing a special one for later <33

After that night where SY offered Binghe an umbrella, things have certainly… changed. Unlike before, where SY spent most of his time mapping away at the ridiculously complex castle hallways and carefully marking away which times it was most likely for SY to be able to get close to Xin Mo, alongside doing his ‘servant’ duties of gathering dirty laundry and cleaning a room here and there, his routine had been suddenly adjusted; now, while he still needed to do everything he was doing before, his servant duties consisted of accompanying the chosen Wife Of The Day.

Or, well, that’s how one of the higher ranking staff had put it, that he was to attend to whatever wife Lord Luo decided to entertain for the day, but honestly, SY was starting to suspect that that had been a convoluted way for Binghe to have SY around whenever he wanted, which…. Was frankly quite worrying! To have the golden protagonist keep his eyes glued on his back almost every second they were in the same room, which - if SY looked back- usually led to Binghe looking away in a (bad) attempt to pretend he wasn’t glaring daggers at SY was more than enough for SY to think the Emperor was probably plotting his demise.

What else could it be? Specially with the way Binghe’s hand seemed to always be lightly tugging at the tassel on his hair every time SY caught him looking, he suspects Binghe had caught onto SY not actually being a servant, and instead that weird guy he saw before he fell into hell that one time. What if Binghe thought SY was somehow involved into the Abyss Incident?? Lord Luo, please have mercy on this servant!

Though, maybe the strangest part of it all, was that sometimes Binghe and SY would just… talk. Usually when the Wife Of The Day was doing something else (e.g. playing music for her husband, or practicing archery, or doing anything that didn’t involve LBH 100% at her side), Binghe would just start musing out loud about the strangest things. It started with questions that were all fair to ask, like ‘How come this servant is a human in the demon realm’, or ‘How come this servant has such short hair’ (SY bullshitted something about being a former slave) but eventually it shifted to questions that were a bit more… random. Or, well, not even questions, musings that Binghe muttered out loud but clearly wanted SY’s input.

It started with minimal things, like Binghe wondering about some type of monster he wanted to fight but he forgot how to do it without damaging the fur too much, which, after a minute of silence and a not-so-subtle look at SY, led to SY nerding out and saying not only the monsters weakness, but what could be done with every important part of the body. Though, the day after that SY realized how strange it was that Binghe was wondering that out loud, since he only fought that monster well into his time as an Emperor, and he swore he remembered one of the wives gushing about her new bracelet that was made from the rare bones of that creature just a few days ago���

Anyways, it continued with questions of similar nature: musings on how to kill a monster Binghe would have no problem killing, to what he should eat for dinner, to what gift should he get for Wife Of The Day. Of course, SY answered all the ‘questions’, and sometimes they even made it to having an actual conversation! Sure, it was a little stilted, SY could not figure out for the life of him why the great Lord Luo was interacting with a random servant, but one day it all finally clicked to him. Binghe had been in the middle of ‘musing’ about hair oils(??), when SY couldn’t help but interrupt him:

“Ah…. Apologies if this lowly servant is overstepping, My Lord, but does My Lord just want someone to talk to?”

A few emotions flashed through Binghe's face quickly enough for SY to not be able to decifer any of them, but eventually landing on a sheepish smile. "This Lord has been found out."

Oh, how cute! And how sad! SY had noticed when SQH was just showing him his shitty story how sad that LBH, even after getting the world to bow at his feet, never really had friendships. Sure, he still had all the love he could want, but sometimes people need friends to talk to, not lovers!

While he knew that he shouldn't interact with characters in world overlooked by the System unless they were transmigrators, SY couldn't help but feel that the situation was dire enough that LBH would turn to a no-name servant in this time of desperation. And it would be a great opportunity to study Xin Mo more closely as well! If SY showed LBH the wonders of friendship, maybe he could pass by his supervisor that he only had to do what was necessary for this world to not implode on itself.

Besides, who could even say no to such a handsome man such as LBH? Is as the old saying goes: what the protagonist wants, he shall have.

*

SY's friendship plan has been going great! After figuring out Binghe's intentions, it seems all of the protagonists reservations flew out the window, and SY was now responsible for being Binghe's personal retainer. Not that that meant too much, since Binghe liked to bend the rules to his liking, and some tasks that should be SY's responsability sometimes were pushed to another servant or Binghe himself made them (which, ???)

Mostly, SY stood at Binghe's side, served tea, was used so Binghe could bounce ideas off of someone, and tended to finer details. All of that very much manageable, if not for the weird mood swings LBH would have sometimes. Yuan, as he has told Binghe was his name after being too scared of the repercutions of using 'Shen', was to accompany him all the time, but sometimes not all the time, or else LBH would get moody; Yuan was to listen to LBH's ideas and plans, and should always comment back or else Binghe would feel neglected, but not too much or else, as LBH had put it, could 'bring back bad memories'; Yuan was to tend to LBH's night routine, even as far as to brush his hair, and if he refused LBH (again) get all moody, but he couldn't brush too much, and he had to do at least one braid but NEVER touch the old, frizzy braid that still had that damn tassle-

Honestly, it was a careful game of balance, which reminded SY more often than not of a child that got mad when their older sibling didn't quite understand the redundant rules they made for a make-believe. Any other person would get fed up, and probably scared of Binghe's constant mood swings, but SY had him all figured out, and his resilience proved to be useful time and time again, since most of the time after his sour mood passed, Binghe would come crawling back with the most pitiful face ever, and what was SY to do? As LBH's friend, it was his duty to hug him and pat his head! (And no one could judge him for that, since if he didn't pat Binghe's head, his mood would plummet all over again.)

Though... SY did feel kind of bad. He wouldn't be able to stay with Binghe forever, and would even need to potentially steal his all-powerful sword for a little bit so everything wouldn't get corrupted. Honestly, the only thing keeping SY from worrying about being labled as a traitor and potentially getting killed was that he would just go back to the System's office and go on with his life.

*

LBH, eventually, caught onto SY's plan on leaving - really, it was only a matter of time. After that fateful encounter with that other SQQ, LBH had found himself in rather pitiful state, questioning everything he knew until that moment and wondering why he couldn't achieve that happiness, and desperately trying to search for a SQQ of his own. He had contemplated going back to that first world, but what would it even matter? Even if he took SQQ by force, his heart would still be with that other LBH, and Binghe couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't be everything in SQQ's world, as he had become for LBH.

Specially after Meng Mo had one day interupted his carefully crafted dream of an idelic world and pointed out some curious memories he'd almost forgotten about. That day, when back in his childhood, when he'd been beaten up by a buch of older kids and hallucinated a man in strange clothes before passing out and waking up protected from the rain. Or when he thought he'd lost his jade pendant forever, only to magically appear in the cabin later.

Or the strange man in the Immortal Alliance Conference.

After SQQ- SJ , that good-for-nothing scum- pushed him to the Abyss, he tried his best to never think about that day again, too scared by how weak he'd been, pleading to man that would sell his soul for one more night at that brothel of his if he could, but now... Now that he could mold his dreamscape any way he wanted, he could look back with a clear mind, which eventually led to the conclusion: It must have been the same person. The same strangely dressed man that helped him in his childhood somehow appeared at the Immortal Alliance again, and even had left provisions right next to where Binghe had fallen.

He'd convinced himself, after many, many years of wishing for a miracle, that he's simply imagined the man, one last thread to keep himself from going insane, but after meeting the other SQQ...

And then Yuan came in. A new servant that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

It took some observation, and a lot preparing himself to face dissapointment that maybe he was just projecting, putting the image of someone else onto a random man, but that day, when LBH was wondering if he was just wasting time, that that beautiful dream of having his version of SQQ would not happen any time in this world, that maybe he really should just go look at other worlds; after all, if it happened once, it had to happen again, right? Not that it mattered in the end, since while he spireled, much to Xin Mo's pleasure, an umbrella was put over his head, and all his doubts had washed away.

Yuan had to be his version of SQQ, it had to be. And after all his effort of getting close to him, after going so far to keep Yuan at his side, even if he still battled with that his perception of SJ and the other SQQ sometimes overlapping with Yuan's image, even if he still wasn't ready to let go of that one braid, he was becoming more and more sure in his assumption that his SQQ had come to him. Everything was going as planned, and LBH was in track to finally begin to properly court him, and yet-

He was sure Yuan wanted to leave. He wasn't sure why, not how he would do that, maybe just dissapear like he had all those years ago and either only appear again 5, 10, 100 years in the future or go back to wherever he came from in the first place. But LBH knew Yuan wanted to leave, that he needed to complete whatever mission he had (after LBH managed to pry that out of his dreams, which where another source of confusion, with how absurdly difficult they were to even get a grasp of), and that, under any circumstances, he could let Yuan escape his sight.

Not again. Never again.

Binghe had become even stickier in the last few weeks. Not that SY minded, it was very cute to see such a different side from the cool, badass Lord Luo, but SY was running out of time. Since Binghe became stickier, his mood swings had worsened even more, now not wanting SY to be anywhere that Binghe wasn't, and Xin Mo seemed to be thriving off of whatever was making Binghe extra protective, though it was becoming a genuine problem now, since Binghe suddenly refused to see any of his wive's to deal with the Xin Mo problem, and he seemed to be on the verge of qi deviation at all times.

In fact, the only reason Binghe hadn't already qi deviated was because SY was abusing his Personal System and chipping away at the qi deviation in Binghe's night routine, since it was the only time where he was physically very close to Binghe and could spend long periods of time manually coding away at the System screen without it looking suspicious.

But, as if that wasn't enough of a problem, since Xin Mo was having the time of it's life recently, the virus clinging to the sword was also getting stronger, leaving even more residuals all along the castle and bordering on infecting Binghe himself.

His Scissors where thankfully, repaired, and his sweet, sweet manager was even kind enough to send him some extra energy supplies, but at the rate the virus was spreading, he was worrying that he would have to deal with the source as soon as possible or else it would become to strong to deal with it in a non-destructive way.

He... Didn't want to leave Binghe just yet, specially since he wanted SY's attention more than ever recently, but...

No, he needed to do this; their time together was never supposed to be eternal anyways, and if he let the virus spread, he would only be putting LBH's life in danger, and he couldn't continue living with himself after that. He decided he would fix the virus at night, while Binghe slept, and by the next morning he would be gone - he would have, after all, just enough energy to go back to the office.

He just hoped Binghe would be able to forgive him later.

When night came, and SY got to doing the usual night preparations, it just felt like an extra needle being stabbed in his heart when, while brushing Binghe's hair, Binghe looks back uncharacteristicly anxious, and asks if SY can undo the braid and remake it. SY does, and if Binghe notices SY takes extra long to pamper him that night, he says nothing.

When SY is sure Binghe is asleep, he sneaks out of his room and heads to back to Binghe's. Yeah, maybe he stalls a bit with snipping off every piece of the residual virus he came across, but one could argue he was just being extra thorough with his job.

The excuse, unfortunately, didn't last long and eventually he found himself in front of Binghe's room, staring at the door as if he was about to be sentenced to death. After a few minutes of reminding himself that he needed to do this, he took a deep breath and slowly opened the doors. Binghe usually slept with the sword perched right beside his bed, so SY would probably have to use the System and put Binghe in an extra deep sleep if he wanted to make sure the other didn't wake-

The moment he places a foot inside, though, he realizes something is wrong; the room is empty, Binghe is not asleep in his bed and Xin Mo is not besides the bed. Oh, oh no, had Binghe-

"A-Yuan." Binghe says, and SY nearly jumps as he turns around. There LBH stands in the middle of the hallway, not even in his sleeping robes, with a hand clutched tightly on Xin Mo's handle. His eyes are watery but no tears spill.

SY tries to speak but finds he doesn't even know what to say, he can't even try to deny that he's up to something, since his gigantic Scissors are just out an about. Still, he tries to make Binghe understand, say that he needs to do this, and after this Binghe won't have to worry about anything anymore. Though it barely seems like Binghe is listening, and eventually just cuts in when SY starts to say anything in his panic.

"This is what A-Yuan wants, right?" He asks, extending one arm and presenting the glitched out Xin Mo. SY doesn't even have the chance to find an excuse, as Binghe immediately continues. "Than take it."

"Wh- Huh?" "Take it."

He's so shocked he almost drops his Scissors. What does he mean 'take it'??? Binghe has to know everything that's at stake here! He doesn't even know what SY wants to do with it! He tries to say that, how Binghe shouldn't just hand the sword to anyone like that, but a sudden burst of energy set his priorities straight. Shit- The virus! It's growing by the second, at this point SY will have to cut Xin Mo-

"...Binghe, I-" "I don't care what A-Yuan wants with Xin Mo! Take it, use it, break it if you want, I don't care! But if A-Yuan takes it, than he will have to stay." "Binghe, that's not..." "Why not?! That's your goal, right? Do whatever it is that you want to do with Xin Mo? Than here you go, A-Yuan can do it, but I won't let you leave me again."

SY can't even mask when his eyes dart towards the tassle on Binghe's new braid. Binghe just clenched his jaw, but it feels like confirmation enough.

He adjusts his grip on the Scissors, and, as he has nothing else to hide, dispels the System's illusion, his simple clothes glitching out to reveal the System's uniform. Binghe's eyes fill even more with tears, but none fall."

"I... I'll have to go back, Binghe." "No." "Binghe, listen to me, I-" "No. No! A-Yuan will get Xin Mo, and then he will stay." "I-" "You will stay! I can't-" Binghe can't even finish his sentence before he has to choke out a sob.

The virus starts warping the air around it, and slowly crawling up Binghe's arm. SY's decision has practically been made for him. He lifts the Scissors. Binghe pushes Xin Mo forward.

"...I'll come back." "A-Yuan-" "I'll come back, Binghe." One single tear falls and his arm jerks, not knowing if he trusts SY's words or not. He still his arm as the Scissor blades encircle Xin Mo.

"A-Yuan..." "I'll come back, I promise." "..." "I promise."

"......Okay."

Shen Yuan cuts Xin Mo.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Canonical enshittification

This is the Facebook playbook: you lure in publishers by promising them a traffic funnel ("post excerpts and links and we'll show them to people, including people who never asked to see them"), and then the rug-pull: "Post everything here, don't link to your own site. Become a commodity supplier to our platform. Abandon all your own ways of making money. Become entirely subject to the whims of our recommendation system."

Next will be: "We block links to other sites because they might be malicious."

Then some kind of "pivot to video."

Probably not video (though who knows?) but some other feature that a major rival has, which Twitter will attempt to defraud its captive, commodified suppliers into financing an entry into.

In case you were wondering, yes, this is canonical enshittification. Lure in business customers (publishers) by offering surpluses (algorithmic recommendation and an ensuing traffic funnel). Lock them in (by capturing their audience and blocking interop and logged-out reading).

Then rug the publishers, clawing back all the surpluses you gave them and more, draining them of all available capital and any margins they have, until they die or bite the bullet and leave.

I would also give good odds on this leading to a revivification of the "Pay us tens of thousands of dollars a month for a platinum checkmark and we'll actually show what you post to the people who asked to see it."

That will be pitched as the answer to publishers' complaints about not wanting to turn themselves into commodity Twitter inputs. It will be priced at the same (or more) as the revenues publishers expect to lose from being commodified, making it a wash.

All of this seems to me to be an "unfair and deceptive business practice" under Sec 5 of the FTC Act.

If I sign up to follow you because I want to see what you post, and Twitter shadowbans your posts unless they are formatted to maximize your dependence on Twitter, they have deceived me, and are being unfair to you.

This is *very* analogous to the Net Neutrality debate, where a platform blocks or deprioritizes the things its users ask to see, based on whether the suppliers of those things are its competitors.

I've written about how an end-to-end principle for social media could be enforced under Sec 5 of the FTCA, how it would address this kind of sleazy practice, how it would be easy to administer, and wouldn't form a barrier to entry for new market entrants:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

[badgertracksart]

Portfolio advice, from a lead who hires Concept Artists

(This was originally a twitter thread I wrote before the site self imolated, hense it's strange structure.) I wrote this after a weekend of portfolio reviews - 1. Like a maths exam, please please show your working. I want to see thumbs options, mid options and of course a final design.

2. Arrange your portfolio, I don't want to bounce about between subject matter and pipeline. Your portfolio's narrative should be as strong as your work... 3. Please make worlds that excite the viewer, make them want to go in and explore them, explain to them the interesting parts of the town, or the way the character's hat unfolds. How will this draw the viewer in? 4. As I've said before the majority of your project work is explanatory not mood, make sure your portfolio contains explanatory work. Explained here -

5. A lot of beautiful post apocolyptic paintings, , but 80% of realistic games and film, we just give the environment artists photo ref, they are capable artists in their own right. Different work in stylised where you do need to create rules for how things can be translated. 6. Production art contains call out sheets, material references and flat graphics. This doesn't have to be your final image, but it should support it.

7. Design characters on a swatch(es) of the environment they will be viewed in. Not on white. I make swatch backgrounds from screenshots, it avoids assumptions that damage readability. 8. Reverse of this, put people in your environments, show me the scale.

9. It's not a deal breaker for a review, but if you intend to get a job, please show me your work on a screen larger than a smartphone (print outs probably the cheapest option with the best battery life). 10. Please have your contact details clearly visible, and by that I mean email address, I will not pass your social media contact on, I cannot input your form into my tracking system. EMAIL ADDRESS emblazoned and bake it in, sometimes recruiters do funky stuff to pdfs

11. Your portfolio will never feel done, not to you anyway. You will have learnt from your latest pieces and want to apply it to older work. But we know art is a journey. Send your portfolio anyway. I've been in the industry 10+ years and my portfolio is still not 'finished'. 12. If you are applying to an environment centric Concept Art position then please vary your times of day! Golden hour is cool but show me some happy sunny days, looming overcast days, what about at night? Vary your weather too! Sunny snowy day? Rainy Spring day? Stormy night?

13. If you are applying for a character centric Concept Art role then please ensure your portfolio shows a variety of body types and ethnicities. 14. Designing characters for games? Please show back views and feet (!) Many potfolios contain only front views. This is a problem because:

You haven't shown you are considering the design from all angles.

In many games rear view is the main view.

Stop cropping feet.

15. If you are entry / graduating and looking at Portfolios to compare content and standard of yr own work too, look at hired grad/junior artists as opposed to seniors Seniors and leads often have old or personal work in their portfolio which isnt representative of the day job. 16a. Show clearly the intended use case for your Concept Art. Mention the game type in the description. Are these player character designs for a 3rd person adventure game? Then more back views please. Bonus points for diagetic ways of showing health / equipment / role etc.

16b. Are these designs for an FPS? Then really the player view of the gun needs to sell the player style/ choices, in an FPS your weapons are almost your character. Are these world designs? What's the view distance? For an RTS your shapes need to read from above & a distance. 16c. The lack of clarification means I am judging the design in isolation, which both harms the design (you might be considering the backview of a char as the main adventure character.) Or an NPC, their waist up expressions may be important for conveying exposition and mechanics.

16d. Concept art is not separate from gameplay, great concept art serves the game team before it is a good illustration.

17. Play games. A variety of games. Think about them. IMO to be a good concept artist you need to understand the common language & references used by your peers. Also understand the principles and common language your audience are used to. FPS design rules are v.diff from RTS.

18. There are many skills that are needed in concept art, please show them. For example: Graphic design - logos, liveries, typographic use etc. VFX concepts - Abilities, Ambience, motion concepts. Architectural knowledge - How buildings are built! & more but I'm out of space :O

[eternalsa2z]

Retraining

Ashton Inspirion was one of those guys who never got out. He lived in a different world…the virtual world. He was always gaming, tinkering with his computer, isolated from the rest of school.

Virtual learning suited him, so he signed up for a class called 'Retraining'. He thought it'd be an easy CS course, especially since it was filled with a bunch of ditzy Sigma Lambda Tau sorority girls. It was different that he expected. More of a virtual reality concept where he had to create and develop a model.

All the other girls in class were building hot bimbo models. So Ashton thought he'd try it. He built up his online wardrobe with pink, tight fitting clothes. Changed his hair to be long and blonde. Even discovered how to hack the NSFW settings and give himself the biggest set of fake tits and lips that seemed possible.

The other girls LOVED him for that and started sharing tips and tricks. Ashton had never had friends…let alone BFFs��and started to really get into the role. Spending more time in the game than any before. Really focusing on making 'Ashli' dim and ditzy and doll-like.

He found it easier the deeper it got into the system. Controlling his character using a full-body VR set built by SluTech that was a required part of the course. Using voice inputs to say 'Um' and 'Like' a lot for a valley-girl speech pattern. Walking with a wiggle and arms akimbo to get the perfect bimbo gait down. It became easier to develop Ashli by just being Ashli.

Little did the student know all-consuming the course really was. Outside the game, VR headset finally taken off her long blonde hair, Ashli 'AI' Insipid stared blankly at a screen. She was pretty sure she had logged out. But she was staring at her character. The plump, pouty pink lips. The cute pink top. The dumb ditzy look. Was this the game…or real life?

The truth was too much for the dumbed down doll to process. The virtual model was a role model for how she transformed. Her big fake tits were now real. She had been reprogrammed, turned into her perfect image.

Even if she could comprehend the changes, it didn't matter. All Ashli cared about was that she was late to meet her BFFs! So instead of slipping on the headset, she slipped on a cute skirt and some stripper heels, and trotted over to SLT with a wiggle and a giggle. Just like she had been retrained.

[celestialwonders]

cohabitate

an enha hyung line abo series

genre: abo smut series (MDNI)

pairing: reverse harem!hyung line x omega!afab reader

series synopsis: your desperation for a place to stay turns into desperation for your tantalizing roommates.

wc: 2.5k+ (2827 words)

a/n: its hereeeee finally~ no smut tags bc theres none in this but there will be for the rest of the parts mwahaha im so excited to be setting up this series! hopefully this prologue lets you get to know our MC and the boys’ dynamics :3 as always, feedback and input is greatly appreciated! much much love to my freakpen wives for their help and support <3

prologue: move-in day

“Room for rent. Furnished room. Access to a full kitchen. Shared bathroom.”

You read over the crinkled flyer in your hand as you dial the number at the bottom of the page, looking back over the shoddy photographs of a kitchen, room, and the exterior of a two-story house. The phone rings twice before you hear the other line pick up.

“Hello? Is this.. Sunoo?” You hear some shuffling and whispered scolds before hearing someone clear their throat.

“Yeah, hi! Are you calling about the room for rent?” A cheerful but hurried voice sounds through your phone’s speaker as you shove the flyer back into your jeans pocket, readjusting your backpack strap as you lean against the corkboard covered in various flyers and signs.

The forwardness from Sunoo jolts you, but you regain composure to answer, feeling rushed to confirm your interest as you hear him give another hushed command to whoever is with him.

“Yeah, actually. If the spot is still available, I’d like to take it right away.”

There’s a concerning silence on the other end as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I can pay for the first month's rent today… if that helps.” You add on with a hint of desperation.

There’s more shuffling, and then you hear a door slam on the other end of the call. You anxiously await a response, looking over the other flyers for a possible plan B.

“Are you sure you don’t want to at least come see the place before jumping into the lease?” Sunoo cautiously questions.

“Not really? From the photo on the flyer, everything looks nice, and, to be honest, I just really need a place to stay this semester.” You sigh as your words hit as a reminder of how you came to this desperate state.

“My old roommates fucked with our lease agreement, and of course, I got the short end of the stick. I swear I’m good for my money and being a decent roommate.” You continue, letting out an empty laugh, hoping you’ve convinced your potential housemate enough.

“Well… I guess I’ll have to hold you to that new roomie!” Sunoo’s previously hesitant tone was replaced with a welcoming one.

You sighed in relief as you exchanged full names and numbers, and Sunoo forwarded you the address for the house.

In a blink, you find yourself exiting your Uber, two extra large suitcases trailing after you as you approach your seemingly quaint and inviting home-to-be.

The red front door swings open as a boy with soft pink hair comes bounding down the walkway.

“Hey, you! Glad you found your way here. Let me help you with that.” The boy, who you’ve now concluded must be Sunoo by the sound of his voice, grabs the suitcases from your hands, and you adjust the strap on your backpack, following his lead into the house.

When you get inside, you take in your new home, a well-loved, lived-in space that’s been minimally decorated to suit a college-aged budget.

A white shelf with a collection of books, lego figures, records, and other random decor catches your eye as you step further into the living room.

You see a small pile of random pillows and blankets strewn about the room, noticing the flat-screen TV with a tangle of wires attached to various gaming systems.

Sunoo brings your suitcases to the bottom of the stairs with a slight huff.

“Don’t mind the mess. I’m sure you know how boys can be.” You turn to Sunoo as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing a kitchen towel to throw over the sink full of dirty dishes.

“Boys? I thought this would be a co-ed house…” you trail off, tightening your grip on your backpack strap as you inhale deeply, holding your breath for his reply.

“Well… it’s co-ed now!” Sunoo giggles as he grabs a soda from the fridge covered in magnets and random photos of who you can only assume are your future roommates.

The photos are all poorly lit shots of blurry figures, most of them from a party or outdoor gathering of some kind, but a particularly bright one catches your eye.

The photo has a group of four tall men in baseball uniforms between three other men dressed casually, all throwing up an assortment of peace signs and thumbs up smilingly widely.

You find yourself moving closer to the fridge, taking in the faces of the men as you finally process the potent scent you inhaled. Alphas.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, I hope.” Sunoo ducks his face in front of yours, blocking you from inspecting the photos further.

You take a step back before composing yourself, hoping Sunoo doesn’t see the shock going through your body right now.

“N-no problem at all! I should go settle myself in my room.”

You begin to turn down the hall, swiftly grabbing your suitcases, as Sunoo calls out behind you. “Your’s is right next to mine on the left. The rest will be home soon, and we can do dinner together.”

You close the door to your new room and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Quickly, you remove your backpack and reach for your suppressants.

“Fuck.” You sigh out, registering the emptiness of the pill bottle that shakes with maybe two left.

You deducted that you’ll have to get a new prescription… maybe an even stronger dosage if there are multiple alphas that live here. Though the change of address may give you some trouble with paperwork, that’s an issue you’ll have to worry about later.

You push yourself off the bedroom wall and take in the room that’s been prepped with a standard full-size bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser.

Begrudgingly, you begin unpacking and settling yourself into your new habitat.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You wipe a bead of sweat off your brow as you land on your bed with a thud, having finally deep-cleaned and put away all your belongings, being sure to put up your trinkets and posters with care.

Before you can let yourself rest, your eyes shoot open at the sound of the front door swinging open and multiple voices overlapping.

Your t-shirt slightly clings to your back as you sit up and instinctually pull your hair out of the messy ponytail it was in.

The scent coming off of the group reaches you before you actually see them, having made your way down the hall and to where the group had gathered.

Thankful for taking your suppressants, you nearly trip over a pile of baseball bags and equipment at the kitchen entrance.

“Oh, and there she is now! How’s the room?” Sunoo lights up as you enter, but you can’t ignore the feeling of all eyes shifting on you as you move into the empty space next to Sunoo.

“It’s great… thank you…” You manage to squeak out, avoiding the eyes of the strangers around you as you attempt to pull down your athletic shorts.

“Don’t be shy, introduce yourself! We’ll all be seeing a lot of each other after all.” Sunoo chimes out, bumping your side with encouragement.

You timidly introduce yourself and finally look up to the group before you, looking up and catching eyes with a brightly smiling boy around Sunoo’s height.

“Hi! I’m Jungwon. I’m a beta and a Sophomore in Biology with a focus on species studies.” He steps forward and extends his hand for a shake, which you gratefully accept.

You mentally thank the universe that there’s more than just Alphas in this house as you take in his friendly face.

The next person to approach you has dark hair with chunky blonde highlights and is much taller than Jungwon as he stands beside the shorter boy.

In fact, he stands above the whole group as he begins his own introduction, slightly bending over to make himself a bit smaller and catch your eyes.

“Hi. I’m Ni-ki. I’m a Freshman. Just presented as an Alpha before coming to college.” He straightens his posture and smugly brushes his hair back, checking your face for reaction. He drops the smug act in response to your blank face before continuing.

“I’m undecided in terms of a major, but I’m the pitcher for the baseball team on campus, if you couldn’t tell.” He gestures down to the grass-stained baseball pants that he and a few of the other boys are wearing. “Do you play any sports?”

Despite his intimidating aura, Ni-ki gives you a kiddish smile, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Oh. I think my mom had put me in soccer as a kid, but I wasn’t any good. I’m better as an observer than a player.” You admitted as you gave a comforting pat on his shoulder in apology.

His shoulders drop slightly, and a slight pout forms on his lips. “Ah, that’s too bad.”

The other boys start shifting around the kitchen, falling into a rhythm of pulling out ingredients and prepping pans.

Ni-ki and Jungwon silently dismiss themselves when one of the other boys gives them a sharp glance as he washes his hands at the, now empty, kitchen sink.

You silently watch the two of them start to work on cutting some greens, quietly bickering about who is going to cut what.

Sunoo hooks your elbow and pulls you aside to one of the taller boys who had made his way to the stove, his jet-black hair falling forward as he checks on the boiling water.

Sunoo clears his throat to catch his attention, making the boy straighten to face you.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Sunghoon. I’m a junior in Bio and lead research with Jungwon. I’m an Alpha.” He says the last part with an amused smirk painted on his face as if he already knew of your apprehension.

He doesn’t bother extending a handshake and instead looks at Sunoo as if to ask ‘Happy?’ before returning to measuring out a portion of dry spaghetti noodles.

“Don’t mind him, I swear he can be friendly.” Sunoo whispers as he pulls you to the other side of the stove, where another boy is working on picking out spices from the cabinet.

“Yo, where’s the oregano?” He asks as his eyes still scan the shelves, his back still facing you.

“It’s wherever Jake left it after his last ramen recipe experiment.” Sunoo rolls his eyes, turning his and your attention to another boy sitting at the dinner table, scrolling on his phone.

His head snaps at the mention of his name, a guilty look painting his face as he slides his phone into his pocket.

“Oh yeah, about that… we need to buy more.” He rises from his seat and playfully slaps the shoulders of the boy at the cabinet.

“Don’t worry though, Jay! You can just replace it with something else like…” He draws out the last syllable and looks over the boy’s shoulder at the available spices.

“Like this!” He reaches out and presents a large spice bottle.

“I’m not putting nutmeg in the spaghetti sauce, you idiot.” The tan boy you’ve deducted is Jay, who swipes the bottle from Jake’s hand and puts it back on the spice rack.

He gives Jake a shoulder bump and returns to the counter, starting to combine his selected spices.

“Jeez, just don’t say I didn’t try to help!” Jake rolls his eyes and brings his attention towards you.

“Hi, officially. I’m Jake!” He eagerly takes your hand and shakes it rapidly, your whole arm feeling like it will be ripped off from his excitement.

“I’m the catcher for our baseball team, 'cause you know, I’m a catch. And I’m an officer of Theta Mu. I’m sure you’ve heard of us.” He gives you a coy wink.

“Oh! And I guess I should mention my major.” He laughs to himself and rubs the back of his neck.

“I’m in Computer Science. It’s my third year, so I’m gearing up to get an internship soon. If you know of any openings, help a guy out.” He lightheartedly punches your shoulder, surprising you with his quick friendliness.

Sunoo interrupts Jake’s monologue, covering his mouth playfully and giving you an apologetic smile. “Long story short, Jake’s a beta and a total blabbermouth. Whatever you do, do not let him rope you into one of his tabling events for his frat.”

You laugh as Jay starts to brown the meat; the aromatic smell and sound of sizzling help drown out any last worries you have about your new roommates.

Maybe it won’t be so bad; everyone seems pretty tame.

You subconsciously count the number of heads in the room, realizing that there is one missing from the photo that previously caught your attention.

“Who’s that?” You ask no one, pointing to the red-haired boy in the middle of the photo as you make your way closer to the fridge.

“Oh, that’s Heeseung. Our residential Senior. He’s in communications like you! He’s the last of us you’ll be meeting today. Not sure where he’s gone off to, though.” Sunoo trailed off as Jay approached him with a stirring spoon in hand, blowing on it before letting Sunoo taste.

Sunoo licks his lips and gives Jay a silent thumbs up, grabbing the spoon and taking his turn stirring the meat sauce.

“I can answer that one. I may have pissed him off at practice today. He’s probably off on a run or something.” Jay shrugs as if it’s commonplace for Heeseung to be unaccounted for. He moves closer to you, resting a hand on the fridge door, blocking you into his space.

“By the way, I’m Jay, as I’m sure you’ve deduced. I’m a Junior in Kinesiology, if you know what that is.” He gloats as you resist the temptation to roll your eyes.

“I’m an outfielder for the team, same as Heeseung. Oh, and just like Heeseung, I’m also an alpha.” He raises his eyebrows as a smirk spreads on his chiseled face.

You do the quick mental math of all the alphas. There’s Sunghoon, Jay, Ni-ki, and Heeseung… four alphas under one roof.

Before you can react as if on cue, the front door slams open, and a blurry figure whizzes past you, slamming Jay into the fridge he was just casually leaning on.

“What the fuck was all that today at practice, huh?” The red-haired boy huffs, sweat clinging to his neck as he scowls at Jay’s nonchalant stance.

Despite your suppressants, you can’t help but feel lightheaded at the scent coming off of the two alphas in front of you.

“Hee, come on, man. Not in front of the lady.” Jake tries to lighten the mood as he cautiously steps beside you, slinging his arm around your shoulders, drawing Heeseung’s attention to where you stood in shock at the sudden outburst.

“Yeah, dude, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. That’s just how the game goes sometimes. You can’t get every ball, ya’ know.” Jay takes this opportunity to remove Heeseung’s clenched fist from the collar of his shirt, trying and failing to brush out the wrinkles it left.

“Whatever, man. You knew what you were doing.” Heeseung grumbled as his wild temper seemed to have taken a full 180 at realizing your presence.

“S-sorry.” He stutters out, his eyes not meeting yours. He turns to huff at Jay again before retreating upstairs, a door slamming shut a moment later.

“Whelp,” Jungwon starts, placing a salad bowl on the dining table. “Welcome to our happy home! Hope you don’t mind the many pissing contests these boys will get into.” He tries to laugh, but you can tell there’s some honesty in his voice.

“Is he.. gonna be okay?” You hesitantly ask, slipping from Jake’s arm to glance towards the stairway. Sunghoon brings the drained pasta noodles to the table, and the other boys bring the rest of the meal.

“He will. He just gets like this around this time. If my research is still correct, he’ll come down soon enough, not to worry.” Sunghoon stated as if he had no doubt of Heeseung’s typical behavior.

“Yeah, seriously, he’s gonna be fine; you just sit down and eat. I’m sure you’re starved after moving.” Jay gives you a reassuring look as he hands you some cutlery.

Everyone finds a seat at the table, and you suddenly feel all eyes on you again. Jake is the first to dig in, and the others follow soon after.

“So,” Jake talks between chewing his salad. “Tell us about yourself.”

[tubborucho]

Hey guys!

I have a request for my international friends that I hope some of you can help with🙏

I am currently working with kids aged 6-12 at a Montessori system school, and I recently had an idea for a new material for our language zone: a collection of small books for different languages in the world, so kids can look at them and maybe take interest in learning any of them!

I want those books to include basic words and phrases that you might need when visiting the country, numbers, colours, all that stuff.

And that's where I need help! I can, obviously, use google translator and I probably will for some languages, but it would be so nice to have actual native speakers input on how they would say this stuff in their language! So after Read More there will be a list of everything I want to include, and if any of you feel like doing it, I would love if you translated it all into your languages :)

Any language works! Other than russian and english because they already speak those

Language:

Hello -

Bye -

Thank you -

Please -

Sorry -

What is your name? -

My name is... -

How old are you? -

I am ... years old -

Help me -

I want... -

I need... -

I like... -

How are you? -

I am good/bad/neutral -

Where are you from? -

I am from Russia -

I speak russian and english -

Where is... -

I am lost -

Mister/Miss <- as in a way how to refer to people in your country -

1 -

2 -

3 -

4 -

5 -

6 -

7 -

8 -

9 -

10 -

11 -

12 -

red -

orange -

yellow -

green -

blue -

purple -

pink -

black -

white -

gray -

brown -

cat -

dog -

bird -

fish -

bunny -

snail -

parrot -

hotel -

house -

park -

grocery store -

museum -

theatre -

train station -

bus stop -

airport -

tea -

juice -

water -

hot chocolate -

cocoa -

sugar -

passport -

luggage -

wallet -

phone -

bag -

waiter -

doctor -

policeman -

mom -

dad -

brother -

sister -

grandma -

grandpa -

man -

woman -

girl -

boy -

I will tag some people I for sure know speak a language that is not english or russian, but don't feel pressured to respond!

Tags: @mikaikaika @routeriver @moomoorare

[lightyaoigami]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ how to resume ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ

after 10 years & 6 jobs in corporate america, i would like to share how to game the system. we all want the biggest payoff for the least amount of work, right?

know thine enemy: beating the robots

i see a lot of misinformation about how AI is used to scrape resumes. i can't speak for every company but most corporations use what is called applicant tracking software (ATS).

no respectable company is using chatgpt to sort applications. i don't know how you'd even write the prompt to get a consumer-facing product to do this. i guarantee that target, walmart, bank of america, whatever, they are all using B2B SaaS enterprise solutions. there is not one hiring manager plinking away at at a large language model.

ATS scans your resume in comparison to the job posting, parses which resumes contain key words, and presents the recruiter and/or hiring manager with resumes with a high "score." the goal of writing your resume is to get your "score" as high as possible.

but tumblr user lightyaoigami, how do i beat the robots?

great question, y/n. you will want to seek out an ATS resume checker. i have personally found success with jobscan, which is not free, but works extremely well. there is a free trial period, and other ATS scanners are in fact free. some of these tools are so sophisticated that they can actually help build your resume from scratch with your input. i wrote my own resume and used jobscan to compare it to the applications i was finishing.

do not use chatgpt to write your resume or cover letter. it is painfully obvious. here is a tutorial on how to use jobscan. for the zillionth time i do not work for jobscan nor am i a #jobscanpartner i am just a person who used this tool to land a job at a challenging time.

the resume checkers will tell you what words and/or phrases you need to shoehorn into your bullet points - i.e., if you are applying for a job that requires you to be a strong collaborator, the resume checker might suggest you include the phrase "cross-functional teams." you can easily re-word your bullets to include this with a little noodling.

don't i need a cover letter?

it depends on the job. after you have about 5 years of experience, i would say that they are largely unnecessary. while i was laid off, i applied to about 100 jobs in a three-month period (#blessed to have been hired quickly). i did not submit a cover letter for any of them, and i had a solid rate of phone screens/interviews after submission despite not having a cover letter. if you are absolutely required to write one, do not have chatgpt do it for you. use a guide from a human being who knows what they are talking about, like ask a manager or betterup.

but i don't even know where to start!

i know it's hard, but you have to have a bit of entrepreneurial spirit here. google duckduckgo is your friend. don't pull any bean soup what-about-me-isms. if you truly don't know where to start, look for an ATS-optimized resume template.

a word about neurodivergence and job applications

i, like many of you, am autistic. i am intimately familiar with how painful it is to expend limited energy on this demoralizing task only to have your "reward" be an equally, if not more so, demoralizing work experience. i don't have a lot of advice for this beyond craft your worksona like you're making a d&d character (or a fursona or a sim or an OC or whatever made up blorbo generator you personally enjoy).

and, remember, while a lot of office work is really uncomfortable and involves stuff like "talking in meetings" and "answering the phone," these things are not an inherent risk. discomfort is not tantamount to danger, and we all have to do uncomfortable things in order to thrive. there are a lot of ways to do this and there is no one-size-fits-all answer. not everyone can mask for extended periods, so be your own judge of what you can or can't do.

i like to think of work as a drag show where i perform this other personality in exchange for money. it is much easier to do this than to fight tooth and nail to be unmasked at work, which can be a risk to your livelihood and peace of mind. i don't think it's a good thing that we have to mask at work, but it's an important survival skill.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ good luck ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆

[alvivaarts]

AO3 is Removing 'All Media Types' without Public Input or Announcement. What Can We Do?

What's Happening?

For those who don't yet know: AO3 and the Tag Wranglers have begun to slowly remove the 'All Media Types' tag for older fandoms. Aka, removing the 'umbrella' tag for many franchises, and forcing franchises to be split by media, or to be shoved under one umbrella that does not accurately reflect the types of fics or source medias they come from. This has been slowly occurring with no official announcement, under the pretense that things will be 'easier' to manage, or that some users claimed that the 'All Media Types' tag was confusing. This has begun in secrecy, without genuine input from the userbase, and without any public announcement. (As of 9/5/2024 9:30 AM PST) Many of us are pretty confident in AO3 staff's decisions, but the fact that this decision is not only incredibly impactful, but made without public input, has deeply violated the condition of the site as an archive... an archive of OUR own.

Current seen issues and active risks:

Removal of 'All Media Types' automatically makes fics from different sources in the same franchise a 'crossover', forcing users to consider non-crossover fics 'crossovers'. So, any fanfic that spans or implements elements from multiple pieces of media in a franchise are now considered a 'crossover', despite being from the same franchise and not a crossover.

Removal of 'All Media Types' forces users to manually search for the fics and ships they want one by one through each fandom tag in a related franchise. (Imagine looking through all the separate DC or MARVEL movies one by one).

The 'include crossovers' and 'exclude crossovers' filters are now useless, and removing genuine crossovers (crossovers between franchises) must be done manually through the filter system, which can take upwards of half an hour, if not longer, with the amount of one-off genuine crossovers that exist.

Slightly smaller franchises are being shoved under the umbrella of a single, super popular fandom. (See, Sherlock Holmes. All Sherlock Holmes media has been relegated to the tag 'Sherlock TV', which confuses users, as the tag now includes not only BBC Sherlock, which is the umbrella tag, but any works based off of Arthur Conan Doyle's original works, the 2009 Sherlock Holmes films, and the 16+ Sherlock Holmes adaptations and international TV shows... none of which are BBC Sherlock.)

Anime and manga fandoms (especially smaller ones) are being automatically split by media type, without regard to the fact that many anime and manga adaptations are very similar, and/or authors tend to often implement elements from both anime and manga.

As far as we are aware, no one is going to be correcting any improper sorting resulting from this.

Accounts that are no longer active/accessible, memorial accounts, and orphaned fics and no longer be corrected by their original authors and are at risk of being misplaced into incorrect fandom tags. Unfortunately, no one can fix this but the tag wranglers, who were supposedly removing 'All Media Types' in the first place to prevent MORE work. Counter intuitive, isn't it?

Already, fandoms are being improperly split, others being improperly merged, and still more being far more confusingly sorted. This deeply damages AO3's integrity as an ARCHIVE.

What Can I Do?

As soon as it's back up again, make sure to stop by the Contact Support page! There, you're able to let them know exactly how you feel about this, and what fandoms your fear will be impacted by these changes. Many already have been.

In the meantime, make sure to contact AO3 on Twitter (or X): ao3org (AO3's general twitter page), ao3_wranglers (AO3's tag wrangler page), and OTW_news (the parent host of AO3).

There is also tumblr: ao3org (AO3's tumblr page) and transformativeworks (OTW's tumblr page).

And finally, the Organization for Transformative Works contact page.

If you are aware of any additional medias, please add them below to ensure that AO3 thoroughly understands the negative impact of this decision, especially the violation of trust resulting from making such a massive choice without impact. Be sure to share this information elsewhere, repost, share the links, and make a stink. Furthermore, if you are able, letting AO3 know that you are no longer comfortable financially supporting them in the future.

Be sure to also repost and list any fandoms you have personally noticed have been impacted by this change!

Already Impacted Fandoms:

MARVEL, MCU, Marvel Comics, Avengers, and related tags

Any Sherlock Holmes based Media

A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones, House of the Dragon)

World of Warcraft

Assassin's Creed

Monogatari

BanG Dream!

Jujutsu Kaisen

Disney (all media, now: Disney Theatrical Animated Universe)

DC and DC Comics

AND MANY, MANY MORE!

[dovveri]

can you write sana and reader scissoring in the back seat bcz the car can drive automatically ?!😋

knee deep in the passenger seat

synopsis: once again, exactly what req asked for :)

warnings: smut! scissoring in the backseat, some thigh riding, semi-public sex, cunnilingus implication, curse words

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: every author has their hardest type of fic to write and i fear mine is smut... still fun tho! enjoy stay safe dont plagirise etc etc :P

"how much longerrrrr?"

you look over to the passenger seat, laughing a little at your girlfriend's antics. she's been getting more and more restless as the drive went on. she'd already gotten through her entire collection of netflix downloads, taken various naps, and grown sick of her road trip playlists that she had specially made in preparation.

you place a hand on her thigh, "almost there baby. 2 hours to go."

"2 hours?!" she exaggerates, whining and putting her hand over yours, squeezing slightly.

"you can take another nap?"

"not tired." you don't have to look at her to tell she's pouting. but you would have to look at her to pinpoint the look she gets in her eye, coming up with an idea that would entertain her, and you for the remainder of the drive.

"hungry? there's still some snacks in the- w-what are you doing sana?" your grip on the steering wheel tightens as you feel her drag your hand up her thigh slowly.

"mm i'm not really feeling like the snacks we brought. i could go for something else though..." there's a suggestive lilt in her voice, and your grip around her thigh tightens out of habit. she smirks, knowing she has you wrapped around her finger.

"b-baby i'm driving."

"doesn't this car have an auto drive feature?" she inches your hand further up, her voice dropping an octave, using that tone you know she only uses when she wants something from you.

"y-yeah b-but- um- i-"

"hmm?"

just before she reaches her centre she brings your hand up to her mouth, taking your fingers in slowly, one by one, slicking them up and humming around them. you don't dare look at her, the feeling of her mouth wrapped around you enough to make you squirm in your seat.

"there we go. nice and wet. you'll help me out now won't you?" she doesn't wait for a response, bringing your hand back down, except she's unzipped her pants and shuffled them down already so your hand meets the skin of her inner thighs. you can feel the heat emanating from her core, anticipation building while she traces your fingers lightly over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

"b-baby-"

"c'mon let me have some fun honey. it'll be fun for you too i promise."

then she presses the tip of your finger directly above her clit, gasping at the barely there pressure, feeling her own arousal spike instantly.

you curse, using your other hand to quickly turn the auto-drive feature of the car on, while sana traces your finger down her clothed cunt, rutting into your hand when you start to feel her panties soil with her essence. she drags you slowly back up to her clit, making you press down fully this time, circling it and letting out a full blown moan. the sound goes straight between your legs, the feeling of her hot skin, the little nub under your fingertip.

when you're finally done with the settings and inputting your destination in the navigation system, you whip your head around to face her, expecting, but still completely unprepared for the look of sheer sex on her face.

she's got the hand that's not controlling yours in her mouth, sucking on her own fingers to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure she makes with each stroke of your fingers. her pants are shoved down to her thighs, you can see her thigh muscles straining to spread her legs wider for you, but the material only allows her to open herself up so much. she's got that lidded look that she knows drives you insane, her top messy from her wriggling and squirming. with wide eyes you realise she decided to forgo wearing a bra today, her nipples hard and visible through her thin camisole.

sana notices your gaze linger on her chest, pushing it out further with a smirk. "like what you see?"

"you didn't wear a bra." your voice is low, now that you have your full attention on her, you're hyper-focused on the way her breathing has gotten progressively heavier, the rise and fall of her chest and the increasing wetness under your fingertip.

"it's a roadtrip. i wanted to be comfy."

"or you planned this from the beginning?"

she smirks again, "you're delusional honey. now are you gonna help me or do i have to do it myself?"

you growl, leaning over and capturing her lips in a rough kiss, sucking her bottom lip into your mouth and biting down lightly. she moans, pressing your hand down against her cunt just a little harder to give herself more pressure.

at the reminder, you rip your hand away from her, ignoring her whine against your lips, sucking away any other sounds she tries to make. instead, you work at pulling her pants down fully, helping her out of them so her legs were now bare and spread for you.

you break away, glancing down briefly, your eyes darkening at the sight, a wet patch obvious on her panties as she whines and squirms against you.

"backseat. now."

you push yourself off of your seat, climbing into the backseat a little clumsily, earning a giggle and a cheeky slap on your ass, but you were needy now so you didn’t care how you looked, the mess between your thighs was all her fault.

once you’re sat you look at her expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

but she takes her time, making sure your eyes are on her before pulling off her top slowly, letting her breasts bounce down, knowing your eyes were glued to them. then she leans onto the dashboard, bringing her legs up onto the seat so her ass is facing you, teasingly pulling her panties down her legs, slow enough you can see the slick clinging to the material desperately as she reveals her cunt, pretty and soaked. you lick your lips in anticipation, the throb between your own legs growing almost unbearable.

she looks over her shoulder back at you when her panties are off, the most seductive look in her eyes, lips curled up. she crawls onto the middle console, then she's on her hands and knees in front of you, completely naked and dripping, hair falling to frame her face perfectly.

you lean back, rubbing your thighs together to generate any sort of friction, feeling the temperature of the car heighten.

"take off your clothes." she husks out, getting up so she's still kneeling but has her hands holding onto the sides of the passenger and driver seats to support herself.

you hasten to follow her instructions, yanking down your pants and pulling your top off over your head, undoing your bra and shuffling your panties down your legs. you waste no time, unlike her, too desperate for her touch to tease.

the way she's kneeling in front of you, means all the movements of the car translates directly onto her body. every small bump or rough patch of road the car drives over, her tits bounce along accordingly, nipples hard and pointed, just aching to be tugged and pinched. your gaze is fixed on them, completely obsessed.

finally, after you're both completely naked, sana slides forward. you're too eager to get your skin on hers that you grab her hips and pull her onto your lap harshly. her yelp transitions into a moan as soon as your heated skin meets.

she immediately starts grinding down into your thigh, you're completely mesmerised by the way her chest bounces, finally close enough that you can reach both hands up and cup them.

"f-fuck you can touch."

your hands squeeze, brushing your thumbs over her nipples gently, earning a moan from sana again.

you can't get enough of the sounds she makes, determined to hear more, squeezing her tits a little more harshly, playing around with them in your hands, then coming in to pinch her nipples simultaneously.

sana throws her head back at that, gushing at the feeling, rutting down faster, harder onto your thigh, fully riding it now.

you take the opportunity with the extra space to lean down and wrap your lips around a nipple, still tugging and twisting at the other one. you alternate between sucking motions and running your tongue over it in all sorts of directions, switching to the other nipple and repeating, hands never leaving her tits, never getting enough.

when you detach from her, you realise you've started thrusting up into her unconsciously as well, your body only reacting to the arousal and intense need to get off right now.

you latch back onto her tit, only able to break away for so long, but taking in your surroundings a little better now. you flush, tilting your head to the side so you can continue suckling on her nipple, taking in the highway. thankfully there weren't many cars on the road but the thrill of being caught, or anyone driving close enough to just peek in through the window to see the both of you, completely naked and enthralled with one another, sends a spike of arousal down your spine.

you can feel when sana gets closer to finishing, her breaths and moans picking up in pitch, her movements growing more frantic, hand on the back of your head, keeping you at her chest, curses falling out of her mouth.

you hum around her, pulling back and looking up, adoring the sweat that's built up, bits of her hair sticking to her forehead, eyes lidded, mouth open.

"close?" your voice is raspy, overrun with lust.

"m-mhm-"

at the confirmation, you suddenly move your hands down to her hips, grabbing them and forcing her still.

"w-what?! what are you doing?!"

"shh- just- let me-" you awkwardly shuffle around the backseat, trying to maneuver your bodies in the limited space, lying down and pulling her on top of you.

her breath hitches as your bare chests meet, faces suddenly close together, and then your shifting your legs and you mutter out a small curse, grinding up into her cunt, both your pussies drenched and gliding against one another, clits catching as you frantically bring her down into a kiss.

you both moan into each other, sana understanding what you wanted immediately, not wasting another second and rutting down into you, rubbing your cunts together.

it's wet, and hot, and scratches just the itch you need to have your back arching, desperately thrusting up into her, briefly wondering if your car was shaking from the frenzied humping, if other people could tell what was going on just by the movement of your car.

your nipples perk up when you feel sana's saliva-slicked chest rub against yours, the tight space making you feel all the more closer to her, chasing your highs together.

"f-fuck i'm- oh god- i-"

"c'mon- cum baby. that's what you wanted right? you entertained yet? you wanna cum all over me? all over my pretty pussy? fuck you're gonna make me cum too-"

she whines, burying her head in your neck, unable to continue kissing you, only focused on the primal need to reach that high.

"oh fuck you're so pretty baby- wanna see you cum- please? for me?"

sana's panting into your ear, grinding down, each thrust feeling rougher and faster than the last, and when you practically beg her to cum for you, she does exactly that, crying out and releasing.

you grab her hips and continue to rut up into her, chasing your own orgasm which comes easily when the girl of your dreams is writhing and coming undone right on top of you.

you come down with heavy breaths, holding sana in your arms and running a hand through her hair softly.

eventually sana peeks out from the crook of your neck, a hazy grin on her face, hair a mess, she's never been more beautiful.

"thank you."

"of course baby." you smile, brushing strands of hair that have fallen onto your face behind her ear.

she sits up, still on top of you, stretching a little. there's a twinge of arousal watching her body move. she looks back down at you knowingly, lightly trailing a hand up and down the valley of your chest and your stomach.

"how much longer do we have?"

you sit up as well, grasping her hands and interlocking your fingers, looking to the dashboard and squinting at the time to destination.

"like an hour."

sana hums, then pushes you back down so you’re lying flat on your back.

you raise an eyebrow in question.

she smirks, "enough time for me to eat you out. you know i get peckish after sex. you're the perfect snack."

and then she's lifting your legs onto her shoulders and diving in. you found it hard to find reasons to drive anymore when the auto-drive feature allowed sana to have you like this, not knee deep in the passenger seat and eating you out, but just as good.

[grison-in-space]

Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

[thydungeongal]

"The purpose of a system is what it does" is a systems thinking heuristic coined by Stafford Beer. "Heuristic" is a fancy word that means "cool Greek way of saying a practical analytic method." It can be used to analyze, well, pretty much any system. For example, if one were to take the United States insurance-based healthcare system under scrutiny with this metric, one could conclude that the purpose of the system is to make some people extremely rich while forcing many people to face a choice between insurmountable medical debt or no healthcare at all. Many would reasonably argue that that is probably not a good thing for a system to do and the system should probably do something else, like allowing people to call an ambulance for an emergency without having to worry about personal bankruptcy, but sadly that is not what the system does.

Now, after that rather heavy example I'm going to go for something lighter: roleplaying games are, in many ways, systems. They're systems for making us imagine a bunch of freaks and using rules to put those imaginary freaks into situations, and we can then imagine that fiction and go "wow, those freaks sure got into situations."

We can thus look at that fictional sequence of events as a narrative produced by the system and according to the initial heuristic conclude that that narrative was the purpose of the system.

Now obviously roleplaying games are not closed systems: they require players in order for anything to happen. Otherwise there is no game and thus no narrative. And one way in which players can interact with games is through ignoring these games' rules. The results of the players ignoring the rules of a game are arguably still a result of the system, which includes the players and the game they are playing, but also not the result of the game if taken as a text (because the text is being sidelined). This is a useful distinction: an individual game or Dungeons & Dragons can produce a narrative that touches upon themes of queer romance. But the text of Dungeons & Dragons isn't the part of the system doing it. Much as I have said before: if two players choose to rub their character sheets together and make mwah mwah noises, that is arguably a thing that would have not happened without the context of the game. But it could have happened within the context of any game, not just Dungeons & Dragons.

This is why, when talking about the stories that these games produce, I find it more useful to talk about these games as systems taken in and of themselves. Any game can effectively be changed to produce any kind of story. Even Dungeons & Dragons has been modified and utilized to produce a high production value science fiction story starring a cast of really funny comedians. That isn't exactly a testament to the storytelling potential of Dungeons & Dragons for the sake of producing science fiction stories, something it as a game has very little input over. The cast could have produced that story while changing or ignoring any number of games, so it is more of a testament to the quality of the cast and production.

I've talked at length before about the sorts of narratives that Dungeons & Dragons produces and even though the exact details will vary from one edition to another, to take a very high-level perspective of the game as a single thing: D&D produces stories about characters going to dangerous places to overcome adversity while having their resources slowly drained until they have to leave the dangerous place, only to return (or go to a different dangerous place) once they have recovered and potentially grown stronger. Besides these narratives the game also produces experiences for its players around the table: the dramatic tension preceding an important roll, the release when a player rolls just high enough for a character to succeed, and the absolute explosion of energy often followed by rolling a natural 20 are all experiences that the game produces.

(While I personally tend to prefer the pre-WotC editions of the game, the designers of D&D 3e were absolutely cooking when they decided to unify most checks in the game under d20 roll-high. While there have been some unpredictable effects downstream from this change, the use of a d20 where players really want to roll a big number is good design in my opinion, in the sense that it makes the game produce cool experiences.)

Now that's all fine, but I don't always want to talk about D&D because there is a better D&D out there: Rolemaster, a game that owes its basic structure to D&D to such an extent that most of the above points about the sorts of stories and experiences D&D produces apply to it, but is also really stupid.

The core gameplay of Rolemaster revolves around rolling dice and cross-referencing the result of the roll (plus any modifiers) on an appropriate table. The table lookup process itself adds a bit of friction into the game: the process of figuring out the results of an action does slow down play for a bit. The experience this produces for its players is one of tension, much like waiting for a roll in D&D. Now, the thing about those really high and really low rolls in Rolemaster is that they will result in more rolls. On other tables. What happens, around the table, in those situations, is the tension of waiting for a roll followed by a massive explosion of energy which does not yet release all the tension, as more rolls need to be made. There are multiple explosions and releases of tension, until the final roll. Which will invariably give you one of the dumbest results in the world.

Rolemaster is supposedly a realistic, grim and gritty game, and while it is true that characters are more likely to suffer permanent harm that actually has a tangible mechanical effect on them than they would in D&D, the important thing to understand about Rolemaster is that while most of the results on its myriad tables will skew towards the mundane, due to the way it treats its d100-based resolution system as pretty much a glorified d20 with a bit more granularity between the extremes, a lot of extremely shitty bullshit is always lurking at the sidelines. And unlike in D&D where a natural 20 produces just a success (and maybe some extra damage in combat, depending on edition) and a natural 1 produces just a failure (fumbles are house rules within the context of D&D), in Rolemaster's case there are actual prefabricated results encoded into the game. Which are really stupid.

All of which is to say: you know all those stories about a D&D game where a player rolled a 1 and the GM made up a really silly failure on the spot and you couldn't help but roll your eyes because that's not actually something that the game produced natively and no one within this game's community can actually agree to what a natural 1 should represent within the fiction? Rolemaster is a game which natively produces those stupid results, because someone went through the trouble of making that stupid result a part of one of the many tables you will inevitably end up rolling on.

Dungeons & Dragons allows for stupid things to happen via giving its players the power of narrative editing to make up their own stupid things. In Rolemaster those stupid things are bespoke, custom made, and provided to you the player, no modding required.

[seat-safety-switch]

Every time it snows, I see lots of people who are terrified to operate their cars. This is poppycock, and originates from the media trying to force fear into your brain so that you stay home for a few more minutes to watch the morning traffic report and, oh, just a coincidence that it comes with a ton more ads. Stay Afraid. Buy Oreos®.

Winter driving is all about momentum. You keep your car moving, perform only gentle adjustments, and pay attention. Above all, you must not make any abrupt movements. This will unsettle the car, and then you'll careen towards a ditch, bus stop, or ballet recital. Important: allow thing to happen slowly, without your direct involvement. Freaking out and starting to chop at the wheel because you didn't get a prompt response to your last gentle input is what a toddler would do, and that's why only certain states let them drive.

Think of yourself as being engaged in the proud Canadian sport known as curling. In it, someone throws a rock down an icy slope, and some other suckers pretend to do anything at all by rapidly sweeping their brooms in front of it. Those frozen janitors are not allowed to touch the rock, because doing so will cause it to fly out of control and kill someone. When driving, you want to be the person throwing the rock, not the person frantically sweeping for no reason before accidentally maiming a cameraman from the CBC.

Whenever it snows, the first thing I do is head to the local giant parking lot. There, I can safely practice losing and regaining control of my car in the snow, without worrying about smacking a pedestrian or highway abutment. Critically, it's here that I also figure out what new holes in the cabin are letting water in. This lets me stop, get out, and apply duct tape at my leisure, rather than stewing in reflected road juices for my entire commute to work. That last part may not apply to you: for instance, you might be rich enough to be able to put marine-grade caulk or even Bondo over the rust holes in your car's floor.

If there's only one thing I can leave you with, it's this: don't panic. Like I said, tensing up and jerking around the car is only going to make things worse for everyone else on the road. Instead, let things happen. Be chill. Make sure you've got enough gas and maybe a sandwich on hand. Take a break if you've been pushing through traffic for hours. And above all, do not put an album by The Prodigy into your stereo system and then rip through red lights, completely sideways, banging off the rev limiter as you engage in icy doughnut after doughnut, just because you bought studded winter tires and have a generalized contempt for society at large. My attorney thought adding that last part would help with negotiating the plea bargain.