#wanted to report some of these but as a different set

[theyrekirby]

Okay because everyone who reads this seems to be stupid lets do some clarification, on AI and data centers. Is AI using more power and water than anything else in the world and singlehandedly ruining the world and the environment? No. Is it using more power than some small countries and within the next 20 years going to account for double digit percentage of the energy and water by the entire world? Yes! AI uses way more power than normal Internet usage infact this article tells us this a single chatGPT question takes 30mL of water the fact that a lot of other things listed are measured in how much is used in 30 minutes/or an hour should be rather telling. Many applications of chatGPT that are not just using it's online prompt but using its various API make more than 1 request a minute (meaning in an hour 1800mL) this comparison now does not seem as favourable especially with everything using AI. If a Google search previously used 0.3 watt-hours it now uses 3 watt-hours, this is a lot when we start adding it up. It is true without doubt that AI uses more energy and more power than similar things in the internet without AI, this is a good reason to be critical of adding it to things we are adding energy cost to things that already cost nonzero energy.

https://www.npr.org/2024/07/10/nx-s1-5028558/artificial-intelligences-thirst-for-electricity

Google itself reports that it's emissions have increased by 50% largely due to its increased usage of AI, spending more energy for not much actual benefit is bad, particularly if we think about how we just passed the 1.5 degree milestone for heating which is really fucking bad! We should be decreasing our energy by any amount, not increasing it for no fucking benefit!

AI currently accounts for 1-2% of the worlds energy and water usage and Goldman sacks predicts this increasing by 2030 to 3-4% this is bad! https://www.goldmansachs.com/insights/articles/AI-poised-to-drive-160-increase-in-power-demand

If you don't wanna believe me because I'm a Tumblr user who doesn't even study this what do I know, surely the substance person knows more. Well don't worry some people way smarter than me at Yale want to tell you this too.

Is animal agriculture, (and agriculture in general) using a lot of water yeah no one is disagreeing with this, but to use it as an argument that AI is fine is just the classic comic strip by Matt Bors of you critique society yet you live in it curious. It is irrelevant to the current discussion. This is a different post, discussing the issues of Animal agriculture, caring and talking about AI issues isn't taking away space or taking away the conversation about animal agriculture. Climate change is caused by a wide spectrum of issues and discussion of one of the issues doesn't make the others less important. Will use of AI singlehandedly bring forth the destruction of the world and set earth on fire? No, ofc it won't. It sure as hell not help the fact we are already doing that by increasing our already strained power though. But I would like to add the moves by Microsoft and Google to use Nuclear power are actually really good! It will lessen emissions that would be caused by their increasing AI usage tremendously, should they just not use stupid power... Yeah ofc, but that is not going to happen, this is America money is greater than any number of lives, than any number of floods and fires, than any increase in temperature. Nuclear power is good, our energy usage isn't going to suddenly come down nor are we going to invent a magic device to fix everything.

I think almost all of the environmental case against AI is factually incorrect fear mongering, or "misinformation"

[causenessus]

in every universe. | nakahara chuuya

chuuya x gn!reader

written in 2nd person :3

"i'd give the world to her, as long as my heart's still beating, as long as she's next to me, because I like her." -> 20191009 i like her by (mac demarco)

2.7k words

notes: use of pet names sweetheart/doll (for reader) and love/darling (for chuuya), established relationship, a lot of flirting and teasing on both ends because they love each other and can handle it, chuuya cursing, chuuya being head over heels for reader, gifting giving as a love language taken to the MAX, just two people being bookworms :3 i hope you enjoy! the bookstore they go to (spoiler alert) is very much based off of a bookstore i went to while visiting my mango anon, so i dedicate this work to her <3

nakahara chuuya who never had time to read or stop to take a breath until he met you. in the sheep, even when he was first taken in, he soon began to help on food runs. once they found out about his ability, there was never a day he got to catch a true break. then joining the mafia kept him busy, and what he few things he did read were half-assed reports or those typed by someone who obviously should have been a novelist rather than a mafia lackey.

for him, there was no middle between never reading and reading something that made him want to set the paper in his hands on fire. but that didn't mean he outright hated the idea of it. he liked the idea of books and the stores and libraries that were filled with shelves of thread-bound tens or hundreds of sheets of paper from every decade of the world; some having recently found their way onto a shelf while others had been printed, placed on shelves, and traded hands for centuries. he liked the idea of the worlds each of the books contained, the different stories they all told, and the inferences and messages people would take with them after finishing a book.

once, he’d been trailing a target who'd entered a nearby bookstore to browse their selection. he'd done his own bit of wandering, mainly to fit in with the atmosphere until it became less of an act and something more genuine—a few covers would catch his eye and he’d felt tempted to pull them off the shelf and buy them right then and there before he remembered what he was here for. but that interaction had been his first experience with the allure of books; it wasn't really something he'd learned in that moment, but, more precisely, from you.

you, who would get too caught up in a book until he'd called your name for the umpteenth time, not angry, but worried about why you weren't responding to him. he'd feared you were purposely ignoring him and was unsure of what he’d done until you’d silenced his concerns with a laugh. when he'd settled onto the couch next to you after finally getting your attention, you'd climbed on top of him, pressing a kiss to his lips, "i'm not mad. i was just reading a good book, i promise."

a book had the ability to distract you that much?

"i just get lost in books sometimes—too focused on what’s happening in the world within them. that's what a good book does," you explained further, his hands trailing down to settle on your sides, pulling you close and flush against him.

he hummed, processing your words. it sounded like an interesting experience and anything you liked he was bound to like, right? the only kind of book he didn't want to read was a mystery. he had enough of that kind of shit in his everyday life when he had to figure out where the hell his rookies went off to every day–not to mention that cursed book he'd been trapped into by that detective boy from the agency several months ago.

a few days after your explanation, he was taking you out on his day off when you both passed the bookstore he'd previously found himself in on that last mission. recognizing the sign that hung on the wall above the store, his feet almost stopped as if he was feeling a pull to return back to the store before he ignored the feeling. noticing his interest in the bookstore, you’d squeezed his hand. "hey, I wanna go in there. can we?" you asked, tilting your head while pointing to the store.

he'd never been able to resist that sweet smile of yours and this is–of course–his day to spoil you, but he still can’t help but tease you a little bit first, "huh? you don't have enough books already?"

you pout, already settled on your decision as you begin tugging him towards the entrance of the store, "how rude! never say that to a bookworm. there's no such thing as having too many books."

"yeah, yeah, sorry." he rolls his eyes half heartedly, but he doesn’t put the effort to tease you above making it to the door before you do, holding it open before walking in after you.

the bookstore is worn, the small bell at the edge of the door more of a dusty bronze than a gold, showing its age. the floorboards have started to bow with how many seasons of cold and warm temperatures they’ve been through and they creak loudly, flattening back into their original flush position whenever he steps on them. there's a large dark walnut wooden ladder reaching the shelves of the store's abnormally high ceiling, looking as cliché as it gets, yet it was the first thing he noticed upon entering the store weeks ago and it’s one of his favorite touches to the store even now.

he almost protests when your fingers slip out of his as you run off to admire in awe a row of books that adorn the top of a piano, but he smiles at the look of wonder in your eyes that only grows when you turn to the left to see a staircase descending down.

"chuuya! look! they have a lower floor!" you say, straightening back up to point at the stairs, looking at him.

he's shoved his hands in his pockets, finally making it back to you after you’d run off and now he's staring you down with a look in his eyes that makes you melt and drop your arm shyly under his adoring gaze, "yeah, you just noticed, sweetheart?"

"well– not a lot of bookstores have something like this," you purse your lips, looking down at the floor, "you're acting like you've been here before."

"i have," he replies, arm coming around your shoulder to guide you to the staircase, where he knows you want to go. you look up at him in surprise as you begin descending the broad wooden planks and he shrugs, "was following someone last week and they came in here. spent like an hour walking around...they must've been a bookworm like you."

you giggle at his words, leaning closer into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw, nuzzling your nose into the side of his neck before pulling away. "well, now you're going to have to watch me wander around this bookstore. don't go too far, alright?"

"says you," he sighs, shaking his head as you run off the moment you reach the bottom of the stairs to the nearest bookshelf. while you spend a few minutes observing every spine lined up in front of you, he begins to wander around on his own, trying to find the books he'd looked at last week. there was no harm in it, right? it looked weirder if he just stood around in the middle of the store waiting for his sweet partner to be done. although, another unique touch to the bookstore was a small projector that hung from the ceiling of the basement of the bookstore. it was casting an old black and white film onto a side of a wall, where a few rows of seats had been placed for anyone wanting to sit for a moment.

but he didn't need to pretend he was here for a reason, he’d wanted to come in here just as much as you did even if he wouldn’t admit it. he soon found himself searching the shelves too, gloves trailing along the edges of several book's spines, ever so often stopping to pull one that stood out to him.

a blow against the shell of his ear makes him jump and he spins around to face you, his cheeks a little pink, "shit, you scared me, doll."

you only give him a teasing smile and laugh, your eyes flickering down to the book in his hand, "did you find something you liked?"

he turns the object around in his eyes, looking at its back as if the answer to your question was supposed to be there. the entire cover was made out of blue thread, and the gold text that had been etched into it had grabbed his attention. "i don't know, i think i just liked how it looked. what about you?"

he can see you holding your hands behind your back and at his prompt, you flash him a grin before revealing a pile of books balanced nicely on top of each other.

the large stack isn't what makes his eyes widen and lips part slightly–it's how familiar all the covers of the books look to him. "did you–?"

"you fell right into my trap, chuu," you keep teasing him and it pieces together.

you had plenty of books, and yeah you could always have more but you hadn’t wanted to come here for you. you'd noticed his slight trip up at the sight of the store, and brought him in here for him. so that he could look at books. you'd been secretly paying attention to what books he'd picked up out of the corner of your eyes. and once he'd finished talking himself out of buying a book and placed it back where he found it, you trailed behind him to pull the book right back off the shelves.

you'd snuck up on him at the end of an aisle, where there were bookshelves on all three sides of you both besides the way you'd come from. he used that to his advantage, suddenly pulling you in by the hip to press you against the bookshelf facing the opposite end of the aisle. to anyone else, he probably only looked like he was browsing the selection this shelf (unless they were unfortunate enough to look just a little bit closer, to the pair of shoes trapped between his own).

you'd exclaimed at the sudden pull, tightening your grip on the books, shuddering when you felt his breath on your neck.

"you're sly, you know that? when'd you start behaving like this?" the words went straight to your stomach where you felt a flutter, and you reached out a hand to grip the sleeve of one of his arms.

"well, i learned from you, of course," you fired back, your mouth immediately going dry at the trail of kisses he left down your neck.

"you're too cute for your own good, you know," he murmured, pulling away, leaving you a blushing mess. "are you done? should we keep going?" he asked, looking at you like nothing had happened.

"i– um– just want to buy these books and then we can leave," you fixed your clothing, trying to cool down.

he quirked a brow, "were you actually interested in those books too? in that case, let me pay–" he reached for the books in your hands but you dodged his attempt, shifting your arms to hold them out to the right.

"no, i'm buying them for you, silly!" you teased, already walking past him before he could process your words and catch you.

"[y/n]—"

"i know what you’re thinking. you didn’t want to buy them in the first place because ‘i’ll never have time to read them... what if I don't like them... blah blah blah…’ but that all changes today. starting now, i'll be taking you on reading dates at least once a month. got it?" you turned to face him on the stairs you were climbing back up and he stopped behind you, a look of surprise on his face. "you'll never know if you like them until you try, chuu."

"i–"

"good, it's settled," you winked before turning back towards the top of the stairs, walking over to the counter.

once you got there? chuuya fought with you to pay, the both of you whipping out your cards while the cashier in front of you continued to stare forward with a smile on their face as if the couple in front of them wasn't shoving at each other, cursing one another out as their arms got tangled up, grabbing at each other's wrists.

your card won in the end, and you laughed triumphantly before placing the books in his hands while he muttered something you couldn't quite catch. when you made it out the door, he'd pulled you by the waist to bring your back flush against his chest again, face pressed into your shoulder, his new books still held at his side. "thank you, doll," he whispered, face slightly muffled by your shoulder.

but you heard it still, turning to place a gentle kiss to the side of his head. "of course, love," you smiled, reaching your arm back to find his free hand, intertwining it with yours. "now, where were we going again? before we got sidetracked by the books?"

"i was going to treat you to coffee," he came back to your side as you both began to walk again.

you bobbed your head at the reminder, "ah, right! although i think you're mistaken. i was going to treat you."

he looked at you from the side, brows furrowed, "hell no. especially not after you paid for these books. you're not gonna win this time, i'll pin your feet to the ground with gravity if i have to."

"you wouldn't dare," you stuck your tongue out at him before looking forward and refusing to say anything else. and he didn't argue back, because you were right. he'd much rather wire his entire savings into your account or pay you back a hundred times over before ever even thinking about using his ability on you in such a way. "hey," you suddenly perked up again and he hummed in response, waiting for you to continue, "do you wanna read at the cafe? or just go home? don't tell me it's up to me, tell me what you want."

he sighed at how quick you were to shut down his default answer, taking a second to think through his answer. "i think i just wanna go home. don't wanna hear anyone's voice but yours."

the way he smirked at you afterward, seeing your face warm at his comment told you that he was flirting on purpose to get a rise out of you. but you also knew by this point that his compliments came from an honest place, it was just for his entertainment that he’d word them in such a way to leave you a blushing mess.

"alright then," you mumbles back, cheeks flushed, "we'll grab something and go home."

and that day off had started a routine. "reading dates" as you had called them.

you.

you.

he loved you.

he loved coming home, no matter the time, and seeing you on his couch, knees pulled to your chest where a book was nestled. he loved the way you beckoned him with a hand and a soft call of his name, carded your fingers through his hair as you changed your position, just to accommodate him, so that he could rest his head in your lap.

sometimes you seemed to read his mind and had the current book he was reading on the other side of you and would hand it to him so that he could read as well. sometimes, you simply rubbed his scalp, telling him, “just rest, darling. how was your day?”

maybe it was because he was always so busy, always on the move, always out of the house and returning home late, but he much preferred staying inside with you on his days off to going out if you didn’t want to. he liked it when you both lay against opposite sides of the couch, legs intertwined where they met in the middle, or when he was nestled between your legs, head resting on your middle as you both read in a peaceful silence. 

he liked best when neither of you even made it the couch, but woke up in each others arms, and stayed in bed the whole day. or when he woke up, an arm still slung around your front, keeping you close, but you were sat up, resting against the headboard of his bed, book in hand.

he loved you, it was that simple. it was the root of his life, his purpose for living, the feeling in which everything else could stem from.

perhaps you were a kind of book yourself, always able to take him to another world, where he could be separated from his problems and just focus on the beauty of creation and humankind. and he could do that all just by tracing the side of your face every morning.

[factual-fantasy]

I've just finished reading your response for the first time,

First off, thank you very much for the GIF and Video, as well as the explanations. I can definitely work with this.

I've downloaded and installed FireAlpaca for myself so I can start comparing what I'm seeing vs what is supposed to happen.

Immediately, Something stood out as weird to me: You're selecting multiple tools at once. That's... not supposed to happen. I tried it myself, Opened like 20 tabs and just started throwing colours at each canvas. This doesn't happen for me At all.

So I'm gonna give you some more instructions. (Tl:Dr for the instructions at the bottom, just above my little rant)

Backing Up your Brushes

FIRST let's make sure you don't lose all of your beloved brushes. from what I'm about to suggest.

in FA, I want you to go to Help > Open Config Folder

That will lead to a folder that, for me, looks like this

Keep in mind that it could look different for you, I have a fresh install with no cool special brushes. (also I can't draw to save my life)

Now simply Ctrl+A (select all) and copy it to another folder. go to like... Documents or Downloads or something, Make a folder called "Brushes Backup" and Paste all of it in there.

Alright, now to the actual thing I want you to do.

2. and 3. Uninstall and Reinstall FireAlpaca

There is some weird glitch I cannot Reproduce. So Just Reinstall FireAlpaca. this is the reason I wanted you to back up your brushes. Deleting the program and reinstalling will nuke all of the settings you use, so by copying the Config folder, you can easily reinstate your settings.

4. Testing

After you have reinstalled the program, I want you to open it, and mess around for however long you think it will take to trigger the glitch. (which sounded like only a few minutes) and see if something happens.

If not: Great!

If yes: You might want to reach out to https://firealpaca.com/report/ and fill out a bug report, and tell them that you have no way of reproducing the bug. (although I really think reinstalling will work)

5. Reinstating your brushes

Now, after you've made sure that FireAlpaca works, only then do I want you to Open the config folder again and put your brushes back. (simply close FireAlpaca after you've opened the folder, delete everything that's in it, and then copy everything from your "Backup Folder" into the config folder. )

6. Testing Part 2: Electric boogaloo

Then if you re-open FireAlpaca I want you to once again mess around a little and pay attention. Because the Bug might come back.

If it DOES come back, It might be one of your settings/brushes that is causing it. Which in that case I unfortunately have to suggest starting over with your brushes.

To recap: I'm asking you to:

Back up your brushes

Uninstall FireAlpaca

Reinstall FireAlpaca

Test to see if the weirdness is gone

Restore your brushes

Test to see if the weirdness is still gone

--- Rant Below ---

I have no clue what's happening to your program. This looks like some bug in the code that just causes FA to say "Nope" and stop responding to the side bar.

This acutally reminds me of a bug I've been encountering in Unity where the program refuses to open one of the UI pages in the Program's settings, which just completely shuts me out of the settings for one of the input libraries. Funnily enough it actually printed an error in my console, and the error was thrown so incredibly deep into compiled code that I was pretty sure I was reading Unity Source Code at that point.

I still don't know what's happening. Luckily I have Other People to interact with that settings page for me.

(This ask is in response to this post)

So once again I took sometime to test all this out, but unfortunately it didn't take me very long to come back with bad news.

So this is exactly what I did in this order:

I went to my config folder and copied everything into a new folder I created in my Documents tab. Then I went to my settings > apps > FireAlpaca and uninstalled. I then went to the official website and reinstalled it.

I opened up what should have been a fresh FireAlpaca and found this,

The red numbers are brushes that I have adjusted/used. And the "Fire roller (multiple colors)" and "twisted ribbon" are brushes that didn't come with FireAlpaca by default. I downloaded them afterwards from their little brush shop. For some reason FireAplaca remembered my brushes..

And of course, FireAlpaca was still breaking in the way that I've described in your last ask.

So I thought "Okay, I don't care if I lose my brushes and settings. I just want FireAlpaca to work." So I deleted that copied folder from Documents that I made, I unpinned FireAlpaca from my taskbar and deleted the desktop shortcut too just to he extra safe I guess..? Then I went to settings > apps > FireAlpaca and hit uninstall. Then went back to the website, reinstalled the latest version and wouldn't you know it,

All the exact same brushes, in the same order with the same settings. And FireAlpaca continued to break the same way.

So now I'm wondering if I did something wrong.. why does FireAlpaca keep remembering my settings? Did I do the uninstall process wrong? I wondered if that cache thing might be holding data or something? I've heard about that before. But with the help of a friend recently I cleared my Google Chrome and Laptop's caches. And FireAplaca didn't change at all and I didn't lose any of my settings. So that cant help me here..

I wonder if somehow my pen could be a problem? I've dropped it on the hard floor 100s of times. Could it be contributing? And what did I do wrong in this process for FireAlpaca to remember all my brush settings?

If anyone has any advice I would love to hear it <:(( Please and thank you very much 🙏🙏🙏

[alacants]

The source of those rumors is a guy from Carlos's family's tennis club who is close to Kiko Navarro & knows some members of Carlos's team & is a regular collaborator with Punto de Break. According to him (he's said this before) Carlos & Juanki had a significant fight towards the end of 2023. But the claim that they nearly split up back then came from someone else who's less reliable.

As for 2025, the first guy says Carlos's dad has apparently not been happy with what Juanki is doing for a while... but it seems like Carlos doesn't agree. If things don't turn around after clay season his family might push for changes to the team.

From my perspective it's hard to understand the coaching strategy sometimes. Like you said Juanki's strength is not tactics but it seems like that's what Carlos really needs. This is just one example but I think it's crazy that he sat on court in silence for three sets without suggesting Carlos change his return position v Djokovic - Carlos eventually figured it out... in the last game of the match. And that was honestly the main factor in him losing. You could argue Juanki wanted him to figure it out himself but why on earth did they not discuss that beforehand when it also cost him massively at the Olympics (which Carlos said he didn't even think about before the match?)

I know Juanki's whole thing is treating team like family but there are a lot top coaches who say that after 5ish years a coach has nothing to give a player anymore & I wonder if their partnership has run its natural course. Carlos doesn't seem any more tactically equipped than he was two years ago & his technicals have mostly not improved either (return... backhand...).

thanks for this background - after replying to some earlier asks i dug around and saw some folks citing punto de break but not any specifics so this is appreciated. this does immediately increase the credibility to me bc i know pdb values their access and would not jeopardize it for nothing lmao. tho if it's like, a guy who sometimes writes for them and is mostly posting on his own time... i guess that's somewhere in the middle. (btw i still haven't seen anything other than reports of reports of reports? if you've got links i would very much appreciate them!)

as usual i think we're looking at two questions here: could carlos benefit from a different coach, and does carlos want a different coach.

i think we are all in agreement that for carlos to continue to develop as a player he needs something he's not getting at the moment, whether we're thinking in terms of incorporating a new addition to the team or making a wholesale switch. and i don't disagree with you at all about the natural lifespan of a coaching relationship. i've cited this before in discussions of juanki's own career (stuck with one guy; was it a mistake?) and of ferru's (split but waited too long; chalked the delay up to personal feelings).

but as long as it's presented to carlos as an all-or-nothing choice i don't think he's there yet and i would not be surprised to find out that his recent post-match declarations were a message. (tbc it very much MIGHT be an all-or-nothing choice, regulars here know i have plenty of thoughts about the academy lmao.)

the thing is that at this point the unknowns are still really, really risky. if you've had the same coach for most of your teen/adult years and you're ready to strike out and try something new, then that's exciting and stimulating and you're in a good place to make the best of it. but if you're dragging your feet? if you feel like you've been pushed? maybe someone else could give you more, but you have to be ready to receive it, you know? if you're an environment that you know enables you overall to perform at a high level (4 grand slams), where you feel overall confident and supported even if you're lacking direction in some big matches, where you get value from your coach's presence above and beyond the specifics of tennis--it is inherently going to be a risk to make a big change and if you're not all in on doing so the risks will be even more likely to find you.

that's why i keep saying is that i don't see it happening unless carlos' results gets much worse than this--or, potentially, unless a voice that holds as much weight with him as juanki's (so, his dad) gets strong enough that he listens to it. that might be where we're headed!

(incidentally i have feinted at this without saying so explicitly, but there is an unbelievable amount of money riding on carlos' success or lack thereof--i don't mean prize money, i mean his brand as a star--and it would be naive to pretend that's not a factor in decision-making. that's one of the reasons i've pointed to a sustained slump, rather than one or two disappointing slams. when the results start to affect the brand.)

just talked this over with friend who compared the ideal set-up to darren/simone for jannik--supervisory coach + tactical/court coach. if so, then the question is whether they come to that same conclusion and get the set-up in place before the decision is out of their hands, so to speak.

[rizzoreads88]

✨Reasons why I’m still confident Elriel is endgame✨

1)All the hints and foreshadowing we have had for them since Acomaf.

There is a lot but I’m only going to list the main ones…*how they reacted to each other the first time they met and they both were wearing cobalt blue*azriel being the one to figure out she was a seer and then his understanding started to help Elain get better * the entire Hybern rescue scene and Azriel being full of rage ready to die to get to her*Azriel lending her truth teller when he never let anyone else touch it.*Azriel and Elain spending time alone together in the garden multiple times*Azriel following the sound of her laughter*Elain calling Azriels hands beautiful *Azriels shadows lighting up at her smile*Azriels shadows wanting to attack Nesta for insulting Elains personality* The way Azriel reacts whenever Elains Hybern kidnapping is brought up, *His entire Bonus chapter scene with Elain & Rhysand, *Azriel being upset about and still focused on Elain even after his bonus chapter scene w Gwyn takes place. *azriel having a physical reaction to Eluciens mate bond and seeing elain around Lucien.

2)Lucien & Vassa

Vassien has been my longest Acotar ship. I have been pretty sure about them since Acowar. The moment SJM retconned Lucien’s Dad to a spell cleaver, then we find out Vassa has a unbreakable curse and SJM has Lucien be the one to find her (a bird of flame and a lord of fire I wonder if they’d found each other yet) I truly felt Elucien was not going to happen. There was literally no other reason for her to retcon his dad. Then she’s built them up ever since as well. ( Feyre watching them off alone suprised how Lucien is acting around Vassa, Lucien blushing talking about Vassa, Lucien getting a spark in his eye or Vassa, Lucien having a pained physical reaction when Vassa talks about being enslaved to Koschei, Lucien seemingly setting a target on Koschei over Vassa, Mor pointing out it’s not usually for mates to be away from each other and ok, the inner circle saying Lucien is biased about Vassa now and they can’t trust his reports on her, SJM pointing out Lucien and Vassa are the true exiles jurian is not, Cassian & Nesta also questioning/wondering about Lucien’s reactions to Vassa or about her…) SJM has been slowly building Elriel alongside Vassien in the background. SJM has also talked about how she wanted to do a vasalisa the beautiful and a swan lake retelling and Lucien/Vassa& Koschei fit that perfectly. Now couple this will all the information we get on mates being able to reject a mate bond, mates not always being love matches, people questioning eluciens bond ect…

3)Gwyns Growth in Acosf

Another reason why I’m confident in elriel is because we got so much of Gwyns story in Acosf. People take us learning so much about Gwyn as a sign she’s next but I think it’s actually the opposite.In 1 book we met her, saw her grow, she got her besties, she revealed her deep trauma and how it affects her and we see her start to really overcome that. If Gwyn was getting her own POV SJM would have saved most of that for her book. If you look at Feyre,Nesta,Manon,Lidia ect w we didn’t learn about their true traumas or see them really start to work on it until we were in their own pov. Yes we got hints and a general idea but nothing in depth like we have for Gwyn.(like Elain we have gotten a lot of hints of her trauma but not the true depth of it or her true feelings over it yet in depth… )But if you look at characters like Fenrys, Asterin their storyline happened like Gwyns. They were amazing supporting characters and we learned about their trauma and saw their growth through Aelin/manons pov like we did for Gwyn through Nesta

4)HOFAS

We got absolutely nothing for Gwyn in Hofas. Which really surprised me because Gwyn has been studying the possibility of different worlds/realms with Merrill this would have been the PERFECT time to bring her in in a small way and give us some sort of hint and we got nothing. Even when Bryce was talking about her best friend to Nesta we still got nothing about Gwyn. A huge promising sign to me that Elriel is still endgame …Now remember how Sarah said she left breadcrumbs in azriels bonus chapter? Azriel questioned the cauldron over Eluciens mate bond in acosf and then in hofas the crossover he is heavily involved in we find out the cauldron was infact corrupted by the Daglan. SJM followed throw on those breadcrumbs to the next book…

5)Elriel in Azriels BC

If Elriel weren’t endgame why even give us their scene in his bonus chapter? She could have had Elains scene be with Lucien and azriels just be with gwyn but she didn’t…. Until then nothing solid had happened on page for elriel.. yes there has been moments and alot of foreshadowing but we hadn’t had thier feelings on page yet and in the bonus chapter she gives us canon confirmation they are into each other… then brings up the obstacle that they will have to overcome (Eluciens mate bond) She has rhysand set it up even further and then leaves things unresolved between them…. Why do annnnyyyyy of that if they weren’t endgame? It’s bc she set their story up the same way she did nessian in acofas… a special moment and then a “rejection” and they were left unsettled…. The same way she did for feyre and rhysand in acotar… they have a special moment as they are saying goodbye and feyre is staying w tamlin but then Rhys realizes she’s his mate and leaves, leaving her alone for months…. Again leaving them unresolved……….. people say “she did that to end them” If SJM was “ending” then she wouldn’t have left them unresolved. SJM could have just simply move elain on to Lucien and had her scene w him in the BC and kept Azriels with Gwyn and then start to move azriel on ti Gwyn after the Bonus chapter scene. But she didn’t. Because days later Azriel is still into Elain.

If you stuck with me this long phew thank you! Now while I am confident Elriel/Vassien are happening I do not think it is 100% set in stone yet. I don’t take anything as confirmation unless SJM confirms it or it’s in the books. So while I am confident I also do not count my chicken before the hatch. Could SJM change her mind and go in a different direction? Sure but that could be said about any couple in her series now too. Based on canon text and how she writes endgame pairings I truly think it will be Elriel/Vassien.

[team-canon]

I refuse to do it badly no matter what you ask.

Persona is a game series about exploring the human psyche. People always joke about the anime tropes and the dating sim aspects, but it makes it work better in my opinion, because the characters being archetypal and having a mechanic designed to let you get to know them better makes that exploration of the psyche much easier. You see these characters at their best and worst, and it reflects in the form of unnatural entities created by the subconscious; Shadows, which are a dark and bastardized caricature of the person's innermost secret they don't want to share, and Personas, entities that a person can create from within themselves, forged from those same inner feelings and fueled by accepting them, which does its creator's bidding and has the power to harm the Shadows and other creatures inside the "other world"(for lack of a better term) that exists in a different form in each game.

The Persona as a concept is a whole discussion on its own, but in simplest terms, there's several hundred, some of them specialized to and only used by one person, others able to manifest for anyone that can go through the arcane process that allows their use. Regardless, the Persona's name, appearance, and power all comes from various folklore characters throughout history and culture, a part of the collective will of mankind

In Persona 1, the entire town is plunged into the other world of that particular game, and the main character Naoya has to get his school back in order while he and his friends work their way through the complex mystery of why all this happened in the first place.

Persona 2 is in two parts, Innocent Sin and Eternal Punishment. IS is about the new protagonist Tatsuya, a reporter named Maya, Tatsuya's classmates, and some of the party members from Persona 1, all trying to figure out what happened in the town of the setting, that causes people's wishes and rumors to come true at the cost of reality bending further and further. EP takes place a year or two later, with Maya as the protagonist, working to uncover why no one else remembers what happened in Innocent Sin, and why the same type of events are happening all over again

Some people think Persona 3 is the real start, but that's a weak stance. That said, 3 is where the social elements get introduced, so I appreciate it all the same. The story follows a boy named Minato, or, as an option in the PSP version, a girl named Hamuko, who moved to a dorm in a new city, and discovers that the other kids in the dorm, like Minato himself, have the ability to use a Persona, and they all have been tasked with using their power to investigate the massive dungeon tower known as Tartarus, believed to be the taproot of the Shadows that plague humanity every midnight. But the real fun is that, because it's only a nighttime problem, in the day when everything is normal, Minato can go to school, take tests, do part time jobs, go on dates, and bond with friends, and in doing so better understand other people and himself, and through these crafted bonds awaken the power to summon and wield more Personas, becoming more and more powerful during the Shadow Hunts.

Persona 4 sees Yu, the protagonist, going to live with his uncle Dojima and(painfully cute) cousin Nanako for a school year. In the small town they live in, he and some friends he make find that there's another world, accessed by going into a TV, where Shadows swarm them, Yu can summon a Persona to fight those Shadows, and also there's a giant talking teddy bear that people either love or hate. At the same time as that, mysterious murders have been happening in the town, which the bear helps Yu and crew figure out have been done inside the world within the TV, so the students band together to use the power of Persona to explore inside the TV and find out who the killer is. But on the way, they discover what was hinted at in earlier titles: Shadows are created directly from the darkest thoughts of a person, and inside the other world, a Shadow can form themselves to look like a person and goad the one they look like into doing things they wouldn't normally do

Persona 5 goes the opposite way fro. 4, sort of. Ren is the protagonist, sent to a different city after getting in trouble with the law, made to stay with a friend of his parents who doesn't trust him, and made to feel like an outcast in the school he's sent to, he and other outcasts find a talking cat, and that cat leads them to a place that he tells them is made by the human collective unconscious. In this place, everyone has a mask put on them, and Shadows roam halls of places called Palaces, bastions of indulgence where a person's belief of themselves being something creates a reality where a Shadow if them is that for real. And when Ren and the other outcasts remove their masks, remove the representation of the facade out up by society's rules, the mask becomes a Persona that can fight against the Shadows, and if the one that created the Palace is defeated, the person who made it will give up on what lifestyle choices they made to reach that point. With this, the outcasts become the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, and vow to pull heists on the Palaces of people they feel have wronged them or society in some way, to make them give up on their poor actions and confess to their crimes, with the ultimate goal of going after the corrupt politician who was the reason Ren came here in the first place

There's a lot more. A LOT more. But this is the simplest description I could do. If you want more, we can talk in PM, or you can ask someone who can speak more concisely

Someone explain the Persona games to me, someone who knows nothing about Persona.

[pawscreatures]

[larrylimericks]

12Jul24

Three hundred and fifty-six days Since last we saw Harry on stage, But tonight a duet! For Ms. Nicks’ Hyde Park set, And a Songbird who’s now flown away.

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Text recounting of the full events below but oh my god please watch this person explain the wildest thing happening to them

[image text]r/trueoffmychest post by CptnSpaceCase tiktok handle kelseycanstand

Today my aide cooked what should not be cooked

I have to get this out, because today feels like an actual nightmare I keep expecting to wake up from.

I'm disabled, and need help with stuff around the house. Today was the second day with a new agency and new home health aide, "Tina." I set it up so she would come by in the morning while I'm sleeping (insomnia is killer), and I texted her last night what I would need done today.

One of those things was to roast some precut squash I'd gotten so I could have it with my salads and pasta. I was very clear in my instructions: what it looked like, where it was in the fridge, how to use the oven, how to cook it. I also have a roommate who was up and told her she could ask them for help if she couldn't find anything. Or come get me if truly necessary.

Now, I have three pet ball pythons. They eat rats that I thaw from frozen in the fridge in a reusable plastic bag. Yes, that's where I'm going with this.

Tina couldn't find the squash, and so, obviously, that meant she should roast the first other thing she could see that was technically also encased in plastic, in a completely different area of the fridge. The FUCKING RATS. In butter and salt, in my nice baking dish.

And like, that's insane all on its own, but if you're going to cook any animal, you should at least clean and skin it first, right??? Like, do the crazy, disgusting thing properly so I can respect the effort, instead of sticking them in as is. Fur and guts and all.

And the smell. Good God baby Jesus the SMELL. It woke me up and had me gagging the moment I opened my bedroom door. Definitely not squash. Or food-smelling for that matter. At first I thought the squash had spontaneously rotted overnight and she'd tried to cook it anyway. That would have been slightly less insane and much preferable.

I had to pull it out of her what she was cooking instead when she said she couldn't find it (it was in plain sight), had to open the oven and see my snakes' dinners in place of my own and still couldn't process what the fuck was happening, what I was looking at and smelling. I don't like yelling at people and generally avoid it. Today was a day for exceptions. And at the end of my half-crazed, dissociative rant, I told her to get the whole dish and its contents and herself out of the fucking house. And to not come back.

Suffice to say, I've contacted the agency to report it and am requesting a new aide. Now I'm sitting at a cafe trying to calm down and eat something despite the scent memory that's taken up permanent residence and turning my stomach. The whole house reeks like musty, sewage-dipped pork that had been left out for a whole day before being cooked in rancid oil, and I'm not sure Febreeze is gonna cut it. I don't want to go home. 🫠😭

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[nikosheba]

A couple job interview hacks from someone who has to give a job interview every single goddamn day: (disclaimer: this goes for my process and my company’s process, other companies and industries might be different)

1. There are a few things I check and a few questions I ask literally just to figure out if you can play the game and get along with others in a professional setting. Part of the job I interview for is talking to people, and we work in teams. So if you can’t “play the game” a tiny bit, it’s not going to work. Playing the game includes:

- Why do you want to work here? (just prove that you googled the company, tell me like 1 thing about us, I just want to know that you did SOME kind of preparation for this interview)

- Are you wearing professional clothing? I don’t need a suit just don’t show up in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants.

- Are you able to speak respectfully and without dropping f-bombs all the time? Not because I’m offended but because I don’t want to be reported to HR if you wind up on my team.

- Can you follow simple directions in an interview?

2. Stop telling me protected information. I don’t want to know about what drugs or medications you’re on, I don’t want to know about you being sick, I don’t want to know if you’re planning to have children soon, I don’t want to know anything about your personal life other than “can you do the job?” 

3. When we ask, “What questions do you have for me?” here are my favorites I’ve heard: - What does the day-to-day look like for a member of your team?

- If one of your team members was not performing up to his usual standard, what steps would you take to correct that?

- What can I start doing now to accelerate my learning process in this job?

- What are some reservations you have about me as a candidate? (be ready for this emotionally....it will REALLY help you in the future, and I’ve had people save themselves from a No after this, but can be hard to hear)

- In your opinion, what skills and qualities does the ideal candidate for this job possess?

- What advice would you give to a new hire in this position/someone who wanted to break into this industry, as someone who has worked here for a while?

Those are just my tips off-the-cuff. I work in sales in marketing/SAAS, so these can be very different depending on the industry, but I wish the people I interview could read this before they show up. 

[changes]

A new way to navigate Tumblr

If you use Tumblr on a web browser, you might have noticed us testing a brand new navigation on your dashboard in the last month. Now, after some extensive tweaks, we’ve begun rolling out this new dashboard navigation to everyone using a web browser. Welcome to the new world. It’s very like the old world, just in a different layout.

Why are we doing this? We want it to be as easy as possible for everyone to understand and explore what’s happening on Tumblr—newbies and seasoned travelers alike.

Labels over icons: When adding something new to Tumblr in the past, we’d simply add a new icon to our navigation with little further explanation. Turns out no one likes to press a button when they don’t know what it does. So now, where there’s space, the navigation includes text labels. Since adding these, we’ve noticed more of you venturing to previously unexplored corners of Tumblr. Intrepid!

What’s already been fixed? Thanks to feedback from folks during the testing phase, we’ve been able to make some improvements right out of the gate. Those include returning settings subpages (Account, Dashboard, etc.) to the right of the settings page instead of having them in an expandable item in the navigation on the left; fixing some issues with messaging windows on smaller screens; and streamlining the Account section to make it easier to get to your blogs.

What’s next? We’re looking into making a collapsible version of this navigation and improving the use of screen space for those of you with enormous screens. We’re also working on improving access to your account and sideblogs.

That’s all for now, folks. For questions and suggestions, contact Support using the “Feedback” category. Please select the “Report a bug or crash” category on the support form for technical issues. And keep an eye out for more updates here on @changes.

[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?

[sam-moss]

Heads up, if you presaved the new album on Spotify it *might* add LMB to your Liked Songs. Make sure to Hide it and all of the versions to both prevent that from happening AND to prevent you from streaming it on accident!

please I want to buy the album without supporting the zionists😭😭

(i fear this because the accordian ver has lose my breath concept pics)

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞

❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞

✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks

✧ wc: 8,180

Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—

This was a curse — literally. 

Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them. 

The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents. 

But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him. 

It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow. 

He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you— 

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said. 

“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite  — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—” 

“That was years ago—” 

“She has a key to your apartment—“ 

“So do you!” he glares. 

“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,” 

If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—” 

“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,” 

Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,” 

He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins. 

And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again. 

Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout? 

You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about? 

He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time. 

You: Let’s keep it that way! :) 

He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table. 

And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again. 

Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for  him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything. 

Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway.  And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night. 

“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,” 

“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched. 

“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,” 

“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh. 

“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,” 

He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,” 

“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,” 

He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned. 

And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him. 

You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own. 

At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it. 

“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,” 

He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?” 

He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch. 

But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance. 

But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine. 

One he couldn’t dare to cross. 

But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t. 

Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem. 

Or at least, not his main problem. 

He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out. 

He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut. 

It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded. 

That should have been his first clue. 

Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold? 

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you. 

….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—

This wasn’t helping. 

The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on. 

Fuck. 

No, he couldn’t. 

But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand. 

He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit. 

“Suguru, please—“ 

“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock. 

“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does. 

Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass. 

You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now. 

He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold. 

He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it. 

What the fuck is going on? 

He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him. 

He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties— 

He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked. 

He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up. 

“It’s not like you to call—“ 

“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” 

Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“ 

“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?” 

She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?” 

“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought. 

“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on. 

He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“ 

And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice. 

Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?” 

“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,” 

“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,” 

His phone buzzed with texts from you: 

You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me! 

You: are you home? 

His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it. 

“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter. 

“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,” 

Another knock. 

“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight. 

“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?” 

He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“ 

“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,” 

“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe. 

Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers. 

“Suguru—“ 

“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“ 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“ 

“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you. 

“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“ 

He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck. 

He was so fucked. 

He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop.  He couldn’t. Not until you agreed. 

“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“ 

But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?” 

And he can’t hold back. 

His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt. 

And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips. 

“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?” 

And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse. 

“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork. 

You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body. 

“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,”  And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides. 

Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time. 

He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath. 

“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly. 

You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”

When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs. 

“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.

“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?” 

And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,” 

“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,” 

And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes. 

The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt. 

Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth. 

“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts. 

Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again. 

And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them. 

In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,” 

He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care. 

You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,” 

Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds. 

“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan. 

“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches. 

He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him. 

Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now. 

No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it. 

Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart. 

“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do. 

As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers. 

Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would. 

He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure. 

“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—” 

“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,” 

And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips, 

Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you. 

“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,” 

“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,” 

And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—” 

You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt. 

But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—” 

“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—” 

And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,” 

And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.” 

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,” 

How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you. 

He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water. 

“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I���m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?” 

“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment. 

“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you— 

And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you. 

“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little. 

You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip,  “Sugu?” 

“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water. 

“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you? 

“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?” 

And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,” 

“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“ 

And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?” 

And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off. 

“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys. 

Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers. 

“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,” 

He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no, 

He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies. 

Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera. 

“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.” 

✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing

✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72

[mcmansionhell]

2007-core nostalgia extravaganza

Quick PSA: someone on Facebook is apparently impersonating me using an account called "McMansion Hell 2.0" -- If you see it, please report! Thanks!

Howdy folks! I hope if you were born between 1995 and 2001 you're ready for some indelible pre-recession vibes because I think this entire house, including the photos have not been touched since that time.

This Wake County, NC house, built in 2007, currently boasts a price tag of 1.7 million smackaroos. Its buxom 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths brings the total size to a completely reasonable and not at all housing-bubble-spurred 5,000 square feet.

I know everyone (at least on TikTok) thinks 2007 and goes immediately to the Tuscan theming trend that was super popular at the time (along with lots of other pseudo-euro looks, e.g. "french country" "tudor" etc). In reality, a lot of decor wasn't particularly themed at all but more "transitional" which is to say, neither contemporary nor super traditional. This can be pulled off (in fact, it's where the old-school Joanna Gaines excelled) but it's usually, well, bland. Overwhelmingly neutral. Still, these interiors stir up fond memories of the last few months before mommy was on the phone with the bank crying.

I think I've seen these red/navy/beige rugs in literally every mid-2000s time capsule house. I want to know where they came from first and how they came to be everywhere. My mom got one from Kirkland's Home back in the day. I guess the 2010s equivalent would be those fake distressed overdyed rugs.

I hate the kitchen bench trend. Literally the most uncomfortable seating imaginable for the house's most sociable room. You are not at a 19th century soda fountain!!! You are a salesforce employee in Ohio!!!

You could take every window treatment in this house and create a sampler. A field guide to dust traps.

Before I demanded privacy, my parents had a completely beige spare bedroom. Truly random stuff on the walls. An oversized Monet poster they should have kept tbh. Also putting the rug on the beige carpet here is diabolical.

FYI the term "Global Village Coffeehouse" originates with the design historian Evan Collins whose work with the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute!!!!

This photo smells like a Yankee Candle.

Ok, now onto the last usable photo in the set:

No but WHY is the house a different COLOR??????? WHAT?????

Alright, I hope you enjoyed this special trip down memory lane! Happy (American) Labor Day Weekend! (Don't forget that labor is entitled to all it creates!)

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

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