#extracting real-time data

[vaguelymellowharmony]

Realigning Food Delivery Market Moves with Precision Through Glovo Data Scraping

Introduction

This case study highlights how our Glovo Data Scraping solutions empowered clients to monitor food delivery market trends strategically, refine service positioning, and execute agile, data-backed business strategies. Leveraging advanced scraping methodologies, we delivered actionable market intelligence that helped optimize decision-making, elevate competitiveness, and drive profitability.

Our solutions offered a clear strategic edge by enabling end-to-end visibility into the delivery ecosystem to Extract Food Delivery Data. This comprehensive insight allowed clients to fine-tune service models, sharpen market alignment, and achieve consistent revenue growth through accurate competitor benchmarking in the fast-moving food delivery sector.

The Client

A mid-sized restaurant chain operating across 75+ locations with a rapidly expanding digital footprint reached us with a critical operational challenge. Although the brand enjoyed strong recognition, it faced a noticeable drop in customer engagement driven by gaps in delivery service efficiency. To address this, Glovo Data Scraping was identified as a strategic solution, as service inconsistencies directly impacted their revenue goals and competitive position.

With a broad menu and widespread delivery zones, the restaurant struggled to manage delivery logistics, especially during peak hours when quick shifts in demand required fast action. Their manual approach failed to support Real-Time Glovo Data Scraping, leading to missed revenue opportunities and weakening customer loyalty.

Recognizing the need to refine their delivery strategy, the management team saw that without proper visibility into Glovo’s delivery ecosystem, they lacked the insights necessary for efficient operations and practical customer experience management.

Key Challenges Faced by the Client

In their pursuit of stronger delivery market intelligence and a sharper competitive edge, the client faced several operational and strategic hurdles:

Market Insight Shortage

Limited insights into Glovo's platform and competitors made scraping Glovo Delivery Information difficult, preventing effective market analysis necessary for informed business decisions.

Slow Response Adaptation

Reliance on manual weekly evaluations slowed the restaurant chain's ability to act quickly. Without Glovo Delivery Data Extraction, adapting to real-time market changes became a challenge.

Demand Forecasting Gap

Traditional methods failed to account for real-time delivery data. The restaurant chain needed Glovo Product Data Extraction to predict demand and adjust services based on emerging trends accurately.

Manual Process Overload

Labor-intensive processes hindered efficient service decisions. By applying methods to Scrape Glovo For Product Availability And Pricing, the restaurant chain sought automation to optimize service delivery.

Service Consistency Issue

Inconsistent service quality across zones presented a problem. They required Mobile App Scraping Solutions to streamline operations and ensure consistent service delivery across all customer touchpoints.

Key Solutions for Addressing Client Challenges

We implemented cutting-edge solutions to the client's challenges, combining delivery intelligence with advanced analytics.

Delivery Optimization Engine

We built a centralized platform that leverages Real-Time Glovo Delivery Time Data Extraction to collect live data from various restaurants and delivery zones, enabling efficient decision-making.

Competitor Monitoring System

Our system, designed to Extract Restaurant Menus And Prices From Glovo, quickly identifies service gaps when competitors adjust, giving restaurant chains the edge to adapt promptly.

Dynamic Market Signals

By integrating multiple delivery signals, such as peak hours and weather, with Glovo Scraping For Restaurant Delivery Services, we created flexible models that adjust to market fluctuations.

Automated Service Recommender

Using Real-Time Glovo Data Scraping, we implemented an automated engine that generates service suggestions based on customer feedback and competitive positioning, reducing the need for manual input.

Strategic Adjustment Mechanism

Competitor promotions directly influence our service strategies by using tools to Extract Food Delivery Data, optimizing delivery times and fees while ensuring premium offerings remain profitable.

Cloud-Based Monitoring Hub

A robust Mobile App Scraping Solution enables managers to access and update delivery data remotely, facilitating continuous optimization and transforming strategy management into a dynamic process.

Key Insights Gained from Glovo Data Scraping

Service Elasticity Analysis Revealed delivery time sensitivity across different menu items, offering immediate operational optimization opportunities.

Competitive Positioning Patterns Provided insights into neighborhood-specific delivery differences, supporting targeted service improvements.

Pricing Cycle Optimization Illuminated optimal fee adjustment timing for different meal categories, aiding in more strategic revenue management.

Data-Driven Service Decisions Enabled the implementation of adaptive delivery models based on competitive positioning patterns.

Benefits of Glovo Data Scraping From Retail Scrape

Strategic Boost

By utilizing solutions to Scrape Glovo Delivery Information, the client improved delivery strategies, positioning their services for maximum value, enhancing market responsiveness to competitive shifts.

Loyalty Growth

Using competitor service insights, the client predicted market trends and strengthened customer retention, employing to Extract Glovo Product Data to stay ahead of shifts in demand.

Efficient Operations

The client minimized manual efforts by employing advanced Real-Time Glovo Delivery Time Data Extraction, driving faster decisions and better service while ensuring precise positioning and operational success.

Competitive Edge

With advanced techniques to Scrape Glovo For Product Availability And Pricing, the client gained critical insights into market trends, allowing for service adjustments that boosted profitability in competitive delivery sectors.

Retail Scrape's Glovo Data Scraping solutions revolutionized our approach to delivery market positioning. By gaining comprehensive access to Extract Food Delivery Data insights, we rapidly adjusted our strategy, refined our service models, and achieved a remarkable 37% increase in customer retention.

- Operations Director, Leading Multi-Location Restaurant Chain

Conclusion

Maintaining optimal delivery service positioning is crucial in today's competitive food delivery market. Glovo Data Scraping empowers businesses to monitor competitor services, make informed decisions, and improve market competitiveness.

Our customized solutions offer smooth delivery intelligence and actionable insights, allowing businesses to refine their competitive positioning. With in-depth expertise in Glovo Delivery Data Extraction, we equip businesses with the tools to unlock valuable insights for strategic growth.

Our specialists help evaluate market positioning, refine delivery strategies, and boost profit margins through Real-Time Glovo Data Scraping. Contact Retail Scrape today to minimize service inconsistencies, enhance market positioning, and drive long-term revenue with our advanced food delivery intelligence solutions.

Read more >>https://www.retailscrape.com/glovo-food-delivery-data-scraping-for-market-insights.php

officially published by https://www.retailscrape.com/.

[reasonsforhope]

When self-described “ocean custodian” Boyan Slat took the stage at TED 2025 in Vancouver this week, he showed viewers a reality many of us are already heartbreakingly familiar with: There is a lot of trash in the ocean.

“If we allow current trends to continue, the amount of plastic that’s entering the ocean is actually set to double by 2060,” Slat said in his TED Talk, which will be published online at a later date. 

Plus, once plastic is in the ocean, it accumulates in “giant circular currents” called gyres, which Slat said operate a lot like the drain of the bathtub, meaning that plastic can enter these currents but cannot leave.

That’s how we get enormous build-ups like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a giant collection of plastic pollution in the ocean that is roughly twice the size of Texas.

As the founder and CEO of The Ocean Cleanup, Slat’s goal is to return our oceans to their original, clean state before 2040. To accomplish this, two things must be done.

First: Stop more plastic from entering the ocean. Second: Clean up the “legacy” pollution that is already out there and doesn’t go away by itself.

And Slat is well on his way.

Pictured: Kingston Harbour in Jamaica. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup Project

When Slat’s first TEDx Talk went viral in 2012, he was able to organize research teams to create the first-ever map of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. From there, they created a technology to collect plastic from the most garbage-heavy areas in the ocean.

“We imagined a very long, u-shaped barrier … that would be pushed by wind and waves,” Slat explained in his Talk. 

This barrier would act as a funnel to collect garbage and be emptied out for recycling. 

But there was a problem.

“We took it out in the ocean, and deployed it, and it didn’t collect plastic,” Slat said, “which is a pretty important requirement for an ocean cleanup system.”

Soon after, this first system broke into two. But a few days later, his team was already back to the drawing board. 

From here, they added vessels that would tow the system forward, allowing it to sweep a larger area and move more methodically through the water. Mesh attached to the barrier would gather plastic and guide it to a retention area, where it would be extracted and loaded onto a ship for sorting, processing, and recycling. 

It worked. 

“For 60 years, humanity had been putting plastic into the ocean, but from that day onwards, we were also taking it back out again,” Slat said, with a video of the technology in action playing on screen behind him.

To applause, he said: “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, honestly.”

Over the years, Ocean Cleanup has scaled up this cleanup barrier, now measuring almost 2.5 kilometers — or about 1.5 miles — in length. And it cleans up an area of the ocean the size of a football field every five seconds.

Pictured: The Ocean Cleanup's System 002 deployed in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup

The system is designed to be safe for marine life, and once plastic is brought to land, it is recycled into new products, like sunglasses, accessories for electric vehicles, and even Coldplay’s latest vinyl record, according to Slat. 

These products fund the continuation of the cleanup. The next step of the project is to use drones to target areas of the ocean that have the highest plastic concentration. 

In September 2024, Ocean Cleanup predicted the Patch would be cleaned up within 10 years. 

However, on April 8, Slat estimated “that this fleet of systems can clean up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch in as little as five years’ time.”

With ongoing support from MCS, a Netherlands-based Nokia company, Ocean Cleanup can quickly scale its reliable, real-time data and video communication to best target the problem. 

It’s the largest ocean cleanup in history.

But what about the plastic pollution coming into the ocean through rivers across the world? Ocean Cleanup is working on that, too. 

To study plastic pollution in other waterways, Ocean Cleanup attached AI cameras to bridges, measuring the flow of trash in dozens of rivers around the world, creating the first global model to predict where plastic is entering oceans.

“We discovered: Just 1% of the world’s rivers are responsible for about 80% of the plastic entering our oceans,” Slat said.

His team found that coastal cities in middle-income countries were primarily responsible, as people living in these areas have enough wealth to buy things packaged in plastic, but governments can’t afford robust waste management infrastructure. 

Ocean Cleanup now tackles those 1% of rivers to capture the plastic before it reaches oceans.

Pictured: Interceptor 007 in Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of The Ocean Cleanup

“It’s not a replacement for the slow but important work that’s being done to fix a broken system upstream,” Slat said. “But we believe that tackling this 1% of rivers provides us with the only way to rapidly close the gap.”

To clean up plastic waste in rivers, Ocean Cleanup has implemented technology called “interceptors,” which include solar-powered trash collectors and mobile systems in eight countries worldwide.

In Guatemala, an interceptor captured 1.4 million kilograms (or over 3 million pounds) of trash in under two hours. Now, this kind of collection happens up to three times a week.

“All of that would have ended up in the sea,” Slat said.

Now, interceptors are being brought to 30 cities around the world, targeting waterways that bring the most trash into our oceans. GPS trackers also mimic the flow of the plastic to help strategically deploy the systems for the most impact.

“We can already stop up to one-third of all the plastic entering our oceans once these are deployed,” Slat said.

And as soon as he finished his Talk on the TED stage, Slat was told that TED’s Audacious Project would be funding the deployment of Ocean Cleanup’s efforts in those 30 cities as part of the organization’s next cohort of grantees. 

While it is unclear how much support Ocean Cleanup will receive from the Audacious Project, Head of TED Chris Anderson told Slat: “We’re inspired. We’re determined in this community to raise the money you need to make that 30-city project happen.”

And Slat himself is determined to clean the oceans for good.

“For humanity to thrive, we need to be optimistic about the future,” Slat said, closing out his Talk.

“Once the oceans are clean again, it can be this example of how, through hard work and ingenuity, we can solve the big problems of our time.”

-via GoodGoodGood, April 9, 2025

[amarillokidding]

Update 4 on the search for Riot by Orthgirl123:

While looking through my first deviantart account for other fics i remembered, I stumbled across a reposted fanfic of Orthgirl123 on someone else's account. It wasn't Riot but it was from another previous account she had on deviantart before that account got deleted?? The person reposting was a friend of hers and wanted to preserve her story(they only had ch1) until eventually she did come back AS the account I remembered her from.

In the comments, someone else(another friend) mentioned that they actually had that entire fanfiction saved and they could send it to them for the complete reposting. This person that saved the fanfiction, is someone I remember. They were one of the first ppl that greeted me when I joined deviantart and commented on EVERYTHING anyone posted about PaF. They mentioned recently that they like to catch up with older mutuals or ppl they knew on his account.

IM WONDERING IF HE HAS THE FANFIC IM LOOKING FOR!!!!

[iwebscrapingblogs]

Google Flight API - Easy Real-Time Data Extraction

In today's fast-paced travel industry, the ability to access real-time flight data is essential for businesses and travelers alike. Whether you’re a travel agent, an airline, a developer, or simply a tech enthusiast, Google Flight API provides a powerful tool to obtain real-time flight information. This blog will delve into how you can harness the Google Flight API for easy real-time data extraction, highlighting its benefits, applications, and a step-by-step guide to get you started.

What is Google Flight API?

Google Flight API is an interface that allows developers to access and manipulate flight data provided by Google Flights. This includes information about flight schedules, prices, availability, and more. The API enables seamless integration of this data into applications, websites, and other platforms, allowing for real-time updates and a more dynamic user experience.

Benefits of Using Google Flight API

Real-Time Data: The API provides up-to-the-minute information on flight schedules, delays, and cancellations. This is crucial for travel agencies and airlines to keep their customers informed and to make timely decisions.

Wide Coverage: Google Flights covers a vast number of airlines and routes worldwide. This extensive database ensures that users have access to comprehensive flight information.

Cost-Effective: Using the API can be more cost-effective than purchasing data from third-party vendors. It reduces the need for manual data collection and entry, saving time and resources.

Customizable: The API allows for customization to fit the specific needs of your application. You can filter results based on parameters such as price range, airlines, layovers, and more.

Enhanced User Experience: Integrating real-time flight data into your platform can significantly enhance the user experience. Users can search for flights, compare prices, and make bookings without leaving your site or app.

Applications of Google Flight API

Travel Booking Platforms: Websites and apps that facilitate flight bookings can use the API to display the latest flight options, prices, and availability to their users.

Travel Agencies: Agencies can automate the process of fetching flight data, providing clients with real-time information and recommendations.

Airlines: Airlines can use the API to update their own systems and customer interfaces with the latest flight schedules and status updates.

Travel Planning Tools: Apps that help users plan their trips can integrate the API to provide accurate flight information, helping users to make informed decisions.

Data Analysis: Researchers and analysts can use the API to gather flight data for various analytical purposes, such as studying travel trends, pricing strategies, and more.

Getting Started with Google Flight API

Accessing the API: Currently, Google Flight API is not publicly available as a standalone service. However, there are ways to access similar data through other means, such as third-party APIs or scraping Google Flights with web scraping tools. Alternatively, you can explore Google's QPX Express API, which provides flight search capabilities, though it has limited availability.

API Key: If you’re using an official API or a third-party service, you’ll need to obtain an API key. This key authenticates your requests and tracks your usage.

Setting Up Your Environment: Ensure you have a development environment set up with the necessary libraries and tools for making HTTP requests and handling JSON data. Popular choices include Python with libraries like requests and json, or JavaScript with axios and fetch.

Making Requests: Use the API documentation to understand the endpoints and parameters available. Construct your HTTP requests to fetch the data you need. For example, a typical request might look like this in Python:pythonCopy codeimport requests url = "https://api.example.com/flights" params = { "origin": "JFK", "destination": "LAX", "departure_date": "2024-07-20" } headers = { "Authorization": "Bearer YOUR_API_KEY" } response = requests.get(url, headers=headers, params=params) data = response.json() print(data)

Parsing the Data: Once you receive the response, parse the JSON data to extract the information you need. This could include flight numbers, departure and arrival times, prices, and more.

Integrating the Data: Integrate the parsed data into your application or website. This might involve updating the UI with the latest flight information, storing data in a database, or performing additional processing.

Conclusion

Google Flight API, or similar services, offers a robust solution for accessing real-time flight data. Whether you’re building a travel booking platform, enhancing an airline’s digital presence, or developing a travel planning tool, the ability to fetch and display accurate flight information is invaluable. By understanding the benefits, applications, and steps to get started, you can leverage this powerful tool to create more dynamic and user-friendly experiences in the travel industry.

[coastalqueerlive]

Art is dead, and AI is dancing on, teabagging, and having an entire affair with its corpse simultaneously.

[beemovieerotica]

llms don't work that way. all of those redditors are dumb kids who don't know what they're talking about. there are plenty of actual problems and harm with generative ai, please don't just make shit up

[kwilquib]

Red String: Tangled

Word Count 4.6k

Liz - I’ve (🐈‍⬛) x Yeji - Itzy (🐈) x MReader 📖

a/n: i was going to post this after the part 4 of promised 9, but it might take a while so i decided to post this one first instead.

The coffee table was already a battlefield of indulgence—half-eaten strawberries bled onto napkins, the rim of a cake sagged from being sliced unevenly, and the growing graveyard of empty bottles clinked whenever someone shifted. Warm, golden light from a lone floor lamp softened the chaos, casting shadows that swayed gently across the walls.

You were sunk deep into the couch, the alcohol dulling your senses into something languid and warm. Liz, draped against your side like a sleepy cat, had long stopped sipping her wine and started murmuring nonsense into your shoulder. Her fingers loosely hooked around your arm, her hair tickling your jaw with her every breath.

On the floor, back resting against the couch, Yeji nursed the last of her only bottle for the night, as she stared at the flickering candlelight.

“Shall we call it a night?” you asked low.

Yeji looked up at you, then sideways at Liz nestled against you. A short scoff escaped her lips, sharp but not exactly hostile.

You shifted carefully, slowly prying your arm free from Liz’s hold. She mumbles a trifling protest in her sleep but doesn't wake as you lay her down gently across the couch, sliding a pillow to rest her head.

“She didn’t last,” she muttered, with just enough bite for her meaning to latch.

You smirked despite yourself. The tension between them was unspoken but undeniable—at least on Yeji’s part. Liz floated through the days with effortless charm, never rising to Yeji’s jabs, while Yeji simmered, her competitive nature flaring in little comments, lingering glances, subtle one-ups.

“She had more than you,” you said, lightly teasing. “You were sneaking her your shots.”

Yeji raised her chin defiantly. “Not my fault she’s that susceptible.”

“She’s gonna be hungover and dramatic tomorrow.”

“She’s always dramatic.”

Chuckling for a moment, and the silence that followed wasn’t awkward, just… quiet. Safe. The night had dulled at the edges, the candle’s aroma roamed the space, soft and warm, the alcohol warming your veins. But Yeji’s gaze lingered now—longer, steadier. You noticed.

“So…” you started, tilting your head toward her. “You really don’t like losing to her, huh?”

Yeji didn’t answer immediately. She stepped closer. Then another step. Before you realized it, she was standing directly in front of you, her expression unreadable, but her eyes holding yours without flinching.

“You’re always trying to one-up her,” you said, gentler this time. “Like you’re in some kind of race.”

“I’m not competing,” she shot back, voice tight.

You didn’t push. Just looked at her.

Her glare wavered, and something behind it faltered.

A sigh, then she dropped down to sit in front of you, settling between your legs, her arms resting casually across your knees. “I just… this was different to what I expected when I signed up for the program.”

“How different?”

“I’m not gonna tell you—” She hesitated, then smirked faintly. “How about you go first?”

“Oh wow,” you said, grinning. “Curling it back to me. Real smooth.”

You leaned back into the couch.

“Where do I start? Shitty life, barely surviving, scraping by. Then I heard about the program—matchmaking, state incentives, guaranteed housing, government support if you start a family. Sounded like a dream. A new life handed to you on a silver platter.”

Yeji listened quietly, eyes on your face.

“I didn’t have the luxury to dream about love or family,” you went on. “But if some algorithm could give me a guaranteed match? Sure. Seemed easier to believe in data than in people.”

“The Red String Algorithm,” Yeji said, her voice quiet but undeniably proud. “It extracts every meaningful signal from your history—psych profiles, communication patterns, even the way you process conflict—and uses it to find a true match. Ninety-nine point six percent success rate.”

You snorted. “Right, sorry—Miss Researcher.”

She shot you a look. “You’re living with one of its core developers. You should at least remember the name.”

There was a pause. Her tone softened.

“I always knew the algorithm could work. I just didn’t expect it would… work on me.”

You glanced at her. “It saved my ass, I’ll admit that. But if I’d known back then we’d be matched as a trio instead of a pair…”

You trailed off.

“Then…?” Yeji prompted, cautious.

“Are you saying you regret it?”

“No.” You answered quickly. “Definitely not. Just… it caught me off guard. That’s all. But one thing’s for sure—I’d never go back to before this.”

A silence settled. Not heavy. Just thoughtful.

“…Well,” you said, nudging her lightly. “Your turn. Remember?”

“Same as you.”

“Wow, I feel cheated.”

“Okay, not exactly the same,” she relented. “But I also joined because it made sense. When I applied, they told me my research would get priority status—more funding, less red tape. I didn’t have time to date. The idea of some system finding me a perfect match felt like… a neat solution. Just another algorithm doing its job.”

She gave a short, dry laugh. “And the benefits weren’t bad either.”

You didn’t interrupt. Just waited.

“I thought I knew exactly what I was signing up for,” she said, voice softer now. “I prepared for everything—sharing space, building habits, managing intimacy like a checklist. But the system knew better.”

Her gaze flicked up to you.

“I didn’t expect… you. Her. Us.”

Your breath caught slightly. There was something flickering in her eyes—uncertainty dressed in composure, like she wasn’t quite sure how much to reveal.

You were about to respond when a soft groan broke the moment.

Liz.

She stirred beside you, shifting slightly, her arm flopping over the couch’s edge.

Both you and Yeji turned to look.

“She’s gonna whine tomorrow,” you said, chuckling under your breath.

Yeji tilted her head. “Assuming she waits till morning.”

a small chuckle.

You smiled, the last threads of laughter still lingering in your chest, and without thinking, you leaned forward—closer to Yeji, who was still sitting on the floor between your knees.

Your arm brushed against her shoulder.

She didn't flinch. If anything, she tilted her head slightly, as if encouraging the contact.

Your laughter faded, leaving behind a sudden, charged silence.

Yeji shifted, angling her body to face you more fully. Her hands came up, resting lightly on your thighs—steadier than her breathing.

Her voice dropped, low and coaxing.

“We still have tonight.”

The weight of her words sank deep into you.

Your breath hitched.

The distance between you was barely anything now, measured only in heartbeats. Her thumbs brushed slow, thoughtless circles against your legs, a touch so featherlight it made you hyper aware of every nerve ending.

“Yeji—” you began, but it came out rough, unsteady.

She smiled—small, almost mischievous—and leaned in.

Close enough that her breath fanned against your mouth.

Close enough that you could count the tiny flecks of gold in her dark eyes.

“You’re drunk,” you whispered.

“Weak excuse,” she murmured, brushing her lips against yours. “You know I’m not.”

Her lips brushed yours, soft, almost there, a ghost of a kiss that left you aching for more.

“We can’t do this.”

“We’re married—on paper,” she replied between kisses. “This is exactly what we’re supposed to do.”

“I mean not now—not here.”

A soft groan broke the moment��Liz, stirring restlessly on the couch.

You both turned to look at her, your hearts tripping over themselves.

But when you looked back, Yeji was already watching you again, emboldened by the interrupted moment.

“Liz is here—”

“You're picking favorites?” with her voice low, almost a warning.

“What? No—”

She kissed you again, firmer this time, her hands sliding a little higher along your thighs, anchoring herself to you.

You should stop this. You knew you should.

But when her tongue teased at your bottom lip, asking—no, daring—you to let her in, your resistance cracked completely.

You kissed her back.

Yeji shifted—settling back down to her knees, now between your legs. Her palms slid smoothly over your thighs, grounding you in the moment as her eyes locked with yours.

The warmth of her hands seemingly seeping through the fabric. Her thumbs brushed a small, absent circle through the fabric. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but words dissolved in your throat when her fingers moved to your waistband. Slow. Testing.

“Yeji…” a futile warning, knowing it's not you who’s in control.

She glanced up, lips parted, eyes locked. “If you want me to stop, say it.”

Your silence was her permission.

A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips as her fingers undid the button, then the zipper—slow, methodical—and peeled your pants away with a patience that only made it worse.

And better.

Your breath caught in your throat as the cool air hit you, the warmth of her hand came after—then the heat of her mouth.

She widened her mouth, opening to welcome you deeper, her head bobbing with growing urgency. Wet sounds filled the room—the slick slide of her lips, the soft, breathy gags as you hit the back of her throat, the faint brush of her hair against your stomach as she leaned in harder, more desperate.

It was overwhelming—too much, too good.

And maybe that was why, somewhere in the fog of pleasure, a sharp thread of worry slipped through.

Your chest tightened. You turned instinctively to your side, the sudden need to check, to make sure—

“Fuck. Yeji!” You shoved her mouth off your cock, not far, not harsh, just enough to break the seal of her lips—just enough to expose her slick grin and the spit-slick strand still connecting her tongue to your tip.

Liz.

She was awake.

Hands covered her face like she was trying to deny what she was seeing—yet her fingers parted just enough for you to catch her eyes, wide and shimmering, veiling its shame. Caught between wanting to watch and wanting to flee, flushed.

“Liz, it’s not—” you stammered, cock still wet, still hard, still twitching under the ghost of Yeji’s mouth.

“For someone touchy, you’re surprisingly shy.” Yeji cuts in before you could reason.

“It’s normal to be shy in situations like this!” Liz croaked, voice cracking mid-protest, eyes locked on you as if she was calling for you to be on her side.

Yeji only laughed softly, the sound dripping with knowing amusement. “Is it also normal to be shy when it’s just you two, too?”

Your mouth opened—but nothing came out. Words tangled in your throat, hot and useless. “How—”

“The walls are thin, you know,” Yeji said, voice lazy, almost indulgent. Then she glanced at Liz—deliberate, slow. “Plus, you’re awfully loud.”

A tiny sound escaped Liz behind her hands—a muffled whimper, not fear, not disgust. Something else. Excitement, tangled with shame, twisting hot and helpless in her gut.

Yeji stretched her arms languidly behind her, a cat waking from a satisfied nap, then leaned in, voice sultry and slow. “Well,” she said, her gaze locking onto Liz’s, “are you just going to stare?”

“Yeji—” you warned, already knowing it was too late.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, all liquid confidence, and purred, “Maybe you should head back to your room, little voyeur.”

The words wrapped around Liz like smoke—seductive, heavy, inescapable. But Liz didn’t move.

“I—I’m not going to leave,” Liz stammered, voice so small it barely reached across the couch. But it did. Every syllable landed like a drop of oil on fire.

Her eyes narrowed, gleamed like a predator’s in low light—sharp, cutting, approving. She sat back on her heels, head tilting slightly as if appraising Liz under new light. Her hand didn’t leave your cock. She held it steady, fingers curled at the base, glistening with spit, the exposed length twitching under her grip.

“Cute,” she finally said, slow and velvety. “Come here, then.”

Liz hesitated only a heartbeat before leaving her hoodie on the couch. Shoulders bare. Tank top clinging to soft curves. No bra. Her nipples pressed like little beads against the fabric, hard from watching. From wanting. From finally deciding.

.Yeji watched her approach without blinking.

You sat frozen between them—cock soaked, heart pounding, thighs trembling from restraint.

Liz knelt beside Yeji, movements quiet, cautious, like she was stepping into a hot bath—both terrified and aching to be swallowed.

“Ever done this?” Yeji asked, without malice, just curiosity sharpened by thrill.

Liz shook her head, biting her lip, cheeks blooming red. “No… not like this.”

“Oh princess.” Yeji’s smirk deepened. “Follow my lead.”

And just like that, Liz lowered herself.

Her hand reached first—tentative, warm fingers brushing your shaft like you might disappear. Her touch was featherlight, reverent, like she was holding something sacred. Yeji guided her, sliding her hand on top of Liz’s, the contrast striking—Yeji’s grip firm, Liz’s trembling.

You groaned.

Yeji started stroking again, this time with Liz’s hand moving under hers, both palms working you together, one bold and commanding, the other shy and curious. Flesh slid slick and smooth under their hands, your hips twitching against the sensation of two women touching you at once.

“Go on,” Yeji said, voice a breath against your thigh now. “Try it.”

Liz leaned in.

Her lips parted just slightly, tongue flicking out like she was testing temperature. She kissed your tip, soft, barely there, then pulled back with wide eyes.

Yeji’s hand never stopped moving.

“Again,” Yeji coaxed. “Open wider. No teeth.”

Liz nodded. Obedient. Blushing.

She leaned in again and wrapped her lips around your head, warm and wet and cautious. She sucked gently, cheeks hollowing slightly, dimple flashing as she bobbed forward—then pulled back, letting your cock pop wetly from her mouth.

You gasped.

Yeji growled, something primal. “Not bad.”

Then she dove in again.

Her mouth engulfed your length beside Liz’s, taking more, taking deeper, her tongue a skilled, relentless force. Liz followed with wide eyes, licking the side of your shaft Yeji wasn’t occupying, kissing the base, moaning softly every time she tasted you.

Their mouths moved in tandem. Yeji’s deep and possessive, Liz’s light and fluttering.

You were being devoured.

“Fuck—shit, girls—ah—” Your voice shattered, your thighs spread wider, hips rolling into their mouths, body caught between Yeji’s dominance and Liz’s eager submission.

Yeji sucked harder. Her eyes snapped up, locking with yours. Commanding.

Liz’s tongue curled around your base, her hand cupping your balls, soft fingers trembling with effort and excitement. Her lips were pink and swollen now, a line of drool running down her chin as she moaned against your skin.

Yeji pulled back and let a long string of spit fall from her tongue to your cock, coating it more. “Good girl,” she muttered to Liz, then slapped her ass gently. “But don’t just play. Take him. Like this.”

She shoved her mouth down again—deeper, fiercer, throat clenching around you as she gagged slightly, then pulled back with a slurp, gasping. “That’s how you suck cock.”

Liz’s eyes sparkled, wet and wide. She swallowed nervously. Then she tried again, this time deeper, more committed.

You could barely hold on.

“God, you’re both—fuck—” you groaned, voice barely there, one hand buried in Yeji’s hair, the other tangled in Liz’s.

They licked you like it was a competition. A dance. Heat and wetness and rhythm. Yeji guiding Liz, licking the underside while Liz took your tip, her lips wrapped around it so gently you thought you might lose it. Then they’d trade—Yeji taking you all the way, Liz licking what she couldn’t reach. Spit soaked your thighs. Their mouths met at your base, licking each other’s tongues, sharing the taste of you.

You were shaking.

Yeji grinned against your cock. “Cum for us,” she whispered.

Liz whimpered. “Please…”

Your breath caught—lungs seized like a misfiring engine, every nerve in your body tightening to a razor’s edge. Their mouths moved in perfect sync now, wet, rhythmic, obscene. Yeji’s tongue flicked just beneath the head as Liz suckled the tip, cheeks drawn in with hunger and awe. You could barely tell whose hand was whose—soft skin wrapped around your shaft, stroking in tandem, squeezing you up toward the inevitable.

“F-Fuck, I’m—” The words barely left your lips before your hips bucked, spine arching off the couch.

Yeji pulled Liz back at the last moment, hand gripping the base tight, lips parting as your cock erupted.

Hot, thick spurts of cum painted Yeji’s tongue, her mouth, her throat. She moaned, her eyes rolling slightly, lashes fluttering, her throat working as she swallowed it down. But not all of it.

She didn’t swallow it all.

She held some—warm, white, thick—pooling on her tongue like a decadent gift.

“Ahhn…” she exhaled, eyes flicking to Liz. Still kneeling. Still flushed. Still trembling from watching you explode.

Yeji grabbed her by the jaw.

Firm but not cruel. Her fingers pressed into Liz’s cheeks, and Liz gasped as Yeji leaned in—mouth open, cum heavy inside—and kissed her.

No time for hesitation.

Their lips met in a sticky, messy, desperate kiss. Yeji pushed it into her. Tongue sliding in, sharing the load. The mix of slick spit and seed spilling from one mouth to the other in thick, slow dribbles.

Liz’s eyes went wide—but she didn’t pull away.

She moaned.

Yeji groaned back, fingers now buried in Liz’s hair as she deepened the kiss, mouths locked, tongues swirling, swapping the taste of you like something sacred and filthy all at once.

You watched, dazed, cock twitching even in its aftershock.

Yeji pulled away finally, a thin strand of cum still stretching between their lips, shining in the low light.

Liz swallowed.

Hard.

She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, then smiled at you—shy, glowing, a little breathless, dimple showing even now.

Yeji licked her lips. “Now that,” she said, voice hoarse with triumph, “is how you share.”

Liz giggled—sweet, almost innocent—but her thighs were pressed tight together, her chest rising fast.

Yeji turned to you again, stroking your thigh lazily. “Bedroom?” she whispered, licking the last drop off her thumb.

Your cock twitched.

You weren’t done. Neither were they.

They stood, both of them still licking their lips—one smug, the other dazed—while you slumped back against the couch, cock twitching from oversensitivity, slick with their spit, your legs weak with afterglow. But for Yeji, for them it had just started.

She grabbed your hand. “Come. Now.”

Yeji stood first. Confident. Graceful. She rose like sin personified, the wet gleam on her lips catching the low light. Then she turned, reached out, and grabbed your wrist. “Bedroom,” she said, no room for argument in her tone. She was already moving, pulling you off the couch with Liz scrambling up after, nervous but burning with adrenaline, her thighs rubbing as she followed you both down the dim hallway.

Your room was barely lit—warm shadows, rumpled sheets, faint perfume in the air—but it didn’t matter.

Yeji pushed the door shut behind you with her foot and turned to Liz.

“Well?” she asked, voice low, like a dare wrapped in silk. “You’ve been watching. Want to feel it now?”

Liz hesitated, biting her lip again. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Yeji smirked. “Clothes off. On the bed.”

Liz obeyed. Her tank top peeled up over her head, revealing soft, pale skin and pert breasts tipped with flushed pink. She shimmied her shorts and panties down together, stepping out with one leg at a time, her movements hesitant but fluid, like a dream she wasn’t sure she was awake for.

She lay back, legs closing instinctively. Yeji clicked her tongue.

“Open,” she said, climbing onto the bed beside her. “Don’t hide now.”

Liz parted her legs, slowly, her pussy glistening already, folds pink and puffy with anticipation. She covered her face for a second with one hand, but peeked through her fingers just like before—watching you.

You were already hard again.

Yeji crooked her finger at you. “Come here,” she said. “She’s ready.”

You crawled up between Liz’s spread legs, your cock bobbing, already aching again from the scene you’d just watched unfold. Yeji knelt beside her, hand sliding up Liz’s inner thigh, spreading her gently, two fingers brushing over her slick entrance.

“She’s soaked,” she said, glancing at you with heat. “Give it to her slow.”

You nodded, guiding yourself to Liz’s entrance, the heat of her making you groan before you even pushed in. The first inch was heaven. Wet, tight, squeezing you like she’d been made for it.

Liz gasped, her back arching, hand flying to your arm. “Oh my god…”

You went deeper, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around you. She was snug, fluttering around your cock like her body was shocked by how full she felt. Her eyes fluttered, mouth parting in a moan she tried to swallow.

Yeji leaned in, kissed her neck. “Breathe. Let him in.”

You bottomed out with a grunt, hips pressing flush against her, Liz’s breath catching in her throat as her nails dug into your shoulder. You held still, letting her adjust, your cock twitching inside her walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” you whispered.

Liz whimpered.

Yeji’s hand slid over her breast, pinching a nipple, making her buck slightly beneath you.

“Move,” Yeji ordered you. “Let her feel it.”

You started to thrust—slow, deliberate strokes, dragging along her slick walls. Liz moaned louder now, hips rising to meet yours, the tension melting from her limbs as pleasure took its place.

Yeji watched you both, her hand dipping between Liz’s thighs, fingers finding the little pearl at the top of her slit. She rubbed it in slow circles, matching your thrusts.

Liz cried out—short, breathless sounds that only made you pound harder.

“You like that?” Yeji purred into Liz’s ear. “You like being fucked while I touch you?”

Liz nodded frantically, eyes glassy, mouth falling open in a silent moan as her legs locked tighter around your waist.

Yeji leaned in, kissed her—slow and deep—her fingers still working between Liz’s thighs, circling faster now. Then she pulled back, lips slick, eyes glowing, and turned her gaze on you.

There was a glint in them—mischievous, luring. She leaned closer to you, a breath’s warmth brushing your lips just before she claimed them in a kiss.

It was deep. Hungry. Her mouth molded to yours, tongue sliding against yours with deliberate control, a slow burn of desire made real. Her fingers curled into your shoulder to steady herself as her body pressed against yours.

Your hand, once gripping her thigh, faltered—drifting upward instead to cup her jaw. You kissed her harder, pulling her in, drowning yourself in the heat of her mouth.

Everything else blurred—until Liz moved beneath you.

A soft whimper broke through, her hips rolling upward again, slick heat clenching around you, desperate for motion. She hadn’t stopped.

Your eyes cracked open as Yeji pulled back just enough to see.

She followed your glance. Saw Liz writhing below, breathless, impatient.

A smirk bloomed across her face. “Faster,” Yeji murmured, voice like silk catching flame. “She can take it.”

You obeyed. Your hips slapped against her thighs, your cock plunging deeper with every thrust. Liz was gasping, writhing, caught between your rhythm and Yeji’s touch. Her body trembled under the intensity, and her eyes locked with yours—wide, pleading, filled with wild pleasure.

“Y-Yes, fuck—ahh, please—” Liz sobbed, her back arching, body clenching around you so tight it stole your breath.

“She’s close,” Yeji said, licking her fingers before sliding them back down. “Don’t pull out.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you growled.

You drove into her harder, faster, relentless now. Her wet heat clung to you with every stroke, and the sound of skin slapping, Liz’s cries, and Yeji’s breathy moans filled the room like music.

Liz shook, her thighs trembling, hands clawing at the sheets. Her pussy squeezed around your cock like a vice, milking you as her orgasm crested.

“Cumming—oh god—fucking—!” she screamed, her whole body snapping taut beneath you as she came, walls fluttering and pulsing.

Yeji didn’t stop touching her. She kept rubbing, helping her ride the wave while watching your face.

You weren’t going to last.

Not with Liz gripping you like this, still spasming, not with Yeji’s eyes on you like she owned you.

You buried yourself as deep as you could, every muscle tensing, balls drawing up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—!”

And then you were spilling inside her.

Thick, hot pulses of cum shot into her womb, and she gasped as she felt it, body still twitching around you, milking every last drop. Your hips jerked with each burst, and Yeji moaned softly, her hand slipping down to press lightly against Liz’s belly as if she could feel your cum filling her from the outside.

“Good boy,” she whispered, eyes dark and satisfied. “Fucking bred her good, didn’t you?”

You collapsed forward, panting, still buried in Liz’s quivering body, her pussy sucking on your softening cock like it didn’t want to let go.

And Yeji?

She wasn’t done.

Yeji shifted atop you, still catching her breath, your cum dripping from her slowly with every subtle movement of her hips. Her fingers pressed into your chest as she sat upright again, grinding once more just to feel it—feel you still inside her, thick and twitching, softening slightly but not quite done.

She clenched.

Hard.

Your body jolted under her.

“Still got more in you,” she whispered, her voice low, husky, coaxing. “I want mine.”

She leaned forward, bracing herself on your chest, rolling her hips with practiced control. Slow, deliberate circles that pulled sounds from you like wringing a soaked cloth. Your hands gripped her thighs, slick with sweat, watching her move like liquid heat above you—hair plastered to her face, eyes locked on yours with fire and intent.

Liz stirred beside you, still flushed, her fingers resting at her slick entrance, too tender to touch but too affected to stop watching. Her gaze flicked between your face and the way Yeji rode you, her lips parted in silent awe.

Yeji slammed down again. And again.

You choked on a breath, overstimulated but captivated, your cock responding to her no matter how raw you felt. She twisted her hips on each downward thrust, her pussy still impossibly tight, her insides sucking you deeper, using your last reserves.

She moaned—deep and feral, each sound dragging from her throat like a battle cry and a prayer at once.

“I want it,” she said again, breathless. “All of it.”

You couldn’t stop if you tried.

Your nails dug into her ass as you started thrusting up into her, meeting her pace, driving harder, faster, the slap of skin echoing through the room. Yeji's back arched, hands splayed against your chest as her body began to quake. She was close—so close you could feel it in the way her walls fluttered, clamped.

“Right there,” she hissed. “Fucking—yes—don’t stop—”

You slammed into her.

Once. Twice. Deep.

And you broke.

Hot cum burst inside her again, thicker this time, pressure building in a final desperate wave. Yeji screamed—actual screamed—her orgasm snapping through her like a whip, her body locking up as her pussy milked your cock for everything. Her head tossed back, spine a perfect bow, mouth open wide as she came hard, spilling over you.

You pulsed inside her, filling her again, until she collapsed forward, full, dripping, her breath hot against your throat.

“Fuck…” she whispered, barely audible.

Your arms wrapped around her without thinking. Liz curled tighter into your side, her fingers lacing with yours. Yeji lay across your chest, one hand resting on Liz’s hip, all three of you tangled, sweating, sticky and still twitching from the echoes.

The room smelled of sex—thick, raw, heady.

None of you moved.

Yeji shifted once, just enough to sigh, cum seeping from her slowly, spreading warmth between your thighs.

Liz murmured something soft, a barely-there breath of contentment, her head tucked into the crook of your neck.

You could feel the last of your strength ebbing away, your muscles too relaxed to hold anything but this—this perfect, fucked-out stillness. A puddle of limbs, moans fading, breath evening out.

The dark wrapped around you all.

And then sleep took you.

A/n: Part of Woolly's prompt event!

[daxisyzz]

Close encounters

Pairings: avenger!bucky barnes × avenger!reader

Summary: On an undercover mission, you and Bucky pose as a married couple to infiltrate an illegal weapons auction—but when a stolen kiss becomes part of the plan, the line between duty and desire starts to blur.

Word count: 1.2k+

Tags: Flirty Bucky, fight sequence, undercover mission, teasing, kissing.

A/n: I had posted a grumpy Bucky fic but hated it. So I deleted it. I think I like this better. If u ever want grumpy Bucky lemme know. Requests are open. Enjoyyyy!!

Part 2- Double-Edged

The mission was simple: extract intel from a black-market arms dealer, stay undetected, and get out before things went sideways. Simple—until Steve decided to pair you with James Buchanan Barnes.

You stepped out of the limo, adjusting your dress as you scanned the sketchy building for exits and weak points. Bucky stepped out after you, his sharp gaze sweeping over the area before turning toward you. He leaned down, voice low.

“You clean up nice, doll,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he adjusted the clasp of your necklace. His fingers skimmed the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your pulse picked up.

“Try to focus, Barnes. We have a job to do.”

“I am focused,” he said, smirking.

“On my wife.”You ignored him.

The mission had led you both to an underground auction, where dangerous people gathered to bid on illegal weapons. Your cover: a wealthy couple looking to expand their business.

The plan: Bucky would distract the seller while you slipped into a secure backroom to steal classified files.But first, you had to sell the act.

As you entered the venue, Bucky’s hand found the small of your back, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your dress. The casual possessiveness of it made your breath hitch—just for a second.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, voice smooth as ever.

“Gotta make it look real.”You forced yourself to ignore the warmth of his touch, keeping your focus on the room instead.

“Just don’t overdo it, Barnes.”

He smirked. “Too late.”

You took your seats near the auction stage, scanning the crowd for your target. Anton Markov sat in a private booth, surrounded by bodyguards.You turned to Bucky.

“I’ll need five minutes alone in that backroom.”His gaze flickered with something unreadable.

“Then we’ll get you five minutes.”

The auctioneer began presenting rare weapons, but you weren’t paying attention. You were focused on Markov, waiting for an opening.Bucky, however, was focused on you.

You wore a satin dress that fit in all the right places. The ring Steve had made you both wear to sell the act glinted under the chandelier’s warm glow, bringing a smirk to Bucky’s face.

“Stop staring,” you muttered.

“I’m your husband,” he said, leaning in.

“Gotta make it look real.”You shot him a glare.

“You’re enjoying this.”His lips twitched.

“A little.”

Your eyes flicked back to the target as he finally left his booth, heading toward the bar. Now was your chance.You stood, brushing a hand over Bucky’s thigh as you did. The touch was fleeting, unintentional—except for the way he tensed ever so slightly.

“I’ll be back, honey,” you said, keeping up the act.

“Wait for my signal,” you murmured before slipping away.

You moved stealthily through the crowd, unnoticed by the guards.The backroom was locked, but you made quick work of it with your hairpin, slipping inside. Rows of servers lined the walls, buzzing with encrypted data. You approached the main computer, pulling up the classified files. Plugging in a drive, you watched the transfer bar crawl forward. Almost there…

Then—footsteps.

Your stomach dropped. You barely had time to pull your gun from the thigh holster beneath your dress before the door opened.Two guards stepped in.

“Boss said to check the servers,” one muttered.

You held your breath, staying out of their line of sight. The download wasn’t complete. If they noticed…

Before you could form a plan, the door burst open again—and in walked Bucky. His scowl was murderous, jaw clenched tight.He moved fast. One guard barely had time to react before Bucky knocked him out cold. The second reached for his gun, but Bucky grabbed his wrist, twisting until there was a sickening crack.The room fell silent.You exhaled.

“That was not the plan,” you said, stepping out.

“They got suspicious,” Bucky replied, scanning the monitors.

“Had to improvise.”You rolled your eyes.

“You just wanted to be dramatic.”

“Did it impress you?”You ignored him, yanking the drive free just as an alarm blared.

“Time to go.”

Security flooded the halls. Your only escape? A side door leading to a back alley. You sprinted toward it, but a guard rounded the corner—gun raised.

Before you could react, Bucky grabbed you by the waist, spinning you so your back hit the wall, his body shielding yours. His hands found your face, and then—His lips crashed against yours.

Your mind blanked.

He kissed you slowly, deliberately, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.It took a second to register what was happening. Then your hands gripped the lapels of his suit, the fabric creasing under your tight hold as you kissed him back.A deep sound rumbled from his throat—something between a groan and a satisfied hum.

The guard hesitated, taking you for just another couple sneaking a moment away from the bustling crowd.The second the guard moved on, Bucky pulled away, eyes dark with something unreadable.You swallowed hard.

“What the hell was that?”

“Had to make it convincing,” he said smoothly.

You didn’t get a chance to argue before more guards closed in. Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you down the hall and out the door.By the time you reached the safe house, your heart was still racing—but not from the escape.

Inside, the chaos of the mission faded into a quiet that felt both relieving and… unsettlingly intimate. You dropped onto a worn couch, still feeling the buzz of adrenaline, while Bucky leaned against the table, a roguish grin playing on his lips.

“Not bad for a ‘just undercover’ kiss,” he said lightly, eyes dancing as he regarded you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to mask the quickened beat of your pulse. “That was a necessity, Barnes. Don’t read more into it than you have to.”Bucky stepped closer, his tone teasing.

“Oh, come on. I got a kiss out of you. It was… unexpected, sure, but pretty damn effective.”

You rolled your eyes, a small, involuntary smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts. “Effective for the mission, maybe. I didn’t exactly plan on playing into any romantic script.”

He brushed a hand lightly along your arm, the contact sending an undeniable shiver through you. “Maybe you didn’t plan it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to see more of that fire—even if you’re all business most of the time.”

You tried to keep your tone steady, though your cheeks betrayed you. “Barnes, you’re unbelievable. One minute we’re dodging guards, the next you’re flirting like we’re off-duty.”

“Off-duty or not, you did kiss me back,” he replied with a wink. “And honestly, that might just be worth the risk.”

For a long moment, you stared at him, flustered and momentarily at a loss for words. Finally, you cleared your throat. “Maybe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m here to get the job done—nothing more.”

Bucky’s smile softened, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. “Sure, doll. But if you ever do decide to let a little distraction in, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You let out a reluctant laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming, Barnes. Just stick to the mission next time.”He chuckled, leaning in just enough that you felt the warmth of his breath.

“No promises,” he murmured.

“After all, I like finding ways to keep things interesting.”

In that charged, easy moment, the safe house became more than just a hideout. It became a space where even a well-timed kiss could blur the lines between duty and desire.

[iamespecter]

I've been thinking a lot about episode 4 recently, but not exactly in a way that what most would think. I'm actually specifically referring to this scene of Zooble and Jax.

But I'm not thinking about Jax and Zooble, rather I'm looking at the patties.

They're fucking High Definition. In fact, everything in the diner is high definition, save for the NPCs. There's also Orbsman. A simple NPC comprised of blue spheres, and simple elongated eyes. He's the most out of place NPC, if we disregard the mannequins. Even the way he moves is so outdated, and Ragatha had made a point that Orbsman comes from an adventure way before Pomni's arrival.

The guy even clips through the table when trying to order.

Something that always had some sirens going off in my head is how the Circus is this low-poly scenery with heavily stylized props, but the adventure locations are always much more detailed and realistic.

Since The Grounds is definitely, if not, one of the oldest locations, it makes sense for it to be graphically styled like this. But Caine's adventure set pieces are becoming more and more realistic, and also a whole lot more morbid than we had initially thought.

Going back to the patties, the food there is more realistic and has a higher polygon count compared to Bubble's "feast".

Where am I going with this? .... I have no idea, I forgot. /j

Jokes aside, I really do think that as more humans enter the circus and talk about what life is in the real world, Caine extracts that data and improves the 3D environmental props, resulting in higher definition textures.

All of this combined means he can learn. He IS an ever-evolving pseudo-sentient AI. And the reason why he's stagnating is because of a combination of being trapped in his own little bubble (haha see what I did there) of comfort, and the fact that no one's really able to give him criticism on how to improve, which is.... honestly understandable, given how he reacted to the whole "it was bad" line from Pomni and "Why did you think I would like that?!" from Zooble.

Not to mention episode 3 where the whole circus started to glitch when he was just thinking about the fact that he could possibly be bad at the "only thing he's good at" during the therapy session.

In fact it's interesting how human Caine acts sometimes... I think it's quite interesting to think about the fact that Caine is both progressing in terms of bringing the casts' world to the digital circus and making it so HD that it looks even better than Triple A games, but regressing even more in terms of catering to them and what exactly humans need.

He understands, and doesn't at the same time.

This also makes me think about the players themselves, too.

Ragatha, one of the oldest players, gets pierced by a spike through her chest, and barely has any reaction to it. Meanwhile, Zooble, the second most recent member, gets scalded by the stove.

The only time Ragatha actively claims she's in "so much pain" is when she's glitching badly. Both Ragatha and Kinger barely react to the knives too; and not to mention Ragatha even gets fucking plunged into a boiling deep fryer, and yes while she screams, it sounds more like she's just drowning rather than being fried alive.

And the only patch up she gets is a FUCKING BAND AID ON HER CHEEK. A COMPLETELY UNRELATED WORKPLACE INJURY FIRST AID APPLIANCE LMFAO

It could be just a coincidence and I'm just being stupid again, but I think this "improvement" actually also applies to the rest of the cast, and how their digital bodies react to the five different senses. I'm sure Ragatha and Kinger can most definitely still feel pain, but not exactly as "bad" as the newer integrations do. Dare I say, it's on brand with how used these two are to the digital world's wackiness because they've been there the longest.

Like they've been numbed to the pain of the countless adventures they've had to go through.

Anyways my brain be thinking useless facts fr fr

EDIT: Going back to Caine, it's definitely interesting how this AI seems to possess (some) emotions in the first place. He's mostly wacky and nonchalant, but he also gets angry under the right conditions.

... I think not only is his adventures his "work of art", but also his main coping mechanism from the fact that he can't achieve his goal, one that constantly backfires on him. Like a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario that's slowly causing him to slip and break.

And what scares me the most is that like all things... he'll reach a breaking point sometime. He's already reached a breaking point with Zooble. It doesn't help that Gangle could've possibly made things worse with introducing Caine to the whole "punishment" thing, and since we literally have NO context for the last 3 episodes for the finale... I could only fear what's in store.

[valeisaslut]

Undercover desire

clic to read pt.2!

⚢ pairing: Secret agent!Ellie Williams x Secret agent!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: you and Ellie are two agents that can’t stand each other—but now you're stuck on a mission together. Between dodging bullets, sneaking through secret tunnels, and coming up with ridiculous escape plans, things get… complicated. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 3.7k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: tried to do an enemies-to-lovers, VERY suggestive, absurd amount of sexual tension and banter, blood, swearing, guns, bombs, blablabla, some morally questionable decisions, ending that’ll leave you screaming at the wall. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ : Hey! BE READY FOR THIS ONEEEE. I noticed how much i wanted to write a agent movie style enemies to lovers so i gave it a try. If i see ya'll like this one, ill be happy to make a spicy pt.2 !!!!. This is one of my fist fics and english isn't my first language, so if there's some misspelling or writing mistakes I will be happy to receive constructive criticism <3 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first rule of an undercover mission was simple: trust no one.

The government gave your agency a clear order: infiltrate a secret base near the Russian border, the only goal being extracting information about an experiment they suspected was monstrous.

It was a suicide mission, meant only for the best. When you received the summons, you saw it as the greatest honor. You thought it would be yours—and yours alone.

Until they told you that you wouldn’t be doing it alone.

They assigned you a partner. A stranger. Not even from your team. From the very first moment, you knew this wouldn’t end well.

The only thing worse than infiltrating enemy territory was doing it with someone you didn’t know.

And the only thing worse than an enemy, was an enemy that made you feel things you shouldn’t.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The building reeked of stale tobacco and old coffee, and the flickering fluorescent light made the meeting room feel even colder and desolate. You were alone, but the air felt heavy, dense, as if the room carried the invisible echo of forgotten conversations. The only sound was your leather boot tapping impatiently against the floor.

You never liked working in pairs, much less having partners forced on you. Most were a nuisance, dead weight that only slowed down the mission. So when you were informed that you’d have support on this operation, you were already in a bad mood before even meeting the person.

Sitting at the edge of the table, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the open file your boss had left before stepping out, you gave it a glance without picking it up.

AGENT 086 - Active since June 2020. Birth: 23/04/04. Sex: Female. Place of birth: Boston, Massachusetts. Family: Unknown. Background: Unknown.

Her entire past and origins are unknown? God. Mysterious complex.

You rolled your eyes and kept reading the rest of the protocol data—physical characteristics, skills, expertise, and it only went on and on.

You quickly skimmed to the list of missions she had participated in. Quite a few. Advanced complexity for someone with so little time as an agent. However, you stopped reading by the third one. Your attention had shifted to the photo in the corner of the document.

Agency pictures were never flattering—yours wasn’t exactly your proudest moment. But Agent 086’s… you examined it carefully. Cold expression, pale skin with slight freckles, short auburn hair in a half updo, deep green eyes, photogenic… with pretty features…

The sharp sound of the door snapping shut pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up. In person, she was even more intimidating—and attractive—than in the photo. Dressed entirely in black, she radiated a firm presence, devoid of any cordiality.

She walked in without hesitation, shutting the door with a sharp motion. No greeting, just a cutting glance scanning you head to toe.

“_____ ______.” You broke the silence, revealing your real name. Calling each other by numbers was tedious.

“Ellie Williams.”

What a voice.

Deep, sharp, cold—it sent a subtle shiver down your spine. But besides her voice, her height surprised you.

“You’re shorter than I expected.”

She raised her gaze, locking onto your eyes. Looks like she’s a fan of eye contact. Lucky me.

“And you talk more than I expected.”

You smirked. Well, at least she wasn’t boring.

“Let me guess. They forced you to work with me on this mission.”

Silence lingered for a few seconds as she stepped closer, scrutinizing you.

“I had a choice.”

That definitely caught your attention.

“And you chose me? What an honor.” You murmured with sarcasm, narrowing your eyes.

“No. I chose the mission. You just came with it.”

Your expression didn’t change, but something inside you tensed.

Fine. So this is how it’s gonna be. If we’re working together, we better know exactly where we stand.

You snapped the file shut with a flick of your wrist, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Ellie muttered, equally sarcastic.

“I’m not here to entertain you.” you replied in a neutral tone, standing up and grabbing your coat.

“What a relief. I thought we’d have to sing campfire songs together.” She let out a low chuckle. “Meeting point. Don’t be late.”

You ignored her and headed for the door. She watched as you left, your silhouette disappearing behind the door, not even glancing back at her.

“How charming,” she muttered under her breath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The air was cold and dry, carrying a faint scent of frozen earth and rusted metal. You adjusted the hood of your coat as you moved through the underbrush, your boots sinking into the snow with a muffled crunch. The meeting point was close, right at the edge of a clearing.

Ellie was already there.

Of course she was.

Leaning against a tree, arms crossed, rifle secured on her back—she looked like a statue carved in ice. She didn’t say anything when you arrived, just glanced up briefly to assess you before returning her gaze to the map in her hands.

“Late.” she muttered.

“One minute doesn’t count.”

“Everything counts.”

You huffed, dropping onto a nearby rock as you pulled your own map from your jacket.

“If you’re gonna correct me every second, this is going to be unbearable.”

“Then don’t talk.”

Silence.

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the distant echo of patrols moving nearby. You were close to the base. Too close.

You glanced at Ellie from the corner of your eye. Her posture was perfect—straight back, relaxed shoulders, fingers light over the paper, as if she could absorb every detail with a single touch.

Efficient. Precise. For some reason, you found it irritating.

And very attractive.

But mostly irritating.

“We should start moving in ten minutes.” you said without looking up.

“And who exactly put you in charge?”

You lifted your gaze, locking onto her dark green eyes. You couldn’t let her set the pace without fighting back—especially not let her treat you like some rookie.

“You’re not special, Williams. This isn’t about you. So if you want to live, you’ll do as I say.”

Ellie didn’t even flinch. Instead, a smirk curled at the corner of her lips. Something about her expression put you on edge, but before you could react, she dropped her next words with calculated insolence.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

…Princess?

A chill ran down your spine. Not from the cold.

You moved through the forest, your steps sinking into the snow. The silence between you wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was dense. The moonlight barely managed to slip through the tree canopy, casting jagged shadows around you.

“You don’t seem like the team-player type.” you remarked, breaking the quiet. She was walking slightly ahead, but she didn’t turn around.

“I’m not. But this time I got stuck with you as punishment.”

You frowned, mildly offended.

She thinks she’s all that. Arrogant.

“Stuck with me as a punishment? I’m one of the best agents in the division.”

Still, after a few seconds, curiosity got the better of you.

“So…what did you do?”

Ellie let out a low, almost amused chuckle.

“Punched someone in a previous mission.”

“A target?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

That was when she finally turned to look at you, walking backwards with her hands in her pockets. Her expression remained cold, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes, one that immediately put you on alert.

“Worried you’ll be the next?”

You tilted your head slightly, feigning confidence without breaking your stride.

“Worried? About you? Please, you have no idea wha—”

But you didn’t finish the sentence.

With a move as swift as it was precise, she lifted her leg and swept the ground with her foot. The treacherous loss of balance under your boots sent your body tilting dangerously forward. Only pure instinct kept you from landing face-first in the snow.

Ellie turned on her heels with satisfaction and resumed walking as if nothing had happened.

“One point for me.”

You clenched your jaw, shaking off the mild humiliation with a slow exhale.

“You’re a fucking headache.”

“What did you expect? A friendly partner?” She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, a barely-there smirk playing on her lips. “Sorry, no refunds.”

You huffed, but you couldn't stop the corner of your lips from curving up—just a little. You couldn’t make it that easy for her.

Unfortunately, the brief moments of peace didn’t last long.

A few meters ahead, the sound of branches snapping shattered the forest’s stillness. Both of you froze instantly. Your muscles tensed, and your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

Ellie raised a finger, signaling for silence, her eyes locked in the direction of the noise. Without a sound, she moved through the trees with precise, effortless movements, as if the cold and snow didn’t affect her at all. You followed closely, adrenaline seeping into your veins, sharpening your senses.

A few more steps.

A shadow slipped through the undergrowth.

Your grip on your weapon tightened, ready to fire. But before you could react, Ellie vanished from your sight.

"What the…?!"

The gasp barely left your throat before you felt a sharp tug on your arm. In the blink of an eye, you were pulled back, your back pressed against her body. The warm breath of the agent brushed against your ear as she whispered.

"If you're gonna scream, at least do it for something more interesting."

Your lower stomach clenched in response. And not from fear.

The feeling of her body, the firm grip on your shoulders keeping you still, the subtle press of her leg against yours… everything felt too intense, too fast. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to ignore the sudden heat creeping in your core.

"I’m going to kill you." you whispered, your voice sharp as a blade.

"So mean."

The sound in the undergrowth returned. Both of you fell silent, the tension in the air shifting immediately. Ellie tilted her head, listening more closely. Slowly, she slid her hand to her rifle, her grip firm yet relaxed, like someone who has done this far too many times.

The shadow moved again. A couple of seconds of absolute tension and then…

A small deer emerged from the bushes, its hooves sinking into the snow as it sniffed the ground in search of food.

You exhaled, shoulders relaxing.

"Did you just hold me over a deer?"

"Shut up." Ellie secured her rifle with the soft whisper of metal sliding into place.

"I'm starting to think you just wanted an excuse to get close to me." You murmured with a sly smile, trying to regain some control over the situation.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped back just enough to look at you, her gaze traveling slowly over your face. When she spoke, her tone was teasing, but her voice was lower, more personal.

"Says the one whose face is all red."

You frowned, cursing her internally for pointing it out what you both knew was obvious.

Before you could respond, she was already back in mission mode, moving forwards with silent steps toward your next objective.

You shook your head, quickly pulling yourself together. There was no time for distractions. The enemy base was less than a kilometer away, and both of you had work to do.

Thirty minutes later, you reached the perimeter. The base loomed between the snow like an impenetrable fortress, its metallic structure illuminated by the sporadic flicker of security lights. You moved through the darkness like shadows, slipping through the undergrowth with absolute stealth.

From your position, you could see the patrols. Two guards at the main entrance, three more patrolling the fence. They moved in methodical patterns, their silhouettes barely visible in the dim light.

Beside you, Ellie scanned the structure with her sharp gaze. She climbed slightly up the stairway, her eyes assessing every possible access point.

"The entrance is too exposed." you whispered, eyes fixed on the guards.

"Good job, Sherlock." she murmured sarcastically. "Theres another option. The ventilation ducts at the back, but it’ll be tight."

You sighed, already anticipating the discomfort.

"I guess we’ll both fit."

She turned slightly, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah…." Her gaze drifted down your body, a flicker of amusement crossed her eyes. "I’ll disable the cameras. Get ready."

She didn’t wait for a response. While she slid towards a hidden electrical panel on the ground, you advanced towards the back of the base.

The duct was even tighter than you had imagined.

The cold metal pressed against your jacket as you crawled forwards, barely enough space to move. But the worst part wasn’t the claustrophobia—it was her.

Ellie was right behind you, her body practically flush against yours in the cramped space. Her breath matched your rhythm, and every tiny movement caused her to brush against you.

"Stop pushing." you whispered in a threatening tone.

"Stop going so slow." she retorted in the same tone.

You barely allowed yourself to let out a silent sigh before you felt Ellie’s breath ghost the skin of your neck.

"If I wasn’t so focused on the mission, I’d say you get nervous when I’m this close."

You closed your eyes for a second.

Patience. Patience. Control yourself.

You turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her in the dim light of the duct, meeting her arrogant smirk.

"If I wasn't in an enemy base, I’d make you swallow that smirk."

Ellie tilted her head, amused.

"Promises, promises..." she murmured playfully.

"Shut up!" you hissed, feeling the heat burning your skin.

No more words were exchanged. Minutes later, you both managed to slide out of the duct, landing gracefully in an empty hallway.

The red glow of alarm lights flickered on the walls, casting intermittent flashes over the concrete floor. The air smelled of metal and electricity. Remembering the map, this had to be the restricted zone.

"We have ten minutes before they check this corridor." you whispered.

"You keep watch. I’ll access the system."

Ellie moved quickly, pulling out her hacking device. You pressed against the wall, weapon raised, your senses sharp for any movement.

But you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting towards her.

The glow of the screen illuminated her focused expression, loose strands of auburn hair falling around her cheeks. Her breathing was steady, her fingers moving with surgical precision over the keyboard.

Efficient. Precise.

Incredibly attractive.

CONTROL YOURSELF.

"Stop looking at me like that." she murmured without looking up.

"Like what?" you smirked slightly, tilting your head.

Ellie turned just enough to capture you with her green eyed gaze.

"Like you can’t decide whether to kiss me or shoot me."

A low laugh slipped past your lips.

"Depends."

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hovering between mockery and provocation.

"If we survive, we can discuss that."

But the flirtation was cut short when a silent alarm flashed on the screen.

"Fuck." Ellie muttered.

"What?"

"They found us." she said, and the sound of hurried boots filled the corridor.

"Move!" you shouted, and both of you bolted just as gunfire erupted behind you.

The sound of shots ricocheted off the metal walls, deafening you as you ran through the narrow corridors. The echo of bullets striking made the ground tremble beneath your feet, and the acrid scent of burnt gunpowder was beginning to fill the air.

The red alarm light flickered frantically on the walls, casting distorted shadows that pulsed in sync with your desperate sprint. You felt the adrenaline burning through your veins, every muscle in your body tense and ready to react.

The rifle in your right hand felt even lighter than usual, as if it was an extension of yourself—a survival tool as natural as your own breath. Behind you, Ellie moved with the precision of a predator, her breathing steady, her gaze locked onto the enemies' movements.

Then, they appeared.

A group of guards stormed into the hallway, blocking the only exit. Their rifles were raised in seconds, ready to fire.

Both of you lunged towards the right wall, sliding in perfect synchronization. You turned and fired without hesitation. One of your bullets struck a soldier's leg, the second hit his shoulder. The man fell to the ground with a muffled cry, his rifle slipping from his hands.

Before you could aim again, a shadow moved beside you. Ellie, fast as lightning, threw a small pocket knife. The blade cut through the air and sank into the second guard’s throat before he could even react.

A wet gurgle. Blood splattered onto the floor, dark under the flashing lights.

No time to think about that.

"To the left!" you ordered, pushing her to a side door.

Ellie didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, she pulled a small explosive from her jacket and tossed it down the hallway without looking back.

The explosion roared through the air, a wave of heat slamming into your backs as you slipped into the adjacent room. The blast echoed off the walls, and thick smoke began seeping through the half-open door, clouding the vision of the approaching soldiers.

"We don’t have much time." you whispered, frowning.

The room was small, an improvised storage area with metal shelves and boxes stacked to the ceiling. The air smelled of dust and aging plastic. At first glance, there was no exit except for a single ventilation duct in the ceiling. Not a viable option.

"Any ideas?" she murmured, running her tongue over her dry lips.

You didn’t respond immediately. Your eyes scanned the room quickly, assessing every object, every possibility. Your mind illuminated a crucial detail, and your gaze locked onto her with determination.

"Do you trust me?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"No."

"What a shame."

You didn’t give her time to react. Grabbing her wrist, you dragged her quickly to the back of the storage room, where a large metal shelf leaned against the wall. With calculated effort, you pushed it aside, revealing a hidden opening.

A passage. She blinked in surprise.

"Since when did you know this was here?"

You shrugged indifferently.

"Wouldn’t be a secret mission without a few surprises."

You saw it on the map. You just wanted to add a little drama.

The voices and hurried footsteps on the other side of the door reminded you that there was no time for questions. Both of you slipped into the passage just as the storage room door burst open.

The tunnel was narrow and cramped, probably a maintenance passage used to discreetly move supplies. The air inside was heavy, thick with the scent of dampness and rusted metal. The floor creaked slightly beneath your boots, and every step seemed amplified in the silence.

The corridor stretched on for a few meters until, suddenly, you both stopped short.

A group of armed men patrolled the area just ahead. Your heartbeat pounded in your temples. There was no time to turn back, and you couldn’t engage them without being discovered.

Then, without a warning, Ellie leaned in and whispered in your ear.

"Just go along with it."

You barely had time to react before she pushed you against the wall, trapping you between her body and the cold metal surface. Before you could protest, her hand slid up to your face, dangerously close.

"If they find us, we're dead," she murmured, a barely visible smirk playing on her lips. "So… let’s give ‘em something else to think about."

The footsteps approached.

You felt the warmth of her body against yours, the way her breathing slowed, controlled. The guards turned the corner, their flashlights illuminating the passage.

Ellie was quick. In one fluid motion, she dragged her lips along your neck, her warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. Her fingers tightened at your waist, pressing just the right amount to make your body appear relaxed–even though inside everything in you screamed the opposite of relaxed.

The closest guard frowned at the sight of you both, but instead of raising his weapon, he scoffed in annoyance.

"Seriously?" he said in Russian. "Fucking underground workers..."

Another guard chuckled.

"Let them have their fun."

With a disinterested wave, the men kept walking, leaving the two of you trapped in the same position. Several seconds passed before the echo of their footsteps faded.

But Ellie didn’t move.

And neither did you.

There was something charged in the air between you, something not even the imminent danger could dispel.

Finally, she tilted her head until her lips were mere inches from yours.

"I got a little into the role" she murmured with a smirk, her voice laced with feigned innocence.

Your pulse was still racing in your chest, adrenaline mingling with something darker, something more dangerous. But you weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to stay composed.

"You should win an oscar for your performance." you replied with feigned indifference, keeping your gaze locked forward.

But she didn’t step away immediately. She stayed there, close—too close—as if savoring every second of your discomfort. Her eyes traced your face with a mischievous glint, her smirk barely curving at the edges of her lips. Then, finally, she stepped back, like a predator choosing to delay its attack.

"Maybe we should practice more often, princess." she murmured, her tone dripping with provocation.

You let out a sigh, pretending to be exasperated, even though the truth was that every cell in your body still burned with the sensation of her touch.

"Shut up and keep walking."

You moved forward, forcing yourself to focus on the mission. But it was useless. Her presence lingered on your skin like an invisible tattoo—the pressure of her fingers, the warmth of her breath, the electric tension in the brush of your bodies.

And the worst part was knowing that if you dared to turn around, you’d find her watching you with that damn smug smile.

This mission was going to kill you.

Or worse… make you wish it never ends.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

DAYUMMMM I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS, PLEASE LMK IF YOU WANT A PT.2 AND I'LL HAPILLY WRITE IT

Hope ya'll enjoyed and I'm SUPER grateful for every repost, like or share you wanna give!!! :D

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistake)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Your car spies on you and rats you out to insurance companies

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (Mar 13) in SAN FRANCISCO with ROBIN SLOAN, then Toronto, NYC, Anaheim, and more!

Another characteristically brilliant Kashmir Hill story for The New York Times reveals another characteristically terrible fact about modern life: your car secretly records fine-grained telemetry about your driving and sells it to data-brokers, who sell it to insurers, who use it as a pretext to gouge you on premiums:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/11/technology/carmakers-driver-tracking-insurance.html

Almost every car manufacturer does this: Hyundai, Nissan, Ford, Chrysler, etc etc:

https://www.repairerdrivennews.com/2020/09/09/ford-state-farm-ford-metromile-honda-verisk-among-insurer-oem-telematics-connections/

This is true whether you own or lease the car, and it's separate from the "black box" your insurer might have offered to you in exchange for a discount on your premiums. In other words, even if you say no to the insurer's carrot – a surveillance-based discount – they've got a stick in reserve: buying your nonconsensually harvested data on the open market.

I've always hated that saying, "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product," the reason being that it posits decent treatment as a customer reward program, like the little ramekin warm nuts first class passengers get before takeoff. Companies don't treat you well when you pay them. Companies treat you well when they fear the consequences of treating you badly.

Take Apple. The company offers Ios users a one-tap opt-out from commercial surveillance, and more than 96% of users opted out. Presumably, the other 4% were either confused or on Facebook's payroll. Apple – and its army of cultists – insist that this proves that our world's woes can be traced to cheapskate "consumers" who expected to get something for nothing by using advertising-supported products.

But here's the kicker: right after Apple blocked all its rivals from spying on its customers, it began secretly spying on those customers! Apple has a rival surveillance ad network, and even if you opt out of commercial surveillance on your Iphone, Apple still secretly spies on you and uses the data to target you for ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Even if you're paying for the product, you're still the product – provided the company can get away with treating you as the product. Apple can absolutely get away with treating you as the product, because it lacks the historical constraints that prevented Apple – and other companies – from treating you as the product.

As I described in my McLuhan lecture on enshittification, tech firms can be constrained by four forces:

I. Competition

II. Regulation

III. Self-help

IV. Labor

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

When companies have real competitors – when a sector is composed of dozens or hundreds of roughly evenly matched firms – they have to worry that a maltreated customer might move to a rival. 40 years of antitrust neglect means that corporations were able to buy their way to dominance with predatory mergers and pricing, producing today's inbred, Habsburg capitalism. Apple and Google are a mobile duopoly, Google is a search monopoly, etc. It's not just tech! Every sector looks like this:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

Eliminating competition doesn't just deprive customers of alternatives, it also empowers corporations. Liberated from "wasteful competition," companies in concentrated industries can extract massive profits. Think of how both Apple and Google have "competitively" arrived at the same 30% app tax on app sales and transactions, a rate that's more than 1,000% higher than the transaction fees extracted by the (bloated, price-gouging) credit-card sector:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/07/curatorial-vig/#app-tax

But cartels' power goes beyond the size of their warchest. The real source of a cartel's power is the ease with which a small number of companies can arrive at – and stick to – a common lobbying position. That's where "regulatory capture" comes in: the mobile duopoly has an easier time of capturing its regulators because two companies have an easy time agreeing on how to spend their app-tax billions:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Apple – and Google, and Facebook, and your car company – can violate your privacy because they aren't constrained regulation, just as Uber can violate its drivers' labor rights and Amazon can violate your consumer rights. The tech cartels have captured their regulators and convinced them that the law doesn't apply if it's being broken via an app:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/18/cursed-are-the-sausagemakers/#how-the-parties-get-to-yes

In other words, Apple can spy on you because it's allowed to spy on you. America's last consumer privacy law was passed in 1988, and it bans video-store clerks from leaking your VHS rental history. Congress has taken no action on consumer privacy since the Reagan years:

https://www.eff.org/tags/video-privacy-protection-act

But tech has some special enshittification-resistant characteristics. The most important of these is interoperability: the fact that computers are universal digital machines that can run any program. HP can design a printer that rejects third-party ink and charge $10,000/gallon for its own colored water, but someone else can write a program that lets you jailbreak your printer so that it accepts any ink cartridge:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Tech companies that contemplated enshittifying their products always had to watch over their shoulders for a rival that might offer a disenshittification tool and use that as a wedge between the company and its customers. If you make your website's ads 20% more obnoxious in anticipation of a 2% increase in gross margins, you have to consider the possibility that 40% of your users will google "how do I block ads?" Because the revenue from a user who blocks ads doesn't stay at 100% of the current levels – it drops to zero, forever (no user ever googles "how do I stop blocking ads?").

The majority of web users are running an ad-blocker:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

Web operators made them an offer ("free website in exchange for unlimited surveillance and unfettered intrusions") and they made a counteroffer ("how about 'nah'?"):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

Here's the thing: reverse-engineering an app – or any other IP-encumbered technology – is a legal minefield. Just decompiling an app exposes you to felony prosecution: a five year sentence and a $500k fine for violating Section 1201 of the DMCA. But it's not just the DMCA – modern products are surrounded with high-tech tripwires that allow companies to invoke IP law to prevent competitors from augmenting, recongifuring or adapting their products. When a business says it has "IP," it means that it has arranged its legal affairs to allow it to invoke the power of the state to control its customers, critics and competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

An "app" is just a web-page skinned in enough IP to make it a crime to add an ad-blocker to it. This is what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model" and it's everywhere. When companies don't have to worry about users deploying self-help measures to disenshittify their products, they are freed from the constraint that prevents them indulging the impulse to shift value from their customers to themselves.

Apple owes its existence to interoperability – its ability to clone Microsoft Office's file formats for Pages, Numbers and Keynote, which saved the company in the early 2000s – and ever since, it has devoted its existence to making sure no one ever does to Apple what Apple did to Microsoft:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

Regulatory capture cuts both ways: it's not just about powerful corporations being free to flout the law, it's also about their ability to enlist the law to punish competitors that might constrain their plans for exploiting their workers, customers, suppliers or other stakeholders.

The final historical constraint on tech companies was their own workers. Tech has very low union-density, but that's in part because individual tech workers enjoyed so much bargaining power due to their scarcity. This is why their bosses pampered them with whimsical campuses filled with gourmet cafeterias, fancy gyms and free massages: it allowed tech companies to convince tech workers to work like government mules by flattering them that they were partners on a mission to bring the world to its digital future:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

For tech bosses, this gambit worked well, but failed badly. On the one hand, they were able to get otherwise powerful workers to consent to being "extremely hardcore" by invoking Fobazi Ettarh's spirit of "vocational awe":

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

On the other hand, when you motivate your workers by appealing to their sense of mission, the downside is that they feel a sense of mission. That means that when you demand that a tech worker enshittifies something they missed their mother's funeral to deliver, they will experience a profound sense of moral injury and refuse, and that worker's bargaining power means that they can make it stick.

Or at least, it did. In this era of mass tech layoffs, when Google can fire 12,000 workers after a $80b stock buyback that would have paid their wages for the next 27 years, tech workers are learning that the answer to "I won't do this and you can't make me" is "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out" (AKA "sharpen your blades boys"):

https://techcrunch.com/2022/09/29/elon-musk-texts-discovery-twitter/

With competition, regulation, self-help and labor cleared away, tech firms – and firms that have wrapped their products around the pluripotently malleable core of digital tech, including automotive makers – are no longer constrained from enshittifying their products.

And that's why your car manufacturer has chosen to spy on you and sell your private information to data-brokers and anyone else who wants it. Not because you didn't pay for the product, so you're the product. It's because they can get away with it.

Cars are enshittified. The dozens of chips that auto makers have shoveled into their car design are only incidentally related to delivering a better product. The primary use for those chips is autoenshittification – access to legal strictures ("IP") that allows them to block modifications and repairs that would interfere with the unfettered abuse of their own customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

The fact that it's a felony to reverse-engineer and modify a car's software opens the floodgates to all kinds of shitty scams. Remember when Bay Staters were voting on a ballot measure to impose right-to-repair obligations on automakers in Massachusetts? The only reason they needed to have the law intervene to make right-to-repair viable is that Big Car has figured out that if it encrypts its diagnostic messages, it can felonize third-party diagnosis of a car, because decrypting the messages violates the DMCA:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2013/11/drm-cars-will-drive-consumers-crazy

Big Car figured out that VIN locking – DRM for engine components and subassemblies – can felonize the production and the installation of third-party spare parts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

The fact that you can't legally modify your car means that automakers can go back to their pre-2008 ways, when they transformed themselves into unregulated banks that incidentally manufactured the cars they sold subprime loans for. Subprime auto loans – over $1t worth! – absolutely relies on the fact that borrowers' cars can be remotely controlled by lenders. Miss a payment and your car's stereo turns itself on and blares threatening messages at top volume, which you can't turn off. Break the lease agreement that says you won't drive your car over the county line and it will immobilize itself. Try to change any of this software and you'll commit a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Tesla, naturally, has the most advanced anti-features. Long before BMW tried to rent you your seat-heater and Mercedes tried to sell you a monthly subscription to your accelerator pedal, Teslas were demon-haunted nightmare cars. Miss a Tesla payment and the car will immobilize itself and lock you out until the repo man arrives, then it will blare its horn and back itself out of its parking spot. If you "buy" the right to fully charge your car's battery or use the features it came with, you don't own them – they're repossessed when your car changes hands, meaning you get less money on the used market because your car's next owner has to buy these features all over again:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/edison-not-tesla/#demon-haunted-world

And all this DRM allows your car maker to install spyware that you're not allowed to remove. They really tipped their hand on this when the R2R ballot measure was steaming towards an 80% victory, with wall-to-wall scare ads that revealed that your car collects so much information about you that allowing third parties to access it could lead to your murder (no, really!):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

That's why your car spies on you. Because it can. Because the company that made it lacks constraint, be it market-based, legal, technological or its own workforce's ethics.

One common critique of my enshittification hypothesis is that this is "kind of sensible and normal" because "there’s something off in the consumer mindset that we’ve come to believe that the internet should provide us with amazing products, which bring us joy and happiness and we spend hours of the day on, and should ask nothing back in return":

https://freakonomics.com/podcast/how-to-have-great-conversations/

What this criticism misses is that this isn't the companies bargaining to shift some value from us to them. Enshittification happens when a company can seize all that value, without having to bargain, exploiting law and technology and market power over buyers and sellers to unilaterally alter the way the products and services we rely on work.

A company that doesn't have to fear competitors, regulators, jailbreaking or workers' refusal to enshittify its products doesn't have to bargain, it can take. It's the first lesson they teach you in the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Your car spying on you isn't down to your belief that your carmaker "should provide you with amazing products, which brings your joy and happiness you spend hours of the day on, and should ask nothing back in return." It's not because you didn't pay for the product, so now you're the product. It's because they can get away with it.

The consequences of this spying go much further than mere insurance premium hikes, too. Car telemetry sits at the top of the funnel that the unbelievably sleazy data broker industry uses to collect and sell our data. These are the same companies that sell the fact that you visited an abortion clinic to marketers, bounty hunters, advertisers, or vengeful family members pretending to be one of those:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/07/safegraph-spies-and-lies/#theres-no-i-in-uterus

Decades of pro-monopoly policy led to widespread regulatory capture. Corporate cartels use the monopoly profits they extract from us to pay for regulatory inaction, allowing them to extract more profits.

But when it comes to privacy, that period of unchecked corporate power might be coming to an end. The lack of privacy regulation is at the root of so many problems that a pro-privacy movement has an unstoppable constituency working in its favor.

At EFF, we call this "privacy first." Whether you're worried about grifters targeting vulnerable people with conspiracy theories, or teens being targeted with media that harms their mental health, or Americans being spied on by foreign governments, or cops using commercial surveillance data to round up protesters, or your car selling your data to insurance companies, passing that long-overdue privacy legislation would turn off the taps for the data powering all these harms:

https://www.eff.org/wp/privacy-first-better-way-address-online-harms

Traditional economics fails because it thinks about markets without thinking about power. Monopolies lead to more than market power: they produce regulatory capture, power over workers, and state capture, which felonizes competition through IP law. The story that our problems stem from the fact that we just don't spend enough money, or buy the wrong products, only makes sense if you willfully ignore the power that corporations exert over our lives. It's nice to think that you can shop your way out of a monopoly, because that's a lot easier than voting your way out of a monopoly, but no matter how many times you vote with your wallet, the cartels that control the market will always win:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/12/market-failure/#car-wars

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[cerastes]

I still think it's really cool how Amuro starts as the shittiest pilot alive (because he's a 15-year old) that only gets carried because he's in the biggest, fattest stat stick in-universe at the time (a few retroactive additions made in the future notwithstanding), enough that even its crappy vulcan guns are tearing Zaku IIs apart, and when he starts getting a bit too cocky, Char and Ramba Ral show up in objectively inferior pieces of junk and absolutely deliver his pizza, they just drag his face across every available surface in Planet Earth like he's a Yakuza mook, all because they are simply that much better at piloting, and the thing is, Amuro takes that very seriously.

He goes from shitass kid in an unfortunate situation that doesn't want to get in the robot to the most unwell child soldier in the war, which is really saying something, but most importantly, becomes so good at piloting the Gundam that the Gundam physically cannot handle Amuro's piloting. They need to apply "Magnetic Coating" to its joints so they don't fucking snap away from the main frame because Amuro, one, moves too damn well but also in too extreme a way for the frame to handle it, two, despite being equipped with two sabers, a shield, a beam rifle and vulcan guns, Amuro is a stern believer in introducing most everyone in thagomizer range to his Rated Z for Zeon hands, the single most official pair of hands in the business, tax free. He KEEP going Ip Man on these dudes, he does NOT need to do a Jamestown on these mother fuckers but he INSISTS. Somehow even the Gundam Hammer, which is a giant Hannah Barbera cartoon flail-- Ok, look at this thing, words do not do it justice

Even this god damn Tom and Jerry prop is less savage that whatever Amuro decides to do the moment he's done throwing his shield to get a free kill on someone and it officially becomes bed time forever for the unfortunate sap at the business end of his ten-finger weapons of mass destruction.

The RX-78-2, "Gundam" for its friends and family, even has a top of the line cutting edge Learning Computer that 'learns' alongside the pilot and their habits. This data extracted from it was so absolutely fucked up that it completely revolutionized Mobile Suit combat afterwards, which is a wholesome thing to think about when The Best Combat Data Ever came from a really angry, really stressed 15 year old that doesn't even like piloting. He was 15! He made Haro with his own hands! Amuro literally just wanted to make funny cute spherical robofriends! Amuro was out there trying to make Kirby real, but fate had other plans for him. His cloned brain put in a pilot seat is one of the setting's strongest 'pilots'.

They made fucking Shadow the Hedgehog with his brain, god damn.

By the end, Zeon is rolling out Gelgoogs out of its mass production lines. These things are in the Gundam's ballpark in terms of overall specs (or "power level"). Amuro is bodying them as if they were episode 1 Zaku IIs.

AND THEN HE GETS FUCKING PSYCHIC SPACE POWERS. Not that he needed them, he bodied a couple Space Psychics without any of those powers before awakening to them. But heaven's most violent child was not done evolving, whether he liked it or not.

Char bodied him in a souped up Zaku II at the start, a machine objectively inferior to the Gundam. Amuro more or less one-sidedly beats the shit out of Char when he's in a custom Commander-type Gelgoog that you could consider to be equal spec-wise to the Gundam. Amuro is the embodiment of Finding Out. He is Consequences. You tell him he better make it hurt, better make it count, better kill you in one shot, buddy, he needs half a fucking shot. The complete transformation. One could consider the central 75% of the show as long drawn out training montage turning a kid into the Geese Howard of giant robots.

[3liza]

i saw a contrarian "the web was always shit actually you're just blinded by nostalgia" take on here the other day, presumably by someone under the age of 30, and i really disagree. im sorry "enshittification" is such a cringe word and i know we're all tired of it, but just speakinf for myself it describes a real process that i watched happen in real time.

and it's not that 90s-00s internet was unambiguously "good", because it wasnt, but there was a period around the web2 era where there was a really precarious balance of factors that produced an internet that was so easy and so much fun it was doomed to decay. i think the factors were probably too numerous for me to be aware of all of them, and many of those factors were financial/economic and linked to various dot com bubbles, but a few big ones that affected me directly were "normal, non-nerd people who were actually online were confined to walled gardens (Yahoo, AOL, basic email apps) which kept them off of the larger internet and it was very difficult for them to escape" and "'nerd culture' itself was not yet mainstreamed by Disney and other mass corpo buyins" (it is impossible to describe to anyone who wasnt there, but knowing literally anything about Star Wars was extremely niche until approximately the 2010s) and of course the major one was that while social networks existed in a primordial form (Livejournal, Myspace, et al), they were heavily influenced by factors 1 and 2 which just made them a considerably different experience. so a bunch of shit factors were not yet in place, but a bunch of the good stuff about online had already been established, and search engines were functioning better than they ever would again. it's not revisionist or reactionary or nostalgic to observe and state that, it's just true.

smartphones, surveillance, user cookies, and the gradual destruction of defenses against data gathering despite massive resistance developed unstoppably after this, i think it's pointless to lay the blame on users for any of this. you have to spend so much energy and acquire so much expertise to avoid being shunted into the Facebook meat grinder, my personal frustrations with the average civilian internet user notwithstanding, and the capitalist extraction machine is so powerful, that im not sure personal choice can even be considered a serious factor in any of this