#types of software question answers

[vanishingmoments]

why are people in my math class acting like i'm the teacher's assistant or something when they put us in study groups

[txttletale]

hey what’s up, i think you’re pretty cool but disagree with you on the whole ai can make art thing. to me, without the purpose from an actual person creating the piece, it’s not art but an image; as all human art has purpose. some driving factor in a work, compared to a program which purely creates the prompt without further intention. i was wondering what your insight on this is? either way, hope you have a great day

well, first of all, does art require 'purpose'? there's this view of art which has very much calcified in "anti-AI" rhetoric, that art is some linear process of communication from one individual to another: an Artist puts some Meaning into a unit of Art, which others can then view to Recieve that Meaning. you can hold this view, but i don't! i'm much more of a stuart hall-head on this, i think that there is no such transfusion of Intent and that rather the 'meaning' of a piece is something that exists only in the interplay between text and reader. reading is an active, interpretative process of decoding, not a passive absorptive one. so i dispute, firstly, that 'purpose' is to begin with a necessary or even imporant element of art.

moreover i think this argument rests on a very arbitrarily selective view of what counts as "an actual person creating the piece" -- 'the prompt' is, itself, an obvious artistic contribution, a place where an artist can impart huge amounts of direction, vision, and so on. in fact, i completely reject the claim of both the technology's salesman and its biggest detractors that genAI "makes art" -- to quote kerry mitchell's fractal art manifesto: "Turn a computer on and leave it alone for an hour. When you come back, no art will have been generated." in the past, i've posed questions about generative art pieces to demonstrate this

secondly, of course, the process does not end after image generation from prompt for serious generative artists--the ones who are serious about the artform (rather than tech guys trying to do marketing for the Magical Art Box) frequently iterate and iterate, generating a range of iterations and then picking one to iterate on further, so on and so forth, until the final image they choose to share is one that contains within it the traces of a thousand discrete choices on behalf of the artist (two pretty good explanations of this from people who actually do this stuff can be found here and here)

third and finally, that very choice to share the image is itself an artistic decision! we (and by we, i mean, anyone who cares about what art is) have been talking about this since fountain -- display is a form of artistic intent, taking something and putting it forward and saying 'this is art' is in and of itself an artistic decision being made even if the thing itself is unaltered: see, for example, the entire discipline of 'found art'. once someone challenged me, yknow, "if you did a google search, would that be art?" and my answer to that is, if you screenshot that google search and share it as art, then yes, resoundingly yes! curation and presentation recontextualizes objects, turning them into rich texts through the simple process of reframing them. so even if you granted that genAI output is inherently random computer noise (i don't, of course) -- i still think that the act of presenting it as art makes it so.

since i assume you're not familiar with anything interesting in the medium, because the most popular stuff made with genAI is pure "lo-fi girl in ghibli style" type slop, let me share some genAI pieces (or genAI-influenced pieces) that i think are powerful and interesting:

the meat gala, rob sheridan (warning: body horror!)

secret horses (does anyone know the original source on this?)

infinite art machine, reachartwork

ethinically ambigaus, james tamagotchi

mcdonalds simpsons porn room, wayneradiotv

software greatman, everything everything (the music is completely made by the band, but genAI was partially responsible for the lyrics -- including the title and the several interesting pseudo-kennings)

i want a love like this music video, everything everything

cocaine is the motor of the modern world, bots of new york

poison the walker, roborosewatermasters (here's my analysis posts on it too)

not all of these were necessarily intended as art: but i think they are rich and fascinating texts when read that way -- they have certainly impacted me as much as any art has.

anyways, whether you agree or not, i hope this gives you some stuff to think about, thanks for sharing your thoughts :)

[ao3commentoftheday]

While looking for something else, I found an old ask I answered about "ideal chapter length" in terms of word count.

I've been asked this probably a dozen or more times, and each time I need to take a moment and adjust my thinking to take the asker's point of view into account. Because the thing is? The only time I ever try to factor the word count into how I write a story is when I'm aiming for a true drabble.

For whatever reason, this difference in thinking stuck with me today and I actually considered why that might be. And I think it's because I'm in my 40s and the first 25-30 years of my life, any stories I was reading were printed on paper and bound into physical books.

When I imagine a novel, I still think of a mass market paperback on my bookshelf. An average one would be maybe an inch thick, probably in the neighbourhood of 300 pages. A long one would be maybe as much as two inches thick and 500 or more pages long. A short one was always nice to have because it filled in the gaps in the shelf because 200 page books were so much narrower. Or so it seemed.

When I started posting my fic online, I still thought in terms of pages. I'd type them out in whatever word processing software I was using at the time, and I'd usually get a chapter's worth of ideas into 3 or 4 pages. Turns out that's about 1000 words, which makes sense with the number of 1000 word essays I wrote in high school. I'd been trained to encapsulate an idea into approximately that length.

And that's what it comes down to. The thing that always made that question seem weird to me. A chapter isn't about how many words there are in it, just like a cake isn't about how many cups of flour exist in each slice. A chapter is a an idea that helps make up a bigger idea called a story, and it needs to be however many words that idea needs to be to get it out.

[01zfan]

venusian

producer!anton x alien!reader | 10k words

another installment of my rock the house seriez! this was fun to write even though it took me forever.

contains: face sitting, alot of implied sex, intergalactic booty call, anton catching feelings

rock the house masterlist

Anton gripped the metal of his fire escape, looking down at street below him.

He was a struggling artist, not the type that leaped over banisters down to oncoming traffic but the one that watched. He watched people like they were characters in movies, crafting stories for each single one. The student rushing to beat the light had an assignment waiting for them when they got home. The mother that had to pull her kids behind her on a plastic scooter worked all day, the man was looking at his phone was texting his mistress.

Honestly, it was too cold for Anton to be outside. He was also too busy to be doing this. He had a list of things to do before his band released their newest project. But like a thousand times before, the closer Venusian got to the release date of music Anton started getting sentimental and spending his time doing things he shouldn’t be doing. Procrastination is what Wonbin called it, Sohee referred to it as cold feet. In the deep corner of Internet somewhere they would say this was a product of Anton being a hack, and each project Venusian released, the world was closer to finding it out. 

Now, Anton couldn’t dispute this. He was talented, no one could take that away from him. From a young age he was able to play instruments at an advanced level and read classical music like it was a second language. Reading notes on a musical staff came to him faster than reading actual words in a book. He confused his teachers with his disdain for math when he was so easily able to divide a beat down to the hemidemisemiquaver. He was born with perfect pitch and a metronome built into his feet, and was able to memorize anything music related at the drop of a hat. 

Anton knew it would be to everyone’s dismay if they found out how often he lost faith in himself. Why would someone who was held in such high regard lose his poise so often? Why would someone so talented refuse to claim the section leader position when it so clearly belonged to him? Anton—and apparently the trolls on the Internet—knew the answers to these questions long before everyone else. He looked over the railing looking for inspiration because like he knew he was a musical prodigy, he also knows he doesn’t have a creative bone in his body.

He knew no one would understand. Creativity wasn’t sight reading music perfectly or being able to tune the other people in your section when they were off key. Creativity to Anton was being able to pull something from the depth of your mind. He would’ve settled for ideas coming to him slowly, but they didn’t come to him at all. Anton needed months to compose sheet music, and atleast a week notice if he had to improvise for the class. Everything he did was too refined, devoid of emotion. He blamed it on the classical cello lessons his mother put him in the moment he expressed an interest in music. He believed his young impressionable brain never had the ability to entertain the idea of music before the technical aspect of was shoved down his throat. He never got the luxury of being that kid that banged on pots and pans with abandon because he liked the way it sounded—he was the kid that had a private lessons teacher looming over him with a ruler in case he got anything wrong.

Anton lacked the complex understanding of the ebbs and flows of the music and where modern musicians fit into the crests. He was able to hide his failings as a musician until he made it to university, where each of his teachers seemed to pick up on it like a sixth sense. 

He believed he was cursed when his senior project called for him to write and produce a whole mini album. The technical aspect of it all didn’t frighten him, he knew the ins and outs of producing software. What scared Anton shitless was that he had nothing to produce. He could hear a note and know exactly where it landed but he could never find out why it was that note. What drove someone to sing in minor key instead of major key, what idea popped into someones mind to make something? 

Anton needed creativity if he wanted to graduate. At the very least enough to get him through five songs that were three to five minutes in length. He stayed after hours sitting in a practice room in silence looking for creativity, then he spent time drafting an extremely long and pitiful email to his faculty advisor. 

Right before Anton could press send and reveal his biggest secret, he met his first bandmate. 

(Technically, Anton heard Sohee before he met him. As he edited the final line of his email he heard the distinct voice of someone in the practice room beside his. The soundproof walls couldn’t block the voice next door. Anton perked up, straightening his slouched back as he listened, really listened to the voice next to him. Even when the voice would chip away after losing air or crack when his throat would become strained Anton knew the voice was special. The organic sound was refreshing, it drew Anton in so much that his pitiful email was long forgotten. 

He left the practice room and peaked through the window. He looked at the back of Sohee’s head as he continued to sing, his hand gripping tightly on the music stand in front of him. When Sohee tipped his head back and another beautiful falsetto note bled through the door, Anton walked right in. He was able to connect a face to the voice, someone he had seen before. The nursing major in the music theory class Anton was a teacher’s aide for. Anton remembers Sohee’s reason for joining the class was to fulfill a requirement.)

From there the rest was history. Anton spoke with his foot in his mouth, the sudden idea of having someone sing on his final project coming out in a huff. Sohee looked from side to side before letting a confused huh? ring through the practice room. Anton only repeated himself in the same rushed manner, followed by him mentioning his final project.

Sohee kept the same confused tone and his hand still gripped his music stand from the exertion of hitting high notes as Anton explained his final project. Sohee didn’t really listen until Anton started flexing his knowledge in music, talking about being flatand breath control, things Sohee knew he had trouble with. 

Then, he started listening. He even worked his schedule around ever so slightly to fit their practice and recording sessions into the day. A week later, when the only thing Anton had to show for was song covers, Wonbin came around. He was in the same situation as Anton, up Shit Creek with no paddle and a final project that needed to be finished if he wanted to graduate. 

Everything was luck. Anton was lucky that he was able to turn in a completed mini album for his final project. He was lucky that his teacher practically forced him to upload the album to a streaming platform due to how refined it was for a senior project. Anton was extremely lucky that the blossoming indie community attached themselves to his work. He was lucky that he found his album earn a shining review from Pitchfork, and countless streams on his songs every night. 

Something that was a stroke of luck fueled by energy drinks and the overwhelming feeling of getting a failing grade on a final project made Anton, Sohee, and Wonbin famous. By the time school ended they were on the list of albums to listen to and in the middle of the sweltering heat of the summer the news broke. Senior Project by Unnamed was ranked as the Top 50 Indie Albums of the Decade. 

After that everyone found out about them pretty quickly. Wonbin couldn’t go on MySpace without it crashing. Sohee’s parents called him crying that their son was singing on the radio. Anton’s heart rate hadn’t been a normal BPM since early April.

The pressure to release something and have it be as good as the accident weighed heavy on him. The sole producer of his trio—and the de facto leader—couldn’t make a beat to save his life. The mere thought of sitting down and crafting something left him even more stumped than he was before. 

But before Anton could confess to Sohee and Wonbin that he couldn’t deliver the same way he did on Senior Project, he found out they were all in. Sohee dropped out of medical school and Wonbin quit his day job. Wonbin spent his earnings on a new guitar and Sohee spent his on vocal lessons. Anton was considering spending his money on a one-way plane ticket to Hawaii and never looking back. They couldn’t make you produce an album if they didn’t know where you were. He could’ve been sipping Mai Tai’s looking at the Oahu sunset but instead he sat out on the curb of Sohee’s apartment complex with his head in his hands as Wonbin and Sohee tried to understand what was wrong. 

Anton for the first time in his life voiced that although he was a prodigy, he had nothing to show for it. The confession came out like vomit, splattering on the concrete and warming underneath the sun. Wonbin looked up to the clouds while Sohee twisted his head away in defeat. Anton felt actual bile raise in his throat as grasshoppers rubbed their legs together in the silence.

Wonbin put a hand to his face to block the sun. Anton heard the muffled shock of Sohee saying he dropped out of med school for this. Then, as if lack of creativity could be cured in a weekend, Wonbin gave his recommendation.

“Let’s buy a van and go sleep in the forest. Completely disconnect with the world and reconnect with nature.” 

Wonbin said it so happily, backed with the reasoning that some rock band neither Sohee or Anton had heard of has done it before. Apparently the band went on a societal cleanse and came back to create  one of the best albums ever made.

(Years later, Anton listened to the album and hated Every. Single. Song.)

 In any other instance Anton would’ve called Wonbin crazy, but the lack of an album and the increasing pressure from everyone wanting a new body of work pushed Anton into reluctantly saying yes. So within the week Anton blew some of his earnings on a van, the three packed their bags and went to camp in the dense forest an hour away from their hometown. Wonbin’s words played again and again in Anton’s mind as he stayed in the passenger seat. He looked for creativity in the tall trees. Anton looked for it all and stayed in the front seat in an effort to see it first. 

When the sun no longer gave him light he switched to the flashlight in the glove compartment, keeping it close to his page full of marked out lyrics and mindless ramblings. He couldn’t think of anything else without lingering on each failed attempt. One of the last things that wasn’t crossed out was the tiny print at the bottom of the page. You’re not going to make it stared at him, it caused his flashlight to go out and it made a headache form right in the center of Anton’s head.

He came to the shocking discovery then and there that he was a one hit wonder, that he was lucky to have famous song on that found its way from an obscure streaming site to the biggest social media platform. His unnamed bands overnight success would dwindle within the week, and they would go back to living their regular pedestrian lives.

Anton finally gave up when he made it to the bottom of his page. He let the flashlight take a break in the cupholder between the two front seats and closed his notebook. He opened the glove compartment and slammed it shut a little too hard, not caring a bit when Wonbin groaned from the back of the van. Anton looked back to see Wonbin and Sohee dangerously close to cuddling as they both shared a single blanket on top of the small inflatable mattress. 

Anton turned away and rolled the window down by the plastic crank and stuck his head out as if inspiration would be carried into the van by the gentle wind. He balanced his head on his arm that hung out the window and sighed. He thought about the lyrics Wonbin wrote, how his bandmate had no instrumental to put it over. The sinking feeling Anton got at the thought of Sohee and Wonbin waking up tomorrow even more worried about the future of the band suffocated him. 

He opened the van door and shut it so hard the van rocked. 

Anton tried to find inspiration in the sound of twigs snapping underneath his foot, the absence of sound as the trees blew in the wind. He walked to the side of the van and leaned against it, hoping that something would whisper to him in the dead quiet of the night. 

When nothing came and only the moon shined down on him, Anton let out another sigh. He leaned his head back until he felt the large window of the van press his hair flat. He looked directly up to the moon, the only thing that seemed to be awake like him. The stars in the sky were shining bright, or maybe they were normal—Anton couldn’t remember the last time he looked to the night sky. He closed his eyes and fisted his hands so tight he could feel his nails dig into his palm. He pressed his head against the glass even harder, trying to remember the last time in his life he was so desperate for results. He drew in a breath, parted his lips, and screwed his eyes shut.

“Please give me something.” Anton whispered into the night.

When he opened his eyes he started laughing at himself for how ridiculous he sounded. Wishing on planets and stars for inspiration like he was a child. Talking to God like he wasn’t a man of science. He considered waking up Wonbin and Sohee to tell them that this wouldn’t work out. Dissolving the band before it even has a man, carrying on with their lives like they didn’t have the most downloaded EP on iTunes.

Anton looked down at his hands, spreading out his fingers so far he felt the stretch. These hands could play Flight of the Bumblebee with ease and could write a paper on music theory overnight, how could they not produce a song? Anton looked at the callouses on his fingers in the moonlight, twisting and turning the rings on his fingers to feel something. Everything about him was hard to the touch, but he felt so incredibly soft. Like he was about to cry, despite not being blessed with the talent of music. 

Anton wiggled his fingers again and felt the urge to curse at them. His eyes drifted to the shadow that was cast underneath him onto the ground.

He was still staring at his fingers when the white light of the moon shifted to a muted green. The change was so sudden Anton blinked first, making sure that his eyes weren’t failing him. When he realized the color being casted on him became hidden by the clouds, he looked up to the sky again. He saw something in the sky, a white cloud trailing behind it. Anton followed its path in the sky, walking around the edge of the van as it came closer and closer to making an impact on the Earth.

Anton’s first reaction was to drop his jaw. Then to pound on the side of the van, as if waking up the only two people on the planet more clueless than him would help. He mindlessly followed, stepping on leaves and twigs and tripping over things as he saw the thing come even closer. Right in front of Anton it crashed into the trees, then straight into the ground. Everything moved around him, he went backwards to hide behind the protection of the van. Underbrush was uprooted from the speed of the wind caused by the impact. 

Anton looked bak up to the sky. White moonlight replaced the green. He looked around. The sound of something falling was replaced with the normal sounds of the night. He looked down. The Earth didn’t split down the middle.

“What just happened?” Anton said to himself quietly. 

He peaked past the van, looking right where the crater would be. Past the lining of trees, less than a two minute walk away. Anton should get back in his car and drive away. But the fact that something unbelievable needs to happen to him made him stay in the same spot.

Anton debated for a long time on if he should take a step closer. More leaves and twigs snapped underneath his foot as he crossed by the van entirely. His blood went cold and everything in him told him to turn around. He should put the key in the ignition of his car and drive away. But he took another step. Then another. Anton creeped past the tree line walking like a prey animal. He looked back to the stationary white van behind him. There was still a chance to go back, but the something unbelievable was calling to him. Anton took the last step to make it to the edge of the crater before looking in.

His hair stood on end when he looked down into the impact on the earth. The circumference of the crater was the length of two vans put together, but it was deep. So deep that the bottom was almost hidden by the night. Anton had to bend down close to look deeper. 

When Anton saw something move in the crater, he was gone. He no longer was looking for something unbelievable to happen to him, inspiration be damned. He cleared out of the forest to make it to the van, opening up the back with an incredible amount of speed. The momentum caused the car to shake, and Anton’s hands were on the shoulders of his bandmates in seconds.

“A girl fell from the sky.” Anton said it quickly, shaking Wonbin’s shoulder harshly.

Wonbin tilted his head to the side as Anton continued to relay what he saw. He blinked his eyes once, twice, then a third time as he tried to comprehend what was being said to him.

“Is that the name of the album?” Wonbin said, groggy voiced as he rubbed one of his eyes.

Anton shook his head angrily before trying to catch his breath. 

“Green Comet…” Anton huffed, suddenly realizing his vision was starting to spot. The adrenaline and the confirmed sighting of an extra-terrestrial being made him feel dizzy. “Fell from the sky. She’s in a crater.” He huffed.

When Wonbin moved from the pallet of clothes and blankets, Sohee did the same. His eyes fluttered open but stayed partially closed. His hair was bumped on one side as he also tried making sense of what Anton was saying.

“Are those song titles?” Sohee asked.

His voice was high-pitched and whiny, Anton knew he was angry from the lack of sleep and being woken up in the middle of the night. There were more important things happening. They needed to call the cops, they needed to call the press.

Anton continued shaking his friends awake, but the lack of mentioning a song title, album name, or anything music related made them go back to sleep. Anton watched in dismay as the two laid their heads back down, ignoring and turning away from his hands that were trying to will them awake. The only thing they did was move their shoulders out of his reach, one of them grumbling wake us up when you have a song finished.

Just as Anton was about to climb into the back of the van to shake his bandmates awake, he heard leaves and twigs snap. His full body froze, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and his throat was suddenly dry. The spring night suddenly felt cold as he felt a presence behind him.

When Anton first heard a voice, he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to acknowledge whoever was speaking to him. He wanted to heave his body into the back of the van and shut the doors behind him. He wanted to speed off back to civilization, at the very least he wanted to scream and wake his bandmates up. But Anton couldn’t do anything, he didn’t move an inch when he felt the presence take another step.

“Where am I?” You repeated

Anton quickly told you that you were in the quiet midwest of America. He said you were on planet Earth, and some other things he forgot now. He was rambling at the mouth, he’s sure he started telling secrets of his own at some point. He’s in a band. He’s a hack. He has no creativity. He’s scared that you’re getting closer. He thinks you’re going to abduct him and probe him and he’s going to be your human prisoner for the rest of his life.

At some point between your first step and your last step, Anton closed his eyes. He prepared for death, his life flashed before his eyes, everything. But then you grabbed his hands. He felt warm all over, his rambling stopped and his fear was replaced with something else. The turbulence in his mind cleared and everything stopped making sound around him. The wind stopped blowing, Wonbin stopped snoring, everything felt peaceful. 

Then, when Anton opened his eyes you were gone. All traces of you vanished into the night. Reality came back slowly. Anton clasped his hands hard, then looked down at them again. He was no different. He wasn’t being beamed up into the sky, he wasn’t hurt. He was suddenly alone again outside, the trees and the sounds came back to him like they never left. He could also clearly hear the beginning chord to a song and a name for his band. 

Anton heard everything, the longer he stared at his hands the more inspiration struck. He heard it all, he could see it all so clearly. The album name, song titles, album covers, music videos. Anton was up for the rest of the night, filling out pages and pages in his notebook until his hand could no longer hold the pen straight.

Sometimes Anton could still feel the pain in his hand from writing all night. He flexed his hand that gripped the railing, closing his palm in on itself before leaning closer to the banister. He looked behind him to his apartment. The studio door was wide open, and had to audibly sigh to try and relieve some of that burden.

The word had dropped nearly three months ago that a new album was coming. A rumor that wasn’t really a rumor, and once people caught wind of it there was no use in denying it. Their recording company was already reaching out about any possible singles. Wonbin started already reinventing himself. Sohee was sending Anton lyrics everyday in hopes of getting the music faster. 

The only way he was able to get a break from everything was to say he needed time to collect and recenter himself. What this meant for his colleagues was to go on a weeklong coke fueled bender. What that meant for Anton was to look at foot traffic in the street below him hoping to see his alien girlfriend-who-is-not-his-girlfriend.

He learned that you would always come when he least expected you to. Washing up on the beach during his vacation to Vietnam. Offering him a wine glass at an industry party. Appearing as room service during his stay at a hotel abroad. He wasn’t sure what summoned you. He was always so used to the feeling of not being inspired that he never knew when he was about to reach a breaking point. 

But you always did.

The first time you appeared and he found you in the forest, when he thought he was going to die but he lived and Venusian and the chords for the first EP was in his head.

The second time you appeared was outside of a diner. Anton spent the whole day disconnected from the world, enjoying an AYCE sushi special instead of finishing the vocal mixing on the first single when you appeared across the street. Locked in the phone booth right in Anton’s line of sight the moment he lifted his head from his salmon roll. 

He thought he was seeing things at first. By this point in time he had convinced himself that seeing you in the forest was the product of starvation, anxiety, and sleep deprivation. In the morning when he finally got Sohee and Wonbin to come and see where you landed, they said it was only the beginnings of a construction site. So Anton told himself you were just a very real figment of his imagination. But across the street you were very real and you were beckoning for him to come to you.

In the phone booth, Anton finally had a conversation with you. Cramped in after you pulled him inside you two had a formal interaction. To offset how normal the greeting was you told him you were not from this planet. Anton thought he was imagining things again. He shook his head and smiled waiting for the punchline of your joke, and an actual explanation as to why you fell from the sky and asked where you were so honestly. 

Anton doesn’t remember speaking very much in the phone booth. His first reaction was to shiver from the feeling of the hairs raising on the back of his neck. His second was to deny you not being from this planet. You talked like a human, you smelled like a human, you looked like a human. Then you said something ridiculous like being human is relative, which ended up being a track name on Venusian’s first full length album She Fell From the Sky.

(Anton could’ve named the album My Girlfriend Fell From the Sky Because She is an Alien and no one would’ve done anything about it. No one second guesses the names or titles indie bands use for their titles, but giving you the title of girlfriend seemed a little presumptuous.)

He found out on your third visit when you knocked on his door in a private studio that you kissed better than any human being ever has. You two kissed better than people could, all of his past experiences and stories he heard paled in comparison. The way you leaned in close, hovering over him while he basically shook in his office chair. You looked so beautiful standing above him, you smiled to ease him into you. You pressed your lips to his so softly and his hands went to your waist, holding onto you. You weren’t able to disappear into thin air. That night you kissed Anton goodbye, he was able to see you leave, and he was able to get you to promise you’d come back. 

When you closed the studio door behind you, Anton did what any artist would do. He turned the situation he found himself in to profit. All the confusion and love and lust from an alien he’s met a handful of times, who appears and disappears on her own accord. An alien who always knows where he is and when he needs her. Always smells so good, and looks at him so intensely it literally sparks creativity. Someone who his bandmates thinks is fake. He put all of that—and much more—into the second album. My Girlfriend is an Alien. A little on the nose, but it was green lit nonetheless. The album featured tracks such as i hope you’re real, please meet my friends, imaginary friend, and star/meteor. 

On the fourth visit Anton found out you were a fan. He knew because you liked the song come to my apartment next time, and no one liked that song. A dud on the album but something you felt like was just for you. You called him on the phone in his hotel across the world, just when he was about to fall asleep. You talked to him but didn't tell him where you were, it sounded like you were driving or laying in bed and kicking your feet and writing in your journal. Before you could hang up and disappear for an undisclosed amount of time he had questions ready. In his notebook next to lyrics he looks at the chicken scratch in the margins, the hotel phone caught between his shoulder and ear as he made sure to speak clearly into the receiver.

“Will you come when I ask you to?” 

“No.” 

“Will you come when I need you to?”

“Yes.”

“How will I know when you will be here?”

“You don’t.”

“What’s your favorite song by Venusian?”

That was the question that stumped you. You were silent for a moment, the crackling sound of a connection. Anton looked at the lamp on the bedside table, staring at it until it left an imprint in his vision. He thought the line had disconnected before you spoke.

“The ones you write about me, of course.”

All of them were about you, he couldn't tell you that before you told him that you loved him and had to go. Without a doubt in Anton’s mind, every song was about you. Even when Wonbin wrote the lyrics, they were always about an elusive figure that was appearing in and out of someone’s life. When Sohee wrote lyrics, they were about wanting something. On the rare occasion the song wasn’t about you, the bands name itself was a homage to you. He never asked if you were from Venus because he thought it'd be rude, but he wished on that planet before you came down in a crater his bandmates thought was a construction site.

He couldn’t escape you, but no one even knew you existed. Sometimes Anton didn’t even know you existed. He searched harder in the street. He saw a school teacher finally heading home. Someone with a coffee cup, spilling it on themselves because they were walking too fast. Taxi driver smoking on the corner, letting possible clients pass him to hop in the cars of his competition. A woman walking down the sidewalk, past the smoker and the school teacher and the spill on the person shirt. Her pace got slower and slower until she came to a stop right in front of his building.

Anton looked further down, leaning even closer to the banister. The metal railing pressed into his stomach, going right through his thin shirt as he looked down. Foot traffic continued around her. From the high floor of Anton's apartment his hair started blowing, whipping forward and closing his eyes. The woman in front of Anton's apartment building was unmoving, so was he. If Sohee was here he would've believed it to be the paparazzi, Wonbin would've thought it was a coincidence. But Anton knew before you looked up. The hat and sunglasses you had on obstructed the view of your face, but Anton knew. All you had to do was point towards the front door before Anton was turning on his heel, running through his apartment until he made it to the front door.

Anton cleared his apartment a little too fast to ring you up. He kept his eyes glued to the front camera of the building as you walked up the steps. When the buzzer sounded off you smiled, pulling at the large door before you walked out of frame of the camera. 

Anton imagined you coming up the stairs. He swore he could hear you from floors away, your heeled shoes coming through his apartment building as you made your way to him. He could hear the elevator music from his living room, and he could see you looking at the red number climb until you were at his floor. He wasn’t sure how you knew, but you always knew. He stopped asking questions long ago. He was just so happy to see you, a relieved smile coming across his face as he opened his door to you standing there.

“Did you miss me?” You asked.

Anton nodded, pulling you by your arm to get you to come inside. He learned to not waste time when you were here. No more shy greetings or acting amazed when you’d show up. He learned to think about your surprise appearance when he was alone. He helped you take off your hat and shades to put it on the table at the entryway. He guided your jacket off of your arms as you looked up to the high ceilings.

“This place is so big just for one person.” You said quietly.

Anton didn’t know how you lived. He didn’t know where you lived either. Venus was the presumed place, but it could've been the moon. Both were visible when he made his wish that night. He didn’t know if millionaire musicians lived in gigantic lofts by themselves where you came from. He could’ve had roommates. Sohee and Wonbin always wanted to stay with him during the album creation process, to really get involved in the body of work. Venusian tours made Anton encounter his fair share of groupies that wanted him. He could’ve had one of them as a live in girlfriend that uses his money to buy drugs and his fame as an aphrodisiac. But Anton preferred to live alone, even if he had a guest room littered with things he’d think you like in between your visits.

Anton continued guiding your jacket off, then the fleece button up you had on underneath. You always complained about the cold. Anton imagined wherever you came from was always in an eternal spring compared to the frigid weather here. You liked the weather in Puerto Vallarta the most. You came to Anton on a pool floatie saying you could get used to the weather here. You hated it the most in Germany. You emerged from a snow bank when Anton was leaving the convenience store late at night. You were shaking like a leaf then, and Anton gave you his jacket and had to spend the whole night warming you up.

(At first the sentiment was innocent. He offered you all the blankets his room had to offer, and then you said you needed body heat. His huffs of hot air was sticking to your skin, and you were clinging to him for dear life. He repeated how badly he wanted to warm you up as he covered his body with yours, and hushed you over and over again when you were running out of breath. You were both sweating by the time the Sun came up, and then you said you were finally warm enough to go home.)

He knows you probably hate the weather now. But you bite your tongue to stop you from saying how cold it is even when you’re shivering. You just walk fully into Anton’s living room, sitting in the middle of the couch before you tap the spot next to you.

Anton is uninspired. He’s not creative. That’s why you’re here. Offering your magic touch again, his next Grammy nomination and wave of accolades is waiting for him on his large couch.

He follows in your footsteps, discarding his robe on the chair next to the couch. In his plain black tee and sweats Anton gets on the couch, climbing on until he rests his head in your lap. Even with all this space he’s too big. His foot dangles over the edge of the couch, and you let out a soft grunt when he lays his head on you. He doesn’t care because this is enough. When your fingers massage his scalp he closes his eyes, trying to will the stress away.

Anton felt you stir underneath him, and he already felt the stress coming back. He instinctually reached a hand to your arm, trying to keep you there. When he realized you were only repositioning yourself his hand left your wrist, going to his chest. He rubbed the fabric of his shirt and hummed the beginning of a song.

He looked forward as your hands carded through his hair, flattening out the bits that were sticking up.

“Where were you this time?” Anton asked.

“Your kind haven't discovered it yet. But I came back pretty fast this time, didn't I?” You asked.

Anton nods his head against your fingers because you did come back faster this time. When Venusian was just beginning you used to appear every week, when the band was at its peak the longest Anton was left waiting for you was two years. Before you showed up at his apartment today you called him over the phone a month and a half ago. Your voice crackled through the speakers and you sounded like you were somewhere far away. Anton almost asked you if there was reception on Venus, but instead he decided to put it in a song. Not knowing the answer made him look for it himself, and that’s how he came up with the idea of the first single for Venusian’s upcoming album. 

Anton remembers the last conversation you guys had over the phone. He asked you if you were real for the hundredth time and you laughed before saying yes. He asked if you’re real why can’t he reach out and touch you and you said he would just have to save it for next time. So Anton opens his eyes and reaches up with one hand, until he can feel your cheek underneath his fingers. His other hand wraps around your hand in his hair, and he keeps eye contact with you while you look down at him. It’s really not fair that you get to come and go as you please. You should stay here with him, be his live-in alien girlfriend who helps him write music. You wouldn’t even have to do housework, he’d hire someone to do that. He can get whatever people eat on Venus shipped right to his doorstep just for you.

Anton holds you tighter, there’s silence and you moving your legs underneath his head again. From this spot on your lap all Anton can focus on is you. You two are floating in space together, holding eachother’s hands. Anton thinks about a spaceship and then Star Trek, and then the parts of you that he couldn’t touch over the phone. He was telling you about it long after the phone call suddenly disconnected until he was shaking and his body was covered in sweat. 

“How’s the music thing going?” You asked.

The question was asked just to fill the silence, because you wouldn’t be here if Anton wasn’t struggling with the music thing. If Anton could finish the mixing on this song you’d still be floating around space somewhere and Venusian’s latest album would’ve already hit streaming platforms. 

Anton sits up from your lap and your hands combing through his hair. Even though he lets go of your hands he still feels them close, and when he turns around to face you on the couch you have them pressed in the space between your two bodies. You look like you want to reach out and touch him. Anton feels your pull, he sees your eyes focus on him after running down his body. He put his hands on your shoulders then your face, forcing you to look at him and only him. 

“It’s going well.” He couldn’t believe that your face was already becoming hot to the touch. Anton watched you become so bothered you didn’t correct his lie, only nodding against his hand. “Did you hear the new single?” He asked.

Anton watched your hands finally leave the edge of the couch to go to his thighs. Nothing about you was alien. He knew you well, he knew your hands would go underneath his shirt to touch his soft stomach. Anton knew you’d look down first then to him as you let your head rest in the palm of his hand. 

“It was pretty. Felt like you were singing to me.” 

“Well,” Anton trained himself to never answer the question directly when he’d be asked who his muse was. Wonbin always said he sang about love he never found and Sohee said he was singing about an idea. “who else would I be singing to?” Anton 

“Thought maybe you went out and got yourself a girlfriend.” You say.

Anton smiled to hearing that. Like he wasn’t waiting everyday for you to materialize. He could never waste his time dating when he spent all of it waiting for you and making music. He only shook his head, bringing you closer by the hold on your face. 

“I was thinking about you the whole time.”

“Oh yeah?” Your hand left his hair after pulling it one last time. Anton looks up at you sideways as you tilt your head. “I was thinking about you too."

He knows he's being dramatic, because just the thought of you somewhere thinking of your human boyfriend makes him smile. He already thinks of a bonus track for the album think about me will be the title, and he will get Wonbin to write something beautiful about a couple in love. He'll pair it with a beat that's light and sounds like someone's dreams, then end it with the sound of a phone disconnecting. He might even pair it with a music video.

"What were you thinking about when you were thinking about me?" You ask.

Anton has done this dance with you plenty of times. He knows that you’re here to breathe creativity into him, like the fate of his world depends on it. Fuck or die, fuck or never make another song again—it’s the same thing in Anton’s mind. But he still falls victim to your ability to raise the tension, like it was the first time all over again. Back then he was all nerves, thinking about music and how you were his sign from the universe that everything would be alright. He spent more time on his knees than he ever did in his life, he was drained but you kept wanting more. Sometimes Anton can remember the exhaustion vividly, and he also remembers when he woke up the next morning he knew exactly what he was going to do for that collaboration with his favorite artist.

You’re here now, countless save-his-career fucks later and still looking at him like you haven’t gotten enough. He sits up from your lap and turns to face you.

“I was thinking about the last time I saw you,” Anton’s hands start moving to the side of your face then down to your waist. You’re already moving to straddle him. “and you did that think I really like.” He continues.

Anton watches you look down at him and he wonders what’s going on in your head. He remembers last time you were here and you said sincerely he should get a girlfriend. He asked if you had a boyfriend on Venus but recanted his question immediately, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle the answer. He has been making happy music as of late and didn’t want to change that.

Now you looked at him like he was delicate, your little human boy toy you entertained between periods of floating around space.

“I was thinking I just need you so I can get inspiration for this song.” He didn’t mind if he was nothing but an intergalactic booty call. Sometimes it felt like you did things for his benefit, like showing up at to him when he needed you the most. Your hands went to his face and he felt his heart stop. He swears he doesn’t mind.

“How many times do I have to tell you Anton, it’s all you?” You started letting your hips rest heavy on his lap, and he could feel how warm you were all around him. You can say all you want that your fingertips don’t have magical powers, but he has already found a chord for the lyrics Sohee sent him the other day. “You’re talented, just stressed and—” He presses your hips deeper into his, until you feel him twitching in his pants. “You’re already hard?”

Anton is helpless against you. You’re extra-terrestrial, that has already been established, but there’s something more. The planet Venus must have blessed you with powers. Anton's hand goes to the back of your neck and brings you closer.

“I just need a little bit more.” Anton murmurs against your lips.

Before you can speak Anton brings his other hand to reach into your pants, pushing his hand in your panties. Instantly you arched from the touch, when he applied pressure you swiveled your hips. He’s been here before, he’s been here a million times. An intergalactic booty call on his Italian leather sofa. You're already doing the thing he likes, where you whimper and push your tongue into his mouth. The simple action makes him already falter, becoming your puppet so easily.

Anton doesn’t know what you have in store for him. After discovering he was already hard the look in your eye changed, and your idea of comforting his feelings of inadequacy shifted to something different. 

He’s been holed up in this apartment for more than a week, and he hadn’t made a new friend in God knows how long. Anton forgot how to interact with people beyond his bandmates, and he felt ill-equipped to keep the conversation going with an alien. You’re here, getting off of his lap until his hands follow after you and you’re standing in front of him. When the coffee table is too close to you Anton wastes no time pushing it away with his foot, giving you enough space in front of him. You don’t say anything about it, instead bringing your hands to the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head.

Your shirt is balled in your hands then it’s obstructing Anton’s vision. He pulls it into his lap too quick to see you messing with the waistband of your jeans, shimmying out of it before pushing it down your legs. You came all the way from Venus in a matching set, all for him. He’s lied by saying he just needs a little more. Whatever happens each time you leave has only made him worse, and only makes him crave more. Each time you leave he’s left with a sense of this being the last time. 

When you come back to him in your bra and panties he’s too rash. Instead of guiding you to his lap Anton  gets on his back. He doesn’t tell you what he needs when you try to adjust to the sudden change. When you still try to go to his lap Anton’s hand on your wrist stops you. You look at Anton and it takes both of you too many dragging seconds to see what Anton is silent hinting at. He’s missed your touch, your voice, and your taste. When you realize it your eyebrows are raised nearly to your hairline, and he’s still guiding your body towards his face. 

From that point everything happened pretty fast. You asked Anton a million times if he was sure and said yes without fail. When you finally situated yourself with your knees on either side of his head, he knew this was what he needed. The skewed perspective of you down here, his hands on your thighs trying to guide you down. Feeling you cage him in and you taking up all his senses was what he needed. But you were still unsure, even with Anton’s eyes honing in on the pretty pattern of the panties he was determined to eat through you hesitated above him.

“You’ll stop me if you can’t breathe right?” You fought against his hands trying to bring you down. Every breath he took fanned your heat, he could already see the fabric forming to you. “I really couldn’t deal with the guilt if I killed you.” You said.

Anton thought this would be an amazing way to die. Suffocating between thighs and drowning in you. Could aliens be persecuted on Earth? Would you just go back to Venus and never come back?

“Anton.” He looked from your heat back up to you. You tried leaning back to see more of his face but his hold on you kept you in place. “Are you listening to me?” You asked.

“Yes. I’m listening.” He almost went crosseyed focusing back on your center. One of your hands went to grip the armrest past Anton’s head, preemptively giving yourself something to stabilize your body with. He dragged his words out, purposefully letting his breath fan your clammy skin. You were twitching for him already. He pulled you down again. “I’ll tell you, I promise.”

He was grateful his plea was what made you give in. One more tug at your thighs and you were lowering yourself on his mouth, and Anton was sticking out his tongue to lave your panties that covered your clit. He felt you hovering your weight above his head, scared to give him all of it, then he pushed your panties to the side. Almost immediately Anton felt more of your weight and your thighs close around his head. He felt your body lean forwards and he heard your exasperated breath, then a whimper that told him you were getting used to this. He lifted you only a second to drop you directly on his tongue, and he started sucking and licking whatever he could touch. 

Your thighs were shaking around his head, and Anton was becoming increasingly aware of his own body. His dick was twitching in his pants, with each jump or sound you made he was beginning to feel the tension rising along his entire body. He needed more. He was almost there, he almost had the chord or the arrangement. Revelation was on the tip of his tongue. Anton's fingers kept your underwear pushed to the side, he could feel the wet cotton sticking to the side of his face. He hummed again, and you pitched forward to grab the armrest of his couch for stability.

"Do you want me to touch you?" You asked the question quickly. You two made eye contact, his words of just needed you to get off was trapped between your legs. Even if you heard him he knew it'd be lost on him. You were too giving, and he revealed that one of his favorite things in this life was when you'd touch him.

You push yourself from the armrest of the couch and reach behind you, instantly pressing into the bulge. He's so strung up stimulation feels like pain, he's ready to pop at any moment. He hasn't been touched since he saw you last, and he couldn't think of doing anything for himself when you weren't here. Part of being from a different world must mean that your touch goes right through fabric. When your hand cups over his pants it's like you're gripping him in your own hands.

Whatever it is you're doing to him is too juvenile for him to cum first. It almost becomes a competition, he becomes greedy. He tongues you until he pushes past the ring of muscle, sucking on whatever his lips touch. Anton pushed on your ass until it pushed you forward, where his nose bumped your clit. His other hand wrapped around the top of your thigh and pushed you back. He repeated the motion, sucking harder each time your body hitched from you bumping into his nose. When he stopped guiding you Anton was grateful you abandoned more of your inhibitions to repeat the motions on your own. He was grateful that his pleasure became an after thought. You abandoned his dick completely to lean forward again, to press your hand to your lower stomach to really focus grinding on his face. Anton could feel you over his body, but your slick coated his chin. You You were making a mess on his lips too, moaning louder than the sounds he was making between your legs. 

Anton was too busy watching the way your stomach tensed and relaxed each time you ground your hips on his face that he was getting lost. Between notes and songwriting and everything else he was grinding against nothing, his legs draped over the other end of the couch and his body tensed up. You were becoming rigid above him too, your hand in his hair pulled roughly as your body came increasingly heavy on his lips. Anton still drove you forward, until your clit bumped his nose over and over again. You shifted on top of him to fully ride his face, bucking on him over and over.

"Close." You whimpered. Anton felt your hand grip his hair, keeping him in place. He was getting smothered by you, your thighs came close to his face and kept him caged in. "Close, Ton. You're always so good for me."

Anton nodded and continued the motion. He guided you easily, through your body shaking above him. He still continued to suck, until your thighs shook around his head. When you looked down at him Anton kept going, even when you tried lifting your body again he kept you there. He was so close, he just needed a little more. His hands on your waist was rough, he could see your skin dimpling underneath his fingers. He vocalized how he needed you to hold on, but it was hard to break through your noises and how your body was muffling him. 

When you finally froze above him, Anton could taste all of you. He continued sucking even when you pulled even harder at his hair. You had to shake your head and cry out to finally get him to stop. You melted above him, it was Anton who had to lift you off of his face. He watched you stagger on your knees forward, he tiled his head to follow your movements until you were leaning against the edge of the couch.

Both of you had to catch your breath. Anton sat up fully to see you mold into the couch, your chest raising and lowering. He was a little bit more composed, save for the way his hair stuck to his forehead and his entire face glistening with you and sweat.

"Did that help with your writers block?"

Suddenly, everything hits Anton at once. He stands up from the couch, still painfully hard and face flushed, leaving you in your seat. Anton peaks past the doorway of his bedroom to stare directly at you.

"Don't leave." He says quickly before disappearing past the doorframe.

Anton woke up from the sun coming through his window. He forgot to draw the blinds last night, leaving him blinking and already fighting through a headache. He blinked to try and adjust to the light, moving from his side to the other. His door was open. He remembered closing it last night. He also remembered you being on the bed next to him, but he went to sleep knowing you wouldn’t be here in the morning. Still while he faced the open door his other hand mindlessly ran over the spot you were laying last night. He still felt a crater in the sheets where you laid and he swore you left your perfume there too. When he took a deep breath in he could smell you, and he could still taste you too. 

When he looked past the open door he could see the mess you two left in the living room. There was a moment you two were having a heart to heart and the next you were pushing things off the coffee table. His expensive glass fruit bowl was surely chipped if not broken, and he had his throw pillows and blankets laying on the floor. He was still waking up when the buzzing sound from across the bed pulled his attention back to his room. Anton had to crawl over your side of his bed to his nightstand, unplugging his phone and mindlessly unlocking it.

He meandered on the homescreen, blinking constantly as he tried to jumpstart his mind. He even looked away from his phone completely for a moment, focusing on the quiet of his room as he let his thoughts come back to him. He remembered what he was doing the moment his eyes landed on his home studio. He looked at the turn tables and his computer screen that was still awake. He still had the file he was working on open. Anton recalled the song as he clicked on Wonbin’s phone number in his call log.

Anton brought his phone to his face and listened to it ring. He went back down to laying on his bed, one side pressed into the mattress as he kept his phone balanced on the other side. Anton even let his eyes close again as the phone continued to ring. He let out a yawn, fully expecting to catch Wonbin’s voicemail instead of catching him.

“I was calling you last night.” Wonbin says.

Anton still keeps his eyes closed as he hums an acknowledgment into the transmission. Wonbin doesn’t continue to pry even at the clear sign of disrespect, both of them already know what Anton is about to say.

“I have a new song.” Anton could practically hear Wonbin on the other end of the line sigh in relief. Anton imagined Sohee was there with him, the two crowded around the receiver of the phone trying to see who can hear the good news first. He imagines the two of them hitting eachother in excitement at the thought of releasing something new. Anton opens his eyes to look at his computer screen again. He finally feels the embarrassment as he recalls the inspiration he got for the song. He clears his throat, trying to will the memories away. “Come by and I can play it for you guys.” He says.

Anton didn’t have time to clean up his place before the two of them arrived. It seemed as though Wonbin and Sohee were waiting on his call. Within ten minutes he already got the text from Wonbin that they were outside. Anton only had five minutes to light an incense and try to desperately clean up the mess you two made the night prior. He ended up stuffing somethings into his closet, there were still shards of glass on the floor when the two were knocking on his door. 

When Anton opened his door the two barely spared a greeting, instead making a beeline past Anton’s mess of a common area to his bedroom. He saw Wonbin’s attention scatter across his terribly cleaned mess, speaking over his shoulder as Anton closed the distance between them.

“Your place usually isn’t this much of a mess, Anton.” Wonbin says casually.

Anton watches Wonbin’s attention stay on the jostled throw pillows and blanket on his couch. Anton’s face heats up when he remembers the night before. After you rode his face, the rest of the night was a blur. What you two did after that came in snatches. When Anton followed Wonbin’s gaze around his apartment he remembered it. Your hand planted on the back of the couch and the other clutching at the armrest as he fucked you from behind. He remembered the feeling of your sweaty shoulder clasped in his palm as he kept you driving backwards and the way you looked back at what he was doing to you.

“This usually happens to artists when they work on a project.” Sohee says matter-of-factly. 

Wonbin stops walking and looks at the back of Sohee’s head. Anton stops behind Wonbin and Sohee stops right before he walks past the threshold of Anton’s door. 

Anton feels like at any moment their attention will go to the mess and ask why it looks like a tornado ripped through his apartment. Anton almost feels relief that the two decided to bother eachother instead.

Anton watches Sohee give Wonbin his snooty know-it-all look, the one that always drives Wonbin crazy. Instead of responding, Wonbin only drives his finger into Sohee’s side. Sohee instinctually reaches forward to return the favor, causing Wonbin to back up on reflex before reaching forward to try and prod his side again. Anton watches the two of them try and fight. 

They don’t stop until Anton clears his throat and points towards his room. Almost immediately Sohee and Wonbin come to their senses to walk towards Anton’s room. Wonbin pokes Sohee’s side one more time as a joke, causing all three of them to laugh.

When Sohee goes into Anton’s room, he heads to the bed first. Anton tries to be calm seeing Sohee sit in the same spot on the edge of the bed you occupied not even twelve hours ago. Sohee unknowingly sets his backpack next to him, right on top of the pile where your discarded clothes rested before. Anton had to push past Wonbin, remaining neutral as he prepped the song to be played.

Anton trailed behind the two of them, and had to remain neutral at the sight of Wonbin doing a once over of the ground. Anton panicked and did the same, praying that he picked up all evidence of the night he had. When Wonbin’s eyes lingered on a crumbled shirt that looked a size to small, Anton cleared his thought. When his face went hot again he focused back on the computer, letting the sound of Sohee moving on his unmade bed fill the silence.

“When’d you finish this?” Sohee asked.

Anton looked back briefly. He saw Sohee playfully kick his feet that dangled over the edge of Anton’s bed as he leaned back onto the mattress. Anton forced himself to focus on clicking through the files on his desktop not looking back again. 

“Uhm. Last night.” Anton mumbled.

He felt bad for his non-assuming friend, how he had no idea he sat in the same spot where you were pathetically drooling onto his mattress the night before. The thought made Anton the complete opposite of how he was in that moment, he could only shyly nod his head when Sohee made a sound of acknowledgment.

Wonbin moved to the same spot beside the bed where Anton got down on his knees and draped your legs over his shoulders.

“Let’s hear it.” He said.

Anton pressed play and adjusted the volume, letting the beginning play. As the instrumental picked up Anton sheepishly described the type of song he had in mind for the beat. He prayed Sohee and Wonbin didn’t pick up on the deep bass immediately. He tried desperately to beat around the bush to such an extent that Sohee and Wonbin would come up with their own interpretation. 

“It’s on the slower side, but I think we could have really hard hitting lyrics here.” Anton said while making an encompassing motion with his hands.

Anton was grateful that his bandmates didn’t notice the flustered tone or his nervous habit of speaking with his hands. Sohee was thinking about the vocal color he needed for this song and Anton could already see Wonbin crafting the lyrics in his head. The true inspiration of the song seemed to go over their heads for a moment—Anton started easing as they nodded along approvingly to the beat. 

He believed he was in the clear, but when the chorus of the song came around and the sound of a bed creaking played through the speakers of Anton’s computer his bandmates froze. Anton saw Sohee and Wonbin exchange a side eye. Sohee’s legs that dangled over the edge of Anton’s bed stopped kicking suddenly and his head tilted to the side. Wonbin’s mouth dropped and he pulled his hand away from his face. 

Both of them were pulled from their reverie, looking up from the ground to look Anton dead in the eye.

“What type of song is this?” Wonbin asked.

Anton watched Sohee slowly turn around to take in Anton’s unmade bed. He could practically saw the lightbulb go off above his bandmates head as he watched Sohee look over the jostled covers and the folded pillow still laying in the center of the bed. Sohee slowly lifted his hands from the mattress and sat upright and turned back to Anton just as slow.

“No way.” Sohee says in disbelief.

At Anton’s reddening face and Sohee’s agape mouth Wonbin did a once over again. When the lightbulb went off over his head he begins laughing so hard he has to bend over and hold his chest. 

“Unbelievable.” Wonbin wipes the tears from his face. “Unbelievable.”

[ms-demeanor]

Amy tips for getting 30 prebuilt pcs for 1500$ each

We're going to play a game where I show tumblr what I do at work by doing it on tumblr. You can answer my questions in successive anonymous asks. My responses to you will be bracketed by dashed lines, with instructions and commentary before and after.

---------------------------

Hi Anon!

I can definitely help you with your desktop needs. Can you tell me whether you're looking minimize your costs, or get the maximum amount of computer that I can get you for a per-unit price of $1500?

Here are some details that will help me narrow down options that are a good fit for your situation:

Very generally, what will these be for? Basic office use (browsing, office suite)? Video Production? CAD? Finance? Medical providers? Educators?

What date are you looking to have these machines in place?

Is there a specific type of software that you know will be installed on these devices, and if so can you get me the hardware specs required by the software vendor?

Please let me know if you've got any questions, or if there is anything that I can do for you.

Thanks! - Ms-D

-----------------------------

The average cost of business desktops that I sell at work is $700-$900; these are devices that I would give an anticipated lifespan of 7 years, with hardware upgrades planned at 5 years. This is for a mid-range desktop with a 3-year next business day onsite warranty, no software, and does not include the cost of tax, shipping, or configuration. The cost of labor can come close to the cost of the machine for configuration. If I were *PERSONALLY* deploying these machines (pulling them out of the box, debloating, creating profiles, installing software, reboxing, transporting to the site, installing and connecting to peripherals) I'd probably charge around $200-300 per device. My work charges a lot more. Because of that, a 1500 computer is quite likely to be a 700 computer with three hours of estimated labor. If you've got an in-house IT department and aren't going to be paying through the nose for setup, you can get *a lot* of business-class computer for $1500.

If someone at work asked me for a $1500 computer, I would assume that was the cost of the machine ONLY, no peripherals, no configuration, no installation, no software, though I would try to consider both tax and our markup and would look for devices that would maximize performance while under-but-close-to the mark. If I found something that was slightly over (say by up to $70), I would drop our markup to get closer to the client's budget.

What this means for YOU, the computer consumer, is that when you're looking at a computer you need to consider the following in your budget, NOT just the sticker price.

Computer Cost

Software Cost

Setup Cost (if you're not doing it yourself)

Shipping Cost

Tax

Peripherals (computers almost all come with a mouse and a keyboard, these are usually inexpensive but very sturdy; if you want a nice keyboard and an ergonomic mouse you have to buy your own)

Whether you will LOSE peripherals when you replace your current device - do you need to buy an external optical disk drive if your old machine had a CD drive but the new machine doesn't?

Those things can add hundreds of dollars to your total cost, so figure out how much that will be so that you can figure out what your ACTUAL budget for your computer is.

(Also your computer shouldn't be plugged directly into the wall; if you're getting ready to replace a machine and you don't already own a desktop UPS, a desktop UPS should be part of the cost of your next machine!)

[leatherfaggotgayscally]

The New Life

Martin had always been the quiet, unassuming type. A software engineer by trade, his days were spent coding, sipping black coffee, and meticulously planning every moment of his life. His evenings were reserved for gaming marathons, vinyl record sessions, or quietly nurturing his bonsai tree. Moving into a small flat on the outskirts of Birmingham was supposed to be a practical step, a chance to save money and focus on work.

The flat wasn’t much, but Martin liked its simplicity. The only peculiar thing was the landlord, a man he had never met. The lease was finalized online, and the key had been left in a lockbox. Every question Martin emailed received curt, almost cryptic replies signed simply, “J.”

One late night, after staying up to debug an infuriating piece of code, Martin collapsed into bed, still wearing his plain grey hoodie and jeans. He drifted off immediately, his laptop humming softly on his desk.

When he woke, his world had changed.

The first thing he noticed was the weight on his chest. Groggily, Martin looked down and saw a thick, gleaming gold chain resting against a black Nike tracksuit. The outfit was completed by a black puffer jacket and a pair of pristine white Nike TNs on his feet.

Panicking, Martin stumbled out of bed and caught his reflection in the mirror. His neatly combed hair was gone, replaced by a sharp buzz cut. His room, once spotless, was a wreck—empty takeaway containers, cans of lager, and scraps of paper were strewn everywhere. His laptop was missing, replaced by a battered Bluetooth speaker blaring grime music at low volume.

His heart racing, Martin snatched his phone off the bedside table, only to find it completely wiped. All his apps, contacts, and files were gone. The only thing left was a single number saved under the name “J.”

Trembling, he pressed the call button.

“’Bout bloody time,” a deep, gravelly voice answered on the first ring. “Come ‘round the back o’ the block. We need a word.”

“Who are you? What’s going on?” Martin stammered.

“Quit yappin’ and get yer arse down here, mate.” The call ended abruptly.

Martin didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to obey. Pulling on the puffer jacket, he stepped into the cold evening air and walked around the back of the building.

There, leaning casually against the wall, was a man in a black puffer jacket and trackies. He was smoking a cigarette, his buzzed head gleaming in the faint glow of the streetlight. His posture was relaxed, but something about him radiated authority.

“’Ere he is,” the man said with a smirk, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Sleep well, bruv?”

Martin stared. “Are you… J?”

“That’s what they call me,” the man said, tapping ash off his cigarette. “So, what d’ya think of yer new look?”

“I hate it!” Martin snapped. “What is this? I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this!”

Jay laughed, his voice rough and mocking. “Come off it, lad. Don’t act like you’re not buzzin’. I’ve seen yer socials, seen all them scally pages you follow. Don’t lie to me.”

Martin’s cheeks flushed. He had spent hours scrolling through photos of lads in tracksuits, admiring their swagger and confidence. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be one.

“This isn’t me,” he insisted, backing away.

Jay took a slow drag of his cigarette and stepped closer. His voice dropped to a low, commanding tone. “Stop pretendin’, mate. This is who you’ve always wanted to be. Now, take a drag o’ this cig and let it sink in.”

“I don’t smoke,” Martin mumbled.

Jay raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Didn’t ask if you did, did I? Now, stop bein’ soft and take it.”

Martin hesitated, but Jay’s imposing presence was too much. Slowly, he took the cigarette. He brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke burned his throat, making him cough, but as he exhaled, everything began to shift.

A strange warmth spread through his body. His muscles tensed and grew, filling out the tracksuit. His back straightened, and his posture shifted to one of casual confidence.

Jay chuckled, clapping Martin on the shoulder. “There ya go, lad. Told ya it’d suit ya.”

Over the next few days, Martin’s life unraveled completely. He quit his office job without a second thought. “Desk jobs are for nerds,” he scoffed when Jay asked him about it. Instead, he took up a hard labor gig at a nearby warehouse. The pay was awful, but Martin didn’t care. He liked the physicality of it, the way it made him feel strong and capable.

Every night, Jay would knock on his door, and they’d head out together. They’d hang around the estate or outside the local chippy, blasting grime music and chatting with Jay’s mates. At first, Martin felt out of place, but as the nights went on, he began to embrace it.

He started rolling cigarettes with ease, perfecting his swagger, and adjusting his tracksuit to show off his gold chain. He even picked up a thick Brummie slang, finding himself talking more like Jay and less like his old, nerdy self.

His flat became a reflection of his new life—messy, lively, and filled with the sound of music and laughter. The Martin who once prided himself on his orderliness and ambition was gone.

One evening, as they leaned against a wall under a dim streetlight, Jay passed him another cigarette.

“Told ya, lad,” Jay said with a smirk. “This is where you belong.”

Martin lit the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke as he nodded. His gold chain glinted in the light, and his buzzed head shone faintly. “Yeah,” he said with a cocky grin. “You were right, mate.”

The transformation was complete. The quiet, bookish Martin was no more. In his place stood a confident scally lad, unbothered and unapologetic.

[pennyblossom-meta]

Do you believe L would prefer to be with someone who is smart academic wise or some other brainy smart or would he not mind someone who is “average” but has something outside of academics they may excel at? (history, cooking, art, baking, sports etc)

Hi there anon! Thanks for question. I've actually theorised about this exact topic a couple of times before, and I might actually have an unorthodox opinion about it. But before I start my analysis, I would like to refer you to a few metas that I personally find extremely compelling and which have also shaped my view of L.

Toxic love, by @lunalit-river

An analysis on L's monster speech by lux-mea-lex (lots of great metas in their livejournal)

A short interpretation of the monster speech by @lawlightautismtruther (also check the debate on that one, it's very interesting to see the different opinions across the fandom)

How L and Light judge each other and other people

Just about most of @my-one-true-l 's metas about L, like this one and this one about L's flaws.

@43501 has a great meta about L in a relationship which I agree with wholeheartedly.

Apologies in advance for the length in this rant of mine. I like to analyse L from different angles, as you might've guessed 😛

Short answer:

I think L would appreciate someone who makes an effort to meet him where he's at and accepts him for who he is. Someone he can have a conversation with, but is ultimately kind and trustworthy. These two qualities would be to L like a lifeline, because it's something he's missing on an intimate level. While Watari is loyal to him and cares about his well being, these are different types of relationships.

>>>>>Long answer under the cut

So, one of the things I find that helps me when looking at L from this romantic perspective is to search for clues across canon (manga, anime) and the expanded universe (L:CtW, LA:BB, drama, Spiraling Trap, etc) that explain what's going on in his head and, most importantly, what makes him interested in people.

As per your question:

Do you believe L would prefer to be with someone who is smart academic wise or some other brainy smart or would he not mind someone who is “average” but has something outside of academics they may excel at? (history, cooking, art, baking, sports etc)

Let's approach this in two parts. If we were analysing this from a relationship POV, whether romantic or platonic, I can see two major interpretations:

(Chapter 20: First move) Here's a screenshot of L losing a tennis match to Light. Makes him less daunting, doesn't it? To know even L can lose at not-so-mundane-but-still-quite-normal things he's supposed to be great at.

01: The intellectual allure vs a supportive SO

There's oceans of difference between being a genius and someone who can give L support and companionship, despite not speaking the same "language". This would not be too dissimilar to couples with wildly different career paths (ex: a nurse and a software developer) who meet halfway and actively choose to understand each other. It has to do with common goals and values, your life project together.

Love is something you choose every day. Staying in a long-term relationship is choosing to be vulnerable and to share your life with someone you find kinship with. Unorthodox L may be, but as Fu Takahashi (who plays L in the 2020 musical) said:

(...) despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine (...) He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind.

The above quote is super important, in my opinion, considering how difficult it is to pin down L's true personality. If we go by Spiraling Trap terms, he falls for a main character who pays attention to his (dessert) needs and makes him feel 'seen'. Taken cared of. Someone who is genuinely kind to him and wants to do him a good turn because they care about him. We can extrapolate that this is, perhaps, due to his isolationist tendencies and lack of meaningful contact with the sort who take time to want to know the true L and what he likes. To that kind of person, L isn't just the world's greatest detective or a machine, lacking human emotion --- that person acknowledges that he has feelings, likes and dislikes, and isn't malicious towards him.

Consider that L lies a lot. He'd lie twice saying "good morning" if it suited him, which makes for an unhealthy dynamic. However, for those he truly cares about, I believe he would be far more careful to safeguard the few genuine connections he has in life and thus try to curb some bad behaviours to the best of his ability.

I believe @43501 put it best when they mentioned how L would prefer an [educated, clever partner] but that he'd be drawn to people who are [interesting and offbeat]. I would argue this doesn't mean a double PhD level of intelligence, but rather someone who is curious about the world, who talks to him like an equal (i.e., not as if he's superior or inferior to them). There would need to be something to that person that made them unique to L --- but uniqueness in the context of someone who suppresses their emotions so strongly, and would find themselves to be starving for affection once they found that source of comfort and support, I believe that uniqueness could be kindness.

Accept the man despite his quirks and flaws, in all his intensity, and I believe it would be impossible for L to be indifferent to that kind of genuine devotion. After all, he's been without all his life and likely never thought he'd find it. It's possible that, in his loneliness, a part of him even thought himself to be above such things, but what a tumble it would be, for L to find that he's a man dying of thirst.

...

Now, in manga canon (and throughout the source material closest to it), L and Light find a degree of interest in each other for how similar they are in intellect. This creates a connection, even respect between the two, allowing them to see beyond each other's mask. It's thrilling, a cat and mouse game which they arguably become addicted to. Once L dies, Light even muses how Near is lacking by comparison, undeserving.

However, if we go by what V13:HTR says regarding their relationship, then L does think quite poorly of Light beyond their matching intellect. This is more or less explicit in a couple of scenes in the manga and anime where L muses about how much Light talks, how cheesy he is with his faux morality, putting up an act.

No matter L's interest in the game with Light, he doesn't trust him. Trust is paramount to build a healthy relationship. Theirs would be a toxic, petty relationship standing on foundations of distrust, and a thirst for constant competition.

From this perspective, L arguably wouldn't be in love, but stuck in an addictive powerplay. Very engaging to read about; certainly challenging (and interesting!) to write — but not so good to live through. The best case scenario I can see for such a relationship would be something like the series Vicious with Sir Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi, in which they settle into a constant clash of snark.

I talk here about the prospect of L being 'out of balance' emotionally, which makes him dive into games of the mind to distract himself from his burdens.

02. Appreciation for another type of individual, the average...Sam?

(Chapter 21: Duplicity) Added this one here because this exchange always makes me chuckle.

I'd like to focus on the 2015 drama to establish a parallel with this 'average' Sam concept.

In this adaptation, Light is far more 'normal' than in any other. He diverges from his original canon self in various ways, though the most interesting for me was how the drama tried to show what Light, as a regular young adult, could be if he wasn't an extreme genius, a perfect guy in the eyes of society --- and how this shift would contrast with L.

Drama Light:

Goes to concerts

Is a fanboy

Is clumsy

Gets bullied

He's not the perfect guy with an immaculate reputation. It brings him further down to the ground, like us common mortals.

Both L and Light found solace and appreciation in the differences of their mindset. A more 'average' Light still managed to connect with L, leading to this scene:

If we consider the drama and then extrapolate a few conclusions from these interactions, we can argue that an 'average' but grounding presence in L's life would do him good. An uber genius might be able to follow L's thought process more easily, but they can still become an issue or more easily turn on him for the intellectual competition and to surpass the world's greatest detective.

...

TLDR; I would argue that an average individual would still be a perfect match for L, perhaps far more than an incredible genius. L would value kindness and care far more than super intellect, especially if he was on the receiving end of this kind of genuine connection.

[nostalgebraist]

So, about this new "AI 2027" report...

I have not read the whole thing in detail, but my immediate reaction is kind of like what I said about "Bio Anchors" a while back.

Like Bio Anchors – and like a lot of OpenPhil reports for that matter – the AI 2027 report is mainly a very complex estimation exercise.

It takes a certain way of modeling things as a given, and then does a huge amount of legwork to fill in the many numeric constants in an elaborate model of that kind, with questions like "is this actually a reasonable model?" and "what are the load-bearing assumptions here?" covered as a sort of afterthought.

For instance, the report predicts a type of automated R&D feedback loop often referred to a "software intelligence explosion" or a "software-only singularity." There has been a lot of debate over the plausibility of this idea – see Eth and Davidson here for the "plausible" case, and Erdil and Barnett here for the "implausible" case, which in turn got a response from Davidson here. That's just a sampling of very recent entries in this debate, there's plenty more where that came from.

Notably, I don't think "AI 2027" is attempting to participate in this debate. It contains a brief "Addressing Common Objections" section at the end of the relevant appendix, but it's very clear (among other things, simply from the relative quantity of text spent on one thing versus another) that the "AI 2027" authors are not really trying to change the minds of "software intelligence explosion" skeptics. That's not the point of their work – the point is making all these detailed estimates about what such a thing would involve, if indeed it happens.

And the same holds for the rest of their (many) modeling assumptions. They're not trying to convince you about the model, they're just estimating its parameters.

But, as with Bio Anchors, the load-bearing modeling assumptions get you most of the way to the conclusion. So, despite the name, "AI 2027" isn't really trying to convince you that super-powerful AI is coming within the decade.

If you don't already expect that, you're not going to get much value out of these fiddly estimation details, because (under your view) there are still-unresolved questions – like "is a software intelligence explosion plausible?" – whose answers have dramatically more leverage over your expectations than facts like "one of the parameters in one of the sub-sub-compartments of their model is lognormally distributed with 80% CI 0.3 to 7.5."

---

Maybe this is obvious, I dunno? I've just seen some reactions where people express confusion because the whole picture seems unconvincing and under-motivated to them, and I guess I'm trying to explain what I think is going on.

And I'm also worried – as always with this stuff – that there are some people who will look at all those pages and pages of fancy numbers, and think "wow! this sounds crazy but I can't argue with Serious Expert Research™," and end up getting convinced even though the document isn't really trying to convince them in the first place.

---

Now, if you do buy all the assumptions of the model, then yes, I guess this seems like a valuable exercise. If you are literally Daniel Kokotajlo, and hence believe in all the kind of stuff that Daniel Kokotajlo believes, then it makes sense to do all this legwork to "draw in the fine details" of that high-level view. And yeah, if you think the End Times are probably coming in a few years (but you might be able to do something about that at the margins), then you probably do want to get very precise about exactly how much time you have left, and when it will become too late for this or that avenue for change.

(Note that while I don't agree with him about this stuff, I do respect Kokotajlo a lot! I mean, you gotta hand it to him... not only did he predict what we now call the "Gen AI boom" with eerie accuracy way back in 2021, he was also a whistleblower who refused to sign OpenAI's absurd you-can't-talk-about-the-fact-that-you-can't-talk-about-it non-disparagement agreement, thereby bringing it into public view at last.)

But, in short, this report doesn't really touch on the reasons I disagree with short timelines. It doesn't really engage with my main objections, nor is it trying to do so. If you don't already expect "AI" in "2027" then "AI 2027" is not going to change your view.

[frameacloud]

Some ways to avoid generative AI in web searches

Our web searches are being filled with more and more AI-generated slop. GenAI creates misinformation that can be difficult to tell apart from the correct answer to whatever question you're looking up. GenAI mixes things up that have similar names. In one example that is especially easy to recognize, genAI has thought that a baseball team and the bird that it was named after must both be the same creature, with a bizarre combination of their eating habits and behaviors. This mistake still happens with specialized topics that could be harder for you to recognize unless if you're already very familiar with the topic in question. GenAI also makes up fake sources and facts out of thin air, and you can't tell until you try to find them somewhere else. The tech is more like advanced predictive text than something capable of research or reasoning, even though it can look enough like it that it can fool you if you don't know how to spot its mistakes.

Not only are the results of genAI unreliable, the source texts and images that they’re based on were used without permission. Sometimes they aren't modified enough to avoid plagiarism, but it's worse than that. Source images have turned out to be private medical photos and intimate personal photos that hackers had stolen and leaked to harass the people in the photos. Another reason why this technology is unethical is that each genAI query has such a high energy cost that it's significantly harmful to the environment, contributing to the climate crisis.

Here are some things that you can do when you use Google, DuckDuckGo, or other conventional general web search engines:

To turn off Google's AI Overview, set "web" as default. Here's how to do that on your devices and web browsers.

Add this string to any web search to only show results from before the genAI fad. Before:2021

Install the web browser extension uBlacklist. You give it a list of web addresses to not show you in your web searches anymore. Other people maintain lists for it that you can subscribe to so that you won’t see certain types of results in your web searches. Follow the instructions in Laylavish’s Huge AI Blocklist to subscribe to that list which will rid your web search results of AI-generated pages or images.

Since genAI slop is getting to be such a big problem on them, use alternatives to conventional general web search engines some of the time:

Use a specialized search engine instead of a general one. For example, if you only wanted to find a particular science article, there are specialized search engines that only look for those. The blog post "Skip Google for Research" has a list of specialized search engines for academics.

GenAI is notoriously bad at math because that’s too far outside the scope it was designed for: advanced predictive text. In any case, genAI is overpowered for math that is easy for computers to do. If you want to use a very advanced calculator, or even ask a math question in natural language, use Wolfram Alpha.

For questions about how to do things, look them up in WikiHow, the Youtube channel Dad, How Do I? or The Ultimate Manuals Library.

You can search within Wikipedia, but unfortunately vandals have been putting machine-generated falsehoods into it, as well as genAI images. To avoid this, use the article history to view versions of the article from before 2022.

Ask yourself if there are some topics that you often do a web search for just because you keep forgetting an answer to something. Start saving those answers in a book or file that you can refer to offline. This is called a commonplace book. For an example of one, Beth and Angel made theirs into a zine, Stuff I Often Google.

How about a completely different sort of web search than present-day Google or DuckDuckGo? Marginalia Search only brings up results that are text-heavy and similar to the web of the 1990s and 2000s. Its software is independent and open-source.

Have you been using a web search engine to take you to the websites that you visit on a regular basis? Switch to saving them in your web browser's bookmarks folder. Your web browser, Firefox, can sync your bookmarks to your other devices. If you often need to refer to a large number of static web pages (ones that don't change what is on them every day), then you can save and organize them in your Zotero, a bibliography management program. You can sort them with folders and tags so you can find them again.

[kirstoons]

SDV Sebastian x Female Farmer (Yandere)

Author: Me (kirstoons)

Editor and Queef: @gayrahim

TRIGGER WARNING: NSFW, 18+ content, MDNI

Chapter 2

Summary: After you depart from his house, Sebastian starts setting his plan in motion. This chapter also gives you a sneak peak into his perverted mind.

After you leave Sebastian’s house

Once you’re out the door, Sebastian immediately starts making plans. This is far too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. Just like in Solarian Chronicles, he is in control of the board and just needs to make the path clear for you. To do so means to make alternative paths… inaccessible.

Robin gives Sebastian a small look of surprise saying, “I’m surprised you’re being so hospitable.” Sebastian paints an expression of boredom as he replies, “yeah, well she is basically part of our group now. I should be friendly, at least to keep the peace.”

Robin gives a knowing nod, a little disappointed in her son’s answer. She kind of hoped that he was putting himself out there more but his response reflects only preservation of the status quo.

“So you’re gonna be away working this week?”, he tries to get the answers he needs but also not tip his mom off about any of his intentions.

“Yeah, I gotta finish these blueprints tonight and have her approve them. If that goes well, I’ll prob head there tomorrow morning to start construction. I’ll be working pretty late so it’ll likely just be you, Maru and Demetri for dinner these next few nights. Try not to antagonize either of them, please?” She gives Sebastian a pleading look knowing it’s a hard task.

“Ughh”, Sebastian groans as he turns his back to her to walk to the basement, but he already has a wicked grin by the time he reaches the door. He plops down in his computer chair and takes a deep breath as he readies himself for the next part of his plan.

Later that evening, a small ding sounds from his computer sending him in an excited frenzy to get to the notification.

Email from: robin@robinswoodshop.sdv

To: y/n@pinkhillfarms.sdv

Hi y/n,

Here is an attached copy of the blueprints I designed. Let me know if you have any questions or edits. I was planning to head over to your farm tomorrow morning, after I get these plans approved. Also, the day that you can’t stay in the house should fall on Thursday, Fall 11. I’ll be sure to keep you up to date with any changes.

Looking forward to seeing you,

Robin

Sebastian downloads the blueprints onto his desktop and begins studying them thoroughly, typing notes on his other monitor as he peruses them. He then opens up the file in his editing software and starts to make a few adjustments. Some are small, like a larger closet, an access door from the house to the crawl space, large bay windows out front, and LOTS more electrical outlets and other cable hookups. Most of these would go unnoticed under that cute, oblivious nose of yours. He made sure to to use the most technical terms and odd specifications for all the electrical work, knowing that they’d confuse his mom, resulting in her asking for his help with installation.

Now for the more sizable changes. A small wood shelter to the side of the house that can be passed off as extra wood storage or whatever farm shit you wanted to put in there. He made sure it was the perfect location to obscure his motorcycle headlights for his “late night visits” and far enough from the house for the sound of the engine to not disturb your precious sleep. This change would be obvious to you but he knew he could pass it off as kindness from his mother who just appreciates her business. The last big change was that crawl space. Sebastian couldn’t help but think to himself what a lucky girl you are to be receiving a fully finished crawl space (an expense he’d have to foot but knew it was well worth it for his precious girl).

While finishing up his special tweaks, he received another email notification.

Hey Robin!

These look sooooo great! I’m so excited to get started! I only have one edit to ask and it’s super small. Could you install a security camera to my front porch? I bought the camera already, so it just needs an install. Other than that, the blueprints are officially approved :D

Thanks again!

Y/n

Even in email format you were adorable. Sebastian could feel his dick twitch as he read the email in your voice. And your compliance certainly helped. You definitely made his plans go a lot smoother and he couldn’t help but to utter “good girl” under his breath. He had already prepared for your response and had your email go straight to him instead of Robin. He then composed an email from your account to read nearly the same but asking for the additional edits he made. As he prepared a response to your email posing as his mother, there was a knock at his door.

Sebastian quickly and skillfully minimized the applications and opened a decoy webpage that had articles on Solarian Chronicle.

“What” he shouted in his typical annoyed tone.

Robin gently opened the door and stood in the doorway. “I know you hate when I bug you, but I just got an email from y/n about some edits on the blueprints. Everything is pretty standard but she asked for some internet wire stuff - or something like that - and, while most of the installations are easy, hers are pretty specific. I’m just a little out of my depth on this one so I was hoping that maybe you’d be willing to take a look and give me a hand?”

To his expectation, Sebastian threw his head back letting out an annoyed groan. “Fine, I guess,” he said in usual flat tone, even though he was thrilled to see his plans fall into place. Robin gave a warm thanks to Sebastian, trying not to gush over how happy she was to have him help her and retreated back up the basement stairs (making sure she closed the door behind her).

Sebastian, still playing middleman between yours and Robin’s emails, finished up the last of the emails, letting you know that your requests would be accommodated and giving a small heads up to the mini shelter in order to prevent you questioning Robin in person. He tilted back on his chair with pride at his tactical approach and flawless execution.

His thoughts turned from self praise to imagining the final outcome of all this hard work. You. You belonging to him. It made him hard just thinking about you being all his. His long piano fingers work their way down to the large bulge in his jeans. He gently cups it from below and gently rubs his thumb over his denim covered shaft. He lets out a satisfied moan as he melts away into his fantasy of you begging on your hands and knees for his cock.

Unable to pull himself from his imagination he hastily undoes his jeans, slipping them to his ankles, and reaches back to the drawer behind him to grab his needed supplies. He moves a piece of fabric to the desk and fishes out a pink bottle of lotion labeled with the scent “ sweet pea and cherry blossom”; the same lotion and scent you use. He squirts a generous amount into hand and swatches a small amount of the creamy, soft pink liquid under his nose. He takes a deep inhale of the scent and focuses back into his fantasy of you being so needy for his dick.

He starts stroking the length of his shaft as he imagines you on all fours, ass in the air, moaning and begging for him to satisfy you. He imagines your pussy’s lips dripping wet and trembling in anticipation and desire for him to stick it in you but he loves seeing you in this state and wants to tease you further into submission. All four fingers are wrapped tightly around his cock, now, and he begins making longer, faster strokes along his shaft.

He thinks of him teasing your soaked cunt with his index finger, circling your precious, little hole as you beg for him to be inside you. You’d even buck your hips trying to maneuver his finger inside you but it doesn’t work. He’d call you a naughty girl for trying a trick like that before he’s given you permission. He firmly slaps your ass as punishment and to reposition you. You let out a horny shriek as you can still feel the warm sting on your ass cheek.

Sebastian pumps faster on his cock, engaging his thumb to rub the underside of head, forcing him to throw his head back and release a deep moan. He sinks further into his fantasy. He imagines feather lightly teasing your clit, causing more of your juices to spill out. Your struggle breathes a clear sign of your stimulation. He runs his head around the edge of your hole as he continues playing with his favorite button. All the anticipation and teasing becomes too much for you and your plush, pink walls contract in orgasm, shooting your slick juices out and onto his tip where he was still making playful circles.

Sebastian was furiously fapping at that point, edging himself closer and closer to release. He knew exactly what would push him over the edge. He would gently scold you for cumming before he even got his dick inside you. He calls you a needy, impatient princess who can’t stand not having things go her way. He also reminds you that he didn’t give you his permission to finish. Even though you would still be coming down from the high of your orgasim, his scolding would leave you disappointed in yourself and on the verge of tears for not properly obeying Sebastian. Right as you attempt to form an apology, Sebastian rams his cock deep into your still gushing pussy. You let out a sharp yelp but Sebastian prevents if from escaping when he presses his mouth into yours.He then starts with a few slow pumps trying to give your tight pussy time to adjust to his long, thick member. But, similar to you, he can sometimes be a bit impatient and begins thrusting faster, harder… deeper. He can hear the sounds of your juices squelching with each thrust and the smell of your cum mixed with the scented lotion wafts up to his nostrils. He feels absolutely euphoric. His cock throbs inside your warm, sticky insides, indicating how close he is to releasing his load. It’s also clear to him that you are equally as close, due to the rhythmic tightening of you fleshy walls. He whispers to you, “be a good girl and take it all, okay? Only good girls get to cum.” You bite your lip trying your best to obey his commands but the pleasure is beginning to swell again and you’re unsure of how much longer you can hold on. Thankfully, Sebastian nears his climax, giving deep grunts with each thrust. “That’s my girl… such a good��� obedient g-girl.” He pushes out the words in deep, airy breaths. “My perfect g-good gir…. fffff-f-fffuck”, he roars as his thrusts deep into your sloppy pussy, gushing his hot, thick cum into your velvety soft lips. As soon as you feel his sweet cream inside you, you immediately erupt into your own orgasm that clenches his dick, push out every drop of his cum into your overflowing hole.

Before he shoots his load all over his desk he grabs the cloth from earlier, using it to cover the end of his dick as he releases his actual load in real life. It pours out of him, soaking into the cloth and dripping down the sides of his shaft and hand. He lays there for a bit as his cock empties and he imagines what your face would look like when you orgasm. He wipes up the rest of the mess with the small cloth, now fully soaked in seamen and holds it in his hands, unfurled. Your pink and white panties, with a little lacey trim are drenched in his sperm. His dying boner twitches at the sight of them.

He gently places the cum-soaked panties in a ziploc bag and rummages to the back of his closet to pull out a large trunk with a lock. Fishing the key from his secret hiding place behind the outlet, he tenderly unlocks the chest and places his newest treasure delicately inside, next to the other pieces of his collection. He picks up one photo in particular to examine. The picture is of you looking over your shoulder toward the camera while reaching back to unhook your bra. It’s clear that the photo was taken unbeknownst to you and just outside your bedroom window at night.

Sebastian gives the photo a gentle, tender kiss as he places it back on the stack of what seems to be hundreds of others like it. He pushes the chest back into his closet and rehides the key.

After another masturbation session in the shower with his imaginary version of you (one where you needily ride his cock as he plays an online game sesh with Sam and Abigail), he cleans off and stations himself back at his desk.

“Time for the next phase,” he says softly to himself with a sly grin. He then pulls up the window on his computer that displays all the text messages on your phone. He sips from the cold mug of coffee that you had drank from this morning and begins typing away.

[commodorez]

What was the purpose of the panels of blinking lights on those big mid-century computers? Were they showing calculations in progress?

Excellent question, this is one of my favorite subjects! Blinkenlights serve a number of functions. Hollywood tended to use just the lights to make it look like a computer was busy doing something, but real computers had more than just lights on their front panel. Let's walk through a few examples of use cases with photos of computers I've seen over the years at museums and vintage computer festivals:

Some front panels were built to be used for diagnostics. Computers like these were primitive enough that they required constant care and debugging to do their jobs, especially the early vacuum tube machines (everything pictured here is transistorized). You could tell what peripherals were being used, but also check the status of registers, carry flags, status flags, data, various buses, etc. It was also a way to see if a program had "gone off into the weeds" and started doing things that were irregular, possibly due to a software bug, or a problem with the hardware.

On many of these machines, you can enter programs directly into the main memory using the front panel, but it's an incredibly tedious process -- something to be avoided if possible. Consider it a last fallback.

Other times, it's a starting point, which we call "bootstrapping" (this eventually evolved into the term "booting"). You aren't likely to program everything on such a limited interface, but you are more likely to enter in a small program that can tell the computer how to run a more complex peripheral, like a paper tape or punch card reader, or maybe some type of magnetic storage device. Once you can get a program loading off of a larger permanent storage device, you can load up software to interface with a terminal of some kind which is much easier.

Eventually, the microprocessor made home computers a possibility, but many were only equipped with a front panel out of the box. You would have to add in a serial card, more RAM, possibly some ROMs, and either a teletype or glass terminal in order to get a more sophisticated and intuitive interface from the computer, capable of programming in a higher level language. Some were considered more like trainers, or hobbyist devices, and simply lacked that ability, meaning all you got was a front panel with switches and lights.

I made my own front panel to see what the experience was all about:

Then everything changed in 1977, with the introduction of these three machines: the TRS-80 Model I, the Commodore PET 2001, and the Apple II. They were what you might call "appliance computers" and they had no need for a front panel.

Hopefully that answered your question!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Women pulling Lever on a Drilling Machine, 1978 Lee, Howl & Company Ltd., Tipton, Staffordshire, England photograph by Nick Hedges image credit: Nick Hedges Photography

* * * *

Tim Boudreau 

About the whole DOGE-will-rewrite Social Security's COBOL code in some new language thing, since this is a subject I have a whole lot of expertise in, a few anecdotes and thoughts.

Some time in the early 2000s I was doing some work with the real-time Java team at Sun, and there was a huge defense contractor with a peculiar query: Could we document how much memory an instance of every object type in the JDK uses? And could we guarantee that that number would never change, and definitely never grow, in any future Java version?

I remember discussing this with a few colleagues in a pub after work, and talking it through, and we all arrived at the conclusion that the only appropriate answer to this question as "Hell no." and that it was actually kind of idiotic.

Say you've written the code, in Java 5 or whatever, that launches nuclear missiles. You've tested it thoroughly, it's been reviewed six ways to Sunday because you do that with code like this (or you really, really, really should). It launches missiles and it works.

A new version of Java comes out. Do you upgrade? No, of course you don't upgrade. It works. Upgrading buys you nothing but risk. Why on earth would you? Because you could blow up the world 10 milliseconds sooner after someone pushes the button?

It launches fucking missiles. Of COURSE you don't do that.

There is zero reason to ever do that, and to anyone managing such a project who's a grownup, that's obvious. You don't fuck with things that work just to be one of the cool kids. Especially not when the thing that works is life-or-death (well, in this case, just death).

Another case: In the mid 2000s I trained some developers at Boeing. They had all this Fortran materials analysis code from the 70s - really fussy stuff, so you could do calculations like, if you have a sheet of composite material that is 2mm of this grade of aluminum bonded to that variety of fiberglass with this type of resin, and you drill a 1/2" hole in it, what is the effect on the strength of that airplane wing part when this amount of torque is applied at this angle. Really fussy, hard-to-do but when-it's-right-it's-right-forever stuff.

They were taking a very sane, smart approach to it: Leave the Fortran code as-is - it works, don't fuck with it - just build a nice, friendly graphical UI in Java on top of it that *calls* the code as-is.

We are used to broken software. The public has been trained to expect low quality as a fact of life - and the industry is rife with "agile" methodologies *designed* to churn out crappy software, because crappy guarantees a permanent ongoing revenue stream. It's an article of faith that everything is buggy (and if it isn't, we've got a process or two to sell you that will make it that way).

It's ironic. Every other form of engineering involves moving parts and things that wear and decay and break. Software has no moving parts. Done well, it should need *vastly* less maintenance than your car or the bridges it drives on. Software can actually be *finished* - it is heresy to say it, but given a well-defined problem, it is possible to actually *solve* it and move on, and not need to babysit or revisit it. In fact, most of our modern technological world is possible because of such solved problems. But we're trained to ignore that.

Yeah, COBOL is really long-in-the-tooth, and few people on earth want to code in it. But they have a working system with decades invested in addressing bugs and corner-cases.

Rewriting stuff - especially things that are life-and-death - in a fit of pique, or because of an emotional reaction to the technology used, or because you want to use the toys all the cool kids use - is idiotic. It's immaturity on display to the world.

Doing it with AI that's going to read COBOL code and churn something out in another language - so now you have code no human has read, written and understands - is simply insane. And the best software translators plus AI out there, is going to get things wrong - grievously wrong. And the odds of anyone figuring out what or where before it leads to disaster are low, never mind tracing that back to the original code and figuring out what that was supposed to do.

They probably should find their way off COBOL simply because people who know it and want to endure using it are hard to find and expensive. But you do that gradually, walling off parts of the system that work already and calling them from your language-du-jour, not building any new parts of the system in COBOL, and when you do need to make a change in one of those walled off sections, you migrate just that part.

We're basically talking about something like replacing the engine of a plane while it's flying. Now, do you do that a part-at-a-time with the ability to put back any piece where the new version fails? Or does it sound like a fine idea to vaporize the existing engine and beam in an object which a next-word-prediction software *says* is a contraption that does all the things the old engine did, and hope you don't crash?

The people involved in this have ZERO technical judgement.

[weenwrites]

Hello! Can you please write some platonic/familial headcannons for tfp soundwave and a human reader who lives on the Nemesis with them?

The reader is an artist who is very quiet and tends to only show their emotions around soundwave, most of the time you can find them sitting on soundwaves shoulder and drawing but if not then they are usually listening in on whatever gossip is going round the ship.

Thank you! don't forget to drink some water and have a yummy snack!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Sitting in silence together as you both work is Soundwave's ideal way to slowly bond with someone. However it's only ideal given his oath of silence and the type of work he does around the Nemesis. If you keep an eye out or pay close attention to whoever passes behind you and Soundwave, you'll notice that anyone that passes by the two of you automatically knows to keep quiet. You'll hear vehicons chatting and laughing over something far off in the halls, but once they get close enough there will be nothing but dead silence from them. Why they do it is something you'll never truly find out, as the answer you get varies depending on who you ask, but at least you have Soundwave to thank for the silence.

However, you don't always have to keep quiet around him while he works. He doesn't mind if you talk about things like how your day went, or something new that you're interested in, or the gossip you've heard around the ship while he works (as long as he doesn't need to completely focus on his work at the moment). They're more of a listener than a talker, but every now and then, they'll play back clips of your voice in order to ask more about something you mentioned or maybe something unrelated.

Whenever you've had your fill of work, or you want to get up and stretch your legs before you come back, all you have to do is slowly get up and Soundwave will automatically catch on that you want down. They'll lift their arm level to their shoulder and slowly set you to the ground before they continue their work.

Whenever you wander around the Nemesis, the gossip you hear varies from vehicons back talking some of the higher-ups, to vehicons from different barracks or squadrons back talking vehicons from other barracks or squadrons, to gossip about you. They say all sorts of things, ranging from disdain at how Soundwave adopted a pet squishy, to amazement at how talented humans can be, to questions about what they think being a human is like. It's a mixed bag, really, and unless you can learn to tell the vehicons apart from one another, you can't tell what you'll hear when you listen in on some vehicons working on changing the lights in the hall.

Soundwave's become familiar with places you frequently visit around the Nemesis, so it doesn't take too long to find you. Additionally they have access to every surveillance camera aboard the ship as well as a very keen eye, so it really isn't much of a challenge for them. However, if they're too busy then they'll send Lazerbeak to go fetch you for whatever reason they need you.

Your room is located within his habsuite of course, but you're allowed your own privacy, as well as a lot of space to store all of your belongings. And of course since you have different needs than a cybertronian, he'll take time every week in order to accompany you down to some town or city within Earth, or task Lazerbeak to watch after you as you get the necessary things you need like food, water, clothing, etc..

But where would you get the cash for such things? He simply takes it from the rich. The security systems and anti-virus software available on earth technology is considered very rudimentary by Soundwave's standards, so it's not much of an issue for them to develop a malware that slowly trickles money out of some rich person's bank account.

However, if for some reason something were to happen while you were down on earth, you have his personal comm link line. The moment you call that line, he'll either go find you himself or disbatch Lazerbeak to retrieve you if he's unavailable.

[carmenberzattosgf]

Carm helping you study and every time you get a question right you get a “reward”🥵

This has been in my ask box for a month. I deeply apologize anon. BUT ANYWAY YEAH.

You’re over at Carmy’s place. You brought along all the stuff you need to get homework done, but to no avail. No matter how hard you try you can’t focus on your homework assignment.

Instead of your homework, your eyes are focused on Carmy sitting next to you. He’s wearing a tight white tank top that shows off his arm muscles. It’s like he’s trying to distract you.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” Carmy asks. Your staring wasn’t as discreet as you thought.

“It’s hard to stay on task when you’re wearing a shirt like that, Carm. Besides, I already don’t want to do this shit in the first place,” you sigh.

“When’s it due?”

“Uh…” you check the clock on your phone. “Two and a half hours.”

“Dare I ask how much of it is done?”

“Um. None of it? Told you I didn’t want to do it.”

You can tell Carmy’s thinking by the look on his face. Suddenly, his expression turns into a smirk as he widens his leg on the couch. “Come here. Sit on my thigh,” he says, patting the fabric of his jeans. Eagerly you stand up, putting your laptop to the side. You face Carmy, about to straddle his thigh before he stops you. “Ah ah ah. Not so fast. Turn around the other way.”

“Okay…” You listen, turning around to sit on his thigh. As soon as you settle, one of his arms wraps around your waist, holding you in place. His other arm pulls your laptop closer so he can read the questions on the screen. You’re already squirming in his grasp, trying to move your hips against his thigh.

“I need you to stay still and listen to me, got it?”He tenses his thigh, putting pressure against your center.

“Y-yes.” You say, voice laced with need.

“Yes what? Don’t forget your manners.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll listen. Promise.”

“Good girl. This is how this is going to work. You’re going to lean over and type your answers to each question in this word doc you have open. For every question you answer, I’ll let you move your hips just a little bit more.” Carmy presses his lips right behind your ear, before biting down on the lobe. “You understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well then get started.” The idea of a reward gets your mind spinning. Your arms reach over to your laptop to begin typing. Carmen’s arm remains locked firmly around your waist. His mouth presses soft kisses against the back of your neck as you figure out the first answer.

“I finished the first one, s-sir.”

“Good job, sweet girl,” he praises into your ear. “You can start moving those hips for me, now. Nice and slow. Really slow.”

You grind your cunt into his thigh. The movement is slow, but it presses the seam of your pants right into your clit. “Fuck— Carm. Please—“

“Looks like you have…” he leans over your shoulder to look at the computer screen. “Three more questions left. Get back to typing.”

With every question you finish, Carmy guides your hips faster and faster. The kisses he plants on your neck grow to be rougher, nipping and sucking at the skin. You’re in the middle of typing in your as you feel your climax rapidly approach.

“C-Carmen I-I’m about to—“

In an instant Carmy’s arm stops the movement of your hips. “I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I?”

“No sir. You didn’t. I-I’m sorry.”

“Answer the question. You’ve been such a good girl so far, wouldn’t want you to slip up now so close to your reward.”

You type as fast as you possibly can. You don’t care if the answer is right anymore. It doesn’t matter. Once you finish it, you upload the document on your school’s software. “T-there. It’s submitted. I finished it.”

“There we go. I’m proud of you, baby. You got that done in record time despite the circumstances.” He laughs.

“Carmen. Sir— please.”

“What are you saying please for? Good girls use their words. You know that.”

“Need you, Carm. Need you so bad, please.”

“What do you need? Come on. You can tell me.” His mouth bites into the skin of your neck, right above your clavicle. The bruise will be visible for the next few days.

“Your fingers. Please! I need you to touch me.”

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Carmy unbuttons your pants, giving him enough room to slide his hand underneath your underwear. You gasp as his fingers make contact with your silt. “Holy shit— you’re soaked. Did I get you all worked up? Had no idea you needed me this bad. Poor baby. Where do you want me to touch you? You’ve been so good I’ll let you choose.”

“Please. Rub my clit. Need it—“ you don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before two of Carmy’s fingers begin to circle your swollen bud. He’s not gentle, knowing you’re already close. His other hand travels up your body to close around your neck. Carmen applied a gentle, but steady pressure to your neck, making you feel fuzzy.

He can feel you begin to completely relax in his arms. “Atta girl, that’s it. I’ve got you, baby, you can cum for me.”

A choked moan dies out in your throat as you tremble in his arms. Pleasure fogs up your head, coursing through your finger tips. You swear you black out for a moment, coming to with Carmy’s hand no longer around your neck. He’s whispering praises into your ear.

“God. Such a good girl. You were perfect, baby. Did everything I asked you.”

“Holy shit—“ you sigh. “Maybe I should get you help me with my homework every time.”

Carmen laughs at your statement. “I like the sound of that.”

[camberdraws]

I really like your art! Do you have any tips for drawing environments?

Ahhhh thank you so much!

I did some thinking before answering this ask... a lot of general drawing advice absolutely applies to creating backgrounds (such as using references, keeping perspective in mind, etc). But the #1 tool that especially helps me with environments is creating thumbnails!

I depend massively on the thumbnail process, especially for environments. I use them to resolve almost every major detail before painting the real thing! It makes it so much easier to experiment with colors, values, etc. and figure out the important stuff in your image. You want to keep them very blobby and sketchy so you aren't afraid to make big changes!

The thumbnail shown above for my shaymin drawing leaves very few questions about what the final should look like. It only took around an hour to create, and the time it saved me from making any mistakes is massive! This is especially helpful as someone who has immense trouble visualizing color schemes and has struggled numerous times trying to make color work after finishing lineart without a good thumbnail.

The more complex an environment, the more I suggest a thumbnail. Some of my recent zine pieces would have been impossible for me to complete without a detailed sketch to guide me.

Another big piece of advice, mentioned above, is USING REFERENCES! I think this is especially helpful for creating interesting and detailed backgrounds. Doing research on objects/props/scenes will enrich your drawing and make it more engaging to the viewer!

Here is an example of the reference I gathered for my lurantis+gloom drawing. I brainstormed different plants/items I thought would be fun to include with grass-type pokemon, and threw them together in a PureRef file! (I highly recommend using PureRef, it's an excellent software for making reference boards). Generally speaking, it's difficult for humans to conjure up exactly how a watering can/gardening tool/fence/flower might look like down to super specific details, so obtaining reference to fill in those gaps is essential.

Finally, advice that applies very broadly to all types of drawings: do lots of studies! Starting last year I have done 50 environment/scene studies, and they have been extremely helpful for improving my general skill and ability to compose backrounds! I can't recommend this enough to all artists!

And that's about it! I think it's easy for artists to be intimidated by drawing backgrounds, but it can be so much fun! Take it slow, do research, and create thumbnails for your drawing. And don't forget to do studies, they are good for you!

[cindylouwho-2]

The European Union's General Product Safety Regulations (GPSR): A Huge Mess For Some Small & Micro Businesses

Above is an email Amazon sent to sellers many months ago that covers the basics. Not all marketplaces were as forthcoming - or early - with info.

UPDATED: February 25, 2025

As many of you know, new laws coming into effect Friday December 13, 2024 affect businesses' ability to sell products into the European Union and Northern Ireland (EU and NI). The General Product Safety Regulations (GPSR) impose various requirements on most goods being sold to the EU and NI, and some of those new rules will be very onerous for some small businesses. Furthermore, there are still some unanswered questions that the relevant government bodies hadn't covered until the European Commission did release some more details and an FAQ page very recently [pdf for download at the end of the first section on that page], and until public Q & A sessions were held.

This post contains a brief summary of the GPSR and of the key questions for common small business types, with the best answers I can find at this time. There is a section discussing problems on Etsy (which hasn't yet adapted their platform to the new regulations). I also compiled a list of helpful links including government and marketplace information pages, and places to obtain an "EU Responsible Person" to represent your business.

If anything gets clarified in the near future, this post will be updated.

What Does GPSR Require?

The Amazon summary in the screenshot at the top of this post is one of the easiest to understand, but a shorter overview may work better for some, so here is what eBay has to say:

To comply with the GPSR and related regulations, all business sellers listing items for sale in the EU and NI must include the following information: 1. The product manufacturer's name and contact information 2. If the manufacturer isn’t located in the EU or NI, you’ll have to indicate an EU-based Responsible Person or entity, along with their name and contact details 3. Any relevant product information like model number, pictures, and type 4. Product safety and compliance information like warnings and safety information (which can be included in labels and product manuals) in the local language 5. The CE marking when required by the related regulations applicable to your product

And yes, all of this applies to merchants of all stripes, including small and microbusinesses. Per the EU, “...the GPSR obligations apply to businesses of all sizes. Consumers are entitled to only safe products and therefore exceptions cannot be made based on the size of a business.”

Clearly there are significant hurdles for small and micro businesses: the cost of hiring a responsible person, and the cost of producing the required safety and use instructions and of translating them into local languages. Some may choose to stop sales to the EU and NI instead of complying.

Are There Any Exceptions?

Yes, several types of products are excluded, but most of those already subject to equally strict or even stricter regulations, e.g., medicine, foods, animals etc.

The two main known exceptions of interest to most of my readership are:

Antiques, which seem to be limited to items that are old (but no age is given, as far as I can tell) and generally to art or other collectible items.

Items already available for sale before December 13 of this year.

That second point is good news for many businesses, but please note it only seems to apply to stock made before December 13, not just listings made before that date. Once you run out and need to order or make more products, they then become subject to the GPSR.

Does The GPSR Apply To Digital Products?

It now appears that the new regulations cover items such as digital downloads. The FAQ pdf put out by the European Union very recently states "[t]he GPSR applies to all types of products (physical or digital products too, including software) that are placed or made available on the EU Single Market". At least some analysts agree this can include pretty much everything digital:

I can understand why some folks think that a knitting pattern or a simple art downloadable file should not be covered, and in the future once there is more discussion of and action taken under the GPSR, those products might be excluded. But note that the pdf of FAQs also states "[t]he GPSR is about avoiding and preventing “risks to both physical health and mental health”. Including image files and similar downloads therefore makes some sense.

How Do I Find A "Responsible Person" To Represent My Digital Download Business In The EU?

That's a good question, because I haven't found any verified sources saying they will cover digital items, or any digital sellers mentioning they have found coverage. Many have been denied by the companies they have contacted. [UPDATE: A company called EAS has agreed to represent at least one digital seller.]

If you are aware of any other firms or individuals offering "Responsible Person" services for digital products, please let me know!

(Remember, If you are in the EU/NI, you are the Responsible Person. If your products are manufactured in the EU/NI, the manufacturer is the Responsible Person.)

Does the GPSR Apply To Free Products?

Yes. From the FAQ pdf: "an item provided free of charge falls within the scope of the GPSR.”

In addition to complimentary physical items ("free gifts") sent out with orders, this would seem to include free downloads provided on blogs and social media, on a Patreon site, in YouTube descriptions etc. I’ve not seen much discussion on this aspect of the law for some reason.

Items Offered For Sale Before December 13 Are Exempt, But How Would The Government Know When I First Offered The Product Or When It Was Made?

If you had 100 widgets in stock before December 13 and had them listed on a marketplace or website, by law you can continue to sell those widgets to the EU and NI until all 100 are gone. And if you created a digital file and offered it online before December 13, it should be exempt forever, as long as you do not edit the file after December 13.

But proving you had 100 widgets already made, or that you listed a specific product before the law took effect could be difficult, especially for anyone handmaking their own items. If you are going to continue to sell to the EU and NI after December 13, keep careful records of which stock needs labelling, safety information and translations of use instructions.

Online marketplaces could also create problems if they don't display the date an item was first offered for sale, as happens on Etsy, for example. Every time an item renews, the visible date is reset, and it can be difficult to go through spreadsheets looking for the original listing date, and csv files may not be adequate proof under this law (since they can easily be changed after downloading).

Unfortunately, we won't truly know what evidence will be accepted in these circumstances until the authorities start enforcing these regulations, but this will only be a concern for anyone continuing to sell "old stock" into the EU and NI after December 13, so it is far from the largest concern.

The Case of Etsy - Failure To Comply With The GPSR

Unlike some other marketplaces, Etsy was fairly late in warning its sellers that the GPSR affected them, and how Etsy will approach the law. The blog post included the line "[s]hould Etsy receive a notification from an authority that your product is non-compliant, we will take appropriate action, which may include removing your listing and/or suspending your account." So, the stakes are high here - you could lose your Etsy shop if accused of not complying with the GPSR.

There are currently 2 problems for sellers who decide they can't/won't comply with the GPSR and therefore do not want to offer their items to the EU and NI any more:

Shipping to the UK on Etsy includes Northern Ireland, and sellers anywhere within the UK cannot remove the UK from their shipping profiles. That means they are forced to offer their goods to NI even if they don't want to.

Digital products on Etsy are sold to the whole world by default; there is no way to exclude any countries that Etsy allows sales to. That means every digital listing on Etsy is currently offered in the GPSR jurisdictions, regardless of the seller's wishes or compliance.

The GPSR was published on May 10, 2023. That gave everyone 19 months to get their ducks in a row. However, Etsy has so far done nothing to allow UK and digital sellers to remove their listings from being available in the EU and NI. Nothing.

Support has told some sellers that the corporation is working on it, and that UK sellers could just cancel any sales to NI:

However, it is not good enough to refuse to complete orders to the EU and NI. Any item offered for sale in the EU and NI is automatically subject to the GPSR; just allowing someone to check out is a violation, if the listing and product does not meet the law's requirements.

As of December 13, there is still no way to stop selling to Northern Ireland on Etsy if you are a seller in the United Kingdom, and there is no way for a digital product to be excluded from offer in either the EU or NI. Sadly, this means the only way shops can follow the law is to close for the time being, and some are planning on doing that.

Etsy has failed its sellers, and there is no excuse.

UPDATE (February 25, 2025): Etsy has finally Etsy has updated settings for excluding GPSR countries from those you sell to. Change it here under "Choose how you sell to GPSR states".

More changes to come here under the February updates, including fields for safety information and your responsible person.

And probably the biggest news: Etsy is working on vetting companies that will act as a "responsible person" for its sellers - you know, like eBay already did months ago. Still no word on why Etsy was caught unprepared by legislation that was released almost 2 years ago.

UPDATE (April 15, 2025): Etsy has added fields for safety compliance and an EU responsible person, and now warns shops that "If a product is subject to the GPSR but does not meet the requirements, it may be classified as a “dangerous product” by EEA or NI authorities. This may result in enforcement actions, including fines, product bans, or the removal of your products from the marketplace.

Should Etsy receive notification from an authority that your product is non-compliant, we’ll take appropriate action, which may include removing your listing and/or suspending your account."

Resources and Responsible Person Offerings

I've compiled a separate post on my Patreon, listing some of the official legal and government resources on GPSR, as well as rules and Help pages from some major marketplaces and Print on Demand companies, and a short list of places you can hire a "Responsible Person" for your products:

https://www.patreon.com/posts/sources-and-for-117871846

Please let me know if you find any broken links there, or have other resources to add!

This post will be updated as required.

UPDATED: April 15, 2025