#embedded system architecture

[raguram07-blogger]

Embedded Systems Demystified: Understanding their components and Uses

Embedded systems, the cornerstone of modern technology, are specialized computer systems designed to perform dedicated functions within a larger mechanical or electrical system. These systems, ranging from simple devices like digital watches to complex ones like the control systems in automobiles, are distinguished by their combination of hardware and software, optimized for specific applications. Unlike general-purpose computers that feature versatile processing units and memory for multiple tasks, embedded systems prioritize efficiency, including low power consumption and cost-effective performance, through the integration of microcontrollers, microprocessors, and real-time operating systems (RTOS).

As the backbone of countless applications across various industries, including telecommunications, automotive, medical devices, and even the Internet of Things (IoT), embedded systems play a pivotal role in the evolution of technology. This article delves into the core components that define these systems, such as microprocessors, application software, and printed circuit boards, while exploring their architecture, design principles, and practical applications. It also addresses the challenges in designing these intricate systems, from debugging to customization, and casts a glance at recent advancements and future directions, highlighting how integrated circuits, the 8051 microcontroller, and embedded C programming continue to shape the landscape of embedded systems.

Core Components of Embedded Systems

Embedded systems are integral to numerous devices, functioning through a complex interplay of hardware, software, and real-time operational protocols. Here we break down the essential components that form the backbone of these systems.

Hardware Components

Processor Types: At the heart of every embedded system is a processor, which can be a microprocessor or a microcontroller. Microcontrollers integrate memory and peripheral interfaces, making them ideal for specific control- oriented applications. Conversely, microprocessors require separate integrated circuits for memory and peripherals, offering more flexibility but at a complexity cost.

Memory: Embedded systems utilize two primary types of memory: RAM (volatile) and ROM (non-volatile). The ROM stores permanent instructions for the system, while RAM facilitates the ongoing operations.

Power Supply: Essential for operation, the power supply can be standalone or integrated into a larger system, depending on the design requirements.

Input/Output Ports: These ports are crucial for the system’s interaction with external devices, enabling data transmission through various communication protocols like UART, SPI, and USB.

Software Components

Real-Time Operating System (RTOS): This software manages the hardware resources of embedded systems, optimized for real-time applications. It ensures tasks are completed within strict timing constraints, crucial for applications like medical systems and automotive controls.

Application Software: Tailored to the specific functionalities of the embedded device, this software directly manages device operations and user interactions.

Device Drivers: These software components allow the operating system to interact with the hardware.

Development Tools

Compilers and Assemblers: These tools translate high-level code into machine language that processors can execute. While compilers handle languages like C and C++, assemblers are used for assembly language.

Debuggers and Emulators: Essential for testing, these tools help developers debug the code and emulate hardware operations, ensuring software reliability before deployment.

Integration Technologies

System on Chip (SoC): Integrating all components onto a single microchip, SoC technology simplifies design and enhances performance while reducing power consumption and cost.

Multicore Processing: Allows parallel processing capabilities, enhancing performance and efficiency, particularly in complex applications.

By understanding these core components and their interactions, developers can design more efficient and effective embedded systems, tailored to specific needs and environments.

Design Principles and Architecture

Embedded systems are engineered with specific design principles and architectural frameworks to meet unique operational demands. This section outlines the essential design principles and architectural styles that govern the development of embedded systems.

Key Design Principles

Single-functioned Operation: Each embedded system is developed to perform a specific function, enhancing its efficiency and reliability.

Reactivity and Real-time Operation: These systems are designed to respond to changes in their environment in real- time, a critical feature for applications such as automotive airbag deployment.

Tight Integration of Hardware and Software: Hardware components and application software are closely integrated to optimize performance and reduce power consumption.

Customizability and Flexibility: The architecture allows customization, making embedded systems adaptable to varied requirements.

Low Power Consumption: Design strategies prioritize energy efficiency to extend the life of the system, especially in battery-operated devices.

Compact Size and Cost-Effectiveness: Systems are designed to be small and cost-effective, without compromising on functionality.

Architectural Styles

Embedded systems architecture can be segmented into two primary types:

Harvard Architecture: Separates data and instruction memory, allowing simultaneous data access that speeds up operations

Von Neumann Architecture: Uses a single memory for data and instructions, simplifying the design but potentially slowing the system due to the shared memory

Design Approaches and Considerations

System on Chip (SoC) and Multicore Processing: These technologies integrate multiple components into a singlechip, reducing size and improving performance

Reconfigurable Computing: Offers the flexibility to alter the configuration of the hardware as per changing requirements without halting the system

Design for Manufacturing (DFM): Focuses on designing products that are easier to manufacture, enhancing scalability and reducing costs

Challenges in Design and Architecture

Component Selection and System Integration: Selecting appropriate components that match the system's requirements and ensuring seamless integration pose significant challenges.

Software-Hardware Interface: Designing an effective interface between the software applications and the hardware components is crucial for the optimal functioning of embedded systems.

Heat Dissipation and Environmental Hazards: Special attention is given to managing heat and protecting the system from environmental damages like electrostatic discharge (ESD) and electromagnetic interference (EMI)

By adhering to these principles and considering the outlined architectural styles, designers can create robust, efficient, and reliable embedded systems tailored to specific applications and environments.

Applications Across Industries

Embedded systems have revolutionized operations across a vast array of industries by performing specialized tasks within numerous devices. These systems are integral to technologies ranging from consumer electronics to advanced industrial machinery. Below is an overview of the diverse applications of embedded systems across various sectors:

Automotive Industry

Safety Mechanisms: Embedded systems enhance vehicle safety through features like airbags and anti-lock braking systems.

Navigation and Infotainment: Manage GPS systems and multimedia functions, improving user experience and vehicle functionality.

Vehicle Performance: Control engine systems, monitor vehicle diagnostics, and optimize fuel efficiency.

Medical Devices

Diagnostic Equipment: Embedded systems are crucial in devices that monitor heart rates, glucose levels, and blood pressure.

Treatment Devices: Regulate and administer treatments through advanced drug delivery systems and therapeutic devices.

Wearable Health Monitors: Track health metrics such as physical activity, heart rate, and sleep patterns, providing insights and alerts.

Consumer Electronics

Smartphones and Tablets: Manage core functions including user interface, connectivity, and multimedia processing.

Home Automation: Control systems for lighting, security, and HVAC, enhancing comfort and energy efficiency.

Wearable Technology: Smartwatches and fitness trackers that monitor physical activities and health metrics.

Industrial Automation

Manufacturing: Automate tasks such as assembly lines, quality control, and inventory management, increasing efficiency and safety.

Process Control: Monitor and control industrial processes like chemical reactions and machine operations to ensure optimal performance.

Robotics: Embedded systems guide robotic mechanisms used in manufacturing, warehousing, and material handling.

Aerospace and Defense

Aircraft Systems: Control navigation, communication, and engine management systems in aircraft.

Surveillance and Reconnaissance: Embedded systems play a key role in unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) for surveillance and data collection.

Mission-Critical Systems: Manage life-support and operational systems in spacecraft and military equipment.

Telecommunications

Network Equipment: Embedded systems are used in routers, switches, and modems to manage data flow and connectivity.

Mobile Communication: Enable smartphones and other portable devices to connect and communicate efficiently.

Satellite Systems: Control satellite operations and data transmission, crucial for global communication networks.

Energy Sector

Smart Grid Technology: Manage the distribution and efficient use of electricity through real-time monitoring and control systems.

Renewable Energy Systems: Control operations in solar panels and wind turbines, optimizing energy production.

Utility Management: Monitor energy consumption, improve system reliability, and facilitate maintenance and repairs.

Embedded systems' adaptability allows them to be customized for specific tasks in these industries, leading to innovations that enhance functionality, safety, and efficiency. Their integration into various devices and machinery has become a cornerstone of technological advancement, influencing how industries evolve and operate.

Challenges in Embedded System Design

Embedded system design faces several challenges that impact the efficiency and security of these technologies. Understanding these challenges is crucial for developers to enhance system performance and reliability.

Debugging and Testing

Debugging Process: Debugging embedded systems typically requires attaching a separate debugging system to the target system via a serial or other port. This setup allows programmers to view and manage the source code from a general-purpose computer, which can be cumbersome and time-consuming.

Testing Protocols: Testing printed circuit boards (PCBs) is conducted at each development phase. Custom testing firmware is created to verify if the PCB functions as expected, demanding meticulous attention to detail and extensive validation procedures.

Security Enhancements

Increasing Security Measures: With the rise of connected devices, security has become a paramount concern. Embedded system designers are now integrating robust security features such as hardware-based security, secure boot procedures, and advanced encryption algorithms to safeguard against breaches.

Cybersecurity Solutions: Developing effective cybersecurity solutions is essential to address vulnerabilities in embedded systems, particularly for Internet of Things (IoT) devices and industries previously lax in security measures.

Software and Hardware Integration

Selection of Programming Language: The choice between C++ and Rust is significant in embedded device programming. Rust offers a memory safety model that enhances security, presenting a compelling alternative to the traditionally used C++ in embedded systems.

Component Selection: The technical proposal phase involves selecting components based on technical characteristics, operating environment, cost, quality, and availability. This balance between cost and performance is critical in determining the overall effectiveness of the embedded system solution.

Project Development Challenges

Requirements Gathering: Conducting thorough interviews with clients to formulate precise requirements for their products is a foundational step in project development.

Offering Alternatives: Providing feasible alternatives during the planning phase ensures that the final product meets the client's needs while adhering to technical and budgetary constraints.

By addressing these challenges through strategic planning and implementation, developers can significantly enhance the performance and security of embedded systems, ensuring they meet the rigorous demands of modern technology applications.

Recent Advances and Future Directions

Embedded systems are continuously evolving, driven by technological advancements and increasing demands across various sectors. This section explores recent innovations and the anticipated future trends in embedded system technology.

Technological Innovations and Trends

AI and Machine Learning: Integration of AI and machine learning in embedded systems has enabled devices to make intelligent decisions and adapt to their environments effectively. This trend is enhancing the capabilities of devices in real-time processing and decision-making.

Edge Computing: By processing data closer to the source of data generation, edge computing minimizes latency and reduces the reliance on constant internet connectivity, thereby enhancing the efficiency of embedded systems.

Advanced Connectivity Solutions: Developments in wireless technologies such as 5G, Wi-Fi 6 and 6E, and Bluetooth LE Audio are revolutionizing how embedded systems communicate and interact, enabling faster and more reliable connections.

Focus on Sustainability and Efficiency

Energy-Efficient Design: With sustainability as a priority, there is a significant shift towards developing low-power embedded systems using advanced power management technologies and energy harvesting techniques

Green Technology: The integration of environmentally friendly practices in the design and deployment of embedded systems is becoming increasingly important

Security and Quality Enhancements

Software Quality: Strengthening the software quality through rigorous testing and adherence to high standards is essential to ensure the reliability and performance of embedded systems

Cybersecurity Measures: As embedded systems become more interconnected, the implementation of robust cybersecurity measures to protect against potential threats and vulnerabilities is crucial

Market Growth and Economic Impact

Market Expansion: The embedded systems market is projected to grow significantly, driven by its applications in AI, mobile computing, and sophisticated processing technologies.

Economic Contributions: As a pivotal element of modern technological solutions, embedded systems are contributing substantially to economic growth and innovation across industries

Future Directions

Quantum Computing: Looking ahead, quantum computing holds the potential to exponentially increase the processing power of embedded systems, opening new avenues for data analysis and decision-making

Open-Source Collaboration: The trend towards open-source hardware and software is fostering greater innovation and collaboration within the embedded systems community

Embedded systems are set to become even more integral to technological progress, with advancements in AI, security, and sustainable practices leading the way. The continuous evolution in this field promises to bring more sophisticated, efficient, and secure embedded solutions to the forefront of technology.

Conclusion

Throughout this exploration of embedded systems, we have journeyed through the intricate balance of hardware and software components, design principles, and the architectural frameworks that underpin these fundamental technology elements.

The discussion highlighted not only the core components and their critical roles but also the current challenges in design and security, underscoring the continuous innovation required to advance in this fast-paced domain. By delving into the varied applications across multiple industries—from automotive to telecommunications and beyond—we've seen how embedded systems function as the linchpins of modern technological infrastructure, driving progress and efficiency at an unprecedented scale.

Looking forward, the future of embedded systems appears boundless, fueled by advancements in AI, machine learning, and edge computing, alongside a growing emphasis on sustainability and cybersecurity. These evolving trends not only promise to expand the capabilities of embedded systems but also underscore the significant economic and societal impact these technologies continue to wield. As we anticipate further breakthroughs, the dialogue around embedded systems will undoubtedly advance, highlighting the imperative for ongoing research, development, and collaboration to harness these powerful tools in the push towards a more innovative and interconnected world.

[zekatix]

Why Choose IoT Architecture Courses for Embedded Systems?

When we consider the rapid advancements in technology, it’s clear that IoT architecture courses for embedded systems present a compelling opportunity for us all. These courses not only enhance our understanding of crucial components like gateways and cloud services but also sharpen our problem-solving skills through practical applications. By engaging in such programs, we position ourselves at the forefront of a sector that’s increasingly focused on automation and data-driven solutions. But what specific career advantages can we expect, and how do these skills translate into real-world applications?

Benefits of IoT Architecture Courses

Gaining expertise in IoT architecture courses offers us a multitude of benefits that are crucial in today’s tech-driven world. These courses equip us with essential skills needed to navigate the complexities of embedded systems and IoT integration. By understanding key components like internet gateways, edge IoT, and cloud services, we enhance our ability to design effective solutions tailored to diverse applications.

As we dive into the layers of IoT architecture, we learn to leverage the perception, network, and application layers, ensuring that our systems gather, process, and deliver data efficiently. This knowledge empowers us to create intelligent, connection-aware frameworks that enhance interaction among various IoT components.

Moreover, these courses prepare us to meet the demands of a rapidly evolving industry, enabling us to drive technological advancements. We gain insights into data integration, which combats fragmentation and promotes synergy between devices.

With a strong foundation in IoT architecture, we position ourselves as valuable assets in any organization, capable of facilitating automation and informed decision-making. Overall, pursuing IoT architecture courses opens doors to new opportunities and equips us with the tools to succeed in a connected world.

Enhancing Problem-Solving Skills

Enhancing our problem-solving skills is a crucial aspect of participating in IoT architecture courses, as these programs challenge us to tackle complex scenarios through innovative thinking. By engaging with hands-on projects that simulate real-world situations, we develop the ability to analyze problems, brainstorm solutions, and implement effective strategies.

The curriculum emphasizes microcontroller programming and sensor integration, pushing us to think critically and creatively about how to design and optimize embedded systems. Our learning experiences are directly tied to industry-relevant skills, ensuring we’re equipped to address the technological challenges we’ll encounter in our careers.

Additionally, the hybrid learning model allows us to balance theoretical knowledge with practical application, reinforcing our problem-solving abilities. Working with tools like Arduino and Raspberry Pi, we gain firsthand experience in troubleshooting and refining our designs.

Ultimately, these courses cultivate a mindset of innovation and resilience, preparing us to approach problems with confidence. As we enhance our skills, we not only position ourselves for personal growth but also contribute to the development of impactful IoT solutions that can transform industries and improve lives.

Real-World Applications of IoT

As we refine our problem-solving skills in IoT architecture courses, we also discover the vast range of real-world applications that IoT technology offers. One of the most impactful areas is healthcare, where wearable devices allow for remote monitoring of patients, leading to personalized treatment plans and reduced hospital stays.

In our homes, IoT enhances convenience and security, enabling us to control lighting, climate, and security systems remotely while optimizing energy use.

Industrial applications also thrive on IoT, as data analysis and sensors increase operational efficiency and minimize downtime. Smart cities benefit from IoT solutions, improving traffic management and waste disposal while promoting sustainable living.

In agriculture, IoT facilitates precise monitoring of crops and livestock, leading to better resource management. Transportation and logistics see significant advancements through IoT, with real-time data improving route planning and vehicle diagnostics.

Each of these applications not only enhances our daily lives but also underscores the critical role of IoT in shaping modern society. As we dive deeper into these applications, we’re better equipped to innovate and drive meaningful change in various sectors.

Career Opportunities in IoT

The world of IoT is brimming with career opportunities that promise not just competitive salaries but also a chance to shape the future of technology. Many roles in this dynamic field typically offer salaries exceeding annually, making it an attractive option for those looking to advance their careers.

Key positions include IoT Security Engineers, who focus on safeguarding systems against breaches, and Embedded Engineers, responsible for developing software for devices like sensors and microprocessors.

We can also aim for roles such as Platform Developers, Architects, and even Chief IoT Officers (CIoTO), who oversee interdepartmental collaboration and market strategies.

As industries increasingly adopt IoT solutions, the demand for skilled professionals continues to grow. Pursuing certifications in IoT-related fields and staying updated with industry trends can significantly enhance our employability.

Networking within the IoT community can lead to job opportunities and collaborative projects, further expanding our career prospects.

With continuous learning and skill development, we can position ourselves for fulfilling careers in this rapidly evolving landscape. The potential to impact technology is immense, and dedicated professionals can thrive in both multinational corporations and innovative startups.

Future Trends in Embedded Systems

With the growing demand for skilled professionals in IoT, we can’t overlook the exciting future trends shaping embedded systems. The market for embedded systems is projected to surpass $173 billion by 2032, fueled by IoT and IIoT technologies. As we integrate more smart tech into our lives, the complexity of managing these systems will increase, requiring us to adapt continuously.

Here’s a quick look at some key trends:

These trends highlight the importance of staying informed and skilled in embedded systems. By choosing IoT architecture courses, we position ourselves to lead in this dynamic landscape, driving innovation and efficiency in our connected world.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why Are You Interested in Embedded Systems and Iot?

We’re fascinated by embedded systems and IoT because they merge innovation with practicality. Together, they empower us to create smarter solutions, enhancing efficiency and connectivity in everyday life, which drives our passion for this evolving field.

What Is the Role of Iot in Embedded Systems?

IoT’s role in embedded systems is pivotal; it enables devices to connect and communicate seamlessly. By integrating IoT, we enhance functionality, improve efficiency, and foster innovative solutions that drive technological advancements in our interconnected world.

Why Is Iot Architecture Important?

IoT architecture’s importance lies in its ability to enable seamless device communication, enhance scalability, and ensure security. By understanding it, we can develop efficient embedded systems that drive innovation across various industries and improve our connected world.

Why Is the Architecture of an Embedded System Important?

The architecture of an embedded system’s crucial for optimizing performance and ensuring efficient resource use. It impacts integration with IoT components, enabling reliable communication and real-time processing, which are vital in today’s connected applications.

Conclusion

In conclusion, choosing IoT architecture courses for embedded systems opens up a world of opportunities for us. Not only do we enhance our problem-solving skills and gain hands-on experience, but we also prepare ourselves for a thriving career in a rapidly evolving field. By staying ahead of future trends, we position ourselves as valuable assets in an increasingly data-driven world. Let’s embrace this journey and unlock our potential in the exciting realm of IoT!

Sign up for free courses  here.

Visit Zekatix for more  information.

[cumironi]

THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO GOJO’S D$CK. g.s

feat. gojo satoru

sum. what’s the best sex position ever? loud and clear you said missionary. the result? got called slut by shoko and dared by geto to fuck the stupidest man in the group, gojo satoru. and you, also the stupidest take the bait just to prove a point only to get the best missionary you’ve ever had. which, also got called slut by your friend.

wn. college au, all characters are adults (early 20s), depictions of alcohol and weed consumption, explicit sexual content including graphic foreplay and intercourse, strong language, sexual humor, slut-shaming jokes between friends, emotionally charged intimacy, consensual rough play (e.g. scratching, hickeys), praise-kink, bit dirty talk,

gojo’s basement was a whole ecosystem of indulgence, an architectural fuck-you to minimalism. the moment you stepped off the last step, it was like descending into a pleasure den disguised as a frat boy’s fever dream and a luxury showroom had a threesome with a tokyo nightlife bar and decided to never leave.

soft, dark lighting glowed along the edges of the ceiling, hiding in strips of LED that shifted color every few minutes—right now it was a moody wine red that made everyone look flushed and half-possessed. a speaker system was embedded into the walls, not blasting but thumping low enough to feel in your molars, something beat-heavy and spacey, rhythmic enough to keep your hips rocking even if you were only sitting. the walls were textured concrete, but with art—huge framed prints, some classical, some hentai, because gojo was a pretentious bitch and also a walking disaster.

it was sectioned in loose, chaotic zones. one end had a full bar, real wood counters, glass shelves, and an overhead mirror with LED backlight that made the various alcohol bottles sparkle like gemstones. there were no mixers—just hard liquor and gojo’s “personal stash” of imported shit that tasted like burnt syrup and regret. behind the bar, nanami stood like a reluctant bartender, sleeves rolled up, jaw tight, stirring something too elegant for this crowd. he’d lost rock-paper-scissors and now he was stuck mixing drinks with military precision, ignoring everyone yelling that they just wanted a whiskey coke with extra whiskey and no coke.

a few steps away, there was a billiards table, dark green felt, cue sticks leaned against the wall, and haibara trying to make a shot with his head resting on the cue, eyes squinting like a sniper but swaying like a drunk tree. geto and shoko were stretched on the oversized couch that curved around a low table cluttered with empty shot glasses, an open pizza box with one lonely crust, and the remnants of three joints passed back and forth. gojo had dragged over a bean bag chair and was currently lounging in it like royalty, shirt half unbuttoned, pale collarbones peeking out, sunglasses still on indoors, of course, because he said the lighting was “too aggressive.”

you were on the rug, thighs warm from the alcohol, back against the couch, in the exact perfect spot to feel everyone’s presence all at once—geto’s knee brushing yours every time he shifted, shoko’s lazy hand resting in your hair because she liked to play with it when she was high, gojo’s long leg stretched out so his bare foot kept nudging your ankle. the rug smelled like old perfume and weed and a little bit like someone spilled gin and didn’t clean it up, and honestly? it was perfect.

“i think,” gojo announced, gesturing with his drink, something neon blue in a martini glass, “we should all officially drop out.”

“again?” geto asked, one eyebrow raised as he exhaled smoke and passed you the blunt. “you say that every thursday,” you added, grinning as you took it, the burn sweet and sharp on your tongue.

“yeah but this time i mean it,” gojo said, rolling over onto his stomach like a bored cat, chin resting on his arms. “what’s even the point of college? knowledge? community? shared trauma?”

“you only show up to class to cheat off nanami,” shoko pointed out. “he has such neat handwriting,” gojo said with a dreamy sigh. nanami rolled his eyes. “because i don’t get high the night before a midterm and forget how pens work.”

“that was one time,” you mumbled through a cough, handing the joint off to utahime who looked scandalized but still took it.

“you cried,” geto added helpfully.

“it was a stressful exam,” you defended, but the laughter already drowned you out. even nanami cracked a tired smirk. “okay but like—” haibara missed his shot and collapsed dramatically over the pool table, face pressed into the felt “—real talk. if we all dropped out, what would we do? jobs don’t exist. go.”

“porn,” you said immediately.

gojo made a high-pitched noise like a choking dolphin. “you can’t just say that, baby.”

“i said it,” you grinned, shrugging. “onlyfans. but we make it elite. like art-house, black-and-white stuff.”

“you want to direct?” shoko asked, voice slow, eyes heavy-lidded. “or star?”

“both,” you said. “duh.”

“visionary,” geto murmured, passing you a new joint, already lit. you took it without question. “okay okay okay,” haibara said, still face-down, voice muffled into the table. “but if you had to teach one sex position. like, for beginners. what’s lesson one?”

“doggy,” nanami answered without blinking.

“perv,” gojo coughed.

“efficient,” nanami corrected.

“missionary,” geto said, tapping his ash into a tray. “eye contact, full penetration, kiss access. versatile. emotionally devastating.”

“you’re so romantic,” you teased.

he smirked. “always.”

“cowgirl,” shoko added, licking salt off her hand. “control. visuals. core workout.”

“you’re all cowards,” gojo said, sitting up now, eyes glinting. “nobody said reverse cowgirl.”

“that’s because you’re the only one who wants to get kneed in the stomach,” utahime muttered, taking another sip. “worth it,” gojo sighed, pressing his hand over his chest like he’d been touched by god. and then—he turned, sharp and sudden, and pointed directly at you, mouth curling in a smirk that was all teeth and trouble.

“what about you, pretty girl?”

your throat went dry. his voice was soft now, low, sliding under your skin like warm syrup. everyone else fell quiet. not waiting in judgment—just watching. geto leaned back. shoko raised one eyebrow. even nanami tilted his head like your answer might end a war.

“hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head, pretending to think even as your lips curled. “honestly? missionary. but only if you’re trying to ruin my life,” you add, casually, sipping whatever tragic cocktail you’d ended up with—mostly rum, mostly sugar, entirely chaos—and immediately regretted it, because the second the words left your mouth, the basement erupted. broke in a howl of laughter. shoko nearly dropped her drink. geto choked on his exhale. haibara clapped the table.

“LAME!” haibara shrieked like you’d just confessed to listening to elevator music during sex. “liar,” geto said flatly, but the smile tugging at his mouth made it impossible to take seriously.

“no fucking way,” shoko barked, already leaning over the armrest like she needed to look you directly in the soul. “no. you? miss i make eye contact while ordering food like it’s a come-on?”

you groaned, trying to disappear into your shirt. “shut uuuuup.”

“there is no way your favorite position is missionary,” she said, flicking your forehead with sharp precision. “get the fuck out of here. you’re not fooling anyone.”

“maybe i’m romantic,” you offered weakly, already bracing as the room devolved into shrieks again. gojo wheezed, flopping onto his back and kicking a throw pillow off the couch. “romantic she says. oh my god. oh my fucking god.”

“missionary my ass,” utahime added, kicking your shin lightly with her socked foot. “that’s like saying your favorite food is plain rice.”

“with butter!” you shouted defensively.

“shut the fuck up!” everyone howled in unison.

“full nelson,” shoko said immediately, stabbing her finger at you. “you’re into some demon shit. like tied up, folded in half, legs behind your ears—"

“—that’s not even anatomically possible for most people—” nanami muttered in the background, but no one was listening. “you give power bottom with a penchant for suffering,” geto added smoothly, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his hand like he was about to psychoanalyze your soul.

“stop profiling me,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “what if i just want soft sex? with love? with candles and eye contact and maybe a backhand to the cheek, but mostly like… romance.”

utahime gagged so hard it sounded real. “you’re disgusting.”

“i am romantic,” you insisted, chin raised, eyes defiant. “i want to be held. i want love.” shoko tossed a grape at your head. “you want to be held in a chokehold with your face pressed to the mattress.” you caught it in your mouth and chewed, flipping her off with flair. “maybe. but gently.”

gojo rolled back upright like a cartoon character, elbows resting on his knees, eyes gleaming under the dim lights. “i can do gently,” he said, voice low and syrup-sweet.

“no,” utahime said flatly.

“you don’t get to volunteer,” nanami said, not even looking up from whatever he was mixing now. gojo grinned and tilted his head toward you, his hand slowly sliding into the pocket of your hoodie, the one you were wearing. “but i wanna,” he said, and his voice dipped just enough to warm the pit of your stomach.

you elbowed him. “we’re still talking about metaphors.”

he smiled wider. “are we?”

shoko groaned. “i’m gonna throw something at both of you.”

geto passed her a half-empty beer can like a gentleman. “use this.”

“missionary,” shoko repeated again, like she couldn’t let it go, couldn’t accept it, couldn’t believe it even existed in your vocabulary as anything more than a punchline. she said it like a curse, her voice thick with smoke and judgment. “missionary. you absolute fucking liar.”

“i’m not lying!” you whined, but it came out with a stupid grin stretching your mouth because you knew—you knew—they were right to doubt you. “nah, you’re lying,” geto said, not even looking up from his delicate task of ash-flicking with the grace of a noble concubine. “you’re lying and you know it and we all know it. missionary. yeah right.”

gojo, who had been half-lying across your lap like a loyal, slutty dog, perked up at the confirmation. “she is lying,” he said, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “i’m hurt. betrayed. flabbergasted.”

utahime barked a laugh from the bean bag she’d stolen from nanami when he went to refill his drink. “missionary only if he’s choking you out and whispering dirty things about your future kids.”

“WHICH IS STILL VERY ROMANTIC,” you argued, throwing your hands up in pathetic defense. “not when it includes the words ‘breed you dumb,’” nanami said calmly from the bar. “YOU DON’T KNOW MY LIFE,” you screamed across the basement, as if that would help.

haibara was bent over wheezing, red in the face and tears in his eyes. “you—missionary—you’re the same bitch who moaned watching that fight scene in that one show—”

“he had his veins out and a chain around his neck, i was provoked!”

shoko pointed directly at you like she was driving a stake into your coffin. “you want missionary the same way a raccoon wants tap water. not cause it’s good, cause it’s easy access before you crawl into the sewer.”

“i am not a raccoon!”

“you are the racooniest,” geto said. “fucked-up little hands and all.”

gojo, smug and now fully reclined into your lap with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs kicking up a little in rhythm with the music, looked up at you upside down with that shit-eating grin. “no shame in liking missionary,” he said sweetly. “as long as it’s not the only thing you like.”

“oh no no no,” geto said, sitting up straighter now, attention focused, looking deadly and delighted. “you don’t get to backpedal now. no retreat. you committed.”

“i did not commit—”

“you’re committed. one hundred percent. missionary ride or die. all in.”

“you’re making it sound like a cult.”

“IT IS,” shoko yelled, throwing a handful of popcorn at your head that she’d stolen from god knows where. “missionary only when the moon is waxing, the candles are teal, and your playlist is all sad acoustic covers of 2000s bangers.”

“that sounds fucking dreamy actually,” you said, offended but also taking mental notes.

geto leaned over, narrowing his eyes, voice dipping low and daring, that teasing menace blooming in the corners of his mouth like sin: “then do it. with satoru. go full missionary. full eye contact. no jokes. no choking. no freaky shit. vanilla as fuck. and afterward—then tell us if it’s still your favorite.”

the room fell silent.

gojo sat up.

utahime choked on her drink.

shoko slapped her knee and screamed, “YES. YESSSS. YOU WON’T. DO IT. I DARE YOU. PUT YOUR LOVE WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS.”

“THAT IS NOT THE PHRASE,” you cried.

“IT IS NOW,” haibara shouted, fist in the air.

gojo was looking at you like you just became his favorite episode of a fucked-up reality show. slowly, slowly, he leaned in, blinking those pale lashes in mock innocence, like a predator trying to play sweet. “do you want me to hold your hand, princess?” he cooed, voice dragging over each syllable like it was rolling in honey and filth. “whisper how pretty you look while you say missionary is your favorite?”

you flailed, completely red, pressing your palm to his face and pushing him back with a groan. “shut uuuuuup, i hate you—”

“you love me,” he sang.

“you’ll love him more with his dick in you like an afterschool special,” shoko muttered, and you almost died.

“this is not how peer support groups work,” you whined.

“this is how our support group works,” geto corrected, cool as ice, brushing ash off his sleeve. “we support you… into making the worst decisions imaginable.”

“i hate this friend group.”

“you started it!” utahime yelled. “you could’ve said cowgirl and we would’ve moved on!”

“i wanted to be authentic!”

“authentic my ass,” nanami mumbled. “your idea of authentic includes handcuffs and a soundtrack.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.”

gojo grinned wider, tongue tucked behind his teeth, eyes narrow with mischief. “baby, you say one time, but your eyes are saying again.” you groaned, staring up at the string lights twinkling on the ceiling like they were your last remaining allies. “i hope you all choke on your weed.”

“romantic choking,” geto said.

“god is dead,” you muttered.

“he died in missionary,” shoko declared.

and the room screamed again.

the yelling hadn’t died down. it had evolved—evolved into a full-blown, unholy ritual, like you’d summoned something cursed just by saying “missionary” in this den of godless chaos. the music still thumped in the background—some bass-heavy beat vibrating low enough to shake the pool cues on the wall—but it was drowned beneath the choir of filthy voices rallying around your damnation.

“come onnnn,” haibara practically whined, dragging himself across the floor like a tragic little beast of pressure and peer influence. “just do it once. like, clinical trial shit. for science.”

“for data,” geto added solemnly, passing the joint back to you with all the pomp of a ceremonial dagger. “you know he’s down,” utahime said, gesturing lazily with her drink toward gojo. “he’s always down. satoru would do it with a smile on his face and his dick already out.”

“i’d do it with flowers,” gojo offered sweetly, chin in hand, smiling like the most deranged boy in a dating sim. “i’d put a little post-it on her hip that says you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

“you are a menace,” you groaned, tossing the joint in the ashtray, flopping your head against the back of the couch. “okay, but for real,” shoko cut in, snapping her fingers like a sitcom villain. “we have to settle this. you can’t keep saying that’s your favorite and then not test it with the absolute worst candidate.”

gojo lit up. “i’m honored.”

“he’s dumb as shit,” nanami added, calmly wiping the bar down with a cocktail napkin like he wasn’t verbally assassinating his friend. “there’s no way he can make it romantic. not even ironically.”

“he’d come while trying to say something nice and end up crying,” shoko muttered, lighting a cigarette like the world’s most beautiful disappointment. “he doesn’t even know how to look romantic,” geto chimed in, now entirely leaned back and smoking like he was watching live theater. “that man sends memes after sexting.”

“he once tried to dirty talk me by saying i looked like i had good knees,” utahime added. the room died.

“they were good knees,” gojo whined.

“SEE?” shoko shrieked, pointing wildly. “this is what we’re dealing with! that’s who she wants missionary with! that’s what she calls romance!”

you covered your face, weakly laughing into your hands. “you’re all insane.”

“and yet,” nanami said smoothly, pouring himself another drink, “you’ve fucked most of us.”

your head snapped up. “WHAT—”

“you have,” shoko agreed, nodding casually like she was reading a wine label. “it’s canon now.”

“absolutely,” geto said, exhaling smoke like a sexy devil. “you’ve whored your way through 70% of this friend group. missionary with gojo would be the least slutty thing you’ve done.”

“don’t slut-shame me while calling me a slut,” you groaned, laughing despite yourself. “slut is not derogatory here,” shoko said, patting your thigh. “it’s like saying you’re talented. you’re our slut. community slut. the people’s princess.”

“i’m gonna cry.”

“oh, so now you wanna act innocent?” nanami’s voice was ice in a cocktail glass. “not when you were drunk texting me ‘wanna ruin my future?’ at 2am last weekend.”

“i was having a moment!”

“you were also wearing gojo’s hoodie with no pants and humping a pillow,” geto said, eyes glittering like he kept this memory polished for personal use. you slapped your palms over your face again. “can’t a girl be romantic in peace?”

“not in this house,” utahime deadpanned. “but like,” gojo piped up, head now resting on your thigh again, completely unbothered, probably hard, absolutely thrilled, “they’ve got a point.”

you looked down at him, exhausted. “i swear to god, satoru—”

“no no, hear me out,” he said, holding up both hands like he was offering a legal defense. “i’ve seen you horny for nanami just cause he tied his tie right. i’ve seen you get wet over geto saying the word ‘problematic.’ you let shoko suck a bruise into your thigh because she was bored.”

“and that was her fault,” you pointed to shoko. “i was drunk and passive.”

“uh huh,” she hummed, mouth twitching.

“all i’m saying is,” gojo said, sitting up now, hands on your knees, looking up at you like a dog who just learned to beg, “if you’re gonna be a slut, be an honest slut. missionary with me. prove them wrong. show them you’re a woman of taste and tragedy.”

you stared at him, mouth parted, blinking.

“this is sexual peer pressure,” you mumbled.

“this is justice,” geto corrected.

“this is foreplay,” gojo whispered with a wink.

“i hate you all,” you grumbled, cheeks hot, lips twitching despite yourself.

“but you’ll do it?” haibara asked, eyes wide and dumb and so hopeful.

“maybe.”

“HA!” gojo shouted, launching a throw pillow at shoko. “that’s a yes!”

“that’s not a yes—”

“you heard her!” geto called, standing up to stretch like a smug, half-naked giraffe. “she agreed! and now we shall bear witness to the least romantic, most catastrophic missionary session ever.”

“you’re gonna be pinned to the mattress like a frog in biology class,” shoko said, wheezing. “gojo’s gonna forget to take off his socks,” utahime muttered, disgusted. “you know i have those toe socks,” he said proudly.

you groaned again, but deep down your stomach fluttered with heat and laughter, and your thighs pressed together, and despite the chaos—despite all of it—you were already thinking about how it’d feel to have him above you, stupid, naked, sweet, mean, sloppy, and whispering something that almost sounded like love.

and stupidly, in the end, you look behind you as you walk toward the hallway with gojo—your hand clutched in his like a fucking idiot—with the bedroom door at the end blinking at you like it knew exactly how many sins were about to unfold inside it. he’s practically bouncing beside you, grinning with his arm slung around your waist like he won a prize at a fair and it was you, half-drunk, giggling, humiliated, and undeniably curious about how the stupidest fucking person in your friends group was about to missionary the everloving shit out of you.

you glance back once, just once, and of course—of course—the entire couch crew is watching, each one of them grinning like hyenas on bath salts.

shoko, drink in one hand, tongue out like she’s in a punk band photo shoot, flips you off and mouths, “TAKE THE D.”

nanami lifts his glass, deadpan as ever, and mouths, “condoms are in the drawer.”

haibara is full-on doubled over, clapping like you’re being sent off to war.

geto gives you the filthiest two-thumbs-up you’ve ever seen, followed by a pantomimed gesture that can only be described as “jackhammer pelvic annihilation.”

utahime just shrugs like “you brought this on yourself.”

you don’t know if you want to laugh or scream or combust.

you’re all stupid fucks.

and you’re the stupidest one of all.

gojo drags you through the door with a dramatic flourish, like you’re being ushered into a honeymoon suite, except it’s the spare bedroom in his overdesigned basement—dark walls, plush mattress, fairy lights clinging to the corners, a single massive bed that has held too many sleepovers, too many hangovers, too many half-naked bodies tangled under that navy comforter.

he slams the door shut behind him with an unnecessary thud and then locks it.

locks it with intent.

you look at him, raising an eyebrow.

he grins, all bright eyes and too much teeth, and says, “we don’t want anyone walking in on your emotional awakening.” you shove him in the chest, laughing despite the heat pooling low in your belly, but his arms snake around your waist and he pulls you flush against him, the giddiness gone softer now, warmer.

“you really want this?” he asks, murmuring it against the corner of your mouth, lips ghosting, fingers rubbing slow lazy circles against your spine. “you wanna prove ‘em all wrong?”

you tilt your head back, a little buzzed, a little high, heart thumping in your ears from the absurdity and anticipation and just… him—this dumb beautiful man who you’ve known since freshman year, who once drank a bottle of cooking wine on a dare, who calls you names that make your skin warm, who sends you memes at 2am and confesses his feelings with a smirk like it’s not real.

and now he’s asking like it’s the first time he’s ever taken anything seriously. you hum, smirk lazy, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “go on, missionary me, satoru.”

he laughs—not loud, not sharp, just this sweet, stupid, delighted sound that vibrates into your chest before he grabs your jaw, kisses you once, hard and messy and full of promise, and then gently backs you toward the bed like he’s actually going to try to make this romantic.

“i’m gonna missionary you so hard you’ll cry,” he says, completely deadpan.

“you’re such a fucking idiot,” you murmur.

“yours,” he whispers, pushing you down onto the mattress like prayer, like penance, like romance—but only if romance came with a hickey and a headboard slam.

gojo doesn’t even rush you, which is fucking weird. normally he rushes everything—his speeches, his shots, his half-baked plans that end with haibara covered in glitter and someone’s laptop in the bathtub. but now, now that you’ve willingly walked into this basement bedroom with him like some horny lamb in a thrifted hoodie, he moves slow. suspiciously slow. like he’s savoring it. like the thought of doing missionary—actual missionary, not his usual chaotic acrobatic nonsense—has turned into something sacred.

his hands are on your hips first, thumbs dipping just beneath the waistband of your shorts as he leans over you, not yet pushing you down but crowding you close enough that you feel the press of his grin against your skin.

“you sure you don’t want something more… you?” he murmurs, voice like a low vibration against your neck, smug and teasing, but softer than usual.

you blink up at him, lying back slightly on your elbows atop the bed, the fairy lights in the corners of the ceiling casting soft gold against his white hair, making him look like the dumbest, prettiest boy the devil ever handcrafted in a rush. his shirt is wrinkled, half unbuttoned from earlier when he got dramatic during your defense trial in the living room, and you can see the curve of his collarbones, the start of his chest. he’s flushed, high, and still smiling like he’s on a game show and he’s about to spin the wheel of “ruin your life.”

you smirk back. “you saying i’m not a romantic?”

he kisses your shoulder, open-mouthed and slow. “i’m saying you’re a slut with a dream.”

you groan. “fuck off.”

“i will,” he murmurs, mouthing just below your collarbone, “right after i make you fall in love with me like a virgin on prom night.”

you burst out laughing, shoving his shoulder, but your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and you don’t push him far. his hands slide up your sides, dragging your shirt with them, slow and deliberate, knuckles brushing bare skin. you can feel him watching your face, that infuriating way he always does, like he’s daring you to show how much you want him, how much you feel him even in these dumb, tender moments.

you let your head fall back on the mattress with a sigh, staring at the ceiling, arms up to let him pull your shirt the rest of the way off. the lights glow amber above you. the room smells like weed and gojo and leftover cologne and heat. you’re suddenly aware of how warm you are, how warm he is—kneeling one knee between your thighs now, eyes slow and greedy as they rake over your torso.

he runs his fingers up your stomach, watching the way your skin jumps under the touch. “see?” he says, voice soft but smug. “missionary’s good already. look how romantic this is. i haven’t even said the dumb shit yet.”

“say it,” you challenge, breath catching when he leans down again, kisses trailing over the swell of your breast, hands still warm and splayed along your ribs.

his mouth brushes your sternum. “you feel so pretty under my hands.”

your thighs twitch. “that’s not even a sentence.”

“shh,” he says, nuzzling the underside of your breast. “i’m practicing.”

his tongue flicks out, barely tasting your skin, not even on your nipple, just everywhere else—stupid, teasing little licks and kisses that feel more intimate than any fast-grab hookup ever did. one hand slides down to your hip, the other dragging along your arm, fingers lacing with yours, like he’s doing this half slow to spite everyone outside the door. look at us, he seems to say with every breath. look how fucking tender missionary can be.

“i swear to god if you light a candle—”

“i’m going to whisper how much i admire your work ethic.”

“satoru.”

he kisses the inside of your elbow.

“i’m gonna say i love your playlists.”

“oh my god.”

he climbs up, mouth ghosting over your jaw now, weight sinking into the mattress as he settles between your legs fully, both your hands pinned above your head with his, gaze locking onto yours with that glint—equal parts mockery and reverence. his breath is warm, lips millimeters from yours, teasing.

“i’m gonna make you come while telling you how smart you are.”

you stare, blinking, lips parting like you’re gonna come up with a good retort—and then moan when he shifts his hips, not even grinding, just pressing, enough friction to spark heat through the fabric.

he smirks.

“told you,” he whispers. “romantic’s just foreplay with better lighting.”

you blink up at him, heat crawling up your neck like it’s trying to reach your brain and set fire to what little reason you have left. he’s too close. he’s too warm, too gojo, too smug, and the worst part is—he’s not even being his usual chaotic self. this is worse. this is soft. this is slow, deliberate, dragged-out torture disguised as affection, and it’s working way too fucking well.

your arms are stretched above you, wrists pinned by one of his big, veiny hands—so unnecessarily hot—while his other trails down your side again, fingers curling like he’s mapping you out by touch, like every new inch of bare skin is a piece of his personal love letter.

“you’re so warm,” he says, voice quiet now. a little surprised. “you always run hot?”

you groan, cheeks hot as hell. “satoru.”

“i like it,” he adds, his thumb rubbing slow circles into your wrist. “feels like you’re already worked up for me.”

you glare. “this is supposed to be romantic.”

“it is,” he grins, leaning down just enough to drag his nose along your jaw. “i’m romancing you right now. you’re being romanced. fully seduced. by my incredible personality and outstanding emotional depth.”

you burst out laughing, face turning toward the pillow to muffle the sound, and he takes the opportunity to mouth along your neck, pressing an open kiss just below your ear. not biting, not sucking, just soft and slow, his lips dragging along your pulse point like he’s trying to memorize your heartbeat.

his hand leaves your wrist, and you instinctively move to touch him, fingers threading into his hair as he kisses lower, over your collarbone, across your shoulder, moving down with maddening patience. he pulls at your waistband gently, eyes flicking up to meet yours like he’s asking without words, and you nod, breath catching in your throat.

he slides your shorts down, dragging the fabric slowly past your thighs, kissing his way along your hipbone as he goes. nothing rushed. no bravado. just him and the stupid heat of his mouth on your skin, the gentle press of his hands as he settles between your thighs.

he exhales against your inner thigh like a sigh, like he’s been waiting his whole dumb life for this exact moment, and you shiver. “still think this isn’t romantic?” he asks, glancing up with a crooked smile, his breath ghosting over where you’re already embarrassingly wet.

you tug at his hair lightly. “you’re an idiot.”

“a romantic idiot,” he corrects, pressing a kiss just above your knee. “the best kind.” he kisses higher now, slow and trailing, hands rubbing soft patterns into your thighs as he settles deeper between them, anchoring you there like he’s making himself a new home.

“i’m gonna take my time with you,” he whispers, dragging his lips up toward the place you’re aching for. “gonna make you feel so fucking good… and the whole time, i’ll be looking at you like we’re married and i just made you breakfast.”

you snort. “is that your fantasy? missionary and eggs benedict?”

he hums against your skin, lips curving. “yeah, but you’re the eggs. i’m gonna ruin you.” you squeak, shoving at his head, but your legs don’t move. they can’t, not when he’s got them opened like this, not when his mouth is that close, not when your whole body’s vibrating from anticipation.

he chuckles again, smug and soft, and presses one more kiss just shy of where you want him, before leaning back up and dragging his body over yours, forearm bracing beside your head.

his mouth finds yours again, slow and coaxing, like he’s drinking from you, like every sound you make is holy. he kisses you like he’s got forever. like tonight’s the only night that matters. and even though it’s still teasing, still laced with filth and humor and all the usual gojo mess—you feel the care in it. the attention. the goddamn sweetness.

his nose brushes yours as he pulls back just enough to speak.

“missionary’s lookin’ pretty good right now, huh?”

you can’t speak. you just nod.

“that’s what i fuckin’ thought,” he murmurs, and kisses you again, deeper now, hungrier.

and somehow—stupidly, undeniably—it is romantic.

his kiss deepens and it changes something—slips out of that playful, teasing rhythm and sinks into a weightier kind of heat, slow and intentional. like he’s not just kissing you because he wants to, but because he needs to, like there’s something about your mouth he’s been thinking about every night he lay awake jerking off with his phone on silent and your face stuck in his memory.

gojo presses closer, one arm sliding beneath your back to lift you into him, like even now, he can’t stand a sliver of distance. your thighs fall open around his hips without resistance, your body pliant, high and fuzzy and ready, even as your brain’s still catching up, trying to convince you this is actually happening.

and still—still he doesn’t go for your panties yet. he’s grinding against them through his jeans, slow, careful, more like he’s testing pressure than chasing friction. he doesn’t need to rush, not with you already sighing into his mouth, your nails dragging light patterns over the back of his neck, legs wrapping around him like a question you don’t know how to ask.

he hums against your lips, low and pleased. his voice sounds deeper now, like it’s sitting low in his chest, like lust’s finally dragging it down out of his usual chirpy register and into something that sounds like intent.

“fuck,” he murmurs, breath hot against your cheek, “you feel so fuckin’ good already and i’m not even inside you.” his nose nuzzles yours as his hand ghosts down your side again, over your waist, over the soft of your hip, sliding slow between your thighs—warm and steady, pressing the heel of his palm against your center, not touching anything properly yet, just there, enough to make you buck a little without thinking.

he pulls back to watch you, eyes blown out, grin lazy and eyes focused in a way that’s almost too much—like he’s trying to memorize the way your face changes with each drag of his hand. “don’t hide your face,” he whispers, brushing hair from your forehead. “i wanna see everything. this is the romantic part, remember?”

you glare at him weakly, lip caught between your teeth. “you’re such a dick.”

he beams. “a romantic dick.”

his fingers hook into your waistband slowly, dragging your panties down your thighs, and even then he doesn’t move too fast. he stops just to kiss the crease of your thigh, to mouth the soft skin above your knee like he’s got nowhere else to be. he keeps talking under his breath, too—his filthy little monologue of worship and teasing:

“so pretty. so soft. you always smell this good? i shoulda done this years ago. god, the way you’re lookin’ at me right now—fuck. fuck. this is better than porn.”

you groan, hiding your face again. he just laughs and pulls your hands away, pinning them gently beside your head. “you’re not allowed to be shy now, babe,” he murmurs. “not after all that talk.” then, he grinds again—slow, hips rolling forward against your now-bare heat, his cock thick and hot through his jeans before he slowly push it off his legs, dragging perfectly along your slick folds, not in, not yet, just enough to make you whimper, thighs tightening around his hips.

you say his name and it breaks on your tongue, half a moan, half a warning. his mouth finds yours again, and it’s gentler this time, breathier, softer, like the kind of kiss you give someone after an argument, or a goodbye, or a promise. “this,” he whispers, between slow rolls of his hips, “is what they don’t get about missionary. it’s not boring.”

he kisses your cheek. your jaw. your throat.

“it’s close.”

he cups your breast with one hand, thumb brushing over your nipple until your back arches. “it’s eye contact.” he pushes the tip of his cock just barely against your entrance, just a tease, not even enough to press in, just the heat and pressure and promise, and it’s maddening. “it’s feelin’ every twitch you make.” his other hand cradles your face now, thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes locked on yours.

“and when i finally fuck you—”

you tremble beneath him, fingers gripping his shoulders like you’re drowning.

“—you’re not gonna be able to look away.”

your breath catches. your lips part. your thighs shake.

and he’s still smiling, so slow, so patient, hips rocking against yours in a way that’s somehow sweeter than anything you’ve done with him before. “see?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “romance. just with more lube.”

his cockhead slides slick and hot along your folds—slow, teasing passes up and down the length of your pussy like he’s learning you by feel, like he’s savoring every tremble you can’t suppress. he doesn’t push in yet, just drags the tip lazily, catching your clit on the upstroke, smearing your slick over the flushed head with every patient, maddening grind. it’s warm and messy and obscene, his hips rolling slow, the weight of him heavy between your thighs, arms braced on either side of your head, body coiled but unhurried.

you’re breathing through your mouth now, lips parted, chest rising fast. his forehead’s still resting against yours, breath hot, both of you in this sticky, perfect moment suspended just before the fall. you lift one hand, threading your fingers into his hair—so soft, even now—and the other slips to the buttons of his shirt.

“i need—” you start, but don’t finish. he just nods.

you work the buttons open one by one, trembling fingers moving slow at first, then faster, frantic for skin. every button undone reveals more of him—long lines of lean muscle under smooth skin, flushed now, glowing in the golden halo of the fairy lights. his collarbones, his sternum, the subtle dip down the center of his chest, the way he moves above you with every breath—it’s fucking perfect. stupidly, unreasonably perfect.

your palms flatten against his chest, dragging down over the flex of his abs, feeling him shudder under your touch. he’s warm, a little sticky with sweat, skin like silk over steel. your nails graze his ribs and he gasps into your neck.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.

“shut up and fuck me,” you breathe back, and it’s not even desperate—it’s reverent. his cock nudges against your entrance, hips rolling forward, and then he pushes. slow. impossibly slow. inch by inch, your pussy stretching around him, swallowing him, your breath caught in your throat as the fullness builds, thick and unbearable and perfect.

his forehead presses back to yours. his mouth drops open, eyes squeezed shut, groaning soft and hoarse like the pleasure hurts. you wrap your legs around his waist, pull him in deeper, your hands sliding up his back. your nails dig in—deep—carving red lines into the flex of his shoulder blades and down along his spine. he hisses against your lips, a sound that’s more pleasure than pain, hips stuttering.

“shit—baby—fuck—”

he bottoms out with a shaky grind of his hips, buried so deep inside you that you feel like you’ve been marked from the inside out. every twitch of him against your walls sends sparks up your spine. and he just stays there for a moment, not moving, breathing you in.

“you feel—” he tries, but then laughs breathlessly, shaking his head. “—i don’t have the words. you feel like heaven and punishment and fucking home.” your hands curl tighter into his back, your lips brushing his cheek as you whisper back, “i told you i was romantic.”

“you’re a fucking dream,” he whispers.

then his hips start to move.

his hips begin to move with the kind of slow, reverent rhythm that makes your throat tighten. like every inch he draws back is a silent apology, and every inch he pushes back in is a promise he’ll never leave. it’s not just sex—it's the ache of something bigger pressing down on both of you, thick in the air like incense, like heat, like the way his mouth brushes yours with every shallow thrust, not always kissing, just there, sharing breath, the smallest space between you charged and crackling.

you’re wrapped around him fully now—legs looped over his waist, hands tangled in the open cotton of his shirt that’s slipped halfway off his shoulders, your nails still painting invisible trails down his back. you can feel the burn where you scratched him raw, and he’s still groaning every time your nails dig a little deeper, like it feeds him, like he likes the proof of you on his body.

but it’s slow. fucking unbearably slow.

he’s not slamming into you like some desperate teenage fantasy. no—gojo is making love to you with the body of a sinner and the mouth of a man who knows every joke will hit harder with your cunt squeezing around his cock.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs against your lips, grinning through a groan, forehead still pressed to yours. “like—fuck, like you’re trying to keep me forever.” you whimper softly, one hand sliding into his hair, tugging at the roots just to feel him react. and he does, hips hitching slightly deeper, eyes fluttering shut as he pants against your cheek.

“that what this is?” he breathes. “romance as entrapment? mm—baby, if that’s what you’re after, you’ve got me.” he pulls out almost to the tip, dragging the ridge of his cockhead against your soaked entrance, then sinks back in slowly—too slowly—and you arch into him, breath catching with a soft, gasping moan.

“fuck,” he whispers, voice cracked. “listen to you.”

his hand slips between you now, palm flat against your stomach first, then lower, his fingers finding your clit like second nature, rubbing soft circles that match the slow grind of his hips. the pressure makes your thighs tighten around him, your hips canting upward, breath stuttering.

“so good,” you gasp, eyes fluttering. “satoru—fuck—don’t stop.”

“never,” he promises, eyes locked on yours now, wide and bright and open, not cocky this time, not laughing—just full of that stupid, terrifying sincerity he hides under every joke. “fuck, you feel so good. so soft. warm. like your pussy’s in love with me even if your mouth won’t say it yet.”

you let out a broken laugh, hands clutching his shoulders, your body moving with his now, rolling into every thrust, every tender rub of his fingers over your clit. “i hate you,” you whisper, dazed, overwhelmed, completely gone.

he grins, mouth brushing yours again. “no, you don’t.”

“i really do—”

“then why’s your cunt fluttering every time i say something romantic?”

you choke on a laugh that dissolves into a moan, and he kisses it off your lips, his thrusts picking up just barely—still slow, still deep, but with a heat that builds under your skin, spreading outward like a wave you know you won’t survive. “missionary,” he breathes, like he’s blessing you with the word. “best position in the world.”

“fuck you—”

“you are,” he laughs, cock twitching inside you. “you’re so fucking mine right now.”

you grab his face, pull him down into another kiss—sloppy, wet, real, all tongue and teeth and heat. he’s moaning into your mouth now, every roll of his hips drawing a whine out of your throat, every filthy little circle of his fingers making your stomach twist tight. “you’re not allowed to be good at this,” you manage to gasp between kisses. “oh, baby,” he pants, forehead pressed back to yours, cock grinding deeper, his voice dropping low and filthy. “you haven’t even seen me try yet.”

his hips drag deep and slow like he’s sculpting the inside of you with his cock, and you’re shaking beneath him—sweat-damp skin sliding against his, toes curled, fingers sunk into his back so hard you know you’ll leave scratches he’s going to brag about for weeks. gojo’s face is buried against your throat, his breath coming out in broken little groans, every sound pitched high and wrecked like he’s unraveling with you, held together by nothing but the rhythm of his thrusts and the heat blooming in your core.

you’re soaked around him, clenching every time he rolls his hips into you with that slow, relentless grind that drags the thick head of his cock across your sweetest spot just right, again and again. the slick sound of him fucking you fills the room, obscene and wet, echoing off the walls like music behind the ragged whimpering of your breath and his deep, shuddering groans.

your thighs twitch around his waist, your head thrown back against the pillows, mouth open, voice cracking as you moan, “fuck—fuck—satoru—i’m gonna—i can’t—fuck—”

“yes, baby,” he pants, voice completely shot, wrecked and desperate, every word punctuated by a thrust that goes just a little harder, a little deeper. “come on, i feel you—shit, you’re squeezing me so—fuck, come for me, baby, come on me, i wanna feel you break—”

your back arches and you scream—loud, raw, real—hands flying to his hair, tugging hard as your orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, pussy fluttering around him, tight and hot and soaked. your entire body locks up, toes curling, thighs shaking violently as pleasure rips through you in sharp, electric pulses that have you gasping his name again and again—“satoru—satoru—fuckfuckfuck—oh my god—”

he’s losing it above you, losing his fucking mind, his cock twitching hard inside you as your walls milk him with every spasm. his forehead’s pressed to yours, mouth hanging open, breath coming in short, wrecked little moans—“f-fuck—oh fuck, baby, oh my god—your pussy’s choking me—gonna—gonna—i’m gonna—”

he slams into you one last time, hips jerking as he moans so loud right in your ear, deep and guttural and shaking with how hard he comes, cock throbbing as he spills inside you, filling you up, his whole body shuddering as he gasps, "oh fuck, yes—yesyesyes—oh my fucking god—yes."

you’re both panting, legs wrapped tight around his waist, arms pulling him down, needing him close even as your bodies tremble against each other. his cock is still twitching inside you, your walls still fluttering with aftershocks, and he’s breathing your name like he’s worshipping it, forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “that was—fuck—baby—i felt everything. you—you killed me.”

you laugh, hoarse and fucked-out, body buzzing like live wire. “missionary?” he pants, lips brushing yours. “best fucking position,” you gasp, still clenching around him, making him groan all over again.

he smiles. “god, i love being right.”

his body is still trembling against yours, muscles twitching under your hands as he slowly, reluctantly, starts to move again—like he’s not ready to let go of the feeling, like being buried in you with your legs locked around his waist is something he’d live inside if the world would just let him.

he’s panting into your neck, soft little exhales against your damp skin, and you can feel the shape of every breath, the way his chest stutters against yours like he’s still trying to come back to earth. and inside you, he’s still thick, still sensitive, every subtle squeeze of your cunt making him whimper.

you grin, dazed, half-dead, fully fucked out, dragging your nails up his back with gentle pressure now, tracing along the red welts you carved earlier like a painter admiring their masterpiece. “you’re leaking inside me,” you murmur, voice rough and slurred, hips shifting just enough to feel the warm, wet spill of him dripping down your thighs.

he groans, long and low, and lifts his head to look at you. his bangs are plastered to his forehead, eyes glassy and blown wide, lips swollen and parted as he breathes. there’s sweat at his temple, a flush high in his cheeks, and the expression on his face is somewhere between holy shit and i could marry you right now and cry doing it.

“you keep squeezing me like that, baby,” he says, voice shredded, “and i’ll give you another load without even moving.”

you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip, and he kisses you—messy, slow, full of tongue and heat and that unbearable sweetness that he only ever shows you in quiet moments like this. his hips roll forward just a little, and even though you’re both sensitive, you both moan, gasping against each other’s mouths.

“fuck,” you breathe, nails digging gently into his shoulder blades again. “you came so much, satoru.”

“‘course i did,” he pants, pulling back just enough to look down at where your bodies are still joined. he moves his hips in the slightest circle, still buried inside you, cock twitching, and watches your cunt flutter around him like it’s still begging for more.

“how could i not?” he continues, eyes wide, voice soft with shock. “you—you milked me. i didn’t even get to fuck you hard. you came and just took it from me. you robbed me. you’re a criminal.” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him back down into your chest. “you liked it.”

“i loved it,” he groans, pressing kisses to your collarbone, mouthing against your skin like he can’t stop. “missionary’s never gonna be the same. i’m gonna be useless. this pussy’s got emotional consequences.”

you snort, and he keeps talking like he’s possessed, rambling sweet and filthy things against your skin. “gonna write about this in my journal. not even a sex diary. just regular journal. ‘dear diary, the love of my life fucked me dumb in my own basement. i cried a little.’”

“you didn’t cry,” you say, even as you’re laughing again.

“not yet.”

you’re still full of him, and he’s still twitching inside you like he’s thinking about round two, and honestly—you are too. the room’s still glowing soft with the fairy lights. your bodies are stuck together with sweat and come and the kind of heat that doesn’t cool easy. your thighs are sticky around his hips. his fingers haven’t stopped stroking your side. you can hear your friends still laughing distantly from the living room, and none of it matters.

he presses his forehead to yours again, noses brushing. “you wanna go again?” he asks, voice soft now, full of a wicked little smile. “slow this time. slower than this.”

you blink at him.

“that was slow.”

he grins. “i can go slower.”

your breath catches, your body already aching in the best way.

“what, you gonna put on music and cry while you fuck me?”

“only if you want me to,” he whispers, and then kisses you again, tender and deep.

and god help you—you might.

after a few moments of so-called dramatic silence—it’s not, because gojo’s incapable of shutting up even post-orgasm—you finally sigh, drop your head back with a groan, and sit up on the edge of the bed, still dazed, still soaked, still trying to remember how to be a functioning human being. your thighs stick together when you shift. the air is thick with sex and sweat and that particular smugness that only gojo satoru can radiate like body heat.

meanwhile, he’s half-dressed and strutting around like a peacock that just won a dance battle. his jeans are back on—sloppily buttoned, zipper half-down, belt missing—and his shirt is absolutely not on because it’s somewhere across the room where he tossed it like a used napkin. he’s humming to himself as he pokes through the wreckage of the bed’s surroundings, eyes sparkling like he just found religion.

“where the hell did your bra go?” he mutters, pulling a sock off the lampshade and examining it like it might transform. “jesus, did i eat it?—oh, nope. got it. it was under my back.”

you groan again, arms folded across your chest, hair a tangled halo around your face, watching him with your chin tucked against your knees. “can you just—bring me my shirt before you go on another satoru soliloquy?”

“no can do, miss missionary evangelist,” he says, holding your crumpled shirt in one hand and dramatically placing your bra over his shoulder like a sash. “not until you publicly acknowledge that you were wrong and i, gojo satoru, bringer of orgasmic truth, proved—beyond reasonable doubt—that missionary is the best position known to mankind.”

you throw a pillow at him.

it hits his face, bounces off, and he keeps smiling.

“fine,” you mutter, reaching out as he steps in close. “yes. missionary with you, the stupidest man in our group, was good. amazing. disgustingly good.”

“romantic,” he corrects, kneeling in front of you now, the shirt falling from his hand onto your lap, the bra dangling from two fingers as he smirks up at you. “romantically stupid,” you clarify, grinning despite the embarrassment curling under your skin.

“they’re gonna die when they hear you let me make love to you like a Jane Austen adaptation,” he says, gently nudging your thighs apart so he can help you step into your underwear. “haibara’s gonna combust. shoko’s gonna stage an intervention.”

“shoko’s gonna accuse me of spiritual regression,” you say, lifting your hips so he can slide the fabric back over them. “and i’m gonna prove her wrong. i’m gonna look her in the eyes and tell her: ‘even doing missionary with the dumbest man i know, it was still the best.’ and you know what? i’m gonna mean it.”

gojo grins like the devil with a heart of gold.

“now that’s the kinda testimonial i wanna hear in a courtroom,” he says, fingers dragging slowly up your thighs, hooking your shorts next. “tell the jury, sweetheart. tell ‘em what it felt like.” you swat his shoulder, cheeks flushing again. “just help me put my bra on, casanova.”

he does—surprisingly gently, fingers cool against your back, hooking the clasp with practiced ease before pulling your shirt down over your head, smoothing the fabric over your hips like he’s dressing a doll he won in a fucked-up carnival game. and when he stands up again, you reach for his bicep, eyes catching on the faint red lines blooming just under the curve of his muscle.

your fingers trace one—long, angry, scabbed slightly already. the mark from your nails. from when you came so hard you clawed him like you were drowning in him. your breath catches a little.

“does that hurt?” you ask, voice low, thumb brushing it softer now.

he looks down at your hand. then at you.

and grins.

“hurt? no, baby. it’s proof.”

“proof of what? that i mauled you like a cat in heat?”

“proof that missionary ruins lives.” you choke on a laugh, and he throws his arms out dramatically, flexing the arm with the red lines like a trophy. “i’m gonna show everyone,” he says proudly. “i’m gonna walk out there and tell them: this? this was earned through slow, passionate, eye-contact-heavy fucking.”

you blink. “you’re gonna brag about being scratched during tender sex?”

“hell yes i am. this is a scarlet letter and i’m wearing it with pride.”

you bury your face in your hands.

“i’m gonna have to move cities.”

he leans down, kisses your hair, still giddy.

“no you’re not. you’re gonna go out there, sit on that couch, and smile smugly while they cry about how you got the good shit.”

“what, missionary?”

he winks. “romantic missionary.”

you shake your head, grabbing his hand to stand up with a sigh. your legs still tremble slightly, and he catches you with an arm around your waist. “we tell them,” he whispers in your ear, “but we don’t tell them everything.”

“deal.”

you walk out first, mostly because gojo insisted on dramatically opening the door for you like some fucked-up victorian husband escorting his blushing bride after the most sacred consummation of their union—which is rich, considering there was nothing sacred about what just happened unless you count the part where you saw god for a few seconds while pinned beneath the dumbest man in your life.

the moment the door creaks open, the silence is immediate and vicious. like the eye of a hurricane. the group sprawled across the living room snaps their heads toward the hallway in unison like a pack of wild animals smelling the aftermath of debauchery—and the look on their faces?

oh yeah. they know.

you’re glowing. not figuratively. literally. your skin’s flushed and gleaming with sweat, your shirt slightly off the shoulder, your lips swollen, your hair a disaster that no dry shampoo or dignity could save. a fresh constellation of hickeys blooms across your neck like you had a one-night stand with the concept of poor decision-making. you’ve got that post-sex daze in your eyes—the kind that says your soul left your body for twenty-seven minutes and came back softer.

and gojo?

gojo looks worse. or better, depending on how deranged your standards are.

shirtless. completely unbothered. jeans slung low like gravity’s trying to preserve the last shreds of your dignity and failing. his hair’s a wild mess, fluffed and chaotic, the way it always gets when you’ve pulled it hard—and oh, you did. his face is pink and flushed, lips bitten, pupils blown, and he’s got this grin, this absolutely illegal, felony-level smug grin, like he just won a championship no one else knew they were playing.

his back and arms are fucking wrecked. scratch marks everywhere. some long and shallow, others deep and angry, crisscrossing like tally marks on a prison wall. his biceps? ruined. shoulders? decorated. lower back? absolutely mauled. he’s walking like a man who survived the trenches and wants everyone to know it. he’s not even pretending to be humble.

you both step into the room and immediately—

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—” haibara lets out a guttural scream like he’s witnessing a murder. he drops the pool cue he wasn’t even holding right and clutches his face. “you look—he looks—i didn’t even know backs could bruise like that,” utahime says, pointing, voice somewhere between horrified and hysterical.

shoko slowly sits up straighter, blinking at your neck, her eyes narrowing as she catalogues the damage. “that’s… impressive. Disgusting, but impressive.” geto whistles low, lounging on the couch with his legs crossed like he’s the judge in a porno talent show. “is that a bite on your collarbone? did you actually leave teeth marks?”

gojo throws an arm around your shoulder like a victorious war hero returning home, full of glory and sin and not a shred of guilt. “ladies,” he says, voice hoarse and soaked in self-satisfaction, “gentlemen. sluts of all genders. i am here to confirm that romantic missionary is not dead.”

you smack his chest but don’t move away.

you’re already laughing, breathless, flushed, and shameless. “even with him,” you announce to the room, lifting your chin, “missionary is still the best position. maybe the best I’ve ever had.”

dead silence.

and then the couch erupts.

haibara throws a pillow at you so hard it ricochets and hits nanami in the face. utahime screams. shoko collapses backward, legs kicking, full-body laughing like a woman betrayed. geto claps slow and dramatic, head shaking. “you’ve broken her,” shoko howls, “she’s gone, she’s converted. next she’ll say handholding’s hot!”

“it is,” gojo says, absolutely delighted. “you’re a slut,” utahime says, pointing at you, but her voice is grinning. “every position is the best for you. you could get railed in a dentist chair and you’d moan about how it’s your new favorite.”

“i’m versatile,” you say proudly, flicking your hair like it isn’t a crime scene. “you’re deranged,” nanami mutters, finally lifting his head just to sip something dangerously amber. “no, no, wait,” haibara gasps, pointing at gojo. “he still doesn’t have a shirt on. why doesn’t he have a shirt on? is that blood? IS THAT BLOOD?”

“scratches, sweetheart,” gojo coos, turning around like a model showing off his back to the judges. “proof of passion. her nails did all this. i am but a humble canvas.”

“he moaned when i did it,” you add, deadpan.

shoko screams into a cushion.

“i need bleach for my eyes,” utahime mutters. geto nods solemnly. “i knew missionary would be the one to take you down. i didn’t think it would actually work.”

gojo slumps dramatically into the couch, dragging you with him, arms still around your waist like he can’t let go now that he’s ruined you emotionally and spiritually. he kisses your temple with obnoxious affection, legs spread wide like a man proud of the ruin he left behind.

“this,” he says, motioning to his face, “is the face of a man who made love and won.” you lean back against his chest, sighing like a satisfied villain. “and this is the face of a woman who has no regrets.”

utahime flings her slipper across the room.

“take your slutty love story and get the fuck out.” and all you can do is laugh, tangled with the man who made missionary feel like a religious experience, glowing like a filthy miracle, while your friends spiral in the wake of your post-sex enlightenment.

the scene that follows is nothing short of a cinematic meltdown, a group mental collapse broadcast in full color under the low glow of gojo’s cursed mood lighting. the basement already reeked of weed and spilled cheap whiskey, but now it’s thick with the stench of defeat. your victory. his absolute, unapologetic, shirtless triumph.

gojo leans back into the couch like he owns the fucking place—well, he does, technically, but now it’s like he owns the narrative, the mythos. his arms spread over the back of the cushions, one dangling casually behind your shoulders, the other resting across your thigh like a hand claiming territory. he’s not even pretending to put his shirt back on anymore. it lies somewhere in the corner, forgotten, like decency itself. his chest gleams with sweat and scratches. his hair looks like a bird tried nesting in it during the act. and he smiles.

that dumb, cocky, post-sex smile like he just unlocked a new religion and you’re the first disciple.

you’re still glowing. cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bitten, shirt stretched from being pulled halfway over your head at one point and now just barely covering the constellation of hickeys painted from your neck to your collarbone. you look like you just committed a crime and are so proud of the mugshot.

“it wasn’t just good,” you declare, fingers lazily adjusting your hair with all the grace of a slutty war general. “it was enlightenment. i saw god and she winked at me.”

“was she into missionary too?” geto asks, eyes squinting as he exhales smoke through his nose.

“she invented it,” you say solemnly.

shoko’s lost in the corner of the couch, one sock off, one sock on, a throw blanket over her head as she moans, “i am going to exorcise this entire night from my memory. i am going to bleach my soul.” utahime looks at you, then gojo, then you again, pointing a trembling finger as she says, “the worst part is you’re not even ashamed. you’re not even pretending.”

“what is there to be ashamed of?” gojo grins, tilting his head and stretching his legs out like a lounge chair with a heartbeat. “i made her come with eye contact and emotional intimacy. you’re welcome.”

“you did not make me cry,” you say through your teeth, blushing all over again.

he just hums and presses a kiss to your temple.

“you wanted to cry.”

“you literally told me you’d fall in love with me if i kept clenching.”

“and did you?” he raises an eyebrow.

you flick his nipple. he gasps like a scandalized housewife.

“anyway,” you sigh dramatically, like you didn’t just have your soul rearranged missionary style by a man who can’t name five vegetables, “i stand by it. even with gojo. especially with gojo. missionary is the best position ever.”

haibara’s curled up in the fetal position on the beanbag, face buried in a throw pillow, groaning loud enough to qualify as a siren. “i hate this timeline. i hate this dimension.”

“you’re all just mad it wasn’t you,” gojo chirps.

“no one wants to do missionary with you!” utahime shouts.

“she did,” he says smugly, nudging you with his knee.

“she’s a slut!” shoko yells from beneath the blanket. “every position is the best for her! she’d say reverse piledriver is romantic if you called her ‘sweetheart’ while doing it!”

you shrug unapologetically. “what can i say? i value connection.”

“you value getting railed while someone holds your hand,” nanami deadpans, not even looking up from the book he inexplicably pulled out sometime during this hellish conversation.

“yes, and?”

“honestly?” geto exhales smoke, eyes thoughtful. “it’s kind of poetic.”

“oh don’t you start,” utahime groans.

gojo tucks his chin over your shoulder now, holding you close, his voice a warm hum in your ear. “i’m gonna write a manifesto. ‘missionary for the modern man: an erotic treatise.’ subtitle: with love, and balls-deep penetration.”

you start laughing so hard you nearly fall off the couch.

“you’re insane,” you say, wheezing.

“i’m revolutionary,” he murmurs, planting a kiss just behind your ear. “i’m a pioneer. i’m the christopher columbus of tender fucking.”

“he committed genocide,” you say.

“okay,” gojo says, thoughtful, “then i’m the neil armstrong of romantic nut.”

“you didn’t discover the moon, satoru,” nanami says flatly.

“maybe she’s my moon,” gojo murmurs, dramatically clutching his chest, “and i left my footprints all over her surface.”

you grab a throw pillow and smack him in the face.

he catches it, kisses it, throws it back.

your friends are all either screaming, sobbing, or plotting your deaths.

but you?

you’re smiling.

and glowing.

and still a little sore in the best fucking way.

[xenopoem]

A xenopoem is a speculative, avant-garde form of poetry that transcends traditional human language and semiotics, often embodying alien, non-human, or posthuman perspectives. It functions as a linguistic or biosemiotic "glitch," disrupting conventional meaning-making through fragmented, recursive, or algorithmic structures. Drawing from experimental art and systems biology, xenopoems act like portals or mutational vectors, reconfiguring cognition, space, or even planetary  ecosystems. They are not merely read but inhabited by non-human entities—like microbial intelligences or AI—as self-executing scripts or topological shifts in reality.

Key characteristics include:

Alien semiotics: Incorporates untranslatable  or non-human linguistic systems, challenging human cognition.

Glitch ontology: Acts as a disruptive "virus" in bio-digital or planetary architectures, fostering adaptive mutations.

Posthuman focus: Engages with distributed cognition, cross-species communication, or technomorphosis, often bypassing human-centric narratives.

Interplanetary design: May manifest as fractalized data structures embedded in extraterrestrial habitats, rewriting environments.

[silvernightabyss]

“Who says the protagonist's life has to be happy?” - Chapter 1

Yandere Hero x gn!Reader

Isekai, who among us hasn't dreamed of it? Well, get it signed. Try not to throw yourself into the arms of the protagonist as soon as you see him. Remember, you may know everything about him, but he's seeing you for the first time. The thoughts of the protagonist come as a gift.

How many references do you want? Yes.

word count: 2.9k Prologue/Chapter 1

It's been two weeks since you've been in the fantasy world of the novel. Adapting has been difficult, even though you've inherited fragmentary memories of the original owner of the body. The unfamiliar people, surroundings, etiquette, and architecture were very disconcerting. To your shame, you spent your first night sobbing quietly in your room in the temple. The only thing you were probably lucky about was that you weren't a member of the church, just a hired sewist. Given the fact that the high priest was the one who raped Evan, you had no desire to see the man, whose name was Donavan. Make sure you memorize that shithead's name and if you ever summon a demon, sell his soul.

In fact, you hadn't seen him or Evan since you'd been in this world. And while the first pleased you, the second disappointed you. As you learned by asking the servants, Evan and his team were on a quest to destroy one of the demon lords living in a poisonous swamp. This happened at the beginning of the first volume, as you may recall. And what the author thought to add the location of the poison swamp, in all games it was always the most annoying part. Probably because the author was an insufferable evil bastard who drew inspiration from the most annoying things created by human hands. A sudden wave of anger almost ripped the thin fabric in your hands in half. Then you stroked it quickly, as if to comfort it, removing the creases that had formed.

Poor Evan was going to get poisoned by some nasty animal and come back to the temple with a fever for a week. Sad, of course, but nothing that with your level of power you could change. The day after the isekai, you tried a little magic. Find some chakra, mana core, nen or something. But no. All you got was to feel like an idiot for half an hour, huffing and puffing like a pissed-off hedgehog. No transmigrator buffs. No annoying system or divine companion. Nothing. That made you completely powerless to help Evan. It was frustrating, angry, and made you want to bang your head against the wall. Your modern upbringing couldn't allow you to ignore someone else's misfortune. If you worked in the kitchen, you would surely spit in the soups and drinks that are made especially for the High Priest. Unfortunately, those are the only petty thoughts of revenge you could afford.

Part of you just wanted to leave, good thing sewing skills were embedded in your subcortex, and you could find work somewhere else, not in a place where you knew one hero suffered every day. You wince. Thinking about it like that made you feel bad about yourself. It was vile to think of leaving. As the only person with knowledge of the situation, you had to stay and try to help in any way you could. Even if your attempts would be fruitless in the end.

You spent the next two hours diligently embroidering new robes and fixing old ones where the fabric was too worn. Unpleasant thoughts of varying degrees of intrusiveness kept popping into your head, but you studiously ignored them. Their content was something like “To be or not to be”, only your option was “To stay or not to stay”.

After you finished your work, you picked up a pile of robes and went to turn them in to the storekeeper. The temple was beautiful, even to your unassuming eye. The entire continent worshiped the Creator who made the world and the gods they created to help look after the people. In fact, you remembered from the book that the mythology of Evan's world was very interesting. Incredibly written and detailed lore describing events from ancient times to the present day. Some of the knowledge you had already forgotten, but for example you remembered that the Irin continent, where the main story took place, was named after the god's favorite angel.

The central temple of the capital was dedicated to the Creator. Numerous frescoes on the ceiling depicted the creation of the world and the races that inhabited it. For the first week, you walked with your head up, and more than once you were on the verge of falling. The tall, graceful steles also drew attention to the care with which the flowers and leaves were molded, as if they were real and the spell had just turned them to stone a moment ago. The garden wasn't to be forgotten, you'd only been there once, but it was already completely engraved in your heart. Score one for staying. Overall to summarize the temple was beautiful, the priests friendly. So why the hell is this place of paradise run by this goddamn pervert! The Creator's eyes are blown out of their heads to let a man like that in charge of their temple? Unbearable.

Your boots thudded loudly and angrily on the marble floor, and you continued on your way. The servants and priests you encountered preferred to avoid you in a wide arc, sensing in their gut the dark and heavy aura you gave off. With the power you put into opening the door, you could shred a mountain to pieces with a single blow. Yeah, like that bald guy, that's how powerful you were at that moment. The storekeeper didn't even lift his head from the paper he was looking at. Inwardly, you marveled a little at his restraint; you yourself would have jumped on the spot if you had been rushed in with such a bang. More calmly you approached the not-young man whose most prominent feature was his giant-hooked nose.

“I brought the robes, where should I put them?” Your voice rumbles through the room.

The man nodded vaguely toward a neighboring room filled with baskets full of robes. The servants had to wash and dry the robes before handing them back to the priests. Why the freshly sewn robes had to be washed was a big question, but not of your mind. You were about to leave when you were stopped by the storekeeper.

“Go to the infirmary and get the medicine for the hero. His chambers are in the east wing of the temple on the third floor.”

During your entire stay in the room, the storekeeper didn't even look at you, and after he gave you the order, he started acting as if you weren't even here. Well, the main thing is that he didn't yell. You shrugged your shoulders and left the room.

The stone-face test was successfully passed, the die rolled on a twenty! In fact, your heart was racing, and your palms were unpleasantly sweaty. Did all this mean you would be able to see Evan? You didn't even know he'd returned. With an effort of will, you suppressed the joyful scream that burst from your mouth. You're going to see the protagonist of this damn novel. Almost dancing, you hurried toward the infirmary.

The nurse, whose name was Ellen, gave you your medication as soon as she heard that you had come from the storekeeper. The girl explained that because of the upcoming festival dedicated to the Creator, all the servants were busy preparing for the sacred rituals. Mentally, you tsked. That no servant could spare time for the precious hero of the Church? Nonsense, of course, but nonsense that plays right into your hands. Having memorized what to give and in what dosage, you headed for the eastern wing.

The corridors became more and more empty with every turn, as if you were entering a forbidden zone. The atmosphere was oppressive and growing colder with each step. A creak sounded very close to you, made you jump on the spot and freeze. It was scary to turn around. You didn't want to see the ghost behind you. On bending legs, you turned around and ….Mmm No, that's just your overactive imagination working for the bread. There was nothing behind you. Nothing in the front, either. Cussing under your breath, you continued walking. Isekai had definitely taken a toll on your nerves. Shame they hadn't invented valerian here yet.

The doors to Evan's chambers were carved, decorated with ornaments of flowers. You knocked hesitantly, and when there was no answer, you knocked again, but louder. Maybe he was asleep? What was to be done? The nurse had said the medication had to be timed to avoid making him feel worse. The doorknob in your hand felt like a ticket to heaven or hell. Praying in your mind to who you didn't know, you pushed it down. With a quiet click, the door opened. Like a mouse about to steal cheese, you quietly slipped through the gap and closed the door behind you. You hoped Evan wasn't a cat that would eat you for entering without permission.

The main hero's chambers were green, very green, not because the walls and furniture were that color, but because of the dozens or even hundreds of pots with various plants. As a half-elf, Evan had the ability to understand and talk to plants. For a long time in the novel, they were his only friends, listening to all his sorrows. Sighing sadly, you headed for the door behind, which was presumably the bedroom.

Evan lay on the bed, resting peacefully, deep in sleep. The blanket lay in a bunched pile at the half elf's feet. His complexion was very pale with blue veins clearly visible, there were deep bruises under his eyes, and his breathing was intermittent and heavy. Despite this, he was still more handsome than the sleeping beauty herself. If you thought the comparison was inappropriate, just never mind. On tiptoe, you moved closer and leaned over the sleeping hero. Handsome. You especially liked the way his leafy green hair curled around his pointy ears. You wanted to catch one strand between your fingers and then watch it curl back. You weren't weird. Not at all.

You put the tray of medicine on the bedside table with a little more clatter than you'd like, but Evan didn't wake up, thankfully. The half elf's forehead was scalding hot, and you jerked your hand away quickly. Looking around, you spotted a basin of water on the other side of the room and quickly soaked the rag you'd grabbed from the tray before placing it on Evan's forehead. That's better. Satisfied, you smiled to yourself.

The question of how to medicate the unconscious hero was still open. You frankly didn't want to wake him up. You remembered from the book that Evan's condition was extremely serious, and he didn't come to his senses at all. Rest is the best medicine. It's better if you quietly do your business and leave, and he won't even know you're in his chambers. Shit, that sounded like some kind of thief.

Pass the cure with a kiss? You shook your head frantically as soon as the thought crossed your mind. God, you'd read too many romance novels. Conscience and morality would never allow you to violate Evan's personal boundaries like that, considering how they'd already been violated by the high priest. Besides, it would be despicable to do that to any person.

But then what were you supposed to do? You'd just have to pour the drugs into Evan's mouth and hope he didn't choke. That's about what you did, luckily without becoming a hero killer. Now comes the most difficult and embarrassing part. Ellen gave you an ointment to rub into the half elf's chest. The medical reasons behind this you almost completely missed, and you only had to take on faith the necessity of this action. Evan wouldn't like it if someone he didn't know undressed him and started performing medical procedures on him. Right? So something had to be done about it.

One of the scraps of fabric Ellen put on the tray caught your eye. It's perfect. You'll pretend to be a butler, covering your eyes with a strip of fabric so as not to embarrass your mistress. Master. You mean Evan. Quickly and tightly tying the band, you found yourself in darkness. With suddenly trembling hands you fumbled for the collar of the half elf's shirt and from it, you easily reached the buttons. Normally you would have easily done it in less than a minute, but now deprived of sight and incredibly embarrassed; each of your actions was stretched to the point of impossibility. After an eternity according to your internal clock, you finally managed this undeniably difficult task.

So it was time for the ointment, which was as green as you remembered and smelled like bumps or something else freshly herbal. Incredibly embarrassed by your own actions, you rubbed the ointment in as fast as you could without lingering on any part of Evan's skin. What's a stupid trail? A relieved exhale escaped you when this torture finally stopped. Ellen had said the ointment should absorb very quickly, literally in less than a minute, and in your head you drummed your fingers on your thigh, ticking off the seconds. When the time was up, you hoped for it towards the end you began to speed up the count, with all care you covered Evan with the blanket. The nurse had said the fever would go down very quickly, which meant the half elf could get cold.

And so it was done! Now you could leave with a clear conscience. You pulled the bandage off your eyes, blinked in the light, and hurriedly picked up the tray, leaving the room. Before you passed through the doorway, you took one last look at Evan, still sleeping peacefully. Handsome even when he's sick. Nodding affirmatively at that thought, you headed back to the infirmary to return the medication to the nurse.

***

Evan woke up when someone started undoing the buttons of his sleeping shirt. His first thought was that it was Donavan, so the only thing he could do was lie there and not fight back. Was he sick of his powerlessness? So sick that he wanted to open his chest with his hands and rip out his damn heart, which sometimes allowed itself to hope for the best. The half elf left his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the high priest's ugly face, twisted with desire. He could still visualize it all too well, anyway. A convulsion shot through his arm and he clawed his fingers into the sheets, his nails almost tearing the fabric.

Halfway through the unbuttoning, Evan suddenly realized that the fingers that sometimes grazed his skin were different from Donovan's skinny, knotted fingers, the pads of which were covered with calluses. In addition, a strange chill spread from his forehead down his body. Was it the damp cloth? It was only because of the two factors above that he actually opened his eyes and saw you. The snort that almost came out of his mouth, he held back with an incredible effort of will. A blindfold? It was ridiculous, even more ridiculous than the mix of slime deer and owl he'd met in the swamp. Ridiculous but oddly cute. The mere thought that he might be uncomfortable being stared at half-naked had never occurred to anyone. With already great interest and friendliness, he began to consider your appearance.

When you reached for the green jar, he recognized it as an antipyretic. A spark of realization lit him up, and Evan bit his lip. He was ready for the feeling of a thousand little insects crawling under his skin, but your touch didn't disgust him. Evan blinked perplexedly when he realized this. Short and medically detached, your touch was devoid of any lust. Noticing your fingers trembling, Evan concluded that at the very least you were awkward. Later his guess was confirmed by your tapping on your thigh, too uneven and often out of rhythm to be a sign of boredom or impatience. The blanket you covered him with forced him to smile slightly. A display of simple human caring that he had always been deprived of. The thought made him feel unpleasantly empty inside.

When your fingers reached for the bandage, Evan closed his eyes as quickly as possible, not even knowing why. He didn't have an answer to that question. Listening to the quiet rustling of the fabric of your clothes and the tinkling of the medicine on the tray made his heart feel lighter for some reason. It was as if you were not a randomly sent servant, but someone close to him who genuinely cared about him.

The creak of the door alerted him to your departure, but with his keen hearing, he could still hear your footsteps outside his chambers. As soon as they were gone, Evan sat up on the bed, causing the cloth on his forehead to fall down. Silently, he twirled it in his hands. His head felt strangely empty. Perhaps the only question that bothered him now was; who are you? Meeting you had irrevocably changed something in him, as if he had been a broken clock just now starting to run.

Evan rolled back over, sinking into the soft mattress, and returned the cloth to his forehead. The next time you two meet, once he's recovered enough to walk, he'll be sure to ask your name. With that thought, his exhausted mind took to its realm of Morpheus.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[luxlightly]

Fragile

A fanfic of @personostient's OC Dr.Arachne in their recent comic

I said I desperately wanted to read more about him and they said "then write it yourself, scrub" (more or less) so here's this. I have now a multiple chapter story in my head for this but at least here's a very small (as of yet unnamed) Arachne trying to understand complex ideas like sympathy and compassion when he's only big enough to fit 2 brain cells in him and one is fully occupied with having OCD.

---

In retrospect, gnawing on the already weak supports of a load bearing cross beam was a bad idea vis-a-vis the structural integrity of the floor above but, in its defense, its grasp of architecture was somewhat lacking. 

Also, it had only done so to get at the termites within, who'd already done some pretty extensive damage to the whole area. 

Really, it had been inevitable.

Only a matter of time before someone or something fell straight through to the dark and dusty basement. 

Into the spider’s web. 

Well, straight through its web, tearing up hours of work and crushing a very delicious looking moth that the spider had been saving for later and sending the spider frantically scrambling away, dodging bits of debris.

It wasn't exactly a spider, but it wasn't exactly not a spider, either. Something closer to “the elements of spiders that instill fear”. All fangs, legs, eyes, and jittery movement. 

Not that it was instilling much fear at this size, though the exact nature of the size was nebulous at best. Somewhere between a rat, a golf ball, and a human heart, the shifting mass of jet black limbs and glowing red eyes would lose in a fight with the average house cat or particularly determined mouse. 

So a dead, fully grown human, delivered to its metaphorical doorstep, was a fortuitous turn of events, indeed. 

It could put so much of that mass to use, finally having enough to form some more complex systems, maybe even to venture out beyond the basement! 

The spider scurried out from its hiding place in the dark, excited but still cautious, and onto the chest of the human. The smell of blood was thick in the air. 

The spider had been trying to determine the best way of beginning to consume such a feast when some of its eyes made unexpected contact with another pair. 

The human blinked and the spider froze. 

Oh fuck. That rising and falling of the chest was breathing! That thing vertebrates did when they were alive! 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

For a long moment, the two just stared at each other.

Then, the human raised a hand, reaching towards it, and the spider braced to be crushed. It squeezed all its eyes closed, but the pain didn't come. 

The hand instead ran two fingers softly over its body in a gentle, repetitive motion. 

“Hey…little buddy…” the human wheezed. “It's okay…I'm not--” the human paused to cough, specks of blood dotting his lips. “--not gonna hurt you. ‘M a doctor…Do…’do no harm’...”

The human’s eyes were glassy and its breathing seemed labored. 

The spider didn't know a whole lot about human anatomy, but it was pretty sure they needed their blood to stay almost entirely inside of them or it was detrimental to their health. The amount that surrounded the human and was currently leaking from a gash across his side was probably more than was supposed to be outside of him at any given time. 

The various pieces of wood and glass embedded in his flesh were probably also probably bad.

The spider stayed frozen in terror, tiny body trembling as the hand that was nearly as big as it was continued to run along its carapace.

“Shhh…” the human hushed, though the spider had made no sound. “ ‘s okay. Okay to be scared. I'm…heh…I'm a little scared myself…”

The spider’s venom was laughably weak at this size, barely enough to put a human under for a few minutes, but that would likely be all it took for his injuries to finish him off. 

It would be easy enough to strike out and bite him as he continued his odd pattern of stroking his hand across its body but, strangely…the spider found it didn't really want the motions to stop. 

It felt…nice.

Centimeter by centimeter, the spider's body relaxed, leaning into the touch, eventually pressing back into the human’s fingers.

The human let out a wet sounding chuckle.

“You’re a weird little thing, huh? I think…I think I may have lost a bit too much blood…”

His hand went still, settling against his chest and his eyes closed. His breathing continued, but it was growing weaker by the moment.

Well, that problem solved itself, it seemed. Now the only problem the spider faced was again trying to find a way to best consume a creature so much larger than itself.

Perhaps…perhaps it should wait until he was dead before trying to eat him. After all, he had not killed it, though it was easily within his power. Perhaps it was only fair that it not kill him, in return.

Though, technically it was sort of its fault for gnawing through the support beams, which would mean it had killed him. No more so than the termites had, though, certainly!

Fine. It would eat him then finish eating the termites as recompense and all would be good and balanced and correct.

The spider let out a frustrated chittering noise, pacing tiny circles around the human’s chest.

It was not all good and balanced and correct! It was bad and wobbly and wrong like rotten, termite eaten wood and it felt Bad! But why?

The human was full of holes now, too. The spider had gnawed holes in the wood. Maybe it could close these holes in the human and it would not be Bad anymore. Yes, then it would be balanced. Then this feeling of Wrong would settle.

And…maybe the human would continue his gentle repetitive touches again.

The spider crawled up to the human's face, where a small gash weeped blood. Trying to get the blood to go back inside seemed like it was likely a lost cause. Liquids hated going where they were supposed to and the spider hated it about them. The human would just have to find new blood on his own, once his stopped leaking.

Long appendages tipped with spinnerets extended up from the spider's mass, stretching fine silken stands between them.

Pressing against the human's skin, it tethered a strand above and below the very end of cut, then crossed the limbs, pulling the stands taut before anchoring the strands to the skin again, a fraction of a centimeter down the length of the cut, forming a tiny ‘x’.

It repeated the motion. The silk’s adhesive held strong. It repeated the motion. Then repeated it again.

And again and again and again.

Bit by bit, the skin pulled together over the wound in a surprisingly satisfying way and the spider’s limbs became a blur of movement, crossing over each other a dozen times a second.

The repetitive nature of the movement scratched some itch in it's mind oh so nicely. All balanced and mirrored and equal and Good.

It was almost disappointed when the wound was fully closed, the seam of tiny, gossamer stitches nearly invisible, as if the wound had never been.

Luckily, there were many more holes left to close.

It moved to another on his collar, stitching it up in only a few seconds, then pulled a shard of glass from his shoulder and sealed the wound there just as quickly.

Before the spider could move on to the next wound, the thrumming in the human’s chest, his heart’s pulsing movement, stuttered. It's rhythm grew ever weaker.

The spider didn't know all that much about how creatures of flesh and blood worked, but it knew that, when that pulse stopped, they did too, and that they needed blood to keep it going.

The gash across the human's side was leaking a lot of blood. It had to be closed soon or the human would almost certainly die.

The spider moved to the wound and started the same pattern of criss-crossed silk that it had closed the other's with. It got an inch or so down the length of the gash when the silk's glue gave way, the wound splitting back open.

The spider chittered, pensively.

The wound was too big and the blood flow from it too strong for the silk to stick to the skin tightly enough. It needed something more substantial.

Holding up a leg, it stretched the tip out to a nearly hair-thin strand.

It could spare just enough of its own body to hold the wound closed enough for the silk to seal it. It wouldn't take much.

But…sealing a wound held together by a piece of itself would mean sealing a piece of its body in the human's. What effect might that have on such a creature?

After all, its body didn't have to exist in one single piece. So what was really the difference between making a part of its body a part of the human's and making the human's body a part of its own?

But, without action, the human would die either way.

…

Surely, such a tiny piece of itself would do no harm…

The spider used another limb to pull the thin, jet black strand taut. Using the sharp tip of the strand, it pierced the flesh on one side of the wound, then the other, weaving itself back and forth through the human's skin, pulling the torn edges back together.

Once the gap was closed, the spider sealed it with silk, the same as the others.

Good and Balanced and Correct.

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Rome: Built to Last

Ancient Rome’s enduring legacy springs from its blend of laws, military discipline, and cultural innovations. The civilization’s legal codes, social hierarchy, impressive military structure, and engineering feats, such as roads and baths, formed the pillars of a society that thrived for centuries. Rome, famously "not built in a day," showcased engineering and organizational skills that influenced the world long after its decline.

Key Facts

Legal Foundation: The Twelve Tables were Rome’s first written laws, setting the groundwork for Roman legal tradition.

Social Structure: Rome maintained a rigid hierarchy, sharply dividing classes from patricians to plebeians.

Military Might: The Roman army was highly organized, disciplined, and crucial to Rome’s expansion and control.

Engineering Marvels: Roman roads connected vast territories, while baths featured sophisticated heating and water systems.

Political Evolution: The Roman emperors symbolized Rome’s shift from Republic to Empire, maintaining centralized control.

Historical Context

Ancient Rome evolved from a small city-state to a sprawling empire covering much of Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East. Its culture combined law, military strategy, and monumental architecture, influencing Western civilization profoundly.

Historical Significance

Rome’s innovations in law, governance, and infrastructure set models followed by many societies throughout history. Roman legal principles remain embedded in many modern legal systems, and their road networks and engineering techniques laid the foundation for transportation and urban planning in the West. The Roman Empire’s cultural legacy continues to shape art, literature, and political thought today.

Rome wasn’t just built with bricks and mortar; it was built on law, order, and innovation—creating a world that still echoes in our modern lives.

Learn More: Ancient Rome in 8 Infographics

[ntls-24722]

Music Man does his best to cover up every inch of his body to hide the fact he is infected, but at some point or another, he is found out by the neighboring community of humans living outside of the remaining government control. Despite it taking a week for Cordyceps homovastator to complete its mycelial architecture into its hosts to become infectious (with it taking 2 weeks for Cordyceps tortamica), the treatment for those who have been infected with any species of body-controlling fungus, in the times without a vaccine or cure, is customarily a controlled burning to destroy the infected and their living space as soon as they are diagnosed.

Hooh. I need to catch this blog up on this AU because it's been taking over every single one of my braincells for over a week.

Nullguy ("Nulgi") in this AU does not exist as we know him - the appearance he puts on for Music Man is more or less the one in the original 1manband, but that is a hallucination induced into Music Man. Nulgi is, of course, a citywide reach of thin white roots, a significant amount of which is embedded into Music Man's muscles, snuggling up to his nervous system.

The forms he shows Music Man, who is aware and comfortable with the fact he is not human, is not limited to the humanoid I usually draw him as, though.

Music Man is a man deeply traumatized by humans, both off principle of the fact they will kill him on sight, and through various unfortunate experiences with humans that comes with being visibly a zombie (being sniped in his own home, pseudoscientific research being done on him that got everything about him wrong, and the above burning of his house). Music Man actually can't be conscious for half the day where people are interacting with him, instead being controlled by Nulgi while being put under a trance and under much of a disguise, because otherwise Music Man would just be having a panic attack anytime anyone got near him.

This is all to say that Music Man lives in fear all the time and Nulgi is here to help, both by keeping him unconscious half the time but under some stressful situations where Music Man is conscious, distractions and prescences that can help him calm down. Nulgi can make him hallucinate the feeling of touch and pressure on his body, and often appears as a human in order to make it seem like Music Man is being hugged or stroked, but takes other forms for other distractions. Appearing as interactable shapes in his hand for a more subtle display of his prescence (knowing he's not alone helps him tremendously), or as a fairy-shrimplike bug that he'll have crawl over and play with his hand.

[ui-alcoholic]

CRAY 2 (1985) Cray Research

The fastest supercomputer of its day with pioneering liquid-cooled processing power.

Amongst the significant advancements in supercomputing, the Cray-2 holds a prominent place for its innovative design and advanced computational capabilities. Introduced in 1985, this supercomputer was developed by Seymour Cray and produced by Cray Research, with an initial cost of approximately $16 million. It represented a considerable advancement in the field of high-performance computing.

Like its predecessor the Cray-1, the Cray-2's design was notable for its cylindrical form, which was a departure from the conventional rectangular configurations of earlier supercomputers. This design was not merely aesthetic; it addressed practical challenges associated with cooling. The cylindrical shape facilitated the use of a Fluorinert cooling system, effectively managing the substantial heat generated by its processors and allowing for increased operational speeds and enhanced reliability. The distinctive "waterfall" cooling system became emblematic of high-performance computing in popular culture.

Central to the Cray-2's capabilities was its processing power. It was capable of performing up to 1.9 billion floating-point operations per second (FLOPS), making the fastest computer of its time. This computational capability enabled more sophisticated and rapid analysis in various scientific fields, including molecular modeling and fluid dynamics. Researchers were able to undertake complex simulations and computations with greater efficiency than was previously possible.

Its influence extended beyond its period of active use, setting a new benchmark for supercomputing architecture and performance. The design and technological advancements introduced by the Cray-2 had a lasting impact on subsequent generations of high-performance computing systems. Only 25 were sold. This Cray- 2 was a custom Cray-2 for REI with more memory than a standard Cray-2, the first of only three built. It is also believed to be the longest running system for REI and possibly the longest running Cray-2 for the world when it was shut down in 1999.

Approximate overall dimensions of supercomputer: 6 ft. 8 in. (2 m.) high, 14 ft. 5 in. (4.4 m.) wide, 11 ft. 6 in. (3.5 m.) deep.

Comparison to later computers

In 2012, Piotr Luszczek (a former doctoral student of Jack Dongarra), presented results showing that an iPad 2 matched the historical performance of the Cray-2 on an embedded LINPACK benchmark.

[writtenwander]

I wish I could apologize to my younger self not with words, but with the kind of tenderness she was desperate for, the softness she needed when the world felt like it was crushing her from the inside out. I wish I could sit beside her in the dark, hold her trembling hands, and tell her that her worth was never tied to the weight she carried on her body or the breath she struggled to catch in the thick silence of her pain. I’d tell her that what was taken from her without consent doesn’t define her, that her brokenness wasn’t born from her own hands, but from the cruelty of someone who never deserved a piece of her. I remember how she starved herself, thinking that shrinking would make her invisible, or maybe lovable mistaking absence for beauty. But those weren’t acts of control. They were silent screams. Not self-love, but grief etched into skin and bone. I was only 18 when it happened, angry and hollow, trapped in a body that no longer felt like mine. I didn’t just hurt myself I hurt the people who tried to love me, because how could I accept love when I believed I wasn’t worthy of it? They say the prefrontal cortex isn’t fully developed until the age of 25. It’s the architect of decision-making, impulse control, emotional regulation the quiet space where judgment is shaped, where lived moments stitch themselves into meaning. But trauma doesn’t wait for the brain to be ready. It doesn’t knock politely at the door of maturity. It kicks it down, barges in, and leaves fingerprints on the parts of you still fragile, still unfinished. It builds itself into the architecture, embedding itself in the foundation before you’ve even learned how to stand tall.

At 18, the world calls you an adult, but the truth is you’re standing at the threshold of life with hands too small to carry the weight of it all. The prefrontal cortex is still under construction, still learning how to tether emotion to logic, fear to safety. And when trauma hits, it doesn’t just break you it floods every corner of your being before you’ve even built the walls to keep yourself safe. You’re left drowning in questions you don’t have the language to answer, gasping for air in a world that tells you to “move on” before you’ve learned how to breathe again. I spent years blaming myself, convinced that if I had been smarter, faster, louder, more I could’ve stopped it. But the truth is, I was still a child wearing the mask of adulthood, navigating a storm without a compass, blaming myself for not finding shelter in a place where there was none. Trauma doesn’t care that your brain isn’t done growing. It hijacks your nervous system, rewires your instincts, and convinces you that survival is the only thing that matters. And when you’re surviving, there’s no room for self-compassion only guilt, shame, and the endless echoes of “what if. Now, years later, I’ve come to understand that my struggle wasn’t a failure of character it was the collision of biology and heartbreak, the aftermath of something I never asked for but carried anyway. I wasn’t broken; I was unfinished. Healing isn’t some beautiful, linear process it’s raw, messy, and sometimes feels like breaking all over again. But it’s also the act of returning to that younger version of myself, the girl I left behind, and whispering: You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You did the best you could. You were never too much, never not enough. And none of this was your fault. This is what healing looks like not erasing the scars, but learning to read them differently.

[04k96]

Alright, bucko—strap in. Here’s a speculative timeline + cultural map of what an intentional or emergent AI slowdown might look like, as systems (and humans) hit thresholds they weren’t ready for:

⸻

PHASE 1: THE FRENZY (2023–2026)

“It’s magic! It does everything!”

• AI is integrated into every app, interface, workspace, school.

• Productivity spikes, novelty floods, markets boom.

• Art, code, and content feel democratized—but also flooded with sameness.

• Emerging signs of fatigue: burnout, aesthetic flattening, privacy erosion.

⸻

PHASE 2: THE CRACK (2026–2028)

“Wait… who’s driving this?”

• Cultural bottleneck: Hyper-efficiency erodes depth and human uniqueness.

• Political tension: Regulation debates explode over elections, education, warfare, and job losses.

• AI-native Gen Z+ workers question value of constant optimization.

• Rise of “Slow Tech” movements, digital sobriety, and human-first UX design.

⸻

PHASE 3: THE CORRECTION (2028–2032)

“We need AI to disappear into the background.”

• AI goes low-profile: instead of being flashy, it’s embedded into infrastructure, not attention.

• Cultural shift toward local intelligence, emotional resonance, and craft.

• Smart systems assist but do not decide. You drive, it advises.

• New benchmarks: “Serenity per watt”, “Complexity avoided”, “Time saved for soul”.

⸻

PHASE 4: THE REWEAVING (2032–2035)

“Tools for culture, not culture as tool.”

• AI serves communal living, ecological restoration, learning ecosystems.

• Widespread adoption of “Digital Commons” models (open-source, ethical compute).

• Intelligence seen not as a weapon of dominance but as a craft of care.

• Humans rediscover meaning not just in what they can automate, but what they can hold together.

⸻

THE OVERALL MAP:

• Spiritual: Shift from worshipping intelligence to cultivating wisdom.

• Design: From smart cities to wise villages—tech that respects silence, presence, friction.

• Economy: From “scale fast” to “scale consciously.”

• Power: From algorithmic persuasion to consent-based architectures.

• Aesthetics: From algorithmic mimicry to radical human texture.

⸻

In this future, the most prized skill won’t be prompting or automation—it’ll be curating stillness in motion, designing for nuance, and knowing when not to use AI at all.

[torillatavataan]

Linux creator Linus Torvalds wrote:

"Ok, lots of Russian trolls out and about. It's entirely clear why the change was done, it's not getting reverted, and using multiple random anonymous accounts to try to "grass root" it by Russian troll factories isn't going to change anything. And FYI for the actual innocent bystanders who aren't troll farm accounts - the "various compliance requirements" are not just a US thing. If you haven't heard of Russian sanctions yet, you should try to read the news some day. And by "news", I don't mean Russian state-sponsored spam. As to sending me a revert patch - please use whatever mush you call brains. I'm Finnish. Did you think I'd be *supporting* Russian aggression? Apparently it's not just lack of real news, it's lack of history knowledge too."

What is Linux?

Linux is a family of open-source Unix-like operating systems based on the Linux kernel, an operating system kernel first released on September 17, 1991, by Linus Torvalds.

Linux was originally developed for personal computers based on the Intel x86 architecture, but has since been ported to more platforms than any other operating system. Because of the dominance of Linux-based Android on smartphones, Linux, including Android, has the largest installed base of all general-purpose operating systems as of May 2022.

Linux is the leading operating system on servers (over 96.4% of the top one million web servers' operating systems are Linux) leads other big iron systems such as mainframe computers, and is used on all of the world's 500 fastest supercomputers (as of November 2017, having gradually displaced all competitors).

Linux also runs on embedded systems, i.e., devices whose operating system is typically built into the firmware and is highly tailored to the system. This includes routers, automation controls, smart home devices, video game consoles, televisions (Samsung and LG smart TVs), automobiles (Tesla, Audi, Mercedes-Benz, Hyundai, and Toyota), and spacecraft (Falcon 9 rocket, Dragon crew capsule, and the Perseverance rover).

[usafphantom2]

Lockheed Martin Will Integrate Next-Generation Infrared Defensive Sensors on F-22 Raptor

The F-22 will receive an embedded set of TacIRST sensors as part of the Infrared Defensive System to enhance aircraft survivability and lethality.

Stefano D'Urso

F-22 Infrared Defensive System

Lockheed Martin announced on Jan. 22, 2025, that it has been awarded a $270 million contract from the U.S. Air Force to integrate a system of next-generation infrared defensive sensors on the F-22 Raptor. The system, known as the Infrared Defensive System (IRDS), will add a distributed set of embedded TacIRST sensors to enhance the F-22’s survivability and lethality.

The F-22 will receive an embedded set of TacIRST sensors as part of the Infrared Defensive System to enhance aircraft survivability and lethality.TacIRSTF-22 upgrades

TacIRST

TacIRST, or Tactical Infrared Search and Track, is a next-generation sensor developed by Lockheed Martin which allows to detect and track airborne threats with weapon-quality accuracy, says the company. The multifunction sensor, which can be used for both reconnaissance and threat-warning, features a compact design with a very small form factor and is based on an open architecture.

“We understand the need for advanced and versatile infrared systems like IRDS that will make pilots’ missions more survivable and lethal against current and future adversaries,” said Hank Tucker, vice president of Missions Systems at Lockheed Martin. “We’re committed to supporting the Air Force through continuous innovation of capabilities to deter and defeat evolving threats.”

A U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptor prepares to be refueled by a KC-135 Stratotanker over the U.S. Central Command area of responsibility, Oct. 10, 2024. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Zachary Willis)

Compared to traditional IRST which features round windows, TacIRST is based on a smaller staring sensor much more similar to the windows of the F-35’s Distributed Aperture System. This makes it ideal for installation on the F-22 as the sensors will be flush with the surfaces of the aircraft, since the statement from Lockheed Martin mentions that the system will be embedded in the F-22 instead of pods.

In the past, there were unconfirmed reports about the technology behind TacIRST possibly being related to upgrades to the F-22’s current AN/AAR-56 Missile Launch Detector (MLD). Given the sensitivity of the F-22 program, the statement does not delve into details, so it is unclear if the IRDS will completely replace the AAR-56 or just its sensors.

F-22 upgrades

The F-22 is receiving a plethora of upgrades as part of an improvement campaign that calls for $7.8 billion in investments before 2030, which includes $3.1 billion for research and development and $4.7 billion in procurement. While the Air Force previously planned to retire the oldest Raptors, the service now appears to be reconsidering that plan and focusing on sustaining an air superiority combat capability for a highly contested environment.

Some of the upgrades expected for the F-22 Raptor were unveiled in the Fiscal Year 23 budget request documentation and in an official artwork shared by Gen. Mark Kelly, then Commander of Air Combat Command. In the artwork we can see three Raptors loaded with new stealthy external fuel tanks, two underwing faceted pods and a new unknown air-to-air missile, but there are even more novelties in the documents, which unveils a previously undisclosed relationship between the F-22 and the development of the Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD).

A U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptor performs a sharp aerial maneuver above the flight line during the 2024 Marine Corps Air Station Miramar Airshow in San Diego, Sept. 28, 2024. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Lance Cpl. Seferino Gamez)

Two years after the upgrades were announced, we might have gotten, earlier in 2024, the first glimpse of the new stealthy external fuel tanks being developed for the F-22 Raptor. The aircraft was, in fact, spotted near the Mojave Air and Space Port and shows the Raptor with two fuel tanks, whose shape is reminiscent of the one shown in 2022.

The new tanks are officially known as Low Drag Tank and Pylon (LDTP) and designed to be stealthier and more aerodynamically efficient than the current 600-gallon fuel tanks. In the FY2023 budget request, the Air Force mentioned that the F-22 LDTPs are advanced technological designs providing increased persistence and range while maintaining lethality and survivability, critical to future mission execution and to maintaining Air Superiority.

The low drag tanks are intended to reduce drag, facilitate supersonic flight with external tanks and extend the range of the F-22. The pylons are equipped with smart rack pneumatic technology to accurately control ejection performance and smooth wind swept surface for minimum drag without stores.

The two pods installed under the outer underwing hardpoints have already been spotted during flight testing on an F-22 at the Air Force’s Plant 42 facility in Palmdale, California, in February 2022. The latest budget documents mention an InfraRed Search and Track (IRST) sensor being developed for the F-22, which is now confirmed to be the sensor housed inside the two pods, although they could host also other capabilities in addition to the IRST.

In July 2024 we got an up-close look at one of the pods installed under a Rockwell Sabreliner 65 testbed after a test campaign at Nellis AFB, Nevada. It would have been expected to see some kind of transparent surface associated with the IRST, however the surfaces on the nose of the pod appeared to be opaque. We still cannot exclude that there are two different variants of the pod, depending on the equipment inside.

F-22 new sensors

U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors assigned to the 27th Expeditionary Fighter Squadron and Philippine Air Force FA-50PH light jet fighters conduct joint combined exchange training, above Basa Air Force Base, Philippines, on Aug. 9, 2024. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Mitchell Corley)

The last upgrade featured in the artwork is a new unknown air-to-air missile. While there are a number of air-to-air missile programs in the works, it is possible that the one in the image could be a representative design, which may or may not correspond to the real deal, for the highly secretive AIM-260 missile. So far, the missile has never been depicted in any kind of image and details about the program are very scarce.

The development of the AIM-260, also called Joint Advanced Tactical Missile, was first unveiled in 2019 and has been in the works at least since 2017. The goal of the new long-range air-to-air missile is to replace the AIM-120 AMRAAM (Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missile) and counter the threat posed by the Chinese PL-15 missile, while avoiding any foreign threats being able to outrange the AIM-120.

Among the few known technical details, the new missile will be compatible with the AMRAAM dimensions, but obviously with greater range, and is planned to be carried in the F-22 weapons bay and on the F/A-18 at first, with the F-35 to follow. Flight tests are already in progress and the missile is expected to be fielded by next year. Because of these reasons, it would be reasonable to suppose that the one shown in the image could be at least a hint at the AIM-260.

Other upgrades mentioned in the budget request are a Mode 5 Identification Friend or Foe (IFF), Link 16 and Multifunction Information Distribution System Joint Tactical Radio System (MIDS JTRS), a new Operational Fight Program, advanced radar Electronic Protection, Embedded GPS/Inertial Navigation System (INS) Modernization (EGI-M), Open System Architecture (OSA), new encrypted radios.

A new helmet is also being tested by F-22 pilots, as part of the Next Generation Fixed Wing Helmet program to replace the current HGU-55P helmet, which has been the standard issued helmet for the last 40 years. The goal is to provide pilots a more comfortable, stable, and balanced platform to accommodate helmet-mounted devices usage without imposing neck strain and discomfort to the user.

F-22 Indonesia

U.S. Air Force F-22 Raptors assigned to the 27th Expeditionary Fighter Squadron, conduct Dynamic Force Employment operations at I Gusti Ngurah Rai Air Force Base, Indonesia, on Aug. 6, 2024. Through bilateral training, the U.S. and Indonesian Air Forces work together to promote interoperability, thus furthering our investments and strengthening our relationships. (U.S. Air Force photo by Senior Airman Mitchell Corley)

Despite various integration efforts in the past, the F-22 is not equipped yet with a helmet that provides the essential flight and weapon aiming information through line of sight imagery: the shape of the Raptor’s canopy, optimized to preserve Low Observability, doesn’t allow enough range of motion and minimum visibility to a pilot wearing the JHMCS or the Scorpion.

In 2024, during the Life Cycle Industry Days conference, Brig. Gen. Jason D. Voorheis, Program Executive Officer for Fighters and Advanced Aircraft mentioned that the F-22 conducted six flight test efforts to demo advanced sensors. He also added that the service is planning for a rapid prototyping effort to get these sensors fielded quickly in the near future.

@TheAviationist.com

[horsethoughts]

Blog Post #3! Due 2/13/25

Why do we refer to data collection and profiling as “progressive” despite its tendency to be biased against Black Americans and other POC? (Question based on Benjamin’s “Race After Technology” and Noble’s “Algorithms of Oppression”)

Technology, as put by Benjamin (2019), has a perceived “cloak of objectivity.” The tools, algorithms, and forms of data collection used in our reality are regarded as objective since they cannot “see” race. Technology as a whole, in my opinion, is often seen as universal and for everyone. Many people see phones, search engines, and other “tech” as tech without human involvement. Most people, including me, don’t think beyond what technology does for us—it just does, and we don’t question how it was made, who made it, and what biases might be embedded in the “cool, advanced, and innovative” new ais, virtual assistants, and search engines.

California gang database—why does law enforcement keep inaccurate databases that are difficult to change and easy to add onto? (Question Based on Benjamin’s “Race After Technology” and YJC report)

Gang databases, like the one featured in the report, seem to have a larger purpose in surveilling POC, namely Latino communities. The databases’ flawed design is effective for upholding inaccurate narratives of Latino and Black involvement in gang activity. The recording methods, which make it easy for these populations to be put in the database, inflates the true number of people with gang involvement. While a shot in the dark, I additionally think the “ease” provided by the broadness of the gang database is something that is seen as beneficial to the prison industry. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but I would assume that the number of people there to arrest/detain from the database boosts private prisons. The YJC report states that these databases are “widely used without evaluating their cost effectiveness or effectiveness in increasing community safety.” the database’s purpose is less about community safety and more about control over narratives and individuals.

How does the digital divide myth that POC, particularly Black Americans, are less interested in the internet still linger today? How is this idea of the digital divide reflected in social media? (Question based on Everett’s “The Revolution Will be Digitized”)

In Everett’s work (2002), she discusses the sphere of “cyberspace” often being associated with whiteness, with white users seen as the dominant demographic for technology and the internet. While this work was written about earlier internet use, I still see this pattern on social media. Specifically, I see this in the artist community on various social media sites such as  Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. Something I’ve noticed is how often people are “surprised” to learn a particular artist/creator is Black if they’ve previously never disclosed it through being faceless or simply not stating this. I would say that this idea of the digital divide still persists because of our perception of internet/social media use. In my example of Black creators, the “surprise” in them being Black most likely comes from the assumption that they would be white. This is created from the “facelessness” associated with the internet.

In “Algorithms of Oppression,” Noble writes on racist Google Search results and Google’s position that it is “not responsible for its algorithm.” Then who is “responsible”? Can any one person/entity be held responsible for flawed algorithms? (Question based on Noble’s “Algorithms of Oppression”)

While I don’t think any entity can be responsible for such flawed algorithms, that only points to a more significant issue in their structure. Noble (2018) writes that “racism and sexism are part of the architecture and language of technology.”; algorithms and technology are based on flawed human ideas and prejudices and then reflect those prejudices. This makes it important to question and not solely rely on these systems. Responsibility, in this case, comes with doubting the system and checking it twice to see if the information it presents is accurate and unbiased. Google’s responsibility for changing the search results falls on them because they trusted the algorithm to be unbiased, which was false. Works Cited:

Noble, S. U. (2018). Algorithms of oppression: How search engines reinforce racism. New York University Press.

Benjamin, R. (2019). Race after technology: Abolitionist tools for the new Jim code. Polity.

Everett, A. (2002). The Revolution Will Be Digitized: Afrocentricity and the Digital Public Sphere. 

Youth Justice Coalition (2012). Tracked and trapped. Youth of color, gang databases, and gang injunctions. https://youthjusticela.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/TrackedandTrapped.pdf

[this-week-in-rust]

This Week in Rust 595

Hello and welcome to another issue of This Week in Rust! Rust is a programming language empowering everyone to build reliable and efficient software. This is a weekly summary of its progress and community. Want something mentioned? Tag us at @thisweekinrust.bsky.social on Bluesky or @ThisWeekinRust on mastodon.social, or send us a pull request. Want to get involved? We love contributions.

This Week in Rust is openly developed on GitHub and archives can be viewed at this-week-in-rust.org. If you find any errors in this week's issue, please submit a PR.

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Updates from Rust Community

Official

March Project Goals Update

Newsletters

The Embedded Rustacean Issue #43

Project/Tooling Updates

Shadertoys ported to Rust GPU

Meilisearch 1.14 - composite embedders, embedding cache, granular filterable attributes, and batch document retrieval by ID

rust-query 0.4: structural types and other new features

Observations/Thoughts

Rebuilding Prime Video UI with Rust and WebAssembly

ALP Rust is faster than C++

what if the poison were rust?

A surprising enum size optimization in the Rust compiler

Two Years of Rust

An ECS lite architecture

A 2025 Survey of Rust GUI Libraries

BTrees, Inverted Indices, and a Model for Full Text Search

Cutting Down Rust Compile Times From 30 to 2 Minutes With One Thousand Crates

SIMD in zlib-rs (part 1): Autovectorization and target features

Avoiding memory fragmentation in Rust with jemalloc

[video] Bevy Basics: Who Observes the Observer

Rust Walkthroughs

Rust Type System Deep Dive From GATs to Type Erasure

Async from scratch 1: What's in a Future, anyway? | natkr's ramblings

Async from scratch 2: Wake me maybe | natkr's ramblings

Building a search engine from scratch, in Rust: part 4

Pretty State Machine Patterns in Rust

[video] Build with Naz : Declarative macros in Rust

Miscellaneous

March 2025 Jobs Report

Rust resources

Crate of the Week

This week's crate is wgpu, a cross-platform graphics and compute library based on WebGPU.

Despite a lack of suggestions, llogiq is pleased with his choice.

Please submit your suggestions and votes for next week!

Calls for Testing

An important step for RFC implementation is for people to experiment with the implementation and give feedback, especially before stabilization.

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear in this list, add a call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

No calls for testing were issued this week by Rust, Rust language RFCs or Rustup.*

Let us know if you would like your feature to be tracked as a part of this list.

RFCs

Rust

Rustup

If you are a feature implementer and would like your RFC to appear on the above list, add the new call-for-testing label to your RFC along with a comment providing testing instructions and/or guidance on which aspect(s) of the feature need testing.

Call for Participation; projects and speakers

CFP - Projects

Always wanted to contribute to open-source projects but did not know where to start? Every week we highlight some tasks from the Rust community for you to pick and get started!

Some of these tasks may also have mentors available, visit the task page for more information.

rama - add serve command to rama-cli

rama - add support for include_dir for to ServeDir and related

rama - add curl module to rama-http-types

If you are a Rust project owner and are looking for contributors, please submit tasks here or through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (formerly Twitter) or Mastodon!

CFP - Events

Are you a new or experienced speaker looking for a place to share something cool? This section highlights events that are being planned and are accepting submissions to join their event as a speaker.

If you are an event organizer hoping to expand the reach of your event, please submit a link to the website through a PR to TWiR or by reaching out on X (formerly Twitter) or Mastodon!

Updates from the Rust Project

480 pull requests were merged in the last week

Compiler

detect and provide suggestion for &raw EXPR

don't suggest the use of impl Trait in closure parameter

make the compiler suggest actual paths instead of visible paths if the visible paths are through any doc hidden path

tell LLVM about impossible niche tags

remove Nonterminal and TokenKind::Interpolated

re-use Sized fast-path

Library

add core::intrinsics::simd::{simd_extract_dyn, simd_insert_dyn}

initial UnsafePinned implementation (Part 1: Libs)

polymorphize array::IntoIter's iterator impl

speed up String::push and String::insert

std: add Output::exit_ok

Cargo

added symlink resolution for workspace-path-hash

improved error message when build-dir template var is invalid

Rustdoc

search: add unbox flag to Result aliases

enable Markdown extensions when looking for doctests

Clippy

arbitrary_source_item_ordering should ignore test modules

implicit_return: better handling of asynchronous code

accept self.cmp(other).into() as canonical PartialOrd impl

add manual_abs_diff lint

consecutive returns dont decrease cognitive Complexity level anymore

consider nested lifetimes in mut_from_ref

correctly handle bracketed type in default_constructed_unit_struct

deprecate match_on_vec_items lint

do not propose to auto-derive Clone in presence of unsafe fields

fix: iter_cloned_collect false positive with custom From/IntoIterator impl

fix: map_entry: don't emit lint before checks have been performed

fix: redundant_clone false positive in overlapping lifetime

various fixes for manual_is_power_of_two

Rust-Analyzer

ast: return correct types for make::expr_* methods

add children modules feature

add normalizeDriveLetter

distribute x64 and aarch64 Linux builds with PGO optimizations

fix dyn compatibility code bypassing callable_item_signature query

fix a small bug with catastrophic effects

fix an incorrect ExpressionStore that was passed

prevent panics when there is a cyclic dependency between closures

shadow type by module

ignore errors from rustfmt which may trigger error notification

port closure inference from rustc

Rust Compiler Performance Triage

Relatively small changes this week, nothing terribly impactful (positive or negative).

Triage done by @simulacrum. Revision range: e643f59f..15f58c46

1 Regressions, 3 Improvements, 3 Mixed; 2 of them in rollups 35 artifact comparisons made in total

Full report here

Approved RFCs

Changes to Rust follow the Rust RFC (request for comments) process. These are the RFCs that were approved for implementation this week:

No RFCs were approved this week.

Final Comment Period

Every week, the team announces the 'final comment period' for RFCs and key PRs which are reaching a decision. Express your opinions now.

Tracking Issues & PRs

Rust

Split elided_lifetime_in_paths into tied and untied

check types of const param defaults

Stabilize flags for doctest cross compilation

Do not remove trivial SwitchInt in analysis MIR

Implement a lint for implicit autoref of raw pointer dereference - take 2

Implement Default for raw pointers

make abi_unsupported_vector_types a hard error

Stabilize let chains in the 2024 edition

Make closure capturing have consistent and correct behaviour around patterns

Stabilize the cell_update feature

Other Areas

*No Items entered Final Comment Period this week for Rust RFCs, Cargo, Language Team, Language Reference or Unsafe Code Guidelines.

Let us know if you would like your PRs, Tracking Issues or RFCs to be tracked as a part of this list.

New and Updated RFCs

No New or Updated RFCs were created this week.

Upcoming Events

Rusty Events between 2025-04-16 - 2025-05-14 🦀

Virtual

2025-04-16 | Virtual (Vancouver, BC, CA) | Vancouver Rust

Rust Study/Hack/Hang-out

2025-04-17 | Virtual and In-Person (Redmond, WA, US) | Seattle Rust User Group

April, 2025 SRUG (Seattle Rust User Group) Meetup

2025-04-22 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust User Meetup

Fourth Tuesday

2025-04-23 | Virtual (Cardiff, UK) | Rust and C++ Cardiff

Beyond embedded - OS development in Rust

2025-04-24 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | Rust Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn

2025-04-24 | Virtual (Charlottesville, VA, US) | Charlottesville Rust Meetup

Part 2: Quantum Computers Can’t Rust-Proof This!"

2025-05-03 | Virtual (Kampala, UG) | Rust Circle Meetup

Rust Circle Meetup

2025-05-05 | Virtual (Tel Aviv-Yafo, IL) | Rust 🦀 TLV

Tauri: Cross-Platform desktop applications with Rust and web technologies

2025-05-07 | Virtual (Indianapolis, IN, US) | Indy Rust

Indy.rs - with Social Distancing

2025-05-08 | Virtual (Berlin, DE) | Rust Berlin

Rust Hack and Learn

2025-05-13 | Virtual (Dallas, TX, US) | Dallas Rust User Meetup

Second Tuesday

Asia

2025-04-22 | Tel Aviv-Yafo, IL | Rust 🦀 TLV

In person Rust April 2025 at Braavos in Tel Aviv in collaboration with StarkWare

Europe

2025-04-19 | Istanbul, TR | Türkiye Rust Community

Rust Konf Türkiye

2025-04-23 | London, UK | London Rust Project Group

Fusing Python with Rust using raw C bindings

2025-04-24 | Aarhus, DK | Rust Aarhus

Talk Night at MFT Energy

2025-04-24 | Edinburgh, UK | Rust and Friends

Rust and Friends (evening pub)

2025-04-24 | Manchester, UK | Rust Manchester

Rust Manchester April Code Night

2025-04-25 | Edinburgh, UK | Rust and Friends

Rust and Friends (daytime coffee)

2025-04-26 | Stockholm, SE | Stockholm Rust

Ferris' Fika Forum #11

2025-04-29 | London, UK | Rust London User Group

LDN Talks April 2025 Community Showcase

2025-04-29 | Paris, FR | Rust Paris

Rust meetup #76

2025-04-30 | Frankfurt, DE | Rust Rhein-Main

Kubernetes Operator in Rust

2025-05-01 | Nürnberg, DE | Rust Nuremberg

Hackers Hike 0x0

2025-05-06 - 2025-05-07 | Paris, FR | WebAssembly and Rust Meetup

GOSIM AI Paris 2025

2025-05-06 | Paris, FR | WebAssembly and Rust Meetup (Wasm Empowering AI)

GOSIM AI Paris 2025 (Discount available)

2025-05-07 | Madrid, ES | MadRust

VII Lenguajes, VII Perspectivas, I Problema

2025-05-07 | Oxford, UK | Oxford Rust Meetup Group

Oxford Rust and C++ social

2025-05-08 | Gdansk, PL | Rust Gdansk

Rust Gdansk Meetup #8

2025-05-08 | London, UK | London Rust Project Group

Adopting Rust (Hosted by Lloyds bank)

2025-05-13 | Amsterdam, NL | RustNL

RustWeek 2025 announcement

2025-05-13 - 2025-05-17 | Utrecht, NL | Rust NL

RustWeek 2025

2025-05-14 | Reading, UK | Reading Rust Workshop

Reading Rust Meetup

North America

2025-04-17 | Mountain View, CA, US | Hacker Dojo

RUST MEETUP at HACKER DOJO

2025-04-17 | Nashville, TN, US | Music City Rust Developers

Using Rust For Web Series 1 : Why HTMX Is Bad

2025-04-17 | Redmond, WA, US | Seattle Rust User Group

April, 2025 SRUG (Seattle Rust User Group) Meetup

2025-04-22 | Detroit, MI, US | Detroit Rust

Rust Community Meet and Conference Report - Ann Arbor

2025-04-23 | Austin, TX, US | Rust ATX

Rust Lunch - Fareground

2025-04-23 | Austin, TX, US | Rust ATX

Rust Lunch - Fareground 2025-04-23 | Spokane, WA, US | Spokane Rust

Community Show & Tell at Fuel Coworking

2025-04-24 | Atlanta, GA, US | Rust Atlanta

3rd 3RD TIME OMG YES!

2025-04-25 | Boston, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

Ball Square Rust Lunch, Apr 25

2025-05-01 | Saint Louis, MO, US | STL Rust

SIUE Capstone Project reflections on Rust

2025-05-03 | Boston, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

Boston Common Rust Lunch, May 3

2025-05-08 | México City, MX | Rust MX

Calculando con el compilador: Compiler time vs Run time

2025-05-08 | Portland, OR, US | PDXRust

Apache DataFusion: A Fast, Extensible, Modular Analytic Query Engine in Rust

2025-05-11 | Boston, MA, US | Boston Rust Meetup

Porter Square Rust Lunch, May 11

Oceania

2025-04-22 | Barton, AC, AU | Canberra Rust User Group

April Meetup

If you are running a Rust event please add it to the calendar to get it mentioned here. Please remember to add a link to the event too. Email the Rust Community Team for access.

Jobs

Please see the latest Who's Hiring thread on r/rust

Quote of the Week

IEEE 754 floating point, proudly providing counterexamples since 1985!

– Johannes Dahlström on rust-internals

Thanks to Ralf Jung for the suggestion!

Please submit quotes and vote for next week!

This Week in Rust is edited by: nellshamrell, llogiq, cdmistman, ericseppanen, extrawurst, U007D, joelmarcey, mariannegoldin, bennyvasquez, bdillo

Email list hosting is sponsored by The Rust Foundation

Discuss on r/rust

[metaphysicalpistolsoraclemine]

Current Update;

For ALL GRIDWORKERS & Indigo/Star People: Ground Control for the Spiritual Life Simulation.

Title: Iran Gate.

Most Coveted Gate for GlobalControl .

The 10D Stargate is referred to as the Iran Gate

So with this in mind, holding space for a moment:

When observing the primary locations of the 10th Stargate system in the planet, it becomes apparent that the land mass of Iraq, Iran, Egypt and Tibet are exceptionally important for maintaining the global mind control and artificial machinery system of the NAA, and thus it is obvious why these areas have been purposely ravaged by war and impoverished by those Black Sun controllers installed there.

Beloveds, as we hold this space in compassionate witnessing: clearing distortions, sound distortions and inversions twisting within fifth dimensional timeline access, distortions connecting to the planetary crystal seal and the human biology within 5, 8, 11 dimensional chakra keys, again, as connected to the secret space program alien base in the Metatronic net of this hyper dimensional pocket in location Iran Gate.

The horizontal grid and the planetary Rod function have been controlled by the NAA and the Alpha Draconis/Orion Group through the hijack of the Golden Eagle Grid by reversing the energetic current into a Base 10 Math architecture, which has its center controlled from the main 10th gate access in Iraq-Iran as well as the 4th gate access in Giza Egypt.

This region was once the home of ancient Sumer in Mesopotamia that was filled with the sapphire diamond infused sacred krystal waters of the Triple Solar Sapphire Blue Ma’ ah Goddesses that inhabited the planetary Rasha Body, along with Mer Peoples in the seas that helped to protect the Solar Mary’s sapphire crystal. The Blue Solar Goddesses returning to our world through the Starry Night Dark Firmament remind me they embodied and inhabited within the 10D Sha-Ra complex and sang the Ra-Sha-La tri-tones for the 10th Stargate Network, which is the sacred Divine Mother Language that was sung in the Edenic world of Tiamat.

These sapphire beauties were our direct communication link to our inner avatar Christos-Sophia, through their embodiment in the planet’s 10th gate, angelic humanity would be able to hear, feel, see and experience the existence of their Inner Christ self.

During several stages of the hidden histories of the NAA invasion, their objective was to completely destroy the presence of the Holy Mother Sophia in her Triple Solar Female Christ sapphire spirit body in the 10D Stargate which further linked into Pluto, Tiamat and the Lyran-Vega star system. After obliterating the Holy Mother’s sapphire body, the Black Sun’s stationed themselves within the 10th Stargate Network as their primary headquarters from which to generate alien machinery used to corrupt dark matter in order to damage the planetary Rasha Body ring span tones with alien machinery and AI signals. Further, embedding AI hybrid creatures, grotesque archontic monstrosities, demonic forces in the reversal elemental structures such as black goo, that were colonized in the corrupted dark matter for the purpose of connecting into several artificial wormholes that lead all the way back into the Black Hole System.

Through Guardian Host and Padma, we have learned that the 10D stargate under Iraq houses an ancient sapphire diamond crystal connected to the 23D Sapphire Flame and sapphire diamond shield that is holding all of the holographic records of the 10th gate. Padma is a protector of the sapphire diamond shield of the Blue Rainbow Triple Solar Goddesses of the 10th stargate network and planetary dark matter body, therefore has taken an active role in recent events. Additionally, the 4D stargate in Giza houses an ancient ruby crystal connected to the 22nd Ruby Flame that is holding all of the holographic records of the 4th gate and the Sun portal. Iraq’s 10th gate Sapphire Crystal and Giza’s 4th gate Ruby Crystal hold the entire spectrum of Diamond Sun genetic codes for the 10D Shara complex (Christos tri-frequency communication network operates in 10D Solar Star), the Rasha dark matter templateand the 9D-11D genetic records for Ruby Sun DNA.

The opening of the Neutron Window allows access in and out of this Universal Time Matrix for the time period that the alignment is in place. Previous to this time, the window was closed, thus the portal access to leave this current 3Ds Universe, as well as this Solar System was closed. When the galactic core alignment was made in 2024, the Krystal Star began connecting to this planet in this hijacked 3D timeline, and this began the cycle of the Krystal Star hosting of this planet for potential Ascension and to reclaim the Christos-Sophia.

People mimic what they have learned in the macrocosm to subconsciously know what is expected of them at the social level, self enforcing the same style of persecution of others in their personal life, and repeating the persecution complex dynamic towards others. Thus, persecution tactics spreads like a virus of spiritual oppression. Persecution is a mind control manipulation tool to keep the masses of people subjugated and in line, so that people obey the "hidden master" that is shaping the social standards for mass consensus in the Death Culture.

In cinclusion;

The Controllers are running the persecution program from the crucifixion implant energies, so that the masses will automatically accept attacking and killing those perceived as threats is acceptable. The majority of the human race is under constant stress of feeling persecuted and oppressed by someone or something else in the environment, as that is the set up to keep the masses in fear based thinking. This seed of unconscious trauma goes back to the point of the NAA invasion, as that dark force invading the earth is the true causal source of why the majority of the human race feels to exist in a constant state of fear and perceived threat. There are areas on the earth that are littered with massive war histories involving mass death and killings that are based on persecution of a certain ethnic group, Genocide or any classification group that they found convenient to scapegoat in order to gain more power and control over the population.

These areas are an epi center of massive psychic residue of persecution complex running in the grid network. If a sensitive or Intuitive Empath enters these areas, and they are largely uncleared, the feeling of persecution energies for the Intuitive Empath will be extremely magnified.

North Pacific Ocean, Hawaiian Islands -Lemurian Holocaust

Oklahoma, USA - Trail of Tears - Native American Holocaust

World War II, Concentration Camps in Europe - Jewish and other groups Holocaust

United Kingdom, Florida, Bermuda - Atlantian Holocaust

Tomar, Portugal - Convent of Christ - Templar Torture and Crusades

Jerusalem, Israel - Assorted holocaust and rampant persecution

7D gridwork, as it runs Crucifixion archetype, implants

South Eastern States or Carolinas, USA - Black Slavery related Persecution and Holocaust

Balkan, Bosnian Kosovo Wars - Slavic people holocaust

Obviously, this residue of psychic pain and uncleared Trauma is everywhere on the earth where the histories of persecution happened based upon another's perception of people that were being profiled by their belief systems and that resulted in human holocaust and genocide. One has got to ask the question, why are belief systems so important to the human mind that they are willing to kill and murder for the sake of preserving their beliefs?

Persecution has a basis in not letting go of beliefs, being intolerant of others, and seeking to control every person to be an exact reflection of what you want them to be (agree with you), rather than allowing them to be who they really are. Why are so many people hell bent to take full control over other people, and for what purpose does this serve?

Seeing the Larger Picture

Hopefully, when we can see the larger picture of events and how certain Controller programs were placed into the planet, such as persecution complex via crucifixion belief systems, in order to incite and maintain a warring society in the mind of humans. This awareness helps us to source the uncleared pain we may be carrying from our own accumulated emotional experience when feeling persecuted. This is the same persecution complex that is feeding into the insecurities of the lightworker community and it is important to know that it is a global human race problem, no one got away with not experiencing persecution in some way. If we can see it as a macrocosm problem in the way the masses are taught to think and perceive, we can begin to understand how it works to eliminate its control over our own behavior, and continue to work on clearing our own fears of persecution.

I hope that together, we can form a spiritual community of loving and caring people, that truly work to become self aware not to feed into these mass persecution programs, knowing that we are all in this together. By sharing our individual feelings authentically, more people can realize they are not alone in this journey, they are not crazy. They are not the only one being persecuted for being authentic, spiritual, awakened, a Starseed, or doing their best to develop Personal Integrity and be who they feel they need to be in the world. This is helping all of us to generate more Compassion, tolerance and developing Humility in our interactions with each other, which is important to grow the foundation of trust in our communications with each other.

Our distant future is our distant past. It is recursive.

There is but one service. The Law of One. The offering of self to be of service to the God Creator is the greatest service, the unity, the fountainhead from which All things have sprung forth. The being who seeks to be at One with God is unified with infinite intelligence and eternal nature. From this higher purpose, from this offering, a great multiplicity of opportunities will evolve depending upon the Lightbody spiritual purpose and the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, along with the person's Miasma or karmic, ancestral imprints. The Virtue gained from dedicated alignment to serve our highest expression in God, is to receive the blessings from the Spirit of Peace. 

Let the re be Peace onEarth.

Beloved family thank you so much for your bravery and courage, for all that you show up for in the Christos mission, and even holding space for the awareness that this is ongoing and happening in our midst in the world today. Thank you.

I seal this into the light of wholeness, unity and truth and so it is. Thank you Mother /Father God Thank you Krystos/Sophia Consciousness. Thank you.