#Query Store
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Understanding Query Store Size in SQL Server
For a high activity table, is it worth updating stats at a higher percentage just for auto-update to resample at a lower rate within an hour?
Introduction As a SQL Server DBA, I’ve often wondered about the impact of Query Store size on my databases. It’s a common concern, especially when storage isn’t an issue. In this article, we’ll dive into the world of Query Store and explore whether its size should be a cause for concern. Join me on this journey as we uncover the truth behind Query Store size and learn how to manage it…

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Care to effuse about The Menu?
Yes. Yes I would.
The Menu is underrated because of its incredible specificity. It's gained a reputation as an "eat the rich" movie, but it's not that at all! It's about the ways that rich people literally consume people's work with blithe entitlement— after all, they're the one's paying for it, aren't they? What does it matter that they don't even remember what they ate? What's it to the cooks, who poured all that time and effort and art into it? Why should they care? They're getting paid for it, aren't they?
The Menu is specifically about the experience of creating art for a living, especially for a wealthy clientele who have no taste of their own and just want whatever's hot at the moment. It's about the soul-crushing grind of keeping the forge going long after the fire's burned out, because they're still hungry, and you've got a living to make.
And they'll never be satisfied, because the wealthy lead lives of consumption without appreciation. They will take your work that you sweated over, that took years to perfect, and they will swallow it whole without even savoring it on the way down, and then they will demand something new to amuse them, something fresh for their Instagram stories, more content to feed the machine. Eventually, it just starts to suck. You become more and more divorced from what you love about your art, and the things you make become brittle and lifeless.
(And the kicker is, can the customers even tell your work sucks? Can you tell that it sucks? Do you even care? No! Because you're burnt out and they have no taste. It's not an accident that all the best metaphors for the characters and themes in this restaurant movie have to do with eating.)
Nowhere is this more clear than in the guests' actual interactions with Chef Julian. You will notice that as much as the diners in The Menu may or may not be impressed by him, they treat him with very little respect: they flout the house rules by taking pictures of the food, they nitpick flaws in dishes they could never make themselves, and they cannot name a single thing he has ever made for them. His sole job, in their eyes, is to provide them with a status boost, something they can brag about when they get back to their friends; the actual experience is negligible.
Is that not maddening? Especially to a man like Chef Julian, who is so detail-oriented that he precisely calculated each portion size based on digestion? That fish, the one his repeat customers don't even remember eating, must have been specifically chosen, even had the dish built around it, so no other would do. Chef Julian is right when he says that these people represent the ruin of his art— why bother putting love and care into your work when it gets horked down some greedy asshole's throat just the same?
The joy of watching Ralph Fiennes' performance as Chef Julian is watching him assert his power as, essentially, the god-king of Hawthorn. The guests came to his restaurant full of their own importance: food critic, actor, repeat patron, major investor, etc. They have given him the money and influence to get where he is, and they think that means he owes them... but he is the chef. They are at the mercy of what he gives them. They will jump when he claps; they will run and hide when he tells them to; they will take what they're given and they will like it. He is the one whose work, whose vision, whose reputation Hawthorn is built on, and he spends the entire night demonstrating that he cannot be owned (and drowning at least one person who tried).
It's ironic that Hawthorn's cuisine is so specifically tied to the island the place is built on— everything local, everything grown on-site or fished out of the ocean. It allows the clientele to feel eco-friendly, aligned with and respectful of nature, when in fact they treat Chef Julian and his staff the way they treat their assistants and their escorts and the subjects of their reviews: like an oil well, to be used and drilled and extracted and exhausted until completely empty.
It's significant that this final menu is not just a Chef Julian project; it's a collaboration among everyone in the kitchen. Multiple other cooks have contributed courses, so we know he's not making them do this— they've all been put through the same professional meat grinder, and they've all come out with their spirits and their sanity hacked to bits. Those rich assholes, through their commodification and entitlement and cruelty and disrespect, have drained the passion from this entire team... and it is so satisfying to watch them gasp and squirm and rage, only to realize that all the money and influence in the world won't save them when the thing they've been consuming decides to bite back.
TL;DR: The Menu is not about eating the rich. The rich are the ones doing the eating: of people's energy, labor, hopes, dreams, blood, sweat, and tears. The Menu is about making them choke on it.
#anyway my Chef Julian Did Nothing Wrong shirt is raising a lot of questions already answered by my shirt#the menu#film#filmblr#the menu 2022#i actually quit my job because of this movie#i was an in-house stylist at a high end department store and i loved the work but couldn't stand the rich tasteless assholes#or the management that expected us to run ourselves ragged for their money#so when i say i was a little TOO into this movie i mean like. worryingly into it.#i didn't have anything lined up but i figured i better quit before i did something that got me on the news.#(ironically i then went to work in a restaurant)#forthegothicheroine#questions queries quandaries
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Everything is going my way because I am god's favorite child
#the place i want to move in went down in price in between when i first made a query to when i finally made an appointment to look at it#and it seems i have it secure it now#they can still sah nevermind but it's unlikely#and they're gonna open a grocery store at the bottom of the building!!!!#i would still be able to get groceries at a walking distance obvs#but i got spoiled bc my current place has a store literally next to it#i am so happy i am so done with this place#the new one has betrer amenities despite being cheaper
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my confident ass is easily intimidated by unfamiliar challenges
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i am just so earnestly curious. i read the books a long time ago, i am struggling to put myself in the shoes of someone who doesn't know what's coming. the latest promo that has the sinister projection of L: does this come across as menacing to people who are book-innocent? do those audience members have anxiety about him showing up in paris?
i know he was fucking excoriated by a lot of viewers for season 1 and ep 5 especially (no matter one's experience with the canon), and a lot of people now despise the character.
but does like. anyone actually have concern abt the guy showing up and making trouble? it seems to be the reaction they want people to have, I'm curious if it's working?
#yes i'd love your thoughts (but ofc i am trying so hard to keep this out of the tags aha)#I feel like they gotta run this thing on like two different tracks:#appeasing the longtime fans who know what's coming but intriguing those new to the story#and this latest promo along with the chair photo from earlier seem to be directing ppl to be Concerned#as someone who can't unknow what's coming i'm curious how their choice to double down on making L unlikable is coming off#bc lbr he's at the center of this property and at this point they've cultivated a significant portion of audience who#wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire#and i hope they have some god-tier writing in store to hang a sharp u-turn on this massive semi-truck of hate?#i appreciate they have to meld a property she nearly retconned from book 1 to the rest of it and#the writers made a daring choice to demonize ldl and query ldpdls memory#i'm assuming for maximum angst and to make it all creatively come together#but framing him as the biggest Big Bad for s2 is a lil odd to me when you have the obviously sinister TdV crew *right there*#does he really come off as scary to people?#between the threat of ldl and the TdV are newcomers meant to see A as ldpdls soft(TM) savior love interest?#lol it's so frustrating not being able to see this innocent of the knowledge of events...to get how it's coming off to other viewers#i can't unknow the fucked-up flip side to this story#but i am v curious!
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An Update on the Tumblr Android App
For those of you who access Tumblr through our Android app, we wanted to share that starting today you may see some differences for search queries and posts that may contain specific types of sensitive content. In order to comply with Google’s Play Store Guidelines, we have adjusted what you’re able to access as it relates to potentially sensitive content while using the Android app.
To remain available within Google's Play Store, we have added more measures and limit exposure to potentially sensitive content in order to comply with their guidelines and to provide a safer experience to you. To learn more about Google’s Play Store Guidelines, click here.
How you may experience these changes
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We understand that, for some of you, these changes may be very frustrating – we understand that frustration and we apologize for any disruption that these changes may cause.
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The Role of Onsite Search Analytics in Enhancing eCommerce Performance
After setting up your eCommerce store, you engaged the best search engine optimization (SEO) agency you could find. The specialist audited your company’s website and recommended the most effective SEO strategies to improve its online visibility and minimize expenses on other digital marketing methods. Now, it sounds like the perfect time to relax and wait for your recently launched eCommerce…
#conversion rate optimization#data insights#ecommerce performance#enhancing#online store analytics#onsite search analytics#search queries#user behavior analysis#website search
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hhmmhphm
#to preface I love working Saturdays#I have no children and I like my off days during the week so store are less busy and I get my apartment alone while roommate is at work#but I will not be clinic mommy#no center manager no MA supervisor no in-house clins no checkout trained PAS#like I'd be fielding every insurance question every walk-in query and every security issue#first avenue on a fucking SATURDAY??!? with the protesters in full force??#at least we have a senior security guard I trust and love Eli and the surgical site can handle itself#the emotional and mental toll that takes is NOT what I get paid for#get a fucking flex and have a clinic full of questions#I called out! I'm sorry! not really#the union contract needs to take effect ASAP ffs
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Understanding SQL Server Query Store: Benefits and Risks
Introduction SQL Server Query Store is a game-changer for database administrators and developers looking to optimize query performance. This article will dive into what Query Store is, how it works, and the benefits it offers. We’ll also discuss potential risks to consider when activating Query Store on your SQL Server instances. What is SQL Server Query Store? Query Store is a feature…
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Hi! Magicians Anon again! It is based on a book but the vibes are different. Even by fans of the book there series is considered much better. The entire series should be on Netflix. It’s still a very good book series, but it spans over decades and again, vibes are different. The characters are coming out of highschool into college in the books, while in the show they’re going into their next four years of college. There are also some character differences, and in the first book you’re from the perspective of a very isolated, depressed teen boy going into the big wide world, so the first book sounds very pretentious, because Quinten, our main character, is VERY pretentious as first, then you see him grow throughout the books.
Also the end fates if some of the characters are different. Imo I would either first watch the series then the books, OR! Read and watch together and compare differences, either way you’re gonna have a hell of a time, including and not limited, cursing talking rabbits, one of the main characters who is gay getting an extra dimensional dilf husband, super bratty goat god siblings, and narnia elements. It’s a wild ride and you WILL cry at least once but oh my GOD it’s worth it.
Hello again! Thank you for the elaboration; I will take your suggestion and not read the books until I've seen the series, whenever that happens.
You sound very enthusiastic about the series, which is the key to getting me to check things out. other people's excitement is more effective than a 1000 marketing campaigns. that and being asked to check something out, if some stranger earnestly requested me watch something they liked I'd drop everything for them <3
Also wow it's rare for an adaptation to be better than the source, I don't know if I've ever encountered that personally. Then again, I don't watch a lot of adaptations.
Point is! No clue when I'll check it out, but I'll try and get around to it in the order you think is best :)
#the magicians#quil's queries#nonsie#ALSO! i am partial to q name characters <3#i fell in love with qown so fast just for his name#so quentin is *chef's kiss* of a name#we q names are out here finding NOTHING on those gift store keychains#legitimately though they usually don't even just have a 'q' option they skip the letter entirely#anyway!#you are convincing me nonsie#i'm not gonna drop everything but my interest is piqued...
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PERFORMANCE ENHANCER (18+)
synopsis : while in paris for the 2024 summer olympics, ushijima is advised that ejaculation releases stress and hence boosts athleticism. so, the night before his match, he asks for your help.
tws/tags : ts! ushiwaka, cursing, vaginal, riding, size kink, creampie, oral (giving), rough sex, slight hair pulling, petnames, praise — minors dni!
note : this is for the summer olympics collab by @tetzoro. tysm for allowing me to join <3 fyi studies differ but it is mostly shown that sex has no significant impact on athleticism. also smut is labelled if you want to cut to it lol — wc: 6k
it was never a question as to whether or not ushijima would qualify for the olympics; you knew for certain he was going to be on that team, so the only query that ever crossed your mind was when should you start packing?
usually that kind of mindset leads to disaster and disappoint, but in this case you were right to make that assumption because next thing you knew, you and ushijima were on a chartered flight straight to france, along with the rest of the japanese volleyball team.
you were excited to explore paris — the city of love — with your husband. although you were well aware that this was far from your honeymoon, and in fact more like a business trip for ushijima. hence, training will occupy most of his schedule, and any downtime he may have, he'll likely spend with his long-distance best friend tendou, who you both haven't seen since your wedding two years ago.
having made peace with this fact, you hung around on the main street, poking around in some luxury stores while ushijima visited the chocolaterie tendou works at. his friend was aware that he qualified for the olypmics and would be coming to paris, but it was still astounding to see ushijima walk through the front door of his shop, in the flesh.
with a massive grin, they hug and catch up with each other, discussing all the new things that have happened in their lives since they last saw other. well, tendou did most of the talking, but ushijima did make a couple of brief contributions about his thriving marriage and volleyball career.
"so," tendou hums with his elbow propped up on the table and his chin resting on his knuckles, "how are you feeling about your match against argentina?" he quirks a brow.
"good."
despite his curt response and dry demeanour, tendou can tell simply by ushijima's subtle mannerisms that there is something weighing on his mind. "oh, c'mon, mr perfect. let's get deep!" he urges, and ushijima knits his brows in thought.
what he's experiencing is so complex and foreign, he can't quite put a finger on it. he needs a couple of moments to find a way to describe it. "stressed. representing japan in an international tournament is a lot of pressure." he's been under pressure before though and prospered, so he doesn't understand why this is any different.
"huh, who would've thought? the almighty super ace of the century is finally feelin' the heat?" tendou exaggerates his syllables and narrows his eyes to look at ushiwaka with an amused expression, but all he gets is blank stare in return, so he continues, "well, you've got no chance of winning if you're nervous, that's for sure."
he says it so nonchalantly, it causes ushijima to falter, "what?" of course, that's not his desired outcome, and tendou seems to know what he is talking about, so wakatoshi asks, "what can i do to win?"
"not lose." tendou titters to himself, but ushijima's piercing stare persists. "you need to release the stress! free yourself of all your worldly doubts. luckily for you, my good friend, i know how you can do that."
"how?" ushijima is quick to respond.
tendou smirks and leans across the table until his face is inches away from ushijima's. "you need to beat it."
"beat what?"
"masturbate!" tendou yells, accompanied with an exasperated sigh, as he falls back into his chair. despite how they were having this conversation in the back of the store, tendou exclaimed that word loud enough to cause some customers browsing in the front to tilt their heads. "when you finish, not only does it it release sperm, but it also lets out all your pent-up fears and worries."
ushijima raises an eyebrow in doubt, which prompts tendou to elaborate, "also, when you orgasm, hormones pump through your body that kill all the stress chemicals. that's why it feels so good!"
seeing that ushijima is still suspicious, tendou throws his arms up in defeat, "fine! don't believe me if you want, but just know this information was told to me by a reliable and knowledgeable source: shirabu."
"shirabu kenjirō?"
when tendou hums in agreement, ushijima takes a moment to reflect. last he heard, shirabu is a medical student, studying to become a doctor, and they don't let just anyone into med school. additionally, biology and health is in shirabu's realm of expertise, so it would make sense for ushijima to take his advice.
with a nod of resounding certainty, ushijima declares proudly, "okay. i will masturbate."
"great. glad i could help." tendou grins, leaning his cheek onto his hand, "but you don't have to do it yourself. that was just an example. you should do whatever will make you finish—..."
tendou's voice trails off as he searches for the right word, "hardest. so in your case, that might not be masturbating. i mean, you've got a real pretty wife."
though he wasn't keen on tendou calling you 'real pretty' in that suggestive tone, ushijima kept that comment inside, and instead said, "i think i know what you meant."
tendou wishes he could just leave the conversation at that and move on, but knowing his thick-skulled friend, he had to confirm, "what do i mean?"
"my wife should masturbate on my behalf."
"no!"
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
eventually, ushijima may have understood what tendou was talking about. he was still sceptical about the whole thing but as the game grew closer and closer, he found himself becoming desperate for any solution to cure his volleyball nerves.
so, once the night before his match arrived, he figured there was no harm in trying.
you had just come out of the bathroom with your hair down and dripping, and your salacious body clad only in a short towel that didn't leave very much to the imagination; as your tits were threatening to escape with every movement you made, and the bottom of your perky ass was just peeking out. he watches intently from the bed. it's as though you knew what he had planned.
and perhaps you did, considering how he urged you to get in the shower as soon as the two of you got home from your excursions. due to the fact that he has a very strict sleeping schedule and needs to be in bed by 22 at the latest, which means you guys need to start having sex by 21. he lasts a while.
"(y/n)." the simple act of uttering your name in his husky voice already has you scrambling over to him, kneeling beside him on the covers.
"yes?" you respond with a cute twinkle in your eyes. ever doting and caring: one of the many things he loves about you.
"i am stressed for the game against argentina tomorrow."
you frown, already had the inkling that something was bothering him. "i'm sorry, toshi." you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him as you stroke his muscular chest, "it's completely normal to feel that way, especially since you'll be competing against your archenemy: tōru oikawa."
he isn't sure what you mean by that — him and oikawa are on decent terms — but he enjoys your comforting words so he allows you to witter on without interruption.
"i'm also sorry that you felt as though you couldn't tell me this sooner; we could've done something about it. still, if there's anything i can do to help now, just say the word."
"sex." he responds plainly, taking your request literally.
"huh?" you stutter, unsure if you heard him correctly.
naturally, ushijima misinterprets your confusion and takes the opportunity to explain what he was told, "tendou and shirabu said that ejaculation let outs tension, so i would like your help with that. tendou mentioned that i could do it on my own, but i would prefer to do it with you."
your jaw hung open and your eyes darted across your husband's face, unsure of what to address first: his sweet desire to make love to you on such a special night, or his impressive use of the word 'ejaculation'.
clutching the fabric of his shirt, you pressed a long kiss to his lips, tasting his minty breath, before squealing, "yes, of course we can!" you throw one leg around him so you are now straddling his lap. he smiles at your sweet reaction and places a strong hand your waist to hold you in place.
while running your hands reassuringly over his arms and admiring his toned biceps, you pout, "oh but toshi, we can't have you waking up all sore in the morning." you point out, however it's as though a solution to your problem occurs to you instantly as you blurt out, with wide eyes and a cheery smile, "but that's okay! i can just ride you, yeah?" you eagerly tease him by grinding your hips against his already throbbing erection.
using his grip on you, he puts a swift end to your antics, and your whole body is no match for the strength in his right arm alone. "that sounds like a lot of effort." ushijima was aware of how long he can go for, and it left him exhausted most of the time, so he can't imagine how you would feel after doing all the work for such an extended period of time. you were just his precious wife after all, deserving of being spoiled and catered for — in bed or otherwise — so riding wasn't an act he ever expected from you.
"it will be, but it's only for one night and i'd do anything for you." he reassure him while laying against his chest, as his hand stroked your back. with your ear pressed against him, you could hear the faint drumming of his heartbeat.
so selfless too, another thing he loved about you. he smiled when you leaned into his embrace, carefully running his hand up and down your spine, as though you were the most fragile thing he's ever touched and may shatter at any moment.
"thank you, my angel."
oh, this man is horny. typically he only calls you nicknames when he is fucked out. even then, they were mostly limited to 'dear' or 'honey'. not that you minded, hearing him call you by your real name was hot, also the scarcity made the times when he did call you petnames all the more sweet.
so to hear him call you 'angel' before you've even started is very telling as to how badly he needs you. more than he lets on, that's for sure. such a stoic man; even after years of being together, you still find it difficult to read him sometimes, but the way he hardens underneath you is unmistakable.
[NSFW]
wearing nothing underneath the robe, you grind down against his clothed cock and he almost winces at the warmth of your bare pussy. so sensitive that he can feel every curve and dip of your needy cunt, and he revels at how your folds kiss his firm length.
in order to supress his bubbling moans, he hurriedly locks lips with you, fixing his hand onto your back so he can pull you closer. the passion from your lips against his is addicting and the heat of your body against his just feels so right. he wants nothing more than for you to melt into him so you can become one.
though he doesn't like how he can't feel your pretty tits pressed against him, only the fluffy fabric of your robe. his hands find their way to your shoulders, where he roughly tugs off your robe in one swift motion, casting it to the side.
the fiery kiss only ends when you gasp at the sudden chilliness that washes over you. the cold is combatted by ushijima's strong embrace as he holds your delicate figure against his own. it's nice to be his strong arms, it makes you feel so secure and you fit into him perfectly.
meanwhile, ushijima is focused on the lewd sensation of your tits squished against him. being able to feel your hard nipples poke him through the thin fabric of his shirt made it difficult to resist flipping you over and fucking you from behind, with one hand messily tangled in your hair while it hits it raw. like he usually does.
his kisses trail from your cheeks, across your jaw and down your neck. naturally, at that point you pull away from his embrace so he can continue lower, until he had your bud locked between his teeth. sucking and flicking it with his tongue while his hand worked at fondling your other tit, slowly falling so he was caressing your waist.
now that you've retracted, you take this opportunity to tug at the elastic of his shorts, pulling at it just enough for his aching erection to spring free. you've experienced ushijima's size before, but it's still baffling every time you see it. how a nice girl like you could take a monster like him.
drool pricked at the corner of your lips at the sight of girth, admiring the beast in your hands. ushijima stopped sucking on your tits when he realised you had let out his cock, and he couldn't help but smirk as he watched you idly toy with it while staring intently.
his poor angel. he knew how nervous you could get sometimes before taking him and he wasn't one to rush you, so he sat in comfortable silence, admiring your gorgeous figure and stroking your hip with his thumb. though the more he looked at you, the more he longed to dive right back into your tits and have another taste. or push you onto your back and explore between your thighs with his mouth.
though his raging fantasies were interrupted as you finally take his cock. not into your pussy, but rather, your mouth. that wasn't what ushijima was expecting, but he'd never complain. not when it comes to your head. how the warmth of your mouth consumed him, and your tongue licked seductively down his shaft. of course, you were never able to take his whole length but that's not your fault; most amateurs couldn't. and he preferred it like this, actually. he liked seeing you with your cheeks puffed out — his coarse fingers brushing your stray hair away from your face so he could witness every lewd detail — and watching you struggle to deepthroat him, coughing and spluttering whenever you'd try. just a reminder of how diligent you are when it comes to pleasuring him.
a layer of your spit shines on his cock, coating him so nicely, as you continue to suck him off. your movements are slow but thorough, gripping him with his lips as tightly as you can when you drag upwards, and ensuring your tongue rubs properly against the underside of his shaft. you were doing so well, as a reward you received the occasional hushed grunt from your husband.
usually this gentle approach would be the correct one, as ushijima prefers a moderate pace to begin with, that gradually builds up into a frantic, hasty one. however, today there was just something so tempting about you that he couldn't resist. maybe it was the obscene way your plump lips wrapped around his girth. or maybe it was how your glossy eyes looked to him for approval after every frivolous attempt to deepthroat. at which, he'd always flash you a brief yet kind smile, sometimes even mutter something along the lines of 'you're so cute' or 'good job, baby.'
regardless, there was an allure about you that he couldn't quite explain, but it is what triggered him to abruptly grab you by the hair and yank you off his cock and into a rough kiss. he just couldn't get enough of those gorgeous lips, and he utilised his grip on the back of your head to pull you in as close as physically possible. he wanted to feel every inch of your nude body against him.
after your initial shock to his actions, you soon melt into the kiss and move your lips rhythmically against his, allowing his tongue to slip past your defences and into your mouth. and while all your senses were saturated by the intoxicating kiss, you almost didn't notice when ushijima's other hand — that was previously groping your ass — sneaked down between your wet folds and teased the entrance of your pussy.
you moaned into the kiss at the stimulation of your needy hole, but despite your longing, you knew it wasn't right. you exit the kiss only partly, and say, virtually still upon his lips, "toshi.. don't. you need to save the energy in your arms."
"i always have energy for you." he counters, as his finger threatens to penetrate you.
"let's not risk it." you smile, pushing yourself back so you are sat upright on his lap with each leg on either side of him. aligning his cock with your hole, you notice he's still slightly damp with your spit, but not enough to make for sufficient lubricant, so you run his dick between your lips, allowing him to soak up your wetness.
he grunted at how your wet folds stroked his length, as his hand wandered up from your shoulder to your face so he could cup your cheek. "can you handle it, (y/n)? it's okay if you can't." of course he's been in you before but in the past, extensive prep is required before you can even fathom the idea of taking him. and on this occasion, you've not undergone any preparation at all. "i don't want to hurt you."
he doesn't mean to sound patronising; that's just how he expresses concern. well, maybe he does mean it a little, but that is only because the bedroom is the place where he gets to be the smart one, considering how quickly you get fucked dumb by his massive dick, unable to speak right or think straight.
"i can and i will, toshi! i was made to fit you." you whine, and you were quick to try and prove it by letting yourself relax onto his cock. however, you reacted by jolting, as the tip alone had your walls stretching and sore. you bit your bottom lip to try cope with discomfort, as your legs trembled at the strain.
"made to fit me?" he smirked, amused by your proclamation and how it was immediately followed by proof of his doubts. the way your body writhed said more than enough. "it's too much for you, sweetheart."
using the back of your hand to cover your tense expression, you shook your head, "no.. it's not." you squeak and mewl as you lower yourself on his cock, the wetness caused by the congestive sensation being just enough to make the descent bearable.
"mmph— too big, toshi." you moaned, and hearing his name fall from your lips in such a dirty manner send all his blood rushing straight to his cock. a part of him wanted to grasp your shoulders and push you all the way down to his base. but the other part knew that he'd destroy your insides if he did that. he'll have to learn to be patient; the burden of having a wife with such a tight little cunt.
your sopping pussy clamping down on him caused a lustful haze to cloud his mind, so he was barely able to choke out, "hurts?"
you nod meekly.
a shaky sigh huffs out of his nose, as he tries to deal with your gummy walls swallow the head of his cock. his eyes were fixated on where you two connect, your hips were quivering yet you had barely covered half of him. slick from your moist cunt seeped down the rest of his shaft that you had yet to take. "you don't have to." he reassured you, a big hand grazing over the silky skin of your stomach, then resting to the side of your tit while he idly thumbed your sensitive nipples.
"but i wanna." you whine, sinking down on his cock ever so slightly, but even taking a couple additional inches caused an intense abdominal pain, resulting in quiet sobs hiccupping from you. it burned and stained your body in such a delicious way. your hungry pussy gnawing at his cock was addicting, and even when it poked you in the most personal and irregular places you still couldn't get enough. in fact, it made you want to fit his whole length even more, because seeing stars is always the goal with wakatoshi.
ushijima swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat while he was admiring your pretty pussy graciously accepting more of his cock. "my beautiful girl.." he cooed at you, paying close attention to the way your face twisted in pain as you sunk further down, fighting to reach the base, although you were getting closer.
more lubricant would've been useful, perhaps it would've got you started quicker like it usually does but a small part of him enjoyed you watching you struggle a bit; it's a display of how devoted you are. "do it." he grunted.
motivated by his firm command, you keep pushing down on his cock, no matter how tough it may be. your eyes are squeezed shut and your husband's strong hand cradles your ass just as you finally made it down to his base. your breathing is already heavy so you pause for catch your breath and marinate in the sensation of his cock brushing your cervix and visibly protruding from your lower stomach.
during this time, ushijima's clutch slipping from your ass, over your folds until he was rigorously palming your throbbing clit. you recoil a bit from his arousing touch, and grumble, "arms.." referring to preserving strength for tomorrow's match.
begrudgingly, he took his hand away. a whole night of sex without putting effort into pleasuring you didn't feel right to ushijima. the way he showed affection and that he cares about you is by rubbing that puffy clit, or letting you lie down while he stood at the end of the bed and ramming into you from behind, not stopping until he had you creaming all over his fat cock. so refraining from pleasing you didn't come naturally to him.
but he must not realise the effect his dick alone has you, especially without much lube — the friction of him dragging against your clammy insides was enough to have you teetering on your first orgasm already.
once you were ready, you braced yourself by placing your hands on his chest and used your knees and arms to supports you while you slid up his length. your insides freeing from his congestion was a relief yet simultaneously so empty, it's as though you craved it as soon as each inch withdrew from you.
"gah!— toshi, feels.." your words get lost in a chorus of your own staggered moans, "s' good."
wakatoshi normally wasn't very vocal in bed at all, so it was very telling that the combination of your tight pussy and unintentional dirty-talk already had him grunting and moaning shallowly under his breath.
as he watched you lift yourself up, he pet your leg soothingly, "that's right, princess— hnn—" he caught himself and clenched his jaw before an unwelcome noise left him, "keep going."
soon you were able to build momentum and start riding him properly. it took a moment to develop a suitable rhythm and to stop your yourself from wincing every time you sunk down on him, but once your hole built more slicker and wetter, it became easier.
it's not long before you're able to glide up and down his shaft with relative ease, whimpers bubbling in your throat from the luxurious satisfaction. at first you went steady, purposefully to savour each and every delicious inch of your well endowed husband.
going at your own rate and slowly bobbing on his cock was practical for you — enough stimulation to have your knees weak already. but your unrushed method wasn't doing it for him. not to say he wasn't entirely entranced by the way your pussy devours him and rubs against his raw flesh, but he need more of you in order to cum. he wants you to be bouncing on his dick until he's completely fucked your brains out and you've milked him dry.
"(y/n)." he states, while you were leaned forward, with your arms holding yourself upright on his chest while your hips got to work in rocking against him. your head hung low because you were concentrated on riding him, and your hair partially fell into your face.
but upon hearing his stern voice, you garner enough strength to lift your head to meet his molten brown eyes. he smiles at the lewd expression painted on your face; it served as a nice reminder that even a dribble of his cock was enough to drive you mad with bliss. he could tell by your watery eyes and your flickering grin that you fucking loved it.
"(y/n)." he repeats your name, though it's more breathy this time and he glances at the place where the two of you connect when he says it then, before he looks back at you expectantly. and of course, you know exactly what to you do.
you let out a deep sigh, drop your head and hope for the best — using your knees and hips to push yourself upwards so you can drop back down onto him at a heightened pace. every time his dick pierced into you, there was a meaty stretch of your walls — a salacious ache that you never could comprehend because as soon as you experienced it, you'd immediately shoot off his cock, then sink back down onto it, over and over again.
you didn't understand what you were feeling down there but you knew for certain was good. your back arched into the filthy euphoria and moans were spilling from you like a flood. "ngh— fuck! stop.." you whine, despite how you were responsible for the sharp jolts of electricity shooting through you; and you were the one hungrily bouncing on his cock like a desperate slut. impaling yourself with his length until your legs were shuddering beneath you.
when it got so fast, the riding became sloppy, you'd hardly touch the base before you'd pull yourself up. likewise, you'd rarely reach the tip before sinking down again. but you were just too eager to pay attention to these small details. alas your movements are no longer deliberate and every buck of your hips is senseless and fuelled by pure lust and hedonism.
it got harder when you could feel your orgasm impending. the pulsing in your abdomen wracking through your entire body, tingling and making it difficult for you to keep bobbing on his cock when your stomach was on the verge of exploding and your legs were ready to give out under you.
but ushijima's intense glare on your exposed, shaking figure brought you motivation to persevere. as well as his protective hands that stroked your trembling thighs, while gazing at you with adoration and desire. he wasn't a man of many words but the way he looked at you spoke a thousand.
and these sappy eyes only faltered when your walls clenching around his dick eventually led to him being knocked over the edge and spilling his first orgasm all into your homey cunt. a raspy groan was torn out of him and his eyes flutter close while his seed pump through your insides; the thick warmth spreading through your core caused your eyes to twist shut, and force of his load pushed you off his cock.
he had made a vulgar mess of his precious girl, your little hole was dripping with cum. to be stuffed with your husband's fluid love was so filling yet comforting — and you were truly stuffed, the volume of his load replacing the mass of his cock. "thank you, babe.." you pant, head still spinning from your frantic bouncing.
"thank you." he corrected, eyes trained on you still sitting atop his flaccid cock, but it hardened with every passing second, at the sight of your pert nipples teasing him as your chest rose and fell, or your pretty lips he longed to kiss passionately. "two rounds is hard-work, dear. i'm impressed."
perhaps you were just to fucked out to count. still, you gulp to clear your dry throat and splutter, "two?"
"yes." ushijima confirmed. though strand of his hair still clung to his shining cheeks and forehead, he seemed to have overcome the post-orgasmic exhaustion already. "so there's one more left."
you groan. you should've expected this considering usually ushijima can go for upwards of four rounds, but it's different when you are doing all the work. "but 'm tired!"
"two ejaculations are recommended to get rid of all the stress." he explains, but from how you wearily hang your head and you're quick breaths, he could tell you weren't listening.
"one more, (y/n)."
"but toshi!.." you whine in retaliation.
"yes, my angel?"
you narrow your eyes at him and although he wears that big, dumb look on his face you tell he knows what he is doing. he is aware of the effect those cute nicknames have on you, especially in his deep, husky voice. how can you refuse? plus a small part of you wants to keep going anyway, and not stop until you forget your own name,
you huff out your nose and lift your hips over his tip once more — which has already fully stiffened — then abruptly drop them, taking his big length in one swift gulp. one that caused you to recoil and squeal, and even wakatoshi to gasp slightly at being enveloped by your tight insides again so fast.
it's easier to fit him this time because your hole is already drenched with his cum and your own, but his dick was still as big as it was a minute ago, and it still strained your walls— having to contort beyond their means to accommodate his girth. " toshi, shhuh.. shit— too big!" you whimper.
"not for my girl." he grunts, a firm grip on the fat of your thigh while you frantically ride him, "make it fit."
"mph, mkay.." your knuckles white as you hold onto his shirt for dear life, mustering every ounce of energy you have to keep thrusting yourself up and down on your husband's mighty cock, but every part of you gave away your exhaustion: beads of sweat budding on your forehead, shaking muscles and rapid breaths.
ushijima could tell you were struggling and that only egged him even closer orgasm. though he was kind enough to offer you some grunts of reassurance between moans. "my perfect girl, go on.."
there were moments when then the bursts of pleasure were drowned out by the futility of repeatedly bouncing on his stubborn erection but you persisted, even when your legs had virtually gone numb and your sore pussy was still being rammed into.
"can't.." you whimper, your knees now beginning to wobble with each bounce, making your position unstable until wakatoshi steadied you by the ass.
"so tight, princess. i need you to." he grits, grabbing your ass to aid you in your staggered movements, guiding you up and down on his soiled length but even then, your aching legs prevented you from riding with any real vigour, "i'm close."
despite his encouragement, you couldn't find the strength to continue and your hips gradually decreased in ferocity until you lay dejected against his chest, feebly bucking your hips while his cock stirred inside your sticky walls.
you mutters all sorts of slurred gibberish that resembled 'sorry', with your face pressed against his chest as he rubbed comforting circles on your back.
"don't be sorry." he says, hands fixing themselves to your hips, "you're still going to help me, angel."
with his tight grip on your hips, he lifts you as though you're weightless and pushes you back down his length, all the way to base which makes you shiver as his tip intrudes your cervix. initially shocked, you gape at the determines look on your husband's face as he uses your weak body as his own little fucktoy, slamming you down on his cock over and over. but it doesn't take long for you to melt into the atmosphere and get turned on by the way he manhandles you, treating you like his personal property.
the power his strong hands hold over you is indescribable. his dick ploughs into your sopping hole at an ungodly pace — so fast and rough your tits shook and it left your limb neck nodding along with each bounce. yet all you could focus on his cock stretching out your insides, hitting all the right spots on your sensitive walls.
your hair thrashed about too, with every violent snap of ushijima's arms, and it wasn't long before the heat pooling at your core came gushing out. "tosh— hhn— 'm comi—" the words couldn't even form on your tongue completely before they were crushed and swept away in a flood of melodious moans and sobs.
as you climaxed, your back arched into him and your coated walls began to convulse around his brimming cock, which served as the catalyst to him shooting his second load into your already filthy pussy.
your tight cunt wrung him dry for every last drop, and even through his high, he held you through yours, as you twitched and screamed with pleasure in his arms from the most overwhelming and satisfying orgasm of your life. he kept you close, wrestling against his own muffled moans — they were hard to suppress when your hole clamped down on him like it never wanted to let go.
soon, the intensity had faded, and you were left lying on his chest, enjoying each other's embrace and listening to each other's heartbeat while he was buried inside you. once you both found your bearings, he looked to you for approval before easing you off his cock.
you hissed at first; the feeling of emptiness had become so oddly foreign to you. and it stung a little but it was so unbelievably worth it.
"thank you, (y/n)." wakatoshi mutters against your forehead, tickling you a bit, "i'm proud of you, and grateful to have you as my wife."
"i'm grateful for you too, wakatoshi." you muse, mind still a bit hazy, "proud of me for what?"
"for lasting so long. that must have been a lot of effort."
you scoff, idly tracing hearts on his chest with your finger, "yeah, right. i didn't even make it through the whole thing, you literally had to carry me at the end."
"that's because you're not used to it." he explains kindly, as he shifts his hand to take yours, stroking the back of it with his thumb, "but it's okay. you will receive plenty of training when we go home."
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
BONUS
tw// oral (receiving)
the whole arena erupted into cheers when japan scored the final point against argentina and won the match! the audience were screaming and the players were all doing celebrations of their own — the atmosphere was simply electric and joyus.
from the stands, you looked at your boyfriend who was standing on the court, staring back at you with a cute little smile on his face. or at least, that's what it looked like from where you were sitting, so you blew him a kiss.
you later realised that it was probably a devious smirk, as that was the moment when the ejacultion hypothesis was confirmed, and he was probably thinking about the new pre-game ritual that had been established.
it's useful though. think of it like this: whenever he has a match, you also get some training!
but of course, you would only agree to take part in this 'pre-game ritual' if certain criteria were met. meaning that after every game, ushijima has to dick you down good and bury his head between your legs, eating you out for minimum ten minutes (twenty if he wins).
#ushijima smut#ushijima x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!! smut#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima imagine#haikyuu ushijima#wakatoshi x reader#ushiwaka x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu time skip
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[APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES! PT.1]
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎
🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!
Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).
As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.
"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of
You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.
Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."
You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.
Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."
You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...
Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"
Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.
While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.
While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.
You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.
Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?
Wait what?
"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.
You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"
Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.
APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.
Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.
Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."
Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...
A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"
Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.
The best chocolates for sex in 2023!
Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!
Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.
You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"
You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.
Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.
You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.
To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.
Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).
Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.
But all goods things must come to an end.
Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.
With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"
A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.
His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.
Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.
Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.
In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..
"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.
You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"
In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.
You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.
A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.
Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.
Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.
His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.
You had completely lost yourself.
Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.
Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.
You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.
Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.
You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.
Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.
Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."
You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.
You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.
He was distracting you.
"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."
Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.
You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."
"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.
His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"
You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"
The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."
"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.
"Yep! Precisely."
Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.
His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.
You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."
Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.
His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.
Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."
"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.
Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.
Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.
He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.
You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.
Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...
"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.
But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...
Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.
You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.
Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"
Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.
"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.
For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.
You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.
"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.
"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."
You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.
"Oh..."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#mickyschumacher#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri smut#formua one smut
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I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was
(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)
Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.
My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.
So I did.
Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.
If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.
Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?
That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.
The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.
***
After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.
A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.
See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.
Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.
*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.
#autobiographical post#publishing in decades past#death mention tw#harry potter mention#fantasy for kids#I disliked it before it was problematic#edited: typo corrected
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What kind of bubble is AI?

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:
https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/
Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.
Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.
Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.
AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.
So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means
But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.
Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).
Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).
Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.
These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money
Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html
The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.
What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop
The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/
But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.
Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.
The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.
If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:
https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509
These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.
Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.
These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).
So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.
But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.
This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space
But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
--
tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
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NOT JUST A FANGIRL

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
scenario: your roommates finding out the hero in your posters, the one you seemingly clearly idolized so much was actually your man.

life in college was pretty tame aside from the occasional meltdowns on assignments, late nights studies for tests, pressuring presentations, and more than strict professors. plus the existential dread in addition to whatever else it may be but really it all came down to just getting it done and coasting through the days just like everybody else.
though in your opinion everything would have been ten times harder without your surfeit amount of dynamight posters on the wall, hanging mini explosion keychains on your bag, and chibi magnets of your boyfriend wearing a rather evil grin stuck on the fridge.
you were glad your roomies didn’t mind your obsession being splattered all over the place but you just couldn’t help it. anytime you came across any kind of merch of his whether it be official or not anywhere online or in physical stores you just had to get your hands on them no matter what. one of your favorites was even a derpy looking grenade one that definitely did not come out right from the factory, yet you kept it because he was so cute. so so cute.
so, yeah to them it only looked like you were a fan, a massive one at that of the great explosion god murder dynamight and well it’s true so you didn’t bother correcting them. though you should’ve added that he was also your boyfriend.
just to y’know save them from the hospitalizating whiplash of seeing the six foot, top five hero, villain fearing, three time champion in a row bachelor of the year and probably even more to be listed, sitting at their sofa that definitely was too small for the hulking hero’s figure.
“who are you?” he gruffly asked barely glancing at the two as his arms layed lax behind the soft cushioned seats, feet kicked back as if he owned the place.
“we live here??” one of them hesitantly answered, both feeling kinda interrogated as if they were the one’s stepping out of line.
before anyone could get another word you graciously popped up from the unlocked door.
“oh you guys are here?” you asked in surprise since they don’t usually end at this time.
but neither had answered you, too busy staring at something or rather someone. a blonde ruby eyed man named—
“kats!” you called out excitedly after seeing him rise up from his seat, still in his hero uniform.
“THAT’S KATS??!!” the stilled girl asked in shock as your other roomie physically left the earth as their ghost spiritually ascends to the heavens.
because damn all this time the “sweet” guy you’ve been yapping about was the infamous dynamight. the pro hero known for having an explosive attitude towards the paparazzi and actually quite literally everyone. they never realized that the guy you were always in a call with at some point in the day without fail was him of all people.
“he’s you’re boyfriend?!!!!” she queries in absolute confusion as you greeted bakugou who returns with his own bear hug.
“yeah!”
“you said he was cute!????”
“mhm!! isn’t he adorable?” you nodded with a smile.
she turned to check what you might be seeing, only to find him already staring at her in agitation like they were interrupting something precious and they should therefore cease to exist. in contrast to your beaming grin of unawareness.
“w-well we actually have to go somewhere.” she mumbled trying to reason a way out.
“what— but you just got here right? c’mon it’s perfect! you two can finally meet him.”
“no! no, it’s— the…uhhh our teacher just sent a message and she’s actually here today so we gotta head back!” she hurried nervously, viciously shaking her head and then spilling a bunch of other half baked excuses before dragging your other friend with her out as well since she was still passed out on the floor, quickly shutting the door with a slam.
“wow, she wasn’t even holding her phone. maybe she has two quirks right?” you joked as he leaned into your neck in agreement, letting out a satisfied hum from getting what he wanted.
however you thought he might’ve felt insulted so you reassured him patting his hair gently as the soft spikes puffed out from his gear.
“they really wanted to meet you though, promise.”
“s’ fine. only wanted you anyway.” he voiced, pushing his face deeper in your neck as you shyly leaned away slightly.
“that’s a bit…”
“don’t act all shy, I’ve been inside of you.”
“okay—“

©windyremedy
#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugo x reader#remfics☁️
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Oh I've got a fun idea for a unique way to do a story: it's a fictional wiki page documenting the discoveries of a group of reverse engineers trying to figure out how to hack demons. They've got an API to make contracts with demons.
They've figured out to cast spells out of magical code stored in the blockchain (because of course it's a block chain, it's hell)
There's a list of spells people have found, with comments on what they might do, reports on experimentation, and attempts to decode the "source".
Like there's a subsection with a name that won't render properly because you don't have the proper demonic fonts installed, but it's got the reporting name "shinigami eyes". It's a simple divination spell, so called because it makes numbers appear over the heads of people.
They've got a home-patched version to switch it to arabic numerals for the non-hackery who can't read demonic numerals (they're base 6, of course), and they've been slowly brute forcing the different stats they can query.
The first success was a number that represents the number of days it's been since you've visited a library. Apparently that's one of the statistics stored in your the soul! And weirdly, it counts down? The spell has to query the per-person LIBRARY_THRESHOLD and then subtract from it the LIBRARY_CURRENT to get the displayed count.
It could even be real wiki: keep expanding it by adding additional pages for in-universe discoveries, like... the time they figured out how you can get test animals to cast spells from their own soul (which, being without original sin, have effectively infinite reserves).
P. S. Okay that one got me so I can't end here: they have a list of animals it doesn't work with. The implication being that some animals DO have original sin, and even better yet: these hellhackers only figured that out by accidentally selling a horse's soul to Beelzebub.
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