#you know the one in the data of the universe?

[dduane]

We’ve been over this before

Folks, please pay attention to this.

Do not send me (in my inbox, or via message, or anywhere else) suggestions for things you’d like me to write. No matter how vague and nonspecific you think they are. By doing so, you are guaranteeing that they will never happen.

Such suggestions, even in the inbox, leave an electronic “paper trail” that the platform is required to preserve. People bent on making legal trouble for a writer can subpoena a platform for such data as proof that you got your idea from somebody else (like them) even if you genuinely previously came up with it by yourself.

“Oh, come on, who’d do a thing like that, what are the odds…?” people will say. But it’s not generally known that I’ve already been involved in a high-stakes lawsuit in which someone tried to sue Mattel over material I wrote when developing the initial form of the “Barbie: Fairytopia” universe (and the first Fairytopia film) for them. I’d never so much as met or communicated with the person suing them, had never read even a word of their work… but they still went to great trouble and expense attempting to prove that I’d had access to their material and used it without permission. 

Mattel won the suit—as I’d frankly been expecting: the attorney handling their defense was one of the most expert IP lawyers in the US. But it gave me the chills… and made it clear how very wrong things could go, and the kind of damage that could be done to my career and my personal life, if I even accidentally used ideas from unauthorized sources. 

Seriously, folks. I know you mean well! But please don’t make me tap the sign. 

I already have a list of things that can never happen. It’s already too damn long. Don’t make it longer.

DO NOT SEND ME STORY IDEAS (or “prompts” or anything of the kind) no matter how general or conjectural or unformed they may seem to you. To do so is to guarantee that they will never, ever happen. 

And in my own universes, your innocently-meant suggestion could mean that neither you or anyone else will ever see that particular Young Wizards or Middle Kingdoms plot, no matter how much you’d like to… because I take this stuff seriously.

Okay?

Thanks.

[superconductivebean]

#1142: ranty ranty

i've the weirdest reason to like hl: late 19 century means beаuxbatons had plenty of people from the russiаn empire and if you're aiming to create the tournament you'll basically have a rundown on the differences between the english, the--

uh huh huh

The Greatest Storyteller Of The MillenniaTM made it harder to write about other schools for magic because you just explain to me what should a person think of the entire CONTINENT to give europe only 2 schools for magic? just imagine beаuxbatons in the beginning of the 19th century or in the middle of the century. throw in koldоtvoretz and have your hair falling off your head because this lump of land has always been roughly 7000 kms in length from west to east; yet it has 1 (ONE) school for magic. durmstrаng is a private school and should had been The North (or Germany?) except Bulgaria is Greece's next door neighbour. honestly I WANT TO SCREAM and so here is my hot take opinion on it all: hp is such a western gaze if u ask me

[mail-me-a-snail]

silvervance on the brain again someone absolutely should've stopped me from listening to sleep token before bed

[localwebslingers]

If the Raft was supposed to be anything like the Vault back home, Peter couldn't say he didn't understand why the laptop was sacrificed the way it was. Not that it probably deserved it, he was personally suspecting something involving an explosive, but the measure was at least understandable. He wondered what kind of security precautions were in place for the screens and data now that was keeping them from winding up the same way. A hum was offered instead at Harry's tease as Peter smiled slightly, "We worked out our differences and came to a truce. Which is that you still deserve to have coffee." especially when it was first thing in the morning or when the lab was involved.

He'd barely had a chance to take a sip from his own mug before the focus in the room shifted. Not quite instantly but quick enough it may as well have been and Peter's attention went to Harry and the screens he was pulling up. Taking in the descriptions of what all three were and looking them over carefully. Comparing. Not just the differences and similarities between the two serums themselves, but also the genomes mapped out alongside them. Already nodding as he picked out a few differences in Harry's own compared between before and after the serum's effects, "The treatments were targetting something tied to your genetics themselves so it makes sense that there'd be some change after a while." even more so when the treatments were experimental and over the scope of years.

Though just going by how Harry acted compared to some of them from back in his universe, Peter was more than comfortable saying that his side effects were still the more stable of the ones possible.

As more of the information as covered, Peter was drinking from his mug less and paying attention more, jumping in with questions as he had them but was following along just fine. For better or worse, the effects of genetic experiments or alterations was something he was more and more familiar with from the usual guys he'd come across. Not to mention his dad's research and what happened to himself with the spider bite. There was still a lot to take in, and he didn't know how long he was there next to Harry going over it all but at some point he realized his coffee was more lukewarm than hot. Barely, like an afterthought, he was still more focused on the tables and formulas he was being walked through than anything else. A fresh pot could be made later if it was need.

When there was finally a stop in it all, Peter shook his head slightly, still looking over the screen, "Have I told you yet today just how incredibly, amazingly brilliant you are? Because maybe it's a little morally questionable and should never go anywhere near the general public, sure, but...it's still incredible that you did this." and desperate, as was seeming to be an unfortunate theme when it came to the Goblin, but that didn't make the fact that it had happened and worked as well as it did any less impressive.

|| @inhcritance ||

An amused but curious look leveled at him, and Harry let out a noncommittal hum, playful enough, before deciding to go with the truth, after a moment, tone turning a bit more serious.

"It was evidence." He told Peter. "It was proof that I was the Green Goblin, and there was likely enough to get me sent to the Raft at the very least. So it had to go."

Making sure it could never be found, much less get data recovered, had been quite an exercise in caution, but a necessary one.

And then Peter was on his way to get coffee for them, and Harry began to open some of the most delicate and hidden files he had, files he knew exactly where they were because he did work on them relatively often, and had studied extensively, but also kept as hidden as possible as a matter of general paranoia.

A moment later, when Peter brought the mugs, Harry offered him a soft, grateful smile.

"Thanks." He told him, warming his hands on the mug for a moment before before being unable to hold back the teasing, just after giving Peter a quick peck to the cheek. "I'm glad you and the coffee maker are friends already."

He turned towards the screens a moment later, however, and laid out two different representations of several formulas, and then three DNA displays.

"Let's start at the beginning." He settled on. "That's the formula for the Lizard Serum, and that's the formula for the most recent iteration of the Goblin Serum." He explained. "Then we have a typical human genome, my genome without the serum, and after it. You can see that a decade of experimental treatments has... caused some... differences."

And being clinical and detached was the only way he could talk about it, these days. Because it was not too bad, it was functional, he was alive and getting better... but it was very far from ideal.

And then he went back to the Lizard Serum. Step by step, from Connors' discoveries to his own, to his experiences and investigations, and what he'd figured out over all the time he'd been working on the Goblin Serum.

@localwebslingers

[tevatron]

i'm so glad i won't be working with my pi after this month. i think i've reached my limit. i just can't deal with her anymore

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 22

"And So It Goes” Billy Joel cover by Jennifer Warnes

[aeide-thea]

the thing abt this website (and probably other websites as well) is that like. posters will complain that readers get mad at posts for not encompassing Everyone's Experiences, when they were just talking about their own experiences

and it's like. okay but did you phrase your post in the universalizing second person or.

cue janet-with-cactus gifset.

[canichangemyblogname]

I first want people to note the date of the article and the original post: 2022. Hindsight tells me, studies can only do so much in the face of bigotry; there is a lot of on-the-ground and legal work that must be done (by us queer people, of course, as who else is up to the task).

Yahoo is a fairly mainstream news site. Most of the users and readers are going to be your average, run-of-the-mill person. It’s not mumsnet or any of those forums that disproportionately attract transphobes. However, this Yahoo comment section is overrun by bigots telling us exactly this: it doesn’t matter what a study says, I won’t change my mind.

The comments section is full of people who love Littman’s work; it is full of people who believe in ROGD. (And— of course— none of them stop to consider the misogyny at the foundation of ROGD: the idea that teen girls are very, if not uniquely, susceptible to hysteria.) “Young minds are susceptible to peer influence and internet trends.” They fully believe this study is junk science and that doctors and teachers are out here to “butcher” and “mutilate” and “brainwash” all our children. One user went as far as to compare pediatricians to the Nazi doctors of Auschwitz.

The comments section is split between them and people arguing that parents need to teach their kids “reality” because kids aren’t mature enough to understand themselves, and are easily manipulated (oft by the predatory LGBT adults, as no child would ever think about crushes or their place in this world without an outside influence “filling” their head with sex). They hold that the social pressure to be queer is what’s driving them to suicide and is what’s behind the rise in depression and anxiety among our youth.

The comments section shows a lot of what is wrong with our culture and society. In the commenter’s world, children are not entitled to bodily autonomy and they do not possess personhood or minds capable of reasoning, rationale, or of perceiving themselves. Children do not have rights (someone literally said this). And experts? They’re never to be trusted. They have devious agendas and secret plans to (destroy the Aryan race) queer your children and cripple their bodies. (Lots of ableism baked into these anti-trans arguments.)

There are a couple of comment-types I’d like to highlight for those who have yet to understand how important solidarity is for progress:

The first vein of commenters are those who believe that young girls thinking they’re a lesbian or bi— or that being LGB at all— is a social contagion. These commenters believe that it’s either “just a phase” or influence from adults, because heterosexuality is what’s “normal” (where homosexuality and “transgenderism” are defective, and unnatural).

The second vein of commenters are those who believe this “issue” stems from a weakened patriarchy and a loss of traditional family & religious dynamics and values. Queerness is a result of children not having a firm patriarchal hand or “masculine force” in their life (lots of low T comments). Queerness is an affront to god and people’s usual way of life.

Bonus personal favorite to roll my eyes at:

This is a reminder that these are the “leopards,” and that their political figures’ hack apart communities to weaken a community’s organizing power, often capitalizing on unlearned biases and existing schisms in a community to be successful.

It’s on us to unlearn and combat harmful ideas, from transphobia to lesbophobia to misogyny to white supremacy & racism (there was a fuck ton of racism in those comments, too) so this cannot work. So many of us have yet to fully understand what “community” really means, and it’s going to take a community to leave behind a better world for queer children.

[communistkenobi]

(taken from a post about AI)

speaking as someone who has had to grade virtually every kind of undergraduate assignment you can think of for the past six years (essays, labs, multiple choice tests, oral presentations, class participation, quizzes, field work assignments, etc), it is wild how out-of-touch-with-reality people’s perceptions of university grading schemes are. they are a mass standardised measurement used to prove the legitimacy of your degree, not how much you’ve learned. Those things aren’t completely unrelated to one another of course, but they are very different targets to meet. It is standard practice for professors to have a very clear idea of what the grade distribution for their classes are before each semester begins, and tenure-track assessments (at least some of the ones I’ve seen) are partially judged on a professors classes’ grade distributions - handing out too many A’s is considered a bad thing because it inflates student GPAs relative to other departments, faculties, and universities, and makes classes “too easy,” ie, reduces the legitimate of the degree they earn. I have been instructed many times by professors to grade easier or harder throughout the term to meet those target averages, because those targets are the expected distribution of grades in a standardised educational setting. It is standard practice for teaching assistants to report their grade averages to one another to make sure grade distributions are consistent. there’s a reason profs sometimes curve grades if the class tanks an assignment or test, and it’s generally not because they’re being nice!

this is why AI and chatgpt so quickly expanded into academia - it’s not because this new generation is the laziest, stupidest, most illiterate batch of teenagers the world has ever seen (what an original observation you’ve made there!), it’s because education has a mass standard data format that is very easily replicable by programs trained on, yanno, large volumes of data. And sure the essays generated by chatgpt are vacuous, uncompelling, and full of factual errors, but again, speaking as someone who has graded thousands of essays written by undergrads, that’s not exactly a new phenomenon lol

I think if you want to be productively angry at ChatGPT/AI usage in academia (I saw a recent post complaining that people were using it to write emails of all things, as if emails are some sacred form of communication), your anger needs to be directed at how easily automated many undergraduate assignments are. Or maybe your professors calculating in advance that the class average will be 72% is the single best way to run a university! Who knows. But part of the emotional stakes in this that I think are hard for people to admit to, much less let go of, is that AI reveals how rote, meaningless, and silly a lot of university education is - you are not a special little genius who is better than everyone else for having a Bachelor’s degree, you have succeeded in moving through standardised post-secondary education. This is part of the reason why disabled people are systematically barred from education, because disability accommodations require a break from this standardised format, and that means disabled people are framed as lazy cheaters who “get more time and help than everyone else.” If an AI can spit out a C+ undergraduate essay, that of course threatens your sense of superiority, and we can’t have that, can we?

[oflgtfol]

now that im no longer in college im finding the best way to like reconnect with my love for astronomy and also come to a deeper understanding of it on like a human personal level is to like actually go out and observe the sky and like reinvent the way ancient peoples did astronomy via like. timekeeping with the constellations, finding the ecliptic and equator in the sky, etc. basically just trying to build like an actual bodily intuition around the night sky that no one really has anymore, and that I Certainly Didn’t since my own knowledge was like math paper and computer based. Now my next challenge is to try to find my latitude based on the position of the sun

[abbiistabbii]

I don't think people realize how absolutely wild Linux is.

Here we have an Operating system that now has 100 different varieties, all of them with their own little features and markets that are also so customizable that you can literally choose what desktop environment you want. Alongside that it is the OS of choice for Supercomputers, most Web servers, and even tiny little toy computers that hackers and gadget makers use. It is the Operating System running on most of the world's smartphones. That's right. Android is a version of Linux.

It can run on literally anything up to and including a potato, and as of now desktop Linux Distros like Ubuntu and Mint are so easily to use and user friendly that technological novices can use them. This Operating system has had App stores since the 90s.

Oh, and what's more, this operating system was fuckin' built by volunteers and users alongside businesses and universities because they needed an all purpose operating system so they built one themselves and released it for free. If you know how to, you can add to this.

Oh, and it's founder wasn't some corporate hotshot. It's an introverted Swedish-speaking Finn who, while he was a student, started making his own Operating system after playing around with someone else's OS. He was going to call it Freax but the guy he got server space from named the folder of his project "Linux" (Linus Unix) and the name stuck. He operates this project from his Home office which is painted in a colour used in asylums. Man's so fucking introverted he developed the world's biggest code repo, Git, so he didn't have to deal with drama and email.

Steam adopted it meaning a LOT of games now natively run in Linux and what cannot be run natively can be adapted to run. It's now the OS used on their consoles (Steam Deck) and to this, a lot of people have found games run better on Linux than on Windows. More computers run Steam on Linux than MacOS.

On top of that the Arctic World Archive (basically the Svalbard Seed bank, but for Data) have this OS saved in their databanks so if the world ends the survivors are going to be using it.

On top of this? It's Free! No "Freemium" bullshit, no "pay to unlock" shit, no licenses, no tracking or data harvesting. If you have an old laptop that still works and a 16GB USB drive, you can go get it and install it and have a functioning computer because it uses less fucking resources than Windows. Got a shit PC? Linux Mint XFCE or Xubuntu is lightweight af. This shit is stopping eWaste.

What's more, it doesn't even scrimp on style. KDE, XFCE, Gnome, Cinnamon, all look pretty and are functional and there's even a load of people who try make their installs look pretty AF as a hobby called "ricing" with a subreddit (/r/unixporn) dedicated to it.

Linux is fucking wild.

[syrinq]

thinking about the fact that i do like forgotton realms-adjecent (fantasy equivalent of star wars-sized ip) games but then i have to grab a broom and hit anyone appearing out of the shadows who goes "now play dnd (or any ttrpg) with me" extremely violently so they remain in the dark for another 5 million years

[0o-junebug-o0]

First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking him things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of his time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and mouth something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand for his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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[fingertipsmp3]

I may not be showing it 💯 but being bullied in high school made me a bitter little person

[cherryredstars]

Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2 Part 3

[lodgersims]

As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.

There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.

Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.

I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."

And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.

And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.

The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.

And she was never meant to.