#turbo pascal

[arjorge1987]

Delphi 1.0 para Windows 3.1

[dimalink]

Frinsh – game like tic tac toe – but without logic

Now, if final stage, there is one more game with programming language Pascal. Game is written with Free Pascal. And it will go with pack Basic Pascal games.

So, Basic Pascal pack already have some games. You can download them from website Itchio, GameJolt or author’s website. There is standalone page for every game at author`s website, with special decoration each game. And, also, a theme with Basic Pascal games. And GameJolt and Itchio – you can download all pack. At authors website you can do it too.

And development is almost finished. It is some style of Tic Tac Toe. But it is not them. Game field here is another. 5 by 4. Size. And 20 cells.  Why there are 20 cells? And, it is very simple. By format of sprites. And sprites by themself are taken from Pond Game. It is also written in Free Pascal. And this game was taken as a code, as a base.

So, I make my dreams come true. As, I finished Pond Game, I, already, had several ideas. And, also, a some game with a cells grid. It is a realization.

Game is simple. And it is not a logic game. But base is taken from Tic Tac Toe. You need to make turns, one by one. Three are playing. Insect, fish and frog. You can choose what creature you will play. And you need to make doubles. This means, that you gain score for vertical or horizontal lines, that is made from two creatures. Only vertical or horizontal, and only with two elements. And, next, you cannot set into near cells. Maximum, you can do an angle. And everyone is going after another. Game is for fun. And it has no logic. Simply, make turn place you want and make doubles. And this is all. Everyone is doing this. And having fun.

Have fun with animals at the pond. It is like these. This game in someway continue ideas of games about pond. And it is made with little less powers, that was put into it. So, it is already taken complete graphics from Game Pond. And, just, it was written new gameplay. That’s why game is little more simple looks, and visually it looks like Pond Game. But, as gameplay, it is already new game.

So, it is interesting about title of the game. Game is Frinsh. English name. It is like – Frog Insect Fish. So, part of words. As characters in game, they are taking role into the game. Brother has made this title. I, as myself, title this game as code name Pond 2. And, I was thinking, for a long time, about final name. And, I ask brother to help. He played it and made a decision.

Game is made with 1 level. One match. With rules like Tic Tac Toe. You played. And that’s all. So, it goes fast. 4 minutes, or even less. So, this is for with all cinematics if to watch from start to the end. And game itself is about 1 minute, maximum. Or even half minute match. It goes. I think it is good for relax in office or at home. To remove stress. Or such fun. Or retro. And, here, there are pictures from debug of the game. So, I checked how it goes. And, fun and free time – it is a main thing! And good mood!

 Basic Pascal pack

 Authors website: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/games/basicpascal/index_eng.html

Itchio: https://dimalink.itch.io/basic-pascal

GameJolt: https://gamejolt.com/games/BasicPascal/773385

[hawkuletz]

[hostess-of-horror]

Started researching for my Grim Reaper OC to ship King Candy with and this is basically what their relationship is like:

[living-dead-guyy]

grogu helmet.

i have spoken.

[strang3lov3]

WAAAAAH! This is a gem. I was proud to see it become the masterpiece that it is. I love you DD!

Xerox

Pairing: 90sXerox!Pedro(Jamie Diaz) x f!reader

Summary: Jamie is a shy young man who doesn’t know what he’s in for.

Warnings/Tags: MDNI(18+ only), nervous Jamie, he really isn’t sure what he’s doing, flirting, fingering(f!receiving), unprotected PinV(be smart don’t do this), cumshots, copier shenanigans, if I missed anything that should be added let me know!

A/N: Thank you much to @beefrobeefcal and @strang3lov3 for their eyes and enthusiastic encouragement on this, without them this would not be a thing. Thank you @jay-zzle as always for the moodboard cause I was gonna cry not knowing how to add the GIF thing because I am canva dumb. Thank you to @merz-8 and Bug again for helping me come up with a name

@saradika-graphics for the dividers

Masterlist||AO3

It was just another day for Jamie. Get up, work at the copy shop, help people with their stacks of papers, and continue on like any other boring day. He was standing at the copier in the back, keeping track of the amount of papers coming out. He had been pinching pennies as best as he could to ensure he had enough for his books this coming semester. The last thing he needed was his boss, Kent, taking out copy fees from his paycheck like the last time he didn’t pay attention.

“Jamie!” Kent hollered, pulling his jacket on as he exited his office, “I’m heading out to lunch. Watch out!” He cackled, “Looks like the pretty lady’s on her way back here. Must want a piece of you, boy!” he added with a wink.

“Oh, I uh- I doubt that,” Jamie said, his cheeks and neck turning a bright red, “She just comes here 'cause it’s cheap.”

“Well, whatever it is,” Kent huffs a laugh, knocking his fist against the door frame, pointing a finger at Jamie, “Keep doing it.”

“Sure thing,” Jamie mutters, watching Kent leave the back office, “Sure thing.”

The bell above the door jingles as Kent makes his way outside with a morning ma’am as he holds the door open for you. The woman who has been inside this store more times than Jamie can count on his fingers and toes combined. You just started showing up, needing copies of the most random things. Fliers for a barbeque you were hosting, a missing cat flier for your dear friend, your boss demanding copies of a flier for half off on his wife's cheap crafts that she’s had a hard time selling, the list goes on and on. 

You’re gorgeous but Jamie can’t tell if you like him or not. Surely a woman like you wouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like him. You’re older than him. He knows because you asked him his age once, then let out a boisterous laugh when he responded with a shy ‘twenty-four’ - commenting how you wouldn’t have pegged yourself as the type, whatever that was supposed to mean. Jamie always prays to whatever higher power there may be that he doesn’t pop a boner the moment you walk through the door, your clothes leave little to the imagination every single time you visit and the way you push your tits together makes him want to lean over the counter and place his head between them and never come up for air.

“How can I help you?” Jamie asks, approaching the front desk, trying not to stare at how much cleavage the simple sundress you're wearing shows off.

“Hello Jamie,” you purr, smiling at him and tapping your nails against the wooden countertop. “Today, I’m here for something a little more… personal.”

“Uh, okay,” he squeaks, eyes bouncing from your tits up to your face, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows nervously, “What uh- what that might be?”

You let out a sly smile, humming as you tilt your head, your eyes tracing over his features. His hair looks so soft- you bet it would feel like satin through your fingers, the cute dimple on his face when he lets a shy smile grace his lips, and the way his chest puffs out as he stands taller, trying to gain some confidence.

“Well,” you start, his eyes widening as you slink around the counter, heels clicking with every step, “I was thinking - and really, it’s just a thought - but maybe I could see how the copies are made?”

“Uhm,” Jamie hesitates, thick fingers scratching his head, “I don’t kn- I-I mean- m-my boss would probably get pretty mad about that.” He stutters out, as you inch closer to him.

“Is he here?”

Jamie shakes his head back and forth, flinching as your hands skate up his arms, looping your arms around his neck.

“Well then,” you grin, slipping your fingers between the curls at the nape of his neck, batting your lashes at him, “What could the harm be in showing me some behind the scenes?”

Jamie nods dumbly, his arms staying limp at his sides, “O-okay,” he stutters out, “J-just this once.”

—

“Well,” Jamie murmurs, flicking on the light of the backroom, “This is it.”

“Hmm… So this is where the magic happens, huh?” you ask, letting a faint giggle escape your lips as you walk towards the copy machine at the back of the room.

“Y-y-yeah,” Jamie laughs nervously, letting out a harsh snort that sounds eerily like a pig. He coughs roughly trying to cover up the sound of the piggy snort he’d just let out as his cheeks flamed like a tomato in the sun. You turn, looking him up and down with a grin. Oh, he’s cute.

“You gonna show me how to make a copy, Jamie?” You ask innocently, thrumming your fingers against the top of the white machine.

“Uhm,” Jamie swallows, stepping towards you like a scared animal, “S-sure.”

He grabs a manilla folder from the tray beside the copier, taking out a small stack of papers.

“So you just, uh, slide them in this tray,” Jamie says, carefully placing the papers into the top tray, “And then you press this button that says start,” he continues, pressing the button ever so gently as the machine hums to life, sucking the papers in, “And that’s it. Then you just stand here and wait for it to be done.”

“Fascinating!” You exclaim, bending over to watch as the papers shoot out below.

“Then you pull the originals out and place them back in their folder,” he explains, grabbing the folder again, keeping his eyes trained in front so he doesn’t look at you, “And then you grab the copies and place them in with the original. Usually, the copies are really warm.”

You reach your hand over, placing your palm against the warmth of the fresh paper, and let out a satisfied hum.

“Toasty!” you giggle, “So do you only make copies of the stuff you’re supposed to?”

“Yeah,” Jamie sighs, “My boss has some pretty strict rules.”

You pout, looking into Jamie’s big brown eyes. “Well that’s no fun.” You frown, “I bet you could make some interesting copies.”

“Interesting copies?” Jamie asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“Sure,” you say with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, “Don’t most copiers have a flat part on them? Not just this shoot thingy?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jamie says, gripping the thick plastic edge pushing it up with a small grunt, “Right here.”

“Perfect!” You clap, before inching the skirt of your dress up. Jamie’s eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck as he sees the trimmed curls covering your mound.

“Uh…” Jamie hesitates, unable to tear his eyes away from the glorious site before him, jaw slack and eyebrows near the top of his skull, pointing to your crotch with a single finger, “I- uh- uhm- you.”

You let out a laugh, gripping his shoulder with one hand while the other holds the copier to hoist yourself up onto the flat surface, making sure to spread your thighs to give him a good look at your glistening pussy.

“Brrrr,” you let out a breath squirming, skin rippling with goosebumps as the cool glass hits your naked ass and thighs, “Little chilly.”

Jamie nervously steps back, unsure of what to do. His jeans growing tighter against his groin the longer he stares.

“Now where is that start button?” you huff, moving your legs to find it, “Ah-ha!” You announce, punching the button with your finger to start. The copier hums to life, a bright line of light scanning your ass and thighs, and swooshes out a perfect copy of your bottom half. You smile, admiring the copy of yourself, looking up at Jamie standing like a horny scared rabbit caught in a trap.

“Come here, cutie.” You curl your finger beckoning him closer. Jamie hesitantly moves forward. You smile as you flip the picture around for him to see. “Does it look good?”

Jamie lets out a pathetic, “Oh d-d-dear,” sounding almost identical to Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, and audibly gulps while furiously nodding his head.

“You ever fucked someone?”

“Uh- uhm-“ he starts, before you shush him, laying your hand gently on his forearm. “It’s okay if you haven’t,” you assure him.

“I have!” Jamie protests, wide panicked eyes bouncing back and forth between your own, “J-j-just not with s-someone like you.”

“No worries, sweetheart,” you smile, letting out a soft sigh and looping your fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer to cage him in between your thighs, “I’ll help.”

His breath mingled with your own as those brown eyes glanced down at your lips, leaning in to brush his pouty lips against yours with a deep sigh. You smile into the kiss, nipping his bottom lip with your teeth causing him to gasp, allowing your tongue to glide into his warm mouth, easily taking the lead. Your hands slide up his torso to his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck deepening the kiss. Your lips trail down his jaw to the pulse point of his neck while he lets out a small whimper.

“You can touch,” you comment, sucking lightly against his neck, reaching for his hands that are still dangling at his sides unsure, leading them to your center. He lets out a harsh sigh when his fingers brush against your slick folds. You moan, guiding his fingers to that sensitive bundle of nerves, showing him the perfect amount of pressure to use that causes your toes to curl. “Oh fuck,” you sigh, as he slips two of his fingers into your wet hole. His breath becomes ragged, watching as your eyes gloss over from the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Feel good?” He asks with an awkward huskiness.

“Mhmm,” you nod, feeling the warmth spreading through your body, hands reaching to undo the button of his jeans, “Fuck,” you groan, feeling that band tightening in your core as his fingers begin to move faster, “Don’t forget the clit, baby,” you remind as his hand fumbles between your legs.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, swirling circles around your clit with his thumb. He helps you push his jeans and boxers down with his free hand, hard cock standing at attention, leaking from the flushed tip. You let out a frustrated whine when he removes his fingers, gripping his cock to swipe it along your entrance.

“Fuck,” you moan, growing impatient, “Just put it in already.”

Jamie nods dumbly, punching his length in like a straw going into a caprisun.

“Fuck!” he yelps, tightly wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily. Gently, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, running your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him as his cock twitches bumping against your walls.

“Move, baby,” you whisper, softly kissing his cheek. Jamie takes a deep breath pulling out, letting out a sharp whine as he sinks back into you. “Just like that,” you hum, sliding one of your hands to where you’re both connected, swirling your fingers in steady circles around your clit, your walls tightening around his cock. “Oh god! Don’t stop,” you moan, your grip on the back of his neck getting tighter.

“Fuck,” Jamie hisses, his body trembling, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats over and over, thrusting his hips against you three more times before he pulls out. Ropes of his come shooting out onto the flat surface of the copier and your sex. You sigh sadly, looking at the streaky white mess he made covering your inner thighs and core. His hard length jutting out above the glass surface.

Perfect. 

You giggle, pressing the start button, watching Jamie’s eyes trace the flash of light under you, hearing the swoosh of paper coming out. You grab it excitedly with a shimmy of your shoulders, pushing Jamie back a little to hop off the copier, come sliding down your inner thighs, leaning up you give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for the keepsake, sugar,” you wink, walking out of the backroom.

Tagging some who seemed interested when I shared the WIP Wednesday of this 😅 @almostempty @ace-turned-confused @whocaresstillthelouvre @pedroswife69 @94namkooksworld

Thank you for reading! Let me know what y’all think! ❤️

[arcanefox207]

Pedro Pascal Gladiator II Behind the Scenes

Coming back from lunch and I turned on the turbos to gif this for you guys. TWO versions with and without text for your preference!

🧡 Please use and enjoy my gifs as you please! Reblogs appreciated🧡 Gif requests are open!

G I F N O T I F I C A T I O N S | G I P H Y

[microgeneration]

Turbo Pascal (1986)

[arjorge1987]

40 años de TURBO PASCAL!

Corriendo en hardware real!

[strang3lov3]

Me on my way to reblog my new favorite chubby p-boy

I do wonder if chubby whiskey will end up taking his place though 🤔 each of your chubby p-boys are so well written, and every fic is better than the last 🩷

You have frustrated me to a level previously unknown to myself with this fic. This fucking BASTARD. I cannot cannot cannot wait for more 🤩🩷 well done as always beef!! 🥩

an Ezra & Cricket One Shot: Brass Knuckled Debauchee Summary: Ezra, after abusing your healing talents, returns to make good on his debt... for a price.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 4,752

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), weight gain, eating, edging, soft!dom Ezra being an overall ass, teasing, begging, crying, malfunctioning prosthetic limb, the occasional swear

Author's Notes: requested by two (count'em - 2!) lovely babes for the 900 Friendo Celebration - thank you to @xdaddysprincessxx and @morallyinept for bringing Ezra some love.

Huge thank you to @strang3lov3 , @noxturnalpascal & @bitchesuntitled for their beta badass skills and to my ever lovely beta fish, @neverwheremoonchild. None of you will understand the depths of gratitude I hold you all in.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You’d cared for him when his appendage was newly parted from his person, after a young woman dumped him off at your meagre midwife’s centre.  

You hadn’t delivered a baby in at least eight cycles, but you were busy tending to broken bones and crushed limbs from the mine nearby, so the idea of caring for a wound caused by a missing arm wasn’t far from your everyday.  

What was far from the standard men in your care was that this one wouldn’t shut up. Truly. You’d never met someone so close to death spew such a narrative. You almost wished to have him out of his misery just to stop his linguistic vomit.  

Thank Kevva for sedatives.  

You didn’t even want to know his name, worried that if you had his, he’d need yours and there was no way someone this sick and wounded that could carry on like he’s memorized a thesaurus wasn’t capable of performing a hex or a curse on you. 

After three blessedly quiet and devoid-of-narration days, the open wound where his arm once hung from was no longer festering and the fever that wracked his body broke. Despite your own desire to keep him silent, you stopped administering such a high dose of the sedative, and you allowed him to regain consciousness.  

For the first little while, all you heard was his steady, deep breathing, so you left the room to grab some water and liquified sustenance for him, figuring that when he would finally come to, he’d be hungry. 

“To what do… do I owe the pleasure?”, you heard croaked as you walked softly back into the room.  

“Oh good…”, you replied flatly. “You’re awake and talking.” 

The remainder of his stay that time had revolved around you doing what you could to keep his mouth occupied enough to keep it quiet; you fed him. By the time he’d left, he’d made you aware of his name – Ezra – and bestowed a nickname on you for lack of giving your own. Cricket. He then made the terrible promise to return to see you and left with a wink and a smile.  

Your whole body bristled at the thought of having to deal with him again. 

***** 

The first return visit he made, his confidence and vocabulary were still obnoxiously inflated. Whining of a bruised rib, you resumed your frustrated feeding to keep him down to two to three sentences and responses between mouthfuls.  

The second time he returned, he stated that he had been ‘brutalized by a deviant, one who you should not even be told of his true form else your fragile and virtuous mind be stained’. There wasn’t a single mark on him, save for a bite on his only arm that looked to be self-inflicted. He enjoyed himself, smiling between bites of food. 

By the third visit – complaining of a sprained toe - you knew that he knew that you knew what you were doing - and vice versa. Despite this, you fed him, and he ate very well. After several days of ‘healing’, he hauled himself up and it was then that you noted his flight suit looking like it was getting tighter around his middle.  

Those visits happened in a fairly rapid succession, but a longer period – more than six cycles at least - lapsed before he darkened your doorway and approached your desk once again. Without even looking up, you knew it was him, having heard his cavalier long-form salutations being crooned out at anyone he passed approaching your unit. 

“What now?”, you sighed in irritation, dropping your head into your hand, not bothering to look up at him – something you would come to regret to save yourself future embarrassment. You didn’t see him close your door and lock it behind him.  

He approached your desk, and his hand came into view along with a mechanical one; the smooth-as-silk tongued devil was now outfitted with a prosthetic arm that looked like it had been stolen from a brass skeleton and had gears added. Your eyes followed the mechanical limb up to the hem of his shortened sleeve, hiding the joint between it and what remained of his actual arm. The new colour of his clothing caught your attention, too, pulling your eyes to his torso. Yes, it was definitely a different colour. He was no longer in the moss greens and soil browns you’d associated with him. Now, he was in a dark blue flight suit with a gold zipper that looked to just be barely holding together.  

Your brain paused to take in what was in front of you.  

“No more chirps for me, sweet Cricket?” 

His raspy, southern drawl sounded sweeter than you’d noticed before as your eyes took in the added weight on his middle. Before looking up to his face, you noted the way the zipper rippled from the strain and the clear indent his belly button made as the fabric pulled taut across his expanse.  

His face. As soon as you took it in, you regretted not doing it first. He’s held you in his big brown eyes’ gaze before, but you’d been able to avoid being trapped. But this time you couldn’t help but let them absorb you. His smile widened as he slightly leaned forward, arms putting further weight on your desk.  

“You seem at a loss for word, Crick-“ 

“You’ve been eating well.”, you managed to croak out in a somewhat aloof-sounding voice, nodding towards his middle.  

He didn’t shrink back at your comment; instead, it seemed to embolden him.  “You started me on a path of decadence that a mere man such as myself isn’t able to easily shake.” 

He stood to his full height, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that all you noticed?”, he grinned, lifting his brass appendage, bringing the crude and simple brass hand to his face, smoothing over his moustache.  

Your lips parted then closed and parted again before you were able to spit out, “I saw y-… I see you got a new… limb.” 

His eyes gleamed at you, seeing his every move had you further in his grasp. You inwardly scowled, chiding yourself on how quickly you were falling under his spell. Narrowing your eyes, you shrugged at him. 

“Looks old.” 

If it stung him, he didn’t show it; he simply kept that smile on his face and continued to look down at you from across the desk. “I’m not its first owner.” 

The pleasantries had only lasted a few more moments before Ezra moved around your desk and hovered over you. 

“I’m here to return the favour, Cricket.” 

“...Favour?” 

“For all the hard work you put into bringing me back to my full health.”, he cooed lowly as his brass hand cooled your cheek with its feather-light touch.  

“It’s nothing... I was just doing my j - “ 

He leaned over you further, cheshire grin pulled menacingly across his face. His voice slipped into a lower pitch and his eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth.  

“Doing your job would have been to send me away when I appeared with erroneous and fabricated injuries and illnesses. You, my sweet Cricket, stepped over and above the threshold of your employment and I intend to repay you for your sweetness in full.” 

You sucked in a few shallow breaths and nervously swallowed. This was a side of him you hadn't seen, assuming that he was a submissive and pliant brat who’d chosen you to dote on him. But no. There was no favour he intended to pay back. He was just sizing you up and wrangling you into his web, and now he was out loud declaring that you were his prey. His eyes were dark and fixed on you, in contrast with the gentle smile on his face.  

“Don’t be nervous, sweet Cricket. You can tend to your own wounds afterwards. Now, let me hear you chirp.” 

His brass arm shot out and gripped your wrist tightly and he pulled you from your seat. Dragging you to the maternity room, he tossed you onto the low soft bed.  

“Ezra!”, you squeaked as your body hit the push mattress below you.  

He dropped to his knees and crawled up, forcing your legs apart, and his belly barely grazed your middle as his face lined up with yours. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

“Oh, sweet Cricket. How badly I wanted you on your back, making those sweet vocalizations your namesake promised me.” 

His flesh and bone hand gently grazed your face and moved to the back of your head, softly fisting your hair, forcing your head to stay still as he traced his nose along the contours of your face. His eyes remained half lidded and he watched as your own rolled back when he pushed his knee into the crux of your thighs, knowing he had all but your verbal consent.  

“This is all you need, sweet Cricket? Someone to light the way?” 

All you can muster as his hold on your hair tightened and his knee applied more pressure was a light whine through your parted lips.  

You wanted to respond, but the moment you opened your mouth, Ezra’s brass arm made a clunk sound and began to shudder.  

“Oh, for Kevva’s sake.”, he muttered, sitting up on his knees as he examined the arm. It made a mechanical sound before it shuddered again, then a higher pitched noise droned as the arm vibrated.  

You watched him sitting between your parted legs as the realization of what he had at his disposal dawned on him. Your eyes widened as he turned and looked at you like a starved man with a wild grin.  

“Sweet Cricket, I think I could go for a bite to eat.” 

***** 

Once you’d gotten some finger foods together and brought them back into the room, you found Ezra laid back in a mountain of pillows on the bed. He nodded his head towards you and raised his hand, beckoning you to him.  

“Come on, Cricket. Tend to your weary traveller.” 

His eyes were glued to you, cascading up and down your form, as you hand fed him. He’d had a few pieces of the savoury pastries when you felt the cool touch of his brass hand slide between your thighs.  

“Curious...”, he mused as he chewed. “… that when I make a certain motion with my appendage, it malfunctions in such an amusing manner that I know you will find benefit in, pet.” 

Your brows furrow in question and before you can ask how that could benefit you in any way, the arm made that clunk sound again. You felt the vibration between your thighs and your eyes widened.  

“Ez – oh fuck!”, you gasped as he pushed his knuckle up against your mound and held it there firmly. 

Your mouth was open, allowing shallow panting breaths to puff out and your eyes were closed with your brows pinched as the shuddering vibrations pulsed against you. You’d never felt anything like this before in your life and you thanked Kevva.  

The low amber tones of his voice cut through to you and pulled you out of your silent prayer. “Now, sweet Cricket. We are both here to derive enjoyment from one another given we both now have the intel on each other’s vices. You can’t go holding out on me to seek your fruition – that is not fair.” 

He pulled his hand from contacting your core, and your eyes snapped to his, a pleading whimper bubbling out from your pouting lips.  

“Uh-uh, Cricket. We will play fair.”, he growled in warning. His smile dropped as his features darkened, and he nodded towards your suspended hand holding a small meat-filled pastry. “Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

Shakily, you brought the morsel to his mouth and as he took it in and let his tongue touch your finger, his hand once again pressed against your core. 

***** 

Ezra had continued to eat and finished over half of platter. But every time you started to get close to your peak, he would pull his hand away, leaving you a shaking mess. 

“P-please… Ezra, please!”, you begged mere seconds away from ecstasy.  

“I am not finished, sweet Cricket.”, he said with a mouthful. “You will be sated when I have found my fill, and we are not yet there.” 

You could have screamed at him, strangled him in a rage. “Ezra please! I - ”. 

The warning look he gave you stopped any further pleading. Your mind reeled, trying to find some way to get relief. You could kick him out and try to finish yourself off with your fingers, but you knew it would be fruitless; you’d never gotten this worked up on your own before and you doubt that you had anything in this clinic that vibrated at that frequency.  

As you trembled and panted, Ezra watched, amused at how clearly you were seeking a solution to the problem he’d created for you.  

“Cricket…”, he cooed, soothing his biological hand up your arm and to your face. He gently guided your chin towards him. “Sweet Cricket, come back to me.” 

When your frantic gaze met his, his eyes softened and creased as he smiled. “I will not leave you unfinished. I repay my debts, darling nurse.” 

You sighed in defeat, nodded, and took a deep breath. Your eyes trailed down to his noticeably rounder middle that made the already strained zipper pull at the seams of the fabric. He shifted in what looked like discomfort.  

You put down the current half-filled plate of food and reached for the zipper tag, tugging it down. It only got to the beginning of the swell of his belly before you met resistance. You tugged a little harder, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Suck it in.” 

“Now, Cricket, let’s not be hast-“ 

“I said suck it in.”, you snapped back far more forcefully than intended.  

Ezra froze then nodded. “Sweet girl, I will try, but…”  You saw his middle pull in slightly. “… the profound conundrum I experienced in getting it on…” 

The zipper finally moved, and he groaned as his stomach expanded. “Sweet Kevva… such relief.” 

You were desperate for him to touch you again, but seeing him fat and swollen before you, knowing it was your work that was filling him out. Ezra watched your gaze turn hungry and almost feral. Granted, he felt that way as he watched you teeter on the edge of falling apart over and over. He wasn’t ready to let the power he held over you go, giving him the drive to get through, bite by bite. But that power began to slip the moment his vulnerable and considerably rounder middle exposed, and it left him feeling uneasy and unsure. 

“A change of flavour… is needed, my sweet Cricket.”, Ezra crooned, trying to exude as much confidence he could muster, despite his self-consciousness lingering in the back of his mind. He swallowed down a moan as your blown-pupiled eyes met his. He pushed a faux-confident smile and spoke softer. “Something sweeter, perhaps?” 

Letting a small huff escape, you nodded and got up from the bed, cursing him under your breath for having this much power over you. 

As you stood in the small kitchen area, waiting for the food rehydrator to loudly prepare the freeze-dried baked goods, you didn’t hear Ezra huff and grunt as he got off the bed and saunter into the kitchen. You weren’t alerted to his presence until his belly hit your back and his brass hand went to your hip.  

His nose and mouth pressed against the back of your neck, whispering filth as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed. 

“You leave yourself so vulnerable, sweet Cricket... back to the door, not an ounce of concern…. any rapscallion of low morals could take advantage… of your sweet, supple figure…” 

You let out a light, breathy whine gripping his hand as he kneaded your breast. As much as you wanted his hands on you, you wanted his mouth on your own more, so you pushed your body back against his, making enough room between him and the counter for you to turn around. His brass hand stayed on the curve of your waist, not offering any resistance, and his other hand cupped your cheek, holding it in place while he kissed you softly. His lips moved against yours like he was able to read your mind, or maybe even needed this point of contact as badly as you did. His mouth parted and his tongue pushed for entrance into your mouth, and once it was granted, the kiss fevered and boiled over. You felt your core throb with need and want, soaking your pants and already ruined underwear, and he crowded you against the counter. So wrapped up were you in his mouth and teeth and tongue, that you didn’t feel his brass hand move from your waist. 

In one swift move, Ezra shoved your pants down in the front enough for his brass hand to slip with no barrier into your folds. The cool touch you would have expected from it was long forgotten as the metal now met your body temperature. Still engulfed in the kiss that was beginning to rob your breath, the telltale clunk barely registered in your mind until the vibrations started. Sending a jolt through your body, you pulled your face away from his and let out a shrill gasp.  

The timer on the rehydrator went off, and Ezra chuckled darkly, watching your brows draw together and your eyes flutter.  

“The rules stay the same, Cricket. Sweet or savoury, I will have my fill and you will have your petite mort. But one will meet the other at the same time.”, he said in a wickedly soft tenor. “Now, you can begin holding up your end, sweet girl.” 

Once again, Ezra ripped away any power you might have had or believed you had, edging you with each bite, withholding his metal hand’s vibrations from the moment his mouth was empty to the moment your hand shakily pushed another bite past his lips. Overstimulation mixed with the pent-up fury of being denied an orgasm had you panting rapidly, tears threatening to spill over. High pitched whines and shuddering whimpers were all you could produce, and it was music to Ezra’s ears.  

“You… create the most… glorious cricket song…”, he mused softly as he chewed the mouthful. “Keep chirping, sweet girl…” 

You were coming to a point where you weren’t sure you would make it. Your brain felt like it was filled with the static from a communicator’s blank channel and your hearing and sight felt fuzzy. The coil tightening in your cunt was hitting a painful level, causing you to drop the next pastry you’d picked up with your shaking hands. 

As soon as it hit the floor, Ezra tsk’d you, and pulled his hand right out of your pants. The pained sob that burst from you from the loss of contact was loud and harsh, and the tears finally spilled over, staining your cheeks.  

“P-please… I… I can’t!”, you cried out, jutting your hand out clumsily to grab his wrist as he pulled back. His dark eyes scanned your desperate ones, pausing momentarily, before his gaze shifted to one of pity and amusement. 

“You can’t what?”, he mocked with a cruel grin. “Can’t what, sweet Cricket?” 

A rasped and pained whine peeled out of your throat as your head fell to his shoulder, and his hand gripped your hair and pulled back, forcing you to look at him. You looked ruined. Your cheeks flushed and eyes wet and lidded, your lips parted, turned down and chin quivering. He shoved up back and up onto the counter. 

“Oh, come now, sweet Cricket. Don’t look at me like I won’t give you your due.”, he whispered, ghosting his mouth over yours. His brass fingers traced lurid shapes along your inner thighs, causing your body to shiver and that coil painfully wind up in your core once more.  

“I asked you for something sweeter, pet,”, Ezra mockingly cooed as he pulled back, your face involuntarily following his to try and capture his lips against yours. He shook his head, smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Something sweeter and you dropped it on the floor. It’s precious currency, Cricket, and you mishandled it.” 

Your eyes followed his, stuck in the trance he’d put you under. He could have told you to do anything, given any order and you would have obeyed to your detriment. His brass hand moved to your throat, long, metal fingers grasping just tight enough to keep you precariously seated on the edge of the counter. His thicker middle forced you legs open wide, and his other hand took its place between your legs and without warning, he shoved two fingers into your core.  

Your mouth and eyes widened as a wrecked gasp escaped you and your hands went to grab onto what ever meaty part of him you could grab for stability. Ezra hummed in response as the pads of his fingers felt the walls of your cannel twitch and flutter at his intrusion. 

“Good Kevva, sweet girl…”, he groaned, watching your face contort. “As much as this contraption of a limb can bring me such sadistic joy at your expense, my own digits needed to feel the silken walls of your inner sanctum.” 

As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, he dropped his forehead against yours and hummed again, answering your repeated whining pants and moans.  

“Keep chirping, Cricket… sing me your evening song… that’s it….”  

As you felt your peak come careening in, he felt your walls convulse and slicken up. The soft tenor he’s just lulled you into a steady rhythm with fell away and the low chuckle followed by his fingers being removed made you scream out and dig your nails into the fattened flesh of his upper arm and shoulder. 

“EZ-EZRA! PLEASE! FUCK-PLEASE!”, you sobbed out in a shriek.  

His brass hand’s hold tightened around your throat, and he shoved your shoulders flush with the wall behind counter roughly.  

Your desperate eyes looked him over as best as you could, given the position he had you in. His bloated and full stomach moved with each laboured breath he took and the strain he put himself under to wreck you was fully apparent. You could feel the outline of his clothed hard cock seated against your thigh and the sweat beading on his forehead. He wiped his face and parted his lips to take in deeper breaths; his irises were indiscernible from his pupils as he looked down at you. 

You had never known need like this, and you felt as though you were going to succumb due to your lack of orgasm as a final line in the life that Kevva had written for you. 

“P…please…” 

“Is it my cock you want to be impaled on, pet? You want to whine and mewl while I rut my quiver bone into your sopping celestial cavern?”, he coolly growled, but there was a slight waiver in his voice. You saw the same desperation in the dark abyss of his eyes. 

You nodded dumbly and he scowled, baring his teeth, and tore his brass hand off you, trying to make quick work of getting his flight suit off his shoulders. The arms were tight around his fleshy arms, and you shakily sat up and tried to help. Once his arms were free, you tugged the material over his waist, taking note of the roll of flesh sitting just above his waistband, showing just how much he had been indulging. You gave it a squeeze, revelling in the sound he made, sucking his breath thru his teeth at your fingers.  

“Marvel the fruits of your labour, Cricket… The destination you set me on course to has made me beyond redemption and unfit for galactic adventuring…”, he grunted breathily, shoving his flight suit off his legs before kicking it off entirely. “You have effectively rendered me useless beyond what effect I am able to wield on you.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours before you could respond or ask what he meant, sucking you into a bruising kiss. His hands gripped your hips, pulling your twitching cunt flush with his weeping, hard cock, knocking the plastic plate that held the desserts onto the floor at his feet. Fumbling slightly, he pulled back and gripped his member, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing it in all at once. The sting of his intrusion melded perfectly with the relief of finally connecting, and the sound you made caused Ezra to almost break. His eyes softened and his brows tented, body tense at the gentle yet firm, warm hold you had on him.   

“I’m af-afraid I’ve pushed too far to allow for… for niceties and gentle welcomes, sweet Cricket…”, he panted against your face, teeth clenched as he tried to focus and draw this out as long as possible.  

“Please move...”, you begged in a strained whine.  

“If I move to fast, sweet Cricket, I will... end this fortuitous connection with an... an early release, and that would render me- fuck!... render me less than a gentleman...” 

“You’re no gentleman... now shut up an-and fuck me!” 

It seemed that your tight walls and frantic begging were too much for Ezra, and he pulled out with a grunt, followed by a whine as he came onto the plate on the floor. The vulgar sounds of his panting breaths mixed with the sploot of his spend had you seeing red. 

“You asshole!”, you screeched, shoving him off you.  

He panted and held his hands up in surrender as you charged at him. 

“Cricket... forgive me! You’re too sweet... your sacred cavern was too - “ 

The slap you landed across his face stopped his fancy wordplay. “You fucking bastard!” 

Ezra’s eyes flashed in anger, and he stood to his full height, towering over you.  

“That was uncalled for, Cricket.”, he snarled. “I will take the wrath of meeting an end without you by my side, but I will not allow you to besmirch my good mother with a question of my paternal lineage.” 

You stared at him, eyes wide with anger at his audacity, and before you could say another word, he tackled you to the floor. You tried to fight him off but the moment you heard the clunk of his brass arm and felt two metal fingers punch up into your slick heat, you ceased your struggle.  

“See, sweet Cricket? I may be a wayward traveler, but even I know the dangers of leaving a woman on the precipice of completion... “ 

“Don’t stop... please... don’t stop...”  

The vibrations of his arm and the smooth curves of the worn metal fingers found a rhythm that had you seeing stars.  

“I plan to keep demanding your company each time I move through this sector, and-” 

“Oh Kevva... Ez-Ezra!” 

He leaned forward and ghosted his mouth over yours, speaking in a low, husky growl, “... if I were to fail you now, what kind of welcome would I receive the next time I darken your doorway?” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull and your body arched off the floor. Pent up energy burst from your burning cunt, sending wave after wave of precious release through your body. The scream that peeled out of you was dampened by Ezra kissing you forcefully. 

His movement slowed and he slowly pulled his brass hand from your core. You were greeted with his grin as he looked over his brass hand. 

“You’ve polished only two fingers for me... there are three more.”, he cooed, placing a delicate kiss on the end of your nose. “Next time.” 

“N-next time?” 

He nodded and stood up with a grunt. You sat up carefully, and it seemed you both took note of the plate on the floor, covered in his cum. The chastisement was on your tongue, but never became words out loud as you were struck speechless as you watched him pick up the plate and fling it out the window.  

He turned back to you, standing naked in the kitchen, fat and sweaty, with a grin on his face.  

“There is always a next time, Cricket.” 

[dimalink]

Pascal A B C Net – interesting Pascal

And with the rights of retro programming. I want to tell in shorts about programming language Pascal. And about a certain version of realization Pascal – Pascal Abc.Net. As it was written at authors website - https://pascalabc.net/, it is a system of programming. Simple and modern. For me it is retro theme, as I am a fan of old and cool Pascal. I am speaking about Turbo Pascal.

By the way, and main feature, as for me, - it is interface. Programming system has its own visual style. It is different from classic blue dos window. And programming language, already, at the start has support of Russian language. So, you can print text with Russian language. If you want app with Russian support – this Pascal already has this feature.

 Writeln(‘Привет Мир!’); //Privet Mir!  This means HELLO WORLD!

It will print - Привет Мир!   This is Russian letters, and it is written Privet Mir! This means HELLO WORLD! And it shows it on Russian language, and not as unknown letters.

And I test this Pascal in terms of my two text adventure games. First one - is very short. Test example, as I can say. About a nightmare. And second one – Curse of Sands. For me it is a big piece of text, and translation. And, I programmed it, very fast with Pascal ABC. It was not a big deal. So, it is casual Pascal.

And as a feature, I can say about new interface, it is absolutely new, and pretty good and easy to use. It is with windows orientation. And it is made its own way. But it is simple and easy to use. There is menu with options. Which are also simple and easy to understand. First thing you see, when you start this Pascal - it is about how it looks. A windows for Windows. With its own editor and pack of menus. And it makes it as a cool thing, with compare with standard Pascal with blue screen. It has fully windows interface.

 Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/ DISCORD: https://discord.com/invite/F24Kw7TaH4 TUMBLR: https://dimalink.tumblr.com/

[nhaneh]

@lynxden assuming you meant cpu and not gpu then yes xD

it's basically some of the most memorable and fun moments I've had learning programming has been about doing things the Hard Way™ - doing things manually tends to require you to spend more time thinking about what the computer's actually doing to accomplish the things you ask it to do, which is inevitably a lot more work and often nowhere near as efficient or capable because it's pretty unlikely that you just happen to be smarter than the entire R&D teams they have at Nvidia or Unreal or wherever - but it does force you to learn stuff, at least on a temporary basis.

I mean look, when I first learned how to do proper programming that wasn't just faffing around in Qbasic or whatever, it was on Turbo Pascal in DOS some 25-odd years ago, and I'm kind of forever grateful that when it came to doing graphics, instead of just having us use the built in Borland Graphics API, the teacher taught us how to enter VGA mode 0x13 via direct DOS interrupts, and then how to draw graphics by writing directly to the part of memory that held the screen for that mode.

I still remember the address being 0xA000.

So when I decided I really should take another stab at trying to figure out how the hells matrices work for 2D and 3D transformations a few weeks back, I thought hey why not try doing all of this directly using the Win32 GDI API, BitBlt:ing a framebuffer into the graphics because then I'll also have to re-learn a bunch of stuff that I've more or less forgotten over the years. Plus, there's a part of me that kind of wants to try to take some time to learn at least a little more about software reverse engineering - see if I could ever get to a point where I might be able to look into whether some examples of old games or software that doesn't work so well anymore could be updated to work a bit better.

So, step by step I'm gradually working my way towards a software triangle rasteriser to see about poking around with all of that and I dunno maybe I'll make something small and simple out of it like maybe some vampire survivors-alike or something like the original after burner or maybe even descent or something, who knows.

For now it's mostly a whole lot of googling around, trying to wrap my brain around stuff that feels like I used to find it easier to understand than I do now, and basically just reminding myself why I liked doing some of this stuff, haha.

[savagegardensprogramming]

No affiliation with the music band. I came up with a programming language that makes use of multiple levels of abstraction. And the name SavageGardens fits it nicely

I picked that name thru the following thought process

I wanted to make a next generation programming language. Which, obviously is not easy. Its an attempt to obtain the fruit at the top of a tall tree. Which is always out of reach.

I remembered my early days as a student. When we programmers seeked advice to clear our heads. The advice we received was that we needed to distinguish the trees from the forest. That is a metaphor for abstraction. Pondering around that metaphor finally made something click in my head.

If I wanted to make a revolutionary advancement. What I needed to do was to stop playing in the forest and step back further and look at the landscape. I noticed that most of nature has multiple levels of abstraction. And I had a chance to exploit that because nobody else has done it. That would be my path of innovation to invention.

I did see a two layer abstraction in Turbo Pascal but I am exploiting that idea as far as it goes. Multi layer abstraction is the backbone of my new programming language.

Anyways, this particular post is about the name SavageGardens. Well, broadly speaking I saw that the task at hand was to take raw savage code and tame it. We programmers tame the savageness of the land of code and turn it into orderly gardens. Which are working programs.

I suppose as a kid I did hear of the band Savage Garden and well my brain liked it and insisted to use it to name this new language. I suppose the band did inspire me but still this project has no affiliation with them. Totally separate industry.

[hellojeanclaudequaghebeur]

Patricia Bertapelle 🇫🇷Pascale Bertapelle 🇫🇷#14.Peugeot 205 Turbo 16.Ab ( moteur). Rallye des Garrigues - Languedoc Roussillon 🇫🇷1986

[im-suchanicegirl]

Someone installed a dancing pole in the frat verse, the party is wild, lots of giggles - which strip names the guys choose for themselves?

HAHAHAHAH. Okay.

Pascal is strawberry shortcake, because hair and sweet. He chose it.

Kevin is just known as Thighs of Thunder ™. Thats it. If you know you know.

Dan is iceman. Not his choice but i swear you can see him smirk.

Daniel is Turbo Byte. Fucking nerd.

David is Drumfire David. Lots of polish sausage jokes when he ‘gets on stage’

Nico is Sweet Cheeks. He hates it but all the guys loudly agreed. So he has no choice.

[b9horpet]

#codetober 2023. 10. 08.

Today's progress:

0 keystrokes 🤡

getting inspiration while walking in a botanical garden

brainstorm ideas and evaluate the viability of them

reduce scope for making an MVP and a POC

Are you self taught or were you educated in programming/computer science?

It's a bit complicated. In high school we learned Turbo Pascal and in university I had classes on the basics of programming for physicists or microcontroller programming but never had to learn the theory. I did learn some theory by myself when it came up or I was interested in it.

Most of my knowledge is from self learning and practice, however I didn't have to start from square zero.