#make 100 dollars per day

[myhyperfixationisback]

hey. what the fuck is up with Ratchet and Clank merch

[aiam-maianaise]

Actually I’m gonna go more in depth here. Tags were before I wrote this part.

Even with a basic savings account, the 10million will quickly outsize what the 1k a day is capable of.

1k a day, may as many have said, reach 10million in 27 years.

But the 10million in those 27 years, even from just basic interest, could reach a lot more.

Like this:

I’ll put the interest rate at 3%. Modest conpared to some, but reasonable. It’ll partially account for how interest rates fluctuate form high at 5 to 6% to lows of 1%

Lets say you spend 1 million to get a house, pay off loans, decrease your weekly expenses.

9 million stowed away for interest.

After 1 year, 9 million becomes 9 270 000 (increased by 270 000)

The second year, that becomes 9 548 100 (278 100 increase)

Third year: 9 834 543 (286 443 increase)

Fourth Year: 10 129 579 (295 036.29 increase. Im lazy and ifnrinf the .29 tho)

At least point you have officially recouped the money you spent paying off loans/buying a house or using as simple spending money.

Fifth year: 10 433 466 (303 887 increase)

Sixth Year: 10 746 469 (313 003 increase)

Seventh Year: 11 068 863 (322 394 increase)

Eighth Year: 11 400 928 (332 065)

Ninth Year: 11 742 955 (342 027)

Tenth Year: 12 125 243 (352 288)

Eleventh Year: 12 489 000 (363 757)

And after 11 years the interest alone almost matches the amount you get each year from the 1k a day.

And with each year the bench mark to match the lump sum amount shifts ever farther.

(By 27 years, the lump sum person with a modest interest rate of 3% could potentially have gotten to 20 041 171$. Double the original sum, and double the ‘goal post’)

All this is with a more reserved interest rate. If you had a higher interest rate or were actively investing, this would be rather different. A 5% interest rate would’ve matched and surpassed the rate of 1k a day in the first year at 450 000 a year (not accountjng tax on the interest) even a 4% on 9 million puts you just under at 360 000 per year, meaning the bery next year youve surpassed it.

Additionally, if you are still working a job, you likely have saved additional money due to not having to pay off loans/pay rent or other stuff. Obviously i habe not accounted for that variable.

Any bad marhs is cause a) its 8 am and i havnet slept wheee (also probably did this a harder way than i needed to)

And also maube just me funbling them keys and numbers fjjfjf.

Explain your reasoning plzzz

[eravioli]

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[amnyaburas]

Hello, I am Amany Ubeid . I am a 40 years old. mother of 3 children. My son Mohammed is 16 years old, my son Moath is 14 years old, and my daughter Habiba is 9 years old.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #17 )

These are photos of my children ❤️ before the war .

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

Before the war, our life was a beautiful and stable life. My husband and I used to go to work every day and return to our beautiful home to make us feel the warmth of our family. My work and my husband's work were destroyed and my house was completely burned. It became completely empty and there was nothing in it and it was vulnerable to accidents. Everything we used to live in was destroyed. We have lost our past. And our future became only in our memories. These are pictures of my house before and after it was burned.

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

My home before

My home after

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

We were displaced from northern Gaza to the south, and now we are next to Rafah in a small place that is not suitable for habitation. I do not know what to do. There is no food, no clean water, and no medicine.

My husband suffers from a skin disease called psoriasis and needs constant treatment, but the treatment is not available.

My husband's treatment costs $100 per month (136 Canadian dollars).

My son needs surgery to save his eye, which, without proper medical attention, may lead to disability. We are seeking support for him to receive the necessary surgery abroad.

The surgical procedure costs 2000 $ (2733 Canadian dollars).

I feel completely exhausted because there is no ointment or treatment for them. I feel restricted and unable to move.

My husband and I, after losing our entire future in Gaza, decided to escape the hell of war and start a new life that our children deserve in a safer and more peaceful place .

Traveling to Egypt costs 25,000$ (34,162.5 Canadian dollars), and to start a new life there, we need 50,000$ (68,325 Canadian dollars) including traveling, accomodations, treatments, medicines and living expenses.

Please, maybe with your help we will survive and give us a chance to live again.

Your help and support is important to keep us alive. Please do not forget us ❤️

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉🍉

[stil-lindigo]

hi, i don't know if you've seen the statistics for the arab.org clicks but in the last quarter of 2023, they generated $380 for unrwa - not a huge amount in context of palestinians who need much more than that to leave gaza, but nobody had to donate those dollars. those were generated. and generally, they raise ~$100 per quarter, with most of it coming from their own bridging the gap of donations to make it worth it. i got curious and looked at the stats yesterday and just thought i'd point it out because i feel like people don't see the results of the "daily click" and maybe this would prove that it is actually well worth it. wishing you well <3

thank you anon, that’s a really amazing point!! here’s a reminder to do your daily clicks.

[opencommunion]

"The story of  'John Doe 1' of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer. In a country where the earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks.  But soon after he began working for roughly two U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered. 

The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making the conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets. In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo.

As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns.

Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement. ... While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities. 'Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,' explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are 'refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.'

... Of the 255,000 Congolese mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence. Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence. ... Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100% tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S. Currently, China owns about 80% of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese work in 'artisanal' mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports.  'Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,' wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. 'It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.' While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy."

[fatehbaz]

Good question:

In the United States, many jails and prisons can and will charge you money for every single night that you spend imprisoned, for the entire duration of your incarceration, as if you were being billed for staying at a hotel. Even if you are incarcerated for years. Adding up to tens of thousands of dollars. What happens when you’re released?

In response to this:

---

So.

You’re getting charged, like, ten dollars every time you even submit a request form to possibly be seen by a doctor or dentist.

You’re getting charged maybe five dollars for ten minutes on the phone.

Any time a friend or family tries to send you like five dollars so that you can buy some toothpaste or lotion, or maybe a snack from the commissary since you’re diabetic and the “meals” have left you malnourished, maybe half of that money gets taken as a “service fee” by the corporate contractor that the prison uses to manage your pre-paid debit card. So you’re already losing money every day just by being there.

What happens if you can’t pay?

In some places, after serving just a couple of years for drugs charges, almost 20 years after being released, the state can still hunt you down for over $80,000 that you “owe” as if it were a per-night room-and-board accommodations charge, like this recent highly-publicized case in Connecticut:

Excerpt:

Two decades after her release from prison, [TB] feels she is still being punished. When her mother died two years ago, the state of Connecticut put a lien on the Stamford home she and her siblings inherited. It said she owed $83,762 to cover the cost of her 2 1/2 year imprisonment for drug crimes. [...] “I’m about to be homeless,” said [TB], 58, who in March [2022] became the lead plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the state law that charges prisoners $249 a day for the cost of their incarceration. [...] All but two states have so-called “pay-to-stay” laws that make prisoners pay for their time behind bars [...]. Critics say it’s an unfair second penalty that hinders rehabilitation by putting former inmates in debt for life. Efforts have been underway in some places to scale back or eliminate such policies. Two states — Illinois and New Hampshire — have repealed their laws since 2019. [...] Pay-to-stay laws were put into place in many areas during the tough-on-crime era of the 1980s and ’90s, said Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology at University of Southern California who is leading a study of the practice. [...] Connecticut used to collect prison debt by attaching an automatic lien to every inmate, claiming half of any financial windfall they might receive for up to 20 years after they are released from prison [...].

Text by: Pat Eaton-Robb. “At $249 per day, prison stays leave ex-inmates deep in debt.” AP News / The Associated Press. 27 August 2022.

---

---

Look at this:

To help her son, Cindy started depositing between $50 to $100 a week into Matthew’s account, money he could use to buy food from the prison commissary, such as packaged ramen noodles, cookies, or peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. Cindy said sending that money wasn’t necessarily an expense she could afford. “No one can,” she said. So far in the past month, she estimates she sent Matthew close to $300. But in reality, he only received half of that amount. The balance goes straight to the prison to pay off the $1,000 in “rent” that the prison charged Matthew for his prior incarceration. [...] A PA Post examination of six county budgets (Crawford, Dauphin, Lebanon, Lehigh, Venango and Indiana) showed that those counties’ prisons have collected more than $15 million from inmates — almost half is for daily room and board fees that are meant to cover at least a portion of the costs with housing and food. Prisoners who don’t work are still expected to pay. If they don’t, their bills are sent to collections agencies, which can report the debts to credit bureaus. [...] Between 2014 and 2017, the Indiana County Prison — which has an average inmate population of 87 people — collected nearly $3 million from its prisoners. In the past five years, Lebanon’s jail collected just over $2 million in housing and processing fees.

Text by: Joseph Darius Jaafari. “Paying rent to your jailers: Inmates are billed millions of dollars for their stays in Pa. prisons.” WHYY (PBS). 10 December 2019. Originally published at PA Post.

---

Pay-to-stay, the practice of charging people to pay for their own jail or prison confinement, is being enforced unfairly by using criminal, civil and administrative law, according to a new Rutgers University-New Brunswick led study. The study [...] finds that charging pay-to-stay fees is triggered by criminal justice contact but possible due to the co-opting of civil and administrative institutions, like social service agencies and state treasuries that oversee benefits, which are outside the realm of criminal justice. “A person can be charged $20 to $80 a day for their incarceration,” said author Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology and a faculty affiliate of Rutgers' criminal justice program. “That per diem rate can lead to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees when a person gets out of prison. To recoup fees, states use civil means such as lawsuits and wage garnishment against currently and formerly incarcerated people, and regularly use administrative means such as seizing employment pensions, tax refunds and public benefits to satisfy the debt.” [...] Civil penalties are enacted on family members if the defendant cannot pay and in states such as Florida, Nevada and Idaho can occur even after the original defendant is deceased. [...]

Text by: Megan Schumann. “States Unfairly Burdening Incarcerated People With “Pay-to-Stay” Fees.” Rutgers press release. 20 November 2020.

---

So, to pay for your own imprisonment, states can:

-- hunt you down for decades (track you down 20 years later, charge you tens of thousands of dollars, and take your house away)

-- put a lien on your vehicle, house

-- garnish your paycheck/wages

-- seize your tax refund

-- send collections agencies after you

-- take your public assistance benefits

-- sue you in civil court

-- take money from your family even after you’re dead

[halfricanloveyou]

right because fucking coca-cola is a luxury product made from the blood of child slaves and is inherently evil

the consumer is not the one exploiting the working class. the working class is not you know good and goddamn well coca cola is not a luxury product. things people can buy with food stamps or 2 weeks of loose change are not luxury products.

*You should recognize bad practices AND not voluntarily support companies through conducting business (i.e. purchasing luxury products).

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley wins a box seat ticket for the first game of the World Series final, he doesn't think his day could get any better. But when he's given a seat in the press box by mistake, he meets a gorgeous sports writer from New York. And he has one of the best nights of his life.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and smut (18+)

Length: 6300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was half asleep, sipping on his coffee while he drove to North Island from his house in the soft pre dawn light. He really hated these early training days that started at six o'clock and didn't end until after dinnertime. He'd be in the air all day, and then he'd probably be too tired to stay awake to watch game one of the World Series. 

Everyone on base was excited that the Padres were playing the Angels. A Southern California showdown for the ages. Tickets to game one in San Diego were selling for almost a thousand dollars per seat, but the sports radio host Bradley was listening to was giving them away.

Bradley yawned as the host asked, "Who was the first major league baseball player to pitch a ball over 100 miles per hour?"

"That's easy," Bradley mumbled. "Nolan Ryan." And then he realized that it was 5:30 in the morning and perhaps nobody else who was listening knew that fact. "Huh," he grunted, reaching for his phone at a red light. He dialed the number and was shocked when he got through to the host. 

"Good morning, caller! What's your name? Where are you from?"

"I'm Bradley. From Coronado."

"Do you have an answer for me, Bradley? Which major league player was the first to pitch over 100 miles per hour?"

"That would be Nolan Ryan."

"You sound confident in your baseball knowledge," the host replied. "Double or nothing? I'll upgrade your ticket to a seat in a box suite if you can tell me which team Ryan was pitching against."

Bradley smiled to himself as he pictured the boxes of his dad's old baseball cards that he still had in his garage. "He was pitching against the Chicago White Sox."

And just like that, Bradley was the proud owner of a suite ticket for game one of the World Series at Petco Park later that night. 

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

Your flight from New York to San Diego had been delayed so many times, you were a little surprised you managed to get to your hotel in your rental car and then make it to the game on time. At least you'd been able to start writing your article on the flight. Unless the game went into extra innings, you should be able to finish by your midnight deadline. Because if there was one thing the New York Times didn't mess around with, it was the hard cutoff for your submissions. 

As you made your way to the media entrance at Petco Park, you pulled out your lanyard with your credentials and looped it around your neck. As soon as someone learned that you were a sports writer for the most prestigious newspaper in the country, they were either impressed or they did a double take. You were a freshly thirty year old female with a ten year career in sports journalism, and you didn't take shit from any guys about it. 

In fact, you loved it when men tried to one up you. Because they never could. You knew more than they did about sports, you were an amazing writer, and you found pleasure in shutting them down. Preferably in front of their friends. And then they would inevitably try to ask you out. And you would shut that down, too. It was a game that you were very good at now. 

As you were scanned into the ballpark by a security officer, you quickly made your way up to your assigned press box. You expected the heavy hitters to be there. And of course you'd be the youngest, and probably one of just a few women in attendance. As you climbed the narrow stairs and swiped your badge one last time, you opened the door and strolled past a table filled with food and drinks. And then you saw them: Carl from ESPN, Jack from The Chicago Tribune, Harold from the Los Angeles Times, and Quincy from the Philadelphia Inquirer. You would keep your guard up, because it was just a matter of time before one of them made some sort of comment about your ability to do your job. 

The room was already filling up as you claimed a spot on one of the narrow counters where you could set up your computer and get to work. You removed your lanyard and tossed it next to your stuff, and then you waved to Raya from MSN Sports, the only other female in the room. When you turned to grab a drink and some food, you noticed the flash of a handsome face and a mustache. And then you stifled a scream as you saw and felt a plastic cup of cold beer meet your chest before soaking the front of you completely. 

"Oh, fuck!" came the deep, raspy voice of the most handsome man you could remember seeing in recent history as he stared at your chest. You supposed it was a fair trade, because you couldn't look away from his face no matter what you did. He was hot; all tan skin, brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. And the blush that crept in and colored his cheeks made him look boyish as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "I'm so sorry!"

When he swallowed hard, and his eyes drifted down to your chest again, you looked down as well. Great. Your light blue lace bra was plainly visible through your white blouse, and the beer was even dripping onto your jeans and your new, white Chucks. 

You just shook your head and shrugged. "It's okay. Shit happens. But why did you bring a beer in here?" you asked. But he still looked so embarrassed and flustered, you decided to mess with him. "Who do you write for? I'll send them my laundry bill."

"Write?" he asked, and yep, that was confirmation that he had the sexiest voice you had ever heard. 

"Yeah," you said, feeling a little flustered yourself as you reached for some napkins to dab your shirt dry. "Tampa Bay Times? Boston Globe? Oh Lord, don't tell me you're from Barstool Sports. I don't recognize you, and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you." That was a lie; you would definitely have remembered him.

"No," he said, watching your every move. "I don't write."

You laughed as his gaze flicked up from your chest to your eyes when you looked up at him. "That explains the alcohol, then. But why are you in the press box? Did you get lost up here?"

He smirked at that. "No. I won a radio contest and got a seat in a box suite. But somehow my ticket got mixed up, and they sent me a media pass instead."

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him up and down now. "I had to pay for a four year journalism degree for my media pass, and you're going to tell me I could have just listened to the radio?"

His laugh was infectious and his smile made you a little giddy as he held out his hand to you. "I'm Bradley. I don't think I could manage to write an article about sports, even if I was getting paid to do it. You must be very talented." You preened a bit at his words as you shook his hand. "And I'm really sorry about the beer," he added, gesturing to your shirt. "I'd offer to get you a drink or dinner, but the food in here is free, and you're actually working. So, I'll just stand here like an idiot and keep shaking your hand and apologizing until you tell me your name and tell me to stop. I'm really sorry about your shirt." He was still shaking your hand, and now you couldn't stop smiling.

You told him your first name and then you said, "You can stop shaking my hand now, Bradley." 

"Let me grab you some water?" he asked, and when you nodded, he turned toward the bar in the far corner. And you took in his tall frame, broad shoulders and massive biceps which were highlighted by his Padres shirt. 

"Oh no," you whispered to yourself, still mindlessly dabbing your wet blouse with some napkins.

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

Bradley turned toward you with two water bottles, and thankfully this time he managed to keep the drinks in his hands. You were so fucking cute, and your wet shirt was doing crazy things to him. He couldn't stop smiling, and when you looked up at him and cautiously accepted your drink, you were smiling too. 

"Thanks for not drenching me again," you said, tapping your drink to his. And then Bradley heard an older guy call your name, and you turned in his direction. 

"Nice shirt," he shouted so everyone was suddenly looking your way. "That how you plan on getting an exclusive with one of the players? Sex sells now? I thought this was about the game."

Bradley was appalled that another journalist was talking to you like that, but before he could say that your wet shirt was actually his fault, you were shouting back at the guy.

"Harold, you couldn't even drag your sorry, old ass down to the field fast enough to get an exclusive with the mascot. I don't know how you're not retired or dead yet. Didn't you cover the 1922 World Series?"

Bradley watched Harold purse his lips at you before he turned away and took a seat. And when Bradley glanced down at you as you sipped your water, you looked completely unfazed. And he was ridiculously turned on.

"Damn, nobody should be messing with you," he said, thoroughly impressed. "You're an Ace."

You just rolled your eyes, but you looked very pleased by his words. He already knew he wanted to talk to you all night, but now you were setting your drink down next to your computer and opening it as you sat. "This is a boys club. Just a dick measuring contest. I can't let up for a second or I'll get steamrolled."

Bradley let his eyes dip down to your damp shirt as he asked, "I don't want to commit another beer related crime. You seem to know how this press box stuff works. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," you told him as you licked your lips. "As long as you don't spill anything else on me."

Bradley eased himself down on the stool next to yours, and his knee brushed your thigh. He watched you filling out a baseball stat sheet while you opened up a document on your computer. 

"So what was the trivia question?" you asked as you sipped your water again.

"Trivia question?" he murmured, watching your lips wrap around the rim of the bottle before you took a drink. 

"Yeah, isn't that how you won the pass? For the box seat? Even though you're slumming it with the journalists now?"

"I wouldn't call this slumming it," he said, eyeing your pretty face. "But yeah, they asked who was the first pitcher to throw a ball over 100 miles per hour."

"Oh. Nolan Ryan. Angels versus the White Sox. Nice," you said as you smiled at him. Fuck. You liked sports. You wrote about sports. You were gorgeous, and you knew more about sports than he did. Bradley let his mind drift to peeling off your damp, white shirt and licking the taste of beer off your chest while you moaned baseball stats and ran your fingers through his hair. He could definitely get into that. He briefly wondered if you were going to be at the next game here on Sunday.

And then you were keeping the game stats in your notebook at the same time you typed up notes, and Bradley realized he had missed the first few pitches. "Oof, that was a sloppy curveball," you muttered as you peered down at the field before checking the overhead screen. "He's supposed to be their Ace."

"Nah, you're the Ace," Bradley said, and you turned to grin at him as your fingers brushed against his. There was not a lot of room at this little countertop, and when you tried to nudge his arm out of the way, he wrapped it around the back of your stool. 

"How am I supposed to keep my stats with you taking up so much space?" you asked, but your tone sounded playful, and you leaned a little closer to him. "You're massive."

Those words spoken in your voice had his cock stirring. "Yeah well, not a lot I can do about that, Ace."

That grin was back as you tapped the end of your pencil against your lips, and his gaze followed the motion. "So what do you do, Bradley? I'm going to guess you're not a waiter since you can't walk without spilling drinks. And you're definitely not a writer."

"I'm a pilot. A naval aviator," he told you softly, running his thumb along your back and watching you bite your lip. 

"Fascinating," you told him before returning your attention back to the game and scribbling down the pitch count. And that's when Bradley's gaze landed on your badge which was sitting next to your computer. 

He recognized your full name immediately. "Holy shit. You write for the New York Times."

"Yeah," you replied, turning to look at him before pulling your lip between your teeth again.

"Ace. I recognize your name. You're the best sports writer in the country."

Bradley was blushing, he knew he must be, but your bright smile was focused on him, and he couldn't keep his fingertips from drawing lazy shapes along your back where his hand rested. 

"You know me?"

He nodded and raised an eyebrow at you. "You're famous. I read your articles all the time. I downloaded the New Your Times app solely for you."

When you laughed and gently bit the eraser end of your pencil, Bradley groaned. "You're funny," you told him.

"You're gorgeous." The words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. He thought about apologizing, but then you leaned in a little closer and ran your pencil eraser up his thigh along his jeans.

"Stop distracting me," you whispered, kissing his cheek before returning your attention to your computer. Your lips had brushed the end of his mustache, and he could still feel the soft sensation there as you gazed at him from the corner of your eyes. This was going to be a long night for Bradley.

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

Bradley had called you gorgeous. He was playful, and he kept a smile on your lips. When he made a comment about the Angels' catcher, you told him, "You're completely right. I'm adding that to my piece." And he blushed that deep shade of pink again. 

"Damn, Ace. I'll be thinking about your voice when I read your article tomorrow morning." 

"Mm," you hummed, marking down another strikeout. "It would be fun to read it to you. I think you'd blush. The whole time." 

His lips were parted, and he looked a little surprised. "It would be the filthiest of dirty talk," he muttered, and when you giggled, he grinned. 

You had to bite your lip against the desire to kiss his cheek again. "World Series articles and pitching stats? That's what's gonna do it for you, Bradley?"

"Shit, how dirty can you make those pitching stats?" he whispered, thumb still skimming along the back of your shirt.

"You'd be surprised," you told him, shooting him an innocent look as he nodded at you.

"I'm sure I would."

The more you scribbled down in your notebook as the game progressed, the closer Bradley got to you. His big palm was warm on your back and you found yourself leaning into him more and more. By the eighth inning, his leg was pressed up against yours and he just kept getting closer. 

"Ace, you're killing me," he murmured, taking your pencil and erasing the sloppy note you had written about the Padres relief pitcher. "Let me help."

You laughed as he rewrote your note very neatly followed by what you assumed was his phone number. Oh, he was a bold one. Very handsome, very funny and very bold. 

Without a word, he handed your pencil back to you. "What am I supposed to do with that?" you asked, tapping his phone number with the pencil.

His breath was warm on your cheek as he said, "Save it in your phone. Call it. Text it. Let it know when you're in San Diego. I don't know, Ace. I just like you."

Your lips parted right as the Padres catcher hit a home run, and as everyone else in the ballpark erupted in cheers or groans, Bradley pressed his lips softly to yours. And then you tossed your pencil aside and ran your hand up along his neck. His lips were soft, but damn, his mustache was rough and you liked it. 

You pulled back a few inches. "And if I text you, you're going to write back?" you asked. 

"Immediately," he promised. 

"Well then maybe I'll save your number."

He groaned softly as you marked down the home run. "Are you covering game two on Sunday?" he asked as the ninth inning started.

"I'm covering every game," you told him, letting your hand rest on his thigh. The soft noise he made had you scraping your fingernails softly along his jeans as he watched your hand instead of the game. "I'll be back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles for the next two weeks or so, if they go to seven games. Which, in my professional opinion, they will." 

After your fingers grazed his zipper, you watched his head tip back, the veins in his neck working as he swallowed. You were pretty turned on now, too. And the way he was responding to you was making things worse by the minute. 

"I'm gonna have to drop a grand on a ticket to see you back here on Sunday, aren't I?" he asked as you shrugged and ran your finger along his belt loop. Then you released him and turned back to type a few sentences for your article. 

"Listen," you told him without looking at him. "There's no guarantee I'm even going to let you have my number, so I wouldn't worry about that just yet."

He was quiet for a beat as you typed away, and then he said, "How about you let me buy you a drink for real? Right after the game tonight?"

"I have a deadline to meet," you told him, and he looked disappointed as he nodded. "But my article is almost done. And my hotel is right across the street. We could go to the bar there?"

"Absolutely," he murmured, his fingers still at your back. "Anywhere you want."

As soon as the game ended with a Padres victory, you tossed your computer and notebook into your bag, and you were on your feet next to Bradley. "Let's get out of here." 

You took his big hand in yours, glancing up at him occasionally as you tried to beat most of the crowd to the exit. And each time, he was looking back at you, smiling. You led him across the parking lot, and your hotel was in sight when you pushed him up against the brick wall outside of the ballpark. Bradley welcomed your body against his, and he looked at you like he couldn't believe this was happening just before you kissed him.

It was dark over here, even the streetlights were dim. His hands were on your back as your fingers tangled in his hair, and you were rubbing yourself gently against him. 

"Ace," he grunted against your lips. "You gotta let me buy you that drink." 

You could feel him growing harder for you as you kissed him and tasted his tongue. Suddenly the hotel bar was the farthest thing from your mind. It had been replaced by thoughts of your hotel room bed instead. 

"Come on, Bradley," you whispered, linking your fingers with his and leading him further down the sidewalk. He went with you willingly, leaning down to kiss your cheek and your neck as you waited in a crowd of people for the light to change at the crosswalk. 

"You smell good. Like the beer I spilled on you," he groaned, holding you close. The movement of his lips had his mustache prickling your neck. You wanted to feel it on all your sensitive skin. You wanted to see if you could make him blush in bed. 

You and he stumbled across the street and into the hotel lobby where you eyed the bar as he wrapped his big hand around your waist. You looked up at him and asked, "Wanna skip the bar and go up to my room? Find out if I taste good like the beer, too?" 

The sound of Bradley's groan as his hand slid down to your butt had you pressing yourself against his thigh. "Lead the way, Ace."

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

The elevator ride to the top floor was filled with the sound of kissing as well as the little gasping noises you made. Your hands were at the fly of his jeans as he pushed you back against the wall and devoured your mouth. Bradley was so hard and ready for you, he was honestly surprised. He just met you. This was not a usual occurrence for him. 

"Bradley," you moaned, unbuttoning his jeans as the elevator jolted to a stop. You abandoned his jeans for his hand and pulled him down the hallway, running toward your room and laughing. You stopped in front of one of the doors and started to dig in your bag.

He stood behind you and ran his lips along your neck as you gasped for him. You were so responsive, stroking something deep down inside of Bradley every time you reacted to him. He wrapped his hands around to the front of your jeans and started to play with your button as well. When his fingers met the soft skin of your belly, your head tipped back against him. 

"I can't find my room key," you moaned as he ran his hands up inside your shirt. He watched as you gripped the bag with both hands and let your eyes drift closed. 

"You're not really trying very hard, Baby," he said with a smirk. He couldn't believe you right now. So pretty and so lost to his touch. He was throbbing and aching for you, too. 

"Because you're teasing me!" you complained with a laugh. But then you turned in his arms, and suddenly Bradley's hands were on your bare back. Your eyes were wide, bag clutched between your body and his. "This is... not something that I usually do. Especially not when I'm on the job." Your voice was soft, and as you nervously bit your lip, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"Same, Ace," he promised with a smirk. "In fact, I've never had a woman seduce me this quickly before. You're irresistible."

Your laughter was the best thing he had ever heard. "I thought I was the one being seduced here?"

"No," he said, reaching into your bag and plucking out the key. "You're in charge." He handed it to you, and you wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck and kissed him hard before you turned and unlocked the door with your other hand. You pulled Bradley with you as you stumbled backwards into the dark room. 

As you searched blindly for the light switch, you pushed Bradley against the wall. You had your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and your tongue was in his mouth as you located the switch.

"That's better," you mumbled breathlessly as you turned on the light, and Bradley pulled away from you a few inches. 

"You're fucking gorgeous," he whispered as he tightened his right arm around your waist. He wasn't being shy about how hard he was for you, and you weren't being shy either. You whimpered as you rubbed yourself gently against him, and he ran his thumb along your cheek and down to your lips. "I haven't been this turned on in so long."

Then Bradley watched you reach down and pull off your white shirt in one smooth motion, leaving you in that sinful looking blue bra before him. You were stroking him through his jeans with your right hand when you whispered, "I thought you were going to taste me, Bradley." Your eyes were wide and innocent looking as you challenged him. 

He nodded slowly. "I wanna taste you everywhere." Then he scooped you up as you laughed, and he carried you to the king sized bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You gonna let me do that?"

"Yes," you whispered right next to his ear, and Bradley eased you down onto the bed with his body weight on top of you. As you started tugging on his Padres shirt, he managed to remove his shoes before reaching down both of your calves and yanking yours off. He tossed them blindly behind himself, wincing as he hit the wall with both of them. 

But you just laughed and pulled his tee shirt up, leaving him in his white tank. You were holding his shirt in your hand as he pressed his lips to yours. "You taste so good here," he whispered, running his tongue along your bottom lip as you wrapped your leg around his hip. Then he kissed your chest before licking a stripe across the top of your lace bra as you bucked your core against him. "Fuck," he groaned. He licked and sucked on the top of your right tit. "Your skin tastes like that spilled beer. I love it on you."

"Well then, you better clean me up with your tongue, since it's your fault in the first place." You tipped your head back, and arched your back off the bed, and Bradley followed your lead, letting his big hands find the clasp of your bra. You moaned softly as he unhooked it and moved his fingers around to ease the fabric away from your body.

"God damn," he groaned before taking your nipple between his lips. Your fingers were tight in his hair as he sucked on you, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your other breast.

"Bradley!" you cried out when he rubbed his mustache across your nipple. He was dying to fuck you, but you were letting him tease the hell out of you, and he was loving this.

"You like that?" he asked, enjoying all the cues you were giving him. He couldn't stop grinning as you whimpered a soft little yes before pulling his undershirt off. 

When you ran your fingers through his chest hair and down his abs, Bradley swallowed hard. Because you didn't stop there. You reached right for his unbuttoned jeans and eased his zipper down. He held himself over you, looking down into your needy eyes as you ran your fingers along the elastic of his underwear before delving inside. You licked your pouty lips before you wrapped your hand around his cock, and then you closed the distance up to his lips with the softest, sweetest kiss. You stroked him slowly while barely brushing your lips against his, and it was driving him absolutely insane.

"Ace," he grunted, and you squeezed your hand around his cock and giggled while he moaned for you. Then you gasped and let go of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately pulling himself away from you while he panted.

Your eyes looked concerned, so he put a little more distance between your bodies. "I don't have any condoms," you whispered as you eased your hand away from him.

Bradley pressed his lips to your forehead. "I think I have one in my wallet. It's new."

"Oh," you gasped. "Should have known," you told him. "You're pretty gorgeous, too."

Bradley wanted to ease your mind, let you know that he didn't hook up with a lot of women anymore. He wanted to tell you that the condom was there for just a special occasion like this one. He wanted to explain to you that the last few he'd had in his wallet had been sacrificed to Jake when he'd been in a pinch at the bar.

But you were easing him onto his back, and he supposed it probably wouldn't make much of a difference. It wasn't like you were going to want more from him than just tonight. Besides, he hadn't had anything that wasn't casual in a very long time. 

You were on top of him now, straddling his waist in your unbuttoned jeans, and you were reaching for both of his hands. And when you had your fingers laced with his and pinned his hands over his head, Bradley closed his eyes and enjoyed your touch. Your lips were soft on his face and your thumbs were stroking along his palms in a way that was not only turning him on more, but also providing him with some comfort. 

When you whispered his name, he opened his eyes and he felt surprised by the realization that he only met you tonight. 

"Maybe you should get that condom ready?" you asked softly, rolling your hips against Bradley's torso.

"Yeah," he grunted. And then you were easing down his body, taking his jeans and underwear with you. Bradley propped himself up on one elbow as his cock sprang free. You made eye contact with him, lips parted on a soft whimper. 

"Bradley," you sighed, tugging his jeans, underwear and socks completely off. 

Before you tossed everything aside, he mumbled, "Grab my wallet, Baby." Your eyes met his with so much need before you focused on taking the leather out of the pocket of his jeans, it had him reaching for you. 

You shoved it into his hand before you scrambled back up his body and brushed your fingers through his hair, kissing his lips like he was every goddamn thing you wanted.

Bradley removed the condom and tossed his wallet onto the floor. Then he had you underneath him again. You still smelled like the spilled beer as he kissed his way along your chest, and you were trying to wriggle out of your jeans. "I can take care of that," he whispered, pressing the condom into your hand. Then he had every scrap of fabric removed from your body, and he didn't know if he could handle how perfect you really were. "Ace," he groaned when you eased your feet up his biceps and let your ankles rest on his shoulders. 

Bradley's lips found the inside of your right thigh as if he was drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes were half lidded, and you had one hand in his hair and one on your tits. How was he going to recover from this?

"Let me taste you," he begged, and when you nodded, his lips were on your pussy immediately. He groaned, already addicted to the way you tasted here too. He kissed along your slit and buried his nose against your clit.

"Oh!" you gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and spreading your legs wider for him. Bradley's cock was throbbing against the bedding as he slid his tongue up through your soaking wet pussy until his lips were wrapped around your clit.

"Yesss," you hissed, gently riding his face as you whispered his name. And with each stroke of his tongue, you got a little louder, your fingers pulled his hair a little more. Oh, he was so fucking turned on for you, he wasn't sure he'd last more than a minute once he had that condom on.

"Bradley!" you gasped, pressing your heel into his back while he sucked on your clit. "Put the condom on."

It took him a little bit to get his lips away from your pussy, because he really wanted to get you off with his mouth. But then he rationalized that you wanted him to get you off with his dick instead, and that sounded perfect, too.

"Okay," he panted, brushing his wet mustache against your belly as you opened the condom for him. He rolled it on and kissed your lips as he pressed himself to your core. Now you were holding him in place by his hair as you returned his kisses, softly moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip into you. You felt warm and tight and perfect, and as you took every inch of him, he stroked his thumb along your cheek.

"Oh god," you whimpered, frantically kissing him and licking his mustache. Your voice was coming in little gasps, and he loved the sound of it.

Bradley withdrew and thrust back inside you, and you rolled your hips with his. "You gotta tell me what you like, Ace. I want to make you feel good."

He watched your eyes go a little wider before you reached for his hand. When you took his index and middle fingers between your lips and started sucking on him while he fucked you, he groaned. "Baby. God that feels fucking great. But don't make me cum yet."

With a soft whimper, you swirled your tongue along his fingers before popping them out of your mouth and guiding his hand down between your bodies to your clit. Bradley had to suck in a deep breath and think about one of his superior officers leading a boring lecture to keep himself in check. He never felt close to the edge this fast, but as he ran his wet fingers along your clit and fucked you into the bed, he knew he could cum if he let himself. 

"Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his face against your neck. "Harder."

He bit his lip and fucked you harder while you whined his name, and he kept his fingers on your clit, trying to work you up. He needed to get you off. He absolutely needed to do this. Because he was hoping you'd call him or text him. He wanted you to save his number and use it. He was already dying for more. 

"Ace," he groaned, pressing his lips to your neck as your fingers drifted down his shoulders to his back. 

You moaned, "I like it when you call me that," so Bradley pressed the nickname against your lips with his until you were gasping and clenching around him. When you came for him, you took his fingers from your clit and laced your hand with his as his movements grew more erratic. 

He was saying something as he came inside you, but he wasn't exactly sure what. And you were looking up at him with a soft, fucked out smile and pushing his hair away from his forehead with your warm hand. And then you let him collapse on top of you while he was still buried inside you, and you ran your fingers back through his hair. 

Bradley settled his cheek against your chest and let himself enjoy the feel of your breathing evening out after your orgasm. You were still making soft sounds as you rubbed your calf along his leg. He could have stayed just like this all night. You felt that good. 

Just as he looked up at you, about to ask if there was any way you'd want to see him again this weekend, you laughed softly. 

"Wow. That was fun."

Fun. He wanted to be more than a fun time. "And good, I hope?" he asked softly. 

"More than good," you whispered, laughing again. "Amazing." 

Bradley smiled at you, and he knew he was blushing. "Yeah. Amazing is the right word for it."

And you were smiling so much, Bradley laughed as you tried to hide behind your hand. He leaned in and kissed your wrist. "Ace, I-"

Bradley jerked away from you as an alarm went off somewhere in the room. When you sat up, he gently eased himself out of you with a grunt.

"That's my thirty minute warning," you told him, scrambling out of bed. "I need to finish my article and submit it."

"Oh," he said, watching you bend to locate your phone. "Right."

You looked at him and licked your lips nervously as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. And then you bent to start retrieving your clothing, and Bradley's heart sank as he stood as well. Wordlessly, he went into the bathroom to take care of the condom and wash his hands, and when he came back out, you were dressed in your underwear and the white shirt he had messed up.

"I guess," he whispered, pulling on his own underwear, "I should go then."

You pressed your lips together and nodded slightly. "I guess so."

"Okay," he said, quickly getting himself dressed in everything except his Padres tee. He just held that while he looked at you. "You have my number."

"I do," you whispered. 

"You can use it," he told you with a smile, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek. And then your lips were on his. And then your fingers were in his hair again. 

You moaned and then pulled away from him, and Bradley forced himself to walk backwards to the door, not wanting to take his eyes off you. 

"Bye, Bradley."

He didn't want to say goodbye to you, so he said, "See ya, Ace," and then he was out in the hallway with the door closing behind him.

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

Oh, Bradley! I love Ace, and I hope you do, too! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[strangebiology]

How wrong words become wrong numbers

There's a viral video of nurses saying "this is me 12 hours before my shift" looking nice, then "this is me 12 hours after my shift," looking haggard and tired.

The implication is nonsense--12 hours before and after your shift is when you're in bed, at the grocery store, or on another shift. Why are you looking so tired if your shift ended 12 hours ago?

OK, I understand, I know what they meant, I get it! They meant to say "before and after my 12-hour shift." That is the only logical explanation. It's fine! I get the joke! No hate!

I know some people do not care how numbers work and want to tell me "you must be fun at parties! You and your technicalities! Those two sentences mean the same thing! You can't expect regular people to know the difference between two sentences that have most of the same words in them!"

But like...I...think you generally should try to understand numbers...

Imagine if you're on a dose of a medication that is 100 milligrams/day. Through reasonable testing and logic and...however medical professionals decide these things...it is decided your dose should be increased by 25%. Great.

Imagine one of these nurses wrote down that your dose should be 25 times what it was. Now you're taking 2500 milligrams or 2.5 grams per day.

And now you're dead.

Or it could be something even simpler.

"OK Mrs. Fancy Pants!" says the hypothetical innumerate nurse. "It's not my fault the pharmacist is too dumb to know what I mean when I say 25 times! Fine, I'll write the new dose should be 25 percent of what it was! Happy?"

Now your dose is 25 milligrams per day. It was supposed to be 25% more than 100 milligrams/day, which is 125 milligrams/day. You're dead again!

"But I'm not a doctor so it doesn't matter!"

It might matter to you one day. What if you're the one taking the pills? The doc says one pill every two days, and that sounds like the same thing as two pills every one day, right? Nope! DEAD AGAIN!

There are also many examples of scamming people because they don't understand numbers. It would be pretty unwise to sign a lease agreement that simply said "rent is 900." If my friend told me that, I would assume they mean "rent costs USD$900.00 per month." I understand the implication between trusted friends and casual conversation!

But in a contract with someone sketch? Maybe they mean 900 Bitcoins per minute. Some things have to be specific.

There is actually a whole scammy-ass company, ClickaSnap, that banks on the idea that their audience doesn't understand the difference between a dollar and a penny. It sounds like a mistake that no one would make, but they are fairly sneaky about it. In this video, the videographer says, "They're going to pay you 90 cents per view per photo." Wow, that's a lot!

The image on the screen says, "up to 0.90 cents per view." The "up to" has a lot of qualifications, including paying them a monthly subscription, and they don't say why anyone would go to that website to look at pics anyway. And what's that decimal doing there? Does a decimal...change a number?

It's not 90 cents per view. It's .9 cents per qualified view. That is 9/10ths of a penny. (The same mistake is here and there were a bunch more but I think TT took some down.) I understand it's probably because 90 cents is sometimes written as $0.90--yes, those are the same--but that dollar sign is important! 0.90 DOLLARS is different than 0.90 PENNIES.

Anyway! Just wanted to warn you to be careful of the interactions between numbers and words, especially when it's important!

[satorusugurugurl]

Never got a request for them you say…

I know i request way to fucking much but I can’t help myself I love ur writing🫶

Butttt hear me out adult trio gojo geto shoko with fem reader. I’m thinking professional reader, who has an exhausting but rewarding job comes home exhausted, but her 3 lovers cheer her right up <333

Could be fluff or smut, I just need them in my life Fr

-🍭

Welcome Home!

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Shoko Ieiri, FAB!Reader

Word Count; 2,853

Warning: overworked reader, nipple play, oral sex, praising, making out, achohol consumption, Geto in a fucking apron has me FERAL

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had lots of fun with this one 🥵🌶 Spicy loved it 1000000/10 would recommend.

Everything hurt, from your feet to your back, as you exited your car, the garage shutting behind you. You had been gone for twelve hours, leaving at six and getting home when you'd left this morning. But you couldn't complain. Your business had taken off, and as CEO, you had responsibilities to take care of, which tended to keep you away from home longer than you'd like, but the paycheck was worth it.

You had started your own candle company in college. Book tropes, characters, and television series inspired the candles you made. Your shop had been small, and you were content with that. Until your partners suggested advertising on social media, reaching out to authors, broadening your horizons. You hadn't expected much, maybe a couple of dozen more orders, a few rejection letters from said authors. What you hadn't been expecting was for your products to go viral, and several authors jumped at the opportunity to commission you for custom character candles.

Your tiny little shop became a big-time shop so fast it had your head spinning. You shipped orders worldwide, made custom customer orders, and were featured on several podcasts. Your company was close to being a multimillion-dollar company with several locations. While exciting, and you didn't need to worry about money, it was exhausting. Long hours, dozens of meetings, and business trips were your new norm; it came with the title CEO. You loved your job! There was, however, one downside.

You missed the fuck out of your partners.

With your position, you could take care of the house payment and utilities. Allowing your partners to do whatever they want without worry. Shoko was studying to become a surgeon, Geto was working on a novel, and Satoru was your biggest investor; seeing as he was from a wealthy family, he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to help your company grow. Things were perfect; it justified you working so hard all the time. Some days were more exhausting than others, but it was also gratifying. Your partners could pursue their dreams, and as long as they were happy, so were you.

”I’m home.” You announced mid-yawn, removing your heels and setting them to the side. You ventured into the living room. The condo was clean and tidy, as per usual, thanks to your amazing partners. They took such good care of the house when you were gone.

“Welcome home.” Suguru greeted you from the kitchen. Both the mouth-watering aroma of prepared food and the sexy man stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Princess.” He wore gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into his signature half up half down style.

The best part of his whole outfit was the apron. Good god, it was illegal! The black apron went around his neck and tied firmly around his waist. It read, ‘My meat is 100% Going In Your Mouth’. It was a gag gift, one you’d need to thank Satoru for purchasing. Suguru was wiping his damp hands on it as he made his way around the island, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

You melted in his embrace, your arms snaking around him as he kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.” You sniffed at the air, happily groaning at the scent of food. “That smells absolutely amazing, Sugu!”

“You had a long day, so I made one of your favorites.” You followed him into the kitchen, staring at the four neatly prepared plates of perfectly prepared katsudon and fluffy white rice. ”I was finishing up the salad. It should be done in a few minutes.”

A warm body pressed against your back; the smell of clean linen and musk followed the body's movements behind you as Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder. “I hope so, I’m starving.” The whiny tone that resonated from Satoru had Suguru rolling his eyes at his antics as he chopped up lettuce. “But not as hungry as you probably are. You busted your ass today, as usual.” Soft lips peppered your cheek with kisses.

“It was a very long day.” You reached forward, grabbing a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth. “But it’s well worth it.”

“Long day; I guess this calls for some sake,” Shoko added, handing you a glass of chilled peach sake.

You took a long sip, humming at the sweet taste that danced over your tastebuds. “Shoko, what would I do without you?” Your exhausted-looking girlfriend took a long sip of her drink before pressing a kiss against your lips.

”You would be stuck with these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

Satoru pouted, while Suguru just shook his head with an unbothered chuckle. The carefree atmosphere and warm aura had you relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders as the four of you sat down for dinner. While you ate and conversed with them, your partners looked you over while you weren’t paying them attention. Suguru took note of the dark circles under your eyes before looking at Satoru from his peripheral vision. He had noticed the circles along with how your skin appeared paler tonight. Dark and blue-hued eyes focused on Shoko. Her dark brown eyes examined you as she would a patient.

The three of them reached the same conclusion: you were exhausted, burning the candle at both ends. They knew very well how seriously you took your job; your work ethic was nothing to be sneezed at. No matter how sick or tired you were, you constantly pushed yourself to do more, to provide for them. Your motivation was fueled by positive forces, and there was nothing wrong with being driven by a goal.

However, the moment your goal began to run you down, that’s when you had a problem. You needed a break—some time to rest properly and recuperate. The three of them set their plan into action just with mirror eye contact.

“All right,” Suguru stood, collecting the dishes off the table, “Satoru and I will clean the kitchen. Shoko, why don't you take our sweet girl and get her relaxed?”

“Oh, don't be silly, I can help.” You followed them, collecting dishes that were snatched away from you by Satoru. “Hey, I can help!”

Shoko gently grabbed your hand, her slender, delicate fingers interlacing with yours, pulling you towards the bedroom. “It’s not a matter of you being able to help or not; we all know you’re perfectly capable of that.” Shoko gently squeezed your hand before pushing you back against the bed. “It’s more of a matter that we want to take care of you.” Those same soft fingers that had gently held your hand began working at the buttons of your blouse. “So please don’t fight us on this. You’re exhausted.” Your chest moved up and down, your steady breathing quickening as she exposed your torso. “Just lay back and relax.”

A breathless sigh escaped you as her soft hands groped your breasts in both hands, squeezing the soft mounds. “A-alright, then, let me touch you too.” You reached for her breasts, her nipples erect, peeking through the thin fabric of her white t-shirt. Your fingers just grazed over the fabric, straining against her hardening buds, when she pulled back, out of your reach. “Shoko, why are—” Her lips met yours in a soft, delicate kiss, one that emanated her true intent and desires.

”Have you been hanging out with those two morons too much?” Soft fingers, unclasp the hook in the front of your bra. “What part of ‘lay back and relax’ did you not understand?” Warm caresses of your girlfriend's skin felt like a burning fire over your tingling nipples.

“But I hate not making you feel good.”

“Baby,” Shoko chastised, leaning down, gently flicking her tongue over one of your nipples. “You make our lives comfortable; you do so much for us.” She kitten-licked one of the buds, nearly sending you off the bed. “There will be plenty of other times for you to join in. For tonight, relax and enjoy being a pillow princess.”

You were hesitant to listen to her, but as you relaxed against the bed, you realized just how tired you were. Laying back, your head cradled by the pillow alleviated some of the throbbing pain in your upper back. Plus, you weren’t often told to be a pillow princess, to lose yourself in the pleasure. This might be precisely what you needed tonight.

Without any further protest, you melted against the bed, your hand gently running through Shoko’s long, silky hair as she suckled and nibbled at your nipples while her hands massaged your breasts. I felt so good to be touched so gently. It was a drastic contrast to the boys, who roughly groped and nipped at your sensitive breasts. No matter how many times they saw your breasts, they were still the teenage boys you met nearly a decade ago. Breasts were, and always would be, some of their favorite things. Shoko, on the other hand, knew what felt good, how to get those little moans and whimpers to escape your mouth. If the woman was given the chance, she very well could make you orgasm from your nipples alone one day.

”Oooh my god, S-Sho—” That day was today, “Shoko, f-feels so good, really good.” Your nails gently grazed her scalp before you tugged on the strands of her hair. “H-Holy shit.”

Your girlfriend giggled, sending vibrations to stimulate your already sensitive nipples. “Yeah? Feel good—“ her pink tongue swirling tantalizingly slow around them, “so good you’re going to cum like this?” A tiny whimper was the only response she received. “Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, baby.” She groped both your breasts, pushing them together, allowing her to suck and nibble at both your nipples at once. “Cum for me.”

Shoko pressed her knee against your clothed center, and that was all you needed to cum. “N-Nggh! C-cumming~ S-Sho! Fuck!” you withered and squirmed, your hips rocking g against her knee, extending the sweet pleasurable waves that rocked you to your core.

She was watching you get off from just the brush of her knee, and her mouth on your tits had Shoko giggling softly. Your face was twisted with pleasure, slowly shifting into a more lax face as you finished riding the waves. Once your heavy breathing turned into soft, content sighs, she pulled back with a grin. She’d like to see the boys try and get you off solely from your tits. Because she knew neither had the patience or skills for that.

“Good job, Shoko.” Your eyes fluttered open as the bed shifted. “Got her nice and relaxed for us.” Shoko sat back, watching as Suguru and Satoru crawled up the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, better?” Satoru hummed as he unzipped your skirt, tugging it down.

“Mhmm, a lot better.” You lifted your ass off the bed. Allowing Suguru to tug your thigh-high stockings down. “Sho always takes good care of us.”

“Mmm,” larger hands forced your legs apart, “I can see that.” Suguru hummed, trailing a finger up and down over the wet spot on your panties. “She made you cum, and you did such a good job.” His fingers hooked under the lace hem and tugged them down, throwing them somewhere across the room.

Suguru’s fingers pulled your wet folds apart, admiring the slick coating of your lips and how your arousal seeped out of your tight entrance. His thumb pulled the hood over your clit back just enough, allowing him to rub sweet, gentle circles around the bundle of nerves. While he teased your clit Satoru nestled himself between your legs, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs up to your dripping sex.

“Mmm, I was wanting dessert.” His hot breath teased your twitching cunt. “Thanks for the meal, sweetheart.” His tongue dipped out, tracing teasing circles of your entrance. His wet tongue and Suguru’s thumb had you gasping, arching off the sheets. Your hips jolted forward, silently begging for more. “So fuckin’ needy~” Satoru growled into your pussy. “Normally, I’d make you beg, but you’ve been working so hard you deserve a reward.” His tongue dipped past your tight entrance, gently swirling it as he licked at your inner walls.

With Satoru’s tongue spearing you, working the muscle inside your pussy, Suguru takes the chance to lean down, kissing and sucking at your swollen nipples. “Fuck, you sound so pretty; make more sounds.” His teeth gently graze over the bud. The sudden sensation made your body jerk forward, here widening as his skilled mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it hard.

“Suguru,” Shoko sits on your other side, “try swirling it gently~ like this.” A raspy sigh shakes through your entire body as Shoko demonstrates her technique on your other nipple. “This gets her going.”

“Oooh~ I see now.” The dark-haired man watched Shoko closely, nodding as he observed her momentum. “So I need to do—“ his eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue, “—this?” His tongue matches Shoko’s face as pressure, sending tingles coursing straight to your pussy, where you clench around Satoru’s skillful tongue.

Blue eyes widen as feeling the gentle spasms of your cunt on his tongue. Your wetness seeped out, coating his tongue, mouth, and chin. “Mmmphmm~ yeah.” His voice is hoarse with unfiltered, pure need. “She fucking likes it~ her cunts hugging my tongue, keep it going.”

Hearing the filthy words, Satoru spoke motivated his best friend. Suguru kept his ministrations up, his eyes darting between Shoko and back to you, doing his best to keep up with her pace, mirroring her movements to the exact inch. In turn, Shoko’s hand dipped down, pressing gently on your lower abdomen.

“S-Shiiit!” You hissed, lifting your head an inch, watching as your three beautiful partners worshiped you. “Ooooh haaah!” You arched, squirmed, and twitched on Satoru’s tongue. Your partner's fingers, tongues, and lips moved faster as you screamed, one hand gripping the sheet as your other hand thrust into Satoru’s hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as you rocked against his face.

“Good girl~” Suguru growled against your nipple. “Goood fuckin’ girl~ cum all over Satoru’s face.”

Shoko nodded her head in agreement, her hand pressing harder against you. In doing so, she put pressure on the coil that was twisting and twisting inside you. Satoru groaned loudly inside of your pussy, feeling your walls twitch slightly around him; the tiny movements had his tongue lapping faster and harder, rubbing against your g-spot with every flick.

The combination of all three of their efforts made you scream and squirt. Coating Satoru’s tongue and face. Watching the stream of clear liquid coat, Satoru’s face had Suguru rubbing your clit faster. Extending your orgasm, making you squirt again again.

“Oooh, that’s it! Good fucking girl!” Suguru praised while Satoru glowered at you. Not in anger or disgust, but in feral fucking need. His mouth and tongue didn’t stop moving as he drank all of you in, working you over the dips and rises of the orgasm that nearly took your life. He only pulled away when you grimaced, shaking at the overstimulation of his mouth, and that only happened because you yanked him out of your pussy.

“Mmm~ such a good girl~” your slack mouth was suddenly being kissed by Shoko before Satoru crawled up, slotting his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste the sticky, tangy essence of your cum. “She was the best, wasn’t she, Satoru.”

The white-haired man pulled back, collecting the remaining traces of your cum with his pointer finger. “She’s the fucking best. No questions asked.” You lazily watched as he offered his finger to Suguru.

“Oooh, thank you.” Dark eyes trailed over you before he smirked, gently wrapping his hand around Satoru’s wrist and leading his finger into his open mouth. You choked on a breath as you watched Suguru bob his head up and down Satoru’s finger, ensuring all of your juices were clean. “Mhmm, so sweet. Shoko, have a taste.” Your girlfriend grinned slowly, leaning over your spent body, kissing Suguru with full tongue to get a taste of you. Their tongues swirled and massaged the other for what seemed like an eternity before they broke the kiss with a string of saliva and your cum connecting their tongues. “Isn’t she delicious?”

“She’s sweeter than the peach sake from dinner.”

With a gargled moan, your head fell back against the pillows as your lovers all leaned over to examine your face. Your pale skin from earlier was flushed a darker shade, your eyes were hazy and distant, and if this were an anime, they were sure you’d be spurting a nosebleed right about now. The trio exchanged knowing glances and gentle smiles. You did so much for them. The least they could do was give you a proper welcome home.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #9

March 9-15 2024

The IRS launched its direct file pilot program. Tax payers in 12 states, Florida, New Hampshire, Nevada, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Washington, Wyoming, Arizona, Massachusetts, California and New York, can now file their federal income taxes for free on-line directly with the IRS. The IRS plans on taking direct file nation wide for next year's tax season. Tax Day is April 15th so if you're in one of those states you have a month to check it out.

The Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights opened an investigation into the death of Nex Benedict. the OCR is investigating if Benedict's school district violated his civil rights by failing to protect him from bullying. President Biden expressed support for trans and non-binary youth in the aftermath of the ruling that Benedict's death was a suicide and encouraged people to seek help in crisis

Vice President Kamala Harris became the first sitting Vice-President (or President) to visit an abortion provider. Harris' historic visit was to a Planned Parenthood clinic in St. Paul Minnesota. This is the last stop on the Vice-President's Reproductive Rights Tour that has taken her across the country highlighting the need for reproductive health care.

President Biden announced 3.3 billion dollars worth of infrastructure projects across 40 states designed to reconnect communities divided by transportation infrastructure. Communities often split decades ago by highways build in the 1960s and 70s. These splits very often affect communities of color splitting them off from the wider cities and making daily life far more difficult. These reconnection projects will help remedy decades of economic racism.

The Biden-Harris administration is taking steps to eliminate junk fees for college students. These are hidden fees students pay to get loans or special fees banks charged to students with bank accounts. Also the administration plans to eliminate automatic billing for textbooks and ban schools from pocketing leftover money on student's meal plans.

The Department of Interior announced $120 million in investments to help boost Climate Resilience in Tribal Communities. The money will support 146 projects effecting over 100 tribes. This comes on top of $440 million already spent on tribal climate resilience by the administration so far

The Department of Energy announced $750 million dollars in investment in clean hydrogen power. This will go to 52 projects across 24 states. As part of the administration's climate goals the DoE plans to bring low to zero carbon hydrogen production to 10 million metric tons by 2030, and the cost of hydrogen to $1 per kilogram of hydrogen produced by 2031.

The Department of Energy has offered a 2.3 billion dollar loan to build a lithium processing plant in Nevada. Lithium is the key component in rechargeable batteries used it electric vehicles. Currently 95% of the world's lithium comes from just 4 countries, Australia, Chile, China and Argentina. Only about 1% of the US' lithium needs are met by domestic production. When completed the processing plant in Thacker Pass Nevada will produce enough lithium for 800,000 electric vehicle batteries a year.

The Department of Transportation is making available $1.2 billion in funds to reduce decrease pollution in transportation. Available in all 50 states, DC and Puerto Rico the funds will support projects by transportation authorities to lower their carbon emissions.

The Geothermal Energy Optimization Act was introduced in the US Senate. If passed the act will streamline the permitting process and help expand geothermal projects on public lands. This totally green energy currently accounts for just 0.4% of the US' engird usage but the Department of Energy estimates the potential geothermal energy supply is large enough to power the entire U.S. five times over.

The Justice for Breonna Taylor Act was introduced in the Senate banning No Knock Warrants nationwide

A bill was introduced in the House requiring the US Postal Service to cover the costs of any laid fees on bills the USPS failed to deliver on time

The Senate Confirmed 3 more Biden nominees to be life time federal Judges, Jasmine Yoon the first Asian-America federal judge in Virginia, Sunil Harjani in Illinois, and Melissa DuBose the first LGBTQ and first person of color to serve as a federal judge in Rhode Island. This brings the total number of Biden judges to 185

[myceliacrochet]

Itaf and Mazen's love is beautiful, I love to see it. We are Facebook friends. She said the other day that each donation and kind word is a rose we place on her path. May Itaf and Mazen live happily ever after.

The words of her GoFundMe:

"Hello!

"I am Itaf and this is my husband Mazen.

"My husband is everything to me, and I am his everything... and we are being starved. We want to be together, and we want to see each other smile again in peace. Our love is unique to us, we don't want to lose each other. We don't want a world where one of us doesn't exist anymore. We desire the end of this constant anxiety, hunger and danger. Our love is strong and we want to connect with the whole world, we have so much to give back. Please feel your power to support us through the tiniest contribution, so we can leave Gaza eventually for freedom and peace.

"What happened to us?

"My husband and I live in Rafah, Gaza under harsh conditions. For more than five months, we have been under bombardment, war and fire.

"My house was severely damaged due to the bombing that was next to me. The shrapnel fell right on top of us. We narrowly escaped death. Many of my neighbors and relatives died because of these attacks. So we couldn't stay and had to relocate. Our new "house" is mainly made of tin sheets (see picture below).

"We are now in severe hardship, hunger and thirst. We eat grasses, animal feed and drink polluted salt water to survive. There is no water, food, or treatment. Even though the little we have, every morning if possible, we feed the cats and make sure they got something as well.

"We want to escape by all means. Please support us get out of here. You can make a difference even by donating a coffees worth.

"Helping us means that you give us life and live safely. Help, to get us out of this burning hell here. The bombs are dropping mercilessly on our land.

"Every minute makes a difference. Every little amount counts. A small amount that doesn't hurt you, can make the biggest difference to us... you personally don't have to carry a huge burden, we are asking for a collective deed, when many people give a little, we will make it. Thank you so much.

"❤️

"---

"Adressing your commonly asked questions:

"1. Can we trust this?

"Our friend in Germany has started this campaing for us, because we in Palestine are not allowed to do a GoFundme. Our friend will make sure the money reaches us safely via Western Union. Thank you so much for helping and asking!

"2. It feels like a losing battle

"That's true for every time you give a Dollar to a homeless person as well, and you still do it from time to time, so they can get something to eat today.

"In our case, we are trapped in the real life squid-games or hunger games. You can actually help a ton by giving 1$ and spread the news! We are still alive... the battle is not lost yet.

"3. Focus on two people? Then what about all the other people?

"We love this thought, because it shows so much compassion, but it will cause hopelessness and inaction. You are here now, so if you want to help, here is a good place to start. Just even 1$ and spreading this campaign on social media to reach our goal will make the biggest difference. Thank you!

"(If you want to help furthermore, we'd greatly appreciate if you consider donating to the UNWRA Gaza relief fund as well).

"This is a scene from my diary of harsh conditions. It was a very good day I bought half a kilo of rice, cooked it, and now I'm done. I was trying to buy a kilo of sugar but it is insanely high priced.

"4. Why this specific amount and does it really help?

"The little bit of food we can still get here got extremely expensive, so even just staying will be costly if we want to stay alive. The costs of coordination at the Rafah crossing will go through the Egyptian Hala company. One of the burdens we have to carry is non-reliable bureaucracy, the cost is $5,000 - $10,000 per person. There are road and crossing fees from Rafah to Cairo of approximately $100 per person. I do not know how much it costs to fly from Egypt to the host country where Carolin invited us to. So our aim is to get $20.000 (which translates to 22.500 Euros incl. the GoFundMe fee) to at least get the Rafah crossing for sure. If we have extra we can afford to get to our host country as well, which would be the absolute dream - but our first goal is to get out.

"5. How do I stay informed?

"I post my Inside-Gaza diary on Facebook and Instagram, please feel free to follow me there, I will post updates!

"Follow my diary on Facebook

"Follow me on Instagram

"Furthermore Carolin will help keep this Fundraiser up to date!

"6. Why should I help?

"Because we can only succeed when everybody gives a little bit.

"This is our current home, thanks for your help even for the slightest bit! Greetings from Gaza...

"7. How often is the money being sent?

"The donations are being transferred on a regular basis, so that they are with Itaf and Mazen as soon as possible.

"8. How is the money being used?

"It will be used to evacuate eventually and in the meantime to buy food and water, to survive the harsh conditions.

"--

"Thank you for taking the time to read this and for considering supporting our cause."

Donate:

https://gofund.me/79bcce1f

Vetting:

I don't know of any vetting for Itaf and Mazen. I just know them on Facebook, and the RIS is clean on all the pictures in this post.

@acehimbo @butchfeygela @bisexualspeed @butchjeremyfragrance @k1teko @ohjinyoung @revoltingcocks @yampulp @eraserheadbaby2 @nocturnal-notes @rememberthelaughter2016 @parfaithaven @gryficowa @tittyinfinity @6o3o9 @fantasykiri5 @sadbiooi @battleofthegarys @illpunchababy @alliterate-accident @flashingdaydreams @s7ar-sai10r @tallytals @monotremesoup @dlxxv-vetted-donations @ilikefoodandyourmom @i-named-my-cactus-albert @pogasssm @thethrillbasisindeterminable @agremlinthing @huzni @bagofbonesmp3 @hussyknee @divorce-enjoyer @treffyfrinn @effen-draws @thatsonehellofabird @neechees @queerpotat @queerstudiesnatural @maester-cressen @lampsbian @freddyfazbearboyfriend

[paper-mario-wiki]

i cant add videos to reblogs, but here's how things are looking right now!

by the way, this isn't in the katamari engine. this is 100% homebrewed in godot. she made this over the course of like a couple weeks.

the way she's doing it is 1 dollar per centimeter of the item that she's gotta make. and YOU tell her what to make with YOUR dollars.

all of these objects you see her rolling up she's made over the course of the 2 previous days of streaming. isnt that fuckin nuts?

and dont YOU want to put an item in? you can! go now now now!!

[aquiron2]

[CLOSED AS OF FEBRUARY 10TH. WILL CONTINUE ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS] WANT TO GET FREE ART AND SUPPORT PALESTINE?

By going to arab.org, watching and ad, and sending me proof of your help through DMs, I'll make you a free sketch of anything you want.

Art examples:

If you don't want a sketch, and want instead a finished piece, then you are free to donate to ANY of the charities in my pinned post and reblog.

Different amounts of money will grant you different types of art!

1 to 10 dollars will get you a CHIBI

11 to 30 dollars will get you a BUST

31 to 100 dollars will get you a FULL ILLUSTRATION

I will draw: NSFW, Ship art, fan art, ocs, anthro/furry, humans, feral animals, pets, real people...

I won't draw: Any hate symbols, racist art... etc.

I have a job that eats most of my time but I'll do my best to get at least 5 requests done per day.

Just send me a screenshot proving that you donated/watched the ad and we'll move onward with the request.

I'LL DO THIS UNTIL FEBRUARY 10TH

After february 10th, I'll post the same thing on my other social medias, so I can keep the flow going.

The site addresses aren't in this post because I don't want Tumblr to make this post disappear. I'll put them in the reblogs, or you can access them through my pinned post.

🍉 Palestine will be free!

[sparklepool101]

I'm participating in @ficsforgaza!

For information on how to participate as either a writer or reader please go here! The TL;DR, for every dollar you donate to a vetted fundraiser or charity, I will write 100 words for a request of your choosing! Here are their FAQs as well.

How it works: Send me an ask either off anon or a dm here or on my twitter with proof (screenshot) of your donation along with your request. You can ask that you be kept anonymous, but I need to know who you are for verification purposes. Don't reuse screenshots. That's scummy and there is a system set up to check for this sort of thing, so make sure to remove sensitive information!

As stated above, I'm using the standard $1/100 words. I'll be capping my fics off at 2,000 words/$20 per donation, but remember, even the smallest donation helps <3

I also reserve the right to go over the word count per donated amount because sometimes the creative juices just start flowing.

sponsor a wip: OPEN

Donate however much you want towards me finishing one of these fics! I'll even give you a shout out in the notes of the final product if you'd like.

Untitled - OMORI Post-canon, Hero character study

After the confession, Hero has to take an afternoon to process what it all means. Luckily he has his brother at his side.

Estimated wc: 2,000

Donated wc: 0

Written wc 0/0

Kissed on a Dare* - The Owl House Post-canon, Gustholomule centric

Gus and Mattholomule both attend a "house party" at Luz's invite along with some other friends. Things are going well until someone brings up a game of spin the bottle.

Estimated wc: 5,000

Donated wc: 0

Written wc 0/0

Untitled - Gravity Falls Post-canon, Dipper Pines centric

Adjusting to California after Gravitys Falls isn't easy, especially not in middle school. Follows Dipper on his first day back at school and the trouble that it brings.

Estimated wc: 5,500

Donated wc: 0

Written wc 0/0

Untitled - Demon Slayer Modern AU, Muichiro Tokito centric.

Muichiro awakens in the hospital with no memory besides his name. There, a kind women explains that he will be under the care of her family until he recovers. Follows Muichiro meeting the cast in a school environment, struggling to regain his memories, and the final revelation as to what happened (as well as a few plot twists along the way!)

Estimated wc: 15,000*

Donated wc: 0/15,000

Written wc 0/0

Donations for Requests: OPEN

FicsforGaza is focusing on video game and animanga fandoms so those will be the ones listed here. However, anything on my carrd or any fandoms already written for on my Ao3 are fair game for requests.

Fandoms: Alien Stage, The Promised Neverland, Word's Bubble Up Like Soda Pop, Zombieland Saga, Demon Slayer, ERASED, Project Sekai, OMORI, Imaginary Friend Asylum, Doki Doki Literature Club, Danganronpa.

DNI/What I will not write: Anything NSFW, incest, pedophilia, noncon/rape, anything hateful, eating disorders, and self-harm.

I reserve the right to update this list at anytime.

I will write heavy angst, but anything above crosses a line for me personally.