#open hardware monitor

[tdd2ddvis]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/production-products--hardware--test-points/5015-keystone-8064685

PC hardware monitor, Security testing, PCB Test Point, Hardware test plan

Miniature Surface Mount Test Points on Tape and Reel

[moonshynecybin]

hi, i hope this isn't weird but you're like a motogp scholar to me and i have a question bc i can't really find an answer; do you know of the medical specifics of marc's arm injury? like ik what happened but i haven't been able to find an article beyond oh he broke it. like is there a reason it's so bad and why he had to get multiple surgeries for it? like was it crushing nerve ends, grinding cartilidge, etc? tysm if u decide to answer

the best and most direct source for this is gonna be marc marquez all in. they’ll show you the bone scans and walk you through the rotation of how it healed and some info about the other surgeries etc but theres also a lot it leaves out about BEFORE that surgery so i'll try and help out. HUGE caveat that i’m not a doctor but the GENERAL info goes like this:

jerez, july 2020: marc fractures his right humerus after the tire of his bike hits it during a highside near the end of the race. he flies to barcelona, gets one million nails and a plate put in himself by perennial motogp bone saw doctor xavier mir, and hopes to show up the next week to race four days after surgery (also in jerez #covid)… at the time its all kinda standard if like. a lil crazy but he is honestly really flippant about the whole thing you get the sense that (like others before him) he kinda thinks what he’s doing is badass. i mean he’s postin this shit on instagram like LOOK AT MEEE

anyways so he is declared fit to ride (NO RADIAL NERVE DAMAGE YAYYY), the test for which seems to be doing decline porno pushups with his cock out. and it’s all kinda like. well this is a short, 13 round championship year, so every race counts and marc has just won four championships in a row (6 out of the last 7 years!!!) and has something fundamentally wrong in his brain. marc voice well yeah jorge lorenzo came back after collarbone surgery in 2013 and it depleted him for years but im different. im better. PLUS it’s alex’s first year in the premier class (also at factory honda which is a can of worms we shant get into) so he’s not as involved in monitoring his insane older brother as he is post-arm saga bc he has shit to do and marc hasn’t missed a GP due to injury at this point since his first bout of diplopia in 2011. hes broken his leg a few weeks before the season before and been fine. marc is marc. so he’s gonna try and race.

anyways! that doesn’t happen lol. marc DOES go out for all the practices (the death nell.) but it’s p clear that the arm is fucking busted. he stresses the injury the fuckkkk out (probably where the bone gets rotated? unsure) and then goes out for one lap of quali and can’t do it anymore, pulls out then and there and is like okay. i’ll rest on it

august 2020: now here’s where i’m like hm. because according to MARC, he is a perfect angel doing PT until he randomly opens a glass sliding door one day and the arm rebreaks (SHOULD be kinda impossible with all the hardware in him lol). i frankly suspect that he was also doing motorcross training to put more stress on it bc he mentions that his people have had to remove the wheels from his personal bikes to stop him from training before (to be fair i think this was during the shoulder rehab he was doing during the 2019/20 winter) and like. you don’t get that kinda policing from the guys who love you without some previous behaviors lmao. also literally he was posting himself doing weight training on that arm on tiktok the day before as evidenced below. i digress but the bone is broken!!! and he gets more surgery from dr. xavier mir. and oh boy does it heal wrong

so there’s not a lot of updates in this time bc marc is like. in his cave in cervera rehabbing like wow what a setback gee i sure can’t wait to be back on my bike… like i don’t think it had really set in that this was a lifelong injury yet. and unforch in december it’s revealed that the fracture is not healing, and he needs further surgery. this time he nixed dr mir and went to a specialist clinic in madrid (that’s partly why he moved there !!)

the clinic also discovered there was a previous infection in his bone, which probably halted the healing process further. it should be noted marc does not go to dr. mir for surgery anymore, which genuinely could mean absolutely nothing. he stayed in the hospital on iv antibiotics for ten days

after this and a LOT of time in the sling (12 weeks is best practice who knows what marc practice is lmao) he comes back to motogp in april of 2021 for the portuguese grand prix, with the stated goal of building up strength in his arm and evaluating where he’s at, which tells you how hard that last surgery was on him. in 2021 i think it starts to set in that this isn’t going to go away, and during this whole year and the next he’s in clear pain every time he’s on the bike AND the bike is kinda bad so its just awful hell lol. like yes he does win a few races but he cries every time and you can tell its really getting to him. this is the period that alex talks about where the pain is the worst, and marc is being mean to everyone around him, and he’s taking a lot of painkillers and complaining about having pimples/losing weight on instagram and generally having a miserable time. he calls this period "a nightmare" all the time

okay now we fast forward until 2022. marc has moved to madrid to get a girlfriend to see his bone doctor more. and the pain is NOT stopping. and the bike honestly sucks so hes not winning AND he just had a diplopia relapse so whats the POINT. and he's suffering and can feel the time in his career ticking downward like sand slipping through an hourglass and he goes to the all or nothing nuclear option and reaches out to the mayo clinic in the USA to see a specialist and see if he can do anything for him, disregarding the rest of the 2022 motogp season. and the specialist says yeah. we took a 3D scan of that bone you just spent a year of your life healing and it looks BUSTED AS HELL. truly from the stress he put on that thing while it was still healing it rotated 34 degrees and THATS part of why it hurts so much. its why he has no strength in his elbow, why he can’t brace anything with it, why his range of motion is so limited, why he can’t open a bottle of water by himself. it’s really degrading his quality of life, and most important to marc: its fucking with his riding lol.

and this doctor says well we break the bone again, rotate it back normally, and see how it goes. it could give you less pain and more ability to brake into corners. it could ALSO end your career. and marc sees the bone scans and agrees to surgery p much immediately. and he gets mayo clinic surgery in minnesota and takes hot girl instagram pics outside because of course he does. the craziest part of this article is when the surgeon says marc has "a great capacity for sacrifice"

and he gets another badass scar and thats where we are today! as to where the arm is now. well he says its isnt a normal arm but its more "uncomfy" in day to day life. i dont believe him but thats fine. like he DOES do a lot of maintenance on the arm i think thats fair to say. he has a limited range of motion. mat oxley says he'll wait until he thinks no one is watching and look like hes in pain when hes in the paddock. his gq interview w "essential things" included a massage gun and PT rubber bands. he stretches it out before races p extensively. he has a PT gurney in his living room. idk, he contradicts himself on this fairly regularly in order to suit his rhetorical needs at a given time, but im inclined to believe that hes in a LOT more pain than he lets on, he just also has more mobility to do sports things (his base level on his hierarchy of needs) and is in a lot less pain than he was in 2022. i think theres also a point that marc brings up in the documentary here that should be noted-- he emphasizes that he didnt do this to improve his quality of life (alex is the only one who mentions this actually, and HE makes a deliberate point to) but instead that he did it so he could win. i'd invite you to do with that information what you will !!!

sources: x, x, x, x, x, x

[revlw]

Haii, I love your work sm, I figured I would put a request in.

How about some 007n7 x Reader; but the n7 BEFORE C00lkidd, so he's still an asshole, just with a soft spot for reader.

I don't mind you choosing what happens in the fic, I'll read regardless!

-🐾

⠀ ִ ࣪ ׅ 𐔌ㅤ GHOST LINES

01. | 007N7 X READER

WARNING : Mild Language , Mentions of hacking/exploitation , Light romantic tension

*coughcpugh* Im back *cough*

The buzz of old neon signs flickered through the window, bleeding cyan light across the floorboards of your hideout. Wires coiled like vines across the tile, tangling under terminals, monitors, and one ancient vending machine that only dispensed off-brand Bloxy soda. The air smelled faintly of burning dust and overheating GPUs.

A voice broke the quiet.

“You left your SSH open again.”

You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Was busy frying an exploit. You gonna scold me or help?” you asked without flinching, eyes still fixed on the lines of code spilling across your monitor.

Behind you, 007n7 gave a quiet snort.

He always sounded bored. Even when he wasn’t. “You’re lucky it was me who noticed. Some brat running Synapse X could’ve stripped your kernel bare.”

You spun in your chair with a grin. “Mmhm. But it wasn’t. It was you.”

007n7 stood with one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other holding his ancient flip phone. The Burger Bob hat sat crooked on his head, his eyes half-lidded under the noob mask, though you could tell he was watching you. Observing you. Like he always did.

He wasn’t smiling. He never smiled. But something flickered in his expression—disapproval wrapped in something softer. He walked over, booting your second rig with the toe of his shoe and sinking into the chair beside it.

“Show me what you’re working on.”

You tapped your terminal. “Builderman’s firewall. It’s thicker than usual. Someone must’ve spooked the board.”

007n7 leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “You using the proxy relay we built last week?”

You nodded. “Triple masked. It’s clean.”

He exhaled and nodded, then paused. His voice dipped lower. “Don’t tell anyone you’re targeting Builderman.”

You quirked a brow. “Why?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “Because I said so.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push. This was how he was—rough edges, cryptic mutterings, half warnings wrapped in an almost unnoticeable kind of care. You’d known him long enough to read between the lines.

You tapped a few more keys and the wall of code shifted, revealing a deeper backend. You glanced at him. “You in?”

He smirked—not a real smile, but a ghost of one. “I’m always in.”

You worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the hum of your hardware and the soft, electronic tics of keys being pressed in tandem. It was strange, the way you two clicked. You were different—loud, a little reckless, gleeful in your chaos. He was cautious. Cold. Detached, except when it came to you.

“You ever wonder why you’re still doing this?” he asked suddenly.

You froze. “Doing what? Hacking?”

He tilted his head. “Being here. With me.”

There it was again. That hint of vulnerability buried deep beneath his aloof facade. You stared at him, surprised.

“You say that like you don’t want me around,” you replied, slowly.

He didn’t meet your eyes. “You could’ve joined the Cleaners. Or run with NovaNet. You’re good enough. Better, maybe.”

You leaned back in your chair, watching the light from the monitors flicker across his face. “You think I stayed because of clout?”

He finally looked at you.

You weren’t sure if it was sadness or regret flickering there—just that it was honest. Rare.

“I think you stayed because you’re reckless. And I don’t want that getting you killed.”

You stood and stepped toward him, narrowing the space between you.

“And maybe I stayed because you look out for me. Even if you pretend not to.”

He flinched—barely, but you noticed. “I don’t care.”

You grinned. “Liar.”

He clicked his tongue and turned away, muttering, “I could drop you off the server right now.”

You laughed and leaned in closer. “But you won’t.”

The two of you stared at the screens for a few more minutes. Until suddenly, a low ping echoed from his pocket.

He pulled out the flip phone, eyes narrowing at the screen.

“…Noli’s in trouble.”

You raised a brow. “What kind?”

“The kind that ends with a shadowban and thirty IP traces.”

You whistled. “We better bounce then.”

007n7 didn’t move. He looked at you again—really looked at you.

“…You don’t have to come.”

You stepped past him, grabbing your bag, slotting your USBs into place, slipping your laptop into the case like a sidearm.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m letting you go alone.”

His fingers twitched, and you could’ve sworn—just for a second—he looked relieved.

You’d seen his reputation. Knew what others whispered. That he was selfish. An asshole. A has-been. That no one could trust him.

But you weren’t “others.”

You were his partner.

And when the lights dimmed and the code began to melt into heat maps and firewall warnings, 007n7 tapped into his lesser c00lgui, and in a shimmer of data, you both vanished from the room in a static pop of corrupted light.

Just two ghosts in the machine.

@revlw 2025

[nasa]

Roman's primary structure hangs from cables as it moves into the big clean room at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center.

What Makes the Clean Room So Clean?

When you picture NASA’s most important creations, you probably think of a satellite, telescope, or maybe a rover. But what about the room they’re made in? Believe it or not, the room itself where these instruments are put together—a clean room—is pretty special. 

A clean room is a space that protects technology from contamination. This is especially important when sending very sensitive items into space that even small particles could interfere with.

There are two main categories of contamination that we have to keep away from our instruments. The first is particulate contamination, like dust. The second is molecular contamination, which is more like oil or grease. Both types affect a telescope’s image quality, as well as the time it takes to capture imagery. Having too many particles on our instruments is like looking through a dirty window. A clean room makes for clean science!

Two technicians clean the floor of Goddard’s big clean room.

Our Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland has the largest clean room of its kind in the world. It’s as tall as an eight-story building and as wide as two basketball courts.

Goddard’s clean room has fewer than 3,000 micron-size particles per cubic meter of air. If you lined up all those tiny particles, they’d be no longer than a sesame seed. If those particles were the size of 16-inch (0.4-meter) inflatable beach balls, we’d find only 3,000 spread throughout the whole body of Mount Everest!

A clean room technician observes a sample under a microscope.

The clean room keeps out particles larger than five microns across, just seven percent of the width of an average human hair. It does this via special filters that remove around 99.97% of particles 0.3 microns and larger from incoming air. Six fans the size of school buses spin to keep air flowing and pressurize the room. Since the pressure inside is higher, the clean air keeps unclean air out when doors open.

A technician analyzes a sample under ultraviolet light.

In addition, anyone who enters must wear a “bunny suit” to keep their body particles away from the machinery. A bunny suit covers most of the person inside. Sometimes scientists have trouble recognizing each other while in the suits, but they do get to know each other’s mannerisms very well.

This illustration depicts the anatomy of a bunny suit, which covers clean room technicians from head to toe to protect sensitive technology.

The bunny suit is only the beginning: before putting it on, team members undergo a preparation routine involving a hairnet and an air shower. Fun fact – you’re not allowed to wear products like perfume, lotion, or deodorant. Even odors can transfer easily!

Six of Goddard’s clean room technicians (left to right: Daniel DaCosta, Jill Bender, Anne Martino, Leon Bailey, Frank D’Annunzio, and Josh Thomas).

It takes a lot of specialists to run Goddard’s clean room. There are 10 people on the Contamination Control Technician Team, 30 people on the Clean Room Engineering Team to cover all Goddard missions, and another 10 people on the Facilities Team to monitor the clean room itself. They check on its temperature, humidity, and particle counts.

A technician rinses critical hardware with isopropyl alcohol and separates the particulate and isopropyl alcohol to leave the particles on a membrane for microscopic analysis.

Besides the standard mopping and vacuuming, the team uses tools such as isopropyl alcohol, acetone, wipes, swabs, white light, and ultraviolet light. Plus, they have a particle monitor that uses a laser to measure air particle count and size.

The team keeping the clean room spotless plays an integral role in the success of NASA’s missions. So, the next time you have to clean your bedroom, consider yourself lucky that the stakes aren’t so high!

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[antisextrade]

How to Talk to Your Kids About Porn and Restrict Their Access to It

In an age where access to explicit content is just a click away, addressing the topic of pornography becomes increasingly crucial. However, I've noticed that many parents struggle with how to broach the subject effectively while also implementing measures to safeguard their children's online experiences. Here is a practical guide I've put together on how to start the conversation about porn with your kids and restrict their access to it:

Start Early:

A Common Sense Media survey found that the average age at which most children are exposed to pornography is 12 years old; 15% first saw pornography when they were 10 years old or younger. So, start the conversation early and keep it age appropriate. You can always expand upon it as they grow older.

Educate and Create an Open Environment:

Empower your kids by educating them in an honest and ongoing conversation about the harms of porn. Encourage your children to ask questions and express their thoughts and concerns without fear of judgment. Let them know that they can come to you with any worries or uncertainties they may have about what they see online.

To help facilitate these conversations, consider using this conversational blueprint on how to talk about porn with them or utilize resources such as Culture Reframed's free courses. These courses provide parents with valuable knowledge, skills, and confidence to discuss the role of pornography in today's culture with young people. They emphasize the importance of explaining to children why and how pornography can be harmful, while reinforcing the message that they should never feel pressured to engage in any intimate activity that makes them feel uncomfortable, ashamed, or frightened.

Alternatively consider reading "How to Talk to Your Kids about Pornography" by Dina Alexander, Amanda Scott and Jenny Web or the free guide "How to Talk to Kids About Pornography" by Defend Young Minds.

Additionally, show your child the porn critical documentary miniseries "Brain, Heart, World," consisting of three episodes aimed to be an educational resource for those in middle school and older.

Use Technology Safeguards:

Utilize parental control software, hardware, internet filters and built-in mobile and tablet settings to restrict access to inappropriate websites (and social media if you want to go further). Familiarize yourself with the privacy settings of the devices and platforms your child uses, and regularly monitor their online activity.

Restrict access to mobile and tablet: Both mobile phones and tablets have built-in settings to restrict access to adult websites, including pornographic websites. One can either set up such restrictions from the parent’s mobile (family group) or on the child’s mobile and tablet directly. To do this:

Apple mobile phones and tablets:

On the child’s device: Go to settings. Select Screen Time. Select this is my device, or your child’s device. Choose Content and Privacy. Select Content Restrictions. Select Online Content and Restrict Adult Websites.

From your device: First, you need to create your own Apple ID for kids (your child must be signed in to the mobile or tablet with this account). Enter Screen Time. Select your child. Choose Content and Privacy. Enter a code. Select Content Restrictions. Select Online Content and Restrict Adult Websites.

Android mobile phones and tablets:

On your child’s device: Go to the browser with this link here and turn on “secure search.” Read more about this here. Remember that children can turn this on and off unless you use the option below.

From your device: First, create a Google Account for each of the children younger than 13 (your child must be signed in to their mobile or tablet with this account). Install the “family link” app. Open the app. Find your child’s name in the app. Select Manage Settings. Select Google Chrome. Select Try to Block Websites That Aren’t Child-Friendly. Also, select Safe Search inside Google Search in the Family Link app.

Install software: These programs (apps) can give parents a lot of control. Many of them require paid subscriptions, although some have free trials.

Explore options based on your family's budget and needs**.** Here are some examples: Bark, Relay, Raise, Gabb, Canopy, Pinwheel, Net Nanny, MobiCrip, Qustodio, OurPact.

Review the settings**.** Try out free trials from reputable companies to get a sense of what they offer. Options can range from blocking certain websites (not just porn) to getting alerts if your child uses specific search terms. Look for programs that work with your devices and feel manageable to you.

Go the hardware route: Hardware can let you monitor every device on the Wi-Fi network in your home. Like parental control software, many include paid subscriptions. They don't cover children's devices when they connect to other networks, like at a friend's house or out in public.

Determine your existing setup. Your internet router may already have built-in filtering services you might not have explored yet. Open the network icon on your main computer to see whether it has anything that looks like parental controls. Get more instructions on how to do this.

Check out the available products. Look for products that work with your network router. Circle Home Plus and Gryphon are popular with families. If you're buying a new router, search for one with advanced features and parental controls.

Select which devices you want to monitor. The big advantage of router filters is that you can choose specific devices. You may not want to monitor your own devices, unless there's a chance your child will use them.

Ask your internet service provider (ISP): Depending on your service, these settings can apply to TV channels as well as the internet. These programs may cost money. Check the website or call your ISP. See if your internet company offers parental controls, content filters, or other screen-time features. These can effectively limit exposure to pornography.

Monitor and Supervise:

Stay involved in your child's online activities by monitoring their browsing history and social media interactions. Encourage open communication about what they encounter online and address any concerning content together.

Know How Kids Can Bypass Restrictions and How to Restrict Them:

The technical bypass commonly used by children is Virtual Private Network (VPN). These solutions allow a child to create their own connection to the outside world, which in turn allows them to bypass any controls that might exist on the network. The most effective approach is to restrict your children's ability to install and uninstall applications on their mobile or notebook devices. This can be accomplished with the above discussed parental control apps and the mobile phones and tablets built-in settings.

However, keep in mind that small children or those who are not very internet-savvy often don't even know how to use a VPN.

Lead by Example:

Be a positive role model by demonstrating healthy internet habits and respectful online behavior. Show your children how to navigate the digital world responsibly and respectfully interact with others online.

Advice Other Parents:

Consider sharing your experiences and strategies with other parents. By opening up about your own journey in discussing pornography with your children and implementing restrictions, you can provide valuable insights and support to fellow parents facing similar challenges. This will also ensure that your children won't be able to access porn on their friends' devices.

By initiating open, honest conversations and implementing practical measures to restrict access to porn, you can empower your children to navigate the online world safely and responsibly.

[tunastime]

SEVEN!!! (plus three)

aaaaaaaaaaaaalright, lets see this time what we got...

alright shep this one works great LOL. I remember you sending a whole bunch, so this one ended up perfect :3 a very classic doc song if I do say so myself! (659 words)

Doc pulls his cheek between his teeth.

This would be a lot easier if he could use his other hand. But. Well. As his situation was currently playing out, his other hand was currently sprawled out on the desk in front of him. And his other hand was also, in an odd sort of way, two other hands, who belonged to Etho. Who was not him, but leaned over the workbench at the other side with the same pulled-tight-in-concentration expression as Doc did. Etho tilts his head. Doc can’t see the twist of his mouth, given the scarring across part of his face and the mask he has over his nose and mouth to help with particulates as they work, but he can tell from the rapidly forming crease between Etho’s eyebrows, alongside his own exasperated expression, that. Well.

“Not sure we can work around this next one,” Etho grumbles, wrinkling his nose. Doc sighs out through his teeth, letting his cheek go as he drags his tongue over the spot he’d worried. 

“Code-wise?” Doc asks. “Or is it completely mechanical?”

Etho hums.

“Well, last time we fixed it, we didn’t touch any code, so the way it was communicating touch and feeling was still the same. We just adjusted the hardware so it was better at picking up those signals. Since I remember last time, you were still having issues trying to feel for like… push-pins and pens and little rocks—”

Doc swats at Etho’s head from across the table. Etho barks out a laugh as he winces.

“Aow—kidding!” he wheezes. Doc grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever man,” he sighs. “Yeah, the signal strength still sucks balls. But you’re saying we can’t fix it, no?”

“Maybe,” Etho hums. “Just going to be hard.”

“Is it going to be hard? Or is it going to take a long time?”

Etho looks over at him, tilting his head not unlike a dog trying to understand common.

“I guess just a long time? It’s a lot to sort through, but it’s not very complex,” he says, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“Good,” Doc sighs. “We can deal with long, but I don’t think we can deal with tough.”

“You think?” Etho asks, but the way he says it gives Doc more than enough suggestion that he’s being sarcastic. Doc snorts, but doesn’t reply. Instead, he props one knee up on the stool he’s sitting on and uses the leverage to lean over the table. He plants a hand flat on the workbench to balance himself. This is his only arm, again, given that the other is affixed to the table with half its maintenance chambers open and a mess of wires where the metal, magnetic ports usually sit. It’s not like Doc has a gaping wound in his side, and the disabled connection port on his right shoulder isn’t tender or painful to the touch, but the weightlessness of the open port is a constant reminder of what’s sitting on the table in front of him.

To think he used to take it off every night. What a moron.

From this angle, he can see what Etho’s been working on a little better. He’s digging around in all of the maintenance files looking for the most recent update. It was always better to edit the most recent update, patch in whatever code they wanted to alter, and push their newer, self-generated update forward. That way if the technical support team got onto him, he could blame it on a faulty download.

It had worked a couple of times so far, so. 

Doc pulls his cheek between his teeth again, worrying absently. His eyes skip over a fresh section of code and he immediately feels his brain numb. 

Fuck, he sighs through his nose. “This is going to take forever.”

“No time like the present, Doc,” Etho hums, and flicks his wrist, sending a copy of his monitor’s display to the main view-board.

(send me a number between 1-100 and I'll write a little something based on the song!)

[kabr0ztrousers]

I love your writing and I also love your world building and lore!

How about a human farm on a remote planet and the fem reader is one of those cows? She has been physically altered (larger lactating breasts) but unlike the others she has kept her mental faculties.

It gets attacked by a smug group of aliens looking to wreak anything from the Chitnids. The leader and his men initially saw no value in these humans and thought it better to kill them. The reader convinces him that they are valuable and she will demonstrate it.

By giving the leader a lactating titjob.

It's very convincing.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 77: The Raid

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: combat; power imbalance; coercion through threat of violence; degradation; fellatio; titjob;

A/N: Another story, another alien race to create. The Roswell fellas are a little less warlike in my mind, more like the Asgardians from Stargate, so you get to see my not-Klingons instead

###################################

A thousand lightyears from Sol, on the other side of the Chitinid empire. A compound under the violet sky. This was your home. Things could be far worse, you had the run of an acre or two of land, along with a hundred or so other women. A lot of the livestock are kept in much worse conditions, by some quirk of fate the company that bought you adopts a "free range" policy.

That's not to say organic, however. The first thing they did after snatching you from your home planet was to inject you with mutagens. You doubt you'd recognise yourself now: the Chitinid drugs made you gain weight dramatically, all of it in your thighs, hips, and tits. Not to mention the aphrodisiac mixed into the food and water. Most of your fellow cows have already succumbed, minds liquefied by the constant haze of arousal. It was difficult to resist, joining the near-constant orgies taking place around the field would be all too easy. The draw to give up, to stop fighting and accept your fate...

An explosion thundered across the field. Alarms blared as guards hurried towards the breach in the fence. The flash of energy weapons. You hit the ground. Women panicked around you, stray bolts flashing overhead. Ozone and seared flesh filled the air. A beam caught a woman running past you. She fell, a smouldering patch burned into her shoulder, skin blistering as she howled in pain.

You ignored her. It's not like you're able to field dress a burn, and hopefully it's just a flesh wound anyway. You made for the breach. Who knows what you'd find there, but as you hauled your wobbling bulk towards the fight, you knew only that it had to be better than this.

The fighting started to die down, one side had won, though it didn't seem to be the Chitinids. Figures strode across the field, standing straight in their dull red armour. Whoever these people were, they weren't Chitinids. You watched as they stalked around the field, taking pot shots at the monitoring gear and the milking equipment suspended from gantries above. Sparks showered down as the alien hardware caught fire, gobbets of molten plastic dropping from the busted machines. The invaders ignored your fellow humans as they cowered them or cried over injuries. Not you. You hauled yourself onto all fours, then onto your feet, lumbering towards the column of smoke on the edge of the paddock. Picking over burned and twitching Chitinids, you reached the blown-out edge. The invader's ship was there, the same deep metallic red as their armour. The door was open. You stepped in.

The interior of the ship was hot, you felt sweat start to bead on your skin as soon as you walked in. You blinked in the gloom say what you want about the Chitinids, they like a bright room. This race rather didn't, the lighting was deep red like everything else, bathing the interior in shadow. You felt your way into the chamber, pressing a glowing button on an inner door. You winced as it scorched your hand, but the airlock began to cycle.

The inner door opened to a room even warmer than the airlock. Your eyes were adjusting to the dark, there was something in front of you. It was a rifle.

Your hands shot up. Your tits bounced with the sudden movement. The alien in front of you barked an order. You didn't understand the guttural language

"Human?" You kept your hands up, hoping they understood that you didn't. The rifle lowered. The alien's head cocked slightly. You could see it a little better now. It was feathered, this one was wearing a cloth uniform rather than armour, a beaked face regarding you with cold, predatory eyes.

"Hu-man. Enemy asset. Destroy." The rifle raised again

"The bugs?" Your hands waved in the air "They're my enemy too! Chitinids bad! Human friend!"

This seemed to calm the alien a little. Your hands dropped down. Still out, just not straight up.

"Prove"

Now it was your turn to look puzzled "What do you want?"

"Prove friend. Hu-mans pets for enemy. Be pet for Chak-Tak"

Chak-Tak? Is that their race, or just this one? "I'm not a pet. I'm a person."

The alien laughed "Not Chak-Tak. Not person. We drop you at starbase. For now, pet."

The alien opened his uniform at the waist, yanking down his waistband. A tapering appendage stuck out, several inches in length. You could tell what he wanted.

It was already oozing a sweet liquid. You licked it gently, tasting the thin fluid as it ran in rivulets along his length. You reached the tip, poising it between pursed lips. The sweet fluid seeped between your lips as your head bobbed on the alien cock. He was groaning as you sucked him off, probably a good sign. He lay down on the floor. You hefted your tits onto him, squeezing his cock between them as you continued sucking. Milk leaked from you as you rubbed him between your breasts, you felt it starting to cover your hands as it squirting out, landing on his uniform. He didn't seem to care, lost in the feelings of your mouth around his member.

You redoubled your efforts. He seemed to get louder when you focused on the tip, especially when you ran your tongue around it. You gently sucked out his juices, massaging the pointed end of his member, listening to his groans and growls get louder. He roared out, the fluid thickening all at once as it flowed faster. Your mouth filled in an instant. You choked down the thick, stringy cum. The sweet taste clung to your tongue, pump after pump oozing out in a ribbon of sugary slime, like trying to drink soda syrup. He held you to him, hands clasped behind your head, hips bucking against your tits, holding the tip of his cock in your mouth as it sprayed more and more.

It died down at last, you felt the flow stop just as the airlock behind you cycled. You turned, the attack force had returned, carrying their smoking weapons on their hips. A dozen rifles trained on you as the one covered in your spit and milk stood up, covering his crotch. A barked exchange. A guttural laugh from the armoured ones. Then a selection of alien cocks, all dripping with that same sweet fluid.

Looks like you're going to earn your passage

#####################################

I'll almost certainly use the avian Chak-Tak again, they're not as evil as the Chitinids, but they ain't nice.

I've been a little lax on soliciting requests recently! If you have anything you want to see, let me know! I'll try to make it happen

[factual-fantasy]

I am gonna send you a bunch of questions, instructions, and remarks regarding your tech issues. Please don't feel pressured to answer them.

Have you tried Updating your graphics Driver? (On WIN 10, Open search bar, Type Device Manager, then go to Display adapters, and right click your graphics card.

2. Does the problem happen anywhere or only in a specific location. (regarding the glitchy pink green grid) I mean Physical location. Like: "This only happens while I'm sitting at my desk"

3. In what way does FireAlpaca stop working. Does it crash, does it Hang(not respond to anything), Does it not respond to brush strokes on your tablet? Does the rest of your computer also stop working or slow down? Does your Mouse cursor do anything?

4. Does the Task Manager (or Equivalent, Idk your Operating system) note anything weird? (Hard drive at 100 all of the time, Memory at 100%, CPU at 100% for very long)

5. Combine 3 and 4. Have Task manager open while you're doing things in Alpaca and look at it if Alpaca starts being weird

6. From what I can tell, you have a Touch-Screen tablet that connects to your computer. (please correct me if I'm wrong) That matters because the tablet also uses your PC's OS, which means that your problems, if not hardware related, are usually your OS's or drawing program's fault.

7. If you can, Try using your drawing tablet for literally anything and everything else. Similarly, Try using Alpaca without your tablet. This way you can maybe figure out if Alpaca is being weird, or if it's the tablet.

I sat on this ask for a while in an attempt to fully test out/do all the things you mentioned. Here's my response:

1. Have you tried Updating your graphics Driver?

Yes I have! :0 I know I did this right because my super techy friend did it for me.😅 My Laptop drivers are for sure up to date.👍

2. Does the problem happen anywhere or only in a specific location. (regarding the glitchy pink green grid) I mean Physical location. Like: "This only happens while I'm sitting at my desk"

It doesn't matter where I am, the glitchy screen and the buggy FireAlpace happened anytime I tried to use them. Though I will note that after buying a new chord for my tablet, the pink and green glitches and weird black outs completely stopped. But FireAlpaca continues to bug out every few minutes. :(

3. In what way does FireAlpaca stop working. Does it crash, does it Hang(not respond to anything), Does it not respond to brush strokes on your tablet? Does the rest of your computer also stop working or slow down? Does your Mouse cursor do anything?

I am not great with my words so I took a video of FireAlpaca bugging out to show you. (I apologize for the low quality.. I shrunk it down so I could send it to a friend on Discord but now I cannot find the original video for the life of me😔)

In this gif I am selecting all these different tools, but they're all acting like the pen tool. Which was the tool I was using before it started to bug out. I forgot to clip it but the undo/redo button is also broken.

4. Does the Task Manager (or Equivalent, Idk your Operating system) note anything weird? (Hard drive at 100 all of the time, Memory at 100%, CPU at 100% for very long)

I have checked Task Manager when FireAlpaca was and was not bugging out. Everything seemed to act the same each time.. <:(

5. Combine 3 and 4. Have Task manager open while you're doing things in Alpaca and look at it if Alpaca starts being weird

Have tried this and I didn't notice any change when FireAlpaca started tweaking. :(

6. From what I can tell, you have a Touch-Screen tablet that connects to your computer. (please correct me if I'm wrong) That matters because the tablet also uses your PC's OS, which means that your problems, if not hardware related, are usually your OS's or drawing program's fault.

My drawing tablet is an XPPen Artist 13.3 Pro. Its not a touch screen but it has a drawing stylus. It's basically another monitor that I can use a stylus with. :0

I don't know if that means its using my laptops OS.. nor do I know how to fix it if my problem lies in that connection <:((

7. If you can, Try using your drawing tablet for literally anything and everything else. Similarly, Try using Alpaca without your tablet. This way you can maybe figure out if Alpaca is being weird, or if it's the tablet.

My tablet seems to work fine outside of FireAlpaca..? I think..?

But what I have tried is when FireAlpaca is bugging out I would move the window to my laptop monitor and try to use the paint tools with the mouse. The first few times I did this the problem fixed itself when I opened snipping tool to record it.

So I then set snipping tool to record my laptop screen, drew with my tablet until it bugged out again.. and then moved FireAlpaca to my laptop and kept drawing with a mouse. This is the result.

It broke the way it did before. Selecting multiple tools and either drawing nothing or only using the tool I was already using. The undo/redo buttons still do not work.

The only way to fix this problem is to save my canvas, close FireAlpaca and then reopen it. Sometimes clicking out of FireAlpaca and back into it fixes it..? But not always.

Anyways, I did my best to answer these as best I can. With my tablet drivers being up to date..(??) My laptop drivers being up to date and FireAlpaca being the latest version,, I'm not sure what could be causing my problems :((

[heevee-likes-soup]

Hongjoong x Reader |1K- 1 Trope|

>> 1K- 1 Trope series: A start of me to start publishing/ Get back into writing, 1 character, 1 Trope, 1 K words <<

>> Soulmate AU <<

>> Summary: "Can I get a coffee?" Must have been amongst the most boring words you could've wished for on your wrist. The first words your soulmate would say to you. <<

>> Rating: Fluffy/ SFW <<

You weren't too interested in your Soulmate, on most days. Today, wasn't such a day. You were out with friends yesterday evening, it wasn't anything too big. Just some drinks, some catching up. Nothing special. And then one of them started to rant about her new Boyfriend, and how she was so happy with him. Most people found their Soulmates in Highschool, or College. You, were a professional by now, with all that already over, working a boring life- well, working in music production was never boring. And your career was blooming. Going from simply boringly watching and working with the hardware, to now some of your own creations being sold to clients.

You never bothered to look for your soulmate. The words on your forearm weren't much of a hint. "Can I get a coffee?" were about the most boring words you could've ever asked for.

But back to your friend, as she was talking about her new boyfriend- that's when it happend. A guy walked by, no one payed much attention to him as he passed. But seemingly, neither did he. As he tripped over your bag placed next to the table, he inconveniently spilled his cocktail a little- on said friend.

"Not the Pineapple!" he exclaimed as the fruit pick slipped out of the drink before her. "Not the…" she slowly repeated.

That's how they met.

And that caused your current, mental exhaustion. She needed all the moral support she could get that evening, explain to her new boyfriend- well, now ex, what had happend.

Now, you were about as done with dating as it got. Your last partner was lackluster, not just in bed, just in generell. It didn't hurt ending things, and for two years, you didn't really bother in dating, for this exact reason. Soulmates made 'casual' relationships messy.

This morning wasn't difficult because of any hangover from the night before, you kept calm with the drinks. It was difficult because said emotional support ended up in a three-hour call.

"Oh you look dead." Your oh so sunny coworker smiled when he entered your studio. "I know." You simply sighed, dropping your head down onto your arm pillow. "I had two hours of sleep- I had to help a friend break up with her boyfriend since she ran into her soulmate. How does that just happen?" You let out a small whine with the last word, muffled by your hand. "Oh, Great for her." Yunho smiled. He squinted looking at you. "I'm… gonna get you some caffeine." he simply smiled and walked through he studio office.

"Actually, we have a short notice coming in later." Yunho announced as he returned with two cups of coffee, sitting one down on your desk, seating himself next to you on the chair. The desk set up simply holding a few monitors with two seats. "Since we had a really empty day Boss squished him in for a recording later. He said the guy is good- has his own beats and everything, kind of just in search for some second opinion and professional recording." You nodded, taking only half the information in as you sipped on the bitter coffee. It did revive you somehow.

After falling asleep twice in front of your screen, the third time the different colored beams of the music program in front of you started to mush together, you took it as a sign- getting up, opening up some windows, and walking into the small in-office kitchen.

There, to your dismay, you discovered the coffee can to be already empty. No wonder with the caffeine addiction raging within this team.

You cautiously opened the water container, filling it up by the sink. Washing the can itself through once, not really caring about any coffee remains. You placed everything carefully back together again. Lastly, you replaced the filter, and started scooping the pulverized coffee carefully in. One for each cup made… which would summ up to 6, two for each, yunho, you, and your shared boss. Then an extra spoon for caffeine and one fo-

"Can I get a coffee?" A smiley voice sounded behind you. With a shrug you added another two scoops. "If you like it strong, sure." you answered without much of thought.

You managed to actually put the second spoon in, before your brain caught up. The silence now seeming deafening. You slowly turned around- god, the guy was gorgeous. His features were sharp, yet… detailed. It reminded you of a neatly cut diamond, sharp and refined. His hair was pushed back, split into two colors, one side black, the other nearly white.

His dark eyes went wide, probably matching your own face right now. His clothes were also oddly your style- the jacket hung oversize, a matching turtleneck and simple fitting pants while he paired it with colorfully painted sneakers. "Hi" he then smiled and oh god- his smile was full, it stretched over his face and was endlessly bright. "Hi…" you could only answer, looking down at the words on your wrist slowly filling up.

Your own phrase now appearing underneath his words. A moment of silence passed.

"I'm Hongjoong" he then smiled. And oh god- you could just die the way he looked at you. His features may have been sharp, but his eyes seemed like they were shining. "Y/N" you only answered with a small smile.

The lack of sleep, and amount of caffeine made you feel light headed to begin with, but this whole thing- This man- No, Hongjoong in front of you, made you feel a whole different way of dizzy.

"Oh I see you two ran into each other yourselves." Yunho smiled walking into the small office kitchen, slowing down his step while looking back and forth. "What…" he tried to ask until he caught onto how you were holding your wrist. "Can I get a coffee?" Yunho repeated with a grin. "I really love coffee-" Hongjoong shrugged still smiling at you.

[liquidcrystalsky]

do you think there will ever be a day where a switch gets hacked like the 3ds

no probably not

(Warning beforehand i'm not an expert in this topic. This is just a bit of googling around to see how older exploits worked)

the 3ds is currently hackable through a thing where the file system crashes if a certain function tries to read a directory, but it gets a file instead. This works by messing around with Miis and empty user profiles or some shit idk, but it's system data which is stored on the SD card which can be manipulated and read in unintended ways.

The web browser on the wii u was just. kind of stupid they implemented a whole web browser, including one with javascript that can read and write to the system to the system! yay!

On the switch and switch 2, the SD card stores game save data and photos, thats it. there's also two system data things, but it only deals with what data is on the SD card itself, and you cant do anything with it really (i think)

Early 3ds and wii u hacks would require an exploit through a game, for example the Cubic Ninja thing as i mentioned, which had a level editor you could just dump whatever bullshit you wanted into which would crash it and make an entrypoint. This doesn't work on the switch, as each game is sandboxed, and so if you can run some bullshit code or crash it in a way thats exploitable, the system will stay completely unaffected.

The nintendo switch was only able to be hacked with a vulnerability in the hardware itself. thankfully this one has a fucking paper written about it so i dont have to guess how it works. Not fully understanding what's happening but i think in the usb recovery mode you can issue commands to the switch. If you request a status from the switch you can set it to request any length, which if you included some code you wanted to run in the request, it ends up being copied directly into the execution stack without any verification, and you can run WHATEVER code with full access to everything. which is really obvious if i explained it better, but it was a really severe and kinda stupid oversight.

The chip was given a revision to fix it, but the recovery mode stayed, and with the knowledge from blowing it wide open, modchips are able to monitor what the system is doing, and mess with the voltage to skip a security check, so an unapproved payload is able to be properly loaded.

Both the fusée gelée exploit and the modchip required a very intimate knowledge of how the chip worked, which required another vulnerable device using the chip to reverse engineer it. The chip used in the switch 2 is unique to the device and security has been locked down on it much more.

fusee has been fixed and the voltage fault is probably fixed too. I don't even know if there's a USB recovery mode with this. A hardware exploit could be virtually impossible, and software exploits may take years just for it to get patched immediately (we havent figured one out for the switch 1, even with all the knowledge of it!)

[luciacaminoz]

APOLOGY for the gaslight gamerbro himself perhaps? idk i would just love it if you had a reason to make julian grovel for his wife just a lil

Hearts/Wires (2.2k, nsfw)

February 2021

Here’s the thing about Julian Sim: when he wants to gut you, he uses a scalpel, not a cleaver.

The main area of the penthouse haven is all dark wood, black marble, muted LED underglow—reeking ego.

Three neon-lit servers hum like a hive mind stacked neatly in a small, panelled alcove; on top, a lacquered black terminal and various split-screen monitors. There’s an entire wall of vintage gaming consoles and rare, limited edition collector’s items, all bespoke shelving and shiny sleek casing.

A cyber koi dominates another wall on a matte black canvas, silver and teal metallic paint catching light, glowing circuit-board patterns along the scales and through its fins. There’s an Eames chair beneath that; dark grey, horrific little Licker plush perfectly centered, and a thin, bioluminescent algae tank splits the space, tints everything in cyan.

Portishead’s Glory Box is an audio autopsy; drags lazily from somewhere.

Sol leans against the back of a leather suite by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching her first snowfall skirl thick over the city. Elena’s in the HQ sublevel garage; Nadia’s still spying downtown.

Julian’s fingers fly over a tablet.

“Hey,” he says.

Sol just glances over her shoulder.

He swivels in his chair, grinning—that fuckboy grin. That one.

“Got something for you.”

“If it’s another USB drive of NFTs I swear to god, Julian, I’m out.”

“Nope.” He stands, all lean lines in his stupidly expensive techwear, and gestures to a black case on the marble-topped kitchen island. “Open it.”

She saunters over, pops the latches.

Inside: a leather jacket—deep shade of grey-brown, oversized, buttery-soft, lined with Kevlar. The back’s embroidered with two tiny hummingbirds in black and silver thread; the cuffs studded with citrine and gunmetal hardware. Sewn into the pocket: a rosary—each bead delicately carved obsidian.

“Customized the Kevlar weave,” he says, too casual. “Stops .50 cals, UV-resistant, self-healing nano-fibers. Also, y’know. Looks hot on you.”

Sol runs a thumb over the hummingbirds.

“You had this made?”

“Nadia sourced the leather. I did the code for the nano-fibers.” He steps closer, smelling of designer cologne and mint gum—he’d held another 2100X lecture at the University of Denver earlier this evening. “And the embroidery’s mine. Took a week. Fuckin’… needlework.” He mimes stabbing himself. “Torture.”

Sol keeps her expression carefully neutral.

“You should’ve stuck to hacking.”

“Probably.” His grin fades.

The jacket’s perfect. Infuriatingly perfect. So perfect she wants to cry or hurl him through the ten-storey window. Instead, she shucks off her old one, slides into the new. It molds to her—alive.

Sol can’t help the small smile. Her palms run along the smooth leather and she turns to him with a brow raised, exaggerated bedroom-eyes: Like what you see?

Julian’s gaze darkens. He closes the distance and smirks as he fixes her collar, tucking loose hair behind her ear, and it’s like every drop of squirming vitae in her system suddenly streams towards his touch.

She slaps his hand away.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that. The… soft shit.”

He catches her wrist.

“You’re mad. I get it, Sol. Be fucking mad.” They’re chest-to-chest, her back against the counter, so close his breath ghosts her scar. “But let me at least try while you’re mad.”

“Try?” She snorts. “Try what? Try to fix this? You get fucking and fighting and nothing else. You don’t know the first—”

Julian drops to his knees.

Sol shivers.

Hands on both sides of her hips, his mouth laves a hot, pleading stripe up the inner seam of her jeans. Sol grips the counter’s edge, knuckles white.

“Julian,” she hisses, but her thighs part anyway. Fuck him. Fuck his pretty little mouth, fuck his goddamn eyes—wide and wet like he’s the one being gutted. She shoves him back, but he catches her foot, pressing a kiss to the snake at her ankle. “Fuck. You.”

“You first,” he murmurs, tugging her jeans down.

She should knee him in the fucking face. She should. Instead his breath scalds through the fabric of her underwear and she whines like a kicked dog. He noses her clit, deliberately slow, savoring.

Sol’s head thuds back against the cabinet. She fists his hair—god, his hair, still so fucking soft, no one but her allowed to mess with the stupid fucking coiff—and grinds down.

“Hate you.” It sounds laughable on the tail end of a moan.

“Mmhmm.” Julian drags her panties with his teeth, then bites the fleshy inside of her thigh hard enough to leave a bruise. Two fingers slide into her, curling exactly right, and she hates how he remembers her body. “Tell me again, Sol.”

She doesn’t. She can’t, because his tongue replaces his fingers, lapping at her like she’s the last O-neg he’ll ever fucking see. The whimper chokes out of her throat, sharp, shallow, broken. Julian groans against her, vibration ratcheting her even higher.

“Solona,” he rasps, fucking her with his tongue now, deep and filthy. “Missed you. Missed how you taste—”

Her legs almost give out. Her claws unfurl, digging into the marble.

“Shut—fuck—shut up—”

He doesn’t. It’s Julian—he talks; words muffled but relentless against her clit.

“I remember when you used to beg me not to stop—”

“Julian—”

“Beg.”

“Go to hell—”

He pulls back, cold air hitting her soaked cunt. Sol nearly sobs. He looks up at her, lips glistening, pupils huge.

“Say it.”

She slaps him.

He blinks; when he meets her eyes he’s smiling again—shit-eating, I’m-untouchable—but his hands tremble.

She holds his gaze for two seconds before her heel slams his shoulder.

Julian crashes back into the algae tank, cyan light rippling violently over the room. In that moment he looks scary; his fangs drop with one slick schlick, eyes flat black fucking fury—

Then he laughs.

“You’re savage tonight.” He staggers up, licking vitae from the cut on his palm. He sounds as unhinged as she feels, spreading his arms like some shitty messiah. “Okay, Solona. Hurt me.”

She’s on him, fangs bared, slamming him against the server wall. Monitors clatter; the Licker plush tumbles to the floor. Julian’s cock strains against his pants, and the scent of his blood—wired monsoon nights, algorithmic zips of lightning; hers, her Sire’s, mine mine mine—drags a guttural moan from deep in her chest.

“Hate you,” she sobs, clawing his shirt open. “HATE.”

“I know. I know—”

It’s not a kiss she pulls him into. It’s teeth and tongue and ten years of fucked-up festering feelings. Sol shreds his belt with her claws. He lifts her onto the marble counter, ice-cold against her bare skin, and she resents how easy it brings her back—how his hands stay gentle, how his cock twitches against her stomach, leaking and desperate, how she wants to curl up and keep him inside her forever.

“Sol, look at me,” he whispers.

“No.”

“Please.”

“You left,” she snarls.

“I came back. I was always coming back.”

“To use me.”

“And you let me. Is that what you want to hear?”

She slaps him again, harder, tips of her claws splitting skin; two thin jagged slices across his cheek bone.

The crack echoes. Julian’s head snaps sideways, hair falling over his eyes. He touches the blood blooming beneath his eye and just sighs.

“Feel better?”

“No.”

He cups her jaw, pressing his forehead to hers and Sol exhales a shuddering breath between them.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Forget it. Just fuck me.” Her eyes are steepling with red. She’s using every gram of composure to keep them from running over.

Julian fucks her like he’s trying to carve an apology into her bones. Sol fucks him like she’s digging a grave.

Her heels cut into the small of his back. The counter’s edge bites into her ass. He slows, angling deeper, hitting that spot that makes her vision white. It’s a conscious effort to retract the claws, but she does, finally gripping his shoulders, grasping the nape of his neck, their foreheads still tight together.

“Look at me.” Begging. Begging. “Solona, please.”

Sol opens her eyes and stares into him the way she did when she thought he hung the stars.

Then, tears.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—” The words glitch out of him—staccato, inelegant, cracking. His thumbs swipe, smearing blood like warpaint.

He kisses her. It’s clumsy. It’s not enough. It’s everything. His lips tremble against hers, hands cradling her face like she’s made of cracked glass.

She kisses him back, nails digging crescents into the softness of his neck. Blood mingles metallic and salt-bitter between them. Julian’s hips stutter, buried to the hilt, chest hitching.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he repeats against her mouth.

She doesn’t answer. She wraps her legs tighter around him. Her hips roll slow now, aching, like she’s trying to fuse their skeletons.

Julian matches her pace, each thrust deep and punctuated—I’m. Here. I’m. Here.

His kiss trails along the thin ridge of her scar, her throat, her collarbone, every mole and freckle he finds there. When she comes, it’s silent—clenching around him, full-body shudder. Julian follows with a choked groan, forehead to her sternum, watching mingled vitae paint her thighs.

For a long moment, they stay like that, suspended—sticky, bleeding, Julian’s arms locked around her waist like she’ll ash if he lets go.

The algae tank continues to pulse, low and steady.

Sol shoves him.

He stumbles back, red scratches across his cheek almost closed over, Dior shirt hanging in tatters. She eases off the counter, legs shaky, and stalks to the bathroom. Julian follows, silent, hovering in the doorway as she splashes cold water on her face.

“Sol—”

“Don’t. Please.”

He doesn’t.

She strips, steps into the shower. Julian leans against the sink, watching through the glass as steam fogs the edges of her silhouette. When she’s done, he’s there with a towel—

Sol snatches it, wrapping herself tight.

Julian’s fingers brush her wrist.

“Let me fix your hair.”

“Fuck off.”

He retrieves a comb from the drawer anyway.

She gives him a look… but perches on the toilet lid.

Julian kneels behind her, carefully detangling the damp mass of waves. He used to do this—since the first weeks after her Embrace, when her hair would snarl from Sonoran winds whipping through the Geo and in the later 00s after messier Camarilla hit jobs. His fingers move in gentle, practiced patterns.

“We’re so fucked up,” she mutters.

“Maybe.”

“Lettow should’ve killed us both in Tucson.”

His mouth twitches.

They don’t speak after that. She leans into his touch despite herself.

Julian finishes her hair, silently debating a shower. Not wanting to leave her alone long, he burns vitae to blur through the motions, veins sparking with hunger, then dresses in a faded Evangelion t-shirt and black sweatpants.

Ridiculous, giddying relief slumps his shoulders when he walks back out into the living area and finds Sol slouched in the Eames chair, toeing the Licker plush on the floor, wearing one of his older hoodies—still raiding his wardrobe even here, even now.

Snow whirls behind her in the darkness outside, choking Denver’s skyline. Her eyes are closed, head drooped, limbs heavy, and he feels it too—the pressure droning behind his brow bone, blood beginning to stick and clump as arteries dry up to collapse. Dawn’s close.

Julian rakes his fingers through damp, painfully mussed and un-styled hair, and grabs the prayer mat tucked in a compartment beside the arch leading to the bedroom. It’s silk, deep olive green and embroidered—ayat al-Kursi in delicate gold calligraphy.

“Prayer time,” he says lightly, mostly to bridge the awkwardness stretching between them.

Sol looks up and frowns. He’s paler than usual, deep circles under his eyes, movements sluggish as he hits in a key code on the far wall and then lays out his mat.

“Skip it.”

Julian pauses.

“You know I can’t.”

She strains and stands, grabbing the Licker plush and what can only be an incredibly expensive throw blanket from the arm of the leather suite.

Julian watches, an almost imperceptible tightening in his jaw, as she follows him over, drops both to the floor beside him, and lies down.

“Fucking hypocrite.” She sighs, eyes closing. “You think Allah’s cool with diablerie?”

“He’s cool with me surviving sunrise.” Julian shrugs. “I’ll be quick.”

She watches him kneel, forehead pressed to the rug, earring glinting as he rocks forward, and thinks he looks beautiful like this.

The murmured Arabic is a familiar rhythm. She’s listened to it a thousand times as a fledgling in their trailer, but tonight it aches differently.

When he finishes, he doesn’t move.

“Julian?”

“I meant what I said in Santa Fe, Sol. Monterrey’s yours if you want it,” he says quietly. “I’ll follow you. No scripts. No strings.”

“No backseat Blood Sorcery?”

He finally flashes a smile at her, but she’s still lying on her back, eyes closed. He rolls up the mat with quick precision, even half-dead and mid-dying, and crawls over.

“None.”

“Liar.” Sol opens her arms.

He collapses into her, face buried in the crook of her neck.

“Missed this,” he mumbles.

“Missed you whining through Fajr.”

“Mean.” He flicks her nipple through the fabric.

Sol tugs his hair just enough to hurt. Julian purrs, fucking purrs, like some deranged cat.

Right before daysleep takes her:

“...Thank you. For the jacket.”

Julian smiles against her skin.

“Wait til you see what’s in the garage.”

[ prompt list ]

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

[bun-lapin]

Confessions

Summary: Idia confesses his love to you.

A/N: Third one shot finished! I was very sick with a summer cold while I wrote this so I hope everything makes sense. I also got very carried away with the banter and so I had to cut some dialogue to keep it to my desired work length. I hope someday I can share those deleted scenes with you all~!

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia, Floyd, Vil, Silver, Leona, Trey / AO3

Your steps hit the pale marble flooring with singular purpose. Their crisp echoes spin away from your feet, only to ricochet off of towering columns and scatter up towards a vaulted ceiling. The hallways of Ignihyde are empty and bright, lit up by informational monitors and the mysterious hum of technomancy. The air inside the dormitory is pleasantly cool and feels almost sterilized with its lack of scent. You stride past countless rooms, ignoring the few rare muffled conversations that seep out from under the occasional door.

You stop at a door identical to every other door you’ve passed so far. Reaching out, you briskly knock on the door and announce, “Idia! Open up! I’ve got an emergency!”

A few beats of silence tick by before you hear the sound of reluctant, shuffling feet moving towards you. The door slowly creaks open, just barely wide enough for a single, morose yellow eye and one half of a radiantly pale face to peer out at you.

Wordlessly, you hold up your smartphone for Idia to see. Its current state could be best described in just one word: annihilated.

Idia swings the door open completely and stares down at the remains of your phone in abject horror, sputtering, “What the-! How-? What were you trying to do?! Vaporize your phone or something?!”

Handing over your former communication device, you step into the room and tiredly reply, “Several crucial mistakes were made today. Can you fix it?”

Idia’s face breaks into a wide, smug grin. He closes the bedroom door with a prideful scoff and boasts, “Like that’s even a question. Can I fix it? That’s undeniable! Too EZ. I could fix something like this with both eyes closed and my hands behind my back!”

You make your way over towards a tall bookshelf on the far side of the room and grin back at him, “Well that’s good news for me then! I’ll be over here perusing your manga collection while you get to work.”

Idia sighs wearily as he sets himself down in front of a worktable covered in various tools and hardware. “So business as usual I guess,” he mutters gloomily but from the corner of your eye, you manage to catch sight of the smallest of smiles flashing across his face.

As Idia sets up the necessary materials and begins his assignment, you trace your finger down the length of the bookshelf, scanning titles and making future reading selections. An interestingly named one catches your eye and you carefully retrieve it from its place on the shelf. With today’s selection in hand, you amble over to Idia’s worktable, seat yourself in a comfortable chair next to his, and begin reading.

Several minutes of easy silence pass by, periodically punctuated by the ambient sounds of lightly clicking repair work and the soft turning of pages. The two of you continue your parallel activities in this way for a few more minutes before you suddenly hear a short, quiet laugh from Idia.

You glance up curiously from your reading and ask, “Something funny?”

Idia does not stop or look up from his task but he smiles softly. He admits in a slightly bemused voice, “I was just thinking that this feels nice. This familiar scene, with you reading next to me while I work on a project. I never thought I'd get so comfortable with you barging into my room whenever you wanted."

You raise your eyebrows playfully and ask in a gently teasing tone, “Oh? So does that mean you used to feel uncomfortable with my visits?”

Idia turns his head to face you with an exaggerated look of retroactive disbelief and exclaims, “Understatement of the century! I was definitely super uncomfortable with your interruptions in the beginning and I believe I distinctly remember telling you to never come back on several separate occasions.”

“Yeah but you let me back in every single time afterwards,” you quip back with a self-satisfied grin.

“Well, of course. You wanted to read my manga,” Idia states frankly as he turns back to his work. “I don’t lend out my books to people I don’t know super well. If I don’t know your reading style, then reading my books requires my direct supervision!”

“Well you know my reading style now,” you say gesturing broadly to the careful and considerate way you hold the book you are currently reading. “Do you trust me enough to lend me a book now?”

Idia seems to suddenly freeze at the sound of your last question. With a hand poised elegantly in the air, clutching a small tool, he would look every bit like a beautiful statue if it weren’t for the slight flickering movement of his soft blue hair. Turning with almost excruciating slowness, he takes the book from your hands in a gentle and deliberate action and grabs a nearby bookmark to place inside before finally closing and placing it face down on the table.

Idia turns his chair so that his body is completely facing you but his eyes are cast down and to the side, still on the book. A breath of silence passes between the two of you before he finally speaks in a carefully measured voice.

"I do trust you. I completely and utterly trust you. But I'll never lend you any of my books because I want you to keep reading them here next to me."

Idia turns his head and looks into your eyes. There’s still the ever present, tired hesitation weighing down his brows, but you see something else in his face, never seen before. In his bright yellow eyes shines a fiery determination, fueled by newly realized desire.

You gaze silently into Idia’s eyes, almost hypnotized. An eternity seems to pass by in seconds like this until Idia suddenly throws his pale, thin hands over his face. You blink rapidly in surprise at the abrupt end to the moment. With fingers pressed tightly against his face, Idia’s voice comes out muffled and anxious.

“I need to tell you something really important but it might be kinda cringe? And I don’t think I have the nerve to say it out loud with you looking at me so can you please close your eyes? And also can you promise not to laugh at anything I say?”

Even though Idia can’t see you with his hands completely covering his face, you smile softly at him and state in a reassuring voice, “I promise not to laugh and I’ll close my eyes.”

With your eyes closed tight, you listen to the faint rustling of his clothes as he hesitantly lowers his arms and you hear the slight creaking of his chair, as if he is leaning himself towards you. Suddenly, you feel an ambient warmth on the side of your face and realize Idia has moved in closer to whisper into your ear. A faint feeling like feather softness swipes over your cheek and you think it must be some of Idia’s hair, flickering luxuriously against your skin like incense smoke. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low murmur against your ear.

"When I leave my room, all the whispers I hear behind my back and the stares I see from the corner of my eye... It's like harsh noise and screeching static to me. It’s overwhelming,”

Idia’s voice drops even quieter and you can almost feel his soft breath on your face as he draws a little closer, "But when I'm with you everything goes quiet. When I'm with you I feel safe."

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is the sound of the two of you breathing. The soft sound of air falling up and down weaves over and onto itself almost like calming music. Then Idia lets out a shuddering sigh, the air from his lips brushing over your skin like cool silk, and the silence melts away under his low voice.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Thinking about you. When I open my eyes in the morning, I immediately think of you. When I close my eyes at night, it's your face I see. I think what this all must mean, what I’ve just now realized, is that I love you."

Your eyes fly open in surprise and you whip your head to the side to look at Idia, acting purely on instinct. His face is so close to yours, the tip of his nose almost brushes against yours. His eyes grow wide and bright from shock but he doesn’t pull away from you. Idia opens his mouth but all that comes out is a kind of strangled gasp. You read the question he can’t seem to ask, written all over his pale and unquiet face.

“Do you love me too?”

[autolenaphilia]

I got a Steam Deck last year, and it’s such a great machine. It’s obviously inspired by Nintendo Switch, but it’s a lot better than a Switch.

The most important part is that it runs PC games. It’s fundamentally a Linux gaming PC in the form of a handheld console. There are a lot more games available than any console and and PC games both on Steam and GOG are a lot cheaper than console ones. You can get old or indie games for as cheap as 1-3 euro during sales. It’s a tremendous advantage for the deck over its console competitors.

And while the obvious intent of the deck is to get more people to buy games from Steam, it isn’t a walled garden at all. The deck launches into Steam when you boot it up, but you can go into desktop mode, and then it functions as a normal PC running a Linux distro. From there you can install Lutris or Heroic Games Launcher, and use it to easily install games you bought from GOG and Itch.io.

You can also do things like use the official dock or an unofficial usb-c hub to hook the deck up to a monitor, mouse and keyboard to use it as a desktop PC. Or you can hook it up to a tv to use it as home console.

The hardware is also a lot more powerful than a switch, the demanding triple-a games it can play is actually impressive. Although this comes with the natural disadvantage that it’s bulkier too. Putting more powerful PC parts demands more space for them. The deck is not something I bring with me outside. But then again I didn’t even do that with the 3DS, which was actually of a practical size to do that. The deck is portable enough that I can comfortably play lying in bed, which is how I always used my handheld consoles. So it’s perfect for me, but maybe not if you want to play it on the bus or something. It can probably be a fun addition to your luggage on longer trips though.

Of course, as mentioned, the Steam Deck uses Linux. This has both advantages and disadvantages. The main advantage is that it allows Valve to customize the operating system to make it fit with the machine it’s running on. The Deck’s SteamOS feels really well-integrated into the hardware, like how a proper console OS should be like. It’s not that dissimilar to how Sony used FreeBSD to make Playstation’s OS. Windows would not allow for this amount of customization and would not integrate as well.

And the open source nature of most Linux development allows Valve and the user to use existing open-source Linux software to their advantage. For example, the desktop mode is largely not a Valve creation, it’s an existing desktop environment for Linux, KDE Plasma. Yet it extends what the user can do with the deck to a great extent, like for installing non-steam games.

The main disadvantage to the Deck using Linux is that most PC games are built for Windows and don’t run natively under Linux. To run games built for Windows, the Deck has to run it through Proton, a compatibility layer which is Valve’s own gaming-focused version of Wine. Wine/Proton is far from perfect, sometimes games require extensive tinkering to work, or only run with serious issues, or don’t run at all, no matter what you do. Sometimes a game not working with Wine due to some random but serious issue that comes naturally from running a Windows executable on a Linux system via a compatibility layer. Sometimes it’s due to things like a multiplayer’s game anti-cheat system requiring access to the Windows kernel, and it will block a Linux pc from running the game because it has no Windows kernel.

This is however not as big a problem as it might otherwise be. Most games work, more or less. Valve has put a lot of work and money into both their own Proton and the Wine project as a whole, and they work a lot better than they did 10 years ago. Many run perfectly out of the box, because they are native, or play nice with Proton. Some require mere minor tinkering, like using a different version of Proton. And I generally don’t play multiplayer games, or if I do they don’t have draconian anti-cheats, so the games that are blocked because of anti-cheat are no big loss to me. The Steam Deck not running Fortnite is a plus in my book.

And we shouldn’t forget the Steam Deck verified system. Basically Valve employees check if the game runs out of the box with no issues on the Deck. They get a verified rating if they work with no issue, including both proton compatibility but also things like the controls working nice and the text being legible on the deck’s small screen. They also get a “playable” rating if the game runs to an acceptable standard but with tinkering required or other minor issues.

This is a good system. If you dislike tinkering, you can just buy and play games on steam with a verified rating, and the deck will work like a normal console for you, but with a lot cheaper games. It’s a good way to get people used to consoles into PC gaming, which is probably the point of the Deck.

And if you want more than deck verified games from Steam on the Deck, you are given the freedom to do it. I’ve gotten officially non-supported steam games to run on the deck by installing and using proton-GE and I’ve installed and played games from GOG.

The Steam Deck is really how a Linux PC for the common people should work. An easy and slick experience for casual users, but freedom and customization given to those that want it.

[genesissaturna]

To open her up and to see her hardware. To have my fingers tangled in her wires and to feel the warmth coming from her casing while her fans whir and breathe. To start up the monitor only to ignore it in favor of the tower. To maintain her and keep her well because she relies on me to do so. To dust her off with canned air, give her a gentle pat and say "there, all fixed up" before giving her a well deserved shut down for a while. Computer girls. You agree.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 98)

N was first, climbing down into a small hole in the ceiling, using night vision to make sure the room was safe.

There was flesh piled in the corner, crawling up the wall to reach nearly the ceiling, black tendrils lie dormant all across the floor like living tripwires. One wrong touch and…

Uzi's head poked from the ceiling.

“Can I come down or what?”

N scanned the rest of the room, the control room screens were still online by some miracle, though several of them were busted and several more were tangled in a web of eldritch goo however, let's hope that wouldn't be an issue.

“H-hang on, if you touch the floor we'll trigger a reaction.” He flew up to come face to face with her, “Let me carry you.”

She reached out for him, landing into his hold as her tail lit up the room in a purple glow, taking in the room.

“Damn. This place will be gone in a couple days. We better get out of here fast.” She pointed out, eyelights training on the faintly glowing console. “Bring me over yeah?”

He nodded, hovering over to where she could leap onto the control panel without touching the floor.

[SYSTEM LOCKDOWN : ENTER PASSKEY]

Read the slightly cracked, incredibly dusty monitor and Uzi sighed, mumbling under her breath. “Yeah of course it's on lockdown…”

She pressed a few buttons, getting an error noise on each touch- the entire control panel was completely unresponsive.

“I'm going to have to plug in. Make sure my body doesn't fall.” She turned back to her boyfriend, who ceased his paranoid looking around to meet her eyes; worry creased his frame.

“Uzi this computer has been out here for ages… who knows what sort of virus it has. Plus…” He gestured to the black, slimy tendrils snaking up some of the monitors. “Who knows what this stuff does to computers.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“But the keyboards locked up, and we need the data off this old thing. What other choice do we have?”

“I-I could-”

“No.” Uzi interupted him. “If these things trigger you're the only one that can burn it away. We'd both be sitting ducks.”

He sighed heavily, the knowledge that she was right didn't help his nerves any, his core yanked painfully in protest.

No it's dangerous.

She could get hurt, the kit could be hurt.

Don’t let her go.

“Hey. I got this. You trust me?” She asked, cocking her head with a confident smirk, God, how long had it been since he'd seen that? It's been so much exhaustion and doubt lately…

“Of course I do.” He replies, hovering close just to give her a quick kiss on the lips before parting. “Just be careful, okay?”

She nods. “Duh.” And she reaches for the port above her core, forcing the hatch open, “Ow! Agh… that's not meant to come open without prep I guess.” She hissed under her breath, and fished around in her pocket for a linking cable. “There you are.”

She plugged one end into herself before hunting for an interface port on the console, taking a moment to find it.

She does, it's next to a big red button that was currently pulsing red- she made a mental note to avoid touching it.

“Wish me luck.” Was the last thing she said before she plugged herself into the control panel, body locking up as code crashed into her firewall. Her body winced. She barely felt N keep her steady as she was hit with a flood of errors.

Plugged into another drone, the experience was euphoric, you were connected to another conscious, a soul. But this computer wasn't sentient; and what little AI it possessed was broken beyond the point of functioning. So all the sensation she felt was just her own- and the faint screaming of a dying AI.

ERROR- MEMORY FAILING

ERROR- DATA BACKUP FAILED

ERROR- HARDWARE FAILURE

“Yeah, no shit.” She mumbled, feeling her mouth move as she refocused. Okay, the information had to be in here somewhere…

She began to push through the ocean of errored code, feeling the system push back hard against her firewall. N was right, this thing probably had a thousand viruses it was itching to share with her, let's just hope her firewall held up.

She felt her consciousness leave the confines of her physical body, leaving it behind as she searched through poorly organized files; some were completely corrupted, others were fine, just not useful.

Time lost meaning, the system of the console was incredibly vast, and it quickly became clear she was searching for a needle in a haystack, a dot of purple among a sea of white.

She began to worry, perhaps the information they were looking for had already been corrupted?

That is, until she ran into an encrypted wall of cascading code, denser then the scattering of loose data she'd been able to access thus far.

She pushed against it, purple meeting default white, as strings of encryption appeared on her visor, N watching over her diligently.

[ENTER PASSKEY]

She sighed- or whatever passed for an entirely digital equivalent, beginning to work through the encryption with her own hardware, the solver aiding in her speed.

1s and 0s turned to scrambled letters and white space made to make any unwanted guest have trouble finding the passkey, but a mixture of determination and robotic advantage let Uzi make quick work of it.

P-A-S-S-W

“Oh for- the password is password, I could've just guessed it!” Her body suddenly shouted, startling N and then making him laugh. “Pfft-haha!”

Refocusing, she was able to push her code through the systems firewall, it wasn't entirely painless but she got through.

There was only a single file.

Transmission- Classified [TITANUM-28]

The file was an audio recording, with a set of coordinates attached. She played it, beginning a download into her own system.

“This is Doctor Rosemont, Transmitting from Lab 18. Something… happened.” There was screaming in the background- and a colossal roar.

“The genetic experiments have been a success, modifications to our old C.R.I.S.P.R technology has allowed us a greater range of genetic wiggle room…” There's a crash, and the sound of rapid- panicked gunfire.

“U-Unfortunatly, Subject 5 has uh… escaped.”

There's the sound of shattering glass, and low, feral growling. “If you receive this message, know that Titanium-28 is compromised! I repeat! Titanium-28 is-” The transmission ends with a blood curdling scream and a roar.

The coordinates to the planet are attached labeled very clearly with [QUARANTINED]

A single image is also attached, a satellite view of a planet covered in red and green trees and a canopy so thick you couldn't even see through it from orbit, like images she'd seen of earth, a good portion of the planet was covered in water.

She felt N start to shake her, his voice muffled from the distance her code was from her body.

“UZI! WE GOTTA MOVE!”

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