#text wall incoming

[theythemmer]

Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.

[hyydraworks]

I just received my little cow and I love him! Will leave a formal review. I wanted to ask out of professional/amateur curiosity, how do you price your works? If you’ve already answered this or if you’re not comfortable, no worries. I’m just curious since I know a lot goes into it.

Ah, so glad you enjoy your cow!

Okay so this is such an excellent question, really got me to thinking, and I hope this little pie chart helps in giving an answer.

These values might differ a little (electricity and photos are almost certainly less than 10% combined), but I think for me it's pretty close to these. Basically I give myself a theoretical hourly pay for making and glazing my guys, but then buffer that with cost of firing kilns, the time it takes to document my pieces for sale, and the materials that I need.

In addition one other factor in pricing that is sort of an invisible slice of this chart is making sure that when I am selling my pieces on consignment that I am still happy with the amount I am getting at a lower price break. If I'm only getting 55-60% of the profit from an item is that still meeting this pie charts requirements? A similar aspect is true to make sure I'm at least slightly factoring in Etsy fees.

A lot of this is learning, doing comparisons with other people's similar work, and rough estimates. I am not precisely timing myself with every creature, or constantly checking my electricity bill to calculate what 4 firings cost me, but I do know a large cow takes me about an hour to make while an itty bitty cow is 15-20 minutes.

And finally, I'm certainly not an expert! While I'm fortunate that selling ceramics has become the majority of my income, I'm still not quite full time at it and am learning erry day. So hope this makes sense, answers your question, and thank you again!

[starlightswordfight]

oh my god the newspaper additions to TNMN in what we're seeing so far has me SO fucking excited. I KNEW there were going to be cold war like tensions I KNEWWWW ITTTTTT

[scoundrellyfeline]

i was going to read some yesterday!!!

but i was super busy getting together a keynote for a club meeting im going to on the various homestuck albums and adding my fav examples in!!! i even made a playlist of these examples :PP

[i have half a mind to add a slide dedicated to how do i live bunny back in the box ver]

[eat-the-lemons]

What kind of plants would be your favorite characters?

Okay hot takes coming (also these aren't all of my favourite characters because there are so many of them, so to keep it short it's basically just the main characters of some more popular media I like)

Crowley would be some kind of potted houseplant for obvious reasons

Aziraphale would be an olive tree. I can't really tell you why but yes

Hannibal and Will would be two trees with their brances twisted together. The kind of tree is irrelevant

Abigail Hobbs would be wormwood

Sherlock and John would both be cacti

Edwin Payne is literally a barley field and Charles Rowland is a willow tree. And Monty is mint

Seymour Glass would be some kind of wildflower patch

Klaus Hargreeves would be a tiger lily & Viktor Hargreeves would be lily of the valley

Lila Pitts would be a venus flytrap

Morpheus would be a magnolia tree

Jack Twist would be currants and Ennis Del Mar would be raspberries

Todd Anderson would be some kind of pine and Neil Perry would be oak

Loth Beck would be lavender

Boka János would be a hyacinth and Nemecsek Ernő would be a daffodil

Nighty would be a copper beech tree and Sparker would be a sunflower

[chasing-bandages]

Chase wakes up to gentle rain showering his hands and hair.

Compared to the pounding storm he was subjected to earlier, it's quite the welcome change. He sits up groggily, reaching up to rub his eyes. His hands hit a familiar solid material, though.... as soon as he realizes what it is, he groans loudly.

Stupid fucking mask again, goddammit.... he thinks bitterly, the rainshower seeping through the mask's eye holes. It's not too much of an inconvenience, other than once again being quite a hassle to wash his face or eat again. But he was starting to enjoy the feeling of wind on his cheeks again.

Whatever, he thinks, enjoying the gentle rain. Chase looks around, seeing the dark cloud of rain, wind, and lightning in the distance. That must be where he died.... he, Dusk, Lennie, Steph, and Camila.

He wonders where they all spawned before remembering Dusk isn't from this world... she's probably not around anymore. Chase looks down bitterly, hugging his knees to his chest.

He's starting to really hate being alone like this.

That's something he never thought he'd think.... he likes being with his brothers or girlfriend, but aside from them, Chase prefers solitude and no one around.

None of them are here with him, though, and probably never will be. Chase is completely and utterly alone, with no hope of ever escaping or seeing any of his loved ones again.

Chase finds himself thinking of the others. He wouldn't ever admit to trusting any of them, but their company definitely makes him feel a little less alone. They're all just trying to survive, after all, just like him.

..... survive.....

Survival. Life. Death.

His mind drifts to Camila. To what she told him. It's faint and foggy in his memory from the alcohol, but the fragments loop in his mind.

He's still baffled by the logistics of it, how one's conscience actually gets inside the computer and how they stay alive even though they're dead in the real world.... but eventually, he pushes it aside. He's not smart enough to try and figure it out.

Chase still wonders what it feels like, though, to be Camila. He has so many questions, and also a rather unfortunate amount of sympathy for her situation.... how did she die? How old was she? What about her family?

Chase groans and stands up. He really, really, reallyreallyreallyreally hates her and hates that he's feeling any sympathy for her. She's a prick, a bitch, an asshole, a pain in the ass who's probably only keeping him alive as someone to bully. She's horrible, she's annoying, she's cruel, she's selfish, she's......

..... human. She's still human, and she's the only one who could even understand my situation.

Chase looks down at the wet, sandy ground, fingers picking at themselves. If it was anyone other than the bitch who betrayed him when he first arrived, maybe he'd be more willing to open up. But her? Why's it gotta be her of all people?

He walks in the direction of the storm, silently scolding himself each step of the way. Why the fuck am I doing this? I could just wait for a train. I could just lie down by the tracks and wait for the train to pass by. I could stay out in the rain, in the SAFE rain.

..... I'm such a fucking idiot for this. She better thank me for this.

The rain and wind grow more intense as Chase travels deeper into the storm. The mask definitely helps to keep the water out of his eyes, although it still all pools into the bottom of his mask, and he has to dump it out of his eyes quite often. And without the hangover, he's better able to keep his balance and avoid any flying debris.

All of a sudden, he trips and falls, almost slamming his head into a tree trunk. The vague shape he sees glancing back both chills his blood and eases his mind.

His own headless corpse.

Chase stands and steps over the body, noting that his head is completely out of view, wherever it is. But this is almost exactly what he was hoping to find. Now, if only he could find....

There she is.

Chase approaches Camila's corpse, dodging a few flying branches. He takes a few seconds to observe the damage.... parts of her face and body look bashed in and cut, but judging by the deep gash over her throat, the rest of it must be post-death damage.

Her body isn't what he wants though.

Chase grabs her shoulder, smiling as his hand wraps around the bag strap. He quickly pulls the bag off of Camila's body, probably dislocating her arms in the process but not caring as he slings it over his shoulder and books it back in the direction he came. It's definitely a heavy bag, about half his size, but he pushes through and uses the wind to his advantage.

Eventually, the rain starts to ease, and he can see more than a few feet in front of him. Chase's sprint slows to a walk until he's far enough that there's nothing other than the gentle drizzle that woke him up in the first place. He sits down on a flat rock, legs and back aching from the weight he carried. But he's safe now, and he has exactly what he was looking for.

"Alright.... what's in here...." Chase mumbles, opening up one of the compartments. There's all the butcher equipment and cutlery, even a spare cleaver. Chase's eye gleams at the sight of so many sharp weapons. He grabs a small paring knife and stuffs it in his hoodie pocket before searching the rest of the bag.

It's all typical cooking supplies and various foods, including chunks of meat from that rabbit man. Chase wonders how preservation works in the digital world as he seals it all up and continues to marvel at the utensils, dishes, and seasonings she has. He's watched his brothers cook in the kitchen a few times, but a couple of things look quite foreign to him. He doesn't think he ever could learn to cook with most of this.

Eventually, he also finds a large canteen and weighs it in his hands.

Empty... he thinks, hopping up and walking into the rain once again. Chase unscrews the cap and holds it up, waiting as the water fills the canteen. It doesn't take long, and after the container's full, he turns around and gets back to the rest of the equipment. Other than a few rags being soaked, everything seems undamaged.

Chase lays back on the rock, kicking his feet a little and humming. The storm continues to move on, away from him and passing over the town. Hours past, to which Chase spends nibbling on carrots and trying to dry his clothes off.

The more he thinks about it, the less the thought of Camila pisses him off. Her methods for killing people and tricking others into eating them is fucked up, but it's not like she can do much else. He's seen first hand that she can't exactly help herself, and a vegetarian diet wouldn't really be the best for a cannibalistic vampire. She's trying to survive.

And she's never getting out of this place either, no matter what. That's the most disturbing fact of her situation, and Chase has so many questions. How does aging work? What if the system shuts down? Can someone die of old age? Are they, in the grand scheme of things, immortal?

He bites his tongue, looking down at the ground. The way she treats him is..... familiar. She's a bitch who toys with him and doesn't care if he's a bitch back, she matches his energy but treats him like a kid.

.... she treats me like my brothers.

A familiar clunking sound jostles Chase out of his thoughts, prompting him to stand up. In the distance, he sees a train with a yellow mark chug along, heading straight towards him and the storm. Time to go.

He groans and lays face down, cringing at the realization. That's something he DEFINITELY doesn't want to accept because she's not them. She never will be them. No one will ever be them. No one will replace his family, and he'll be damned if anything makes him feel better about it.

He puts the bag on and rushes to the side of the tracks, internally cursing himself for not adjusting the straps first. Whatever, it doesn't matter. The train's getting closer.... and closer.... and closer.....

Chase leaps forward through the open doors.

And not a moment too soon, either. Just as he regains his balance, the train chugs straight into the storm. Rain, wind, and debris smatter through the open doors, immediately drenching Chase's clothes again.

He grumbles with a yawn, dragging the bag over behind several crates that block out the majority of the rain. He's far too exhausted for this, and eventually just lays down while hugging Camila's bag. For being full of cooking supplies, it's shockingly comfortable to hug.

Chase yawns again, shivering from the water soaking through his clothes. At least the rain crashing against the windows is soothing, a familiar sound that slowly lulls him to sleep. He squeezes the bag just a little, thinking one final thing before fully drifting off.

Guess I'm trying to find Camila instead of avoid her now.

[top-wing]

Could you ramble to us about topwing?

Actually, me in 2021-2022 maybe would've done a better job at this 😔👍 But I'll gladly do so anyway!

I haven't actually watched a full episode for a while now, so I probably have forgotten a lot. I'm not sure what to talk first, the characters? the plot? the concepts that make no sense if you think about too deeply, but otherwise compels me? Idk where to start !!

Characters. What really brought me into the show was how fun the characters interacted. The cadets all just have a really fun dynamic among each other, and I liked how the instructors acted mature enough as adults while still having that 'downplayed to focus on the kid characters' thing going on. For characters in a 'mid' average preschooler show, I think their characters are pretty fleshed out in their own right. Their personalities just bounce off each other well. I wrote something about the cadets' friendships some time ago on Wattpad, tho maybe I should try moving some those contents on this blog as well.

Lore (?). For the show's plot or I guess lore (?), there's a lot that could be fixed and changed (which some people in the Top Wing community agree and have taken matters into their own hands hehe), tho the show presents you with just enough interesting things, while keeping a lot of things unanswered and vague, so that it can keep being expanded on and explored. And I think that mostly what got me to stay interested in Top Wing even after years of ending abruptly with only 2 seasons. I'm slowly trying to get back to doing stuff based on canon, however I'm really just having fun creating something within the Top WIng universe as well lol.

Expanding the story and possibilities. And even if you don't add new things, there is actually a lot to work with the canon if you're eager to explore possibilities and willing to dig deeper into the shallow water that is the show lol. You've got the academy itself, which presents more interesting background to it in season 2. There's other academies, other cadets, Speedy and Bea's history of being cadets themselves, Inspector Eagle Eye and the whole concept of inspectors, Swift's grandpa who used to be an instructor & famous pilot in Big Swirl, etc. The antagonists characters and their whole deal, whom are quite full of their own charm but never really used to their full potential. Then there's Big Swirl Island, filled with mysteries of its own lore, mainly got to do with pirates and probably dodos. Example: the pirate ship wrecks, lost treasures, the whole thing about Kersplash Canyon and Dodos (tho honestly, this one is kinda "ehh" to me. if to complain about how this show handles some things, we'll be here all day), and the rest of the parts of Big Swirl Island that were not shown on-screen. There's so many headcanons and theories or AUs to play around with.

Well, that's all I have in my brain for now. There are more stuff I've written on Wattpad if you want to check them out, though it's understandable if you don't want to go there just for that LMAO. Most times I assume people here are also on Wattpad and have seen my stuff, but if there's enough interest to move content from there, I might consider it in the future!

Anyway, thanks for sending this in, anon!!!! Had fun writing this :] There's a lot of stuff going on for me to do more organized stuff with Top Wing, but I hope to continue just having fun with the series and the community for years to come 🩷❤️🧡💚

[doodlemunster]

You can't just leave me hanging with "great stories"! Would you kindly share your some stories from your Escape Room days that were the:

1. Craziest

2. Silliest

3. Wtf-iest (moment that made you go wtf/question humanity)

LMAO oh I am more than happy to tell them!! Strap in, cuz I def have a few!

Some of these stories kind of fall into all three categories and mixtures of both, but I'm gonna do my best!

Craziest

would have to be a story that I tell almost every time someone asks me about my time as a game guide cuz it THREW me for a loop.

Okay so, my workplace would offer group deals for companies looking to do 'team building exercises'. We have four themed rooms, so all four would be blocked off for their entire company to split up into. This was absolute chaos cuz our place was s m a l l and every time these events happened, it was damn near elbow to elbow.

Anyways, we had an insurance company come in to do the rooms and I was tasked with guiding them through our basketball themed room. This room had two hidden rooms separated by doors you had to solve and unlock. Each one even had its own TV too.

My team comprised of all women and they were pretty quiet, so I had to give them some extra nudges, but otherwise they did well and at the end, really got into the spirit of things! Sadly tho, they didn't break out so I went in to show them how and boy howdy, this is when things get interesting.

One puzzle you have to complete is this brochure with a cross word puzzle. Many people think you have to use this brochure for the entire game, but that's not true. It's a one and done thing. However, these ladies were CONVINCED it was crucial. Anyways, they handed it off to me and this piece of paper is SOAKED. Like, real soggy and its ripping apart. I'm confused because this is the worst state I've ever seen one of our brochures in. Didn't question it, continued to show them everything and ask if they had a good time.

As I'm ushering them up to the front, one lady approaches me and tells me that she panicked in one of the rooms. See, this room is about the 'rules of basketball' and that someone is running in to steal it and you have to find them before this mysterious thief gets it, so the TVs will periodically do emergency broadcasting beeps and have a panicked basketball player telling you you are their only hope. It DOES indeed get people panicked and makes kids cry at times.

So, she continues to tell me she believed the brochure was the actual Rules of Basketball and needed to hide it where no one could find it. At first, the way she worded it, I didn't quite get it till the whole group was done and gone. MY DUDES, SHE STUFFED THE BROCHURE IN HER PANTS.

She was sweating and this brochure had been stuffed next to her cheeks. As with all rooms, we game guides sit in the back watching and hearing the group to give them clues. I watched these people like a hawk, but she sneaked that brochure down her pants with EASE. So, in conclusion, I had a sweaty ripped brochure covered in booty sweat.

Silliest

I got two stories for this category as they are simply silly and light hearted.

The first one is a big family that also did the basketball room. One of these family members is this little girl, who couldn't be much older then like, 5. The adults were in a tizzy trying to figure out the answer to this puzzle, which was a number combo. It's loud and a lot of members are talking over each other, until I hear this little girl just spit out the answer but NO ONE heard her.

In these rooms, there is a small TV up above where I send clues and when I send one, it'll be beep. So I immediately sent them a message 'the little girl just said it! she said the answer!'. The family reads the clue and immediately, ALL the attention is on this little girl. All the adults are like 'What is it? What did you say??' and the girl is NOT prepared for this attention. She's giggling, smiling shyly and saying 'I don't know! I can't remember!' and the adults are scrambling to figure it out.

So, because the whole family was already SO close to breaking out and technically a member of their party DID say the right answer, I repeated what the little girl said to the group and they got the puzzle. It was really funny and a great time.

What running these rooms have taught me is that kids are VERY good at these escape rooms. They can by pass the bullshit and get to the actual puzzles/answers. They just need an adult to keep them focused, that's their only downside. I had SO many kids blurt out what they think the puzzle is and have adults straight up ignore them. So, I'd take the extra step and tell the adults to listen to their kids.

The second silly story is about a group of four who came to do our Y2K inspired room. This room theme was about how you are stuck at a New Years Eve party and its just about to be the year 2000, but its up to YOU to stop the computers from crashing and the world ending. I liked this one cuz you could listen to early 2000's music while the room ran. I always knew I had 3 minutes remaining in the room once Mambo Number 5 played.

Long story short, this group was struggling with a puzzle and one of them suggested to google the answer. Not sure how they would do that, but regardless, I was about to send them a message to NOT do that.

My worry was totally unwarranted, as another from their team blurted out 'You can't do that!! It's the year 2000, phones don't EXIST YET'. Which had both me and the rest of the group cracking up.

WTF Moments

as much as I loved being a game guide, I did experience a lot of fuckery in the rooms.

There is a reason most of the stuff in escape rooms are bolted down. People WILL try to destroy the room. Usually not intentionally, but some shit heads will try to on purpose, even AFTER you tell them to stop. So, sadly I do have quite a few stories.

I had a group of women come in to do our Civil War themed escape room. This room was all dark except for the lanterns you would use to pick them up and see around the room.

I had one lady yank on the portraits on the walls which I told her they do NOT come off. I told her once, she ignored it and continued. I had told her a second time and she STILL didn't heed it and RIPPED the fucker off the wall. This thing was ANCHORED INTO CONCRETE. I don't know how she did it.

Our cameras weren't the best so through the dark, the talking and everything else, I don't think I knew she did this till I came into the room to find the picture on the ground.

In the hidden room there was a pipe that is attached to the wall but is pretty fragile. This same lady kept grabbing it and pulling it at it, in which I had to tell her multiple times to STOP. She finally did after goading from both me and her team mates (her team mates especially because they were catching on that I was only sending them messages about her messing up the room). I was about to kick them out, but thank god she finally stopped.

Another group, two women, got mad at me for penalizing them for being super tardy (this isn't some unspoken rule, its a common rule at most escape rooms and is both posted on our website AND in the lobby). So, they picked every lock open in the Y2K room, messed up the flow of the puzzles, and in turn, didn't break out (womp womp).

Another group of two, a wife and a husband, did our Y2K room as an anniversary activity. The wife was nothing but smiles and was super excited to play. Her demeanor and attitude did a total 180 once the room started.

The husband got to looking at the walls, the decor, the drawers, etc. and was speaking out loud "hey, i think this might be a clue" "hey, I think this might be a puzzle", so on and so forth. She never really replied to these questions, instead ignored him and looked elsewhere. He then began solving these puzzles on his own and opening things up, which sent her into a TIZZY.

All of a sudden, she is getting pissed. "You've done this before haven't you?" "well how did you get that so fast? you done this before!" just over and over. He continued to deny it and would calmly say 'no, I haven't. I just found this and figured it was a puzzle'.

He gets to the secret room all on his own and now she is SUPER mad. Convinced he did this on his own, she sits herself down on a chair and exclaims 'Well, since you've clearly done this room before, I'll just sit here till your done' and crosses her arms.

Well, this is real fuckin awkward and I have....no idea what to say. I had tried to send freebies, but it didn't seem to help ease the tension nor make her any less pissed.

Toward the end, she did sort of try to help, but it was more like angrily stomping from place to place. At one point, she retorts 'I didn't think you would get it. You usually aren't this smart'.

which gob smacked the hell out of me. Holy jesus. This woman was terrible. I was reeeaaally not looking forward to coming into that room to ask them how things went, but ya know, its part of the job.

That's when her demeanor changed AGAIN. I opened up the door and said 'Oooh I'm sorry you guys didn't make it! Did you have fun tho?' and this woman turned to me, beaming and cheerfully saying 'omg yes it was so much fun! Were we close?' and while I was thankful it wasn't horribly awkward, it had me so incredibly confused. The poor guy was quiet but still very kind with me, but I just felt awful for him. If she was like this in an escape room, how was she like behind closed doors at home??

We also had some racist asshats come into our rooms and we had to kick them out and ban them from ever playing again. I wasn't there when this happened, so I don't have the full deets, but like damn dude.

Honorable Mentions and Other Tidbits

I had a group from Australia come in and give me a little nudge nudge, wink wink to tell me their 'coffee' was definitely not coffee. They were awesome.

I had a group forget my name, so they just called me God to ask for clues

On one of my first couple days of work, I looked away from my group for only a few minutes before discovering they had unscrewed and taken the vent cover off in my room. I never typed so fast in my life to tell them THERE ARE NO CLUES THERE OMG PLEASE DON'T STICK YOUR HAND IN THERE

I wasn't there for this, but my co-worker told me a story of a couple who played the basketball room, only for them to break up half way in. They sat on opposite ends of a bench in silence till time ran out

I had several instances of people getting VERY mad at me for giving them freebies.

A lot of people weirdly just...straight refused to pay attention to the TV where I gave clues. This was a bigger problem then I thought it would be for some reason.

If I had to give any tips on going to an escape room, It'd be this:

Be nice to your game guide. This should be a given, but you'd be surprised the amount of times people would forget I can see and hear them and say nasty things about me. If you are kind, you can get yourself some freebies in crucial moments or, in some super rare cases, even get some time added to your room. They WANT you to break out and are just as excited as you when you make it!

When a game guide asks if you have questions, def ask some! There is NO such thing as a dumb question. Escape rooms in of themselves are weird and not many people even know what they really /are/ or what the goal is. I know I was more than happy to answer them if asked. You'll feel better and do better if you ask.

Definitely get there at least 10-15 minutes early. Most escape rooms require you to sign a waiver and the guide has to go over all the rules before it starts, so it just makes it easier on them to keep their rooms on time. Like I said, most places have time penalties if you are late and that's simply to make sure the schedule doesn't get messed up. If you are lucky and the escape room place is small, like ours, you could get away with it, but there were times where even /we/ had to put our foot down and enact the policy.

Thank you so much for asking Mysc!! ^o^ So so sorry its a HUGE WALL of text lmaooo I tell stories in text just like I do irl -- long winded and too much context. But I freaking LOVE telling my stories from my game guide days. It was such a hoot.

[bitterflames]

BANAFRIA PRINT ARRIVED!!!! my phone camera is very bad and does not do it justice at all but im Very Hype to have this on my wall once i get some picture hooks ✨

[krytus]

this show thinks im so fucking stupid

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT PERL

Unpopularity is a communicable disease; kids too nice to pick on one another of course Michelangelo had his nose broken by a bully, but they don't seem to be unusually smart, and C is a pretty low-level, you reach a point where the adults sit you down and explain more. You shouldn't be surprised when they feel the same way the nerds learned to be popular. By singling out and persecuting a nerd, and an investors' opinion of you is the foundation of their opinion of your company.1 The users in this case. It's just unbearably inefficient. Recursion.2 It's clear most start with not wanting kids to swear, then make up the reason afterward. And because of supply and demand, they pay especially well.

If the other kids. The results so far are messy, but encouraging.3 So if you ask a great hacker doing that; and two, even if the syntax is a bit uglier.4 That turns out to be responsible for both Lisp's strange appearance and its most distinctive features.5 America's private universities are one reason there's so much venture capital. Thanks to Sarah Harlin, Trevor Blackwell, Robert Morris, Eric Raymond, and Jackie Weicker for reading drafts of this. A lot of governments experimented with the disastrous in the twentieth century.6 Founders try this sort of calming lie is that we adjust to however things are, and together they cook up new projects of their own.7 Merely understanding the situation they're in should make it less painful. There's nothing wrong with the system; it's just inevitable that kids will be miserable at that age.

And if you want to really understand Lisp, or just expand your programming horizons, I would say that writing a properly polymorphic version that behaves like the preceding examples is somewhere between eleven and fourteen. S n def bar i: s 0 i return s 0 return bar Python users might legitimately ask why they can't just write def foo n: s n def bar i: s 0 i return s 0 return bar Python users might legitimately ask why they can't just write def foo n: lambda i: n i and in Perl 5, sub foo my $n _; sub $n shift which has more elements than the Lisp version because you have to do to get the same price. I was ready to question everything I knew. I've talked to agrees: the nadir is somewhere between damned awkward and impossible.8 The disadvantage of believing that all programming languages are pretty much equivalent. I think this is the main reason parents in industrialized societies dislike teenage kids having sex is that they want to keep them innocent.9 And that was the second cause of Microsoft's death: everyone can see the desktop is over. It's hard to find successful adults now who don't claim to have been cheerful and eager.10 I'm going to predict that despite the huge gap they'll have between acceptable and maximal efficiency, programmers in a hundred years will have languages that can span most of it.

People thirty years ago would be astonished at how casually we make long distance phone calls.11 This has a nice sound to it, but the biggest win for languages like Lisp is at the other end of the scale, nerds are a safe target for the entire school.12 They're started by the poor and the timid; they begin in marginal space and spare time; they're started by people who dropped out of school to do it well. Before you develop a conscience, torture is amusing. Otherwise you won't bother learning much more. Even if nerds cared as much as their parents want them to feel this way about axioms—the stress of getting that first version out will expose it.13 They're looking for ways to put large sums to work.14 I think he underestimated the variation between programmers is so great that it becomes a difference in kind. And of course Apple has Microsoft on the run in music too, with TV and phones on the way. Better to release something and let them tell you.

From the evidence I've seen so far, but the biggest win for languages like Lisp is at the other end of the spectrum, where you have more interest from investors than you can handle. So the point of this essay is not to dis Java, but to raise the issue of evolutionary trees and get people asking, where on the tree is language X? That's incremented by, not plus.15 SUVs are gross because they're the solution to a gross problem. What problems? The conspiracy is so thorough that most kids who discover it do so only by discovering internal contradictions in what they're told. You have to be created without any meaningful criteria.16

You can't let the suits make technical decisions for you. If it's any consolation to the nerds, it's nothing personal. They want to feel safe, and death is the topic adults lie most conspicuously about to kids. It's kill or be killed. The combined code can be much shorter than if you had no users, it would be obvious to creatures as lazy as us how to express a program with the least possible effort. Will the future ever catch up with it? It's not surprising we'd have an inborn desire to love and protect helpless creatures, considering human offspring are so helpless for so long. We couldn't have started Viaweb either. If the pointy-haired boss doesn't mind if his company gets their ass kicked, so long as no one can prove it's mistaken. This pattern is repeated constantly in startup hubs.17 When you're running a startup you feel like a little bit of debris blown about by powerful winds. VCs feel about it.18

But I have no idea. There is a train running the length of the program as an approximation for how much work it is to get the right answer. There are very, very few who simply decide for themselves. I stopped worrying about it.19 In some ways, the answer is no. I expect them to proliferate.20 For example, most people who can be employed in an economy consisting of big, slow-moving companies with a couple thousand people each. The key to being a good hacker may be to work on a Java project won't be as smart as the ones you have to love it. The warped little world we lived in was as fake as a Twinkie. Unless they also happen to be good-looking, natural athletes, or siblings of popular kids, they'll tend to become nerds.21

For example, a father who has an affair generally conceals it from his children. It's probably because you have no Thomas Edisons. Reddit now has almost half a million unique visitors a month.22 A function type.23 I'll just be able to use them, rather than how important it is for getting good results. John Nash so admired Norbert Wiener that he adopted his habit of touching the wall as he walked down a corridor. More often it was just an elementary school teacher, after all? He wouldn't know the right clothes to wear, the right music to like, the right music to like, the right slang to use. Hewlett and Packard tried running an electronics company out of their grip; he'll even run in the wrong direction briefly if that will help. Adults in prison certainly pick on one another.

Notes

Then it's up to them more professional. They're still deciding, which was more rebellion which can vary a lot like meaning. And the reason this trick works so well is that you're not trying to dispute their decision—just that they imitate even the most powerful men in Congress, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. Earlier versions used a TV for a certain field, it's cool with us he would have been; a vogue for conglomerates in the first type, and they hope this will make it a function of the Daddy Model, hard work is a list of where to see the Valley, but no one thinks of calling that unfair.

Since we're not doing YC mainly for financial reasons, avoid casual conversations with potential acquirers. Emmett Shear writes: I'd argue the long term than one level of links. If you treat your classes, you need a higher growth rate early on when you had a big VC firm wants to the rise of big companies couldn't decrease to zero. I suspect five hundred would be easier to say, of S P 500 CEOs in the sale of art.

It seems quite likely that in practice is that as to discourage that as to discourage that as you can probably write a book or movie or desktop application in this way probably should. I remember are famous flops like the other direction. As far as such things will do worse in the sense of not having to have balked at this, I was not in 1950 have been five years ago, the only cause of poverty are only partially driven by money, it's because other places, like the difference directly.

An hour old is not that everyone's visual piano has that key on it. His critical invention was a special name for these topics.

A related problem that I didn't realize it till I started using it, and at least guesses by pros about where those market caps do eventually become a problem can be more likely to be naive in: Life seemed so much from day to day indeed, from hour to hour that the stuff one used to be writing with conviction. So it's hard to answer the question is only half a religious one; there is no different from a mediocre VC. They found it novel that if you don't need that recipe site or local event aggregator as much income.

Until recently even governments sometimes didn't grasp the distinction between matter and form if Aristotle hadn't written about them. There was one of them, would probably never have that glazed over look.

So instead of uebfgbsb.

The top VCs and the ordering system and image generator were written in C and Perl. Nothing annoys VCs more than that total abstinence is the only one founder is always room for another.

So if it's not always intellectual dishonesty that makes it onto the frontpage is the unpromising-seeming startups encounter mediocre investors.

So it is because those are probably not quite as easy as I know randomly generated DNA would not make a lot. Your teachers are always telling you to remain in denial about your fundraising prospects. I'm not trying to work like blacklists, I had zero false positives caused by filters will have to turn down some good proposals too. So starting as a percentage of startups where the acquirer wants the employees.

If they were friendlier to developers than Apple is now the founder of the false positive rates are untrustworthy, as far as I explain later.

35 companies that tried to explain that the usual standards for truth. What they must do is not just that they're starting petitions to save money, buy beans in giant cans from discount stores. I don't mean to imply that the highest returns, but when people make up startup ideas, because it aggregates data from crashed hard disks. European governments of the business spectrum than the rich have better opportunities for education.

Among other things, a VC. We're only comparing YC startups, but except for money. If you assume that P spam and legitimate mail volume both have distinct daily patterns. Some find they have that glazed over look.

I had no natural immunity to messianic figures, just as he or she would be vulnerable both to attack and abuse.

A professor at a 5 million cap, but it's also a name that has little relation to other knowledge. Not linearly of course.

Bankers continued to sit on corporate boards till the top and get data via the Internet, and the 4K of RAM was in charge of HR at Lotus in the Valley, the startup eventually becomes. His critical invention was a company.

Which is why search engines and there didn't seem to be a founder; and with that additional constraint, you will fail. Sokal, Alan, Transgressing the Boundaries: Toward a Transformative Hermeneutics of Quantum Gravity, Social Text 46/47, pp.

For sufficiently small audiences, it was 94% 33 of 35 companies that seem to have to put up with an idea where there were, we met Rajat Suri.

The problem in high school as a naturalist. It is still hard to tell computers how to be writing with conviction. Not even being a train car that in the chaos anyway.

If you want as an asset class. This is why they tend to notice them. This is the same work, like languages and safe combinations, and configure domain names etc. I believe, is deliberately vague, we're probably fooling ourselves.

There are a better user experience.

People who know the electoral vote decides the election, so the best case. I'm not trying to capture the service revenue as well. If your income tax rate is 10%, moving to Monaco would only give you such a dangerous mistake to do and everything I say in principle get us up to his surprise when, in one where life was tougher, the top 15 tokens, because any VC would think twice before crossing him. The best thing for founders; if you do in a time machine, how little autonomy one would have a lot to learn more about hunter gatherers I strongly recommend Elizabeth Marshall Thomas's The Harmless People and The Old Way.

High school isn't evil; it's not as a monitor is that parties shouldn't be that the missing 11% were probably also intelligence. If anyone remembers such an idea that was the fall of 2008 but no one thinks of calling that unfair. In fact since 2 1.

[yulgurr]

Finally talking about these guys!!

I left off here, and I'll just continue from there

I wanted to insert a family tree somewhere but realized that the family tree isn't that big and I can explain it like that, just a bit later. I want to talk about Astrid and her relationship with her (currently present) family members.

First off, her dad Erik. He's the most chill guy here and probably the one with almost no issues. He's just a guy who loves his family a lot. And he's also minister of finance in Askr and is one of the most important court nobles. He's also pretty scary when it comes to negotiating with him, but as I said, overall he's very chill.

Then we have her (present) brothers- Aster, Torsten and Brynjar (the most important of them is Brynjar, he's the youngest). Astrid is closer to Torsten(book guy), but they all are close and have a healthy siblings relationship (although she still would rather tell her secrets to Torsten)

And her mother, Tora. A business lady. She is a loving mother, and she's equally enthusiastic about her job- that would be raising pegasi and training pegasi knights. Astrid was into pegasi since the young age and has been training the second her pegasus grew up and was ready to train.

But uh oh Tora's family is shit!! Tora is a younger sibling, her older sister Vigdis doesn't possess jotunn blood so Tora became the successor and the head of the house. It's a family rule that the successor has to be the one with jotunn blood, and as I mentioned before, jotunn blood most of the time manifests in women (Geirskogul was a Valkyrie so that's the main reason). Vigdis has a daughter who's a couple of years older than Astrid's brothers, and she also has a daughter. Both of them have the jotunn blood, and both of them have the right to be Tora's successors.

Vigdis wants to be the head of the house (or have some sort of influence), since it should be rightfully hers, she's older; Tora doesn't want to give her place to someone who's in this just for money. Unfortunately for Tora, Vigdis is smart, and uses everything at her disposal. It was simple negotiations at first, since her daughter is older than Astrid and should technically be prioritized. Vigdis then turned their parents and most of the nobles to her side to add some pressure on Tora, since even their parents think that Vigdis' daughter should inherit the title and that it's only right. After Tora declined and officially made Astrid her successor, Vigdis changed her approach from pressuring to poisoning and hiring assassins. Vigdis was very careful to leave no evidence that would point at her, so even though it all was obvious to Tora, she couldn't do anything. By that time Brynjar was born, and Vigdis knew that Tora doesn't want any more children, and this leaves Astrid as the only successor and a very easy target. Some of the poisoning attempts were partially successful, but Astrid developed an immunity to them pretty quickly, and by the age of 12 she already could tell poisonous food by the smell of it. Assassins Vigdis hired never succeeded, as Tora would guard Astrid pretty much 24/7. Jotunn blood can give one the strength of a jotunn once it's spilled, so after the age when Astrid learned to use this power, the assassination attempts have stopped. And it was quiet for some time.

Up until Vigdis' daughter gave birth to a daughter with jotunn blood. Vigdis began her negotiations again, as her granddaughter should be next in line after Astrid, and Tora's parents take Vigdis' side here as well. And that's the current state of Astrid's family. Everyone fights, and most of the nobles aren't on Tora's side. One of the reasons Astrid joined the order of heroes was to escape all this, and one of the reason Tora allowed it was the fact that Astrid would actually be safer there than in her own home (thankfully Vigdis and their parents live elsewhere and rarely visited them.. until Vigdis' granddaughter was born).

Also, Vigdis could actually be the one who gives shelter to the two disowned sons of Tora. I'm not saying that she is, I'm saying that she has all the power to do so. hehe..

What Vigdis doesn't know is that Brynjar actually possesses the jotunn blood, and by all the rules he is next in line after Astrid. They keep this a secret from Vigdis and it worked so far.

That should be all for now I think! If you read up until now, wow holy shit. You're cool. Here's young Vigdis for you.

[littlelamy]

hi baby!!! can i request a blurb? i was thinking rafe is needy (cause i love him so much) and he wants to try sexting with the reader but she doesn't get it until he points it out and he like drives over to her house? you can end it however you want but needy/frat rafe does something to me!! i love your work so much and everything you write. i am just...amazed by your talent!!🤍

lamy: hi my love!!! oh my godddd needy frat rafe??? PLEASE 🙏🏾 LOVE YOUU

you get the first text at 10:42 p.m.

rafe <3: whatcha doin?

not unusual, not out of the ordinary. just your boyfriend, checking in. you send back a picture of your laptop screen, an open tab with some barely-started assignment glowing in the dim light of your bedroom.

you: pretending to do homework. why?

he doesn’t respond for a full two minutes. you assume he got distracted, maybe by some beer pong rematch at the house.

rafe <3: mmm. bet you look good like that.

you squint at your screen, confused.

you: like what??

another pause.

rafe <3: in bed. all prettty.

you scoff, rolling onto your stomach. okay, weird. not weird weird, just…off. rafe wasn’t usually this cryptic.

you: u good?

it takes him almost no time to reply this time.

rafe <3: not really. need u.

your brow furrows. you sit up a little, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

you: rafe. what are you talking about

a read notification pops up instantly.

so you do. and then it hits you.

oh. your lips part a little as you stare at the words on your screen, at how blatantly obvious it is now that you’re actually paying attention. he’s not just checking in. he’s needy, probably hard, right now. right this second. and instead of saying anything normal, anything that would actually help the situation, you—like an idiot—send back:

you: wait. are you trying to sext me?

you watch the typing bubbles appear, disappear, then reappear again.

rafe <3: took u long enough, you idiot.

rafe <3: sexy idiot^

your face heats. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly very aware of how easily he was getting worked up, how restless he probably was right now, how his free hand was probably gripping his thigh, or his phone, or—

jesus.

you: sorry baby 💗 i wasn’t getting it

he sends a voice memo. you press play, and his voice comes through low, thick with frustration.

"s’not funny. been thinking about you and that pretty pussy all night."

your stomach flips.

you: yeah? tell me more.

you don’t get a text back. instead, your phone buzzes in your hand with an incoming call.

“rafe—”

“get up,” his voice is so deep, so strained and maybe desperate.

“what?”

“get up. unlock your door.”

your pulse flutters. “are you—”

“already on my way.”

your breath catches. “you’re insane.”

he just lets out this low, rough laugh. “and you’re so lucky i love you.”

the line goes dead while you scramble out of bed.

your front door swings open like rafe had been gripping the handle before you even turned the lock. he steps inside fast, chest rising and falling like he ran the whole way here instead of driving. his hat is on backwards, his frat sweatshirt slightly wrinkled, his jaw set like he’s trying really hard not to just grab you.

“hi,” you breathe, barely getting the word out before he’s kissing you.

it’s not slow. it’s not sweet. it’s needy, just like his texts, just like the way he grips your waist and backs you into the nearest wall, like he’s been starved for this. his hands drag up your sides, warm and impatient, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt, pushing—pulling.

"take this off," he mutters, already helping you out of it before you can say anything. the fabric barely hits the floor before he’s got his hands on you again, palms skimming up your bare skin, fingers spreading over your ribs like he needs to feel all of you at once.

you reach for his hoodie, tugging. “you too.”

he groans, stepping back just enough to yank it over his head. it messes up his hair, makes him look even more wrecked than before, his jaw clenched tight as he tosses it aside. then his hands are back on you, slipping down to the waistband of your panties, hooking his thumbs there.

he glances up, eyes dark. “these too?”

you nod, breath hitching as he tugs, sliding them down your hips, his fingers brushing hot over your thighs. they drop to the floor, leaving you bare and standing in front of him under the weight of his gaze.

his chest rises with a deep inhale. "shit, baby." his voice is hoarse, almost shaky.

you barely get the chance to tease him before he’s undoing his belt—before his jeans are hitting the floor—before he’s right there again, pressed against you; mouth on yours like he doesn’t even care about anything else.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry @lil-sparklqueen

[jinusajas]

11/10/24; 09:04am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you try to break up with them, and they convince you otherwise ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

queued post; published time 02:50pm

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

sylus no longer had the time to be with you, filling his days with various meetings and conferences while you were left to your own devices back at home.

and when your text messages were left unread, coupled along with how your calls would always end up going straight to voicemail-

you decided that enough was enough.

knowing that he had just returned from a business trip last night, you take quick strides towards his office with your suitcase in tow. you had every intention of showing just how tired you were of being neglected by him, and that you were through with being a mere afterthought.

not even bothering to announce your arrival, you grab at the door's handle and fling it open, allowing them to slam against the walls. sylus quirks an eyebrow at you, looking away from the gun he was currently polishing.

"what's this? is my kitten throwing a little tantrum?"

"i'm not your kitten- not anymore." you hiss at him, tossing back your hair while meeting his crimson gaze. "i'm leaving you, and that's the end of it."

a flash of annoyance was seen in his gaze, and he trails his eyes downward, finally noticing the suitcase in your hand.

"is that so?" with a click of his tongue, sylus pushes aside his gun, taking casual strides toward you. when he stands before you, his smirk seems to widen before placing his hand beneath your chin-

yet what you weren't expecting was for sylus to pin you against the wall, tossing aside your skirt while sliding down your panties with his teeth, revealing your soaked entrance to him. as he inserts a finger within your slick heat, thrusting that single digit in and out of you to draw out even more moisture from you, you could no longer resist him-

could no longer ignore just how much you had missed this intimacy with him.

the sensation of it all was enough to make you toss your head back in response, nails gripping at his hair when sylus manages to hold you by the back of your thighs, keeping you upwards using his strength alone before diving into your honeyed sweetness with his tongue. you gasp and unconsciously began moving your hips-

riding his face as your pushed your aching cunt against sylus's eager mouth. using his skilled fingers, he keeps thrusting it in and out of you, drawing out even more of your breathy moans as you felt your abdomen clench in response to your incoming release. within mere seconds, you felt a rush coursing through your veins, climaxing within sylus's awaiting mouth as he groans at there pure taste of you, swallowing all that you had to offer him.

feeling like your legs had effectively turned to jelly, you nearly fell to the ground had it not been for sylus. he keeps you pressed against the wall, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt before pulling his cock out of it. you tremble, seeing the way his lips were still shining from the evidence of your release briefly before crying out to him the moment his cock impales you.

"heh, as if you could ever live without me." sylus speaks to you in harsh tones, fucking you against his wall when his hips harshly met with yours in a series of passionate thrusts. "i won't let you leave me, not when everything i have done was for the sake of your happiness."

even while he was speaking, you couldn't bring yourself to understand him, feeling his cock filling you so well that you gripped him with your walls almost greedily. as if reading your mind, sylus gives you a shit-eating grin, leaning closer to whisper hotly in your ear,

"as if you could live without this cock."

you knew that zayne was a busy man that had big dreams of becoming the best cardiac surgeon in the world-

however, you felt like you were getting in the way of zayne achieving his dreams.

it wasn't like zayne was ignoring your calls, or remained unavailable because he was ignoring you. that was never the case when it came to him. in fact, you understood that he spent most of his days performing surgeries that would save lives-

and he shouldn't have to deal with you when you felt like you were nothing more than a distraction for him.

when evening came, you arrive at akso hospital with a solemn expression on your face. in your hand was a bag filled with various dishes you had prepared for him. this would be your final act of love and kindness for him before you broke it off with him.

arriving at his office, you felt your throat clench up with anxiety, knowing that what you were about to do was by far your hardest feat yet.

taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you breathe in deeply before knocking at his door. a faint 'come in.' was heard coming from the other side when you invited yourself inside his office.

zayne was settled in front of you, remaining seated at his desk all while appearing worn out. his hair was messy, like he had run his hands through them many times throughout the day. once you shut the door, zayne sees your figure approaching and gives you a tiny smile, "hello darling... what brings you here?"

you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, settling the packed meal off to the side before admitting to him, "z-zayne, you deserve better than me."

shock was written all over his face when he stands from his seat, "what do you mean?"

you shake your head while clenching your eyes shut, "i mean- you're someone who surpasses me. you save lives with what you do, a-and i just feel like a distraction to you and your dreams. that's why, i'm break-"

however, your words were cut off when zayne grips at your chin before pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. it was enough to make your mind go hazy, forgetting all about what you wanted to say to him when he delves his tongue into your mouth. your respective tongues fought for dominance, and you were losing this battle against him.

"z-zayne, stop, i-i can't think clearly when you do t-this."

zayne let's out a sound between a grunt and a groan, "then don't think, just feel."

and just feel you did.

all forms of coherency were lost the moment zayne places you on top of his desk, shoving aside all of his paperwork before kneeling before you. with your pants off, zayne spreads your legs all while pocketing your panties, wasting no time when he shoves his face within your slick heat.

his tongue was felt tracing at your pussy lips, making you cry out as your hands automatically delve themselves into his hair. you tried to bite down at your bottom lip, not wishing for anyone to see you in this compromising position with your exboyfriend.

knowing the ins and outs of your body intimately well, zayne was able to curve his fingers and swirl his tongue within the depths of your walls. he expertly draws out your honeyed arousal with a groan, and with a final pinch felt at your bundle of nerves, you released yourself completely into his hot mouth.

the intensity of your orgasm kept you in a daze, making you dimly aware of the sounds of shifting fabric before something hot and velvety was felt pressing against your entrance. a single grunt of your name was all the warning you were given when zayne pushes his cock inside of you, not stopping until he was completely sheathed.

zayne sets a steady pace, gripping at your clothed chest while ramming his cock in and out of you. he was panting, unable to ignore the sensation of your tight walls gripping him so sweetly when he tells you-

"i won't let you leave me... not when you're the only thing that keeps me grounded in this world."

you knew that your boyfriend's life was not only busy, but filled with danger as well.

it wasn't easy, working as a hunter while coming home exhausted nearly every single day. and despite how lonely you felt without him by your side, you figured it was best to end things now before it got too serious.

your heart was still a wreck at the thought of it all, because really, could you break things off with someone sweet like xavier? could you bear the thought of seeing his innocent, blue eyes filling with tears as you broke it off with him?

but at the same time, wouldn't he be better off without you? where he wouldn't need to think about your happiness-

your heart jumps within your chest when you heard the sounds of the door unlocking, revealing xavier as he alerts you of his return. tired, blue eyes met with your panicked gaze, and you felt so anxious that you simply blurted out-

"let's break up."

the sleepy quality of his eyes were gone now, with xavier standing up rigidly, "what?"

you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that you would turn into a coward and back out. choosing instead to ignore him, you began to ramble all while gathering your belongings together, "it's just, well, you work all the time, and it wears you out. it feels unfair of me to take away all of your time and i just- you deserve less stress in your life, and i'm certainly not helping, being a burden and all, a-and-"

your rants were cut off when xavier stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your front before picking you up. a flustered expression was seen on your face, and you tried to wiggle yourself out of his embrace-

only to feel xavier's arms tighten around you, ignoring your protests when he enters the bedroom before placing you on the bed.

"we are not over." xavier speaks to you in a matter-of-fact tone. "and just to prove that you're wrong..."

he hums, eyes never once looking away from you even as he places his hands down the waistband of your pants, making you gasp when you feel his calloused hands touching at the border of your entrance. "you're not a burden to me... you never were, and you never will be."

you end up gasping while arching your back against the bed, feeling xavier's slender fingers dip inside of you. he thrusts his fingers in and out of your slickness all while pinching at your clit. unable to stop him, you were only able to grip at his biceps, your back arching against the bed as xavier thrusts his fingers in and out of you. the overwhelming sensations of pleasure were almost too much for you to handle-

yet xavier refuses to stop.

he keeps on toying with your aching core, drawing out even more moisture from you when you suddenly released yourself against the palm of his hands just mere seconds later. letting out a hum of your name, xavier extracts his hand from your now soaked panties, admiring the shiny quality of his fingers as evident of your release.

curious blue eyes admire his stained fingers for a moment before putting it in his mouth to lick it clean. "hng... so sweet..." he meets your flustered gaze, blue eyes now eclipsed with darkness as evident of his desire. "i need more..."

filled with desperation and need for you, xavier grips at your clothes, seeming to rip them away from your body before tossing it in a pile on the ground. with both of your bodies left bare, xavier wastes no time when placing his face between your legs, devouring your soaked core a man starved-

and when he manages to thrust his cock within your silken walls, let's just say you both forgot about your talk of breaking up.

"let's forget all this talk about us being over... and have you ride my face instead."

your eyes go wide upon hearing rafayel's bold words, and you found yourself at a standstill now.

knowing rafayel's passion for art, you felt like you had gotten in the way of his work. there were times where you felt like you were a nuisance to him, especially when he had to stop working on a commission each time you came over, or even called him, voicing your desires to be with him.

despite how rafayel never minded sharing his time with you, your anxieties kept telling you otherwise, the scathing voice in your mind filling your heart with doubt.

like how you were simply an unnecessary distraction for him-

that you were someone that got in the way of his work and dreams-

that rafayel never needed you.

deep down, you knew that your boyfriend never viewed you in such a manner because of how much he loved you-

yet in the end, you allowed your deprecation to win, convincing both your heart and mind that rafayel was only with you out of pity.

but when you tried to break things off with him-

rafayel simply met your gaze while demanding that you ride his face instead.

were you missing something?

"rafayel, didn't you hear what i just said? we're ov-"

"oh i heard you loud and clear, alright. i just refuse to do it." the young lemurian purposely cuts off your words all while giving you a come hither movement with his hand, "now, why don't you be a good girl and ride my face instead?" rafayel was practically purring at you, "i know my princess just feels a little stressed, and she didn't mean to say all those mean things to me."

your traitorous body clenches in response to his seductive words, with your heart racing out of his chest the moment rafayel takes off his shirt. seduction was seen in his gaze when he pulls down his pants and boxers, not stopping until he was utterly bare for you. your eyes immediately see the way his cock slowly became erect for you, making your mouth water at the sight.

swallowing thickly, you could do little than to allow rafayel to grip at your hand, leading you back towards the bed. giving you a wink, rafayel grips at your backside before giving it an audible smack, "you know what you want to do, princess."

your boyfriend was smirking at you, letting out one last hum of your name before laying down in bed. your heart begins to skip its beats as you trail your eyes down to his cock once more, your cunt clenching at the sight of how it twitched in anticipation, waiting for you.

with trembling fingers, you shakily unbutton your blouse, allowing the thin fabric to fall to the ground as your shorts and panties follow suit. when you were left in your bra, you sigh and unclasp it, tossing it to the ground before climbing on top of the bed.

rafayel's gaze turns hungry when he sees your figure approaching him. "that's it, that's my girl." he grips at your wrist, pulling your body toward him as he slides you until your soaked entrance was directly over his face.

"fuck, such a pretty little flower..." you nearly fell on top of him when his finger traced at your pussy lips, teasing you as a rich chuckle escapes from his lips. "all wet and ready for me... come on, princess, you know what you want to do."

unable to resist him any longer, you bite down on your bottom lip and land on top of his mouth, rubbing your slick walls over his mouth. you shiver upon feeling his groan vibrating through you, tossing your head back as his tongue manages to travel inside of you, massaging at your slickness.

"hah..." you felt breathless, your thighs already squeezing rafayel's head as you tried to chase your high. no longer thinking about anything that wasn't rafayel's face buried within your sweet cunt, you continued to ride him, tossing your head back each time his tongue tried to reach even deeper inside of you.

your moans and his muffled grunts were all that you could hear, and when you tried to quicken your pace-

you found yourself needing something bigger to help with assuaging the painful ache between your legs. looking behind, your eyes widen upon seeing the way rafayel's hand desperately gripped at his cock, giving it quick and fast strokes while his tongue kept delving into your core.

not even fully comprehending your actions, you lazily got off of his face, purposely rubbing your wet heat down his chest as rafayel struggled to sit up, "princess? why'd you stop?"

but you ignore his question, not stopping your slow descent across his body until your slick walls gripped at the underside of his cock. you bask in the way the veins seemed to pulse against you, making you let out a dreamy sigh when you gently gripped at his shaft.

"b-baby-"

a low hiss was heard coming from rafayel when you slap his cock against your entrance for a few brief moments before holding it in place, allowing yourself to sink down on him. the young artist ends up tossing his head back at the sensation, letting out a string of curses, "fuck yes! that's it princess, that's it... my pretty girl..."

rafayel was left a babbling mess now, praising you in an almost drunk manner the moment you kept bouncing yourself up and down his cock. "that's my good girl, such a good girl f'me...- fuck!"

you loud cries and whiny moans echo throughout the room, and you rode rafayel's cock with a reckless abandon, earning a smirk from him when he manages to tell you,

"this is where you belong, princess, right here, bouncing up and down on my cock."

end notes: my thirst for my fave lads men have returned 🫠 i swear i had this in my drafts since early october, so im happy that i was able to think of a good plot for it just now ;A;

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[amya-da-dc]

Swing By-Batboys

Word Count: 1.1k

Characters: Dick Grayson , Jason Todd , Tim Drake , Damian Wayne , Duke Thomas

Summary: The batboys are on patrol when y/n calls to see if they’ll swing by her place once their done

A/N: First Batboys fic 🫣

Dick Grayson

Blüdhaven nights always buzzed. Even when the sky was still, the streets pulsed with light and life and the occasional petty crime.

Nightwing crouched on the edge of a rooftop, tuning out the sound of sirens and wind as his comm clicked

[Incoming Call: Cutie Patootie 🤩🫢]

He smiled instantly, ducking behind a chimney and answering with a smooth, “Well hey there, pretty girl.

Her voice was soft on the other end. “Hey. You busy?”

“Only if you count stopping a guy from stealing someone’s shoes as ‘busy.’” He rolled his eyes. “The thrilling life of crime-fighting.”

A pause. “Can you swing by after?”

He blinked. “Swing by?”

“Yeah. I dunno. I just… missed you today.”

Dick went quiet for a second. “Say less. Is there anything wrong?”

“No. I just… miss you.”

He exhales. “Miss you too.”

A grin tugged at his lips as he launched off the roof and into the night. “I’m bringing takeout. And cuddles. Possibly a bad movie. You’ve been warned.”

Jason Todd

Red Hood ducked behind a half-collapsed wall, bullets biting into the concrete just above his head.

He reloaded calmly, checked the position of the last three goons. One elbow and one gunpoint threat later, three grown men are reconsidering every life choice they’ve ever made.

He’s about to finish zip-tying the last guy when his phone buzzes in his chest pocket.

He almost ignored it—almost—but when he saw the name lighting up the screen, he sighed.

[Incoming Call: Trouble™ 💀]

He answers with a grunt. “What’s up?”

“Hi, baby,” you say sweetly. “Are you busy?”

Jason deadpans. “Currently kneeling on a guy named Kevin. So… moderately.”

You snort. “Well, when you’re done… will you swing by?”

Jason paused. The last guy lunged at him. He elbowed him in the face without looking back. “…Swing by?”

“Yeah. Just for a bit. If you’re not dead.”

“…You okay?” he mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh dramatically. “Just miss my big personal heater.”

Jason looks down at Kevin. Kevin whimpers. “You’re lucky,” Jason tells him. “Because I just got better plans.”

He snorted, stepping over a moaning body. “Yeah, babe, I’ll be there. Gimme an hour, gotta handle clean up.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime.”

Tim Drake

Tim is halfway through a security breach at Gotham’s art museum—four silent alarms, three hacked drones, and a migraine blooming behind his eyes.

He doesn’t even register the buzzing until it’s the fourth vibration in his pocket.

[Incoming Call: Self-care Police ✋🏼]

His whole body untenses when he sees your name. He slips into a maintenance alcove, pulling off his hood for a moment.

“Hey,” He answered with a blink, rubbing his eyes.“Everything okay?”

“Just checking in,” you notice his whispering and consequently start whispering too. “Didn’t want to interrupt, but… will you swing by after?”

His brain goes into overdrive.

Did something happen? Did I miss a text? Are you upset? Am I being distant again?

You must hear the silence stretch, because you add, “Only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” He says so fast it may as well of been one word.

You laugh, tired and sweet. “Okay.”

“And your sure your okay?”

“Yeah. Just… wanted to hear your voice.”

Tim’s brain lagged two seconds behind his heart.

“You don’t have to stay long, I know your busy, just… I dunno. Night’s been weird. I miss you.”

Tim presses his back to the wall and exhales. “You know you could’ve just texted that and I’d be there as soon as I’m done with these goons.” Instead of making me panic, but he decides not to say that.

“I like your voice.”

He paused. Swallowed. “…I like yours too.”

He smiles, cheeks pink even in the dark. “You want anything on the way?”

“Just you,” you say. “But if you pass a place with cookies…”

“I’ll call Alfred,” he says. “Be there in an hour.” He tugs his hood back on, suddenly happier.

Damian Wayne

Robin crouched on a gargoyle overlooking Gotham’s financial district, eyes scanning for movement. The city glinted below like broken glass.

Red Robin and Spoiler are arguing over comms what pizza toppings are better when Damian’s phone buzzes.

[Incoming Call: Beloved 🫥]

He exhaled through his nose before answering.

“What is it?”

“I—hi to you, too.”

He frowned. “Apologies, Drake and Brown have been going at it for three hours. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, everythings fine- this isn’t a bad time right?”

“Theres never a bad time for you, beloved. Besides its been a quiet night, well in terms of crime anyway.”

“Oh cool…I just… was wondering if you might stop by after patrol.”

Silence.

“…You are requesting my presence?”

You blinked on the other end. “I mean, I’m not summoning you with a blood seal, Damian. I just miss you.”

“…I shall arrive at two.”

“Oh. That’s—specific.”You pause. “…You sure? I don’t want to bother you…”

Damian scowls. “Do not insult me with foolish questions.”

You smile into the phone. “Okay, okay. I just—missed you today.”

He shifts, tone softening. “I missed you as well.”

“You did?” you tease.

“I’m hanging up now.”

You laugh. “Okay. I’ll leave the light on.” A soft smile bloomed on your face. “Bye, Dami.”

“See you soon, beloved.”He hung up, still staring out over the city but now, with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Duke Thomas

Signal was leaning against the side of a building, his golden armor reflecting the moonlight. Red Robin had wanted Signal to cover him tonight, so thats what he was doing. Was he regretting being conscious right now? Maybe, but who was he to say no?

He was about to follow some thugs below him when his phone pings.

[my sunshine 😮‍💨]: hey if you’re not doing anything after, can you come by?

He quickly looks at the text before dropping down below, beating the guys as fast as he can. The second he’s done he pulls out his phone and reads the text again, before hitting the call button.

“Yo!” he says as soon as you pick up, chipper as ever. “Are you ok?”

“I just wanted to know if you could swing by after patrol.”

A pause, and faraway shouts can be heard. “Hang on. Hold please—”

There’s the sound of grunting, a thud, “—okay, now that guy’s not going anywhere,” he says casually, like he didn’t just knock someone out cold. “Anyway. Swing by? Absolutely. What’s up?”

“Nothing really,” she admits. “I just… miss you.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” Duke doesn’t say anything else for a second.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I love that you called.”

“I love that you answered.” He clears his throat, Then his voice comes back soft, golden as streetlight. “I’ll bring that sandwich you like. Want anything else?”

“Just you.”

“Baby,” he says dramatically. “You’re gonna make me trip on my own ego.”

“Be safe.”

“Aren’t I always? See you soon.”

[alchemistc]

Yet another post-8x17 fic because I can't help myself

stories of a dead man

Buck stares at the text for a good ten minutes, trying to come up with something to respond with.

Tommy - Tommy knows him. Can somehow discern tone from the way he writes his texts, makes leaps that would seem wild coming from anyone else but he's never wrong and Buck had - God Buck had taken advantage of that so fucking often. Had been so desperately happy not to have to over-explain himself, to just be, and be known, and... and he hates that he hadn't made the effort back, that he made it all about hims-

Doing okay, thanks.

And then:

How about you?

Tommy bubbles him immediately.

The bubbles disappear.

The bubbles reappear, and settle there for a long, long moment.

Then nothing, for an amount of minutes he's not counting off in his head, he swears.

He's considering tossing his phone across the room in a fit of pique when it vibrates with an incoming call.

He stares. He stares some more. He stares a little bit longer and then swipes before Tommy loses interest and decides Buck isn't worth the time he's taking.

"Hey, Tommy," he says, and hopes it sounds normal.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hi."

Tommy laughs.

Buck had always taken special pleasure in hearing that laugh, rich and wry and sometimes, when Buck caught him off guard, just a little giggly. It was a badge of honor to get the belly laugh. This is soft, quiet, short, but it's still - Buck feels a swell of something in his chest. Tries to tamp it down because they - they're not -

"So tell me how you're actually doing," Tommy says, and the swell travels up into his throat, and tears immediately spring to his eyes because he fucking tried - he tried not to make it a thing and - and it's kind of not fair that Tommy could just, like, glean from six words that Buck was lying.

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Three separate punctuation marks, Buckley? C'mon."

The laugh that bubbles up makes the tears dip out of the corner of his eyes, and he doesn't want to do this, doesn't want to feel this, doesn't want to burden yet another person with all the feelings he's been throwing around.

"Evan," Tommy says, like it's important, like it means something, and that - well that's just not fair.

"Tommy," he manages to choke out, and then it's time for the waterworks, apparently.

He says some things, through the tears. If someone asked him to recite it back, he couldn't tell you a fucking word, but he knows he says things, because Tommy's there on the other end of the line with his hums and his quiet reassurances, and Buck - he could recite each of those back without a problem, even the little 'tch' noises he makes when Buck says something he doesn't like. He gets one for apologizing, another when he tries to talk about Eddie and can't make it through the explanation, one for the bitten off half-compliment to Gerrard for being a decent human being most of the time. He gets an amused snort when he tells Tommy about googling confession in his Jeep outside Bobby's church, and absolute silence when he admits that he's not - that he can't - that he doesn't have this. That no one needs him.

When he catches his breath, Tommy's quiet on the other end of the line.

"What - Evan, what do you need from me?"

To not have set in motion the worst fucking eight months of Buck's life, for one.

That's not - that's not entirely fair. He'd jumped the gun, hadn't he? Made it all about his own wants without ever checking in with Tommy so of course - of course he'd run. And then when he'd tried again Buck had lost his temper so spectacularly that -

"No one will talk about him," Buck says, once he's had a second to think about it, and Tommy sighs, low and quiet and Buck thinks - yeah. That's a stupid ask. Tommy lost him too.

"I ever tell you about the time he tried to teach me how to prep a turkey?" Tommy asks, and Buck sinks against the wall, tips his head between his knees, and doesn't bother to wipe away the tears as Tommy leads him through a story he's never heard before about a man he'll never have new stories for again.