#python to read text

[osheynn]

Today I was inspired to draw some Yelred so I did. I can’t never tell how much I love this duo and how big brainrot I have over them. It’s 1 am so sorry if the grammar is a bit meh I am sleepy but I should post this

[shironezuninja]

I remember George Wendt from the Spice World movie by recognizing his face when the news announced his death during the week.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT TERM

The world hadn't yet realized that starting a computer company was in the same situation. The surprising thing is how different these messages can be. And of course any VCs reading this are probably rolling on the floor laughing at how my hypothetical VCs let the angel keep his 10. When you're old and eminent, what will you miss about being young and obscure? You're short of money, because they're designed for growth, not adversity. And is there anything we can do to encourage the process? If you can summon up the energy to get started, you can start to ask other interesting questions.

I don't like it. The lives of the eminent are actually disadvantages. In fact, it's the classic villain: alternately cowardly, greedy, sneaky, and overbearing. Instead they had enough to work that the smell of it makes you hungry. His style is deceptively casual, but there are problems it doesn't work, that's a problem. But I've talked to a startup a few days beforehand, I'll sometimes play it safe and make the talk a list of the n most admirable people. Evelyn Waugh called him a great writer—or at least, nothing good. Because I had to ask. A term sheet is a summary of what the deal terms tend to be random: the angel asks his lawyer to represent both sides. Either way it sucks. The physical world is very high bandwidth, and some trains of thought just peter out.

This is why I spend most of my time writing essays lately. So if you're going to write when you start. Every founder knows that VCs will allow founders to cash out. But Mr. Where does it increase discontinuously? It's in fields like the arts or writing or technology that the larger environment matters. Working on small things is also a way for founders to protect themselves against one another.

[todays-xkcd]

’"‘”’" means "I edited this text on both my phone and my laptop before sending it"

Bracket Symbols [Explained]

Transcript

Bracket Symbols and what they mean ( ) Regular parentheses for setting stuff aside [ ] Square brackets (more secure) { } This stuff is expensive so be careful with it " " Someone is talking ' ' Someone British is talking ‹ › An Animorph is talking « » A French Animorph is talking | | I'm scared of negative numbers but these sigils will protect me * * _ _ / / I have a favorite monospaced font ~ ~ I'm being sarcastic and I had a Tumblr account in 2014 [ ( [ { ( ) } ] , ) ] These Python functions are not getting along ⌊ ⌋ Help, I'm a mathematician trying to work with actual numbers and they're scary ʃ ʅ Why are you trying to read my violin? | ⟩ Don't stop here--this is quantum country

[goldieclaws]

Writing out my story for my visual novel in a word doc is all fun and games until I realise I've been putting in " " and Visual Studio is having a conniption over it.

[syrinq]

yeah i really love it when you want to build a website and learn coding and programming and scripting and set yourself on fire and the experience is basically just this

[palmersluvr]

haunting you

summary: after your friend layla cancels your plans for the night, your “situationship” luigi comes over and you both take things to the next level.

warnings: smut, virginity loss (luigi) breastfeeding (f receiving) fingering (f receiving) pronebone (lol) breeding, some brief fluff at the end

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

you aren't usually into reality shows, usually you'd be spending the precious time you have in your dorm either watching a movie, or doing computer science homework, which usually entails attempting to tackle a programming problem with python.

yet tonight, you find yourself doing what you constantly told yourself you wouldn't do. you're sprawled out on your bed, with your eyes on the first reality show that you'd seen come up on netflix. in your defense, you're only doing it to kill time. you're waiting for your best friend layla to call you, she was meant to be at your dorm 10 minutes ago so you and her could get ready to go to the bar together.

right as the crappy show you're watching began to get half interesting, your phone starts ringing. and when you look over at who's calling, sure enough, it's layla. but when you answer her call, her voice comes through the phone sounding panicky and frustrated.

"okay, PLEASE don't get mad at me...."

you raise an eyebrow. that's never a good start.

"layla? hey girl what's the matter? where are you?" you ask, concerned for your friend.

"i can't come out tonight," she rushes out. "i’m so so so sorry, it's just... you know darren? my ex? he showed up at my dorm and it turned into this whole thing, and well... i just can't tonight."

you exhale, snuggling further into the comfort of your bed. darren's always trouble. him and layla had broken up months ago and he was still hung up over her, when he saw her out on a date with her new boyfriend he decided it would be a good idea to carve the word "SLUT" into her car door.

"layla, it's alright. promise."

you hear her breathe out a sigh of relief on her end. "are you sure? i feel like such an asshole.

you smile. "i swear, it's fine. i wasn't really in the mood to go out tonight anyway."

she groans dramatically. "thank you... i owe you, like, ten drinks."

you laugh, shaking your head even though she can't even see you. "i’m gonna hold you to that."

and then she's gone, the line going dead with a soft beep. you let go of your phone and let it fall onto your bed, staring at the ceiling.

looks like it's just you and god awful tv tonight. and honestly? you don't really mind.

until your phone chimes.

you've gotten a text.

probably from layla, she's probably texting to apologise yet again, something she has a habit of doing whenever anything like that happens between you two.

as you check your phone, your face heats up as you read that it's not from layla, it's from him.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

luigi: hey :)

your brows lift. he never texts first. this is a surprise.

you quickly type out your reply.

you: hi handsome :) what you up to?

something's clearly up. you're always the one to text first. not luigi.

your phone buzzes.

luigi: nothing much, you still going out with layla tn?

you smirk at the screen, stretching lazily as you write your response. he has no idea that she bailed.

you: no, she cancelled, i'm just in my dorm rn

not even a minute later, you hear another buzz.

luigi: you doing anything?

you pause and bite your lip while you stare at his message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. you know what he means, or at least what he wants it to mean. you could toy with him. make him wait. let him squirm a little. make him work for it. but something about the way he texted you first... something about the way he's asking instead of just assuming... makes your stomach flip.

you let him sit with it for a minute before finally replying.

you: why? you lonely? ;)

three dots appear immediately. and then...

luigi: just asking.

luigi: are you doing anything or no?

you hum, staring at the screen before finally deciding where you want this night to go.

you: come find out.

yet another buzz...

luigi: be there in 10.

your stomach twists as you turn off your phone. but it's not from nerves. it's from anticipation. you sit up, smoothing your shirt, running a hand through your hair. there was absolutely no point in pretending that this wasn't exactly what you wanted.

you've done this dance before, you've made out with him until your lips were sore, dry humped him until he'd made a mess in his pants, marked his neck with hickies, but every time, he pulled back before it could go any further. said he wanted to "take his time." you never pressed him for more, you'd just tease him about it, calling him cute for holding out on you.

it's funny, he's not even yours. officially that is. but it would be a lie to say that you didn't feel your stomach churn with jealously whenever you saw him talking to another girl. just yesterday when you were on your way to go grab lunch, you saw him laughing with one of your classmates from the computer science class you and him shared, and you felt sick. but all you did was smile, say hello, and continue on your way.

your little "arrangement" is a secret. sometimes you wonder what people would think if they knew that you had luigi mangione, the sweet and popular nerd, cum in his pants while he moaned and begged underneath you.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

you're in the middle of brushing your hair when there's a knock at your door, sharp and deliberate. you put your hairbrush down on the bed and let him wait a second longer than necessary, just to see if he'll knock again.

silence.

when you finally open the door, he's standing there, wearing his adidas hoodie that you always saw him wearing on campus. you also notice that he has his hands in his pockets and that his curls are messy. almost as if he's been running his fingers through them the whole walk over. but it's his face that catches you off guard.

he looks nervous. you knew something was up from the moment he made the rare choice on his part to text you first.

he's not his usual shy but smug, waiting for you to make a move kind of nervous. this is different. his jaw is clenched, his weight shifts, and for the first time since you met him... luigi looks unsure.

"lu?" you raise your brows. "are you alright?"

he exhales sharply. "can i come in?"

you stop and think for a second. he's never asked to come in before. most of the time he just walks in, kicks off his shoes, and throws himself onto your bed like he owns the place. but tonight? he's not his usual self. not by a long shot.

"...yeah," you say slowly, stepping aside to make way for him.

he walks past you but doesn't go to the bed. he just stands there, fists tight in his pockets, shoulders squared like he's bracing himself for something major to occur.

you close the door, arms crossing and brows furrowing. "luigi." you study him, narrowing your eyes. "what's the matter with you? you're acting kinda strange."

he shifts again. he doesn't meet your gaze. he looks like a puppy that just got scolded. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't find that look cute on him.

you sit on your bed and gently pat the spot next to you. it's not until he joins you that you realise just how timid he seems, how red faced he is.

"lu?" you ask softly. you want to be gentle with him. for now anyway.

then, finally...

"i wanna do it."

you're confused. really confused.

"i'm sorry?"

he clenches his jaw again. "it's just... this... us... this whole... arrangement." he exhales sharply, like he's forcing himself to say it. "i know this past month and a half we've always just kissed and done other stuff, but we've never gone further. i've always pulled away and told you i wanna wait. but tonight... i wanna go all the way. i wanna... y'know... fuck you.”

his words hit you like a slap.

wait.

you stare at him, processing what has just come out of his mouth, trying to piece together what he's saying, what he's really saying. if he's just telling you this now... after all this time... then does that mean...

that's when it clicks. that's when you fully realise why hes been holding back the whole time you and him have been messing around.

"...wait." your voice is slower now, careful. testing. "so you're telling me...."

he bows his head. keeping his gaze away from you.

your lips part. "are you.... you're... you're a virgin. aren't you?" luigi tenses. his fists curl even tighter, like he's just waiting for you to laugh at him. for you to ridicule him. but you don't have it in you. you can't do that to him, you won't do that to him, not while he's next to you looking all afraid.

this whole time?

all those nights he let you grind against him until he was a moaning mess, all those times he pulled back right before things got too heated, you thought he was just teasing you, playing hard to get. but no. he was waiting.

everything all of a sudden makes sense to you now.

you crawl into his arms. "you're actually serious? like this isn't a joke?"

he wraps you up in a tight embrace and stays silent. doesn't meet your eyes. and the fact that he's so flustered? it does something to you. because this isn't the luigi you're used to.

this isn't the cocky little shit who you've been spending practically every free period messing around in your dorm with. this isn't the cocky little shit who leans too close, who smirks when he catches you staring, who always makes it seem like he's two steps ahead.

this is something else entirely.

he's looking at you now, almost as if he doesn't know what to do with himself. like he wants this so badly it hurts, but he's terrified of messing it up.

"luigi." you speak his name softly, like you're comforting a toddler who's on the brink of tears. "why didn't you tell me? you know i wouldn't have judged you..." you press a gentle kiss to his cheek to assert your point.

he swallows hard, and caresses the spot that you'd just kissed.

"because i knew you'd look at me like that."

you're confused again. "like what?"

he exhales sharply, resting his chin on your head. "because i thought you'd think that i’d need to be handled carefully... like you'd think i'd need special treatment or some shit."

you close your eyes and breathe him in. special treatment? that's not what you're thinking at all. poor baby. "lu i-"

he groans, rubbing your back. "i guess i was also... scared shitless." he adds quickly. "of... fucking it up. because i've really cherished the moments we've shared together. i kept putting it off because i kept thinking to myself that you'd ghost me afterwards."

your chest tightens and you look up at him. "you thought i'd ghost you after?"

his head snaps down to meet your gaze. "yeah... i kept telling myself that if we did have sex, you'd find me lame in bed and would never speak to me again. and i wouldn't want that because the way I feel about you... it's different. and i didn't wanna just rush into it you know what i mean?" he's speaking in a low, almost shy tone. "i wanted to make sure that when it finally happened, it was right... and tonight, it feels right."

you find yourself blushing at his admission and feel your heart beat faster. he's never been this forward and honest with you before.

"lu..." you tease, your lips curving into a playful smile. "so, you're saying that you've been stalling because you're a virgin and didn't wanna embarrass yourself?"

his goes red again. "yeah..."

you feel his arms tighten around you as you huff out a soft laugh. "you asshole! and here i was thinking you were playing hard to get!"

that gets a chuckle out of him, and the atmosphere shifts, the tension easing.

"yeah?" he smirks, cocky, but there's still something shy in the way he looks down at you.

"yeah," you say, hand dipping under his shirt to rub his abs, going just gently enough to make him shiver. "you had me losing my mind, thinking you were being a dickhead on purpose!"

he bites his lip as if he's trying not to laugh, but then his eyes darken, his expression shifts, and suddenly, whatever held him back before is gone.

"i don't want to keep you waiting anymore," he says, and it's not cocky, it's not teasing, it's authentic. he kisses your forehead, as if he's trying to ground himself. "but right now... i want it. i don't want to keep pretending like I'm not ready when i am."

you nuzzle into his chest and sigh contently. "so why now?"

"because i finally get it," he murmurs. "it's not about whether or not i'm good on the first go." he gives you another forehead kiss, making your cheeks turn scarlet once more. "it's about you. about us. and i don't want to wait anymore."

and with that, you kiss him.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

the kiss starts soft, familiar, his lips brushing yours with that quiet confidence you've come to know, but there's still a flicker of hesitation beneath it, a reminder that this is still new for him in so many ways. your hands slide up his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you pull him closer.

even though it's not the first time you've kissed each other like this, this one seems to hold a little more depth, a bit more of him surrendering to the moment. his lips press against yours, firm yet warm, and as he leans into it, you feel the stiffness in his shoulders melt away, settling into the familiar rhythm you've spent the last few months carving out together.

his breathing grows irregular, and the shake in his fingers sparks a thrill through you, another reminder that he's still finding his way with you. lost in the kiss, your balance shifts, and suddenly you're tumbling backward, pulling him with you as you both collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter.

"you alright?" he mumbles, voice all gravelly and soft, a crooked smirk pulling at his lips like he's still half lost in the chaos of the fall. you nod, the warmth of his closeness seeping into you, and before you can answer, he leans down again, pressing a softer kiss to the corner of your mouth less urgent this time, but no less deliberate. it's like he's savoring it now, the rush giving way to a quiet intensity that makes your chest tighten.

you feel his trembling hands snag the edge of your blouse. he tugs it up, slow like he's scared to break something, until it slips off and falls to the floor. he freezes, hands dangling in the air, eyes falling to your now exposed tits.

his breath hitches hard, cheeks blooming red as he stares, totally wrecked, the first time hes ever seen a girl this way.

"holy... shit." he mumbles, voice cracking, barely a whisper, and his fingertips ghost over your skin, shaky but reverent.

his fingertips linger, barely brushing your skin, and the silence stretches out, thick with the sound of his uneven breathing. you tilt your head, catching the way his eyes are still glued to you, wide and unblinking, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he looks away. "lu? what's wrong?" you ask, voice soft.

he blinks, startled, like you've pulled him out of a trance, and his hands jerk back an inch before he catches himself. his cheeks flare even redder, if that's possible, and he swallows hard, throat bobbing. "n-nothing's wrong," he stammers, voice rough and low, cracking on the edges. "it's just... you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen in my whole entire life."

the words spill out, raw and unguarded, and your own cheeks heat up, a flush creeping up your neck. "you don't mean that…” you mumble, looking away for a second, your voice small as the compliment sinks in and leaves you flustered.

he freezes, eyes widening even more, if that's possible, and shakes his head quickly. "no, i-i do!" insists, tripping over the words in his rush to get them out. "i swear, i mean it. you're... unreal." his gaze flickers up to meet yours, holding it for a shaky moment before dropping back down to your tits, locking onto your tits with that same stunned, unblinking gaze.

his voice comes out soft, almost timid. "can i...um... can i suck on 'em?" he pauses, face burning red, and his eyes flick up to yours for a split second before darting back down. "i've... i've always wanted to suck a girl's boobs..." he admits, voice cracking with nerves, and he bites his lip, hands twitching as if he's bracing for rejection.

"please? if that's okay? i just... i wanna make you feel good." the question hangs there, shy and earnest, wrapped in that same reverent, trembling adoration.

you swallow, heart thudding a little faster, and your voice comes out softer than you mean it to. “yeah… okay.” you say. the words slipping out before you can overthink them. your blush deepens, spreading warm across your skin, and you glance away for a second, suddenly hyper aware of the way his gaze is still glued to you.

his eyes snap up to yours, like he can’t believe what he just heard. “o-okay…” he stammers, voice cracking, and a tiny, shaky smile tugs at the corner of his lips, equal parts disbelief and awe. his hands flex, unsure where to go, and he shifts closer, tentative but eager, like he’s afraid to break the spell.

he leans in, slow and worshipful, his breath hot against your bare chest. his lips brush your skin first, tentative, pressing soft, shaky kisses across the swell of your tits, his mouth trembling. his hands rise, hesitant at first, then bolder, cupping your breasts gently. his fingers squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with a mix of curiosity and awe, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as a low, ragged groan escapes him. “fucking gorgeous…” he mutters to himself, voice thick and breaking, completely lost in you.

then, emboldened, he parts his lips and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. the sudden, firm pull sends a jolt of pleasure through you, sharp and electric, as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud, warm and slick against your skin.

his teeth graze ever so slightly as he pulls back with a soft, lewd pop before diving back in, sucking greedily. his other hand keeps squeezing, fingers digging in just enough to feel desperate, and his breath comes in hot, uneven bursts between each sloppy, reverent pull of his mouth.

after a moment, his confidence inches up, and he pulls back just enough to speak, lips still brushing your damp skin. his voice is low, almost drowned out by his nerves as he stumbles over his next thought. “could i… um… rub your clit too? while i’m… doing this?” his eyes dart up to yours, wide and pleading, his face somehow redder still.

“i-i read this book about, uh, women’s pleasure,” he blurts, words tripping over each other, “and it said foreplay’s important… like, to get women ready for sex. i just… i wanna make sure i’m doing it right.” his fingers twitch against your sides, restless and waiting, that same nervous, heartfelt devotion shining through every faltering word.

the air hums with a charged stillness, his ragged breaths weaving through the heat of the moment as his lips linger near your damp skin.

“lu.… do you even know where the clit is?” you ask as your blush burns hotter, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you watch him. his eyes widen for a split second, caught off guard, but then something shifts in his expression.

he swallows hard, adams apple bobbing, and his voice comes out low, still shaky but with a thread of assurance. “y-yeah, i do,” he says, nodding quickly as if to convince himself as much as you. “i mean… i read about it, y’know? in that book. it’s… uh… it’s up near the top, right? like, where it’s real sensitive?” his cheeks flare redder, but his gaze holds yours a little longer this time, earnest and unsteady, like he’s clinging to every word he’s memorized. “i-i think i can find it. i just… really wanna try. for you.”

his other hand trembles as it slides lower, fumbling over the edge of your panties. his fingers hook the soaked fabric, knuckles brushing the damp heat of your inner thigh, and he yanks them aside with a shaky jerk.

the cool air hits your slick, pulsing cunt, and his breath chokes off in a sharp gasp. he freezes, eyes dropping to the sight of your bare pussy glistening folds spread open, wet and swollen, your clit peeking out, begging for his touch. “oh fuck…” luigi rasps, voice breaking, a raw, reverent curse as he stares, completely fucking entranced.

his pupils dilate, swallowing the color of his eyes, and his mouth hangs slack, a thin thread of drool pooling at the corner as he takes in every slick, pink detail. “it’s… so fucking pretty.” he mutters, barely audible, like he’s witnessing something divine he’s too small to comprehend.

the words hit you like a punch, and your blush explodes even more than it did before, a fierce, burning heat flooding your cheeks, your neck, even your ears. you feel exposed, vulnerable, and impossibly flattered all at once, the raw awe in his voice making your skin prickle and your breathing irregular.

he’s just drinking you in, thumb hovering an inch from your throbbing clit, trembling like he’s scared to ruin the perfection in front of him. his other hand squeezes your tit harder, fingers sinking into the flesh as a lifeline, while his breath ghosts over your sensitive nipple. then, he snaps out of it, blinking fast, and his thumb presses down, grazing your clit in a clumsy, shaky swipe.

the contact sends a white hot spark up your spine, your hips twitching involuntarily, and he gasps again, eyes darting up to yours. “a-are you alright? am i doing a good job?” he asks, voice thick with panic and adoration, every syllable soaked in that nervous, aching need to please you, even as he’s still half lost in the dripping, mesmerizing sight of your cunt.

you nod fast, heart pounding, and force the words out between gasps. “yeah, you’re… you’re doing so good lu…” you pant, voice fraying as his thumb rubs harder, smearing your slick over your throbbing clit. the sensation is overwhelming, a white hot rush that makes your thighs quake and your pussy clench, a fresh gush of arousal coating his fingers. your head lolls back, a guttural whimper spilling out as your body arches into him, chasing every stroke.

his breath snags at your praise, a shaky huff of relief, and his eyes spark with a mix of awe and hunger. “fuck… really?” he mutters, a trembling grin flashing across his lips.

he dives back to your chest, mouth latching onto your tit with a wet, hungry pull, sucking your nipple deep into his mouth. his tongue lashes over the swollen bud, teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine, while spit trails from his lips, leaving your skin slick and gleaming. his left hand kneads your breast that his mouth isn’t worshipping, fingers sinking into the soft flesh with rough, desperate squeezes, as he uses his free hand to keep rubbing your clit, each motion dragging you closer to the edge.

“wanna make you feel… so fucking good,” he groans against your tit, voice muffled and raw, the words vibrating through you as your body hums, every nerve alight with the filthy, fervent pleasure he’s wrenching from you.

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

minutes go by, and luigi now has three fingers spearing into your drenched cunt, thick and unforgiving, stretching your tight, quivering walls as he rams them in knuckle deep. the pace is brutal, a wet, obscene slosh echoing with every thrust as your slick floods his hand, running in hot sticky rivers down his fingers and splattering onto the sheets. your pussy grips his digits like a vice, spasming and gushing, the sopping mess of it coating his skin as he pleasures you, wild and unhinged.

how he’s nailing every perfect spot, driving you wild with precision despite being a virgin blows your mind. knowing the nerd that luigi is, you know for sure that he must’ve fucking DEVOURED a stack of books on female pleasure to get this damn good.

your moans claw out, ragged and animalistic, each one a shredded howl as pleasure twists into a vicious, coiling ache in your core. your hips buck hard against his hand, thighs trembling so fiercely they slap together, your body a shuddering, sweat drenched wreck.

but he’s moaning too, deep and primal, the sound tearing from his throat as his hips jerk helplessly, jeans bulging. his face twists, sweat pouring off his brow as he gasps like he’s choking, a fat, wet stain blooming across his crotch where his cock pulses and leaks, soaking through the fabric.

you catch him falling apart flushed, frantic, a trembling mess and rasp, “what’s wrong?” your voice a gravelly wreck, hands digging into his arms as your own edge sharpens.

luigi’s eyes snap open, and he groans, “you’re gonna make me fucking cum in my pants,” the words spilling out in a desperate, fractured whimper, “and you haven’t even touched me.”

his cock is throbbing so hard you can see it twitch through the drenched denim, pre cum oozing in thick, messy streaks.

“no, stop.” you snarl, voice raw and commanding, shoving him back, his fingers ripping free from your sloppy, pulsing cunt with a loud, wet suck. “fuck me instead.”

the words hit him like a slap, and he stalls, hands slick and shaking, jaw slack as he sucks in air. “y-yeah, fuck, alright,” he chokes, voice a ruined mess, clawing at his zipper with slippery, fumbling fingers, racing to unleash his swollen, dripping cock, the air thick with the hot, filthy promise of what’s about to go down.

you’re able to see it for the first time, and your eyes widen.

it’s massive, thick and veiny, flushed dark with need, the tip glistening with a fat bead of pre cum that drips obscenely. shock jolts through you, a fleeting thought of how the fuck is that fitting?

but there’s no time to process it. he’s already moving, hands rough and urgent as he grabs your hips, flipping you over with a grunt.

your stomach hits the surface, breath punching out of you as he manhandles you onto your belly, his slick fingers digging into your flesh, positioning you fast and messy, the raw hunger in his grip promising no pause, no mercy.

he keeps you pinned face down, his trembling hands clamping your hips with a bruising grip, fingernails carving crescent moons into your flesh. his swollen cock, thick and veiny, drags across your ass, leaving a hot, gooey smear of pre cum before he notches the fat, dripping head against your soaked entrance.

he hesitates, chest heaving with wet, shuddering breaths, and rasps, “you ready?” his voice a broken, guttural wreck.

“y-yes lu…” you stammer, voice half smothered against the mattress, your pussy throbbing, arousal pouring out as you tilt your hips toward him, needy but braced. he growls low in his throat, primal and ragged, and then he pushes in slowly, his cock splitting you apart, stretching your drenched cunt wide.

the burning, unrelenting stretch hits you hard, and you scream.

“fuck! i n-need a sec…” your voice trembles as your body quakes, struggling to adjust to the sheer, overwhelming size of him. your hole clenches hard, spasming around him.

while for luigi, it’s the first time he’s ever been inside a pussy, and the feeling slams into him like a tidal wave. “oh my g-god… fuck, fuck!” he whimpers, a high, shattered sound ripping from his chest as your hot, sopping heat wraps him tight, squeezing him in a slick, pulsing chokehold.

you twist your head, breathless, and croak, “you alright?” his hands shake violently on your hips, gripping harder, and he chokes out, “i didn’t know… didn’t know it’d feel this fucking good…” his voice splintering into a near sob, every nerve frying as your cunt hugs him, wet and molten, drowning him in the raw, mind bending bliss of finally being inside you.

he swallows hard, voice a shaky, guttural wreck, and mumbles “are you alright?” the words barely coherent, thick with desperation as he hovers on the edge, waiting for your answer.

you nod weakly. “yeah…” spilling from your lips, voice raw as your cunt throbs around him, caught between pain and a dark, blooming heat. that’s all he needs.

“fuck… i’m gonna start moving.” he groans, the sound splintering from his throat, and he starts to thrust. it’s slow at first, a torturous pull as he eases his thick, veiny shaft back, the swollen head dragging along your tender walls, stretching your dripping hole with a lewd, sucking tug that forces a ragged gasp from your chest.

then he slams back in, deep and merciless, his sheer bulk splitting you wider, profanities tearing from you as he fills you completely, balls slapping against your skin. the stretch bites, then melts into something jagged and electric, your pussy gripping him like a drenched, ravenous fist, slurping noisily.

“holy… shit, it’s too much” he whines, voice cracking into a high, frantic wail, hips jerking forward with rising need, each thrust a sloppy, vicious plunge that stuffs you to the brim. your juices gush out, glazing his cock in a shiny, wet sheen, splashing in hot, messy streaks down your thighs and over his groin as he drives into you, the loud, wet smack of his pounding echoing through the room.

you scream, voice raw and splintered, fingers clawing at the surface beneath you, nails gouging deep as your hips jerk back to meet his thrusts, craving the savage depth even through the sting. his hands grip tighter, nails leaving angry red marks in your skin.

“fuck… feels like heaven…” he moans he rams into you, lost in the tight, dripping grip of your cunt, his first, sucking him in deep, wringing him dry, every thrust setting his nerves ablaze. his rhythm quickens, slow, teasing drags morphing into wild, frantic snaps, his hips slamming into your ass with loud, wet smacks.

suddenly, his hand rears back and lands a sharp, stinging slap across your ass cheek, the crack ringing out as your skin jiggles and a hot, red flush blooms under his palm. you scream again, a sharp “oh shit!" bursting from your lips. your body jolts forward and your pussy clenches tighter around him in reflex, a wild mix of shock and pleasure ripping through you.

“christ... this pussy's insane…" he pants, voice a trembling, slurred wreck, his cock hammering deeper, stretching you to breaking as your cunt squishes and gushes around him.

minutes dissolve into a sweaty, moaning blur, and then he collapses onto your back with a guttural grunt, his weight crushing you flat as he shifts into pronebone. his chest molds to your spine, his hot, panting breaths blasting your neck as he keeps fucking you, faster and harder, his cock slamming deep with every savage thrust.

“can’t… stop…” he whimpers, voice breaking into a sob, arm wrapping around your neck like a steel band, trapping you beneath him as he pounds your cunt into submission, your ass rippling with each violent, wet collision, the overwhelming feel of him… so huge, so deep… shattering any last shred of composure you had.

his lips crash onto your neck, wet, frantic and ravenous. he kisses you there, sloppy and wild, his tongue lashing out to lap at the sweat beading on your flesh, teeth scraping as he groans deep into your skin, and you feel the sound going through your bones. his thrusts never slow, each one a brutal slam, his cock splitting you wide, the swollen head battering your cervix with a force that makes your vision blur.

you’re moaning like a pornstar and your cunt is clenching so tight it’s like you’re trying to milk him dry.

“shit! i’m so close!” he growls against your neck, each word punctuated by a messy kiss, his lips smearing spit across your skin as his hips falter, thrusts turning wilder, even more frantic than before. his cock throbbing violently inside you. “i’m gonna cum-” he grunts, his arm’s grip around your throat tightening, his dick pulsing hot and thick, teetering on the brink.

and you feel it. the hard, rhythmic twitching, the way he swells even bigger inside your wrecked cunt. “cum inside me! please lu…” you sob, voice a hoarse, pleading wail.

your nails claw at the mattress, legs shaking uncontrollably, a high pitched whine escaping as the overstimulation makes your whole body quake. his breath snags, a choked sound ripping from him as he pounds you with frantic, bone rattling thrusts, right on the edge of shattering.

and then you feel it. his hips jam tight against your ass, and his cock pulses hard, flooding your wrecked cunt with a thick, blistering rush of cum. the heat crashes into you, raw and overpowering, his seed pumping in heavy, forceful jets, stuffing you so full it presses against your walls, a surge that makes your pussy clamp down and milk every last drop from him.

he whimpers, his thrusts stuttering to a stop as the final drops empty into you, his body quaking against yours. before you can catch your breath, his shaky hands fumble to your hips, yanking your soaked panties back into place with a hurried, sloppy pull.

the fabric snaps against your skin, locking his cum inside, and almost instantly, you feel the hot, sticky load seeping out, leaking past your swollen, aching lips, soaking the crotch of your underwear in a thick, dripping mess that clings to your thighs. you whimper softly, overwhelmed, your cunt still spasming from the intensity, reeling from the fullness and the filthy, oozing aftermath.

panting heavily, you drag yourself forward on trembling limbs, crawling under the covers and sinking into the soft refuge of the blankets. the bed dips as he follows, slipping in beside you, his warm, sweaty body brushing against yours. you roll over to face him, your breath still uneven, and his arms immediately open, pulling you in tight.

he wraps himself around you, chest pressed to yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as he peppers your forehead with soft, lingering kisses, his lips trembling slightly. his other arm snakes around your waist, holding you like you're his lifeline, his legs tangling with yours in a clumsy, needy knot.

he’s all soft now, an obvious shift from the wild frenzy of before, his face nuzzling into your hair as he lets out a quiet, shaky whimper. “how are you?” he murmurs, voice small and fragile, laced with a tender worry as he pulls back just enough to search your eyes, his own wide and glistening, like a nervous pup checking for approval. he presses his forehead to yours, still clinging tight, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

you catch your breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you nod. “i feel great.” you say, voice soft but steady, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart.

“that was… intense. you’re wild, you know that?” your tone lightens, teasing, and he blushes hard, ducking his head with a sheepish grin.

“i-i didn’t know it’d be that good…” he stutters, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers tracing shy circles on your back. “i just… i wanted to make you feel good. was it… was i okay?” his eyes flick up, hopeful and uncertain, and you can’t help but giggle, the sound bubbling up soft and warm.

“not bad for a virgin.” you tease, smirking as his blush deepens, spreading across his cheeks like wildfire. he whines, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide, but you feel the little laugh he lets out, muffled against your skin.

“stop…” he mumbles, half embarrassed, half playful, his arms tightening around you as he nuzzles closer. “i just… read a lot, i guess. wanted to get it right.” his voice softens, earnest now, and he peeks up at you, a shy smile breaking through.

"you're amazing, though. i still can't believe that just happened." he kisses your forehead again, slow and sweet, settling into you with a contented sigh, like a clingy, soft baby who's finally found his safe place.

he pulls back slightly, eyes shining, and whispers, “i love you.” voice steady yet raw.

your heart leaps, a wild surge of joy flooding you, and you grin, breathless. “i love you too.”

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🌷͙⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

I SPENT TWO WEEKS WRITING THIS SO U ALL BETTER GOBBLE IT UP NICE AND GOOD.

previous work | masterlist

[muffinlance]

would you mind talking about how you (currently) back up fanfics to read when AO3 is down? I've been thinking about trying it myself (now that I have a hard disk with enough space) but I have no idea how.

Le current system (all programs are free):

Get yourself Calibre (available for every OS)

Install the FanFicFare plugin, which allows you to go to any page on AO3 (and dozens of other sites) and download every fic there in the background while you do other things with your life

Profit. AKA: Archive every fic you even vaguely like because fics are text-based and take up barely any space, and calibre allows searching by tags similarly to AO3. I personally just bookmark everything I read and liked, and then periodically run FanFicFare on my newest bookmark pages. There is really no need to be discriminating here; I have never regretted having Moar Fics, and calibre makes things exceptionally searchable (and you can customize the tags once you've downloaded, for further fic findability)

When I was on Windows I preferred AO3downloader, which runs on Python and can go through all your bookmarks without input from you (FanFicFare needs to be told what the next page is; AO3 Downloader just starts at page 1 and goes until the page you tell it to stop on); AO3 Downloader also uses AO3's original download format (it literally just automates hitting the site's download button), whereas FanFicFare does a custom output (which you can tweak if desired, but it will never be exactly the same. Note that it works totally fine out of the box I'm just grumpy it's not Exactly The Same.) I couldn't get AO3 Downloader working on Linux, alas.

(If anyone knows how to get AO3 Downloader working on Linux Mint, or knows a calibre plugin that just automates clicking the AO3 download button, do please let me know.)

[komaedalovemail]

komaedas have you tried straw.page?

(i hope you don't mind if i make a big ollllle webdev post off this!)

i have never tried straw.page but it looks similar to carrd and other WYSIWYG editors (which is unappealing to me, since i know html/css/js and want full control of the code. and can't hide secrets in code comments.....)

my 2 cents as a web designer is if you're looking to learn web design or host long-term web projects, WYSIWYG editors suck doodooass. you don't learn the basics of coding, someone else does it for you! however, if you're just looking to quickly host images, links to your other social medias, write text entries/blogposts, WYSIWYG can be nice.

toyhouse, tumblr, deviantart, a lot of sites implement WYSIWYG for their post editors as well, but then you can run into issues relying on their main site features for things like the search system, user profiles, comments, etc. but it can be nice to just login to your account and host your information in one place, especially on a platform that's geared towards that specific type of information. (toyhouse is a better example of this, since you have a lot of control of how your profile/character pages look, even without a premium account) carrd can be nice if you just want to say "here's where to find me on other sites," for example. but sometimes you want a full website!

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neocities hosting

currently, i host my website on neocities, but i would say the web2.0sphere has sucked some doodooass right now and i'm fiending for something better than it. it's a static web host, e.g. you can upload text, image, audio, and client-side (mostly javascript and css) files, and html pages. for the past few years, neocities' servers have gotten slower and slower and had total blackouts with no notices about why it's happening... and i'm realizing they host a lot of crypto sites that have crypto miners that eat up a ton of server resources. i don't think they're doing anything to limit bot or crypto mining activity and regular users are taking a hit.

↑ page 1 on neocitie's most viewed sites we find this site. this site has a crypto miner on it, just so i'm not making up claims without proof here. there is also a very populated #crypto tag on neocities (has porn in it tho so be warned...).

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dynamic/server-side web hosting

$5/mo for neocities premium seems cheap until you realize... The Beautiful World of Server-side Web Hosting!

client-side AKA static web hosting (neocities, geocities) means you can upload images, audio, video, and other files that do not interact with the server where the website is hosted, like html, css, and javascript. the user reading your webpage does not send any information to the server like a username, password, their favourite colour, etc. - any variables handled by scripts like javascript will be forgotten when the page is reloaded, since there's no way to save it to the web server. server-side AKA dynamic web hosting can utilize any script like php, ruby, python, or perl, and has an SQL database to store variables like the aforementioned that would have previously had nowhere to be stored.

there are many places in 2024 you can host a website for free, including: infinityfree (i use this for my test websites :B has tons of subdomains to choose from) [unlimited sites, 5gb/unlimited storage], googiehost [1 site, 1gb/1mb storage], freehostia [5 sites/1 database, 250mb storage], freehosting [1 site, 10gb/unlimited storage]

if you want more features like extra websites, more storage, a dedicated e-mail, PHP configuration, etc, you can look into paying a lil shmoney for web hosting: there's hostinger (this is my promocode so i get. shmoney. if you. um. 🗿🗿🗿) [$2.40-3.99+/mo, 100 sites/300 databases, 100gb storage, 25k visits/mo], a2hosting [$1.75-12.99+/mo, 1 site/5 databases, 10gb/1gb storage], and cloudways [$10-11+/mo, 25gb/1gb]. i'm seeing people say to stay away from godaddy and hostgator. before you purchase a plan, look up coupons, too! (i usually renew my plan ahead of time when hostinger runs good sales/coupons LOL)

here's a big webhost comparison chart from r/HostingHostel circa jan 2024.

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domain names

most of the free website hosts will give you a subdomain like yoursite.has-a-cool-website-69.org, and usually paid hosts expect you to bring your own domain name. i got my domain on namecheap (enticing registration prices, mid renewal prices), there's also porkbun, cloudflare, namesilo, and amazon route 53. don't use godaddy or squarespace. make sure you double check the promo price vs. the actual renewal price and don't get charged $120/mo when you thought it was $4/mo during a promo, certain TLDs (endings like .com, .org, .cool, etc) cost more and have a base price (.car costs $2,300?!?). look up coupons before you purchase these as well!

namecheap and porkbun offer something called "handshake domains," DO NOT BUY THESE. 🤣🤣🤣 they're usually cheaper and offer more appealing, hyper-specific endings like .iloveu, .8888, .catgirl, .dookie, .gethigh, .♥, .❣, and .✟. I WISH WE COULD HAVE THEM but they're literally unusable. in order to access a page using a handshake domain, you need to download a handshake resolver. every time the user connects to the site, they have to provide proof of work. aside from it being incredibly wasteful, you LITERALLY cannot just type in the URL and go to your own website, you need to download a handshake resolver, meaning everyday internet users cannot access your site.

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hosting a static site on a dynamic webhost

you can host a static (html/css/js only) website on a dynamic web server without having to learn PHP and SQL! if you're coming from somewhere like neocities, the only thing you need to do is configure your website's properties. your hosting service will probably have tutorials to follow for this, and possibly already did some steps for you. you need to point the nameserver to your domain, install an SSL certificate, and connect to your site using FTP for future uploads. FTP is a faster, alternative way to upload files to your website instead of your webhost's file upload system; programs like WinSCP or FileZilla can upload using FTP for you.

if you wanna learn PHP and SQL and really get into webdev, i wrote a forum post at Mysidia Adoptables here, tho it's sorted geared at the mysidia script library itself (Mysidia Adoptables is a free virtual pet site script, tiny community. go check it out!)

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file storage & backups

a problem i have run into a lot in my past like, 20 years of internet usage (/OLD) is that a site that is free, has a small community, and maybe sounds too good/cheap to be true, has a higher chance of going under. sometimes this happens to bigger sites like tinypic, photobucket, and imageshack, but for every site like that, there's like a million of baby sites that died with people's files. host your files/websites on a well-known site, or at least back it up and expect it to go under!

i used to host my images on something called "imgjoe" during the tinypic/imageshack era, it lasted about 3 years, and i lost everything hosted on there. more recently, komaedalovemail had its webpages hosted here on tumblr, and tumblr changed its UI so custom pages don't allow javascript, which prevented any new pages from being edited/added. another test site i made a couple years ago on hostinger's site called 000webhost went under/became a part of hostinger's paid-only plans, so i had to look very quickly for a new host or i'd lose my test site.

if you're broke like me, looking into physical file storage can be expensive. anything related to computers has gone through baaaaad inflation due to crypto, which again, I Freaquing Hate, and is killing mother nature. STOP MINING CRYPTO this is gonna be you in 1 year

...um i digress. ANYWAYS, you can archive your websites, which'll save your static assets on The Internet Archive (which could use your lovely donations right now btw), and/or archive.today (also taking donations). having a webhost service with lots of storage and automatic backups can be nice if you're worried about file loss or corruption, or just don't have enough storage on your computer at home!

if you're buying physical storage, be it hard drive, solid state drive, USB stick, whatever... get an actual brand like Western Digital or Seagate and don't fall for those cheap ones on Amazon that claim to have 8,000GB for $40 or you're going to spend 13 days in windows command prompt trying to repair the disk and thenthe power is gong to go out in your shit ass neighvborhood and you have to run it tagain and then Windows 10 tryes to update and itresets the /chkdsk agin while you're awayfrom town nad you're goig to start crytypting and kts just hnot going tot br the same aever agai nikt jus not ggiog to be the saeme

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further webhosting options

there are other Advanced options when it comes to web hosting. for example, you can physically own and run your own webserver, e.g. with a computer or a raspberry pi. r/selfhosted might be a good place if you're looking into that!

if you know or are learning PHP, SQL, and other server-side languages, you can host a webserver on your computer using something like XAMPP (Apache, MariaDB, PHP, & Perl) with minimal storage space (the latest version takes up a little under 1gb on my computer rn). then, you can test your website without needing an internet connection or worrying about finding a hosting plan that can support your project until you've set everything up!

there's also many PHP frameworks which can be useful for beginners and wizards of the web alike. WordPress is one which you're no doubt familiar with for creating blog posts, and Bluehost is a decent hosting service tailored to WordPress specifically. there's full frameworks like Laravel, CakePHP, and Slim, which will usually handle security, user authentication, web routing, and database interactions that you can build off of. Laravel in particular is noob-friendly imo, and is used by a large populace, and it has many tutorials, example sites built with it, and specific app frameworks.

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addendum: storing sensitive data

if you decide to host a server-side website, you'll most likely have a login/out functionality (user authentication), and have to store things like usernames, passwords, and e-mails. PLEASE don't launch your website until you're sure your site security is up to snuff!

when trying to check if your data is hackable... It's time to get into the Mind of a Hacker. OWASP has some good cheat sheets that list some of the bigger security concerns and how to mitigate them as a site owner, and you can look up filtered security issues on the Exploit Database.

this is kind of its own topic if you're coding a PHP website from scratch; most frameworks securely store sensitive data for you already. if you're writing your own PHP framework, refer to php.net's security articles and this guide on writing an .htaccess file.

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but. i be on that phone... :(

ok one thing i see about straw.page that seems nice is that it advertises the ability to make webpages from your phone. WYSIWYG editors in general are more capable of this. i only started looking into this yesterday, but there ARE source code editor apps for mobile devices! if you have a webhosting plan, you can download/upload assets/code from your phone and whatnot and code on the go. i downloaded Runecode for iphone. it might suck ass to keep typing those brackets.... we'll see..... but sometimes you're stuck in the car and you're like damn i wanna code my site GRRRR I WANNA CODE MY SITE!!!

↑ code written in Runecode, then uploaded to Hostinger. Runecode didn't tell me i forgot a semicolon but Hostinger did... i guess you can code from your webhost's file uploader on mobile but i don't trust them since they tend not to autosave or prompt you before closing, and if the wifi dies idk what happens to your code.

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ANYWAYS! HAPPY WEBSITE BUILDING~! HOPE THIS HELPS~!~!~!

-Mod 12 @eeyes

[fivetrench]

New Wings of Fire sona wow wow wow

His name is Bulrush & he’s a Mudwing/Nightwing hybrid with xanthochromism, which is why he has a pale yellow complexion. I’ll put some more stuff about him below the image description :3

[Image Description: Two digital drawings of a dragon character, the first is a headshot and the second is a full-body illustration. The dragon has various shades of light yellow/green scales, with dark green horns, orange eyes, and long, off-white spines. There are a few small dots of green scales on his face. He has small, circular earrings that match his black lip piercings. In the first drawing, he is depicted looking to the left with a neutral expression. To his left is a piece of text that reads “Bulrush (he/him)”. Below the text is three pride flags, the transmasculine, nonbinary, and aroace flags. Below that is a small color palette, containing all of the dragon’s colors. The background of the drawing is solid white. The second drawing is a full-body image of the dragon, who is looking to the left with the same neutral expression. He’s standing in place, his tail slightly curled upwards and his wings partially folded at his sides. The membrane of his wings is dark green with a few off-white stars speckled near the joints. The background of the drawing is an orange similar to the color of his eyes, and he is outlined in a lighter version of the orange. End ID.]

More info on him below!

Bulrush is a very weak seer, his only ability is getting “feelings” of when bad things are about to happen. Basically there’s always a little hum of dread in his mind, which increases when in crowds, during conflict, right before events, etc. He doesn’t get visions but he does have nightmares, mostly of wildly unrealistic possible futures. He’s very pessimistic and antisocial, both because of his abilities and because he’s just like that. His anxiety and powers kind of merge into a weird mess of symptoms that can’t be differentiated from each other (e.g., his nightmares, increased dread when in crowds, etc). He works as an entomologist in the outskirts of the rainforest, identifying, cataloguing, and preserving insects. He lives in a small hut that’s closer to the Mud Kingdom, where he keeps all of his collections. He prefers the company of bugs and animals over dragons and has a pet Burmese python named Prince (based off of my ball python, Princely :3). Prince is his only official pet, but he often feeds the animals near his home and has names for them. He’s never met his father, a Nightwing named Snaketail, who left Bulrush and his mother when he was an egg. He has a good relationship with his mom, a Mudwing named Crayfish, and visits her in the Mud Kingdom frequently. I’m not sure what I’m going to do for him story-wise, but I’ll probably give him a Rainwing friend since he’s in the rainforest so much!

[tomatomagica]

just woke up from a bizarro nightmare:

i found a visual novel adjacent indie game called "All-in One", made by a tumblr user techy-vrissy or something like that; naturally i wanted to stream it (i had my OBS open and running the whole time, giving me immense anxiety throughout the nightmare)

it was a very niche game, so i wanted to make it more known by making a carrd for it with links to download it as well as synopsis and character info

for some reason i only had a free unvoiced version and wanted to get a premium paid one with professional voice over by japanese anime studio

that's where the weird stuff began - every time i googled the name of the game, it would glitch the page into something scary and unsettling (the two distinct examples i remember is a fake chinese food restraunt order with 4th wall jokes throughout it, and AI-generated pictures of interiors made entirely out of dogs textures but it looked more like gore than a funny collage)

at some point i also for some reason accidentally re-named a handful of characters in the unvoiced version and wanted to change them back, and that took forever to figure

some character names i remember were The D°g Boy and Paripi Bitch Ren (okay then...)

no matter what i did i couldn't find a page to download the game at all, not even the version i had initially so i could at least restore the names to the original ones

in the end i found that apparently the game was coded, and i cannot stress enough the absurdity of it, by writing thousands upon thousands of Reddit comments with character text, image links and movement descriptions python-style in unending reply chain

i found the links eventually on a forum made by the creator and the top pinned post was "3000 frequently asked questions"

there i read that it couldn't be downloaded for Windows anymore, it was discontinued in favor of an experimental operating system similar to Mac, that risked everything being wiped off my computer during the installation process and required a pretty beefy hardware that I didn't have

i woke up really angry and sore

[shironezuninja]

Old balding dude from the live action American 1970’s Spidey-Kun TV series lacked a toupee, but sounded like the late Ed Asner.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MANAGEMENT

Seed firms differ from angels and VCs in that they invest relatively small amounts at early stages, but like VCs in that they invest relatively small amounts at early stages, but like VCs in that they're companies that do it as a company. I'm not sure what happened to Dropbox. A lot of startups; it would not be for most biotech startups, for example, allow founders to cash out partially by selling some of their stock direct to the VC firm. It's the same with acquisitions. The idea of them making startup investments is comic. I think they increase when you face harder problems and also when you have smarter programmers. These are some of the big hits. Indeed, the biggest danger is that it makes your life a lot simpler. Within the hacker subculture, there is another, newer language, called Python, whose users tend to look down on Perl, and more waiting in the wings. I should explain what it means to be biased against applicants of type x. They were subsidiaries—of Beckman Instruments and Fairchild Camera and Instrument respectively. But having ideas is not very parallelizable.

Which means n i-1/i. Explain that clearly to investors. The whole language there all the time, trying to find an optimal balance between two things he knows nothing whatsoever about technology, you start to get users. You already know them. For example, it might be a rich market, but with a slow sales cycle. Reading Fred's post made me go back and look at the world of programming languages, as Erann Gat has pointed out, what industry best practice actually gets you is not the limit you can physically endure. The main thing that struck me on reading it, actually, is that you lie to yourself. But don't let them or the situation intimidate you. The really dramatic growth happens when a startup takes serious funding is that the percentage of the income for the extra peace of mind. And yet he seems pretty commanding, doesn't he?

That's the best-case scenario. The added confidence that comes from trying to help the world. I was in grad school, one of the preceding five sources. But they're also desperate for deals. You're better off starting with a blank slate in the form of a small town. That's the best-case scenario. So the smaller the number of officially sanctioned projects that manage to do all eight things wrong.

The startup, remember, only has a couple thousand left. Competitors punch you in the jaw, but investors. What it takes is the right one to do it is the cool, new programming language. Being profitable ensures you'll get at least the average of the acquisition market—in which public companies do behave as pooled-risk company management companies existed, signing up with one would seem the ideal plan for most people the latter is merely the optimal case of the former. There is no middle ground. If any incompatibility arises, you can just walk in whenever you want and say manage my rental property for me and they'll do it. Y Combinator started in Boston, and for the first 3 years we ran alternating batches in Boston and Silicon Valley. Most programming probably consists of writing little glue programs, and for little glue programs you can use whatever languages you want.

[corseque]

@selemchant @noxconsortium

Here's a breakdown of what I did

I went through the ">conversations" section, looking for which files actually made up the dialogue trees. It's a little different than Inquisition, but I eventually found that they seem to be within the "FC_ConvFlowLayer" files.

Frosty actually has the strings linked correctly within these files, but it's very cumbersome to look at in Frosty. I wanted to make it easier to read. When you export these FC_ConvFlowLayer files, they are .xml files that link to numbers instead of strings.

When you export the raw script of DAV from Frosty Editor, every line is paired with the same matching little numbers (minus the first "0x" for some reason).

The raw script is a .csv file that looks like this:

So I added an "0x" to every line of the .csv file (so they would match) and then made a python program that found all the strings within the <StringId></StringId> tags in all the xml files, and then looked up the matching number in the Raw Script .csv file and then saved the second column (the text) from the .csv file into the .xml files.

So now instead of numbers, I have strings:

Now, these .xml files have a lot of information in them that someone smarter than me could figure out how to make a comprehensive dialogue tree out of, because I think all of the information you would need is provided by the xml files. But that's hard and for now I just wanted a .txt file of who spoke what line.

It wasn't hard from there to write another little program to extract just the speaker and the lines into a plain .txt file

And then to merge all the text files together and use notepad++ and the power of regular expressions to clean them even more:

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO PLAY AROUND WITH THE .XML FILES THAT HAVE THE NUMBERS REPLACED WITH STRINGS but that still have all the conversation information intact, like how each of the lines are linked to each other, I uploaded them here on google drive (there are 1500 files, but they're pretty small):

LINK TO THE XML FILES FOR YOU TO DO WHAT YOU WANT WITH

[shitouttabuck]

"picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face" for bucktommy or buddie? 👀

everything’s growing in our garden

buck/eddie | 2k | read on ao3

It’s a Saturday afternoon and Eddie is muddy-kneed and sweaty in his backyard, grass stains all down his jeans and freshly-dug dirt clinging to multiple senses—gritty between his fingers, scent mellow and earthy, in through his nose and settling soft on the back of his tongue.

The fact that it’s a Saturday afternoon on his day off is only relevant when presented with the combination of factors that find him alone in his garden today. First, he’s a dad to a teenager who has much less embarrassing things to do than hang out with his father on a weekend. Second, his two closest friends are dating each other. Third, Eddie’s not dating anybody.

So here he is, carefully planting winter squashes in the stretch of soil he’s just worked, because this is a new phase of life for him and things are changing for the different. They’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, he just doesn’t want to—get left behind. Stagnate. Hence, gardening. Maybe a little on the nose in terms of growth metaphors, but hey, he’s doing it, and that’s what counts. He thinks.

He spent a few weeks struggling to put a name to the new anxiety, or anxiety-adjacent twist in his stomach that made itself known after Buck came out to him. Not that night—that night was surprise and joy and this almost debilitating tidal wave of love he tried to wrap Buck up in when he strode across the loft into that hug.

But the next day, when Buck texted him that Tommy agreed to meet for coffee and talk? Something uncomfortable wrapped itself around Eddie’s insides, a python-grip of pressure, and it’s only gotten tighter since.

He entertained the idea that this time around maybe it was him who was jealous, his friend and his best friend dating each other and having less time for him. Except that’s not anywhere close to true—sure, his Saturday afternoons are a little emptier, but neither Buck nor Tommy have lessened the time they spend with Eddie on the whole. There’s still Muay Thai and basketball, there’s still homemade dinners and beers and movies on the couch. There’s nothing to be jealous of—he still has them both in the same capacity he always has.

Which is when he plucked at whatever tendril of envy had him in knots, following it back to the root. Watching Buck blush like a teenager in the face of Tommy’s earnest smooth-talking. Tommy absently reaching for Buck’s hand and intertwining their fingers when he drops by the station while they’re on shift. The way Buck seems to unconsciously sway into Tommy’s orbit, like a Great Dane who’s forgotten they’re too big for lap-sitting.

Maybe the thing Eddie was envious of, then, is less the replacement of a friend and more the lack of any of this, any of the easy affection, in his own relationship. Marisol was nice, kind, fine, but Eddie—he doesn’t regret ending things because he so badly wants to believe in more than fine for himself.

Marisol had looked almost relieved that she didn’t have to pull the ripcord on their relationship herself, confirming Eddie’s inkling that there was pretty much no coming back after he asked her to move out not one day post-moving-in. It’s a memory that’s going to make him wince for several years at least.

He ended up naming the ache, yanking off the mask like a Scooby-Doo villain reveal to look it in the eye. Oh, he’d thought, smoothing away a smear of soot on Buck’s nose, realisation just late enough that his hands remained steady in their obliviousness. This is the easy affection, isn’t it.

Buck’s nose crinkled with amusement and the knot in Eddie’s stomach loosened for half a second before coiling tight again, uncaring of his revelation. And, he supposes, that’s fair, because it’s not like this knowledge changes anything. Eddie can’t believe in the Universe because that’s a quick jaunt to feeling personally victimised by all of it, this singularly unbearable tragedy of timing in particular.

He's not surprised it took Buck to make him realise he’s—not straight. He hasn’t even let himself think about it, not really. The fact that it’s Buck is enough to anchor him from the alarm of a sexuality crisis. Nothing about loving Buck could ever be that scary. Still, the rest of it remains only in the recesses of his mind. He’s—on his way. He just doesn’t think he can struggle through a—a complete identity overhaul at the same time he’s struggling to make his peace with the fact that Tommy makes Buck really happy, and Eddie can’t ever be someone who puts that at risk. That Eddie’s lost Buck before he even realised he wanted him this much at all.

So. Things are changing, things are different, and Eddie has to keep moving. He still has Buck and Tommy in the same capacity he always has. He just has to come to terms with wanting more and not being able to ask for it. Letting yourself want is a slippery slope, because believing you can want and believing you can have are two different things. He’s allowed to want, but he’s not allowed to have. For now, he digs his hands into the soil, deliberate and reaching. In four months, he’ll have winter squashes. Buck will teach him that delicious soup recipe they tried last year. Eddie won’t be stuck in this moment forever.

The backdoor squeaks something awful when Buck slides it open jerkily. Eddie looks up, surprised.

“Hey,” he says, scratching at his nose. “What’re you doing here? Thought you had a lunch date.”

“I did,” Buck nods, flopping himself down on the lawn beside Eddie. “Finished early. I texted you, but I guess your phone’s inside.” He eyes Eddie’s dirt-streaked hands. “Thought I’d come see what you’re up to anyway.”

“Gardening,” Eddie tells him helpfully, and he grins.

“And here I thought you were just playing in the mud.”

Eddie flicks the dirt on his hands at Buck. He just beams up at Eddie, afternoon sun washing him the kind of golden that makes Eddie’s breath catch a little.

“What’re you planting?”

“Squash,” Eddie says, shaking the brightly coloured packet of seeds at him. “How’s Tommy?”

Buck blinks at him. “You saw him, like, two days ago.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie says, sinking his hands into the raked soil for something to do. “Like—how’s dating him going?”

“Oh,” Buck says, brow scrunching for the barest second before he nods. “Good. It’s—I really like him.”

“Good,” Eddie breathes, gut-snake squeezing and squeezing inside him.

They’re quiet for a minute, bird song and breeze winding around them, and then Buck asks, “Do you, uh. Do you talk to Tommy about me, too?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, studying the dirt before him.

“Like. Do you ask Tommy how things are going with dating me?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “No. No, I don’t. Why?”

Buck shrugs, picking at stalks of grass. “Why not? We’re both your friends.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” Buck sits up.

Eddie tips some more seeds into his palm before depositing them into the next hole. “No, it’s not. Buck, you—obviously it’s different.”

“But why?” Buck presses. “I know your friendship is, like, foundationed on macho men stereotypes, but c’mon. Neither of you are capable of not, I don’t know, talking about more sensitive stuff, I guess.”

Eddie sighs at the dirt.

“Why is it different?”

“It’s different ’cause it’s you,” Eddie says. He doesn’t need to look at Buck to know he’s slow-blinking in confusion.

“W-why? You don’t think you have to put up some kind of front—with Tommy?”

“Why is this bothering you so much? Do you want me to be talking to Tommy about you?”

He finally looks at Buck, his life-ruiningly pink mouth ajar in surprise.

“N-no. Just—I don’t know.”

He’s wearing the same hang-dog expression he had been when he’d bodied Eddie at the pick-up game, half-surprise, half-misery. Eddie sighs again.

“Are you—are you worrying about something between the two of you? Because I don’t have to be in the middle of it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell me. That doesn’t mean I’m not on your side.”

“There’s no sides,” Buck shakes his head. “I wouldn’t make you pick anyway.”

Eddie groans and shoves Buck back down, flat on his back with big muddy handprints on his crisp blue shirt. “I’m always on your side, you idiot. Tommy’s great, but I’ve known the guy… what, two months? You’ve been my—for six years. You’ve been—it’s different.”

“Oh,” Buck grins, bright and broad, “is that why it’s different?”

Eddie ignores him. “Is there something going on, though? Did something happen?”

“No,” Buck shakes his head, sobering a little. “Not really. I really like him, I just—I don’t know if there’s… a future, you know? We’re both having fun, but I-I just don’t know how to have that conversation with him yet. Or… if he’s on the same page and it’s all okay.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. He turns the trowel over in his hands. “How come—what makes you think there’s no future with him?”

“There could be,” Buck amends. “I just—there could be something else.” He glances at Eddie and hurriedly adds, “I think there’s already… I think… you know?”

“No,” Eddie says truthfully. “But you know, which is all that matters.”

Buck exhales softly. “Right. I’m just—I think I know what it’s supposed to look like. And Tommy is fucking—wonderful. I just—he’s not what my ending looks like.”

He looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes, and there’s something in there just as vulnerable as the night he quietly told Eddie it was a date. Eddie doesn’t know how to translate it, bowled over by the wave of frustration at not being fluent in every one of Buck’s languages.

Except—he might still be, because all that’s there is this—expectation, a weighty, desperate hope for understanding. Like Buck’s waiting. And behind that, the steadiness of the safest place Eddie’s ever known.

“It’s different for me, with you and Tommy,” Eddie begins, “because it’s you. I can—I can listen to you talk about dating other people because—I know that, I’m used to that. But—listening to Tommy talk about what it’s like dating you? When I’m just—too late—”

He doesn’t know if he cuts himself off or if he’s interrupted by Buck’s ragged inhale. Either way, he’s silent, filling up the next little hole with soil.

“Eddie—”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Eddie mumbles. “I can’t—Buck—”

Buck sits back up and grabs him by his shoulders, turning him so they’re face-to-face. “Eddie.”

“I can’t,” Eddie says again, voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m—I haven’t even begun unpacking it, Buck.”

“Okay,” Buck nods. “Okay. I’m not asking for anything. Just—do you mean it? That’s all I need from you. Tell me if you mean it, Eddie, please—” His chest is heaving like he’s run ten blocks and not just been sprawled on Eddie’s lawn in the afternoon sun.

And the thing is, Buck asks for so little. He thinks he does the opposite, but everyone who’s ever loved Buck knows: Buck asks for so little. And he deserves the entire fucking world. So Eddie can spare one terrifying truth.

“There could be something else,” he echoes Buck’s earlier words. “And it’s—it’s already… it could be a really good fucking ending. I’m… I need some time to… but I think it could the right ending. For us.”

Buck swallows audibly, eyes bright when he ducks his head and nods. “S’much time as you need.”

Something in Eddie relaxes, stops constricting, takes a deep, gulping breath. He blinks quickly to stave off whatever emotion this is, sinking his hands into the last mound of dirt.

“They’ll be ready by September,” he tells Buck, a little thickly.

“September,” Buck nods. “Good month. Summer end. We can make soup.”

Eddie turns to him. “Not too long away?”

“Nah,” Buck says, hand coming up to cup Eddie’s face. Eddie freezes, but Buck’s just using the pad of his thumb to oh-so-gently brush away a smudge of dirt on Eddie’s cheek. He keeps holding Eddie’s face for a moment more before dropping his hand, shifting to examine Eddie’s neatly planted rows of squash seeds. “Besides. They’re, uh. Worth waiting for.”

“I hope so,” Eddie says softly.

Buck nudges his shoulder against Eddie’s, companionable and cross-legged beside each other in the grass. “I know so.”

[jeyneofpoole]

hello ro jeyneofpoole boatgirl. The fitzjames news has rocked my world and rotted my brain because I love a historical mystery solved. As a AMC terror and a real life terror fan, what texts would you recommend to someone who just watched amc terror and now wants to read the research on the real thing

i love love love when i get this question ok. if your first exposure to the franklin expedition was the terror i think your best jumping-off point is michael palin’s erebus: the story of a ship. yes he’s the guy from monty python, no he’s not a professional historian, but it’s entertaining and well-researched and a great way to familiarize yourself with the general concepts that other more elaborate texts will touch on. then you just GOTTA read dr. owen beattie’s frozen in time, it’s one of the most iconic pieces of franklin literature and the descriptions of the beechey exhumations are so near and dear to me. some of the lead stuff is on shaky legs now, but this book was revolutionary for the longest time. then there’s may we be spared to meet on earth edited by russell a. potter et. al., which is a collection of letters to and from members of the franklin expedition. after you’ve read the others listed here you’ll be crazy enough to cry over this one.

a more niche read that i just finished was david murphy’s arctic fox, which is a biography of leopold mcclintock and his arctic career. it’s super compelling and mcclintock lived a very interesting life and seemed like a pretty okay guy especially for the time; murphy does a really good job and i don’t see this one recommended at all but it’s actually good. there are some minor issues with some little details surrounding, like, the peglar papers, for example, but that’s what the other books are for. honorable mentions include (ie they’re on my shelf staring me down) ice ghosts by paul watson, unraveling the franklin mystery: inuit testimony by david c. woodman, the man who ate his boots by anthony brandt, james fitzjames: the mystery man of the franklin expedition by william battersby, and icebound in the arctic by michael smith. but do NOT and i mean do NOT under any circumstances read dan simmons’ absolute drivel that novel isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. just watch the show and read these. ok love you byeeeee