#it's easier than revision

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

awdry really did say 'uh-oh, the proles are failing to cut each other down to size 😔. nature is sickening...'

In the Shed [Henry] told Gordon and James about the elephant, and I am sorry to say that instead of laughing and telling him not to be silly, they looked sad and said:

"You poor engine, you have been badly treated."

[lokh]

what do you think toshiro's version of laios would've been like if he was still with the group during the shapeshifter shenanigans

there have been a few speculations in the tag and among the fans and they are all very good SO i am going to take this opportunity to insert a bit of my shipping bias as i like in my interpretation LMAO agdsfgdfgv

i noted that in actuality shuro seems to have a very good grasp on laios' character??? this is most obvious in the manga later on but even seeing how he criticises laios in their fight... iirc nothing he says is actually untrue or wildly exaggerated, and while he does express frustration over something he feels like laios Should have control over (noticing his cues), he is also aware that laios isnt being malicious and that hes Just Like That. what i mean to say is that while i think his version of laios may seem more pushy and in-your-face, i dont think it will be overwhelmingly so. if its post-fight, i think the idea of laios (and marcille) being willing to do anything to get falin back made a big impression on him, as well as the idea that they need to eat and rest in order to succeed in their goals, so those aspects would be prominent in his version. he seems pretty observant, so i think for the most part the physical traits would line up, but i think there would be specific things that stand out to him that would appear strangely striking on his version of laios (like. idk something about his eye colour or the subtle contrast of his armour and chainmail. he seems to have a weird sense of aesthetics if extras are anything to go by lmao). if hed actually been paying attention all those times laios had gone on about what the hell ever, then it might be even MORE hard to tell apart his version since he would also have a good grasp on what laios should know. so either his version of laios is pretty difficult to pick out, OR despite the character being accurate his appearance is too. stylised lmao (exaggerated features or something) OR!! they just get him to pull out his monster gourmet guide thing and are able to tell from there. iirc everyone was surprised at its appearance so its possible toshiro had also never seen it before

IN MY IMAGINARY SHIPPING SCENARIO............ lets say that his laios isnt able to be picked out immediately and that the monster guide thing also doesnt immediately occur to anyone. what the real laios Specifically notices is how close this other laios keeps getting to shuro. and hes like. ??? why is he getting so close to him, theres no way i get that close to him??? but no one else seems to be picking up on it as weird, so hes having a small crisis like do i REALLY get that close to him???? and now that hes on the outside he notices shuro subtly leaning away and he feels both a wave of shame and..... protectiveness??? (JEALOUSY??????) and he immediately steps in and grabs him like Hey!!! cant you see hes uncomfortable???? weve been through this already!!! and like. ok i cant believe im doing this again but i need to separate this into different endings

a) the whump route: i dont think shuro ever envisioned Actually Telling laios about his frustrations outside of being basically cornered into it. has he ever spoken up against what was expected of him?? has he ever been confrontational???? i think part of what held him back from expressing his frustrations, along with the cultural norms, could be fear of what the reaction would be. if he had done the same in any other aspect of his life (his family, his inheritance), i think he would expect disappointment, disapproval, more proof that he doesnt add up to expectation. to be honest i dont think he Truly believes that laios is the type of person to react like this. but it was strong enough to prevent him from acting and i think would be projected onto his image of laios. maybe fake!laios says something dismissive like Well if it really bothered him hed say something right? what, he cant even stand up for himself? cmon, shuro, prove that you cant handle it just like everything else. and thats pretty much the fastest giveaway that it isnt really laios. of course this would be a HUGE tonal departure from what the actual episode/chapter was, so:

b) the dumbass route: both laioses break into fisticuffs, and, yes.... barking. and so they speedrun the entire encounter as the shapeshifters true form appears and, after laios points out that thinking too hard about others versions of you can tear apart groups and peace of mind, they pointedly do not speak of it again. they think about it though. a LOT

c) the normal route: both laioses argue normal like and the group ends up being able to tell them apart because the fake laios goes on a little too long about how theyre all here for falin and everyones like ok its not like he DOESNT love his sister but.......... the rest of the scenario probably goes like canon, though then i would want to see what everyone Else thought of shuro

[funeralprocessor]

I feel like the Primaris should have been the catalyst for like, an imperial civil war. At the very least, much unrest in the house of Guilliman. Their existence, let alone rollout/integration, should have had many chapters absolutely rioting. It should be beyond the pale by several orders of magnitude and be seen as an enormous overreach by the more autonomy loving chapters, a blasphemy by the more orthodox chapters, and an existential threat to chapters with geneseed quirks. Plus anyone with any awareness of the thunder warriors should take one look at them and recognize the writing on the wall. Guilliman should absolutely recognize what they represent, what they imply. Like they're the leading wave of a paradigm shift that doesn't bode well for what came before. And I say this as someone who's not averse to Primaris, I just think they could've, should've, been a waaaay bigger deal. I know they loathe changing the status quo and we're never getting rid of the posterboys but I think we missed out on something interesting.

[cwritesfiction]

I am going to finish this draft. I am going to finish this draft and get input on it before fussing over line-level prose. I am going to finish this draft and stop fussing and here I am, finishing the draft

[squarebracket-trickster]

Maybe I could just [square bracket trick] these revisions and leave them for future me...

Future me is gonna be so mad hehe

[reginrokkr]

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. Vestiges of a quincentennial corruption —signs / symptoms and therapy—.

It is known that corruption makes its way to any creature's being via exposure to the Abyss no matter how brief it may be, its nature of precipitating everything to death permeating their body with symptoms of varying degrees and lengths depending on how swift the pursuit of a cure is.

Signs and symptomatology.

Among the symptoms connected to corruption, the affected individual may experience: warping one's senses, thus reality. It is known that the void energy magnifies one's negative traits and expands them tenfold (someone's sadness can be more than it really is, someone's paranoia will be fed with more reasons to keep it going that are actually nonexistent but in their mind they are existent); visions, dreams and thoughts of those who passed manifested through voices heard by those with a higher sentience to this type of energy; deception of the viewer's sights by presenting an idyllic atmosphere and location that in reality could have them walk in hell without them knowing unless they awaken that awareness in them; organ compromise leading to a faster failure of the same under the exposure of elemental concentration.

When combined with the curse of immortality, one of its prevalent symptoms is the degradation of the individual's physical body through numbness and loss of any skill that requires his body with the passages of time.

Other signs and symptoms not directly attributed to corruption (but equally to the Abyss in a higher or lesser degree) have different ways of manifestation depending if it's:

→ Via direct contact to an external agent like the Tatarigami: the beginning of symptoms starts with overall weakness and dizziness and nose bleeding. Nightmares that give the sign of a bad omen are also part of the symptomatology. As the chaos goes untreated, the host experiences strong headaches, rashes on the skin blood coughs and more frequent nightmares. All these effects are particularly intense when night falls. Lastly, during the last phases of the sickness, hosts experience gruesome hallucinations and they’re able to listen to fallen gods’ whispers until they fall to madness. Failure to treat any of the symptomatology in time can lead to death.

→ Via Delusions: it stands to reason that in order to create weapons of this caliber by using chaos, the amount of chaos infused in these weapons is controlled and aimed for its wielder’s longer lifespan depending on how strong/resistant they are. As such, the symptomatology may be gentler but in essence it will also lead to its host’s death. Given that chaos is all about life consuming, it saps away from people’s vitality which in turn causes an ageing acceleration with the issues that ageing entails. Additionally, chaos feeds more from negative feelings which includes wrath that makes it harder to get out of the vicious cycle Delusion wielders entered. Hosts may experience weakness and coughing alongside side effects byproduct of the deterioration that comes with the fast ageing until they reach their death.

Depending on certain requirements, being touched by the Abyss leads to three conditions said individual may experience: premature death, transcendence (abandoning one's own flesh to become a transcendent being, an abyssal monster) or, in the best of cases, the need to keep oneself on check in order to not aggravate the already existing symptoms.

Therapy.

Human intervention from those who are knowledgeable in the medical field proves to be effective in muting the symptomatology of the corruption if not much time passes between the abyssal exposure and the treatment. Nevertheless, this is a palliative remedy at best: the organs of those who have been touched by corruption are already compromised.

Other methods that are exceedingly harder to be within human reach have proven to hold a higher effectivity in their healing or even purification exist. 1) Ley Lines themselves, due to being carriers of the seven elements that sustain the world (among other elements) and thus extensions of Irminsul, which also holds purification and healing capabilities, count as one of them. The fact that Natlan's weaker Ley Line system caused the same nation to take a bigger grunt because of the Abyss in comparison to other nations suggests their effectiveness in keeping the void at bay. 2) Traveler's purification and lastly, 3) the celestial nails are also known for being effective, too.

Dáinsleif.

In Dain's particular case, the clearest sign he has of corruption is that half of his body has turned black. Furthermore, his continuous exposition to the Abyss in his pursuit to frustrate the Abyss Order's plans —and by extension, his own brother's— in combination to the curse of immortality (potentially of abyssal connection too, despite being inflicted by a god) is enough reason for him to have multiple symptoms.

Lastly, Dain is known for being both corrupted and cursed, which might result in a higher chance at being affected by the aforementioned described symptoms more. Another reason to this cause is his connection to Irminsul for two reasons: 1) aether and void (abyss) when interacting are mutually toxic— given that both of them coexist in Dain's body, there is no denial that they may interact. And 2) the elements and the abyss repel each other, causing yet another negative effect).

Despite being highly susceptible to be in a really bad shape due to the abyssal influence within him, the reality is that he doesn't suffer much from these thanks to his connection to Irminsul. While contradictory all the same due to the toxicity that the interactions between the elements, aether and abyss may bring, he doesn't suffer from physical degradation and his corruption has been at an impasse for the past 500 years.

However, that doesn't mean that he can be careless with emotions running out of control or in his confrontations against the Abyss Order. And while his own symptoms may not be too bad, they are always present. Predominantly, they tend to flare up in moments of emotional vulnerability or if he lingers too much in places that have abyssal presence.

[talentforlying]

tell me why i woke up on the floor of my kitchen just now. what the fuck was i doing when i got home yesterday.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

Took twice the max dose of melatonin before the final revision for tomorrow’s exam, I’m shitting my pants and I genuinely don’t know anything as thoroughly as I should but if I sleep less than 4 hrs before it I just know I’m gonna do even worse somehow

[lilacthebooklover]

when i say that i don't do things by halves, i mean it. exhibit a: the past few months have been spent with my parents reprimanding me for not revising enough for my exams, but now that i've decided to do it, i spend every second i'm at school (from 8am-4:30pm) studying. it's gotten to the point where my mother congratulated me on having lunch today. oh well, gcses only come once. i can have friends next year :)

[not-sure-what-im-feeling]

I hâte révisions 😭😭😭😭

[skhardwarevers1]

me when i rant to my corporate journal (I can’t post it because im afraid the wording will stir up problems centered around misinterpretation of what im trying to say)

[eternal-reverie]

I just woke up, now being noon but the trade off is that I wrote a good chunk of text about my ocs interacting last night after wanting to do that for weeks now.

[reki-of-the-valley]

Summer Time (Family) Madness

Look, I'm very aware that I've been dead recently but I promise, it won't be forever. It's just a slow season year for me, y'know? But hey, after months of not working on this, I hope the rewrite of this chapter will be what does it for me and gets me back into writing!!

First | < Previous | Chapter 3 | Next >

AO3 | Original Chapter 1  | Original Chapter 2 | Original Chapter 3 | Original Chapter 4 | Original Chapter 5 | Original Chapter 6

“What are you doing?”

Langa blinked down at the girl. She looked comfortable, really comfortable. A little too comfortable even with the dark pink face mask that made her look a little bit like an alien and her soft-looking pink pajamas that stood out against Langa’s fading blue blanket. She looked as comfortable as if she were at home. Except she wasn’t. This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her room. This wasn’t her bed. No, this was Langa’s bed, the very bed he had been getting ready for.

 “Just getting ready for bed.”

Emily grinned as she flipped to the side, somehow seeming to get even more comfortable. She nestled her phone next to her, perfectly settled there for her to easily scroll through her typical content: makeup tutorials, hair styling reels, dance videos, and the occasional pretty actor or fictional boy. She had made herself right at home, which could have been a good thing had it not been in Langa’s space.

“That’s my bed.” Langa said, his voice utterly devoid of amusement as he crossed his arms over his chest. “We set up the couch for you until we find you an air mattress or something.”

The phone fell over as the girl flopped onto her back, pulling a pillow into her chest and burying her nose into it. Her voice came out as a muffled whine, sounding more pathetic than ever.

“But the couch is uncomfy!” Pleading brown eyes peered over the pillow in an attempt to make Langa feel bad. “And Auntie Nanako said I can take your bed if you sleep out since you’re gone like half of the week. Probably off cuddling your boyfriend or something.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

The words escaped him before he could even imagine what a response of the sort could entail, and, given the smile on Emily’s face, it had entailed something. She was thinking of something, something that was clearly wrong, but it was something nonetheless. It was something that she was going to hold over his head for as long as she could, that was for sure.

“Whatever you say, but you’re still not denying that you cuddle with him, so…” Langa opened his mouth to object, but no sound came out, leaving Emily with an even wider grin as she shooed him away, the pillow now falling to the ground. “Go! Go sleep with him! Let me get a bit of beauty sleep!”

“I—” Heat spread across Langa’s cheeks, but he was not going to let it leave him tongue-tied. He was not going to let Emily win this battle – not that it was a battle to begin with. “I can’t just show up at his door and expect him to let me in! I don’t live there!”

Emily raised an eyebrow at Langa, an unimpressed look in her eyes. So they both knew that was a lie; Langa had never been the best liar, after all. They both knew that Reki would let him in, no matter the time. And in the worst-case scenario, Langa could just sneak through Reki’s window – which was never locked – but that sounded far too much like some teen drama cliché, and he was not about to become the leading role in Emily’s favorite show.

The girl flopped back down into the nest she had created for herself, repositioning the phone on her left. Her alien face was out of Langa’s sight, but still, she wasn’t gone. Blond locks engulfed the pillow that Langa knew to be perfect for him, leaving him even more annoyed than he had been when he had first walked into his room. But the voice, the squeak of smugness, was his true breaking point.

“Well, off you go!” Emily waved her hand without even bothering to look at Langa. “I have a big day tomorrow, so I would highly enjoy some good ol’ beauty sleep.”

Langa sighed, finally accepting his defeat. Maybe he could sleep on the couch tonight. Or he could tell his mother about his stolen bed. He could probably do something about the situation at hand, but still, Emily had a point. Maybe Reki’s place really was the best option. Or maybe it was just that going to Reki was always his solution and that was why he was mindlessly stuffing stray pieces of clothes into his bag. He was far too used to going to Reki that his body had memorized the routine.

“One of these days, I’m gonna kick you.”

The mutter was mostly for him, but he knew that Emily had heard him. He knew from the fact that she was grinning on her – no, his – pillow, from the fact that her eyes quickly flickered between his face and her phone, from the fact that she was talking, her tone light and mocking.

“Can’t wait to see that day come.” Her snickering was muffled into the pillow, her brown eyes glowing with a burning undercut insult. “Because we both know that it’ll never happen, you klutz. You’ll break your leg trying.”

Langa didn’t bother answering the girl; flipping her off would only fuel her bratty little attitude and would give her a reason to make a scene. The last thing he needed was another excuse for her to come at him. So he simply huffed as he threw his bag over his shoulder and walked out of his room, phone in hand. It was almost unconscious, his fingers gliding over Reki’s name and sending him a text without context.

Finally got kicked out of my own home

Can I crash at yours tonight?

It seemed that Reki was on his phone rather than doing the homework he had promised to do. The answers came back far too quickly, and even if he had claimed he was “just taking a quick break,” Langa knew that was a lie. Not Reki nor Langa acknowledge the homework that would eventually have to be done. Instead, concerned texts buzzed in Langa’s hand, little bubbles appearing and disappearing faster than the best S skater around each corner of the track. And with each text, Langa had to bite his lip, trying his best to keep the laughter locked away. He couldn’t wake his mother up, especially not via the sound of his shoes hitting the floor for the fifth time in an attempt to tie them. Damned bunny ear laces were finally failing him after nearly 15 years of doing it on the daily. Or maybe it was his brain that was failing him, too busy pounding with Reki Reki Reki

What do you mean kicked out?????

Langa???

What happened??

Did your mom find out about S??????

Is she kicking you out because of S???

Because of skateboarding???

Because of all the sneaking out????

Are you being kicked out beCAUSE OF ME?????

LANGAAAAAAAAAA ANSWER MEEEEEE

LANGAAAAAA

LANGAAAAAAAA

Skateboard in one hand, phone in the other, Reki’s words were the only thing that lit up the night and Langa’s smile. A stifled laughter echoed in the streets as Langa hit send and pocketed the phone. Wheels scrapped against the pavement as he pushed forward, thinking of the possible faces Reki might have been making, staring at his phone.

So can I crash at yours?

-----

When Langa had asked if he could crash at Reki’s, he hadn’t meant it literally. But seeing Reki’s face light up as he approached the window, seeing his eyes sparkle under the soft light of his lamp, seeing his whole face light up as soon as he came into view, Langa forgot everything he had practiced in the last year. He had forgotten that his board wouldn’t magically stop when he came close to colliding with something. He forgot that he was the one that had to control his movement. He forgot that the wheels under his feet weren’t fixed to the ground.  Hell, he had even forgotten how to breathe for a moment! But only for a moment, because by the next, he was slipping off his board, the death trap flying across the room and crashing into the wall while his forehead collided with the top of Reki’s window.

Everything had gone hazy from that point on. Langa could hear Reki’s mother shouting from another room, somewhere in the distance, but what she had said, he couldn’t tell. And Reki. He had been right there, right next to Langa, but then he was far, peaking his head out of the door and whisper-shouting an apology. Something about falling off his bed? Langa couldn’t tell what that was about.

“Dude, Langa!” His voice was distant, but his eyes were right there, big with a wild panic. He was right there, but he also seemed so far away which was unfortunate. Langa liked having the boy right next to him. He liked him too much to let him fade out. “Dude, what the hell? Why didn’t you stop?”

Langa grunted, a throbbing pain shooting through his head. Why hadn’t he stopped? That was a good question and Langa didn’t have an answer for it. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t stopped. He was always so good at stopping; it’s how he had made it this far without badly fucking up. But all this thinking, all this searching for an answer, it made his head hurt. Thinking hurt, and Langa just didn’t like doing it.

“Dude,” Reki’s hand was warm against Langa’s cheek. It was so warm and comforting. “Why didn’t you stop?”

Oh, right. “S’cause I like you.”

-----

Langa blinked a few times. It was suddenly a lot darker than he remembered. Sure, it wasn’t early when he had left his place, his mother and the near-entirety of the Kyan family were already fast asleep, but it wasn’t this late. Had he fallen asleep? When had that happened? He remembered getting to Reki’s house, but the rest of the night? Nothing. Blank. Nothing but Reki. Reki…

Instinctively, Langa touched his eyebrow, right where a hot pain had started to form again. The feeling of a bandage under his fingertips had become a familiar one over the last couple of months, but he didn’t remember having one on his face. At least, not recently. He hadn’t had any bad falls in months. The most he would get would be little scraps and cuts on his hands and knees which Reki always insisted on patching up for him. Reki had always fussed over him, Reki who had his arm over him, squirming under his sheets. Next to Langa. Bed. Shit.

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes. His figure was barely distinguishable against the darkness, but Langa had memorized him. He memorized the way his bed hair was always a mess, strands sticking out uncontrollably. He had memorized how Reki always rubbed the sleep out of his right eye. He had memorized everything that was Reki.

“You okay there, dude?”

Reki’s weight was comfortable against Langa’s shoulder. He was warm and soft, almost melting into the boy. And the proximity, it left Langa with an irregular heartbeat, a pounding that echoed in his ears. Could Reki hear it? Could he feel it? There was no way of knowing since there was no way that Langa was going to ask him.

“Yeah, great.”

Langa cringed at the pitchiness of his whisper. Shame coated his squeak, a sound he had never heard come out of his mouth. A sound he had wished had never left his body. Ever.

“You busted your eyebrow.” Reki tentatively covered the yawn that escaped him before moving closer to Langa, if that were even possible. His calloused fingers brushed against Langa’s forehead, sending shivers down his spine. “Blood ‘nd all, then bam! Passed out cold. Patched you up, don’t worry ‘bout it. Even kissed it better!”

Fucked didn’t even begin to describe Langa’s state. From start to finish, he was fucked. Not only had he somehow managed to forget everything Reki had taught him about skating and his special awareness in general, resulting in a split eyebrow thanks to the window, but he had also somehow missed his chance at being conscious as Reki planted a kiss to his wound. That is if Reki actually did do as he said. But knowing Reki and how much he believed in the magic of “kissing it better,” he most probably did kiss his eyebrow, whispering to the wound to heal quickly. And Langa missed it. Langa missed it because of his stupid phobia of his own blood. Just the smell of it was enough to get him to black out, which was what probably happened. Just the idea of his own blood left him feeling dizzy, but not for long. With Reki’s hands on his shoulders, it wasn’t hard to snap back to reality.

“Whoa, dude! Stay with me.” Pretty sounds bubbled out of Reki as he flopped back down onto his mattress. “It was a pain in the ass to haul you up on the bed, and I’m not down to do it all over again. You know,” Langa watches as Reki settled against his pillow, probably trying to find a comfortable position, “you’re a lot heavier than you seem. All skinny and boney but still heavy as hell.”

“I’m,” Langa gulped,” trying his best to extinguish the wildfire that started to spread across his face and ears. A silent prayer left his parted lips, a hope that the darkness would conceal his shameful blush. “I’m not that heavy. And…” And what? What could he possibly say to Reki? What could he say that wouldn’t sound too stupid? “You could’ve left me on the floor or something. Not like I would’ve noticed. I was out cold anyway.”

Reki shifted under the sheets, turning to face Langa as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Nah, I couldn’t just leave you on the floor. You would’ve woken up with a sore neck or something and then you would’ve whined about it all day tomorrow. But it’s late, dude.” He was pretty as he snuggled his pillow, getting ready for bed once more. “C’mere.” His arms opened, as if he were beckoning Langa closer. “Bed’s not big enough for the two of us.”

Reki had to know what he was doing to Langa. He had to be aware of the tightness he was causing in Langa’s chest. And the racing of his heart. He had to know that he was killing him from within with his stupid little grabby hands and his attempts to pull Langa into his arms. He had to be conscious of it all. There was no way he was that oblivious.

Reluctantly – or at least, that was what Langa was trying to go for – Langa settled against the pillows, letting Reki wrap his arms around his shoulders. The scent of Reki filled the air surrounding Langa, sweet orange and a dash of sweat. Reki filled every corner of Langa’s mind as he let himself melt under the other boy’s touch, snuggling closer to his chest.

This is how I die. Or I’m finally going to wake up and this is all just a dream.

Reki shifted against him, somehow cuddling even closer. Langa didn’t know what was more unbearable: being pressed against his best friend’s chest or dreaming of being pressed against Reki, breathing him in, letting him fill Langa’s lungs.

“Oh,” Langa could feel the ride and fall of Reki’s chest as she spoke, more cuddling as he got comfortable. “You said something in English, which, by the way, was really rude! I actually understood you, dude! For once! And I know we’ve said we’re basically the same, but I’ll have you know that I would never crash my head against your window frame! I am the one who taught you how to skate, after all! I’m not useless on a board! But I still don’t get why you didn’t stop.”

Basically the same… what had Langa-?

“Fuck.”

[kaserolly]

Me remembering that I still need to study for the re-examination session (which is in the same week as my bday, but it's ok tho cuz my bday falls on a Sunday) so that I can take the exams I failed this uni year

[queenerdloser]

i submitted to a lit mag where you enter your story & then comment on other submissions and vote on which ones you like best and like... some of these stories are truly Just Stories. i’m not trying to be mean (i also feel like my stories are Just Stories lol) but like... it makes it so impossible to comment on them lol. like. all i can say is that you did write a story. it is very story. nice work. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How lock-in hurts design

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

If you've ever read about design, you've probably encountered the idea of "paving the desire path." A "desire path" is an erosion path created by people departing from the official walkway and taking their own route. The story goes that smart campus planners don't fight the desire paths laid down by students; they pave them, formalizing the route that their constituents have voted for with their feet.

Desire paths aren't always great (Wikipedia notes that "desire paths sometimes cut through sensitive habitats and exclusion zones, threatening wildlife and park security"), but in the context of design, a desire path is a way that users communicate with designers, creating a feedback loop between those two groups. The designers make a product, the users use it in ways that surprise the designer, and the designer integrates all that into a new revision of the product.

This method is widely heralded as a means of "co-innovating" between users and companies. Designers who practice the method are lauded for their humility, their willingness to learn from their users. Tech history is strewn with examples of successful paved desire-paths.

Take John Deere. While today the company is notorious for its war on its customers (via its opposition to right to repair), Deere was once a leader in co-innovation, dispatching roving field engineers to visit farms and learn how farmers had modified their tractors. The best of these modifications would then be worked into the next round of tractor designs, in a virtuous cycle:

https://securityledger.com/2019/03/opinion-my-grandfathers-john-deere-would-support-our-right-to-repair/

But this pattern is even more pronounced in the digital world, because it's much easier to update a digital service than it is to update all the tractors in the field, especially if that service is cloud-based, meaning you can modify the back-end everyone is instantly updated. The most celebrated example of this co-creation is Twitter, whose users created a host of its core features.

Retweets, for example, were a user creation. Users who saw something they liked on the service would type "RT" and paste the text and the link into a new tweet composition window. Same for quote-tweets: users copied the URL for a tweet and pasted it in below their own commentary. Twitter designers observed this user innovation and formalized it, turning it into part of Twitter's core feature-set.

Companies are obsessed with discovering digital desire paths. They pay fortunes for analytics software to produce maps of how their users interact with their services, run focus groups, even embed sneaky screen-recording software into their web-pages:

https://www.wired.com/story/the-dark-side-of-replay-sessions-that-record-your-every-move-online/

This relentless surveillance of users is pursued in the name of making things better for them: let us spy on you and we'll figure out where your pain-points and friction are coming from, and remove those. We all win!

But this impulse is a world apart from the humility and respect implied by co-innovation. The constant, nonconsensual observation of users has more to do with controlling users than learning from them.

That is, after all, the ethos of modern technology: the more control a company can exert over its users ,the more value it can transfer from those users to its shareholders. That's the key to enshittification, the ubiquitous platform decay that has degraded virtually all the technology we use, making it worse every day:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

When you are seeking to control users, the desire paths they create are all too frequently a means to wrestling control back from you. Take advertising: every time a service makes its ads more obnoxious and invasive, it creates an incentive for its users to search for "how do I install an ad-blocker":

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

More than half of all web-users have installed ad-blockers. It's the largest consumer boycott in human history:

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

But zero app users have installed ad-blockers, because reverse-engineering an app requires that you bypass its encryption, triggering liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. This law provides for a $500,000 fine and a 5-year prison sentence for "circumvention" of access controls:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

Beyond that, modifying an app creates liability under copyright, trademark, patent, trade secrets, noncompete, nondisclosure and so on. It's what Jay Freeman calls "felony contempt of business model":

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

This is why services are so horny to drive you to install their app rather using their websites: they are trying to get you to do something that, given your druthers, you would prefer not to do. They want to force you to exit through the gift shop, you want to carve a desire path straight to the parking lot. Apps let them mobilize the law to literally criminalize those desire paths.

An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to block ads in it (or do anything else that wrestles value back from a company). Apps are web-pages where everything not forbidden is mandatory.

Seen in this light, an app is a way to wage war on desire paths, to abandon the cooperative model for co-innovation in favor of the adversarial model of user control and extraction.

Corporate apologists like to claim that the proliferation of apps proves that users like them. Neoliberal economists love the idea that business as usual represents a "revealed preference." This is an intellectually unserious tautology: "you do this, so you must like it":

https://boingboing.net/2024/01/22/hp-ceo-says-customers-are-a-bad-investment-unless-they-can-be-made-to-buy-companys-drm-ink-cartridges.html

Calling an action where no alternatives are permissible a "preference" or a "choice" is a cheap trick – especially when considered against the "preferences" that reveal themselves when a real choice is possible. Take commercial surveillance: when Apple gave Ios users a choice about being spied on – a one-click opt of of app-based surveillance – 96% of users choice no spying:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2021/05/96-of-us-users-opt-out-of-app-tracking-in-ios-14-5-analytics-find/

But then Apple started spying on those very same users that had opted out of spying by Facebook and other Apple competitors:

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

Neoclassical economists aren't just obsessed with revealed preferences – they also love to bandy about the idea of "moral hazard": economic arrangements that tempt people to be dishonest. This is typically applied to the public ("consumers" in the contemptuous parlance of econospeak). But apps are pure moral hazard – for corporations. The ability to prohibit desire paths – and literally imprison rivals who help your users thwart those prohibitions – is too tempting for companies to resist.

The fact that the majority of web users block ads reveals a strong preference for not being spied on ("users just want relevant ads" is such an obvious lie that doesn't merit any serious discussion):

https://www.iccl.ie/news/82-of-the-irish-public-wants-big-techs-toxic-algorithms-switched-off/

Giant companies attained their scale by learning from their users, not by thwarting them. The person using technology always knows something about what they need to do and how they want to do it that the designers can never anticipate. This is especially true of people who are unlike those designers – people who live on the other side of the world, or the other side of the economic divide, or whose bodies don't work the way that the designers' bodies do:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Apps – and other technologies that are locked down so their users can be locked in – are the height of technological arrogance. They embody a belief that users are to be told, not heard. If a user wants to do something that the designer didn't anticipate, that's the user's fault:

https://www.wired.com/2010/06/iphone-4-holding-it-wrong/

Corporate enthusiasm for prohibiting you from reconfiguring the tools you use to suit your needs is a declaration of the end of history. "Sure," John Deere execs say, "we once learned from farmers by observing how they modified their tractors. But today's farmers are so much stupider and we are so much smarter that we have nothing to learn from them anymore."

Spying on your users to control them is a poor substitute asking your users their permission to learn from them. Without technological self-determination, preferences can't be revealed. Without the right to seize the means of computation, the desire paths never emerge, leaving designers in the dark about what users really want.

Our policymakers swear loyalty to "innovation" but when corporations ask for the right to decide who can innovate and how, they fall all over themselves to create laws that let companies punish users for the crime of contempt of business-model.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/24/everything-not-mandatory/#is-prohibited

Image: Belem (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Desire_path_%2819811581366%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en