#checkers cheat program

[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. the husband and his wife

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. ��But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure’?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[transmutationisms]

every automated cheating detection system seems to operate on a principle of flag everything, which de facto means that most instructors just ignore most cheating alerts but essentially always have the power to destroy a student's academic life by accusing them of cheating, w evidence. like even if no one ever accused you to your face, if your exams are getting filmed by those detection software programs & your essays are run thru automatic plagiarism / ai checkers on the reg literally just assume that your shit has been flagged, at least once and probably routinely. functional system

[waywardsou2]

ARTISTS

If your digital art program has a brush that will draw a thing for you (hair texture, rope, chains, checkers ECT) do you use it?

Do you count it as cheating?

Do you see no problem with it?

What is your consensus on using brushes with specific purposes

[iambuggy]

hi can i speak about this as someone who works with college students? most colleges will give you a subscription FOR FREE to microsoft 365 cause colleges are just so 'good and generous' like that

colleges also use AI checkers more and more on written assignments and guess what

now microsoft 365 HAS AI and all your submissions will get flagged for cheating which will get you in some serious academic dishonesty dog water

here is how you turn off copilot for your academic work

In your app (for example, Word), go to File > Options > Copilot.

Clear the Enable Copilot checkbox.

Select OK, and then close and restart the app.

ON MAC BOOKS:

In your app (for example, Word), select the app menu, and then go to Preferences > Authoring and Proofing Tools > Copilot.

Clear the Enable Copilot checkbox.

Close and restart the app.

CHECK YOUR MICROSOFT PROGRAM AND AVOID GETTING YELLED AT BY A PROFESSOR FOR SOMETHING YOU CAN'T CONTROL

if you're subscribed to Microsoft word, you probably received an email recently saying they're upping their prices. Like, a lot. ($9.99/month instead of $6.99)

guess what though? you can log into your account, click Cancel Subscription, and get the option to continue your subscription at the same price WITHOUT their bullshit AI.

That's right, the new, higher price is actually a different subscription that includes AI that everyone is being opted into by force! What a cool and fun product that clearly everyone wants.

you can also choose to buy Word 2024 without AI for a single lump sum that will be yours in perpetuity, with no updates, for one computer.

Check your subscription if you need Word for work! Don't get duped into paying for something you might not even want

[starseedfxofficial]

The Secret Sauce: "Square of 9" Meets Automated Trading Systems Why Most Traders Get It Wrong (And How You Can Avoid It) Picture this: you’ve got all the enthusiasm in the world, but your trades are tanking faster than your New Year’s resolutions. Why? Because you’re not leveraging the insider tools and techniques like the Square of 9 and Automated Trading Systems. These aren’t just buzzwords; they’re the cheat codes to staying ahead of the trading curve. The Square of 9: Not Just a Fancy Name The Square of 9 might sound like a mystical object from a fantasy novel, but in the trading world, it’s a precision tool for predicting market turns. Developed by W.D. Gann, this geometric chart helps traders decode the relationship between price and time. Think of it as your GPS for market trends. Here’s the kicker: most traders overlook its power because they don’t understand it. How It Works: - Determine the Pivot Price: Start with a significant market price (a swing high or low). - Align Price and Time: Use the chart to calculate key resistance and support levels. - Confirm with Market Cycles: Match your predictions with market cycles for better accuracy. Want an easy analogy? It’s like baking—skip a step, and instead of a fluffy cake, you’ve got a hockey puck. Automated Trading Systems: The Wingman You Didn’t Know You Needed Imagine having a trading assistant who never sleeps, doesn’t panic, and follows your strategy to the letter. That’s an Automated Trading System (ATS). These systems execute trades based on pre-set rules, eliminating emotional bias—the bane of most traders. Benefits of ATS: - Speed: Execute trades faster than humanly possible. - Consistency: Stick to your strategy without second-guessing. - Scalability: Manage multiple strategies across different markets simultaneously. But here’s the catch: Garbage in, garbage out. A poorly designed system can drain your account faster than a Friday night Uber binge. Where the Magic Happens: Combining Square of 9 with ATS Think of the Square of 9 as your strategy architect and the ATS as your builder. Together, they’re an unstoppable duo. Here’s how to merge them: - Backtest with Square of 9: Use the chart to identify historical turning points and test your strategy. - Integrate with ATS: Program the system to recognize Square of 9’s support and resistance levels. - Optimize and Iterate: Adjust the parameters based on performance metrics like win rate and drawdown. Case Study: How a Trader Turned $10,000 into $50,000 Take Tom (not his real name). He combined the Square of 9 with an ATS to trade EUR/USD. By identifying key levels and automating his entries and exits, he quintupled his account in under a year. The secret? Discipline, backtesting, and—of course—these two powerhouse tools. Common Pitfalls (And How to Dodge Them) - Over-Optimization: Tweaking your ATS until it only works in backtesting. Solution? Validate on out-of-sample data. - Ignoring Market Conditions: Not every market suits the Square of 9. Use it in trending markets for best results. - Skipping the Learning Curve: Don’t expect instant mastery. Invest time in understanding both tools. Why You Should Care Trading is like chess, not checkers. The Square of 9 and ATS give you the edge to think three moves ahead. Whether you’re a seasoned pro or a newbie, mastering these tools can transform your trading game. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[nerdby]

I uninstalled Facebook and went to work on my Harley Quinn playlist, and I feel so fucking good. I just don't know -- I'm just done. I'm not going to hold back for anyone anymore, and I'm just so fucking glad that I can stay off FB and not argue with people cause like I have like ZERO impulse control. Like I used to be a lot better, but now it's like whenever some rightwing pearlclutching jackass says something stupid I just fly off the fucking handle. And on one hand, I know that's like -- those people should be called the fuck out. On the hand, it makes me sound like a white savior cunt and I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing.

Like, yeah, I'm ignorant about some shit -- I admit it.

I just feel so much better now because on FB you DO have to censor yourself because Zuck is a rightwing jackass and so are his "fact checkers". It's just not fucking worth it anymore.

Also confession time--

I have such a love-hate relationship the Jarley (JokerxHarleyQuinn) pairing. Because like I know -- I FUCKING KNOW -- that they should absolutely NOT be together because the Joker is an abusive dick, and they just bring out the absolute worst in each other. At the same time, though, I find like their whole dynamic and just like toxic romance in general so fascinating to read about. It can also be REALLY cathartic if the book also falls into the feminine rage and/or revenge genre. Like I read Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn recently and you know what

Amazing Amy was batshit but Nick deserved it.

I'm not sorry -- he fucking cheated on her, was emotionally abusive to her, forced her to move somewhere she hated, and ate away at her savings by refusing to get a job in NYC because he had to be a pretentious journalist and by opening a bar where he drank away his own stock with his sister. He. Fucking. Deserved. It.

I was cheering for Amy the whole damn time. God bless Gillian Flynn for giving us some badass lady villains🥰🙏🏻

And before you ask, yes, there are books where Harley takes revenge on the Joker and they are glorious. But um I need to get back to my reading cause I'm doing the (adult) summer reading program at my local library and it ends on September 3rd. And I'm only a book and a half from being done🎉

Here is a deliciously off-kilter Alanis Morrisette song for y'all to enjoy, though.

[lordsothofsithicus]

I am seriously despondent about generative bots because other than canvasing and aggregating listicles so I can begin to learn about something - note I said begin to learn about it, because it's useless for more than collecting introductory ideas about concepts which I then need to study in my own - or generating a template for a rote document which I then correct/ customize to suit my needs... It's useless. It does nothing valuable, its answers are vapid and can't be trusted.

And yet

AND YET

People I respect, people I otherwise admire

Immediately get a rictus grin and say "this will be so useful for workplace efficiency"

Or "this is going to be so useful for students"

How

Fucking HOW

No one has explained to me the actual academic use case for these bots

It remains an educational questing beast, a monster they'll never seem to catch

Meanwhile I have more students every class using it to try to cheat

People say it's hard to detect but you can especially in early college or high school

Here's some tips

A student who's struggling to master comp and has a hard time meeting assignment goals suddenly posts a long error free paragraph, usually more

That paragraph is v-a-g-u-e. It will only address the topic in the most general sense. This is because the bot is skimming multiple sources and tends to do so in the shallowest way. No personal references, no odd asides, nothing super detailed but ALSO nothing not relevant. It will be a dull smile of an assignment.

Then and here's a fun one, run the assignment through Zero GPT and, AND a couple of good plagiarism checkers. ZeroGPT isn't foolproof but it will confirm your assessment.

The plagiarism checkers will sometimes come back hot with multiple sites. A sentence here, a sentence there

Because it's picking up the sites the bot sampled to puke up its answer. Original content my aunt alzina

Seriously this nonsense, these lazy nerds, these pseudo intelligent boors and their thighmaster of a program

I'm normally a marshmallow to students but they need to be cured of chatgpt early and ruthlessly

Also guess what's making a comeback as teachers fight back against this nonsense

The hand written essay

Pick up your #2 pencils kids

[projectcubicle1]

The Dual Impact of AI on Accessible Education: A Look at Positive and Negative Impacts

The Dual Impact of AI on Accessible Education: A Look at Positive and Negative Impacts

AI made an enormous splash on the global community with the release of ChatGPT last November. For the past year, schools and employers alike have been scrambling to figure out how to handle the risk of accepting AI-generated work that has been passed off as the result of human effort. At the same time, schools are also trying to find ways to benefit from the proliferation of affordable and (relatively) high-quality artificial intelligence. Do the pros of artificial intelligence out weigh the cons when it comes to education? In this article, we look at the challenges AI is creating for schools. We also examine some of the ways students and educators can take advantage of artificial intelligence. Read on to learn more!

Negative Impacts

Most of the press around AI in education concerns its negative consequences. Many of these fears are justified— particularly considering how new generative AI is. In this section of the article, we take a close look at what could go wrong with introducing artificial intelligence to students.

AI Makes it Easy to Cheat

The most obvious and highly publicized fear concerning artificial intelligence is that it makes it very easy for students to cheat. Free programs like ChatGPT can generate hundreds of words within seconds. Some AI platforms can even create high-quality citations that mirror AP or other college-approved styles. While AI typically does not produce what your average college professor would consider “A-work,” a student may well decide that they are ok with settling for a slightly lower grade if it means saving themselves four hours in the library.

It’s Easy to Get Falsely Accused of Using AI

Earlier this year a college professor in Texas made national headlines after giving his entire class a failing grade. The reason? He’d used an online checker to test their final assignments for AI-generated content. Every single paper came back positive. Part of the problem is that the professor did not use a conventional approach to checking the work. He input his students’ papers into ChatGPT and asked the program if it had written them. ChatGPT apparently said yes. There are several issues with this— the biggest being that while ChatGPT generates AI text, it was not made to evaluate it. The other problem is deeper and harder to correct. Even programs deliberately designed to detect AI-written content are wildly inaccurate. This creates a two-fold problem. On the one hand, it is very easy to be wrongly accused. On the other hand, it also gives students who wish to cheat plausible deniability if their work is ever called into question.

AI Makes a Ton of Mistakes

It really does. ChatGPT is basically made of the internet. Using it is a little like having a conversation with Google. You will get interesting insights and decent information, but you’ll also come across borderline unhinged nonsense. Students wishing to use AI as a study aid run the risk of getting bad information. It’s also worth pointing out that most generative AI programs do not have access to real-time events. ChatGPT is currently about a year or so behind which leaves it incapable of interpreting or commenting on major world events.

The Good AI Can Do in Education

One thing AI is pretty ok at is helping people brainstorm. You can bounce ideas off a generative AI program and get reasonably well-thought-out replies. AI programs can also point you in the right direction when it comes to conducting further research, going so far as to generate links to high-authority websites in certain cases. AI can also be used as a way to make classroom learning more engaging. Studies show that students focus better when introduced to a wide range of learning tools. Teachers benefit as well—particularly in the form of data interpretation. AI programs make it easier to quickly derive actionable data insights, even when working with larger, obscure number sets. This makes it easier to implement highly targeted education strategies for each student in the room.

How Good is Generative AI?

If you’ve ever played around with a free service like ChatGPT your first thought was probably, “Hmm. That’s pretty good.” Your second thought was most likely, “But not really good enough.” Many equate generative AI in its current form as being the equivalent of speaking with someone of slightly below-average intelligence. That fact sometimes gets obscured by the fact that the scope of its “knowledge” (so to speak) is so large. It can conjure paragraphs about thousands of different topics. However, if you start discussing a topic you know a lot about with a generative AI program, you will quickly discover that the depth of its understanding is actually very limited. As a novelty technology, that is fine. As an educational tool, it isn’t. No one really knows where AI is headed or how society should respond to it. This uncertainty is a source of significant discomfort for many— particularly those who feel that their livelihoods are under threat. All of that uncertainty is also bleeding into education in a way that is hard to act on. Most schools do have policies against AI-generated classwork. However, as previously stated, it is hard to prove that text was written by AI. Even using artificial intelligence as a research tool or study companion is questionable at this early stage. As the technology improves and expands that might change. For now, it seems best for schools and students to keep artificial intelligence at arm’s length.

Conclusion

Ultimately, the pros and cons of artificial intelligence are beside the point. AI is here and it isn’t going away. Schools should focus on channeling it productively the same way many hospitals and businesses are. As mentioned earlier, data processing is possibly the most valuable way to use AI in an academic setting. Hospitals are already observing this as informatics nurses use AI-powered technology to get highly tailored insights into local health issues. Educators may be able to take a similar approach toward identifying community-specific barriers to learning. Innovation always comes with pros and cons but history is ultimately made by people who figure out how to make new technology work for them. Read the full article

[molecularhomosexual]

wanted to add some thoughts on this thread. i've seen a lot of responses from professors and educators who care quite a bit for their students and create space for them to be able to put effort toward understanding things--and this latter perspective synergizes with being against using AI for essays at school. i wanted to add some more thoughts onto this with the context of: getting to work in teaching and learning shops at universities, i've found a huge variance between the care and patience that professors have for their students with essay-style assignments.

higher ed seems to be becoming quite interested in checking for ai-based plagiarism in essays (might be happening in k12 spaces too, i'm just not familiar with it as much). turnitin, the company that does the whole plagiarism checking software for schools and colleges, now has an ai detection tool that clients can purchase (that also, in our testing, pulls up far more false positives and false negatives than what they advertise to clients). the company always publicly claims that the turnitin similarity checker (this is the main "plagiarism detection" tool) is not exactly a watertight tool, it is a tool that can help with starting conversations about academic integrity with students, and it needs to be paired with instructor expertise on the topic. this ends up conflicting with a common-enough attitude among some faculty that turnitin is getting a perfect match on whether a student has plagiarized or not. combine this move in higher ed with:

depending on how a course is run, the fact of activities being graded in those courses can add a great deal of pressure on students that may not be conducive to learning. i think Jesse Stommel has some compelling stuff to say here through his concept of ungrading: he notes how grading systems have become increasingly comparative and numerical over time, he notes that grades in and of themselves aren't great incentives for learning or the best indicators of feedback in learning, grade-based education tends to favor (or at least be more amenable to) the banking model of education over critical pedagogy--and he backs this up with in-class experiments and experience. i've noticed that creative writing programs have often been at the forefront of finding alternatives to grading systems that are more supportive for their students (Asao Inoue talks about labor-based grading contracts as more equitable than grading systems that connect grades to an evaluation of quality, though I do think even this system could cut out the grading component altogether and still retain its interventional value).

these two points can lead to the following: students often have to do two tasks in an essay being graded: a) write an essay in and of itself, with its intent of critical thinking, effort, analysis; and b) get a good grade, because regardless of the actual material efficacy of grades in getting future work outside of the university (this will cash out differently sometimes based on the field you're working in as well), there will be students who feel a pressure to get good grades (for a variety of reasons). multiply one essay in a course with taking 4 or 5 more classes (common in undergrad) and working a job at the same time (common at my alma mater at the very least), and we're creating a recipe for students to feel absolutely unsupported in the academic environment to actually work on practicing analysis without additional outside pressure.

i think the current conditions across a lot of academia help create conditions for students to use cheating as a strategy to get a better grade: "i can either put all the extra work in to doing this right and possibly get a bad grade anyway, depending on how my professor is deciding to grade the quality of essays; or given that i have a shift to run to after this and family to take care of at home, i can see if there's a quicker solution to take, even if that could also have a risk of ruining my grade. what's worth it, to me?" and in response to this, academic integrity offices will start wondering how to discourage students from cheating, and in happy and hawkish response, academic integrity software companies can get new product contracts on their ai detection tools, that instructors, in their variance of usage of plagiarism tools, can use to either have conversations with students about work in the best case scenario, or punish students through grading them poorly in the worst.

i dunno. i am a philosopher at the end of the day--in my experience with the kind of writing philosophy demands, i don't think that AI writing passes muster in the first place (i imagine this is the case with... most any field that involves any amount of creative writing). but i just want to keep in mind that in my experience working at the university space, for every professor who is genuinely interested in their students' learning and who does everything within their capacity to set them up for success, there is a professor who, regardless of interest, generates a great deal of distress for their students by dispensing with punitive measures in the learning space.

i think that this is likely a reason why some teaching and learning shops have tended to build guidelines for how to use or discuss AI writing with students instead of recommending faculty to discourage its use by students altogether: even though i think a shop should ideally be able to recommend the latter, that doesn't do a lot for the reactionary portion of a faculty community who will consider the shop backwards for making such a recommendation, then continue on with teaching practices that are harmful to students' learning and well-being. (i think the defensive position also comes from not having any deciding power over the business contracts for AI software happening with leadership doing kingdom-building far away from the rest of us [unionize, anyone?], where if there's an evaluation that there's nothing the institution can do to prevent AI usage, then it makes sense to have a damage mitigation strategy to do the least harm to students as possible).

i would have been lucky to have any of the teachers on this thread as my own when i was going through undergrad. unfortunately, what i faced far more were instructors who didn't care very much--either from being tenure-track researchers who weren't particularly committed to teaching, or from (understandably) reacting against being overworked adjunct lecturers who didn't have the capacity to care as much as they should have. what i faced in undergrad quite a bit, barring some notable exceptions here and there, were instructors who didn't care anyway whether i could think critically about something or put effort into writing about a certain perspective. what i faced in undergrad, primarily so, were instructors who were just checking if i could say the correct thing back to them in the correct way--and instructors who would punish me or my peers for failing to do this, no matter how much work they put into an assignment.

if universities as an institution want students to not use AI for essays (something that i'm generally aligned with), they need to give adequate resources to faculty and students alike to be able to focus on essays without fear of academic punishment and without generated lack of capacity from overwork. (but of course, universities is an abstraction here--faculty/staff unions and student worker unions do push for those resources, because university leadership isn't otherwise interested in granting them, because it's not particularly profitable to care about the conditions of learning.)

[vampire-the-masquerade---4l]

How to mod and/or change costumes?.?.? :: Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines Genel Tartışmalar

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥 Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines. I have a skin mod that tells you to simply drop its 'materials and models' folders into the vampire folder in game files. That is stupidly simple.. I mean theres no way on this earth Iv done ti wrong So what this tells me is its doing something but not doing its full job. Anyway Iv used a cupple differant mods all with the same result doing the described instal. With one exeption being a mod that required a folder that isnt there. I did do steam file check to make sure it didnt get lost or somethign but game runs and steam found nothign so.. So if anyone knows how this is realy suposed to work some help would be awsome. I dont mind cheating for the costums but I play I suck with names I play one of the two social clans and I would more like to use the malkavian skins. Just wondering if theres a way to attatch the malkavian costum tables to the other races. Note: I dont mind alt game files but dont have any spcl programs for editting spcl files like. Hope you can helps, thx for reading. The pink and black checkers means you're missing textures for the model. Easiest thing to do is dig deeper into the mod's files and find the materials folder. Inside that should be another folder called models. Inside that should be character, then pc, then male or female depending on the mod. Then inside the mod's folder should be another separate mod called models NOT the one inside materials. That's why it's never good to just drag and drop like that. If whoever made the mod didn't make the folders right, your mod's files aren't going to go where they need to be. Model swapping the good old fashioned way from the Mod Dev Guide. Note: you may or may not have to re-name all four original model files. If you need a set of raw model files, I have some that are already extracted. This is hands down the most common scenario and the most commonly asked question on the forums. Player models are "special" because you can wear 4 different sets of armor throughout the game. So, in order to replace the Brujah with a different model, you must clobber not one, but all four of these model files and their support files. Other models may look cool, but they can't execute the skelton animations thus preventing you from attacking, jumping, running, etc En son R. I realy appreciate you getting back to me but something is off here. These are the only things listed under vampire folder in VtM:B. Then theres 2 readme files read and a vidcfg. Oh and one hl2. I have no blocked or hidden file settings on and have dubble checked that. Note: Game runs fine without mods so I dont know what I could be missing. If said modded files overwrote anything that you failed to back-up which should always be done I suppose you could verify the cache again if you have not applied an unofficial patch, or if it's just a skin for the character, I already have most all of that stuff extracted from vanilla. Almost everything that the game needs so to speak is packed up in the. I believe part of its named after the creator username 'REDJeanette'. Not inside the armor folders theres a 5th item thats a. The materials file and the models file are part of the mod and where not in game files befor I added them. This is all part of a mod built to use custom models for the 'toreador' clan. Found out that mod was packed wrong and how to renaim given folder to make it work. Alls good thx for posting guys. İleti: 7.

[hidheim]

just found your blog and LOVE all your art!!!! the Matt and Gus art is especially cool I love the colors and poses you use.

Thank you kindly! It's heartwarming that you find palettes and poses so enjoyable.

And... I will use your message as a reason to ramble for a while about the latter because some may find it interesting. But, also, that's just something that I would REALLY like to know about many years ago. Plus, it made me think about composing and stuff. Plus, it's important to reflect a little. Plus it hit me hard because I hated it. Ready. Set. Go.

Posing is tedious for me, so I often turn to composite some elements in 3d early on. The thing is: it's way easier for me to sketch a character or a background when I have even the most primitive blockout in 3d. Basic blockout and 3d grid that comes along with it. It's a package.

Happily, I haven't deleted some of my files, so I can further elaborate.

My first case in point is a Day 5 scene.

As usual, I have a vague idea of what I would like to make. I sketch it:

Then I use this... caveman of a sketch as a reference point when working in software. I'm familiar with 3ds Max, SketchUp, Maya, but the recent version of Blender is wonderful for modeling, so I'm happy to use it and preach about it. So this pic and every other comes from Blender 2.83 specifically:

It looks like a rat's ass. It's not even rendered; it's a goddam print screen, which is what makes it hilarious and practical. So besides the object itself (initially a coffin), the 3D grid makes things turn. For the better. Because it makes me think about perspective and funny ways to skew things, find nice angles, and play with them. The blockout also makes you question the initial idea and ways to enhance it. And when I find a fairly nice angle, I create a Camera to 'save the view' (so I can later come back to it) and PrtScn to get the image to .psd file:

Wow. Messy.

And on that PrtScn, I sketch things, rotate stuff (again, angle changed) characters, background elements, effects, everything. My point is, this stage of wrapping things up is way nicer&faster because I have a grid and object somewhere in the background to keep me in check. The later stages are just... drawing stuff.

And the second case in point:

This shot.

Again, primitive as hell, but it works for me. Thanks to that, I can pose characters somewhat in relation to the shot, not ideally (I can pinpoint mistakes on two hands and few others), but uh, it's... okay.

So, that's my babbling about how posing works for me. I used the same method on days 2 and 3 (I can't draw stars. At all. So I have to model them X'D).

Again, initial sketch and modeled shaft with instructions.

It all may seem like taking too many extra steps. Turning to a completely different program and 'vaguely doing stuff in there' and then going back, isn't it a bit messy? Well, for some, yeah; for folks like me is reasonable and even necessary to create this fact-checker.

Well, I remember that at some point, I was very reluctant to use 3D software as a 'walking stick,' to the point I even considered it 'cheating.' Silly *bonk*. I call BS on myself. During internship, I remember seeing illustrators working on blockouts made specifically for them by 3d generalists. It's standard practice, makes things faster, better, and easier. 'Play smart not hard' as someone posted on Twitter a few days ago about gustholomule tags #. I couldn't agree more. I believe this rule also applies to more than one area of life.

Holy cow, that. is. lengthy.

Well, let's hope that my English is readable enough, perks of not being a native.

BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[thevictoriousone]

Hmm I’ve been out of teaching (high school English) too long for me to have enough familiarity to say this is true of AI overall BUT

I always found that students who cheated on essays - however they chose to do that - would have gotten a bad grade on the essay even if I hadn’t ever caught the cheating.

I have a hard time thinking that AI is adequately answering the essay prompt with the thoughtfulness and detail expected of a college level student so that it would actually make a good grade on the assignment if being checked by a human against a rubric.

Not to say it wouldn’t read like a human wrote it, but just that it wouldn’t be a good essay *for the specific assignment.*

Will some get through and people get grades for essays they had an AI write? Yeah sure that’s always going to happen. In the same way that I know I didn’t catch every case of plagiarism that passed through my hands. Or didn’t catch every time a parent wrote the essay for the kid (that happened at least once that I caught and the parent still failed - they were so mad), or every case of cheating/copying. It’s never going to be a 100% flawless system.

In general I’m fine with using a plagiarism checker for papers - which I would then follow up on myself to make sure it was actually plagiarism, find the source material copied from, etc. before penalizing the student. But if I were teaching today I don’t think I’d be comfortable with a program telling me something is AI. That feels rife with exactly the issues people have mentioned above. And again, I have a hard time believing the assignment will be completed to my specifications and rubric if it’s written by AI. I’m sure that gets harder to use as a benchmark the higher up in academia you go but especially for lower level college courses, we were given specific prompts or specific texts that we’d usually discussed in class, etc.

Perhaps I’m just naive, but at least I’ve never been in danger of falsely accusing one of my students of academic dishonesty.

I hate so much that professors who still can't figure out how to send messages on Zoom think they're capable of spotting AI writing. Professors are just feeding essays into AI detectors with massive fail rates with absolutely zero critical thought about the tools they're using. I moved across state lines. I've spent years of my life trying to get this degree. But at any moment I could be expelled because I got a false positive from a detector that tells you ChatGPT wrote Anna Karenina.