Javascript in theory and practice
JavaScript: Bridging the Gap between Theory and Practice
JavaScript, often simply abbreviated as JS, is a powerful, high-level programming language that has become one of the foundational pillars of modern web development. This article will delve into the theoretical underpinnings of JavaScript and how they translate into practical application.
I. The Theoretical Foundations
1. Origin and…
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The single benefit of so many transfems not being aware of how to touch and please themselves and other transfems is that when they do finally have sex with a transfem who does know, you get to touch them in places they never considered in ways they’d never thought and hear the hitch in their voice as their conception of sex melts away against the fingers pressed into them. Sex as educating them on their body and the new possibilities it’s capable of can be very hot, but also you can completely let it go to your head when she says it was the best sex she’s ever had.
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For @vintonharper , who asked for a flip of the hugs-for-crying-Val scene from Chapter 53 from Äri’s perspective!
Snippet for you! Love ya!
Äri met up with Nári on the way out of school to meet Mom in the parking lot. “Anything interesting?” he asked, nudging her with his backpack.
“If only,” Äri groaned (it had been a long day of nothing) and then she caught sight of her mother’s face through the windshield. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” Nári followed her gaze. “Oh no.”
Mom was glaring darkly into space, and Äri was a little nervous to climb into the car. Neither she nor Nári felt like calling shotgun that day.
It was Nári who got up the nerve to ask, “What is it, Mom?”
She sighed, and made a visible effort to smooth her expression as she threw the SUV into reverse. “It’s Valandil.”
That was not what Äri had expected, though she probably should have. Dorky Isil’s dorkier boyfriend had basically entered their lives in tears and chaos.
“What’s up with Val this time?” she asked.
“He was seriously triggered during a therapy session, and Isil thought it best to bring him home,” Mom said. “Isil says he’s been crying for hours.”
Äri felt her jaw tighten and her hands clench. She had a vague impression of another Valandil, whom she’d never seen cry once, but this Val was like a sad puppy when he was upset. A big, sad puppy whom she wanted to shut away from Mean People.
“Is it about his shitty parents again?” Nári was scowling too.
“Language,” Mom said automatically. “And I’m afraid so.”
Äri folded her arms. She was with Isil at this point: she did not like Val’s parents.
When they got home, Nári headed off into the kitchen but Äri stopped in the living room. Dad was on the couch snuggling Val, whose face was stained with tears. How could someone so big and solid seem so frail?
Her feet were moving before she realized it, and Dad met her eyes and Understood. He let Val go, getting up so she could slide in beside him. Val was quite a bit bigger than she was, but she hugged him as tight as she could.
(She didn’t get it. What kind of person could find it in themselves to make Val cry at all, much less hit him?)
Val gave a little “oh” of surprise, and she thought she heard him sniffle again. “Thank you, Äri,” he said softly, and settled into her.
Isil came into the living room, and paused. He smiled at Äri, mouthing thank you when Val wasn’t looking. Äri acknowledged him only by rubbing Val’s arm; she loved Isil, dork that he was, but this wasn’t for him. It was all for Val himself, who blushed at curse words and played their piano at her asking.
Then in came Nári with pickles, and Val gave a quavery laugh. “You remembered?”
“I remembered!” Nári grinned, all too pleased with himself; but Äri decided to let him have this one.
She did have to let him go so he could eat the pickles, though.
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