#Best Practices for Command Usage

[news4nose]

Do you know that there are hidden, harmful commands within that normal-looking code? Instead of relying on copy-pasting, take the time to learn and understand the commands you’re using. Learning the basics of command-line operations can go a long way in helping you.

[holeforzenin]

Tw - Boss!nanami, sir kink, reverse cowgirl, buttplug usage. Grammar errors.

Your thighs burned from how long you’d been riding him, the wet slap of your hips crashing down on his thick thighs echoing through the room in an inconsistent rhythm. Kento is lying beneath you, thick golden hair ruffled and mussed against the silky pillows, shirt still on but lazily unbuttoned like he’s been in a fight, sleeves rolled to the elbows like he didn’t even intend to fuck you this hard. Like he thought he could keep it neat.

But oh there’s nothing neat about the way your creamy pussy leaks down the length of his cock, nothing tidy about the way your eyes roll back as your ass bounces on him and your cute little plug nearly slips out—again. The pressure of his girth almost fucking the plug out every time it slides into your hole.

His hand darts up with that same practiced precision he uses in a fight, thumb pressing flush against the jewel at the heart base of it.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, voice deep and commanding as he pushes it back inside, and watching you squirm once it’s back in. “You keep it in like a good girl, understood?”

You nod obedienly, mouth hanging open, barely able to keep your balance as your thighs tremble around his waist. “Y-Yeah—yes, Kento—!”

“That’s sir to you,” he corrects.

That thumb stays in place, pressing into the base of the plug each time your movement threatens to dislodge it. It’s actually so mean—the way he insistently keeps it in, making you feel every bit of stretch and fullness, making it impossible to ignore how stuffed you are in both holes before he even starts thrusting up into you.

“Look at this,” he murmurs darkly, slightly shifting under you and spreading his legs more so his cock drives deeper with each roll of your hips. “Stuffed so full, and you’re still desperate for more. Fucking greedy. You like feeling this helpless, don’t you?”

Your moan answers for you, messy and loud, warm tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Kento’s cock is veiny and thick—he always stretches you up but the added plug makes it even more unbearable in the best way possible like your body can’t decide if it’s overwhelmed or starving for more.

“Please, please, sir—feels so good, I-I can’t—”

“You can.” That thumb pushes harder, pinning the plug in like a fucking button he’s got full control over. “You’ve taken everything I’ve given you tonight. You’re going to take this, too”.

Your nails dig into his sweaty chest for balance as he starts fucking up into you, ruining the pace you were trying to keep. Kento is usually a patient man but your lazy, fucked-out rhythm was getting on his nerves.

Now he’s in charge again—hips ramming up into you from below in a brutal pace while his hand stays glued to your ass, his thumb making sure that plug stays nestled tight like it’s a part of you. You continue bouncing helplessly, letting him use your body like a toy, stuffed full and shaking and fucked raw by your boss.

“I can feel it,” he growls, hand moving from your ass to grab your jaw, forcing your fluttering eyes open to look back at him. “The way your little hole clenches around it every time I hit that spot. So nasty, bet you’re gonna cum just from this, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, fingers slipping against his sweat-slick chest as your thighs quiver.

“Tell me,” he says, almost sweet now, almost gentle as he stares up at your flushed face. “Tell me how it feels to ride your boss’s cock with your ass plugged up like a dirty slut, so shameless—all this just for a little bonus huh?”.

“S-So full—Nanamin, it’s too much, I c-can’t hold it, I—fuck!”

“You can”. His grip on your jaw tightens just slightly. “You’re going to. I’ll hold it in for you if I have to”.

And he does. Every time it threatens to slip from how wildly you’re grinding against him, how soaked you are, how greedy your body’s gotten—he’s there, thumb pressing and pushing, guiding it right back in like he owns every part of your body now.

Your orgasm hits quick and sloppy, back arching and your plushy ass grinding on his pelvis, tight cunt spasming around him like you’re trying to take all his babies from him, your asshole clenching around the plug tighter than ever.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he groans, barely holding back from how sexy and filthy you look cumming on top of him. “So fucking tight—so full, shit!”

He spills inside you with a broken grunt, hips slamming up one last time and holding you there with a big hand clasping your hips and keeping you impaled on his cock, stuffed full of him and the plug both.

You feel every pulse of him emptying into you, the warmth leaking out only to be caught and squished deeper by his still throbbing shaft.

When you start to lift off him, the plug nearly slipping again, his hand flies back to your ass.

“Ah, ah,” he warns, pushing it back in firmly. “Did I say you could take it out?”

You whimper, obediently sinking back down with your brain fogged and mouth slack. You’ll stay like that as long as he wants. “You look perfect like this,” he murmurs, voice tired but still husky as always as he strokes your back. “Plug in. Pussy leaking with my children. All mine”.

[ninisdollie]

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x K, established relationship, reader is smaller than K, dom! kei, he’s a bit mean, corruption kink, size kink, humiliation, objectification, dirty talking, unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), multiple positions, aftercare !!

warning: usage of degrading terms, reader only wants to please kei (but she likes it) i went a little insane with this one is short but so filthy idk, but as always everything is consensual !!

Kei was made to corrupt. 

He’s a dancer, one of the bests in his group. Performance leader, every move clean, precise, controlled. In the practice room, he gives commands to his members with strong voice, always expecting the best outcome. 

So naturally, in the bedroom, he expects nothing less. Kei doesn’t just fuck. He trains, he molds. He perfects. You’ve been his sweetest project since day one.

He knew it from the moment you looked up at him with that innocent face and soft little smile, asking him what he liked. You didn’t know what you were inviting. But he did. And he’s been slowly, thoroughly ruining you ever since.

“You’re lucky I’m patient,” he mutters one night, dragging you back onto his lap after you tried to play coy, tried to tease. His voice is calm but his grip is iron, hands already spreading you open, positioning you the way he likes. “But don’t test it, baby. You’re gonna get it right this time.”

His hands guide you like choreography, back arched, knees wide, chest flushed. One finger taps your chin. “Eyes on me.”

He watches everything. The way your thighs tremble. How you squirm when he speaks low in your ear. How your breath catches when his voice dips into something dark. “You want to be perfect for me, don’t you? Then shut up and listen.”

He teaches you how to touch yourself the way he likes to see it. Gives you exact instructions, and if you mess up? He starts over. Makes you beg to be taught again. There’s no mercy in his tone when you get bratty, just a tight grip on your wrists and a low command that makes your stomach drop. “Count your orgasms for me tonight,” he says as he slips two fingers inside, slowly, teasingly. “And don’t lose track, or we’ll start from zero.”

He trains your body like it’s his stage. Times your pleasure with his rhythm. Pushes you further every night. And when he finally fucks you, it’s with the same control and dominance he has on stage, each thrust deep and perfect, every moan of yours a note he meant to draw out. His hand around your throat, his breath hot against your lips.

“You’re doing better,” he praises darkly, voice breathless, fingers digging into your waist as you ride him just how he taught you. “So good for me. So filthy now, baby. You remember when you were shy?”

You nod, barely able to speak, and he smirks.

“I don’t. Not anymore. All I see now is a needy little slut who can’t breathe unless I tell her how.”

You love how bossy he is. How mean he gets when you mess up. How sweet he sounds when you finally get it right. He’s made you addicted to being good. To pleasing him. To performing for him.

You’re his perfect little project. And Kei? He’s not done perfecting you yet.

Sometimes he gets extra bossy. 

He stops mid-thrust, right when you were so close you could taste it, and pulls out with a sharp sigh. You blink at him, dazed and panting. “W-why’d you stop?” “You touched yourself without asking,” he says flatly, wiping his cock on your inner thigh like you’re nothing but a mess. “Did I say you could do that?” You shake your head, small and guilty, already squirming for more. “I give you an inch and you get cocky, huh?” he sneers, gripping your face. “You think this is about you? You don’t come unless I let you. Do it again and I’ll edge you ‘til you cry.” And you will cry, because when he denies you, he does it perfectly. Just enough to keep you desperate. Just enough to make you beg.

Sometimes he’ll make you perform, on your knees, tongue out, eyes up. “That’s not how I showed you,” he mutters, thumb tapping your bottom lip. “Do it slower. Deeper. No teeth.” You gag when he pushes in farther, and he moans, gripping your hair tighter. “There you go. Just like that. Finally learning.” His hips move lazily, but his voice is sharp. “You better not pull off. Keep that throat open. Let me use you.” And when you’re choking on him, tears streaming down your cheeks, he still holds your head in place, whispering, “You’re mine. My perfect little thing. You exist to please me. Remember that.”

When you get it right… he melts for you.

“Fuck,” he groans as you ride him, rhythm perfect, moaning just the way he likes. His hands grip your hips, hard, helping you bounce. “That’s it. That’s exactly what I want. You feel that? How deep I am inside you? That’s what a good girl gets.” He rewards you with praise, with pleasure, with everything you’ve been craving. “You take me so well now. Look at you. Thought you were shy when I met you—now you’re a filthy little thing trained to come on command.”

And you love it. Love the structure, the rules, the praise. Love how bossy he gets when you fuck up, how gentle he is after he ruins you, how obsessed he is with teaching you to be better.

You were innocent once. Not anymore.

Now? You’re Kei’s favorite thing to ruin.

You’re smaller than him in every way, and he adores it. Not just because it makes you easy to toss around, to fold in half, to bend over and press into the mattress, but because of how obedient you get when he handles you like that. “Such a delicate little thing,” he murmurs, voice thick with affection and lust as he lifts you up and spins you around, setting you on the edge of the bed like you're just a doll he’s placing for playtime. “You fit right in my hands.”

He’s not even trying to show off, but you feel the way his strength cages you in, his grip around your thighs, his fingers curled around your wrists, his broad chest at your back. And then he’s bending you forward with ease, arching your back with one hand and spreading your legs with the other. “There,” he says, adjusting you like you’re a pretty little toy. “Now stay like that for me, doll.”

Your cheeks burn. But your hips push back into him on instinct. You love it. Being put exactly where he wants you, letting him use your body like it belongs to him, because it does. “Such a good girl,” he purrs as he sinks into you, his hand gripping the nape of your neck to keep you in place. “My perfect little doll. So soft, so small—fuck, you take me so well.”

He moves you with practiced ease, folds you in half, lifts your leg over his shoulder, pulls you flush to his chest when he wants to feel you break on him. Every position is seamless because he controls it. He doesn’t even have to ask. “Let me hear you,” he says when you start whimpering under him, too far gone to speak. “Use your voice, baby. That’s what dolls like you are made for, isn’t it?”

And when you fall apart? He doesn’t stop. He praises you low in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs. “There’s my girl. Look at you. So sweet for me. So easy to move, so easy to please. My tiny little thing—meant to be ruined, just like this.”

He handles you like his favorite toy. But never like you’re breakable. No, he wants to break you himself.

And when you’re sobbing into the pillows, shaking from how hard he’s made you come, he kisses your shoulder and whispers, “Such a perfect doll. I’m gonna keep you like this forever.”

Normally, Kei is gentle. He takes care of you. He wakes you up with soft kisses and whispers of “Good morning, pretty thing.” He feeds you bites of food between dance practices, rubs your back when you’re tired, presses kisses to your temple just because. You’re his girl, his baby.

But sometimes, you get bratty. And he can’t stand brattiness. 

So when you start teasing, the air changes immediately. 

“Excuse me?” Your stomach drops instantly. You try to giggle it off, act cute — “I was just playing, Kei—” But it's too late.

“Strip.” You blink. “Kei—” “Now.”

Your body moves before your brain could. You peel your clothes off, heart pounding, already feeling your stomach twist with heat and fear. You love it. But you know you’re about to suffer.

Once you’re bare, he grabs your jaw,  forcing you to look at him. “You like running your mouth?” he said, voice dangerously low. “Let’s see how smart you sound with my cock down your throat.” You gasp, and he is already pulling you to your knees on the floor. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He taps the head of his cock against your lips and says, “Open. You wanna be a brat? Earn your place.” You take him in as deep as you can, and he groans, but doesn’t let you off easy. He pushes further, makes you gag, tears prickling your eyes. “Not so smug now, huh?” he mutters, thrusting in shallow rolls. “Look at you. Can’t even take my cock without crying.” You whine, hands clawing at his thighs, but he doesn’t stop. “This is what you’re good for,” he gritted. “A hole. My doll. My little fucktoy who can’t stop testing me ‘cause she loves getting punished.”

He says the nastiest things while he’s fucking you. Not sweet little praises, no, Kei likes it raw. Dirty. Vulgar. “Look at that,” he groans, watching the way you drip for him. “You’re soaking the sheets. All this mess just ‘cause I touched you?” “Didn’t even do anything yet and you’re already creaming. Such a desperate little hole.”

You gasp every time, but you love it. You love how mean and shameless he is in bed, how completely unfiltered he gets. Sometimes, he spits in your mouth while he’s fucking you, just to watch your pretty lips part automatically like you were made for it. Sometimes, he makes you ride him while he holds your hips still, just to laugh when you whimper, “Please move—Kei, please—” “Don’t you dare fucking touch yourself,” he growls when you reach between your legs. “You want to come? Beg for it. Say please. Say you’re my dirty little thing.”

You do. Every time.

Because Kei’s voice alone could make you fall apart. He’s obsessed with ruining you. Literally.

He loves fucking you when you’re already a mess, drooling, crying, twitching from the last orgasm, just to whisper things like: “You look so good like this. Fucked out, brainless. My dumb little doll, yeah?”

And he lives for making you repeat him.

“Say it. Say whose hole this is.” “Say what you want. Don’t be shy now — you weren’t shy when you were moaning like a slut five minutes ago.”

You say it, always.

Because when Kei gets like this, dominant, nasty, totally obsessed, you can’t think of anything else but pleasing him.

And he knows it.

But when he finishes, it’s like a switch turns off.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmurs, his voice warm and velvety, a soft rasp as he presses his chest to yours. “It’s okay now, baby. You did so good. So, so good for me.” He brushes your hair out of your face with the gentlest touch, thumb swiping the corner of your mouth.

You try to move, to say something, but your body isn’t cooperating, you’re too far gone, too sensitive and floating. Kei leans down and kisses your forehead, then your temple. A kiss to your cheek. Another at your shoulder. Each one a grounding point, little anchors pulling you back into his arms. “I know, I know,” he whispers, as if reading the overwhelm written in your breath. “You don’t have to talk, baby. Just let me take care of you now.”

He moves slowly, deliberately, never rushing. Even when his own body is trembling with exhaustion, even when his skin is damp with sweat and he’s still catching his breath, you are the priority. You always are. Kei slips out of bed quietly, grabbing a soft towel and warm water like it’s second nature. He’s so gentle when he comes back, knees pressing into the mattress, fingers cradling your thighs open with care.“Little sore?” he murmurs. You nod weakly. “Okay. I’ll be soft, promise.”

He cleans you up like you’re made of glass, whispering praises the whole time, “So pretty… such a good girl… let me make you comfortable, yeah?”, and kisses the inside of your knee when you flinch.

Once he’s done, he disappears only to come back with a hoodie, his hoodie, the one that smells like him, and slips it gently over your head, careful not to disturb you more than necessary.

Then he crawls in beside you again, pulling the covers up to your chin, wrapping himself around you like a shield. Your head ends up on his chest. His heartbeat’s steady and slow. “I love you so much,” he says into your hair. “You did amazing. I’m right here.”

He runs his fingers up and down your back, soothing the goosebumps that haven’t quite gone away. His voice is low, lulling you into a dazed sleep. “Breathe with me, baby. Just like that. You’re safe.”

When you finally mumble, “Kei… thank you,” voice barely there, he smiles against your forehead and whispers:

“You never have to thank me for this. Taking care of you is the best part.”

And he means it.

Because it’s not just about the sex. It’s about you.

It’s about seeing you safe, warm, and held, knowing that he made you feel good, and now he’s the one who gets to piece you back together.

[do-you-have-a-flag]

i'm just gonna call it that we need to practice mindful tech usage and security and i don't mean screentime tracking apps and vpns or whatever i mean starting from early childhood and going into adult wellbeing culture to encourage tactile hobbies and long-form work and the understanding of online devices as commodifying the user with spyware

i'm talking throwback word processors with the same ergonomics as regular smart devices for general educational work and dedicated subjects for working with digital technologies so you have theory in practice and then applying that theory in a contemporary work context. that's where you learn applications, digital safety, and how to implement the generative tools. separately. once you've already developed the critical analysis and expressive skills first.

i have been basically addicted to the internet since i was 13, i've had ups and downs with it, but i've always had a little bit of over caution when it comes to information and identity online. i overshare what i chose to but i think the break down of privacy as a norm when it comes to personal data tracking is genuinely awful.

i like algorithms in some places but i do not think this super-customisation is worth this panopticon of tech.

have you heard about how phone locations can still be triangulated when the phone is off? this is incidentally why if you are gong to protests and you think you are in danger it might be best to leave it at home. but generally if you want to avoid audio and video being used to build a marketing profile you can just switch it off and pop it in a bag or the next room. but with fb trying to make voice command smart glasses a thing (after snapchat and google both failed to sustain the same product) it bears caution that so called wearable tech such as glasses, pendants, watches, earbuds, ect.... even outside of smart cars there's the risk of passive listening for user marketing profiles. we already have location based advertising, ads that track your useage to predict your menstrual cycle or life events, public ads that react to nearby phones

i am going off on this tangent to say that i am not naïve to the fact that we already have to constantly dig into 'dark patterns' of settings to opt out of surveillance and commodification. i'm aware that the easiest path is to do nothing and use the shortcut machines even when they don't actually help or save much time or effort beyond selling you tools that already exist with a new price tag. i'm aware that the plagiarism software with no idea what it's talking about and runs on resource wasting pollution and underpaid remote human labour that also gets slapped in every function role despite basically being fancy autofil and pixel pulp not only has all of those issues but the lay person is either unaware or does not care and companies only care that it is a new way to pretend they're innovating. i know all this just like i know that mass automation is just exploitation unless it is balanced with social structures for all that mean emancipation from the need for labour.

but while i think all tech can be used for good, facilitating human connection across physical distance, carefully trained data analysis on a rapid large scale, removing the tedium of technical drudgery where needed, just providing light entertainment. but we have gotta be better about legislating, moderating, and use culture.

use culture goes hand in hand with convenience. it's why vinyl records are still trendy, not only are they good at what they do, but there is enough cool factor that the inconvenience becomes a feature. CDs are also convenient still! but CDs do not have the cool factor so they get wiped out by the convenience of streaming. playlists in streaming have a cool factor that radio does not despite radio still being convenient. and remember no matter how much streaming claims you can pay to opt out of ads that's usually something that you get payment tiered out of eventually so the convenience facilitated by accessibility is debatable the longer time passes.

looping back to my original point, if we can encourage an understanding of digital privacy as something you shouldn't be complacent about, that you shouldn't have to pay for tools to get out of the spotlight, that it is immensely embarrassing to be too into exploitation by tech companies and make that the problem of everyone around you. user control should be synonymous with convenience. customisability/personalisation through individual control rather than passive scraping. you can still commodify decorative tech.

we gotta make slop and babying algorithm brained tech usage cringe. people don't care to hear that it's immoral so just make them feel uncool at this point. because it is embarrassing that you have the universe of resources at your fingertips and you're too scared to do anything with it other than beg it to put words in your mouth. who cares if you're chronically online or too busy irl to learn a new skill. you are like a little bird pecking at it's own reflection, that's sad. try saying something mediocre and honest. we gotta stop tap dancing into technofeudalism just because we're too complacent to actually talk to each-other.

[oppysbabydoll]

Could we get Autobot of your choice x human scenario where they overhear the human talking to a friend about their crush on said bot, then the bot acts weird around them in a flustered/cute way for the next couple of days while they try to figure out how THEY feel about the human? =]

OMGG YESS! this is soo cute! i love this <3 doing elita from tfone because the girls need more love in this franchise

elita (tfone) x reader

while tfone is a prequel to the cybertronian war, much less meeting humans, for the sake of this ask, let’s say she escapes with optimus to earth. there, as part of the autobots, it’s part of her duty to look after humans, to get along with them since they’re living on “their” planet. even though they have a war going on and they need to prioritize their own. but whatever (despite how she does sees optimus as a leader, she still is less optimistic about the world. between optimus and her, she makes the decision that best achieves her goals than what’s always morally right)

come you: her favorite human. she didn’t think she’d ever like humanity, serving as a reminder of the efforts they’re wasting instead of spending time back home fighting for freedom in cybertron. yet, somehow, you have invaded her spark </3 you typically watch elita’s training time and normally, she pays no mind, even though the novelty worn off. yet when you see her punching bags so hard they break, you ask what’s wrong. she snaps “you humans take advantage of us and our kindness. we shouldn’t have to do favors as refugees to recieve help just to go go home.”

she didnt stay to hear an answer, not wanting to be around a species she dislikes. a joor (month) later, she gets sent links. articles, newspapers, news outlets, all are calling out the government for in action. of denying aliens—refugees—a way to go home for the government’s military usage. days later, the government sets up a branch dedicated to fixing the autobots ship to go back home. when she finds you, she gives you a soft smile and mouths, “thank you.”

since then, while the two of you are busy as autobot and government worker, you guys make time for the other. the most common way is you taking time after work to watch her practice fighting. she always feel your gaze on her. sometimes she makes conversation while training. she knows you’re kind but… quiet. while you do talk when she asks, you always refuse to meet your optics and your faceplate becomes darker. it’s strange. she assumes it’s a weird organic thing until…

she finds out the reason why when you were having lunch with your coworker. unaware that elita was still in the building, you admit you like her. you admire her rationality, capabilties, and ability to take charge. you admire her strength and power. and while you’re too shy to say anything, you deeply appreciate your conversations. as you continue, your voice bleeds into the background while your initial words go through elita’s processor

you like her. out of all bots, you like her. while elita follows the autobot code, sometimes she can’t help but go back to the old cybertronian code, of bots worth being determined by their job. while she knows she’s a good leader, part of her can’t help but feel like the miner that was continuously devalued no matter what. part of her couldn’t help internalize it, no matter her best efforts. so the fact someone sees her and likes her is—well—!

she avoids you for a few days. makes herself busy with government duties, commanding autobots, other activities so you don’t see her. but no matter what she does she can’t get you out of her mind. she’s not able to recharge because her processor is so focused on you. she doesn’t even know you—not really. not outside of the kind gesture you did, that changed everything for the better. imagining the two of you conjunxed felt next to impossible—if humans could even do that

but. you took that risk, that energy, that effort, of helping her when she lashed out. and if she could do that then she can figure out how human courtship work. what they can be, if not conjunxed then… together. in each others sparks. when she sees you, she tries to remain cool and collected. but the smile you give almost melts her spark. and she can’t help the occasion static in her voice as she approaches you after training, nervousness creeping to her processor. even if you and her are both messy in your attempts to pursue the other, she looks forward getting to know you better. she’s opening her spark for you <3

[ryleigh130]

Frostbite- - - ryleigh130

Summary- reader gets hypothermia on a mission and the boys help warm them up.

Relationships- platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader

Characters- cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

Word count- 2.2k

Warnings- hypothermia, profanity, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

Note- This is my first ever fanfiction written on here so please leave me suggestions on how to improve! This story is inspired by the creator @python333 so go and check out their work it’s absolutely amazing! If you would like to leave a request for me to do a specific prompt feel free to message me! That’s it, thank you and I hope you enjoy! <33

It’s. Fucking. Cold. The three words repeat in your mind over and over again as you consider voicing your complaints to the team for what had to be the 8th time in the last 30 minutes. You couldn’t help it, it was cold. Freezing actually, you and the others were assigned a mission in the middle of butt fuck nowhere Siberia so excuse you for being cold.

To make matters worse for you, you’re the only 141 member currently suffering the biting cold as you were the one who drew the short end of the stick and got put on sniper duty whilst the others get to enjoy the warmth of actually being in the building they’re trying to get the info from.

With that thought, you sigh and shift your position slightly from where you are laying looking through the scope on your M107. It wouldn’t be so bad if you were actually moving around but instead, you’ve been laying in the same position, in the snow, for around 3 hours and you’re starting to loose feeling in your fingers and toes.

“[c/n], how copy” your radio sparks to life as the gruff, British accent of your Captain comes through.

“Still fucking cold, are we almost done here? I’m freezing my balls off out here” you groan, tentatively flexing your fingers trying to spark life back into them.

A low chuckle is heard over the radio as you can practically hear Price roll his eyes from where he is positioned, “you’ve mentioned. But yes, as soon as Soap plants the bombs we should be good to go. How’s it looking Soap?” A clicking can be heard over the radio when suddenly the loud, Scottish voice of John “Soap” MacTavish booms through,

“Aye Cap’n, jist aboot done” you hear another click and a hushed exclaim of victory, “Aw set!” You practically let out a cry of relief at the thought of going back to the safe house and getting warm,

“Took you long enough!” Gaz’ teasing voice pipes up before promptly getting shut up,

“Oh shut it you bawbag” Soap’s voice is light as you hear their footsteps going down the halls to escape the building. You watch through the scope of your rifle making sure to keep an eye out for any rouge enemies that might be hanging around the building the team was gathering the info from. You see Gaz leave the building first, followed by Price and finally Soap. You frown slightly, waiting a few moments before radioing,

“Ghost, how copy” you wait a few seconds before radioing in again, this time sounding more worried, “Ghost, ho-“ before you could finish your sentence, Ghost’s voice, accompanied by the sounds of gunshots filter through

“Solid copy.” He grunts out “I’ve got a few on my tail now but I’m taking care of it” you hear more gunshots as you look through your scope trying to spot Ghost’s form. Suddenly, an alarm rings through the building, you watch as dozens of enemy soldiers flood into the building your team once occupied,

“Fuck Ghost, incoming” you manage to warn before you hear Price’s loud and commanding voice boom,

“Ghost! Get out of there now! We need to detonate this thing now!” You hear Ghost reply with a short grunt. You watch as Ghost’s body runs out from the quickly populating building spraying round after round at accompanying enemies following. You try and help the best you can picking off as many enemies as possible before you hear Soap’s shout,

“CLEAR!” And with that, the building goes up in flames. You duck your head from where you’re positioned to avoid the ash and debris from the burning building,

“All Bravos, how copy?” You hear Price’s voice through the slight ringing of your ears,

A chorus of “Solid, copy”’s respond to the Captain, including your own as you begin to pack your weapon up to head out.

“Brilliant, alright everyone good work. Let’s regroup at the safe house 5 clicks from this position.” A murmur of approvals ring through the coms as you absentmindedly hum your approval and mute your radio. You finish packing up your gear when you hear a twig snap somewhere close by. You perk up and draw your M18 from where it’s positioned in the small holster on your thigh. As quiet as a mouse you sneak through the snowy brush to where the noise originated, peaking through the tree line your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach as you see a squadron of about 9 soldiers approaching your position.

Fuck me. You practically groan, you know you won’t be able to take them all down at the same time so you do the only sensible option, you run. Expertly navigating through the snowy taiga, you run, duck, and jump over the obstacles in front of you. You can hear the pounding of footsteps behind you and the whizzing of bullets flowing past your body, barely missing their target. You run until your lungs burn and your eyes water from the cold air. You look around seemingly cornered by the enemy soldiers and the barren landscape when you spot it. A frozen over lake and possibly your one chance at survival, without a chance to second guess yourself, you’re running towards the lake. You hear yelling in the distance followed by more gunshots as you continue towards the lake. You reach the shoreline and tentatively put your body weight on the ice, judging by the fact it didn’t immediately crack, you take the risk and start sliding toward the other side. Luckily you are small and light enough to be able to tread across the slippery surface. You look over your shoulder to see the soldiers staring at you and continuing to try and shoot you. Before you could react, a stray bullet embeds into the icy surface and a loud crack and be heard. You look down in terror as the ice begins to crack and splinter. With a new objective in mind, you quicken your pace to the reach the other side of the frozen lake.

It’s too late. You’re about 3/4ths of the way when the ice suddenly relents under your weight and you get plunged into the deep icy depths of the water. The icy water causes your body to immediately freeze and jolt in pain as the below freezing water feels like pins and needles getting pushed into your skin slowly. You sink toward the bottom of the frozen pool before your mind catches up with your body and a gasp of air leaves your mouth. You’re choking on the icy water as you struggle against the cold, slowly and painfully you make your way back towards the surface. Your head emerges from the water first, then followed by your hands as you desperately try and grab onto something to be able to drag yourself out of the water. You can’t get a grip on the slippery surface causing you to gasp and sink back into the water, kicking your feet one final time you propel yourself out of the water and onto the ice. With the last bit of your remaining energy you fling yourself to the safety of solid ground on the other side of the lake.

You lay on the snowy ground shivering violently. You look out at the side of the lake where you came from and notice the soldiers were gone, must’ve thought I was a goner, you think bitterly. You don’t have time to reminisce on it as the wind picks up and reminds you that you are currently shivering, wet, and unable to feel your own body. Weakly, you try and turn on your radio to signal for help. You almost cry when you realize it’s gone, you must’ve lost it when you fell in. Coughing violently, you shakily get on your feet, stumbling once, then twice, you manage to stand and take unsteady steps towards where you assume the safe house should be.

The hike takes longer than it should’ve as you continuously stumbled and fell, taking longer than you care to admit to get back up and continue. It’s around 1700 judging by the just setting sun, when the small cabin comes into view. You almost weep in relief when you see it, you pick up your pace into a small run and, promptly fall down face first into the snow. You lay in the snow no longer shivering as your body begins to shut down, No! Not like this, I’m right there! You feel yourself thinking. You feel as if you hear a noise that resembles a door opening and voices yelling but you chalk that up to your imagination as your vision slowly fades into black. With one last tired breath you close your eyes and let the warmth take over you.

When you wake up, you’re burning, and not in a nice way. You feel as if your skin is on fire and is about to melt off your bones. It hurts, painfully so and you make sure to vocalize your discomfort with a pained screech. You try moving your body away from the burning heat but your muscles won’t respond to your brain so you can do nothing more then just let out pained screeches as tears flow down your face. Faintly you can hear hushed voices trying desperately to soothe you but you’re too out of it to notice. With one last screech you black out, in the back of your head you feel as if you can feel a hand card through your hair.

When you wake up again, the pain is still there but significantly lessened. You can feel yourself lying on what you assume to be a mattress with possibly the fluffiest blanket you’ve ever felt on top of you. You try opening your eyes, the light took adjusting to but after a moment you are able to look around the room where you are laying in. Almost immediately you spot the sleeping form of Captain John Price, he’s leaning back in the old wooden chair he’s on with his mouth open in a soft snore. His hand is laying on your covered leg comfortably, he looks tired and worried like he hasn’t slept in a good while. You look around the room trying to figure out where you are before you make yourself known. With a small clearing of your throat Price violently jerks awake and stares at you for a moment before he moves into action,

“Jesus Christ you’re awake!” He states as he starts to worry over you. He gently takes his hand and puts it over your forehead, frowning at what he feels, he moves toward yours eyes. With a flashlight he checks your eyes and nods once before setting the flashlight back aside. Once he finishes his initial exam, he surges forwards and wraps you in a tight embrace,

“NEVER do that again, you hear me?!” He started firmly, his voice laced with clear worry and concern. You chuckle lowly and rasp out,

“My bad, next time I wanna take a quick dip in the pool I’ll wait until summer.” This obviously was the wrong response as Price fixes you with a firm glare,

“I’m serious [c/n]! Do you have any idea how worried we were! First, you were MIA for 2 hours! Then, you show up DRENCHED in −5 °C weather! And THEN, we find you face down in the bloody snow! [y/n] we thought you were dead!” He scolds. You look down with a light blush of shame tinting your cheeks but before you could apologize, the door slams open causing you and Price to jump. In rushes both Soap and Ghost as they storm over to your bedside. Soap grabs your hand and holds it to his face,

“Steamin Jesus kid, ye gave us quite the scare there.” He says into your palm, Ghost approaches his side and stares at you in worry,

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You open your mouth to respond when suddenly footsteps echo through the hall and Gaz comes barreling into the room.

“[c/n]!” He rushes to your bedside and pulls you into a tight hug,

“Gaz! Quit it! Ye gonna hurt the lad” Soap scolds immediately as Gaz pulls away sheepishly with a muttered apology. You take a moment to gather your thoughts before looking back up at the team you consider family.

“M’sorry” you mutter out, tears threatening to fall, “they- they came so quickly and and I tired to run but I couldn’t lose ‘em so I tried to cross the lake but then they shot at it and I fell in and itwassocold-“ your rambling coming to a stop when a firm hand lands on your shoulder. You look up to see Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“Hey, hey kid. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now” Price soothes gently. “It’s gonna be alright we’re here.” He continues giving you a soft look. You nod looking at your shaking hands when suddenly clothed hands cover your own. You look at Ghost as he warms your still cold hands with his own, you feel a hand in your hair and smile as you lean into Price’s touch. Soap and Gaz bring up a chair next to your bedside and sit close to you, protectively shielding your body from further harm. With the team you consider family so close to you, you give into your quickly tiring eyes and fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 32

Alright. It's short- as I expect my updates will be for a while- but it's an update.

Don't steal my shit

Warning: talk of hitmen, gun usage, cocky as fuck Miguel Galindo, and cursing. Filler.

"We're all set. Meeting Galindo at the range in an hour," Creeper said as he snapped the burner phone closed.

"Good," Marcus said with a nod. He looked to Happy. "I'll have my conversation while you do your thing, Reaper."

Happy smirked.

Hank patted Megan's hip. "C 'mon, mi reina. Let's go get you armed." She stood obediently.

"Just a second, Tranq," Bishop said. "Lemme get her new Kevlar off my bike." He grinned at Marcus. “Your boy came through." He returned a few moments later with a different kind of Kevlar. "Here. Swap the riding armor out of her kutte for this. Then when she zips her kutte closed- instant Kevlar."

Taza laughed." Thanks, ‘Mano. That'll make Coco happy." He took it from his president to go place it.

Creep nodded as well. "I'll let the others know about the meet. I'll let Coco know about the addition to Little Princess’ gear. Maybe it'll keep him from getting too trigger happy."

Bishop snorted. "Alright. Angel and the Prospect are most likely already gone South. Have Gilly, Riz, and Coco meet us there."

Hank and Megan armed her with her knives and guns quickly and met everyone outside at the porch.

"Sorry, Chica. Probably best if we leave the pooch here and you ride the bike with Hank," Taza said. “The car won't favor the terrain out there."

Megan nodded and scratched Rex's ears. She pressed a kiss to the top of his furry head and gave him the command to stay. Then, she took Hank's helping hand and mounted the Road King behind her caballero.

They arrived at the meeting spot about fifteen minutes before the appointed time. Once off the bike, Hank carefully zipped Megan's kutte for her.

"Move her holster to the outside," Happy grunted. "She'll need it."

Hank froze, but Megan shrugged out of the kutte and handed it to him before swapping it for her holster. Once both were back on, Hank helped her adjust the buckles on her shoulder rig to accommodate the bulk of the leather. "Too tight, mi amore?" he asked quietly.

Megan rolled her shoulders carefully. "Nope. All good."

Happy nodded and tilted his head towards the targets. "C'mon, Little Girl. Let's see that aim."

Megan moved with Happy to the range area and began target practice as the rest of the club barreled up the dirt road. It wasn't long before Coco came to join her with more ammo from the armory. The rest of the bikers settled in to wait.

A dark Range Rover came into view 15 minutes after the designated meet time. It parked and the passengers waited for the dust to settle before Nestor climbed out of the driver's seat to open the back seat door. Out stepped Miguel Galindo in his perfectly pressed three piece suit. When the car first arrived, Megan made as if to stop the shooting she was doing, but Happy shook his head. He guided her to keep going. "Ignore the flash, Little Girl. Don't give him the satisfaction."

Coco caught on quickly. "Keep shootin 'Ma. He thinks he can intimidate la princessa de los Mayas. Show him you don't give a shit."

Megan nodded after glancing to be sure Hank and Taza were both between her and the approaching cartel leader. She continued to shoot- putting bullet after bullet in a tight pattern on the target in front of her. Coco kept himself distracted with her shooting as well, while Happy made sure that the Reaper on his kutte was very visible to the suited men.

Marcus met Miguel with Bishop and Taza in tow. "Appreciate the meeting, Mr. Galindo. I believe we have some important things to discuss," he said as he offered his hand to shake.

Miguel took the handshake with a too white smile. "Of course, Marcus.. I'm hoping you have news I want to hear." He glanced at the other two men. "I assume you've discussed things with them?"

"You didn't really give him a choice with that comment yesterday," Bish pointed out. "Not that it mattered. We'd already discussed things as a club." He lit a cigarette with his zippo.

Miguel buttoned his suit jacket. "Just a business tactic, gentlemen."

Marcus frowned. "So- harassing my goddaughter? Is that a business tactic as well? Because I don't appreciate you bringing her into our business."

Miguel paused. "I wasn't aware that expressing polite concern for the welfare of a vulnerable young lady was considered harassment." He cut his eyes to the range where Megan continued picking off farther and farther targets with her handgun as the others looked on.

Hank stood halfway between the two groups with his arms crossed so that he could see what was happening with his president as well as the love of his life.

Taza crossed his own arms and chuckled a bit evilly. “Vulnerable is not how I would describe la princessa." He pointedly looked between her and the cartel boss. "Especially with her training."

Miguel scoffed slightly, but paused as Nestor leaned over to murmur something only he could hear. Miguel nodded and straightened his shoulders before putting his hands in his suit pants pockets. "You let a well known hitman that close to your family and then question my motives. You do know who you have her associating with?"

Now it was Marcus' turn to chuckle a bit. "Of course. Megan has grown quite close with several Sons- including the Tacoma Killer. He gifted her a protection dog for her birthday. The Scot as well. She's... very well liked in our world." He shrugged casually. "In any case- she is none of your business. Ever. You came to me with an offer at the casino. Now, I'm ready to answer you."

"And that answer is?"

"I require certain... conditions... that will not be violated if you want me in your organization." Marcus reached for his own cigarillo and lighter. "I will never act against my club or my family. I also require guarantees that Megan, my wife, and my daughter are kept out of any cartel business. Any cartel business. They are innocent and are to remain outside your world."

Miguel turned to watch Megan shoot again. "How do you plan to do that with your precious princess as part of your club? Especially with the Feds involved."

Bishop tapped the ash from his cigarette. "Let us worry about that. You just worry about leaving Megan alone. No more early morning spa day offers. No more date interruptions. Nothing."

Taza nodded. "The buisness doesn't touch her and neither do you."

Miguel pursed his lips as if in thought. "I will agree not to instigate anything more than a casual greeting between acquaintances- but if she comes to me of her own accord, I will not turn her away. Fair enough?"

"And the assurance of no action against my club or its members?" Marcus asked.

"I've no reason to act against an ally- as long as they don't act against me. Your club is safe," Miguel said. "So- will you be joining me, Marcus?"

"Pending a table vote by the club- yes. We'll vote it tonight. You'll have my final answer by lunch tomorrow."

Miguel offered another handshake. "Excellent. Glad you made the right decision. I'll have the contract drawn up- with your conditions- and ready for you to sign."

Marcus shook Miguel's hand, and they both turned to look back at Megan only to find Happy watching them closely. The bald Son blatantly stared down the cartel leader and his security with a slightly manic smirk as he loaded a magazine for Megan.

"You really should be more careful about the friends your goddaughter makes, Marcus. You never know when a mercenary like that will turn on her," Miguel pointed out with a nod. "I happen to know, Devante worked with Mr. Lowman several times under my father."

Marcus smirked a bit. "Poquito makes her own choices about her friendships. And we think the training he offers is likely to be beneficial. I thought her caballero made that perfectly clear. Megan isn't fragile like glass, Mr. Galindo. She's fragile like a bomb."

Bishop chuckled. “And twice as deadly."

After a few more pleasantries, Miguel and Nestor loaded up in their slightly less shiny SUV and drove off back to civilization.

Once they were out of sight, Coco patted Megan's good shoulder. "You're good, Ma. Let's get some water, huh?"

Megan relaxed from her shooter's stance and safetied her weapon. "Thank goodness. My ears are ringing and the kickback was starting to bother my wrist."

Happy also patted her slightly awkwardly. "You did good, Little Girl. I think we made our point."

Creeper brought them some water bottles as Megan unzipped her kutte. He cracked Megan's open before handing it to her with a grin.

"And what point, exactly, did we make?" she asked as she sipped from the cool bottle.

Hank walked over with a smile. "That you are a very well connected woman, mi reina. That the Sons of Anarchy as well as the Mayans support and protect you."

Gilly snorted- "And that you're a fucking badass with a gun. Damn, Princessa. Did you miss?"

Coco chuckled. "Not on anything in range she didn't."

Megan shrugged nonchalantly. " Told you I could shoot."

All the men around her laughed as Hank pulled her close enough to kiss her forehead. "That you can, mi amore."

Taza, Marcus, and Bishop came over to join them as they started picking up Megan's brass. "Tio Marcus- how'd it go?" she asked handing Creeper the spent cartriges in her hand.

Marcus smiled reassuringly at her. "All good, Bebita. We'll vote tonight in Templo. Your Tia and Prima will be much closer soon." Megan hugged him tightly, but didn't say anything else.

Back at the clubhouse, they parted ways with Happy. The quiet Son ruffed Megan's hair affectionately before handing her a small piece of paper with a phone number on it and a simple smilely face. “Take care, Little Girl."

Megan smiled and tucked the paper in her kutte pocket. "Ride safe, Happy."

With a nod for the other Mayans, Happy buckled his helmet and was gone.

Taza slipped a gentle arm around her sholaders and smiled down at her. "What'd he give you, Chica?"

Megan pulled it out and showed him. "I assume his cell phone number." She shrugged. "I'll get it in my phone..."

Bishop overheard her and choked on air. Once he'd cleared his throat, he asked. "Really?"

Megan looked at her godfather in confusion. "I mean-it's a phone number with a happy face beside it... Why?"

Hank smiled as he stowed her helmet on his bike. "Because, Princessa, not even I have any number for Happy except his club burner."

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

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@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

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@keyweegirlie

[cyberstudious]

Tips for Studying Cybersecurity

I created this post for the Studyblr Masterpost Jam, check out the tag for more cool masterposts from folks in the studyblr community!

Getting started in cybersecurity involves learning a lot of concepts and techniques from all across tech, from networking to operating systems. After that, there's a lot of security-specific tools and knowledge to absorb as well. This post focuses on some of the big things that helped me as I've studied for certifications over the past few years.

Memorizing Acronyms

There are a ton of acronyms used in cybersecurity - if you're studying for the Security+ certification, there are about 300 acronyms that you're expected to understand, and a lot get thrown around while you're on the job. It can sound overwhelming, but my two main strategies are 1) make and use flashcards (I use Anki) and 2) take the time to learn what the thing behind the acronym actually is. The ones that confused me most were always the acronyms for a protocol or something where I didn't actually know what the protocol did.

Memorizing Tool Usage & Command Line Options

How do you specify the target architecture in msfvenom? Which nmap option starts a TCP connect scan? If you're on the tech side of security and not governance, or if you're just studying for certifications, a lot of them will ask you to use command line tools and therefore memorize some of the most common options. The best way to learn these is to just practice using the tool! Anki can be helpful if there's a lot that you have to memorize to pass an exam, but practicing with the tool is a more interesting and memorable experience.

Also, it's not the end of the world if you can't remember everything - manpages exist for a reason! Memorizing common flags and options just lets you work faster, and eventually you'll memorize the most important ones just by using the tool.

Memorizing Common Protocols & Port Numbers

More foundational knowledge here - this is important for entry-level certifications and just being able to interpret things on the job. This is just memorization again, so 1) create a flashcard deck and 2) make sure you know what the protocol actually does. It's harder to remember that IMAP over TLS is on port 993 if you don't know what IMAP or TLS is - build up those connections in your brain!

Understanding Complex Protocols, Processes, and Attacks

When you're trying to learn about network protocols (TCP, HTTPS, etc.), encryption algorithms (Diffie-Hellman, etc.), or the process of a specific attack, sketch a diagram! Draw it out and get as specific as you need. Keep trying until you can break the process down into tiny steps and explain it from memory.

When studying attack chains, you can make use of Mitre ATT&CK to note the different techniques used at different stages. Professional write-ups do this too, so it's a great way to practice.

Organizing your Notes

If you're studying for a GIAC certification, the tried-and-true strategy for passing the exam is to organize your notes and make an index - essentially a giant table of contents for all of the course material that you can search through very easily. GIAC exams are open-note, but there's an enormous amount of material in each course and you don't have time during the exam to search through the book for every question.

Lesley Carhart has a great write-up on their process that's worth a read - this is one of the resources that SANS.edu advisors point students to!

If you're studying for an exam that isn't open-note, making an index can still be helpful, especially if you keep your notes around for later reference. It's also a good way to review and find topics that you need to put a bit more time into.

The tl;dr here is:

Make flashcards for anything that you need to memorize. Use a spaced repetition tool like Anki that will let you study in short bursts over a long period of time, because cramming won't help in the long run.

Get your hands dirty! Practice the labs or sample problems, play with the tools, and experiment.

Keep good notes. It's very easy to feel a sense of information overload in cybersecurity, so having a system that lets you store information outside of your brain but still access it quickly is key.

If you have any questions about how I handle a specific topic or studied something, feel free to send me an ask!

[tohwitchesduels]

LOSERS BRACKET OF WITCHES DUELS - Battle 14: Gavin vs Angmar

Disclaimer: This is not a popularity contest or which character you prefer, in this tournament, you decide who is stronger/better/smarter/etc. opponent.

information for both opponents under the cut to those who don't know what they can do in their battle:

Gavin Deamonne:

Gavin Deamonne specializes mainly in abomination magic and it is not known whether or not he knows or practices spells of another kind.

Gavin is overall a pretty skilled witch from Glandus High and his debut episode proves he's not afraid to seek adventures and is capable of fighting off beasts or capturing his opponents. He's not necessarily smart enough to see through illusions, especially when emotionally vulnerable (the boy so desperately needs his dad's attention that he falls for an illusion of himself with a mustache).

Gavin does in fact possess a palisman, but since he's against Angmar he would not have a chance to use it.

Angmar and Gavin attend Glandus so it's not unheard of for them to backstab their best friends without any hard feelings whatsoever.

Gavin may or may not have galder stones with him to enhance his magic.

Abomination Slip - Gavin can create abominations beneath the feet of his opponents making them lose their balance. It can be especially effective if his opponents are directly charging at him.

Abomination Gripe - Gavin is capable of making abomination goo capture his opponents no matter where they are and restrain them or even move them across different locations.

Abomination Minion - Gavin is capable of creating quite a large abomination golem that can be used to attack Gavin's opponents for him and serve his commands. The golem was smart enough to not be captured by the vines that assisted in the capture of Gus and also the very one to catch Gus first.

Abomination Bomb - not a canon one to Gavin, it was used by another witch, but I thought it was a nice ability so I gave it to Gavin for him to have more firepower. Gavin can send a bullet of abomination that can explode releasing large amounts of goo that can restrain his opponents.

Angmar:

Angmar specializes in plant magic mostly but could potentially utilise beast-keeping magic, considering he can also attract butterflies.

Angmar is not confirmed to possess a palisman so anyone fighting him will also not have it to even the score.

Angmar may or may not have galder stones with him to enhance his magic.

Angmar appears quite adventurous and skilled and can fight off beasts and restrain his opponents, which is also his go-to tactic. He's not however smart enough to see through illusions and can be easily distracted by butterflies.

Angmar and Gavin attend Glandus so it's not unheard of for them to backstab their best friends without any hard feelings whatsoever.

Butterfly Army - an improvised move I created, thus non-canon. Angmar can summon multiple butterflies and send them toward his opponents disorienting and distracting them.

Thorn Net-Shield - Angmar is capable of creating a net-like shield out of thorns that can be used for protection and to deflect any raging attack or opponent in the opposite direction. Makes for a good defense as it was able to send a Slitherbeast flying.

Thorn Restrain - Angmar is capable of creating giant and thick thorns and vines around his opponents to restrain them and prevent them from any movement or usage of magic. Unless the opponent doesn't need to draw circles to cast spells, the move is a finishing one, it requires Angmar to be able to freely cast it, meaning that if he's distracted he won't be able to pull it.

Thorn Attack - Angmar could also use his strong vines for offense purposes, granted this is fanon/assumed and not confirmed in canon.

More information for both of them is here as they share a character profile.

Return to Masterpost

[m1dori-eyes]

Begging fantasy authors who want to write about Medieval or Renaissance era warfare to please stop describing every single conflict as a bunch of people running at each other with longswords and full plated armor. Like yeah those battles between heavy infantry units DID happen a few times but the VAST MAJORITY of battles were fought between two bodies of LIGHT INFANTRY, aka a bunch of peasants in normal clothes with spears. Warfare was expensive as fuck, armor costs time and money to make, swords cost time and money to make, people cost time and money to be trained in swords and armor, and most militaries just couldn't afford to go through all that shit. If you want to send an army at someone, you give a bunch of locals spears, because spears are cheap, big, and a lot of individual fights were just decided by who could land the first blow. People didn't have hit points like in a video game, if you get stabbed through the shoulder with a pike then you were kinda just fucked from there, and polearms were longer than swords so you'd hopefully get the chance to attack your enemy before they could attack you. A one-handed sword is the weapon of a mounted warrior who needs their other hand on the reigns, a gladiator being made to fight for spectacle, or a rich person trying to honorably duel another rich person. They're flashy and have certain uses such as close quarters combat, but they're not practical for general military usage. Swords and shields were sometimes used in large scale warfare, but only by people who could afford them, which were wealthy commanders and a very select few units of elite infantry. And full armor??? Aside from being one of the most expensive things someone could buy, plate armor requires TRAINING AND TIME JUST TO PUT ON AND TAKE OFF. You think just any old ruler could afford to outfit an entire battalion of people with full armor, train them how to use it, and then arrange each battle so that they would have enough time to put it on before fighting? Just for them to fight on foot and not even on horseback??? Armored footsoldiers were niche, they existed but only when horses were impractical or otherwise inaccessible. Stop putting them everywhere, if that armored knight in your book could be on a horse in that situation, then they absolutely were. Also if you're on foot with a sword, and an enemy combatant on a horse runs at you, there's basically nothing you can do, armor or not!!! You either get incredibly lucky, dodging their strike and then happening to strike one of the few weak points on the lower half of standard cavalry armor, or the infinitely more likely thing happens and they hit you with enough momentum to immediately kill you on impact, before you can even get close to reaching them with your sword. The power of a warrior on horseback doesn't come from the arm strength of the warrior, it comes from the speed of the horse. Spears are the best weapon to use against other spear wielders, and will give you the largest chance of survival when you're outclassed by cavalry. Fantasy writers please just give everyone in big infantry battles a spear they make so much sense and they're so cool please I am begging you.

[ulinktechnologyinc]

The Importance of Regular SSD Health Checks for Data Security

Solid-State Drives (SSDs) have become the preferred storage solution due to their speed, durability, and energy efficiency. However, despite their advanced technology, SSDs are not immune to wear and potential failures. Regular health checks play a crucial role in ensuring data security, preventing data loss, and maintaining optimal performance. This article explores why routine test SSD drive health is essential and how it safeguards critical data.

Why SSD Health Checks Matter

1. Preventing Data Loss

Unlike traditional hard drives, SSDs have a finite number of write cycles. Over time, repeated writes can degrade NAND flash memory, leading to data corruption or loss. Regular health checks help identify wear patterns and alert users before critical failures occur.

2. Detecting Early Signs of Failure

Tools that read SMART (Self-Monitoring, Analysis, and Reporting Technology) data can detect issues such as bad blocks, high temperatures, and excessive reallocated sectors. Identifying these warning signs early allows users to take preventative action, like data backup or drive replacement.

3. Maintaining Optimal Performance

As SSDs age, their performance can degrade due to factors like increased bad blocks or inefficient data management. Regular health checks help identify performance bottlenecks and ensure that features like TRIM are functioning correctly to maintain speed and responsiveness.

4. Enhancing Data Security

Failing SSDs can lead to partial data corruption, making sensitive information vulnerable. Regular health checks reduce the risk of data breaches by ensuring that the storage medium remains secure and intact.

How to Perform Regular SSD Health Checks

1. Utilize SMART Monitoring Tools

CrystalDiskInfo (Windows): Provides real-time health statistics and temperature monitoring.

Smartmontools (Linux/macOS): Command-line tools (smartctl) for in-depth drive analysis.

Manufacturer-Specific Utilities: Samsung Magician, Intel SSD Toolbox, and others offer tailored monitoring and firmware updates.

2. Schedule Automated Health Checks

Windows Task Scheduler: Set up recurring checks using tools like CrystalDiskInfo.

Linux Cron Jobs: Automate smartctl commands to log health data periodically.

macOS Automator: Create workflows that run disk utility scripts at regular intervals.

3. Monitor Key SMART Attributes

Reallocated Sectors Count: Indicates bad blocks that have been replaced.

Wear Leveling Count: Reflects the evenness of data distribution across memory cells.

Temperature: High temperatures can accelerate wear and cause failures.

Best Practices for SSD Health and Data Security

Regular Backups: Always maintain updated backups to safeguard against sudden failures.

Enable TRIM: Ensures that deleted data blocks are efficiently managed.

Keep Firmware Updated: Manufacturers often release updates to fix bugs and improve drive reliability.

Avoid Full Drive Usage: Maintain at least 10-20% free space to allow efficient data management.

Conclusion

Regular SSD health checks are a proactive strategy to ensure data security, prevent unexpected failures, and optimize performance. With the right tools and scheduled monitoring, users can extend the lifespan of their SSDs and protect valuable data. In an age where data integrity is paramount, regular health checks are not just recommended—they're essential.

[strapstylehub]

The Best Watches for People with Disabilities: A Comprehensive Guide

Explore the top watches designed to enhance the lives of individuals with disabilities. From stylish designs to practical features, discover the best watches that combine functionality and fashion for an improved daily experience. Shop now at WristWatchStraps for the latest in adaptive timepieces.

Introduction

In a world that champions inclusivity, the market for watches tailored to people with disabilities has expanded significantly. This guide navigates the diverse options available, combining style and functionality to meet the unique needs of individuals with disabilities.

The Evolution of Adaptive Watches

Understanding Adaptive Technology

Adaptive watches integrate cutting-edge technology to cater to diverse abilities. Explore the incorporation of tactile features, voice command capabilities, and customizable interfaces, providing a personalized experience for users.

Braille-Inspired Designs

Discover watches with Braille-inspired designs, offering a tactile reading experience for the visually impaired. These watches not only serve a practical purpose but also make a bold fashion statement. Explore our collection at WristWatchStraps to find Braille-inspired watches that redefine accessibility and style.

Inclusive Design for All Abilities

Explore watches designed for various disabilities, emphasizing inclusivity. From easy-to-read faces for individuals with visual impairments to vibration alerts for those with hearing challenges, these watches prioritize accessibility. Visit WristWatchStraps to discover watches that cater to your specific needs.

The Best Watches for People with Disabilities

Stylish and Functional: A Winning Combination

Witness the fusion of style and functionality in watches tailored for individuals with disabilities. These timepieces not only serve as practical aids but also make a fashion statement, empowering users to express their personal style. Check out the latest styles at WristWatchStraps for watches that redefine adaptive fashion.

Voice-Activated Smartwatches

Delve into the world of voice-activated smartwatches that enable hands-free operation. Seamlessly control your watch using voice commands, providing convenience for individuals with mobility challenges. Explore our selection at WristWatchStraps for the latest in voice-activated technology.

Vibrant Designs for Visual Appeal

Explore watches with vibrant designs, catering to individuals who prioritize visual aesthetics. These watches go beyond functionality, becoming stylish accessories that enhance personal expression. Visit WristWatchStraps to find watches that combine visual appeal with practicality.

FAQs

Are adaptive watches water-resistant?

Yes, many adaptive watches come with water-resistant features, ensuring durability and functionality in various conditions.

How often should I charge a voice-activated smartwatch?

The frequency of charging depends on usage. On average, most voice-activated smartwatches require charging every 1 to 2 days for optimal performance.

Can adaptive watches be customized for specific disabilities?

Absolutely. Many adaptive watches offer customizable features, allowing users to tailor the watch to their specific needs and preferences.

Are there adaptive watches suitable for children with disabilities?

Yes, there are adaptive watches designed specifically for children, incorporating fun designs and durable materials to withstand active lifestyles.

Do Braille-inspired watches come in different languages?

Yes, some manufacturers offer Braille-inspired watches with customizable language options, ensuring inclusivity for users worldwide.

Are there budget-friendly options for adaptive watches?

Certainly. The market offers a range of budget-friendly adaptive watches without compromising on quality and functionality.

Conclusion

The best watches for people with disabilities transcend mere timekeeping; they embody inclusivity, style, and functionality. As technology continues to advance, so does the potential to create watches that enhance the lives of individuals with disabilities.

[mentalisttraceur-software]

UNIX should have never allowed newline characters in path names.

We saved one (1) "if" statement in kernel source and approximately one (1) machine instruction in kernel code (it would be more misleading and less honest to say we saved a "branch" - for branch prediction purposes we can assume we'll never see a newline and get approximately zero mispredictions and pipeline flushes in real-world use).

And what did it cost?

Basically any program that outputs or reads file names must have a separate flag to write or parse nul bytes instead of newlines, which of course is never the default, but literally every usage of those commands needs to know about it and think about it just to be sure it's correct, and many uses need to actually use that option.

Huge amounts of software that will probably break in hard-to-debug or silently-does-the-wrong-thing ways, including in ways that create exploitable vulnerabilities, if a file or directory name does contain a newline.

You can't print an error message containing a file name argument without needing to ask yourself if it's still going to be practical to parse if a newline somehow got in there.

Modern operating systems should start to take that capability away. This is not a real-world backwards-compatibility situation. This is literally the Platonic Ideal of a situation where "but backwards compatibility" would let something basically not-even-real indefinitely make things worse for literally everything and everyone. There is approximately zero code anywhere that actually relies on newlines in file system paths. Of course, put it behind a feature flag, leave it defaulted to newlines-allowed for a few years of new releases. (I bet you could convince OpenBSD to do it first... they historically actually have enough respect for the harm potential of edge-cases ignored by most people+code.)

I used to think, for years, that allowing arbitrary characters in file names was okay. Good. Elegant even. That it was all the apps that were mistaken. All that code, all those people, all those shell scripts, every single person who didn't take the time to learn and consider this edge-case.

This was wrong. This was deeply confused. This was profoundly out-of-touch with real humans and real value. This was, at best, the result of too much philosophizing (and treating my ability to mind the edge cases as a virtue and standard to hold others to) while losing track of the real world. During the original UNIX design, it might have also just been amateur and shortsighted. A limitation and inefficiency at the kernel level which keeps an infinity of code from needing to deal with an edge case is freeing and efficient, actually.

I'm so glad I've now accumulated enough experience to see this and update my design sensibilities.

[thedarkmistress16]

Hetalia G8 (+ Canada, Romano, and Prussia) as Teachers (2/3)

Part 1. Part 3.

~Shared Classes~

Traditional Art. Italy, Romano, France, and Japan. Italy will bring in instructors and friends of his to provide their perspective on a specific art movement or style he’s covering, though Italy usually wants them to stay longer and chat with him despite their busy schedules. Even interrupting their guest’s demonstrations at times. He likes bringing in France for the Impressionism movement, Japan for his bold lineart, and Romano to let his brother show off his art skills.

Italian: Italy and Romano. Despite Italy dragging his brother to instruct the course with him on many occasions, Romano is notoriously awful at teaching languages because he frustratedly curses at the students every time. The board still hasn’t done anything about this despite specifically only wanting the younger Italian brother to teach the language.

Technology: Germany, Japan, and America. Germany brings them in for their perspective on the topic and to describe how their cultures advanced their usage of technology as a comparison point between different origin factors, but mainly concerning culture and purpose. Students suspect Germany does this because he can’t teach the required modern section of the course worth shit, and he always denies this despite it clearly being true. He becomes too intimidating on the topic when the students push him on it, and they all quickly back down each time with Japan cringing or America laughing in the background.

Physical Education: Germany, America, and Russia. A German, American, and Russian walk into a gym. The German focuses on posture and overall execution during workouts while the American puts emphasis on stamina and speed, as the Russian encourages improving one’s power and aggressiveness. The American tells the two about his personal training program he wants to pitch to the board to get the kids in shape quickly. The German and the Russian look at the American like he’s insane and chides him for suggesting such a torturous training regimen under the guise of a “cowboy camp.”

Physics: Germany and Russia. The worst class to take because both instructors are bad at being sociable and making the classroom a friendly environment to work in. They also take the course way too seriously. When they start getting into arguments with each other, the students brace themselves as they continuously remind themselves to stay for their degree. Students would report this, if both teachers didn’t stop fighting like a flip of a switch, startling the students and making them wish they took another course instead.

Finance: America and Russia. Despite butting heads constantly, they provide some seasoned insight on the dangers of spending over budget, what loans and credit company practices to look out for, and how to shop smart by comparing prices and understanding return policies in stores and online. This is in part due to their different experiences when it comes to their own finances and how they handled their money. Most students are pleasantly surprised at how smoothly these lectures go and typically feel more confident when approaching their own finances.

Communications. America, Prussia, and Britain. He brings in Prussia for his equally loud and commanding presence, on top of them getting along well and having fun with the class. He only invites Britain when he wants to show his students what a bad example of public speaking is, much to the Englishman’s chagrin. Cue America snoring obnoxiously at the back of the classroom as Britain attempts to try and teach America’s students “something useful about the spoken word in proper English.”

Architecture: France and Britain. They bicker constantly with unnecessary details when comparing their buildings and never stop one-upping each other on who did whatever best. Yet they always manage to stay on topic somehow, which makes the notetaking an absolute nightmare when students read over it later. They realize none of it will be useful on the tests, probably. So they throw their notebooks to the ground in irritation, wanting to switch classes as soon as possible.

French: France and Canada. While France officially and gladly gave Canada the position due to his own course workload, he still pops into Canada’s language class from time to time to lend his own demonstrations and assist with conversations. Trusts his younger brother to teach it despite being peeved that the students are learning more Canadian French nuances than European French ones.

Health. China and America. China only brings in America to make an example out of his unhealthy habits and make fun of him in the process. Every time America falls for the invitation, despite knowing better, and ends up sulking away from a very pleased China.

Filmmaking: Everyone. On rotation. Fight me.

[manjudigi01]

Best Linux Course in Jalandhar

Kickstart a Successful Career with the Top Linux Course in Jalandhar

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Why Learn Linux?

Linux is a free and open-source operating system recognized for its reliability, strong security features, and efficient performance.Linux stands out from closed-source systems by offering extensive customization options, which is why it’s favored by developers, administrators, and network professionals.Companies across the globe rely on Linux-based infrastructure, creating high demand for certified professionals in this domain.

What You’ll Learn in a Linux Course

A well-structured Linux course in Jalandhar will provide hands-on experience with real-world Linux environments. The course spans a wide range of topics, starting with fundamental commands and progressing to shell scripting and managing Linux servers.Introduction to Linux architecture

Command-line interface (CLI) usage

File system management

User and permission control

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This practical approach ensures you're not just learning theory but also building skills that are immediately applicable in professional settings.

Benefits of Linux Training in Jalandhar

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Once you complete your Linux training and earn a Linux certification, a world of job opportunities opens up. You can pursue roles such as:

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These roles not only offer high salaries but also job stability and international career paths.

Conclusion

If you're looking to build a successful tech career, mastering Linux is a smart investment. Enroll in the best Linux course in Jalandhar to gain hands-on expertise, industry-recognized certifications, and the confidence to succeed in today's competitive IT world. Whether you're starting from scratch or leveling up your current skills, Linux knowledge will set you apart in the job market.

[ryleigh130]

Hi!! OMG I LOVE your writing sm- it's so cute and your such a good writer 😭❤️

But..if you want to- I have a request

Do you think you could write some angst like Platonic!141 x reader who goes MIA for weeks-( they suddenly go radio silent on the comms and when they check their last known area they find the mic and dog tags, maybe?) And then one of the 141 members just taking a stroll around base runs into the passed out bloody and bruised body of c/n. They just crawled their way back to them lol?(GOD THIS IS SO CRINGY BUT I NEED SOME HURT/COMFORT PLATONIC FICS)

Lost but Found - - ryleigh130

Characters- cap. price, gaz, soap, and ghost Word Count: 1.7k Relationships- platonic!141 & gn! reader Warnings- profanity, gore, death, 3rd person pov, usage of c/n [code name/call sign], usage of y/n [your name], usage of l/n [last name] Note- Thank you so much for the request! I was a little unsure on how/where to take this but I hope you like it nonetheless! <33

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

The air was thick with tension as the Task Force 141 prepared for their next mission. [c/n] stood among their comrades, checking their gear one last time before the briefing began. Captain Price stood at the front of the room, his gravelly voice commanding the attention of everyone present.

"We've received intel on a high-value target in the heart of enemy territory. [c/n], you'll be leading the extraction team. It's a routine mission, but stay sharp. We can't afford any mistakes."

[c/n] nodded, their heart pounding with anticipation. They were confident in their abilities, but there was always a lingering sense of uncertainty before heading into the unknown.

The mission started smoothly enough. [c/n]'s team moved through the shadows, swiftly eliminating any threats in their path with relative ease. But as they approached the target's location, things took a turn for the worse.

[c/n] led their team to the south side of the territory as instructed, but before they could settle and prepare for extraction, a squadron of what had to be 50 enemy soldiers rained down on [c/n] and their team.

“It’s an ambush! Everyone take cover! Pick them off the best you can, do NOT let the target get away!” [c/n]’s voice rings through the heavy firing of guns causing the team to fall back and go on defense.

The sudden ambush was a shock to the system, catching [c/n] and the rest of the team off guard. The air crackled with tension as enemy forces swarmed in from all directions, their weapons trained on the small team. [c/n]'s heart raced as adrenaline surged through their veins, their training kicking in as they fought for survival.

Bullets flew, filling the air with deadly intent. [c/n] moved with practiced precision, taking down enemy after enemy, but it was a losing battle. The enemy seemed to have the advantage, their numbers overwhelming the task force's defenses.

Amidst the chaos, [c/n] found themselves separated from the rest of the team. Panic threatened to consume them as they realized the gravity of the situation. Surrounded on all sides, with no backup in sight, [c/n] fought with everything they had, desperation lending strength to their limbs.

But it wasn't enough.

A hail of gunfire echoed in the narrow confines of the battlefield, each shot a reminder of the precariousness of their situation. [c/n]'s movements became more frantic as they dodged incoming fire, their senses heightened in the face of imminent danger.

The last thing [c/n] remembered was the deafening sound of gunfire ringing in their ears, the smell of gunpowder hanging heavy in the air. Then, darkness descended like a suffocating blanket, enveloping them in its embrace.

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

"[c/n], come in! [c/n], do you copy?" Soap's voice crackled over the comms, the urgency and worry palpable in every word. After not hearing [c/n]’s affirmation of arriving at the extraction point, the members of the 141 quickly grew worried. Their worry only amplified when their check ups elicit no response from the young soldier. The silence was like an empty void echoing back at them; a mocking reminder of their dire situation.

Panic clawed at Ghost's chest the longer the silence continued, a suffocating grip that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to call out once again, desperation lacing his words. "[c/n], this is Ghost. Respond, damn it!"

But still, there was nothing. The silence stretched on, an agonizing eternity filled with unanswered questions and unspoken fears. The 141's mind raced, a thousand possibilities flickering through their heads like shards of shattered glass.

Had [c/n] been captured? Injured? Lost in the chaos of battle? Gaz clenched his fists, the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire.

"Come on, [y/n]," Gaz muttered under his breath, a fervent prayer to the gods of war. "Don't you dare leave us hanging like this."

But the silence remained, unyielding and absolute. And in that moment, they knew with a sinking heart that their comrade was in grave danger.

“We need to go and find them!” Soap voiced, his tone shaky with clear worry.

“We can’t and you know it Soap, I’m sorry but the mission always comes first. We can’t ignore that, even for the kid.” Price’s strong voice sounds as he authoritatively commands his men. Although they didn’t like it, they all knew he was right and they couldn’t go and find [c/n], at least not until after they successfully completed the mission.

With a new purpose, the team fought with more determination and vigor than ever before. They successfully extracted the target with relative ease, but they still haven't heard from [c/n] or their team which worried them beyond belief. Once they safely situated the target, the 141, consisting of Captain Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, raced towards [c/n]’s last known location.

What they saw shocked them.

Blood covered every inch of the location the team was sent to. Both enemy and allies alike laid dead, bodies still warm, bleeding out. The team split up, quickly scouring the bodies laid before them. They spent what felt like hours looking through the gruesome scene to find their lost teammate but no luck, until suddenly Gaz speaks up,

“Uh guys?” The three whip their heads around to face the young sergeant whose voice shakes with despair. In his hands he holds the dirty, tarnished tags of [y/n] “[c/n]” [l/n].

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

Weeks passed with no sign of [c/n]. The 141 was forced to leave the site, even though they longed to search for any other signs of you. The base was consumed by a somber atmosphere as worry gnawed at the hearts of their comrades. Captain Price refused to give up hope, organizing search missions and interrogating captured enemies for any leads.

Soap paced back and forth in the barracks, his mind filled with thoughts of his missing friend. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. If only he had been there, maybe things would have turned out differently.

A step of heavy footsteps approach Soap and a large, gentle hand finds its place on his shoulder. Turning around, Soap meets Ghost’s tired gaze,

“You’re exhausted Johnny, get some rest. You’re doing them no good by running yourself dry like this.” Soap stubbornly shakes his head,

“"Ye dinnae understand, if ah wis jist there, ah could've…" Ghost holds up his hand effectively shutting Soap up.

“Stop. This is not your fault, there is no way we could’ve predicted this would happen. I miss the kid too, it’s not the same without them but you can’t keep doing this to yourself. We will find them, but we have to keep it together too. For [c/n]” Ghost’s eyes crinkle slightly from under the mask, indicating a smile. Soap smiles back and nods determinedly,

“For [c/n]” The two head off towards the meeting room where the entirety of the base is currently situated in order to find [c/n].

A sense of urgency filled the room as the Task Force mobilized, determined to bring their missing comrade home. Every moment felt like an eternity as they scoured the countryside, following any lead that might lead them to [c/n]

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of [c/n]. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air, threatening to suffocate them all.

But then, just when they were on the brink of losing hope, a miracle occurred.

It was a crisp morning when Gaz decided to take a walk to clear his head. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the landscape. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

His instincts kicked into overdrive as he scanned his surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. And then he saw it—a figure stumbling through the trees, bloodied and bruised, but unmistakably alive.

"[y/n]!" Gaz shouted, racing towards them with tears of relief streaming down his face. "What the fuck!"

[c/n] collapsed into Gaz' arms, their body trembling with exhaustion and pain. Gaz held them close, whispering words of comfort as tears of joy mingled with the blood and dirt on their cheeks.

"We thought we lost you," Gaz choked out, his voice thick with emotion. He quickly helped [c/n] get onto theri unsteady feet and led them back towards base.

[c/n] looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of their lips. "Please, you guys have no confidence in me."

As the two of you approached the base soldiers filed out of the barracks to see both [c/n] and Gaz stumble into the small clearing. A sudden shout draws their attention and before they know it, Soap is practically tackling the pair to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

“Laddie, ye're back! Whit the hell happened tae ye?” Before [c/n] could answer, two more pairs of arms joined the hug. [c/n] looks up to see the large figures of Price and Ghost embracing them in shock.

“Funny story actually. I was the last one in the team standing and there were still too many enemies for me to overpower so, I crawled into some kind of animal den. I didn’t come out until I was sure everyone was gone. My radio broke so I couldn't contact you guys, m’sorry.” [c/n] finished their sentence sadly, bowing their head and staring at their feet. A gentle hand lifted [c/n]’s face to meet their eyes. Price stared back with a soft look on his face,

“Kiddo, we’re just glad you’re ok. We’re so, so, so sorry we couldn’t find you.” [c/n] smiled softly, their eyes shown with exhaustion but pride as they embrace the men they consider family,

“It’s okay. I know you guys tried.” The others nodded vigorously causing [c/n] to let out a soft chuckle.

In that moment, as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm embrace over them, they knew that everything would be okay. For they had faced the darkness together and emerged stronger than ever before.