#Solution Architecture Documentation

[goodoldbandit]

Data Unbound: Embracing NoSQL & NewSQL for the Real-Time Era.

Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo. skm.stayingalive.in Explore how NoSQL and NewSQL databases revolutionize data management by handling unstructured data, supporting distributed architectures, and enabling real-time analytics. In today’s digital-first landscape, businesses and institutions are under mounting pressure to process massive volumes of data with greater speed,…

[prototechsolutionsblog]

How to Choose the Perfect Outsourcing CAD Drafting for Your Architectural Project

In the dynamic world of architecture, precision and efficiency are paramount. With the growing complexity of projects and the need for meticulous detail, CAD (Computer-Aided Design) drafting has become a cornerstone of the architectural process. However, maintaining an in-house CAD drafting team can be costly and resource-intensive. This is where outsourcing CAD drafting services can offer significant advantages. This blog post will guide you through the essential steps to choose the perfect outsourcing partner for your architectural projects.

Understanding Your Needs

Before diving into the selection process, it's crucial to clearly understand your project’s requirements. Ask yourself the following questions:

Project Scope and Scale: What is the size and complexity of your project? Different firms specialize in various types of projects, from small residential designs to large commercial buildings.

Specific Services Required: Do you need 2D drafting, 3D modeling, rendering, or all of the above? Some firms offer comprehensive services, while others might focus on specific aspects.

Timeline and Deadlines: What are your project deadlines? Ensure that the outsourcing partner can deliver within your required timeframe.

By having a clear understanding of your needs, you can better evaluate potential outsourcing partners and ensure they can meet your expectations.

Researching Potential Firms

Once you have a clear idea of your requirements, the next step is to research potential CAD drafting firms. Here are some tips to conduct thorough research:

Online Reviews and Testimonials: Check reviews on platforms like Google, Yelp, and industry-specific forums. Testimonials on the firm’s website can also provide insights into their reliability and quality of work.

Portfolio Examination: A firm’s portfolio showcases its previous work and expertise. Look for projects similar to yours to gauge their capability.

Industry Experience: Firms with extensive experience in your industry are more likely to understand your specific needs and challenges.

 Evaluating Technical Expertise

Technical expertise is the backbone of CAD drafting services. Here are some factors to consider:

Software Proficiency: Ensure that the firm uses the latest versions of industry-standard software such as AutoCAD, Revit, SolidWorks, or ArchiCAD. Compatibility with your own software and file formats is crucial.

Skill Level of Drafters: Inquire about the qualifications and experience of the drafting team. Skilled drafters can significantly enhance the quality and accuracy of the work.

Quality Assurance Processes: Ask about the firm’s quality control measures. Reliable firms have stringent QA processes to minimize errors and ensure high standards.

 Assessing Communication and Collaboration

Effective communication is key to successful outsourcing. Here’s how to assess a firm’s communication capabilities:

Language Proficiency: Ensure that there are no language barriers that could lead to misunderstandings. Clear communication is vital for conveying complex architectural concepts.

Collaboration Tools: Modern collaboration tools like BIM 360, Slack, or Asana can streamline communication and project management. Check if the firm uses such tools.

Responsiveness: Quick and clear responses indicate a firm’s dedication to customer service. Test their responsiveness during your initial interactions.

Understanding Pricing and Contracts

Cost is a significant factor in outsourcing. Here’s how to navigate pricing and contracts:

Transparent Pricing: Ensure the firm provides a clear and detailed pricing structure. Be wary of hidden costs that can inflate your budget.

Flexible Pricing Models: Different projects may benefit from different pricing models—fixed-price contracts for well-defined projects or hourly rates for more flexible, evolving projects.

Contract Terms: Review the contract carefully. Look for terms related to confidentiality, intellectual property rights, and termination clauses to protect your interests.

Evaluating Turnaround Time

Timeliness is crucial in the fast-paced architectural industry. Here’s how to ensure your outsourcing partner can deliver on time:

Track Record: Check the firm’s history of meeting deadlines. This can often be gleaned from reviews and testimonials.

Resource Availability: Ensure the firm has enough resources to dedicate to your project, especially during peak times.

Project Management Approach: Firms with a robust project management system are more likely to deliver on time. Inquire about their workflow and project management strategies.

Trial Projects and Samples

Before committing to a long-term partnership, consider conducting a trial project. This allows you to:

1. Evaluate Quality: Assess the quality of work and attention to detail.

2. Test Communication: Experience their communication and collaboration firsthand.

3. Gauge Reliability: Ensure they can meet deadlines and handle your project’s specific requirements.

Building a Long-Term Partnership

If the trial project is successful, you can move towards building a long-term partnership. Here are some tips:

1. Regular Check-Ins: Schedule regular meetings to review progress and address any issues promptly.

2. Feedback Loop: Establish a feedback loop to continuously improve collaboration and project outcomes.

3. Scalability: Ensure the firm can scale its services to meet your growing needs.

Conclusion

Choosing the perfect outsourcing CAD drafting service for your architectural project is a multi-faceted process that requires careful consideration and due diligence. By understanding your needs, researching potential firms, evaluating technical expertise, and assessing communication, pricing, and security, you can make an informed decision. Conducting trial projects and seeking cultural compatibility further ensure a smooth and productive partnership. With the right outsourcing partner, you can enhance the efficiency and quality of your architectural projects, allowing you to focus on innovation and design excellence.

[nnctales]

Exploring the Diverse Landscape of BIM Software in Construction: A Comprehensive Guide

Introduction: In the ever-evolving field of construction, Building Information Modeling (BIM) has emerged as a transformative technology that revolutionizes the way buildings are designed, constructed, and managed. BIM software plays a pivotal role in enhancing collaboration, improving efficiency, and minimizing errors throughout the construction process. This article delves into the various…

[technicalfika]

Maximizing the Potential of ChatGPT: Unveiling Unique Strategies for Cloud Solution Architects

The role of Cloud Solution Architects is ever-evolving, demanding adaptability to the latest tools and technologies. Amid this landscape, ChatGPT emerges as a game-changer, offering AI-powered capabilities that can significantly enhance the architect’s effectiveness. This article delves deep into the lesser-known secrets of using ChatGPT, revealing how Cloud Solution Architects can leverage its…

[aman-111]

Unleashing the Full Potential of Your Display SOC with T2M’s DisplayPort v1.4 PHY in 12 FFC IP is available for licensing immediately for your Robust products!

The DisplayPort 1.4 Tx PHY IP in 12FFC represents the pinnacle of display interface technology, offering advanced features and capabilities for high-performance video transmission. This IP is specifically designed to meet the demands of modern multimedia applications and supports the latest DisplayPort 1.4 standard, ensuring compatibility with a wide range of display devices.

With its cutting-edge technology, the DisplayPort 1.4 Tx PHY IP in 12FFC enables the seamless transmission of high-definition audio and video content. It supports resolutions up to 8K, delivering stunning visual experiences with exceptional clarity and detail. The IP incorporates advanced features like adaptive equalization and low-latency signaling, ensuring robust and reliable communication even in challenging signal environments.

The DisplayPort 1.4 Tx PHY IP in 12FFC finds applications in various fields, including consumer electronics, professional displays, gaming, and content creation. It is utilized in high-end monitors, graphics cards, digital signage, and multimedia devices. With its ability to handle high-resolution content and high-bandwidth data, this IP is particularly valuable in gaming setups, virtual reality systems, and content creation workflows.

In conclusion, the DisplayPort 1.4 Tx PHY IP in 12FFC is a state-of-the-art socomution for high-performance display interfaces. Its latest technology, supporting the DisplayPort 1.4 standard, ensures compatibility and future-proofing. The IP's versatility and robustness make it an ideal choice for various applications, from consumer electronics to professional displays. With its ability to transmit high-definition audio and video content at resolutions up to 8K, the DisplayPort 1.4 Tx PHY IP in 12FFC empowers users to enjoy immersive visual experiences and enables the development of advanced multimedia devices and display systems.

[bunni-v1]

Lion's Game

🍓Another long-ass smut fic finished. This one has less plot, so enjoy. There are still 2k words of not smut though, so that's what it is. I hope you little sluts enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Kisses <3

TW: Predator/Prey Dynamics; Rough-ish sex; Creampie; Cum eating; Belly Bulge; Mean Mydei; editing errors

Info: Mydei x Fem!Reader; Smut

Word Count: ~5k Words

MDNI

Castrum Kremnos was once a towering city, its grand walls reflecting its people’s prestige and pride. In its prime, the molten sunlight would kiss the shimmering gold running along its exterior, heating the marble flooring and burning the feet of those unaccustomed to its fiery rage. Much like its people, the city was a proud thing, lavish and beautiful – a sight many reveled at upon the first gaze. A city built to show the pride of the Kremnoan people, the fruits of their endless battles reminding all who saw it to cower, for Kremnoans were as mighty as their kingdom. Forces not to be reckoned with, lest you wish to meet a brutal end.

Even now, the city's beauty is magnificent, like something out of a storybook you’d read as a child. Despite the ruin it has fallen into, the cool marble walls stand proud, a testament to how sturdy Kremnoan architecture was. Most of the rubble was from man or monster, not from lack of stability. The once lively halls were full of still air, eerily quiet. With no one and nothing in sight, the halls remained stagnant in their silence, only filled up by those stupid or brave enough to dare enter.

You weren’t sure which category you fell into. On one hand, Mydei had emboldened you, encouraging you to explore before he began his hunt. He was more familiar with the city, even in ruin, and didn’t want you hurting yourself by any means outside of himself. So you were sent off to explore, and you had spent nearly an hour doing so. Yet, the towering walls had a way of making you feel stupid. Stripped naked like the prey you were, the chill bit at your skin, keeping you from fully relaxing. You did not know this place, and its many passageways and turns were dizzying as you explored. Far too much for you to comprehend when the adrenaline was mixed in with it all.

Nearly an hour of aimless wandering and you were still hardly able to map the city out in your head. You had minutes before Mydei would begin his hunt, the seconds ticking away at your nerves. You would have to hide soon, it was an inevitability, standing out in the open of this ginormous room would only get you caught immediately. There weren’t many places to hide, though, only behind piles of rubble and pillars, but that would be too obvious. Mydei would sniff you out just as fast with such simple-minded tactics.

Moving around him seemed to be the smartest solution, but you would have to figure out where he was first. To get a gauge on him, you would first have to hide, and then keep distance – which he would account for, meaning you’d have to be vigilant at all times. A trembling breath leaves your lips, heat pooling between your legs from the thrill of it all. He hadn’t even started and you were weak in the knees, gods you felt like a helpless maiden. 

You slap your face three times, coming back to reality with the sting. Focus first, on a hiding spot that would be suitable for a short stay. You glance around the room, eyes zeroing in on a slightly ajar door. Swift as a rabbit you dash across the room, pressing against it and smiling when it doesn’t budge, blocked by something on the other side. The crack is small, but just large enough that you could slide in and Mydei couldn’t without tearing it down. 

You slide between them, sighing when you finally get through. This was the only door to this small room, old documents, and parchment paper scattered across the floor. It smells like old books, which is oddly comforting to you in your state. You slide yourself down the opened door, wedged between it and the corner, out of sight from anyone who might try and peer in. As you settle, the game begins, and your body jitters in anticipation.

You hear nothing for a long while, which is to be expected. You had wandered deep into the ruins, and even Mydei would take a moment to get to your location. This does not alleviate the tension around you, not knowing where Mydei was at was reason enough to tremble in fear. Your breaths come out in shallow puffs, rubbing over your cold arms as a means of calming yourself with little success. 

Then, you hear it. The sound of marble rubbing against marble as the door opened and the clanking of metal across the ground. He was here. You swallowed down a gasp, he wasn’t near you yet, so you had to keep yourself level-headed. If you panicked now, you would be found out immediately. Deep breaths, quiet, yet shaky. You had to strain to hear him, despite how much metal he was still wearing – he knew how to keep himself silent. He looked around the same areas you had, as evident by the slight shifting of rubble and unsatisfied grunts when nothing was revealed to him.

Naturally, like you, he drifts toward the door. You listen as he walks up to it, feet falling short right behind your back. You tuck into yourself a little tighter, thighs clenching together like he might hear how wet this had made you. The soft shifting of fabric indicated his leaning forward, peering in like a predator sniffing out his prey. The distinct clinking of his metal claws pushes against the door, trying and failing miserably to get it to budge.

You nearly fail to keep quiet, but clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds from falling out. He breathes heavily, each sound a heave of excitement. You can only imagine the wild look in his eyes as he searches for you in this tiny little room he cannot break into. It almost makes you want to taunt him, but you are smarter than that, staying quiet and hiding like good prey should.

Finally, agonizingly slowly, he pulls back with a sigh. Having decided that the room was no longer worth his time. You strain to listen as he walks away, hearing him check a few other places before finally exiting to the room adjacent to this one again. You recall that one, it has two floors, but the access to the second floor is only through this hall – the stairs had long since crumbled. It was perfect, you could get to the second floor easily and remain hidden while keeping tabs on him.

You wait a few moments longer, allowing him time to get comfortable in the next room before making your risky move. Most would not want to stay in the same room as the person hunting them, but that is exactly why you are. Remaining just out of his reach, ensuring you had a visual upper hand was better than cowering like a child. You crawl out of your hiding space, deftly climbing the stairs to the second floor and slipping into the next room through an open door, quiet as a mouse.

Mydei is still there, you hear him just below you. You keep your back pressed to the wall and body low to be safe, unwilling to be seen by him. Your legs tremble when he grumbles something under his breath, the thick annoyance in his tone having your body begging for him already. You ignore the way they shake, moving silently as he moves, keeping your hunter just beneath you. You wonder what he is thinking, what he plans on doing to you when he catches you. Will he take you hard and fast, or will he torture you slow and painful? Is he as excited as you are? The questions swirl in your mind to a dizzying degree.

You take a sharp breath when you hear him leave into the next room. Unlike this one, there is no way to get to it, which means you will have to either run the other way or follow him and risk being caught. You toss your options back and forth in your head, debating on which would be the smartest, and deciding that perhaps waiting here for a moment would be the right choice. He surely wouldn’t return so quickly, so it would be alright to stay here for just a moment.

Yet the door adjacent to the one he exits from opens, and you see him for the first time. He is wearing his usual uniform, armor, and all. The only difference to him is how narrow his eyes are, sternly focused on the hunt. On finding you. And find you they do, scanning the area above him and blowing wide as they zero in on you. You watch his expression shift from calm determination to wild delight, the lion has found his prey.

Like a monster, he turns and sprints toward the next room, sure to follow you up here where you have effectively cornered yourself for him. Adrenaline curls around your limbs, pooling more heat into your core, and urging you to run. You listen, though you have nowhere to go, only furthering yourself along the wall until you are opposite of where Mydei burst through.

His shoulders are drawn back, hands clenching excitedly at his sides as he rakes his eyes over every inch of exposed skin you offer him. Confidence drips off him, rolling across the room in waves and making you feel smaller than you already are, cowering into the corner. Your brain screams at you to do something, anything to get away from his rapid approach. 

You agree with it, despite how much you want to freeze, your flight kicks in instead. In an instant, you are jumping forward and down to the floor below you. You roll, tumbling a few times ungracefully, your body screaming at the sting. You ignore its cries, turning to look back at Mydei who looks almost terrified until you stand up and bolt through the doors he’d come through.

A wicked laugh tears through the ruins, but you do not allow yourself to stop, the real hunt has begun. Tearing through door after door, corridor after corridor as his clanking footsteps slam quickly behind you. You’re so deep in you do not know where you are, but you continue onward, ignoring the burn of your lungs. Your mind cannot keep up with your surroundings as you run, too much information to keep up with too fast. 

You stumble around, over fallen rubble, cracks in the floor, most anything you cannot immediately process you trip over. Yet, you never fall, adrenaline keeping you upright and running even when your motor skills fail you. Mydei only gets closer with each failure of your feet, until he is practically on your tail. Faster and stronger than you, smarter too without the terror in his veins keeping him anxious.

You come across a large open room, covered in debris from the fall of the kingdom. Loose pillars stand around you, and your only exit is the door that you came through. There is no immediate escape as Mydei backs you into yet another corner, eyes blown wide in anticipation. You think he may tear your throat out like a real predator the closer he comes to you. You are smaller, weaker, and more exhausted than he is. This feels like the end, and he anticipates it to be as he saunters up to you with all the calm of a seasoned warrior.

You never had a chance to truly win this, nor did you really want to. The fear feeds into the heat gathering between your legs, and you want nothing more than for him to take you here and now. That would ruin the fun of it, though, giving up so easily. So, you take into account the one thing you have that Mydei doesn’t. As he reaches out to you, you duck beneath his arms, small stature making it easy to avoid him. No matter how fast his reaction time is, you are just small enough for his second swipe to miss. 

Scrambling over to one of the unstable pillars, you manage to use enough force to get it to tumble to the ground just as Mydei charges forward. He stumbles back for only a moment, but it’s long enough for you to get across the room and through the door again. You have all the means of escaping, and you were so close, yet halfway through the next room you stumble, and this time you cannot correct yourself. Your body crashed to the ground harshly, skidding across the floor. You cry out, scrambling to get up, but it is too late. Mydei was already there, hauling you up by your arm and dragging you alongside him to a nearby couch.

You are thrown against the plush cushions and then forced to look up at Mydei as a clawed hand grabs your face tightly. His talons dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as he drags your eyes to his. You grip at his metal-wrapped hand, squeezing uselessly at the armor like it might free you through desperation alone. He smirks at the pathetic attempt, satisfied with the mess you have become.

“I have won,” he declares simply, “behave unless you enjoy being punished.”

You heave, out of breath, and aching in more ways than one. Mydei does not repeat his previous mistake, of caging you against the back of the couch with his free hand. It takes no effort for him to nudge your legs open, grinning like a beast when your pussy shimmers up at him. You are trembling under his gaze, feeling truly overpowered by him. He was stronger, more physically capable, more intelligent in the ways of the hunt, and he still held the dignity of being fully clothed.

You cannot physically fight him off when he uses the hand holding your face to lay you down on the couch. His body cages yours beneath him, golden eyes tearing a path across all his favorite parts of you. Unabashedly taking in the spoils of his hunt, ignoring the way your legs weakly attempt to push him away from you. So lost in his ogling, he nearly misses the elbow you throw at his head, a last resort to prolong the fight. It misses his temple as he deflects it, instead catching his jaw hard enough to make him blink in surprise.

You almost feel proud to catch the ever-sturdy Mydei off guard, a rare feat from most anyone. You do not get to revel in it, because as soon as you smirk his free hand is shoving its way between your legs, two fingers curling inside you cruelly. He does not bother preparing you in any way, not that he needed to with how well the adrenaline had done its job. Still, the stretch from empty to this stung, drawing a long hiss out between your lips. You are silently thankful that he chose only to wear one gauntlet, likely for this exact reason.

He glares down at you, forcing your eyes back to him with a squeeze against your tender flesh. You fear the golden gauntlets may tear into your skin and scar you. The idea secretly excites you, but you do not voice that. You refuse to voice anything, unwilling to give in yet, despite the futility of fighting.

“Fighting me is useless, you will never win against me. Give up, lest I use more force to make you.” He commands, and you clench around his fingers, excited at the idea of punishment.

It does not amuse Mydei, though, as he frowns at you in some kind of annoyance. The fingers that had been pistoning in you suddenly switch up their movements, instead rolling them against the top of your walls, pressing right into your g-spot. With much effort, you bite your tongue and refuse him any noise other than the choked moan when he initially begins. He watches you with those glowing eyes, hypnotizing you into giving him what he wants, but you remain steadfast.

No matter how hard he presses, how fast he goes, you remain silent. It takes all that you have, but you refuse him the satisfaction of having caught you. He has won the hunt, but you refuse to allow the game to end with such ease. So, even with the coil building quickly in your stomach, you fight him tooth and nail. Fingers gripping the cushions until your knuckles are white, toes curling up until your feet hurt, every exertion is spent on keeping yourself from making noise.

You don’t account for the fact that he will stop so abruptly though, a confused noise bubbling past your mouth when he removes his fingers from you entirely. You stare at him in confusion, even more so when he releases your face. You swallow hard, unsure if he intended to leave you here alone, naked and needy as he stands. He does not walk away, instead, he pulls you up by your hair and shoves you down to your knees.

He keeps a fistful of your hair in his hand as he sits, spreading his legs out and pulling you between them. Thrown off your game, you place your hands on his thighs, staring hard at the lump in his pants. Your eyes find him, and he raises an eyebrow at you, telling you silently to quit playing stupid. Still shaking from your earlier adrenaline rush, you fumble with his pants for a moment, shoving the fabric aside just enough that he springs free. His angry red tip lands right in front of your lips, inviting you to have the taste you’re dying for.

You don’t do it though, staring blankly at his member, entranced by it. Your fingers tap along his armor in anticipation, clinking dully and ringing in your skull. If you sucked him off obediently, you lose. Yet, the sight of his pretty swollen cock, dripping precum down the shaft was wavering your resolve. 

All it takes to crack you completely is a shove of your head, the tip pressing into your cheek as he did. A low growl sounds from his throat, “Suck.”

You don’t have to be told twice after that, opening up and taking him in. He’s merciful enough to let you go at your own pace, but he urges you to swallow all you can as quickly as possible. Your eyes tear up as he brushes the back of your throat, thankful you don’t gag, and then swallowing hesitantly. He sighs when you do, spreading himself out just a little more so you lean forward and take just a little more down your throat.

What you cannot fit, you wrap your hands around, giving a careful few strokes to test. Then, with as much courage as your mind can muster, you start bobbing your head at a slow pace. Each move has you slobbering around him, unable to properly swallow him down. Your spit coats his cock, making the movement easier as you spread it with your hands. Each time his tip touches your throat, your eyes water a little more.

Still, you put your all into swallowing him up. Slowly but surely, he was breaking you down into the good little prey you were. The fight you had in you earlier was all but extinguished by the taste of him. Going from hissing and fighting to cooing and cuddling in no time, completely pacified by the weight of him on your tongue. 

He sighs, relaxing into the cushions and pulling you along carefully by the hair. You gaze up at him, lashes dotted with sparkling tears. He groans at the sight, thumb caressing your forehead with a tenderness he’d been lacking most of the night. Reminding you that he was still your Mydei, even now. The wet slopping of your mouth on him fills the ruins, sending heat through you again. It takes a lot in you to resist the urge to reach between your legs.

You hear him sigh again, readjusting the grip he had on your head. You don’t think much of it initially, just him getting more settled, but you feel him push a little harder each time you go down. You think maybe he’s just being playful, but he keeps going, inching more and more of him down your throat until your hands no longer have room on his shaft. 

His cock throbs between your lips as you struggle to keep up with the faster pace, breaths coming in short uneven blows out your nose. He gives one final push, pressing your nose flush against his skin, hair tickling you. He holds you there, and all you can do is swallow around him. You feel him twitch, your only warning before hot cum pours down your throat. Obediently, you do your best to gargle it down, but you can’t stop it from pouring down the sides of your chin along with your tears.

When he pulls out, you gasp for air, coughing harshly at the invasion of your throat. He holds your face as you do so, swiping the cum off your chin as you catch your breath. Then, he presses it into your mouth. You lick it up, swallowing every last drop he has to offer, then show him proudly. Your reward is him pulling you upward and licking at the salty tracks your tears have left on your face. It makes you moan wantonly, the sound bouncing around the ruins and reverbing right back into Mydei’s dick.

“Stand,” he commands, and you do so without hesitation.

Legs aching and shaky, you support yourself on his shoulder. His eyes roam your figure hungrily, waiting for his final meal to be served like the king he is. They catch on your swollen pussy, leaning forward to kiss your lower lips with a reverence that did not match his earlier actions. He gets his fill, making you stumble in place, supported by his clawed hand digging into your hip. Sure to leave bruises deep into your skin.

He pulls away far too soon for your liking, a thin sheen of you on his lips as he smirks up at you. You bite your lip at the sight, fingers digging into his shoulder as if to hold yourself back. He licks his lips, sure to get all he can of you on his tongue. What he misses, he uses the same thumb that cleaned you of him to gather your essence and push it past your lips. He urges you to taste yourself, like it was as sweet as the pomegranates he loves so much.

You swirl your tongue around the finger, moaning to yourself. There is still the lingering of him, mixing with your own juices, leaving you lightheaded. He pushes down on your tongue, thumb opening your jaw and watching the muscle struggle to still against his hold. He smiles, dragging it down and pulling your lip back on the way down until finally he leaves your mouth alone. Hand falling to your side.

“Sit,” he commands once more, “until you have all of me inside you. Do you understand?”

You nod, placing your knees on either side of him. You align him with your entrance, rubbing your slick along the tip in hopes that it will help with the squeeze. Mydei taps his fingers along your hip impatiently, a warning that he will get involved if you do not listen. With a deep breath, you press his tip inside you. The stretch is instant, stinging as your walls struggle to take his girth within them.

The coating of slick and spit does nothing to help, only making the slide easy, not easing the pain in the slightest. Still, you push onward for fear of Mydei forcing you to take him all at once. Inch after inch, your walls conform and flutter around him, leaving an imprint in your stomach by the time he is fully sheathed inside you. The sting slipped away into a dull ache, begging you to nullify it with pleasure.

Myedi observes you the whole time, doing nothing to step in and help, only drinking you up with his bright golden eyes. They glance down at the bulge in your stomach a few times, fingers lightly tracing over it, raising goosebumps around the sensitive area. You swallow, watching with rapt attention, trying your best not to wiggle too much from feeling him inside and out. When he presses down harder, both of you hiss, clenching around him.

He taps your cheek lightly with his talons, and you gaze upon him in a lust-filled daze. He almost looks sweet with how he gazes upon you. The love for you burns beneath the lust, taking your breath away when he smirks. 

“No hiding your voice,” he says sternly, “Do you understand me?”

A test to make sure you were still coherent, you nod adamantly. Moan a lot, you could understand that command easily. Anything else might be a little difficult, luckily this is all he asks of you. “Yes.”

He hums, tugging your hips forward a little, “Good.”

Never one for hesitation, he immediately moves you against him. A brutal pace to begin it all, guiding you along his shaft with his hands. Your hips meet his in succession, wetly slapping against one another. You have to use his shoulders to steady yourself against him, unable to do anything other than that as he uses you to his contentment.

You moan out with each thrust, crying your burning desire out in the ruins. Your voice rang around, reminding you of just how pathetic you were right now. Being split apart on his cock, babbling like an idiot, begging for more of him. You fall forward at some point, forehead pressed to his sweaty chest, deepening the thrusts unintentionally.

You watch as his cockhead presses up into your stomach repeatedly, whining at the sight. Your fingers come to press into the lump, crying out again when it tightens you even further. Mydei isn’t left unaffected either, groaning and tightening his hold on your hips, leveraging himself off them as he begins to thrust up into you instead. Your body goes limp into him, unable to maintain a sitting position with him slamming into you so relentlessly.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm, walls fluttering uncontrollably around his length. From the way he was twitching around you, you knew he wasn’t far behind either. You were sobbing against him now, your only comfort was the weight of his hands on your hips. He fucked you so well that you couldn’t even think, gasping for air with each upward thrust. 

The coil in your stomach has wound itself so tightly that it is making you lightheaded, you think the next thrust will snap it, but it keeps tightening. Mydei’s cock throbs inside you, and that is what you in, body jolting as your orgasm crashes into you. Mydei presses you close to him, thrusting upwards a few more times before you feel his load empty into you.

Warm kisses press against the crown of your head, strong arms keeping you from thrashing about from pleasure. You sob his name into his skin, shaking through your orgasm. He hushes you, soothing you with gentle strokes up and down your back, until you slowly level out. You are left breathing softly against his chest, curling against him for more warmth as the chill of the room settles over you.

He sighs deeply, brushing hair behind your ear, peering at your tear-stained face with something like guilt. Even after all that, he was still worried he’d taken it too far, despite this being your idea in the first place. He was too sweet for his own good sometimes. You smile tiredly up at him, stroking his cheek with a thumb. His own taloned one trace down the tear tracks, frowning further.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly.

You nod, “Mhm. I know our safeword, I would’ve used it if it was too much.”

He hesitates, then settles on kissing your head again, “Alright.”

You stay like that for a little while longer, neither of you wanting to make the trip back to Okhema just yet. It was peaceful and quiet here, just the two of you alone and at peace. Still, you had to go back at some point, so you carefully peel yourself from Mydei sighing when you feel globs of his cum roll down your thighs.

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s staring, the intensity of his gaze following the sight with unabashed enjoyment. You wipe it up on your hand and leave it on the couch. Perhaps historians will overanalyze the stain at some point in the distant future. 

Mydei stands after you, shrugging off the rich red fabrics and bringing them up around your freezing body. It does little to keep you warm, but it keeps you covered well enough that you can walk through Okhema without getting weird stares from people. He kisses your forehead again when he finishes, gathering you up in his arms.

You frown disapprovingly at him, “I can walk, you know?”

“I don’t want you to,” he states simply, leaving no room for argument.

You give in, resting your head against his shoulder with a sigh. You are silently grateful for it, your body feeling heavy and your eyes tired. You can’t stop yourself from drifting off every few seconds. The sound of his heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful slumber, the last thing on your mind is how lucky you are to have such a loving partner as him.

[the-library-alcove]

One of the things that's honestly so fascinating--sociologically speaking--is how Hamas and the rest of their Islamist allies have managed to turn their "Pro-Palestine" cultists and useful idiots into full-on Arab Supremacist Fascists.

Quoting Umberto Eco's 14 Common Features Of Fascism, with my comments as addendum:

The cult of tra­di­tion. “One has only to look at the syl­labus of every fas­cist move­ment to find the major tra­di­tion­al­ist thinkers. The Nazi gno­sis was nour­ished by tra­di­tion­al­ist, syn­cretis­tic, occult ele­ments.” In the Hamasnik cult, this is exemplified by the claims of an ancient--prehistoric, even!--continuity and history of Palestine, the "well, this is their culture!" promotion of misogyny and sexism, as with the Taliban and Hamas, and, of course, the "Blood and Soil" rhetoric we see being promoted as part of the idealized "Palestinian connection to the land".

The rejec­tion of mod­ernism. “The Enlight­en­ment, the Age of Rea­son, is seen as the begin­ning of mod­ern deprav­i­ty. In this sense Ur-Fas­cism can be defined as irra­tional­ism.” See all of the "anti-Western" outlooks from the Hamasnik crowd, plus all of the rejections of science and documented history in favor of a simplified propaganda narrative.

The cult of action for action’s sake. “Action being beau­ti­ful in itself, it must be tak­en before, or with­out, any pre­vi­ous reflec­tion. Think­ing is a form of emas­cu­la­tion.” See all of the pointless protests, where not only is what is being demanded pointless, but in many cases there is no causal link between their actions and what they supposedly wish to accomplish, and often are actively harmful to their cause. The man who climbed up on London architecture the other month "to bring awareness to the Palestinian cause" did nothing to help them, but he certainly took action!

Dis­agree­ment is trea­son. “The crit­i­cal spir­it makes dis­tinc­tions, and to dis­tin­guish is a sign of mod­ernism. In mod­ern cul­ture the sci­en­tif­ic com­mu­ni­ty prais­es dis­agree­ment as a way to improve knowl­edge.” See how any Palestinian peace activist is treated for an easy example of this one.

Fear of dif­fer­ence. “The first appeal of a fas­cist or pre­ma­ture­ly fas­cist move­ment is an appeal against the intrud­ers. Thus Ur-Fas­cism is racist by def­i­n­i­tion.” Note how "Zionist" has been turned into a pejorative, and "Zio", a slur coined by the KKK, is easily on the lips of these "activists".

Appeal to social frus­tra­tion. “One of the most typ­i­cal fea­tures of the his­tor­i­cal fas­cism was the appeal to a frus­trat­ed mid­dle class, a class suf­fer­ing from an eco­nom­ic cri­sis or feel­ings of polit­i­cal humil­i­a­tion, and fright­ened by the pres­sure of low­er social groups.” See the common statements of "We don't want two state, we want all '48!" and a general refusal to accept that there's a status quo where Israel isn't going anywhere and peace is necessary; instead, there's an attitude of frustration that they want this outcome, and they're going to get it!

The obses­sion with a plot. “Thus at the root of the Ur-Fas­cist psy­chol­o­gy there is the obses­sion with a plot, pos­si­bly an inter­na­tion­al one. The fol­low­ers must feel besieged.” The sheer amount of "Zionists control the government/media/economy/etc" conspiracism makes this almost too easy.

The ene­my is both strong and weak. “By a con­tin­u­ous shift­ing of rhetor­i­cal focus, the ene­mies are at the same time too strong and too weak.” But at the same time as "Zionists control the world", they're also apparently readily intimidated and rebuffed by a bunch of ineffectual and over-privileged college students.

Paci­fism is traf­fick­ing with the ene­my. “For Ur-Fas­cism there is no strug­gle for life but, rather, life is lived for strug­gle.” Again, see the treatment any Palestinian working for a two-state solution for an easy example of this one.

Con­tempt for the weak. “Elit­ism is a typ­i­cal aspect of any reac­tionary ide­ol­o­gy.” This one is interesting, because you do see it... but not in the usual form, because it's become contempt for anyone who isn't willing to show the "strength" of committing full-fledged to their belief system and sacrifice themselves in its service. See, for example, the adoption and twisting of "none of us are free until all of us are free", where activists for other causes that can actually do measurable good are dismissed or condemned for "not standing with Palestine".

Every­body is edu­cat­ed to become a hero. “In Ur-Fas­cist ide­ol­o­gy, hero­ism is the norm. This cult of hero­ism is strict­ly linked with the cult of death.” Everyone is expected to sacrifice themselves for the Uber-Cause, Palestine, and even engage in "activism" when bed-bound.

Machis­mo and weapon­ry. “Machis­mo implies both dis­dain for women and intol­er­ance and con­dem­na­tion of non­stan­dard sex­u­al habits, from chasti­ty to homo­sex­u­al­i­ty.” This one is fascinating, because you do have "Queers For Palestine" and other such Turkeys-For-Thanksgiving groups, but at the same time, watch how they treat other queers who don't get in line with their ideology. Also, note how these people actively celebrate and support rapists from Hamas.

Selec­tive pop­ulism. “There is in our future a TV or Inter­net pop­ulism, in which the emo­tion­al response of a select­ed group of cit­i­zens can be pre­sent­ed and accept­ed as the Voice of the Peo­ple.” And the select group of citizens are "a small fraction of coddled students at elite universities" and "a group of fanatical militants".

Ur-Fas­cism speaks Newspeak. “All the Nazi or Fas­cist school­books made use of an impov­er­ished vocab­u­lary, and an ele­men­tary syn­tax, in order to lim­it the instru­ments for com­plex and crit­i­cal rea­son­ing.”

I'm just going to make a separate list here:

War becomes Genocide.

Humanitarian Aid becomes Manufactured Famine.

Borders become Concentration camp walls.

Suicide bombers become heroes.

Rape becomes Resistance.

Civilian Evacuation becomes Ethnic Cleansing

Unwilling Human Shields become Brave Martyrs

Indoctrinated Child Soldiers become Adorable Spirit Of Resistance or Murder

People returning to their native homeland become Colonizers

Hostages become Prisoners of War

Anti-Rocket Defense becomes a Tool of Genocide

Surrender becomes Ceasefire

Keeping terrorists away from civilians becomes Apartheid

Civilians become Acceptable Targets

And more. (I edited an earlier version of this post that had a graphic I added because I was tired and it contained a lot of what I was going for, but it was pointed out that it had some... issues. So it's gone and this list is added)

So with all of that said, I just find it fascinating (in the same way that, say, a weapon or a dangerous chemical or the like is fascinating) how a bunch of ostensible progressives and Leftists have been conditioned and propagandized into becoming Arab Supremacist Fascists, when the majority of them are not Arab. Many are, in fact, from groups and classes that would be marginalized or actively persecuted if the very Islamists they support gained power over them. At least White Supremacists make sense in a way--they're acting in their own perceived self-interest and self-promotion. But these people? The only thing that's in it for them is the sense of moral superiority and the ability to be as bigoted as they want to against Jews.

And the only thing that I can say to that is that really gives a sense of the seductiveness of bigotry.

[kasparlavik]

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[dieterziegler159]

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[public-cloud-computing]

Unlock the secrets of crafting effective solution architecture documentation, From blueprints to success, in our expert guide. Unleash your full potential.

[rubylogan15]

Unlock the secrets of crafting effective solution architecture documentation, From blueprints to success, in our expert guide. Unleash your full potential.

[alaina-starling]

Schedule’s Full

[Jason Grace x Leo Valdez]

summary: jason grace schedules his daily crash outs, leo valdez finds out later on. established relationship <3 (my shaylas)

genre: fluff (that tried so hard to be angst)

notes: not so accurate to the books, i apologize…! i also believe this is hardly as angsty as i wanted it to be. another thing -> this is set after hera wiped his memory, he got it back, then went back to being praetor with reyna (i’ll be the first to say: I KNOW IT’S STUPID💔)

Jason Grace believed in time management. In scheduling his life to the minute, he’ll be efficient in his day-to-day tasks. And it worked… for a while. However, there was that small problem he hadn’t accounted for, that being the stress of being Camp Jupiter’s Praetor (alongside Reyna) — it didn’t help that he was also a Hero of Olympus.

The son of Jupiter struggled to keep his emotions inside, oftentimes after intense senate meetings he had to take a few minutes to calm down, it was taking a toll on him. Everyone looked up to him, everyone needed something from him. There was always something to be done.

But it was fine… right? He swore relentlessly that he could still go on. He could still be the leader everyone can rely on. Jason was adamant on being an ever present figure that could be trusted as eternal — never changing, staying the same as he was before. (He found happiness in the feeling of being needed, unable to realize that he was a rapidly burning star getting closer to an explosion).

Though pushing his feelings aside and repressing them wasn’t working, in fact he realized, he suddenly had minor memory problems. It started with forgetting the tiny details like food that the Mess Hall was providing that day, or the exact time he was needed at the war room. Then it grew into forgetting what he did just seconds ago, or entire meetings wiped from his memory.

Jason didn’t like that. He didn’t approve of it one bit. He sat in his room, head in his hands trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with him. He felt as if he’d went back in time and was experiencing Hera’s mind wipe once more — but this felt different, he was sure of it.

He looked around the room, a mess of papers and used clothes mirroring his messy brain. He wasn’t usually like this, his ‘usual’ is being fine, his ‘usual’ is being tidy, his ‘usual’ is not forgetting things.

For days he struggled with his schedule, spaces between it filled with tears spilt on documents, cries muffled into his hand as he tries desperately to reel in his slipping control of his emotions. He hates it.

After a particular War Game at the Fields of Mars, Jason crumbles on the floor of the Praetor House, unable to even make it to a bed before his feelings completely take over. Overwhelmed, suffocated, consumed by his idiocy of repressing emotions. His chest tightens like fingers gripping his heart and squeezing until all he knows is pain and the dark spots dancing in his vision, tendrils wrapping around his lungs and cutting his air supply.

This was getting out of hand, he thought.

The day after his episode, he had sat at the Praetor table in the Mess Hall, his hair barely kept, circles darkening around his eyes as he downs copious amounts of liquid — that, to no ones surprise, doesn’t help his pounding headache. Jason felt miserable.

So his solution? Schedule his daily crash outs. He thought this was it! His big break. An amazing breakthrough to a seemingly permanent problem that was ruining his life.

Every 8:30 PM at Jason’s cabin, anyone passing by (not that they are) can hear the weeping of a praetor — can hear the crumbling of a put-together man in the confines of his private room. And thirty minutes later, he’s off to bed, sleeping early to wake up at 3 AM and repeat the cycle.

This truly was it.

Jason breathes a sigh as he scans a paper of another proposal for New Rome architecture, his fingers smoothing his eyebrows as he glances at the clock, six thirty.

Leo peeks his head into the room, his messy black curls bouncing as he strides to Jason with a smile and darkened hands — soot. Probably still fixing Festus, Jason thinks. “You good, Superman? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“That’s not for another two hours,” Jason assures — like it was normal to schedule cry sessions.

Leo chuckles, a deep sound that bounces off the walls perfectly finding Jason’s awaiting ears. “Right,” he murmurs, thinking the other boy’s joking.

“So, why are you here?” The praetor breathes tiredly.

Leo — sensing his exhaustion — leans closer, eyeing Jason curiously (suspiciously would have been a better word). “I was just taking a break from fixing Festus’ wiring. Wanted to see you,” he purrs.

Jason sinks into his chair as the Hephaestus child does this, heart beating Leo’s name in morse code. “You’ve seen me. You can now leave,” he mumbles lamely.

They don’t see each other again until later at night. Leo, being the cutesy little baby boy that he is, checks up on Jason. And confirming his suspicions, he hears the whimpers of the praetor. Unable to take it, he enters the cabin, surprising Jason.

“Leo,” he gasps in shudders, hands clutching the wrists of the hands that caress his skin.

Leo wraps his arms around the Roman, fingers carding through his hair as he whispers soft reassurances of comfort and love. Jason melts into the warmth Leo provides, the other boy’s (unnaturally) hot skin pressing against his (equally unnatural) cold one.

“Shhh, shh. I’m right here, Jase. You’re not alone, I’ve got you,” he promises, rubbing Jason’s back with his free hand.

Every choked sound that leaves Jason physically stabs Leo’s heart like tiny swords in the form of materialized cries. It was painful to see his beloved so distraught, he couldn’t even imagine how much Jason was holding up on his shoulders. The praetor’s tears fall on Leo’s neck like liquid flame burning his skin, trickling down the freckles Jason loves to trace with his fingers.

In those thirty minutes he schedules his crying sessions, Leo stays beside him. This was the first Jason had another person with him, but he finds that he doesn’t really mind — not if it’s Leo, anyway. Pretty, warm, soft, and fiery, Leo Valdez.

Leo popping by becomes Jason’s norm. In between bites as he eats at the Mess Hall, while he prepares for War Games, as he walks towards Temple Hill. Leo is always there, checking up on him, making sure he was okay.

Today is no different. “Hey, Jase. Thought I’d drop by to make sure you’re eating,” he teases, plopping a box of brownies on the praetor’s desk.

The blond nods simply, pushing it aside and gazing up at the boy leaning over his desk. “What are you doing?”

“Reading your documents— oh, hey! That’s Annabeth’s proposal!” Leo beams, a toothy grin flashing on his face.

Jason’s eyes droop to his lips before he turns his attention back to the paper. Huh, how had he not noticed it before. It was the Chase girl’s proposal. “If that’s all you have to do, Leo, you can go now,” Jason says, lifting his head.

Leo smiles, wiping his hands on his shirt — dirtying his white tee more than it already is — and untying the cookie box. “I’m hurt, Jase. I came to eat with you.”

“I don’t need to eat right now—“

“Say ‘ah’, Jasey.”

“Mmhph— Valdez,” Jason manages to grumble against the cookie haphazardly shoved lovingly placed in his mouth. But his pinking cheeks attest against his annoyed tone.

Leo’s irises flash in the color of fire as he stares at Jason’s scar, which makes the latter think ‘he’s staring at my lips’. Leo had always been observant of Jason’s mannerism, but he is especially observant now, knowing the other boy’s scheduled crash outs. His own lips quirk upwards as Jason’s scar twitches. “That’s right, just eat the cookie, Jase.”

The sweetness bursts in Jason’s tongue, the perfectly baked cookie dough splitting as he chews down on it, but all he can think is how glad he is that Leo’s here.

[inspiration from this post by @damstaplereater]

extra note: got this out before my luke fic 💀. but let me know what you think in the comments! i’d love constructive criticism and how i can improve my works 💗. alsooo, jason defo wakes up at ungodly hours, trust me, i’m his blanket!!

[germanpostwarmodern]

As one of Germany’s most successful architects and real estate developers, Walter Brune (1926-2021) has had a significant influence on German postwar architecture: with his early bungalows and single-family homes for the likes of retail magnate Helmut Horten he brought Californian leisure to Germany and with his „Stadtgalerien“ (city galleries) he established the inner-city retail mall. Lesser-known aspects of Brune’s vast oeuvre are the numerous apartment and office buildings he designed throughout his career and which are documented in the present two volumes edited by Holger Pump-Uhlmann and published in 2014 and 2017.

In both instances Brune was an innovative architect who took up global developments and translated them to the German requirements. Accordingly, his office buildings reflect changing trends, e.g. the American curtain wall of the 1950s or the sculptural prefab brutalism of the 1960s and 1970s. In terms of spatial organization he also implemented the shift from the cellular individual office towards the open-plan office and office landscape.

A similar diversity also shows in Brune’s apartment buildings: where in the 1950s the economical use of materials and standardized plans prevails, he already in the 1960s designed significantly more bold and sculptural apartment buildings and towers with a broad range of floor plans tailored to the demands of an individualizing society. At the same time Brune took particular care of the outdoor spaces which he regarded is essential to a positive living environment.

Although both volumes certainly are designed to praise the achievements of Walter Brune, they nonetheless offer a basis for a critical evaluation: thanks to the comprehensive photographic and plan/section material included in the two volumes, the reader is able to analyze the spatial organization of the individual buildings and understand the interesting solutions Brune found for both office and apartment buildings. Hence, the two books and their two predecessors dedicated to Brune’s houses and shopping centers are a welcome addition to the overall literature on German postwar architecture and its protagonists.

[layover-linux-official]

Write One to Throw Away?

If you're in the software industry for long enough, you'll hear this advice eventually. There's an infamous Catch-22 to writing code:

You don't deeply understand the problem (or its solution space) until you've written a solution.

The first solution you write will have none of that hindsight to help you.

So it naturally shakes out that you have to write it at least one time before you can write it well, unless you're stricken with exceptional luck. And the minimum number of attempts you will need is two: one to throw away, and a second attempt to keep.

It's just math. It's just logic. Write one to throw away. It's got the world's easiest proof. You'd have to be some kind of idiot to argue with it!

Okay, hear me out...

As you work on bigger and older projects, you will continuously be confronted with a real-world reality: that requirements are an input that never stops changing. You can make the right tool for the job today, but the job will change tomorrow. Is your pride and joy still the right tool?

If you're like most developers, your first stage of grief will be denial. Surely, if we just anticipate all the futures that could possibly happen, we can write code that's ready to be extended in any possible direction later! We're basically wizards, after all - this feels like it should work.

So you try it. You briefly feel safe in the corrosive sandstorm of time. Your code feels future proof, right up until the future arrives with a demand you didn't anticipate, which is actually so much harder to write thanks to your premature abstractions. Welcome to the anger stage. The YAGNI acronym (you ain't gonna need it) finally registers in your brain for what it is - a bitter pill, hard-won but true.

But we're wizards! We bargain with our interpreters and parsers and borrow checkers. Surely we can make our software immortal with the right burnt offerings. We can use TDD! Oops, now our tests are their own giant maintenance burden locking us into inflexible implementation decisions. Static analysis and refactoring tooling! Huh, well that made life support easier, but couldn't fix fundamental problems of approach, architecture and design (many of which only came into existence when the requirements changed).

As the sun rises and sets on entire ISAs, the cold gloom eventually sets in. There is no such thing as immortal software. Even the software that appears immortal is usually a vortex of continuous human labor and editing. The Linux kernel is constantly dying by pieces and being reborn in equal or greater measure - it feels great to get a patch merged, but your name might not be in the git blame at all in 2 years time.

I want to talk about what happens when your head suddenly jumps up in astonished clarity and you finally accept and embrace that fact: holy shit, there is no immortal software!

Silicon is sand

... and we're in the mandala business, baby.

I advocate that you write every copy to be thrown away. Every single one. I'm not kidding.

Maybe it'll be good enough (read adequacy, not perfection) that you never end up needing to replace your code in practice. Maybe you'll replace it every couple years as your traffic scales. But the only sure thing in life is that your code will have an expiration date, and every choice you make in acknowledgement of that mortality will make your life better.

People are often hesitant to throw out working code because it represents years of accumulated knowledge in real-world use. You'd have to be a fool to waste that knowledge, right? Okay. Do your comments actually instruct the reader about these lessons? Does secondary documentation explain why decisions were made, not just what those decisions were? Are you linking to an issue tracker (that's still accessible to your team)? If you're not answering yes to these type of questions, you have no knowledge in your code. It is a black hole that consumed and irreparably transformed knowledge for ten years. It is one of the worst liabilities you could possibly have. Don't be proud of that ship! You'll have nowhere to go when it sinks, and you'll go down with it.

When you write code with the future rewriter - not merely maintainer - in mind, you'll find it doesn't need to be replaced as often. That sounds ironic, and it is, but it's also true. Your code will be educational enough for onboarding new people (who would rewrite what they don't understand anyways). It will document its own assumptions (so you can tell when you need a full rewrite, or just something partial that feels more like a modification). It will provide a more useful guiding light for component size than any "do one thing well" handwave. And when the day finally comes, when a rewrite is truly necessary, you'll have all the knowledge you need to do it. In the meantime, you've given yourself permission to shit out something sloppy that might never need replacing, but will teach you a lot about the problem domain.

This is independent of things like test suite methodology, but it does provide a useful seive for thinking about which tests you do and don't want. The right tests will improve your mobility! The wrong tests will set your feet in cement. "Does this make a rewrite easier?" is a very good, very concrete heuristic for telling the two apart.

Sorry for long-posting, btw. I used this space to work through some hazy ideas and sharpen them for myself, particularly because I'm looking at getting into language design and implementation in the near future. Maybe at some future date, I'll rewrite it shorter and clearer.

TL,DR:

Every LOC you write will probably eventually be disposed or replaced. Optimize for that, and achieve Zen.

[mysterioustrooperservant]

Exploring SpookySwap: The DeFi Hub of Fantom in 2025

As decentralized finance (DeFi) continues to expand across multiple chains, users are seeking platforms that offer efficiency, transparency, and seamless user experience. On the Fantom Opera blockchain, SpookySwap has consistently delivered on all three fronts — earning its place as one of the most respected and functional DEXs in the ecosystem.

This article explores how SpookySwap evolved into a comprehensive DeFi hub, what it offers users in 2025, and how you can take advantage of its features to navigate the multichain DeFi landscape.

What Is SpookySwap?

SpookySwap is a decentralized exchange (DEX) and automated market maker (AMM) built natively on the Fantom network. Since its launch in 2021, the platform has prioritized speed, low fees, and a simplified user interface, making it one of the most user-friendly DEXs in the space.

Unlike some DEXs that offer only token swaps, SpookySwap has grown into a multifunctional DeFi ecosystem that includes:

Token trading

Yield farming and staking

Cross-chain bridging

Governance through the $BOO token

You can review their technical documentation and open-source repositories via their official GitHub: 🔗 SpookySwap GitHub

Core Features of SpookySwap

1. Token Swaps

SpookySwap allows users to trade any Fantom-compatible token using its AMM protocol. All trades occur in decentralized liquidity pools, which offer competitive slippage and low gas fees.

2. Liquidity Pools and Yield Farming

By contributing tokens to liquidity pools, users receive LP tokens that can then be staked in SpookySwap Farms to earn $BOO, the platform’s governance and utility token.

3. Staking via xBOO

SpookySwap offers a single-sided staking solution. Users can stake $BOO to receive xBOO, which entitles them to a portion of trading fees generated on the platform.

4. Cross-Chain Swaps

The SpookySwap Bridge enables seamless movement of assets between Fantom and other networks like Ethereum, Arbitrum, BNB Chain, and Polygon — directly through the app interface.

Why SpookySwap Stands Out in 2025

Built on Fantom

Fantom's high-speed, scalable architecture allows SpookySwap to offer ultra-fast transactions and negligible gas fees — a major advantage over Ethereum-based DEXs.

Community-Led and Transparent

As a decentralized project, SpookySwap is governed by its community through $BOO token proposals and votes. It also maintains complete transparency via open-source smart contracts and community contributions.

Continuous Upgrades

SpookySwap has stayed relevant by consistently improving its UI/UX, upgrading its backend architecture, and supporting multichain integrations. These efforts have kept the platform at the forefront of DeFi innovation.

Getting Started with SpookySwap

Download a Web3 wallet (MetaMask or Rabby)

Add the Fantom network to your wallet

Transfer FTM tokens for gas and trading

Connect your wallet to SpookySwap

Swap tokens, provide liquidity, or stake — all in one interface

Learning Resources

To help users understand how decentralized exchanges work and how to safely use them, platforms like Binance Academy offer comprehensive guides. Learn more here: 📘 Binance Academy

SpookySwap FAQ

What is the $BOO token? $BOO is the native governance token of SpookySwap. It can be used for staking, farming rewards, and voting on proposals.

Is SpookySwap only on Fantom? While built on Fantom, SpookySwap supports multichain bridging, allowing users to move assets from Ethereum, Arbitrum, and other networks.

How do I earn rewards on SpookySwap? By providing liquidity and staking LP tokens in farms, or staking $BOO in the xBOO pool.

Is SpookySwap audited? Yes. SpookySwap’s smart contracts are open-source and have undergone audits. You can find more information on GitHub.

Final Thoughts

SpookySwap represents a mature, efficient, and community-driven DEX experience in 2025. Its position on the Fantom network gives it an edge in speed and cost, while its multichain features expand its relevance across DeFi ecosystems.

Whether you are a passive holder, active trader, or yield farmer, SpookySwap offers a comprehensive set of tools to help you grow your crypto portfolio — all within a secure and user-friendly environment.

[14dyh]

Manic | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x female reader Summary: Two scientists found company with each other through their same twisted minds. Word count: 1.5k A/N: Scientist Hange is my fav genre

The research laboratory holds a wholesome, commonplace landscape. A scenery one either wishes to escape from or spend a worthless eternity into. The enormous twisted trees and primeval architecture only gave it a sense of bleak, outworn fashion. A place outclassed by its time. It held the most average people who are contented with their lives and the science they know. It made Y/N wonder what put the ingenious Hange Zoë in such a place.

Perhaps it was the strangeness of the place itself that drove their curious mind to wander there. Y/N watched in silent amazement as this new researcher came into the lab. It was a rather unusual sight to see one who was fairly young and determined to go into such a dreary place to continue their research.

Hange's biological experiments was then supported by what fund the research lab had since Hange proposed inventive and novel ideas the organization cannot refuse to let down. Y/N did her best to admire such a fascinating person up close, seeing Hange enlivened the potential she once lost upon entering the university: her insatiable, curious mind absorbed by ideas far more complex than her pragmatic nature could bear. Y/N found a similarity between her and Hange, one not familiar enough to end up tasteless nor too complex to apprehend. Both have a prized goal, and both cannot handle being suppressed. It might be disastrous that they finally have each other.

"Hey, Hange, come over here," Y/N muttered, thumbing through the papers containing the experiment results. Hange comes over and leans over her shoulder to see what part of the document she's pointing at.

"Look at the succeeding results from the fourth and fifth trials. It's growing more effective because of the solution."

Hange smirked, thumbing through the rest of the paper. "What can I say, the modifications you've made certainly improved the study," Hange's eager eyes met hers. "I couldn't believe I could meet someone as invested in this as you are."

Hange went on about their experience with the study, about having various contradicting resources that made them rely more on the theory and evidence they had at hand. They would smile thinking about the lab partners who got scared listening to their findings.

Hange leaned on the counter, "It's fascinating how your knowledge perfectly supplied mine. Like a missing-half metaphor…"

Y/N would only smile and attribute their connection to the niche interests that mainly held them close.

Hange closed the distance between them as they place a hand over hers. Y/N could feel the feverish excitement within their fingertips.

"I have something to show you tomorrow," Hange whispered. "It's a surprise. Just for you."

Y/N spent the night thinking what the surprise would be, what would be something so important that it had to be put off tomorrow. She smiled at the possibilities of what sort of creation Hange conceived in their mind. Y/N could not help the affection bubbling inside their chest. It was as though an intoxicating sense of purpose overcame her body and warmed her in and out. A strong admiration clawing inside; a creature begging to be let out into the world. Their love erases the doom, overcast skies of who she used to be. The research lab ceased to become a bleak place but became one that held someone like Hange, one whose presence commanded her to live again.

However, the morning greeted her with a louring sky, one threatening to weep a storm. The dim lights, the faint swaying trees, the muffled chatters: all wandered in her mind once again, replacing the excitement from last night. It went on and on like a sinister videotape--a bad omen.

She found Hange sitting alone beside the window in the lab with the lights turned off. It is unusual for them to sit in the dark like this, knowing that they always open all the lights, saying things like their vision will worsen if they work in a dim environment. Y/N approached them, getting closer until her hands were on either side of their shoulder. Hange's familiarity with her only showed as they laced their fingers around hers in response.

"You must be thinking about my surprise for you," Hange said and gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry, princess, I think my surprise for you would be a tad bit delayed. I'm…well, I'm banned from the main laboratory for the time being."

Y/N shook her head lightly and laughed, "What is it this time?"

Hange, despite being prized by the research lab still receives a reprimand from the higher-ups when they break lab rules or operate something new without authorization.

Hange was silent for a moment. "I was hoping to test our solution on a human test subject."

Y/N was taken aback but not surprised to hear Hange's request. She knew this day would come, it's an inevitable fate among ambitious scientists like they are: to do something amoral for their experiments.

"I assume you did not tell them about the details of our experiments," Y/N wants to assure.

"No," Hange shook their head. "If they knew about what we're doing, suspicion would not slide off from us that easily." They paused for a moment and laughed, "Haha, we're keeping it a secret as though we're forbidden lovers or something."

Y/N could see the smile on Hange's face but she noticed the transitory gloom that passed over their eyes. Those desperate, fiery eyes were caught by conflict due to their current situation.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, you know." Their eyes are looking afar, over the gnarled trees and overgrown lawn. Just beyond the window was the outside world overcast with gloomy clouds. Aside from that, there is nothing much to see. It was a depressing view indeed. But Hange's mind was too caught up with ideas to think about such. "I know you don't appreciate surprises very much but that's only because people who have tried to surprise you have only come up with lame ideas. If I restore a dying person's life in front of you, I think you would be pretty amused." They winked.

"Well, I'd say you're right," she gave Hange a small smile.

"Remember when we first talked about this experiment?" Hange asked.

"Yes, because we talked all night and didn't get any sleep."

Hange laughed, "That's right,"

"You told me about the possibility of your solution not only to extend life but fully restore it," Y/N continued, the memory playing vividly in her head. "It was a risky experiment since it can only be conducted in dying specimens."

"Yes, that's it," Hange responded. "The higher-ups don't know the full details of the experiment, but they cannot risk letting me experiment on a dying patient. I understood, but I thought I could have persuaded them. My charm did not work this time. Sorry."

Y/N knew that despite Hange's composed demeanor, they were upset about running out of plans on how to conduct the latest experiment. They were preparing this as a surprise for Y/N, after all. Y/N could not help but notice Hange's gadabout and fierce nature dim as though a bright light that was stolen too early. There must be a way, Hange thinks as they sit together in silence.

Y/N, on the other hand, still lingers on the fascination she has for Hange. On how she was immediately swept when Hange told her their cause for pursuing such a pioneering invention. "Life and death will cease to be profound once defied. It will simplify things and eliminate all of humanity's existential dread and powerlessness." Y/N remembered Hange's hopeful smile and determined eyes as they said this. She could not let such determination dissipate just because of scientific boundaries or moral views.

Y/N leaned down and wrapped an arm around Hange before whispering, "I could bring you a human specimen tomorrow."

This bold statement astonished Hange, they furrowed their eyebrows in confusion, doubting the reality behind Y/N's words.

"You heard me, Hange," Y/N continued. "I will bring you a dying person tomorrow, and do what you will. I'll observe and take notes. We will do it in the makeshift lab in my basement. It hasn't been used for a long time but the space and materials are sufficient."

Hange's eyes grew wide in amazement, "You have an underground lab?"

As Y/N nodded, Hange could notice the deep excitement etched in Y/N's face. She has a reserved, respectable nature as a scientist, and only Hange knew how twisted her desires and fantasies could be. Hange found a vital piece within her that would complete them. No one will ever come close to the profound connection they share.

Hange pulled Y/N close, planting a chase kiss on her lips as they gathered her in their arms. The kiss was only a superficial facade that veiled their raw and earnest love for each other. The research lab where they met will remain as an accessory to the meeting of two lovers who follow each other's twisted will.

"I can't wait to do this with you," Hange smiled on her lips. "Perhaps we can delve into deeper experiments right after, hm?"