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goodmode · 2 months ago

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scholarly bug digifake! pulling together several of my favourite themes and tropes to hopefully settle on a digimon partner after all these years :^) info + name origins below the cut!

LARMON

Level: In-Training/Baby II | Attribute: Vaccine | Field: Virus Busters | Type: Larva

A Larva Digimon that hides in its cloth-like outer garment, using its long antennae to listen to the world around it. This Digimon's movement is limited, so it hitches rides by quietly attaching itself to the backs of larger creatures, which can cause an ominous feeling to come over the host as they mistake it for a haunting. This effect seems completely accidental, however, as Larmon themselves tend to be quite sweet-natured and encouraging if they can overcome their shy nature. Overwhelming situations can cause them to give a nasty bite.

Attacks

Phantom Nip - Gives a nasty pinch from its small mandibles.

Night Light - Produces a soft golden glow from its marking and tail that gently repels those of violent spirit.

Namesake

larva(n.) - 1630s, "a ghost, specter, disembodied spirit" (earlier as larve, c. 1600), from Latin larva (plural larvae), earlier larua "ghost, evil spirit, demon," also "mask," a word from Roman mythology, of unknown origin; de Vaan finds a possible derivation from Lar "tutelary god" (see Lares) "quite attractive semantically." Crowded out in its original sense by the zoological use (1768) which began with Linnaeus, who applied the word to immature forms of animals that do not resemble, and thus "mask," the adult forms. [source]

Lares(n.) - Roman tutelary gods and household deities, worshipped in primitive cult rites, Latin, plural of Lar, a word of unknown origin. Infernal, protective of the state and the family, they could be potently evil if offended. Their shrine in the home was a lararium. [source]

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PUERMON

Level: Rookie/Child | Attribute: Vaccine | Field: Virus Busters | Type: Insect

An Insect Digimon with the self-imposed task of infiltrating Virus type groups and strongholds, and using its unique undercover position to learn everything it can, training itself to be able to restore peace and defend the just. In this way, Puermon is sometimes considered a "pest" infesting the networks of Virus Digimon. Highly industrious, Puermon takes its work very seriously, and can lose its temper with anyone who interferes or risks blowing its cover. Its crystalline sceptre is made of all the data Puermon has absorbed, its helix shape slowly building towards Evolution.

Attacks

Lucidate - Holds its staff high, casting a bright golden light that makes evil Digimon lose their fighting spirit and want to move away, and gives focus and sharpness of mind to those with good intentions. The light from this staff can also help make sense of such things as computer code and Digimoji. Puermon may also call out the name of this attack before simply giving someone a punishing bop on the head.

Namesake

pupil(n.1) [student], late 14c., "orphan child, ward, person under the care of a guardian," from Old French pupille (14c.) and directly from Latin pupillus (fem. pupilla) "orphan child, ward, minor," diminutive of pupus "boy" (fem. pupa "girl"), probably related to puer "child" (and thus probably from a suffixed form of PIE root *pau- (1) "few, little"). Meaning "disciple, student youth or any person of either sex under the care of an instructor or tutor" is recorded by 1560s. [source]

puerile(adj.) 1660s, "youthful, boyish," a back-formation from puerility (q.v.), or else from French puéril (15c.), from Latin puerilis "boyish; childish," from puer "boy, child." The depreciative sense of "merely juvenile, immature, lacking intellectual force" is from 1680s. [source]

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AXLAMON

Level: Champion/Adult | Attribute: Vaccine | Field: Virus Busters/Wind Guardians | Type: Insect

An advanced Insect Digimon that has picked up some high-level programming language. Though lacking the formal training of Witchelny, it reached this level of sorcery through necessity and instinct. Because of this, its reflexes and quick thinking put it almost equivalent with the likes of its Witchelny peers, and it spun itself a similar outfit to lend itself credibility as a sorcerer and to hide its true face beneath its cloak.

Its staff has hardened into the shape of an insect's horns, the light of its gathered knowledge kept between them and giving it strength. This staff can be ridden like a broomstick, letting Axlamon hide its new wings inside the sleeves of its cloak.

Despite its outwardly solitary and ascetic temperament, it appears this is simply a mask over the same shyness it had as a Child-level Digimon, and its secretly-passionate heart can be counted on to uplift others and balance the odds at any cost when things look grim.

Attacks

Kindle - Raises its staff to shine a brilliant light. Allies find their best strengths amplified and their wounds healed, and blackhearted foes are weakened and driven back from the holy beacon. This attack can also make sense of computer code, Digimoji, and sometimes things spoken or written in code.

Sacrosanctuary - Stands its ground and casts an illuminated shield of immutable truths and promises around itself and its allies. Its commitment is equal to the strength of its shield.

Opine Flare - Burns off some of its absorbed information data, converting it to a missile of pure energy to strike with. Some data is lost in the conversion, making direct attacks costly.

Namesake

In entomology, "alate" usually refers to the winged form of a social insect, especially ants[2] [source]

alate(adj.) "having wings, winged," 1660s, from Latin alatus, from ala "wing, armpit, wing of an army," from *axla, originally "joint of the wing or arm;" from PIE *aks- "axis" (see axis). [source]

axis (plural axes or (rare) axiis) - (geometry) An imaginary line around which an object spins (an axis of rotation) or is symmetrically arranged (an axis of symmetry). / The centre of attention within a process (e.g. the axis of investigation). [source]

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uhhh if you read this far thank you for the interest! maybe someday i'll do their Perfect/Ultimate form or beyond but for now i ran out of steam so this lil guy's future is mysterious...

please don't use this fakie without permission, but if you do wanna borrow him for a roleplay or something please don't be shy of asking at least, i'm pretty chill

#digifake #digimon #goodmodeart

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ropuszysko · 4 months ago

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lmao reading my older posts i was so apologetic for even suggesting a headcanon and bashed myself constantly, babyperson, this is tumblr dot com, what were you afraid of. its so good to not be 15 anymore, good grief. anyway, my random huntik headcanons, bc I CAN AND I WILL:

× ethnixally zhalia is ¼ korean, ¾ some central asian turkic nation (i personally would say kazakh just bc i am fond of kazakhstan for whatever reason)

× shes an absolute math freak and sometimes works in data science as a hobby

× her favourite artist is m. c. escher and she creates her own tesselations

× she had a hardcore alt phase, which passed for the most part, but she still listens to the music

× klaus is a vienna elitist, who deliberately speaks with heavy viennese accent, even tho he doesn't frequent liesing

× bc of that, its also zhalia's natural accent in german and dante likes to tease her abt it (i think they tend to speak german with each other, since for both of them this is their second language and they definitely used it most of the time growing up)

× also bc of that, default names for coffee types in her head are also the viennese ones and she sometimes has to remind herself, that most people have no idea, what melange is (or verlängter, or entspänner (tho i doubt she like rhis), or fiaker, or...)

× also bc of that, she plays the piano, but is utterly fed up with wiener klassiker and prefers eastern composers (and liszt)

× to wind down she sometimes plays absurdly fast classical pieces, but with metronome set to ×1,5, so they are even faster

× i also think both her and dante are quite straight edge, bc she used to have substance abuse problems as a teenager (tried and failed to cope with trauma this way) and doesn't want to relapse. her experience is why dante also went abstinent after he came back from the dead, bc it served as enough of a cautionary tale

× dante's academic background is archeology and he specilises in pre-columbian civilisations. he also can read maya script

×at some point harrison moves back to rotterdam (feijenoord) and forms a punk band, where he plays the guitar (dante taught him) and sometimes sings (screams), but i think they have a female lead vocalist

×he also goes hardcore into the punk values, probably becomes a squatter for some time, volounteers in soup kitchens and goes hardcore "mutual aid, not charity" route (is it a trauma response? it probably is), i think he spent at least one night in custody for getting into a fight with some bigots

×meanwhile den is queer af, but has a hard time accepting it for quite a while and builds a womanizer persona (only to then realise that he is gay)

thank you for coming to my ted talk

#kcnzf #huntik #huntik secrets and seekers

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codingquill · 2 years ago

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JavaScript Fundamentals

I have recently completed a course that extensively covered the foundational principles of JavaScript, and I'm here to provide you with a concise overview. This post will enable you to grasp the fundamental concepts without the need to enroll in the course.

Prerequisites: Fundamental HTML Comprehension

Before delving into JavaScript, it is imperative to possess a basic understanding of HTML. Knowledge of CSS, while beneficial, is not mandatory, as it primarily pertains to the visual aspects of web pages.

Manipulating HTML Text with JavaScript

When it comes to modifying text using JavaScript, the innerHTML function is the go-to tool. Let's break down the process step by step:

Initiate the process by selecting the HTML element whose text you intend to modify. This selection can be accomplished by employing various DOM (Document Object Model) element selection methods offered by JavaScript ( I'll talk about them in a second )

Optionally, you can store the selected element in a variable (we'll get into variables shortly).

Employ the innerHTML function to substitute the existing text with your desired content.

Element Selection: IDs or Classes

You have the opportunity to enhance your element selection by assigning either an ID or a class:

Assigning an ID:

To uniquely identify an element, the .getElementById() function is your go-to choice. Here's an example in HTML and JavaScript:

HTML:

<button id="btnSearch">Search</button>

JavaScript:

document.getElementById("btnSearch").innerHTML = "Not working";

This code snippet will alter the text within the button from "Search" to "Not working."

Assigning a Class:

For broader selections of elements, you can assign a class and use the .querySelector() function. Keep in mind that this method can select multiple elements, in contrast to .getElementById(), which typically focuses on a single element and is more commonly used.

Variables

Let's keep it simple: What's a variable? Well, think of it as a container where you can put different things—these things could be numbers, words, characters, or even true/false values. These various types of stuff that you can store in a variable are called DATA TYPES.

Now, some programming languages are pretty strict about mentioning these data types. Take C and C++, for instance; they're what we call "Typed" languages, and they really care about knowing the data type.

But here's where JavaScript stands out: When you create a variable in JavaScript, you don't have to specify its data type or anything like that. JavaScript is pretty laid-back when it comes to data types.

So, how do you make a variable in JavaScript?

There are three main keywords you need to know: var, let, and const.

But if you're just starting out, here's what you need to know :

const: Use this when you want your variable to stay the same, not change. It's like a constant, as the name suggests.

var and let: These are the ones you use when you're planning to change the value stored in the variable as your program runs.

Note that var is rarely used nowadays

Check this out:

let Variable1 = 3; var Variable2 = "This is a string"; const Variable3 = true;

Notice how we can store all sorts of stuff without worrying about declaring their types in JavaScript. It's one of the reasons JavaScript is a popular choice for beginners.

Arrays

Arrays are a basically just a group of variables stored in one container ( A container is what ? a variable , So an array is also just a variable ) , now again since JavaScript is easy with datatypes it is not considered an error to store variables of different datatypeslet

for example :

myArray = [1 , 2, 4 , "Name"];

Objects in JavaScript

Objects play a significant role, especially in the world of OOP : object-oriented programming (which we'll talk about in another post). For now, let's focus on understanding what objects are and how they mirror real-world objects.

In our everyday world, objects possess characteristics or properties. Take a car, for instance; it boasts attributes like its color, speed rate, and make.

So, how do we represent a car in JavaScript? A regular variable won't quite cut it, and neither will an array. The answer lies in using an object.

const Car = { color: "red", speedRate: "200km", make: "Range Rover" };

In this example, we've encapsulated the car's properties within an object called Car. This structure is not only intuitive but also aligns with how real-world objects are conceptualized and represented in JavaScript.

Variable Scope

There are three variable scopes : global scope, local scope, and function scope. Let's break it down in plain terms.

Global Scope: Think of global scope as the wild west of variables. When you declare a variable here, it's like planting a flag that says, "I'm available everywhere in the code!" No need for any special enclosures or curly braces.

Local Scope: Picture local scope as a cozy room with its own rules. When you create a variable inside a pair of curly braces, like this:

//Not here { const Variable1 = true; //Variable1 can only be used here } //Neither here

Variable1 becomes a room-bound secret. You can't use it anywhere else in the code

Function Scope: When you declare a variable inside a function (don't worry, we'll cover functions soon), it's a member of an exclusive group. This means you can only name-drop it within that function. .

So, variable scope is all about where you place your variables and where they're allowed to be used.

Adding in user input

To capture user input in JavaScript, you can use various methods and techniques depending on the context, such as web forms, text fields, or command-line interfaces.We’ll only talk for now about HTML forms

HTML Forms:

You can create HTML forms using the <;form> element and capture user input using various input elements like text fields, radio buttons, checkboxes, and more.

JavaScript can then be used to access and process the user's input.

Functions in JavaScript

Think of a function as a helpful individual with a specific task. Whenever you need that task performed in your code, you simply call upon this capable "person" to get the job done.

Declaring a Function: Declaring a function is straightforward. You define it like this:

function functionName() { // The code that defines what the function does goes here }

Then, when you need the function to carry out its task, you call it by name:

functionName();

Using Functions in HTML: Functions are often used in HTML to handle events. But what exactly is an event? It's when a user interacts with something on a web page, like clicking a button, following a link, or interacting with an image.

Event Handling: JavaScript helps us determine what should happen when a user interacts with elements on a webpage. Here's how you might use it:

HTML:

<button onclick="FunctionName()" id="btnEvent">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

function FunctionName() { var toHandle = document.getElementById("btnEvent"); // Once I've identified my button, I can specify how to handle the click event here }

In this example, when the user clicks the "Click me" button, the JavaScript function FunctionName() is called, and you can specify how to handle that event within the function.

Arrow functions : is a type of functions that was introduced in ES6, you can read more about it in the link below

If Statements

These simple constructs come into play in your code, no matter how advanced your projects become.

If Statements Demystified: Let's break it down. "If" is precisely what it sounds like: if something holds true, then do something. You define a condition within parentheses, and if that condition evaluates to true, the code enclosed in curly braces executes.

If statements are your go-to tool for handling various scenarios, including error management, addressing specific cases, and more.

Writing an If Statement:

if (Variable === "help") { console.log("Send help"); // The console.log() function outputs information to the console }

In this example, if the condition inside the parentheses (in this case, checking if the Variable is equal to "help") is true, the code within the curly braces gets executed.

Else and Else If Statements

Else: When the "if" condition is not met, the "else" part kicks in. It serves as a safety net, ensuring your program doesn't break and allowing you to specify what should happen in such cases.

Else If: Now, what if you need to check for a particular condition within a series of possibilities? That's where "else if" steps in. It allows you to examine and handle specific cases that require unique treatment.

Styling Elements with JavaScript

This is the beginner-friendly approach to changing the style of elements in JavaScript. It involves selecting an element using its ID or class, then making use of the .style.property method to set the desired styling property.

Example:

Let's say you have an HTML button with the ID "myButton," and you want to change its background color to red using JavaScript. Here's how you can do it:

HTML: <button id="myButton">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

// Select the button element by its ID const buttonElement = document.getElementById("myButton"); // Change the background color property buttonElement.style.backgroundColor = "red";

In this example, we first select the button element by its ID using document.getElementById("myButton"). Then, we use .style.backgroundColor to set the background color property of the button to "red." This straightforward approach allows you to dynamically change the style of HTML elements using JavaScript.

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izicodes · 2 years ago

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Learning C++ | Log #1

Friday 20th October 2023

I have been studying C++ for some time now, and I'm really happy with my progress. I really thought it was a super difficult programming language (I am jinxing it right now, aren't I?), but what I mean is that even the beginner stuff would be hard. But it's not!

Two days ago, I stumbled upon a website called Saymor Academy, buried seven pages deep in Google. I decided to check out the CS107: C++ Programming course, and I'm so glad I did! I've been learning so much, and it's been a blast, especially since I'm taking the course along with my friend over on Discord teaching me C++ too.

Learning can be challenging, but it's also incredibly rewarding. Once I master the basics, I'll be able to create all sorts of amazing things. I can't wait!

In the meantime, I'm just enjoying the journey~! So if you're ever thinking about learning C++, I highly recommend checking out Saymor Academy. It's a great resource, and it's a lot of fun!

☆ What I learnt today...

History of C++

Syntax

Comments

Data types

Variables

User Input

⤷ ♡ my shop ○ my mini website ○ pinned ○ navigation ♡

#xc: studies #codeblr #coding #progblr #programming #studyblr #studying #computer science #tech #cplusplus #c++ studies #c++ programming #c++ language

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vibratingskull · 9 months ago

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Hi! I saw your open to chiss requests? I’ve just read the thrawn ascendency trilogy and I’m down bad for Somakro. Grumpy man with a loyal heart of gold?? I’m down so bad.

Anyway. Maybe a fluffy fic about Somakro having feelings for a fellow officer? Maybe he sees her help little skywalker chiri with something and his heart melts because he already respected her military prowess but she’s also good with kids??

I’d really take anything

Grumpy man being a sweetheart deep inside!!! 🥹🥹🥹 It woos me every time! Come get your glorious man and sweep him off his feet!

art by @jun-c

Samakro x F!Chiss!reader

Tags: Fluffy fluff, lil bit of childcare

Samakro types on his questis, keeping a sharp gaze on the officers under his command and Ch’eri on her chair. When he is on the bridge nothing escapes him, he becomes an all-seeing being, monitoring his warriors and keeping tabs on everything happening. His subordinates feel him looming behind them and straighten their posture by reflex.

The Springhawk leaves hyperspace in a resounding thud, shaking everyone present. They arrived.

“Send me the last coordinates of the Pirates.” Samakro orders.

He spins to go sit in the command chair and has to muster all his will to not take a step back before you. He didn't hear you approaching. You smile gently, handing him a microchip.

“The coordinates, sir.” You say respectfully.

Well, that was quick!

That was instantly even.

He takes the chip and inserts it in the port of his questis.

“I will also need the calculations of their last 8 travels recorded, their spotted hideouts, and the audio recordings of the messages in their native language.”

“They are all in there.” You nod.

Oh...

Well, it is refreshing to have officers able to think ahead.

“I highlighted the pirates’ favorite routes and calculated some probability for their possible next spot appearance, I noticed a trend in the hours they chose to attack the Ascendancy. They seem random but there is a constant of 3 days and 5 hours between each of them, rinse and repeat 5 times then they disappear for two weeks to a month and resume.” You explain.

Samakro looks at you, almost suspiciously.

“And you noticed that alone?”

“I studied the data during my break times.”

That’s a heavy workload that you just lift from their shoulders. He and Thrawn will need to check if you are correct in your speculation but that will not take more than 45 minutes to review the data.

“Thank you... Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)” He finally says after ogling you for several mute seconds.

“Of course, Sir!” You stand to attention with a smile and walk away.

He pretends to look back to his questis once again but looks at you walking away. That is not the first time you proved yourself zealous, and the Chiss expansionary defense fleet adores those types of behavior. If you are indeed right in your analysis he should keep a closer tab on you, you may become the next prized pupil of the fleet and his job is to facilitate your accession to higher ranks for the common good.

He observes how you chuckle and give handshakes to several colleagues as you take back your place. You are visibly popular, which can also be an advantage in the future. With his gruff personality, Samakro was not really appreciated in the ranks of the Navy and counted his friends on the fingers of one hand.

You do not seem to have that problem.

“Skywalker Che’ri, you may return to your room and rest.” He orders, refocusing on the data.

“O...Okay...” He hears the tired voice of the little girl.

He sniffs, eyes on the screen when reality strikes him.

Thalias is with Thrawn in his office!

He spins his head just in time to see the little girl losing her balance as she heads toward the door.

He is about to throw his questis to the other side of the bridge and lunge to catch the poor child when you pop out of nowhere and receive her little body in the security of your arms.

“Careful there, Che’ri!” You chuckle with a bright reassuring smile, “I would hate for you to hurt yourself!”

Samakro finishes crossing the bridge to join you both and kneels next to you. Che’ri raises her visibly tired face toward you and sighs.

“I... I am sorry (Y/n).” she says almost in tears.

The kid is exhausted, they had to push her limits to reach their destination. Usually, even Samakro is uneasy with the idea of overworking a child, but those pirates kidnapped several Chiss girls.

Several potential Skywalkers...

They NEEDED to arrive before all of them, and for that, they needed Che’ri to push past her limits. But now she is obviously distraught, and Samakro feels a pinch in his heart.

But you simply laugh and caress her hair gently.

“Do not be, silly. You worked really hard today! You deserve a warm dinner and a good, long night’s sleep!’

Samakro witnesses as you casually kiss the top of the head of the little girl.

Where does that familiarity come from?

But Che’ri doesn’t seem weirded out by your action and even presses her little cheek against your arm hugging her. Che’ri sighs again under the caresses on her hair, she looks ready to lose consciousness. She clearly is in no condition to walk back to her suite.

“Skywalker Che’ri, with your consent I will carry you to your suite, all right?” He says, extending his large hand to her.

You both turn your head to him, you with a silent approving gaze and her with drawn features and glossy eyes.

He knows Che’ri is kind of afraid of him. He doesn't exude the calm and paternal aura Thrawn has around the girl, he is too rough around the edges to her liking.

But she takes his hand nonetheless with a tired nod.

“Okay...”

You help him lift her by seizing her hips and he wraps his arms around her solidly to not let her fall. He feels her tiny arms wrap around his solid neck and her face lays on his shoulder, she hugs him like she would a plushie. You both stand back up and he heads toward the bridge door with the most precious package ever in his arms.

“Junior Captain, I leave you the bridge for now.” He orders, crossing the bridge door.

He doesn’t say a thing but he feels silent tears starting to wet his collar and shoulder. Poor little one...

“Do not cry Che’ri, you did a really good job today.” Your voice rises out of nowhere.

Samakro stops dead in his tracks, realizing you are following him.

“Why are you here?” He demands, “I did not authorize you to leave your post.”

You tap your chrono at your wrist with a grin.

“My shift just ended.”

He sniffs.

“Then go eat and rest. I am taking care of this.”

“Oh, so you know where her nightclothes are and where she puts her favorite plushie?” You ask with a surprised but gentle expression.

He considers you in silence for several seconds. Did you ever give a bad look to someone once in your life he caught himself wondering.

“Because you do, perhaps?”

You snigger and enjoin him to follow you.

“This way, Mid-Captain.”

You walk beside each other, Samakro with his usual gruff demeanor and you a silent confident smile. You turn to look at him and your smile stretches more.

“What is it, Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)?” He inquires, looking straight ahead.

Usually, he hates being ogled like that, but this is not the effect your gaze has on him.

Instead, he feels... Shy? Unconfident?

Why is that?

He is surely a little sick...

“Nothing.” You shake your head softly, “Or rather, yes: Do you have kids Captain Samakro?”

He feels his eyes rounding up at that question. What... What made you think it was appropriate to ask such a thing?!

“No, I do not. I am not married.” He recovers the control of his expression.

“Oh really? Paternity looks really good on you! You always look so... Moody but watching you taking care of Che’ri shines a new light on you.”

He side-eyes you, looking for mockery on your face. But your red eyes shimmer with a gentle warmth and your grin is soft.

“Although...” You take a step closer and lower your voice like you are about to share a secret, “After that scene, you may not remain unmarried for long...”

This time he fully turns his head toward you, with an indignant expression. What got over you?

“Do not look so shocked, Captain. What is truly shocking is that you are still single!” You raise an eyebrow with a know-it-all expression.

“And in what way is it shocking exactly?” He demands with a haughty voice.

“Now come on... The gruff big man with a secret heart of gold! It’s a classic.”

“It’s a cliche!” He corrects, “And we are not in a holo.”

“But you look like you come straight out of one!” You keep going, “You could have done modeling or acting with such a face! Oh, all the broken hearts you would have left in your trail...”

Samakro reassures his grip on Che’ri’s body to put on a front, but inside he feels turmoil.

Why are you complimenting him so much out of nowhere? Why would you...

Oh for fucks sake...

Politics.

He sighs internally, really he can’t escape politics wherever he goes! Now it has to walk next to him in the corridors of the Springhawk...

He is about to open his mouth to shut you down for the rest of the day when an ungodly sound resonates in the corridor. You both look at Che’ri, who seems to bury her face harder in the crook of his neck.

“It wasn’t me...” Samakro hears her muffled little voice.

“Oh, Che’ri...” You put your hand on her back to caress it gently, “It’s okay, dear. Wait, I think I have something in my pockets.”

You search your pockets until you take out a cereal bar that you give to the skywalker. She eagerly takes it, opens the package, and bites into it immediately. Samakro observes the little girl’s expression relaxing as she eats the treat.

“Good thinking Officer.” He nods to you, “You seem to have experience with children. I imagine you have one?” He throws back the question at you, see how you like it.

“Oh no.” You chuckle, “I am unmarried too.”

“Really? A motherly woman like you did not find a man to wed?” He mocks playfully, raising a haughty eyebrow at you.

But...

For some unknown reason

He is relieved to learn you are single.

“Alas, I did not!” You laugh, unbothered, “All my other partners were rather immature, not husband nor father materials... Contrary to you, Captain.”

He stops again.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Only that your time of celibacy might be more short-lived than you expect.” You grin, “People talk to me, sir. You are quite popular.”

Great... a fat lot of good that does him!

“I am here to serve the Ascendancy, Officer! Not to find a wife!” He clarifies harshly.

Which prompts your grin to grow larger again.

“This is exactly what Fleet Admiral Bak’if said before finding a wife in his crew!”

“I am not Fleet Admiral Ba’kif.”

“True, but you might be our next Fleet Admiral!” You theorize, “You have all that is needed for the job: Courage, a cunning attitude, great tactical abilities, charisma-”

“Drop the compliments.” He cuts you short, at the end of his patience, “What do you really want?”

You consider him, mute for the first time.

He gauges you back. If you play politics, you are way too upfront about it! Complimenting someone so much is so amateurish...

But

That is not what makes his blood boil he realizes.

What makes it boil is that you may compliment him for a hidden goal and not because you truly mean it.

He should not care.

But the thought that all your words might be false in your head... Stabs his heart.

He mentally shakes his head. Why does he even care what you think in the first place?

...

Because you are a great officer, with a lot of good qualities. One of those that are too rare. He met plenty of good officers, but rarely great ones. And seeing one playing the political game so badly, risking getting caught and destroying their own career like that is disheartening.

Yes

This is surely why he feels like that..

No possible other reason!

You squint at him, your soft expression gone to leave the place to a more... thoughtful one.

And to his surprise.

You start giggling.

You let out a breathy laugh before hiding your growing elated smile behind your hand, your red eyes shimmering like glitter and pure light. The notes of your laugh are like none other, they rise high, where the angels are. They are like a song to his ears, a delicious melody he never heard before but he feels like he has known all his life.

Are you... Mocking him?

Usually, he would use his Captain’s voice and shut you down harshly, disciplining you into obedience and teaching you respect for your superior. But he feels his legs melting into jello and his heart picks up pace in some sort of panic he cannot explain.

Why do you have such effects on him?

“What did I say?” He finally demands, trying to sound intimidating.

Not really succeeding.

You take a step closer and your hand travels from his shoulder to his hand and you intertwine your fingers.

And for some reason

He lets you do it.

Samakro isn’t used to small physical acts of affection. He collects partners to get his release and then they both go their merry way. He knows why he is seeking them out and they know why they accept him in their sheets, they do the deed and never speak ever again.

It is simple and effective.

But somehow.

The simple act of holding your soft hand puts him in turmoil even his most kinky partners never managed to do!

He feels his heart accelerating and his breath getting more shallow.

This... is not an act of lust and primal carnal desire.

But of tenderness and affection, such simple fondness and adoration.

He should rip his hand out of your grip, he knows he should.

But it is beyond him.

He feels more naked than he ever has in his entire life, making his stomach twist and a strange warm sensation spread in his stomach.

Making him feel... fluffy.

You gently raise on your tip toe and very slowly, very gently, kiss his cheek.

It is short.

It is chaste.

It is sweet.

It is utterly devastating.

He audibly gasp despite his best effort at the touch of your soft lips.

Wh... Why do you make him feel like this?

He turns his gaze to you, unsure, to discover you looking at him with pure, raw adoration in your burning gaze.

“Let’s put Che’ri to bed, and then we will talk over a cup of caccoleaf. I will explain everything.”

And you boop his nose with the most mischievous grin he ever saw.

“What do you say, Mid-Captain?” You tilt your head.

“All... All right.” He finally gulps, his throat dries like the desert.

For some reason

Sharing a cup of caccoleaf cup with you is the most thrilling proposition anyone ever gave him. And he had numerous proposition.

You squeeze his hand gently in yours, your soft confident smile on your face, looking sure of yourself, you guide him yourself in the corridor.

And for Samakro for whom getting power and obedience from his crew was his goal...

He thinks that following someone’s else lead might not be that bad after all...

Especially yours.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @leo4242564@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

#samakro #samakro x reader #samakro x f!reader #ufsa'mak'ro #thrawn #thrawn ascendency #fanfic #vibratingskull

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botgal · 1 year ago

Note

oh and which sites will be affected ofc

AB 3080, according to the bill's text, would affect websites which sells the types of items listed below

(b) Products or services that are illegal to sell to a minor under state law that are subject to subdivision (a) include all of the following:

(1) An aerosol container of paint that is capable of defacing property, as referenced in Section 594.1 of the Penal Code.

(2) Etching cream that is capable of defacing property, as referenced in Section 594.1 of the Penal Code.

(3) Dangerous fireworks, as referenced in Sections 12505 and 12689 of the Health and Safety Code.

(4) Tanning in an ultraviolet tanning device, as referenced in Sections 22702 and 22706 of the Business and Professions Code.

(5)��Dietary supplement products containing ephedrine group alkaloids, as referenced in Section 110423.2 of the Health and Safety Code.

(6) Body branding, as referenced in Sections 119301 and 119302 of the Health and Safety Code.

(c) Products or services that are illegal to sell to a minor under state law that are subject to subdivision (a) include all of the following:

(1) Firearms or handguns, as referenced in Sections 16520, 16640, and 27505 of the Penal Code.

(2) A BB device, as referenced in Sections 16250 and 19910 of the Penal Code.

(3) Ammunition or reloaded ammunition, as referenced in Sections 16150 and 30300 of the Penal Code.

(4) Any tobacco, cigarette, cigarette papers, blunt wraps, any other preparation of tobacco, any other instrument or paraphernalia that is designed for the smoking or ingestion of tobacco, products prepared from tobacco, or any controlled substance, as referenced in Division 8.5 (commencing with Section 22950) of the Business and Professions Code, and Sections 308, 308.1, 308.2, and 308.3 of the Penal Code.

(5) Electronic cigarettes, as referenced in Section 119406 of the Health and Safety Code.

(6) A less lethal weapon, as referenced in Sections 16780 and 19405 of the Penal Code."

This is stated explicitly to include "internet website on which the owner of the internet website, for commercial gain, knowingly publishes sexually explicit content that, on an annual basis, exceeds one-third of the contents published on the internet website". Wherein "sexually explicit content" is defined as "visual imagery of an individual or individuals engaging in an act of masturbation, sexual intercourse, oral copulation, or other overtly sexual conduct that, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value."

This would likely not include websites like AO3 or any website which displays NSFW content not in excess of 1/3 of the content on the site. Possibly not inclusive of writing because of the "visual imagery", but don't know at this time. In any case we don't want to set a precedent off of which it could springboard into non-commercial websites or any and all places with NSFW content.

AB 1949 is a lot more broad because it's about general data collection by any and all websites in which they might sell personal data collected by the website to third parties, especially if aimed specifically at minors or has a high chance of minors commonly accesses the site. But with how broad the language is I can't say there would be ANY limits to this one. So both are equally bad and would require equal attention in my opinion.

#kosa #ab 3080 #ab 1949 #california #bad internet bills #online privacy #online safety

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perfectlyvalid49 · 7 months ago

Note

Hey! Thanks for the feedback and think there’s a lot of validity in what you’re saying. I think my frustration is that even within the “3%” minority, that applies to most things given how diverse human experience is. Trans/Intersex people, various disabilities/genetic “defects” (re: Type 1 Diabetes, anemia, etc) are probably around the same percentage and still LARGELY matter. Same applies to other Native people’s who have also experienced genocide.

I largely push back on the notion that “no Jews exist in the surrounding countries of Israel” given that:

A) Kurds exist and are a part of the Semitic diaspora

B) that’s like saying that no queer people exist in North Korea because they’ve systematically attempted to kill everyone who “looks gay”. People (ESPECIALLY the Jewish spirit) exist everywhere because

C) I have a Jewish friend who is adopted from China which is a WILD set of identities to fathom existing simultaneously but I promise you there’s a lot of power in solidarity

My biggest Christicism (this was a typo but I’m keeping it because I think it’s funny lololol) of the Abrahamic faiths is the rigidity of structure and lack of intercommunication between faiths because it all seems extremely isolating which, fine, but there is something weirdly healing about more henotheistic beliefs which feel just as empowering. I think that’s why Kabbalah is so appealing

Please correct me if I’m wrong, but from scrolling through your blog, it seems that you are not Jewish. If you are not part of the community, then you can only be coming at this from an outsider’s perspective.

To discuss the 3% thing (no idea why you felt the need to put it in quotes) – In the US, the Native American population is about 3% of the total. You hear a lot more about Native American struggles in the US (still not enough) than you would in England. Similarly, that 3% of non-Western Jewish voices are heard more inside of the Jewish community than outside of it. If you want them heard outside of the Jewish community, you might start by advocating for goyim to listen to Jews at all.

Your pushback is full of shit given that I didn’t say that “no Jews exist in the surrounding countries of Israel” (don’t put it in quotes if you’re not quoting buddy, I refuse to be your strawman) I said “there are many countries in the world with 0 Jews (several of them share borders with Israel)” and also:

A) Most Kurds are not Jewish. They don’t identify as Jewish, and Jews don’t identify them (as a group, not individuals) as Jewish. Most Kurds are Muslim. There is no such thing as a Semitic people, only Semitic languages, and if you’re counting all speakers of Semitic languages as Jewish, then all speakers of Arabic would be Jewish, an assertion that I feel they would object to. You trying to make people Jewish because they’re “Semitic” is at best a sign that you don’t know what you’re talking about and at worst a sign that I’m about to hear some antisemitic nonsense.

B) You can’t be Jewish just because you have “the Jewish spirit.” Judaism is a semi-closed religion, so to be Jewish you either have to be born to Jews, or you have to convert, a process that can require months to years of study, and cannot be finalized without the presence of other Jews. You could argue that there are people who would convert if given the opportunity everywhere, but they are not Jews until the conversion process is complete. And we have census data from these countries saying that there are no Jews. There are no Jews in Jordan, Syria, Libya, Sudan, Afghanistan, Oman or Saudi Arabia. There are fewer than 50 in Lebanon, Iraq, Algeria, Egypt, or Yemen.

C) Chinese Jewish is actually not that weird of a combination. There were Jews in China hundreds of years ago that got there on the silk road, and there were Jews in China in the 1940s because of basically one heroic bureaucrat that was approving visas to move there for Jews escaping Europe at a time when no other country was accepting them. There are more Jews today in China than there are in all of the countries I listed in the last paragraph combined. I’m not sure what that has to do with the lack of Jews outside of Israel in the middle east though.

As I mentioned above, Judaism is a semi-closed religion, and Kabbalah is restricted practice even within Judaism. If you are not Jewish, then you need to stay away from Kabbalah. Interacting with it is cultural appropriation of the highest order and as disgusting as putting on black face, or putting some feathers in your hair and dancing around and claiming that you’re doing a Native American ritual.

#asks and answers #GROSS #gross gross gross #I've been answering this person's asks in good faith #even though they've got some really antisemitic stuff on their blog #because they've been polite with me #and the only way to turn people around is to actually talk with them #but this ask is throwing some SERIOUS red flags #yuck

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wishcamper · 1 year ago

Text

Squeaked in at the last minute for Day 6 of @gwynweekofficial!

Here's the first chapter of a modern Gwynriel grad student AU. Read below the cut or on ao3!

Dark Matter

CW: referenced sexual assault, language, Nesta smoking weed lol

The effects of lucid dreaming on PTSD-related nightmares (as well as waking symptoms) have been discussed in several studies collecting anecdotal data from amateur practitioners (Gibbons et al, 2016). Further research has been conducted on brain activity during lucid dreaming as well as PTSD-related nightmares. Both phenomena demonstrate brain activity in the amygdala, where the brain stores emotional memory (CITATION), and lucid dreaming introduces activity in the prefrontal cortex often absent during nervous system dysregulation (THAT ARTICLE I CANT FUCKING FIND REMEMBER TO ASK ANAKE).

Traumatic memory reconsolidation through techniques such as eye-movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) indicate therapeutic value in ‘re-living’ traumatic experiences in formats that promote autonomy and agency for the victimized person (CITATION) (IS THIS LANGUAGE RIGHT?). Preliminary data using the Nightmare Protocol (Rothschild, 2000) in closed lab conditions show a decrease in symptoms of hypervigilance, waking flashbacks, and PTSD-related nightmares (Merrill & Berdara, 2023). This study will explore the possible link and therapeutic benefits of

“Think fast, bitch.”

Gwyn looked up from where she’d been typing feverishly, blinking at her friend who was looming over her on the sofa, waggling a fuzzy blanket and an unlabeled prescription bottle stuffed with weed. Nesta sat down next to her so their thighs were touching and wrapped the blanket around them both without asking, blocking out the chill of the A/C blasting full throttle.

Yet despite the sigh that escaped her, Gwyn knew Nesta didn’t need to ask - this was exactly what she’d come over for, whether she regretted the request or not.

“I texted Cass to see what his plans are, I’ll let you know when I hear from him,” Nesta said. Her voice was sharp, articulate, and it always reminded Gwyn of the ladies from period dramas, though there was nothing demure and blushing about her. Nothing but fierce determination in the woman who lifted the laptop from her hands and scooted it out of reach before grabbing the rolling papers from the coffee table drawer. Nesta rolled a neat joint with the same dedication as she did all her cases, the same way she’d taken Gwyn under her wing all those years ago.

They’d met in a class called Children of Divorce, which turned out to be more boring than depressing, but the two had formed a quick bond bitching about the dumbass professor, the limits of academia in general.

Nesta had been very protective of her from the start, which had confused Gwyn at first, but she’d come to accept the stubbornness of her friend’s care, the deep privilege of having someone so loyal on her side. Along with their friend Emerie, Gwyn had never felt more solid in her relationships, more held and loved by the people in her life.

Which was fortunate giving what a fucking train wreck that life had become in the past year.

Gwyn heard the front door open, a tired grunt and the sound of a heavy bag being dropped on the floor. She felt her shoulders tense reflexively and tried to relax them, picturing the sparkling blue of the bay where she’d vacationed as a child.

“Hi baby,” Nesta called from the couch. “Gwyn’s here.”

She grabbed the laptop and typed something quickly before setting it aside, tilted toward Gwyn, and heading into the kitchen. Gwyn saw the Google search bar on the screen, the words entered there: do you need him to find somewhere else to be?

Her heart swelled at her friend’s kindness, her consideration. Nesta had been so good from the very beginning at helping Gwyn feel comfortable without making a big deal about it. She half-listened to the couple greet each other, unable to help the small smile that rose to her lips.

“How was training?”

“Awful. I’m slow as shit right now.”

If Nesta’s ferocity was clear when she spoke, Cassian’s overall bigness was evident in his voice, the happy boom of it reverberating like the subwoofers they used to dance on top of at house parties in undergrad. They’d gotten a lot closer this summer given how much time she spent at their townhouse, and Gwyn felt lucky to call him a friend even though she was still uneasy around men.

“You should run with Az again. Last time you were so mad he was faster, you got better out of spite.”

“Oh my god, why did you tell me that? That’s exactly what I have to do. You’re so smart.”

Gwyn heard the sound of Cassian kissing his wife’s cheek, her answering noise of disgust.

“And you smell horrible.”

“Yeah I’m gonna go shower, my running rival is coming to pick me up in a bit.”

Nesta appeared back in the living room, pointed her thumb down and then up - a question. Gwyn returned a thumbs up, and Nesta smiled.

“Why don’t you hang out here?” she called back into the kitchen, and Gwyn heard cabinets opening, the rush of water in the sink.

“Is that cool with you guys?”

“I told Gwyn all I wanted to do was get high and eat Thai and watch Love is Blind. So if that’s your pleasure, feel free.”

Cassian appeared around the corner with a big cup of water, the plastic splashed with an image of Nesta’s face twisted in fury, a souvenir of his bachelor party. He grinned at Gwyn, his gym clothes and swept back hair damp with sweat. “I’ll text Az. We were gonna get food I think, but maybe we’ll come back after,” he said before disappearing to the bedroom, and she heard the shower starting, the whoosh of the pipes in the wall.

Nesta was already nestled into the couch when Gywn came back to herself, remote held aloft, drawing long from the joint she’d left smoldering in the ashtray. She held it out across the sofa but Gwyn shook her head, diving back into her literature review instead, for as long as Nesta would allow, anyway.

Not that she was above smoking, but it made her paranoid and jumpy, didn’t give her the mellow feeling she craved. Gwyn had tried everything and anything to help her sleep by this point, though her darkest hours were still plagued with dreams of cramped elevators, wine-stained lips, the cold click of wheels across hospital floor tiles. During the disciplinary hearing, she’d gobbled Xanax like Emerie’s dog devoured any food left unattended. She’d even tried going to church a few times, though the looming figures on the altar felt like they grew bigger and bigger with each breath she dragged into her lungs, her florid prayers condensing into a desperate mantra of Please don’t do this, please don’t, please, please, please..

Those days were behind her, thankfully, though the scars still lingered, both within and without. Gwyn vaguely heard Cassian calling out his goodbyes, waved an idle hand over her shoulder in his general direction.

Things were looking up recently, the slow plod of time eroding the sharp crags of her memory. Since the hearing in May she’d had three blissful months of a deserted campus to get back into a routine, to start scraping together a sense of normalcy. But now the undergrads were back for the semester, as well as her.. well, she didn’t know what to call Him anymore.

Former advisor, erstwhile lover.

Executioner.

His face flashed in her mind, a pastiche of all the times he’d praised her, poured the balm of his attention over her neglected heart. The hard set of his jaw across the conference table, the drunken fury when he’d -

“Oh, what the fuck?” Nesta yelled at the TV, jolting Gwyn from where she’d paused in her typing mid-sentence. “You’re gonna propose and then talk shit about her behind her back? Men are trash.”

The show was garbage, ten thousand percent so, but as her mind slowed down from its frantic rememberings Gwyn could admit to herself that she needed this. Just as she needed Nesta’s arm to reach out then and wrap around her shoulders, encouraging her to sink further into the corner of the threadbare couch, snuggled once more under the giant blanket.

It was a testament to Nesta’s goodness that she hadn’t hesitated to invite Gwyn over when she called her this afternoon mid-panic attack, hadn’t made the slightest fuss when she could only choke out I saw Him before dropping the depositions she’d been reviewing and plunking her friend on the sofa.

“He’s growing out his beard again.”

It felt like a stab wound, knowing he was out there still, carrying on while she was a fucking wreck. Gwyn was despondent as she gave up and finally shut her laptop, setting it on the side table. It felt like every time she got her feet under her something would sweep them away, leaving her bruised once more.

“What an asshole.” Nesta’s scowl could stop a man’s heart. “At least it makes him look like the fucking groomer he is.”

All the breath had left her when Gwyn saw Him across the quad that morning - he’d been talking to a very young student, the tiny cherries on her sundress like drops of blood.

“I should transfer.”

“Fuck that. You deserve to be here. You deserve to finish your education.”

She didn’t protest, knowing arguing with Nesta was useless anyway. Instead she rested her head on Nesta’s shoulder, heard the hum of approval as her friend took another long drag, blowing out a dense cloud of smoke. Gwyn felt her phone vibrate and patted around on the cushions for a second before finding it.

Emerie: love you Winnie, i have my phone on for a client anyway so you’re not allowed to feel guilty for calling me

Catrin: Hey I have time this weekend if you want to facetime!! Noon my time/midnight yours?

Cassian: Gwynnie do you want food? Nes is demanding Thai, but we can drop it off if you need some space

Gwyn: No you’re fine, I don’t want to kick you out of your own house

Cassian: shut up

Cassian: Az said he wants to see you if that changes your mind

Cassian: 😏

Gwyn declined to respond to his last message, unsure what the hell to even say to that. The thought of a guy even looking at her was enough to make her skin crawl these days, but beneath it now there was a tiny thrill, a part of her that came back online. She puzzled over it through the next episode before Cassian burst through the front door once more, his crooning call accompanied by the rustle of plastic bags.

“Oh, love of my life!”

The wedding was a requirement to move in together, given Nesta’s family’s conservative leanings, and everyone looked at each other sideways when the two got married right after undergrad considering their litany of very public breakups and makeups. But Cassian and Nesta were the most solid couple she knew, and they both seemed to delight in collecting waywards souls and stuffing them full of food and aggressive affirmations.

That truth was evidenced by the mountain of sweets Cassian poured out onto the couch from a CVS bag, the mile-long receipt fluttering to the floor. “We didn’t know what you’d want so we got everything,” he said before burying his face in Nesta’s neck. “I missed you.”

“You saw me forty-five minutes ago,” she groused despite her smug expression, and she allowed her husband to deliver her pad thai on one knee, cracking the plastic container open and revealing the noodles with all the flourish he would a diamond ring.

Azriel, for his part, had enough decency to look embarrassed by the whole thing, and Gwyn couldn’t help smiling at the way he rolled his eyes and sloped into the kitchen to grab a beer for himself and Cassian. He gave Gwyn a questioning look and she shook her head, tried to ignore the flush that threatened to stain her cheeks.

It hurt sometimes to see how in love her friends were.

She’d been in love with Him, at least she’d thought so at the time, though now she could only view the memories through the stain of the aftermath. He was married, and thirty years her senior, but he made her feel special, as pathetic as that made her sound in her own head. The world wouldn’t understand, he told her, and she’d believed him even as the guilt ripped at her, the sense that at its base what they were doing was deeply wrong.

She wished she could say her conscience caused her to break it off, but it had taken the threat of his wife discovering them to make her end things for good. She’d been unable to hide her heartbreak, and confessing the relationship to her friends was horrible. Gwyn expected them to blame her, to tell her she was asking for it. That she knew better than getting involved with a married man, that she was a homewrecker, a whore, the thousand slurs she hurled at herself every day.

But once the initial shock wore off, her friends’ sorrow surprised her, as did the rage they felt toward Him. Emerie, in her gentle but no-nonsense way, taught Gwyn a lot about abusive relationship cycles and coercive control, and she began to comb through the illusions he’d weaved through the cracks of her fragile sense of self.

But only after she’d untangled herself from Him did the worst of it happen. Now she could barely think his name without starting to tremble.

Too late she registered the people on TV were no longer making sound, the turn of eyes toward her. Gwyn didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt Nesta’s hand tightening around her own.

“Oh honey. Oh, it’s okay, come here.”

She felt Nesta’s arms wrap around her shoulders, her now-heaving breaths shaking them both.

“I’m sorry.’ The shame lay thickly on top of her, paralyzing. Nesta only squeezed tighter, trying to ground her.

“Shut the hell up, I love you. You’re allowed to feel like this.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Cassian shift slowly, picking up her water bottle and setting it beside her. Gwyn clutched the handle like it was a life raft.

“I just don’t think I can stay here much longer,” she choked through her tears, mortified that the mess was showing on the outside. “I can’t keep getting knocked over every time I see Him.”

Azriel’s fist clenched against the sofa arm but he was otherwise still, an unreadable expression on his face. Then his eyebrows softened and Gwyn heard the rush of her own blood in her ears, the fear pounding.

“I’m so tired,” she blurted out, unable to contain it. Everyone kept silent, letting the tide flow out of her. “I’m on edge all the time, I can’t concentrate. Merrill is breathing down my fucking neck. And it’s clear he isn’t going to leave, so if I want any peace of mind I have to leave myself.”

“You know what’s best for you better than anyone else,” Azriel said quietly. “But I also think you’re trying hard not to take the help that would be happily given to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You say you’re tired. So let the people who love you take some of the weight.”

Nesta made a noise of agreement, and Gwyn turned to her, taken aback.

“You agree with him?”

Nesta shrugged and brushed Gwyn’s hair back from her face, reached around her to pluck a tissue from the box on the end table, a remnant of her last breakdown. “I mean, you always act like the things I do for you are such an inconvenience for me. They’re not. I’d do literally anything for you.”

“Why?”

“Because you deserve it.” Cassian’s stare was even from where he was sprawled on the floor, and even as the guilt twisted in her stomach Gwyn felt the truth of it, of the way they were all holding her up.

“What would it even look like?” They’d been so constant, and she promised herself to consider the help for their sakes, even though she knew she’d never accept.

Cassian shrugged. “However you want. You can move in here if you don’t want to live alone.”

“No, I’m not getting in your way like that.”

“I’ll move in with you, then.”

“Nesta, no.”

“I could escort you on campus if that would help,” Azriel offered.

Gwyn faltered, both from surprise at his willingness and because it actually sounded great. “I’ll be running my sleep study the next few weeks, my hours are too weird.”

“Az is pretty much nocturnal, he’s perfect for the job.” Cassian reached up and ruffled his friend’s hair, leaving Azriel looking like a disheveled crow. He scowled but turned back to Gwyn, his deep voice sincere.

“If it’s because you’re uncomfortable with it, that’s fine.”

“But if you’re saying no because you’re stubborn,” Nesta added. “Then you’re outnumbered here, babe.”

Cassian began a chant of One of us, banging his hands on the coffee table, and Gwyn laughed in spite of herself, tears still leaking. “I don’t want to be handled like I’m something fragile.”

“No, no.” He paused his banging and looked thoughtful, considering. “Think of us like the Secret Service. We got your back so you can focus on saving the world.”

“I think I should talk with Amelia about this.” Her therapist was good at giving it to her straight while still empowering her to trust her instincts.

“Okay, I’m gonna hold you to that,” Nesta said sternly before wrapping Gwyn up again. “Lovingly, tenderly hold you.”

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.”

“Because you do too much for other people to carry this shit alone. Because there are people in the world who want nothing more than to bring you Belgian chocolates,” Nesta said, picking up a box from the pile on the sofa and waving it in front of her face. Azriel’s eyes darted toward the carpet. “Don’t let one fucking horrid asshole man take that from you. Now are you going to help me verbally abuse these trash bags or not?”

Gwyn laughed again, the knot in her throat easing as Nesta unmuted the TV and the others settled back into their places, the bounce of conversation returning once more.

“What’s wrong with this lady? What does she have?”

“I can’t diagnose anybody,” Gwyn said offhandedly, the answer rote as she dug through the chocolates. “Sorry, I’m overwhelmed by choice at the moment.” She puzzled over the map on the inside of the box lid, the whirl of vague descriptors about the chocolates’ depth, the passion of their creation. “I don’t think I can start with one of the ‘intense’ ones, they’re too intimidating. Like, intense compared to what? How do I prepare for that?”

Cassian tipped his head back and laughed. “See, if you were gone, who else would say shit like that? You make the world better, Gwynnie.”

And damn it if Gwyn didn’t feel herself begin to unspool as they watched, the idle commentary warming her through. Eventually a very stoned Nesta started using her experience in divorce settlements to determine which couples were the real deal and which were goners, and apparently the overall odds were grim.

“No, see, they disagree about lifestyle priorities. They’re fucked.”

“How can you tell?” Azriel frowned, and Gwyn couldn’t help watching the shift of his long legs, clad in black jeans despite the August heat.

“Look at the way he’s dismissing her. He’s gonna be like ‘oh I’ll convince her I’m right, she’ll agree with me eventually’.”

The contestant in question appeared in a confessional and said the same thing Nesta predicted, nearly verbatim. Cassian shuddered.

“That’s spooky. You terrify me.”

“Good.”

Gwyn smiled as Nesta grabbed Cassian’s neck playfully from behind, putting him in a headlock. She glanced at the sun setting beyond the balcony, orange streaking the sky. “I feel like we are going to see him eat those words. AND I’m going to check that all the doors are locked because it will make me feel better.”

Weeks ago after a similar meltdown, Gwyn had promised her friends to be more unapologetic about the things she needed to do to feel safe since the assault. Eventually she’d learn to let the security blankets go, but she needed them right now and that was okay.

So it was with a feeling of lightness that she popped up from the sofa, that she heard Cassian say, “Yes queen,” through a mouthful of drunken noodles at the same time Nesta assured her, “Do whatever you need to, babe.”

It wasn’t always simple and it was difficult not to let the hard days win, but her friends had been awesome. Including, surprisingly, the brooding guy settled back into the far corner of the couch.

Azriel.

What the hell was she going to do about him? She’d only known him as Cassian’s friend before her world explored, was shocked a few days after when he visited her in the hospital. He’d brought her socks, saying he knew hospitals could be cold. It was sweet, and she’d held the memory close in those dark days that followed, a small spark in the blackness.

She locked the back door, rotating the handle twice. She did the same to the front door, and was halfway down the basement stairs when Azriel started up, meeting her on the landing in the middle.

“I got the sliding door,” he said.

Gwyn flushed with anxiety, felt her eyes burn with inevitable tears. “I need to check myself.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

She brushed past him and checked the door, made sure the bar was down and the pin in place. Rattled it twice. Azriel was hovering at the bottom of the stairs when she turned, hunched like he wanted to make his lanky frame smaller. She swallowed as she started to cry, trying to keep down her shame at her body’s natural reaction.

It was normal. She was okay.

“I’m not crying because I’m upset. I’m crying because you wanted to help me and that’s just really nice of you.”

“Gwyn, I-”

“Thank you. It really means a lot to me.”

His skin was cool when she laid her hand over the tattoo on his forearm, the swirl of geometric shapes wrapped around it. Sacred geometry, he’d told her once, the ‘tree of life’. Before her now he stayed deathly still, as if not wanting to startle her, though his shadowed eyes didn’t stray from her face.

“Look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But.” He seemed to think hard on his words. “I care. About you.”

He placed a hand over hers, and for the first time in forever Gwyn didn’t feel tired to the center of her bones, didn’t feel like a damaged, fucked up cast-off too weak to survive in the world. She felt like just a girl, standing in front of a boy, trying to remember how to breathe because he was really, really unfortunately good-looking.

“Did you mean to abandon us up here?”

Cassian’s voice resonated from the living room, making Gwyn jump, her gaze snapping toward the stairs before Nesta said, “That’s so rude, you know we both have abandonment issues.”

She heard Cassian’s booming laugh and turned back to Azriel, who looked chagrined and yet nervous somehow, like his face couldn’t decide how much it wanted to show. She wiggled her toes against the concrete, grounding herself with the fuzzy fabric of her socks, the first thing that ever helped.

“I was just saving Azriel from a robber,” she called up the stairs. “Poor thing, I think he needs an escort on campus at night.”

She felt some of her old self resurface as she smiled at him then, at the way he’d half-frozen in surprise before his mouth curled into a lazy smirk.

“Guess I’ll be seeing more of you, Berdara.”

#gwyneth berdara #gwynweekofficial #gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #pro gwynriel #nesta archeron #cassian #modern!gwynriel

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starphasedd · 2 years ago

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Unmade

2 - The Encounter

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Rating: 18+ for violence, explicit language, and smut.

Synopsis: "After a week alone on an unknown jungle planet, the Mandalorian returns to you from his hunt, but he isn't well."

Word count: 4k +

Chapter 1 | AO3 | Next chapter - coming soon

9Aby - Unknown jungle planet - Present

You stopped asking a while back.

Today it was " unknown jungle planet, pretty rainy. It smells fresh, like summer morning dew drops."

You were writing notes in your datapad. You never had the chance to travel, so you wanted to keep a diary of sorts . You did it for every planet you visited.

"Not a soul in sight. Lots of bugs though. The kid likes eating them."

No sun breaks through the dark storm clouds above. It's the middle of the day, but it's dark as if it were night. A cool breeze passes through the inside of the Crest as you sit atop of the gangplank, just out of reach of the rain.

"Tall, thick pine-trees circle the ship, providing plenty of privacy. Hides us from any wandering enemies. Thick fog rolls in and out at times too."

The baby sits next to you on the cold durasteel, watching you type on your data pad. He coos softly, his head tilting as he studies the motions of your fingers. You glance down at him through your peripherals and smile.

"Mando's been gone for almost a week. Hoping he returns soon. Tired of the rain; ready for a new backdrop. Something sunny and bright."

Mando was hunting a well known smuggler who was last seen heading towards this planet. You couldn't blame the guy, if you were honest. This planet consists of nothing but dense wooded areas; all kinds of places for him to hideout until whoever was after him gave up.

That week, you spent a lot of time playing with the kid. He was pretty entertaining. He got into everything . Which was trouble. The little wamp rat was constantly trying to run out past the campsite and into the trees. Even after Mando gave explicit instructions not to leave the ship. But you couldn't stay cooped up there all week. Had he come back a little sooner, maybe. But he's been gone for six days . Could he honestly expect you and the little bundle of energy to stay on the ship ?

Shoot first and ask for forgiveness later.

It didn't rain the entire time you were there, thankfully. Earlier in the week, the two of you ventured out a little past the ship to see if you could find anything to snack on. Mushrooms, or berries. Maybe even some new spices you could take back to the ship. There was pre-made food on the ship. But you'd been eating those ration packs for months. You were dying to taste something new. Something fresh .

It turned out to be no luck for you, unfortunately. However, the baby did find a nest of indigenous bugs. He enjoyed those thoroughly. The little terrorist ripped through the nest like he hadn't eaten anything in a solar cycle. You can remember the distinct crunch , and then the sound of their gooey insides being chomped around in his mouth. Not one of your favorite moments with the kid.

It took you a few months to get used to him and his little quirks. He was well behaved for the most part. He was quiet and respectful. He didn't really make messes. If he did, he never complained when you instructed him to pick them up. He did have his moments though. It usually involved what he considered 'tasty food'. You'd say that was his biggest quirk. He wouldn't eat anything normal if you weren't there to make him; to ensure he got proper nutrients as any growing boy should.

Sometimes he would fight you on the regular food–the ration packs. He hated the goopy consistency of them. You did too, for that matter. You wondered how Mando survived on them all of these years. But, that's what he provided. And you weren't disrespectful. You took what he gave you with a smile.

Once you had enough credits saved up, you wanted to treat him and the baby to a nice, real dinner. Something that a red blooded man like Mando could use. Protein and carbohydrates. Maybe even some wine.

You'd make a note to ask him that.

"Does the Mandalorian drink wine?"

Something to thank him for his generosity and hospitality. Taking you on his ship. Giving you a job; an easy one . Saving you from that spice addict all those months ago…

You think back on that night often. Sometimes it keeps you awake in the darkness of the Crest's haul. You think about how his deep, modulated voice rang through the durasteel halls of your shop. You think about how he didn't hesitate to step in once he saw you were in immediate danger. You think about how… big he looked in his armor; how wide and bulky he was. His arms burst from under the Beskar pauldrons. You think about how gentle and soft he was once he secured your safety, immediately coming to your aid to check on you.

All for a woman he had never met before?? Just a lowly mechanic in a rundown shop on Tatooine. Dirty and covered in grease. Sweaty from a hot summer day. Probably smelly.

He didn't seem like an overly friendly person. He kept to himself. He was quiet and only spoke to you when absolutely necessary. Sometimes it's like you weren't even there.

You were still enamored by him, though.

Your thoughts weren't always pure, either. It concerns you how often you find your brain falling down a slippery slope to a sexual fantasy of your employer. It was easy to get rid of them in the beginning. You would simply start thinking of something else, something to distract you. It quickly became more difficult the more time you spent with him in this tight space.

You often wondered how he fucked. Does he even fuck ? Is he celibate? Is celibacy part of Mandalorian culture? Had he ever fucked before? Would he fuck you slow or fast? Would he fuck you hard or would he be gentle with you, like he was at your shop?

Your legs are crossed, thighs pressing together before you even realize what's going on. A fire in your core begins to burn like the Tatooine suns, threatening to shoot you into a dark state of arousal. A tension you could probably never resolve.

At that point, you don't realize your fingers are moving across the datapad…

"How big is he…."

You're almost in a trance, cheeks heated and red as your fingers move without supervision. You snap out of it when the baby coos next to you. You glance down at him, his big brown eyes watching you in wonderment. He cocks his head to the side as if he's curious and you clear your throat, also trying to clear your mind of the inappropriate thoughts you were having.

In the flustered process, you didn't even read what you had subconsciously written down; setting the data pad down next to you and picking the child up. Rain still patters softly on the crest, the wind blowing the tall trees circling around you.

The smell of the rain reminds you of him.

He was very clean. It was surprising to see a man shower so frequently. The men you encountered in life were never really conscious of their body odor. Mando was the opposite. He always smelled so good ; fresh like summer rain. Even coming back to the ship after a long, tiring, and perilous hunt, he still always smelled faintly like his soap, mixed with fresh dirt and plasma burn from his blaster. It was enamoring.

You could almost smell it now as you sat atop the gangplank of the Crest. It was a distinct smell of his that stuck with you. It was his husky smell, mixed with cool air and rain water. Small droplets bounce off the durasteel shell of the Crest as you sit silently next to the baby. And you’re shocked when you see trees rustling in the distance.

There’s a plasma gun in your pocket and your hand drops to hold it tightly–just in case. But a warm chill runs through your body and you exhale a sigh of relief when Mando emerges from the gloom of the forest.

He looks weathered and tired.

You squint and wonder why he’s moving so slow, but then you see the body he’s dragging behind him. This bounty was massive .

Stars , how could he transport that thing all by himself?

You stand on the gangplank to greet him, grabbing the baby and holding him against your chest. Once he gets a little closer, you can see why he’s struggling a little more than usual with this bounty. Apart from its massive girth. Mando is limping. And his flight suit looks torn to shreds. Maker, this one really put up a fight didn't he?

As he approaches, you quickly turn and rush to the baby’s pram, setting him inside and shutting the top for now. Once the baby is secure in his bed, you head back down the plank to assist Mando. He trudges up the ramp slowly, stopping half way and you swear you see him wobble a few times. When you approach, you rest your hands on his left shoulder to help stabilize him. He stops dead in his tracks and looks down at you. His hands are still holding onto the bounty tightly.

You pause, hoping you didn’t insult him by touching his shoulder. His chest rises slowly, but he’s taking much bigger breaths than any normal man should. Had he been shot as well? He watches you intently through the T-visor for a few moments, as if he’s collecting his thoughts.

You’re out from under the protection of the Crest’s haul now, rain pouring over your head and soaking your body. You look up at him through wet lashes. You mouth “what??”, as the sound of the rain now pouring down drowns your voice out.

He’s still just standing there, staring at you.

At this point, you’re getting irritated. Now soaked and just standing in the pouring rain. You shove him forward, and that’s when he seems to snap out of his stupor. He stumbles into the Crest, throwing the lifeless bounty near the carbonite chambers. You step inside and immediately close the gangplank after him. When you turn around, he’s standing still with his back facing you.

You can see he has multiple deep cuts, and he’s visibly exhausted. Almost makes you feel bad for getting irritated with him.

You slowly start to approach him from behind, but then he whips around like he could see you coming. He’s still breathing heavy, his chest rising high and falling low with his deep breaths. His head hangs low, but the T-visor is still trained on you. His fists are opening and closing at his sides.

You stand there for a moment with caution. Something is wrong.

“You okay…?” You ask.

He stands there, staring at you for a few more moments before he turns silently and starts walking towards the fresher in the back of the ship. You watch him, utterly befuddled by this odd behavior. Really, it’s not like he ever speaks to you. You have yourself convinced that he doesn't even remember you exist half the time. He’ll cross paths with you on the ship like you’re a ghost floating in thin air.

He normally retreats and treats his own wounds when he does come back injured, but this is different.

The way he looked at you. How he stopped in his tracks when you touched him. How you felt his muscles tense at the gentle contact. His heavy breathing and his hands twitching at his sides. You noticed all of it. Something about it seemed…primal.

Primal and undisciplined.

Your mouth hangs agape as you watch the fresher door slide shut. For a few moments, you try to gather your thoughts. Such odd behavior.

After gathering yourself and your thoughts for a couple more moments, you step forward and begin heading up to the cockpit. Once there, you sit in the pilot's chair and listen to the soft pattering of the rain dropping against the Crest. It’s dark in here, no sunlight shining through as storm clouds continue to cover the sky on the wretched planet.

You sit back in the leather seat, letting your head rest against it.

You rest your eyes for a few moments. A few moments turns into an hour when you accidentally fall asleep.

When you wake up, it’s still raining and dark. You look around, Mando still isn't here. taking another deep breath before you open them again and will yourself to climb out of the pilot’s seat. You slowly make your way down the ladder from the cockpit, to the fresher door. Normally when Mando is in the shower, you can see a thick fog seeping from underneath the door–he takes hot showers. Right now, you don’t spot any fog. You don't hear any noise.

You gently rest your ear against the door to see if you can hear anything, but you don’t hear a peep. Now your heart is starting to race. He’s normally done by now. He washes up quickly–even if he is wounded. He dresses his wounds at lightspeed.

After listening for a few moments longer, you still don’t hear anything.

Out of slight panic, your hand comes up without even realizing it and knocks on the fresher door. Just once.

You listen. No answer.

Two more knocks.

No answer.

"Mando?” You ask loudly enough for him to hear you.

You hold your breath for a moment so you don’t miss anything.

“Are you okay?” You warn, voice wavering.

Still no answer, but you do hear a faint groan. It’s very faint–like he didn’t intend for you to hear it at all.

“If you don’t answer I’m coming–.” You start to warn, but you’re cut off when the door to the fresher busts open. A violent wash of air hits you in the face, sending all of your hair falling to your back.

Mando stands before you, breathing heavily than he was earlier. He leans on one side of the doorway while his hand rests on the fresher door where he forced it open. He grunts and shoves past you like you aren't even there. You turn to watch him limp over to a cabinet that’s built into the haul of the Crest. His gloved fingers tangle around the handle but he struggles to open it. He now has one hand on his side, holding a fresh wound.

Maker, why is he so fucking stubborn?

You approach him from behind, careful not to get too close in this state. It’s almost like he can sense you’re getting close because he stops what he’s doing and shuffles away from you again. That hurts a little.

“Let me help,” You say sweetly, trying to bring him comfort.

He groans audibly through his helmet. His breaths are shaky and gravely.

“Go away.” He finally speaks.

“You need help.” You say, getting a little closer to him again. This time he doesn’t move as much.

“Y’--can’t help.” He mumbles, still clutching his side. He starts to slump over against the wall. The beskar clunks when it hits the cold durasteel.

Slowly and very carefully, you approach him and gently lay your hand on his shoulder. A shockwave of chills run down his body and he lets out another hoarse groan.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You say, bringing your other hand to lay over his shoulder. Both hands now softly against his body.

He huffs through the vocoder, slowly turning his helmet towards you. It drags on the wall as he does so.

“Aphrodisiac…” He mumbles, it's barely audible, and he isn't enunciating very well right now.

You lean a bit closer to hear better. “What?”

He grunts out of frustration, his hand balling into a fist on the wall as you inch closer to him. His muscles tense and he lets out another shaky breath.

“B-bounty hit me wit-with a…..”

It’s at that moment you finally realize what’s been going on. Your cheeks flush a bright pink and your eyes open a little wider than they were before. That’s why he couldn’t stop staring at you when you touched him.

An aphrodisiac is a drug that stimulates sexual desire–makes all forms of decency and pleasantries go out the window. It scratches a primal desire deep within, and cannot be flushed out of the system without release. It stimulates the senses–which explains why he was so sensitive when you touched him just now.

You keep your hands on his shoulder, watching him as you contemplate your next move. Should you offer to help him? What would he think? Would he turn you down? Fire you for making advances on him ? Your breath is caught in your throat and your heart is now racing. Your mouth is going dry, your lips starting to chap as you think of your next move. He hasn't said anything in a moment. He’s still leaning up against the wall, his helmet resting on the cold durasteel. For a moment you think it may just stay this way, but then he speaks.

He turns his helmet a little towards you again. “Y-’need t-to leave…the s-ship..” He mumbles.

You lock eyes on his t-visor again. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

You watch as his hand leaves the wall and comes back to grab yours. His cold leather glove feels like ice when it wraps around your much smaller and delicate digits. He grabs you hard, and pulls your hands away from his shoulder. When he releases your hands, that same gloved hand that just grabbed you flies up and flattens against your chest, shoving you back against the cold wall. His palm butterflies against your skin, covering your entire chest.

You grunt at the harsh impact, your lower back immediately arching off the wall, coming closer to his waist.

“Leave. Now .” He hisses. One hand remains butterflied on your chest while the other holds him off the wall above your head, boxing you in.

Your face is still bright pink, and now your breathing is a little elevated. Your lips part to speak, but when he shifts on his feet you glance down and see how painfully hard he is under his trousers. The sight of him like this sends an erotic chill down your spine. Your mouth is hanging open again, soft breaths sneaking through your teeth. He doesn't say anything, just stands above you–his chest puffing up and down in a rhythmic fashion as he tries to control his primal urges.

Your lashes flutter as you look back up into his T-visor. You want to offer him a resolution. You want to offer him release . But you’re nervous he may shoot you down. His body radiates like a furnace above you, making yours burn in return.

“ I can help you .” Your voice is just above a whisper, eyes shooting back and forth rapidly as you try to catch his eyes through the tinted visor of his helmet.

He remains in front of you, his chest heaving up and down like a medieval mammal getting ready to attack its prey. His fingers twitch on the wall next to your head. It’s almost scary how still he is as he stands over you.

When he doesn’t respond, you slowly reach both hands to rest them on his stomach. Once your palms are flattened on his toned stomach, you slowly begin to snake them around his armored sides–with much caution of course. You keep your eyes on his helmet to gauge his reaction as you proceed slowly. Your fingers grip the taut fabric of his flight suit gently, and you slowly start to pull him towards you.

He doesn’t pull back.

With your hands now on his waist, you’re pulling his clothed erection towards your front. Without warning, he removes his hand from your chest and flattens it up against the wall next to your head. He’s leaning in now–going with you. When you get his waist close enough to yours, you take the initiative to lift one of your legs up, helping to fit him in nicely between your thighs, while letting one of your feet remain on the floor to keep you steady. Now he’s hot and hard against your clothed core. He burns like the Tatooine suns combined, bringing more friction to your core as he slowly presses himself against you.

He groans loudly this time, his gloved fingers digging into the durasteel wall behind you.

Your hands continue to grip his waist and pull him as close to you as possible. And soon, he starts letting his upper body fall against you as well. He’s so much bigger this close up. He towers over you, leaning most of his weight on you now. He doesn’t let his helmet fall this time though.

No.

He wants to watch your reaction as he starts to thrust against your clothed core.

His hips roll in deep harsh thrusts, forcing your entire body back and up the wall as he starts to really man-handle you.

He leans into you harder, letting his right arm drop so he can grab ahold of the pillowy flesh of your hip and hold your leg up steady against his waist. He spreads you a little too while doing so. He holds you there, pushing into you harder and faster by the second.

Something hot and heavy is starting to burn inside you. He thrusts his hips into yours, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed core without shame. You never thought it could feel this good when there wasn’t skin-to-skin involved but maker does he know what he is doing. Does he know what he's doing or is this just pure, blind, lust taking over his body?

This has to be a fever dream or something because holy fuck . There’s no way the Mandalorian–big, mean and unwavering–is dry humping you right now. The most feared bounty hunter in all the galaxies is holding you up against a wall, panting in your ear like a rancor in heat, and rubbing his hard cock against you.

Your body jolts up and down against his, your back still firm against the cold wall. He grunts as his thrusts become more quick and needy. He lets his helmet drop to lay in the nape of your neck. A bead of sweat rolls from your forehead and drops onto the cold beskar of his helmet. He pants loudly into your skin as he continues fucking you over your clothes. One of his hands remains on your hip, the other one moves to snake behind your head so you can rest it. You let out a whimper when he thrusts on you particularly hard–his hard cock pressing against your sensitive clothed clit.

“S-smell so good…” He mumbles into your neck.

You glide your hands up his body, letting one hand slide up the back of his neck to massage the base of his skull. He mmm’s low in his throat, nuzzling further into your soft skin as he continues to dry hump you.

“S’soft….fuck, you’re s-so soft sweet girl…..” He speaks.

You smile softly, resting your cheek against the cold beskar helmet as his thrusts start to become sloppy. You whimper when he hits that sweet spot again, putting friction on your swollen clit.

When you moan, he starts thrusting faster. His grip tightens on your thigh, and he pulls your body closer to his. He’s sloppy now, hinting at his upcoming release.

"Y-you close? m’--y-you gonna cum?” He asks–and fuck . You wish you were.

It’s too much though. This all came on so fast that you can’t really focus and enjoy what he’s doing to you. No, it’s more difficult than that. You’re too focused on other things like the feeling of his helmet resting on your shoulder. Or the sounds he’s making of which you never ever thought you’d hear. Or the way he’s talking. The way squeezing your hip so hard that you know it’ll be bruised tomorrow. It feels so fucking good –but you don’t know if you can cum for him just yet. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Yeah..” You whimper softly as he thrusts up against you.

You grip him a bit harder, letting him get as close as possible to reach his release. When he does, it’s magnificent. His first behind you smashes into the haul with force and he groans something in a foreign language. His body shutters violently and you feel the warmth spreading in his trousers. The hand wrapped around your hip slowly starts to lose tension, and eventually falls from you. Your leg falls limp with it, your foot slamming against the floor.

He huffs heavy breaths against your neck, still leaning against you. You breathe heavily with him, letting your head fall back against the wall.

After a few moments you notice his heavy breathing has stopped.

“Mando?” You ask through a whisper.

He doesn’t answer. You soon know why, because a few moments later you realize his body is getting heavier and heavier. He starts to fall, completely knocked out as he lays against you. You curse as he starts to slide and you have no choice but to go with him. His beskar armor clunks heavily on the floor.

You sit up and look down at him after you finally manage to wiggle from underneath him.

How the fuck are you supposed to get him into his cot now?

---

Chapter theme: Lavender Haze - Taylor Swift

@orcasoul @dins-riduur-anthe @drawingdroid

#din djarin x you #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin x female reader #smut

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creamsicle-art · 9 months ago

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Game Development in Raylib - Week 1

Recently I've been getting into retro game development. I don't mean pixel art and PSX style game development, those are nice but they don't quite scratch the itch. I'm talking about developing games with retro tools. Because of this, I decided to give Raylib a try.

For those of you who don't know, Raylib is a C framework targeted at game developers. Unlike Godot, which I used for my previous project Ravager, Raylib is not a game engine, it doesn't offer physics, scene management, or any kind of graphics more complicated than drawing textures to the screen. Almost everything that makes a game a game, is something you have to do yourself. This makes it ideal to scratch that "retro" itch I've been feeling, where everything has to be made on my own, and a finalized game is a fine tuned engine entirely of my own creation. Raylib offers bindings for almost any language you can think of, but I decided to use it's native C.

Setting the Scene

Since Raylib is so barebones, there's no concept of how the game should be built, so the first thing I had to do was define my engine architecture. For this initial outing, I decided to build a simple Scene+Actor system, wherein at any given time the game has one Scene loaded, which contains multiple Actors. I settled on this mainly because it was simple, and my experience with the C language was very limited.

Since Raylib didn't have any concept of a Scene, naturally it had no way to build them. While I could just hardcode all the entities and graphics in a scene, that would be unmanageable for even a basic game. Because of this I was forced to invent my own way to load scenes from asset files. This gave me the opportunity to do one of my favorite things in programming, defining my very own binary file type. I won't get into it too much right here and right now, but in this format, I can define a scene as a collection of entities, each of which can be passed their very own long string of bytes to decode into some initial data.

The main drawback of using binary files instead of a plaintext format is that I can't write the level files by hand. This meant that I had to write my own level editor to go along with my custom engine. Funnily enough, this brought me right back to Godot. The Godot engine offers some pretty powerful tools for writing binary files, and it's editor interface automatically offers everything I need in the way of building levels. It's sort of ironic that my quest to get away from modern engines lead me to building yet another tool in Godot, but it sure as hell beats building a level editor in C, so I don't really mind all that much.

Getting Physical

After getting scene management out of the way, I moved on to the physics system. My end goal here is making a simple platforming game, so I wanted a simple yet robust system that allows me to have dynamic-static physics that allows for smooth sliding along surfaces, and dynamic-dynamic collisions for things like hitboxes. For the sake of simplicity (which seems like it's going to become my catchphrase here) I decided to limit physics to axis aligned rectangles. Ultimately I settled on a system where entities can register a collision box with the physics system and assign it to some given layers (represented by bit flags). Then entities can use their collision box to query the physics system about either a static overlap, or the result of sweeping a box through space.

Raylib offers built in methods for testing rectangle overlap, so I didn't have to worry much about overlap queries, but the rectangle sweeping method is something a little more special. The full algorithm honestly deserves it's own post, but I'll give the basics here. The core of the algorithm is a function that determines where along a movement a given rectangle touches another rectangle, and that edges of the rectangles touched. It makes use of the separating axis theorem to determine when the shapes will start and stop intersecting along each collision axis. If the last intersection happens before any have ended, then the shapes do collide, the axis they collide on is that final axis, and the time of collision is the time of the final intersection. Looking back I could easily extend this algorithm to any arbitrary shape, but that's for next time I do this.

Going Forwards

My plan for this game is to build a minimal metroidvania style game. The target playtime is probably going to only be around 30-45 minutes. In the following week I plan on building out my Godot level editor, and working out a system for scene transitions and managing sound effects. I hope to by done by the end of November.

#game dev #indie dev #devlog #raylib #c programming

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gallows-polls · 8 months ago

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EDGAR HAMILTON (1841-1926) TO CYRUS WOODMAN. (1814-1889)

Deckertown, N. J., April 1st, 1880.

Mr. Cyrus Woodman, Cambridge, Mass.

Dear Sir:

Some time since I had half a dozen photos of my great uncle William Stephen Hamilton struck off from a copy given me by Mr. Philip Hamilton, the youngest son of Alexander Hamilton. The features are not so distinctly cut as if taken from the original ivory-type by Rogers, of N. Y., which is now in possession of Mr. Philip Hamilton of Poughkeepsie, N. Y.

I have the companion likeness of Mrs. Holly, his favorite sister. This my mother received from Mrs. Schultz about 1850, and rather confirms the report that his papers were left with her. My mother remembers his law books, which she claims were received from his father. Voltaire and books in French were also received from his father whose library was largely. in French literature and languages.

Many of those books are still kept in possession of Mrs. Alexander Hamilton of New York. It was my purpose to transmit to Mr. Stephenson and Mr. Baldwin" (if I could discover his residence), a photograph each and also to Mr. S. one of Mrs. Holly, with whom he was acquainted.

If you will kindly transmit them I should be pleased to forward the extra copies I have in my possession to you. The two surviving brothers of Colonel Hamilton- Mr. John C. Hamilton of N. Y. and Mr. Philip Hamilton of Poughkeep-sie, N. Y.-may have papers in their possession and a knowledge of their brother William, which would be helpful for data, but I am informed that they have felt and do feel sensitive over the newspaper items reflecting upon them in connection with the monument. Some persons have been unnecessarily officious in sending them the different newspaper notices.

I have written to Mr. Philip Hamilton assuring him fully of the delicacy and kindness of your action in the whole matter, and in conversation with other members of the family have exonerated you from the newspaper notoriety incident to your work. The neglect of the family here grew out of the then great distance and difficulty of carrying out any plans, and the long separation which had run through quite all the years of his manhood preceding his death. This failure, however, only makes more beautiful your friendly act.

Yours gratefully,

EDGAR A. HAMILTON.

Source: Alexander Hamilton’s Pioneer Son: The Life and Times of Colonel William Stephen Hamilton.

#hamilton #edgar hamilton #cyrus woodman #alexander hamilton #hamilton’s grandchildren #william s. hamilton

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sarkariresultdude · 2 hours ago

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"Minimum Qualification and Age Limit for SSC CHSL Exam 2025"

The Combined Higher Secondary Level (CHSL) Examination is one of the most sought-after aggressive exams in India performed by the Staff Selection Commission (SSC). It opens up possibilities for 12th-skip candidates to steady government jobs in diverse ministries, departments, and corporations of the Government of India.

Combined higher secondary level eligibility

With lakhs of candidates making use of each year, the SSC CHSL examination offers prestigious roles like Lower Division Clerk (LDC), Data Entry Operator (DEO), Postal Assistant/Sorting Assistant (PA/SA), and Court Clerk.

1. Overview of SSC CHSL

Tier I: Computer-Based Objective Test

Tier II: Descriptive Paper (Pen and Paper mode)

Tier III: Typing/Skill Test (Qualifying nature)

This exam is designed to check trendy flair, reasoning, language talent, and simple writing and pc talents.

2. Posts Offered Through CHSL

Lower Division Clerk (LDC)/Junior Secretariat Assistant (JSA)

Postal Assistant (PA)/Sorting Assistant (SA)

Data Entry Operator (DEO)

Data Entry Operator, Grade ‘A’

Court Clerk (in some cycles)

Each post comes with a decent pay scale, profession boom possibilities, and task protection, making CHSL a appropriate exam for aspirants seeking early employment after better secondary education.

Three. Eligibility Criteria

a. Nationality

Citizen of India, or

Subject of Nepal/Bhutan, or

Tibetan refugee (before January 1, 1962), or

Person of Indian foundation migrated from pick nations (e.G., Pakistan, Sri Lanka) intending permanent agreement in India.

B. Educational Qualification

Must have passed twelfth Standard or equivalent examination from a diagnosed board or university.

twelfth Standard in Science movement with Mathematics as a subject.

C. Age Limit

Minimum Age: 18 years

Maximum Age: 27 years

Age Relaxation:

SC/ST – 5 years

OBC – three years

PwD – 10 to fifteen years (relying on category)

Ex-Servicemen – 3 years (after deduction of army service)

four. Exam Pattern

Tier I: Computer-Based Test

Subject No. Of Questions Maximum Marks Duration

General Intelligence 25 50

English Language 25 50

Quantitative Aptitude 25 50

General Awareness 25 50 60 minutes

Negative Marking: 0.50 marks for every wrong solution.

Tier II: Descriptive Paper

Mode: Pen and Paper

Duration: 1 hour

Maximum Marks: one hundred

Format: Essay (two hundred-250 phrases) and Letter/Application (150-2 hundred words)

Language: English or Hindi

Tier III: Skill Test / Typing Test

For DEO: Data Entry Speed of 8000 key depressions/hour.

5. Syllabus

General Intelligence:

Analogies, Coding-Decoding, Series, Classification

Puzzle-solving, Matrix, Blood relations

Direction Sense, Logical Venn diagrams

English Language:

Reading Comprehension, Cloze Test

Spotting Errors, Sentence Improvement

Synonyms & Antonyms, Idioms, Vocabulary

Quantitative Aptitude:

Number System, Simplification

Ratio & Proportion, Profit & Loss

Algebra, Geometry, Trigonometry

Mensuration, Time & Work, Data Interpretation

General Awareness:

Current Affairs, History, Geography

Indian Polity, Economy, General Science

Static GK (Books, Awards, Sports)

6. Preparation Tips

a. Know the Syllabus & Pattern Thoroughly

Understanding the shape of each tier facilitates in prioritizing study time and resources.

B. Create a Timetable

Divide day by day time into sections—English, Reasoning, Quant, GK. Allocate time for revision and mocks.

C. Focus on Accuracy and Speed

Practicing with mock assessments facilitates reduce bad marking and boom pace, in particular for Tier I.

D. Improve Typing Skills

Regularly exercise typing in each English and Hindi if performing for typing-based totally roles.

E. Read Daily

Reading newspapers, present day affairs magazines, and on line updates boosts General Awareness and English vocabulary.

7. Career Growth & Pay Scale

Pay Level (Post-smart)

Post Pay Level Salary (Approx.)

LDC/JSA Level 2 ₹19,900 – ₹63,two hundred

PA/SA Level four ₹25,500 – ₹81,one hundred

DEO (Grade A) Level 4 ₹25,500 – ₹81,one hundred

DEO (C&AG) Level five ₹29,two hundred – ₹ninety two,three hundred

Perks and Allowances

DA (Dearness Allowance)

HRA (House Rent Allowance)

TA (Transport Allowance)

Medical centers, pension, paid leaves

eight. Advantages of SSC CHSL Jobs

Government Job Security

Early Entry Point after Class 12

Attractive Perks and Benefits

Opportunities for Internal Promotions

Fixed Working Hours

#Combined higher secondary level eligibility #12th after class students

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zooplekochi · 18 days ago

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Automate Simple Tasks Using Python: A Beginner’s Guide

In today's fast paced digital world, time is money. Whether you're a student, a professional, or a small business owner, repetitive tasks can eat up a large portion of your day. The good news? Many of these routine jobs can be automated, saving you time, effort, and even reducing the chance of human error.

Enter Python a powerful, beginner-friendly programming language that's perfect for task automation. With its clean syntax and massive ecosystem of libraries, Python empowers users to automate just about anything from renaming files and sending emails to scraping websites and organizing data.

If you're new to programming or looking for ways to boost your productivity, this guide will walk you through how to automate simple tasks using Python.

🌟 Why Choose Python for Automation?

Before we dive into practical applications, let’s understand why Python is such a popular choice for automation:

Easy to learn: Python has simple, readable syntax, making it ideal for beginners.

Wide range of libraries: Python has a rich ecosystem of libraries tailored for different tasks like file handling, web scraping, emailing, and more.

Platform-independent: Python works across Windows, Mac, and Linux.

Strong community support: From Stack Overflow to GitHub, you’ll never be short on help.

Now, let’s explore real-world examples of how you can use Python to automate everyday tasks.

🗂 1. Automating File and Folder Management

Organizing files manually can be tiresome, especially when dealing with large amounts of data. Python’s built-in os and shutil modules allow you to automate file operations like:

Renaming files in bulk

Moving files based on type or date

Deleting unwanted files

Example: Rename multiple files in a folder

import os folder_path = 'C:/Users/YourName/Documents/Reports' for count, filename in enumerate(os.listdir(folder_path)): dst = f"report_{str(count)}.pdf" src = os.path.join(folder_path, filename) dst = os.path.join(folder_path, dst) os.rename(src, dst)

This script renames every file in the folder with a sequential number.

📧 2. Sending Emails Automatically

Python can be used to send emails with the smtplib and email libraries. Whether it’s sending reminders, reports, or newsletters, automating this process can save you significant time.

Example: Sending a basic email

import smtplib from email.message import EmailMessage msg = EmailMessage() msg.set_content("Hello, this is an automated email from Python!") msg['Subject'] = 'Automation Test' msg['From'] = '[email protected]' msg['To'] = '[email protected]' with smtplib.SMTP_SSL('smtp.gmail.com', 465) as smtp: smtp.login('[email protected]', 'yourpassword') smtp.send_message(msg)

⚠️ Note: Always secure your credentials when writing scripts consider using environment variables or secret managers.

🌐 3. Web Scraping for Data Collection

Want to extract information from websites without copying and pasting manually? Python’s requests and BeautifulSoup libraries let you scrape content from web pages with ease.

Example: Scraping news headlines

import requests from bs4 import BeautifulSoup url = 'https://www.bbc.com/news' response = requests.get(url) soup = BeautifulSoup(response.text, 'html.parser') for headline in soup.find_all('h3'): print(headline.text)

This basic script extracts and prints the headlines from BBC News.

📅 4. Automating Excel Tasks

If you work with Excel sheets, you’ll love openpyxl and pandas two powerful libraries that allow you to automate:

Creating spreadsheets

Sorting data

Applying formulas

Generating reports

Example: Reading and filtering Excel data

import pandas as pd df = pd.read_excel('sales_data.xlsx') high_sales = df[df['Revenue'] > 10000] print(high_sales)

This script filters sales records with revenue above 10,000.

💻 5. Scheduling Tasks

You can schedule scripts to run at specific times using Python’s schedule or APScheduler libraries. This is great for automating daily reports, reminders, or file backups.

Example: Run a function every day at 9 AM

import schedule import time def job(): print("Running scheduled task...") schedule.every().day.at("09:00").do(job) while True: schedule.run_pending() time.sleep(1)

This loop checks every second if it’s time to run the task.

🧹 6. Cleaning and Formatting Data

Cleaning data manually in Excel or Google Sheets is time-consuming. Python’s pandas makes it easy to:

Remove duplicates

Fix formatting

Convert data types

Handle missing values

Example: Clean a dataset

df = pd.read_csv('data.csv') df.drop_duplicates(inplace=True) df['Name'] = df['Name'].str.title() df.fillna(0, inplace=True) df.to_csv('cleaned_data.csv', index=False)

💬 7. Automating WhatsApp Messages (for fun or alerts)

Yes, you can even send WhatsApp messages using Python! Libraries like pywhatkit make this possible.

Example: Send a WhatsApp message

import pywhatkit pywhatkit.sendwhatmsg("+911234567890", "Hello from Python!", 15, 0)

This sends a message at 3:00 PM. It’s great for sending alerts or reminders.

🛒 8. Automating E-Commerce Price Tracking

You can use web scraping and conditionals to track price changes of products on sites like Amazon or Flipkart.

Example: Track a product’s price

url = "https://www.amazon.in/dp/B09XYZ123" headers = {"User-Agent": "Mozilla/5.0"} page = requests.get(url, headers=headers) soup = BeautifulSoup(page.content, 'html.parser') price = soup.find('span', {'class': 'a-price-whole'}).text print(f"The current price is ₹{price}")

With a few tweaks, you can send yourself alerts when prices drop.

📚 Final Thoughts

Automation is no longer a luxury it’s a necessity. With Python, you don’t need to be a coding expert to start simplifying your life. From managing files and scraping websites to sending e-mails and scheduling tasks, the possibilities are vast.

As a beginner, start small. Pick one repetitive task and try automating it. With every script you write, your confidence and productivity will grow.

Conclusion

If you're serious about mastering automation with Python, Zoople Technologies offers comprehensive, beginner-friendly Python course in Kerala. Our hands-on training approach ensures you learn by doing with real-world projects that prepare you for today’s tech-driven careers.

#python #pythondevelopment #programming

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