#RAM-only systems

[infoanalysishub]

Can We Store Data Without Storage Devices?

Can We Store Data Without Storage Devices? Learn about RAM-only systems, DNA data, quantum memory, and more cutting-edge innovations redefining how we store data. Can We Store Data Without Storage Devices? Introduction In the modern digital world, data is the backbone of almost everything—be it communication, business operations, or scientific advancements. Traditionally, this data is stored…

[luci-z-wont-shut-up]

I'd like yalls help w something, please

Regardless of its intelligence level, how many non-human creatures have Arthur and John had an emotionally positive experience with?bc I am wracking my brain and the only ones I can come up with are the lamp-eft, the buopoth, the cana, and the owl (I have yet to figure out if cana is a species or a job title but yall know who I'm talking about)

If anyone can fact-check/correct/update me on this I'd appreciate it so much 🙏

[merrill-mcmerlin]

I had a Bottom-Mobei-Agenda epiphany!

I don’t have the exact quote to their canon first time on hand because it was only in an interview and not in the text.

But from what I got from Osmosis:

SQH ends up injured/bleeding

Mobei ends up punched across the room

SQH insults Mobei’s sex skills

It happens because Mobei is big and doesn’t know what lube is

You don’t need Mobei to top to get there. As stated before, our boy is tall, heavy, impatient and has possibly never heard of lube, and sex is the leading cause for penile trauma is sex.

It’s absolutely possible that he would just flipped SQH onto his back if the foreplay takes to long. It’s absolutely possible that he would just try to sit on that dick without any preparation. It’s a fact that he has the strength to crush a mans dick.

Another great point about this interpretation is that you for one can give SQH a black eye because he got an ice pillar to the face.

Also Mobei going horny insane over being punched across the room and has his hands slapped away because he keeps trying to fondle SQH. He’s also deeply offended that he’s not ever allowed to kiss it better.

If you insist on blood, Mobei has claws in most peoples heads and there are other penis injuries than penile trauma, like a torn foreskin frenulum.

The possibilities a vast and glorious!

[abysshydra]

Another NPD holder with royal theme? It's more likely that you think

[haruka89]

^^^^^^^^

You know what, fuck it, I don't *want* some frivolous, artisanal, lighter-than-air computer with no customizability, no upgradeability, no reparability, no ports, and a lifetime of *maybe* 3 years if you're lucky. I want a fucking great BEAST of a computer that's designed to last a minimum of 50 years, with ports up the wazoo and optional drives for every kind of media! I want modular components that you can drop in a bog for a year, dry them off, and have them still work fine! I want them to make a noise like "ker-chunk!" when you slide them into place! I want a switch that you pull to turn it on! And I don't want software that constantly forces you to get a pointless, cosmetic "upgrade" every few months either! I want durability! I want longevity! I want satisfying haptics! I want Silicon Valley to go fuck itself!

[uinferno]

The dichotomy of how I treat my Desktop vs Laptop is truly the encapsulation of the favorite vs unfavorite.

If they were human children, the left would be my desktop and the right my laptop. I turn my desktop off every night and only give it a dozen tabs to run and I close them when I'm done.

Meanwhile, I made my laptop train a neural network for 100 hours straight in a random corner of my house.

There's a reason why I haven't used my laptop in a while.

[chanifesto]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 smart girl | go hyuntak

pairing: hyuntak x afab!reader (weak hero class 2)

synopsis: a university au in which hyuntak, determined and mighty and ready for anything, turns to mush in your presence. that is, until he has you turning into mush under him.

genre: somewhat of a smutty slowburn

word count: 8.1k

warnings: [MDNI!] explicit sexual content, softdom!hyuntak, making out, grinding, pet names (baby, pretty girl, smart girl) nipple play, oral (f rec.), fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it! please!), mentions of STI testing and birth control,  just enough consent checks, absolute devotion, your insides are soft, his outsides are hard, gosh he’s such a simp for you, i have never written smut before proceed with caution

reader notes: written with afab!reader in mind. reader has breasts, a vagina, and hair long enough to fall over their shoulder. all characters are consenting and over 18 yo.

۶ৎ 𝑙𝑒𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒 ࿐ i am feverishly starved for this man. it’s only right i dedicate my first post to him. enjoy (at least, i hope you do).

Hyuntak thought his heart was about to ram out of his chest.

  He was perfectly serene ten minutes ago, when it was just him, Hu-min, Jun-tae, and Si-eun at a booth in the university cafeteria. Perfectly serene basking in hoarse laughter at Hu-min’s flimsy puns. Perfectly serene, before you padded towards their table alongside Hu-min’s girlfriend, a textbook caged against your chest, the slightest quirk of a smile clutching at the corners of your pretty lips in response to something Hu-min’s girlfriend had whispered to you.

  You slid into the bench opposite of him at the other end of the table, quietly greeting the other boys as you slipped your tote off your shoulder. If Hyuntak hadn’t been ambushed by his own nervous system, he would have seen the kind eyes you offered him instead of finding a sudden interest in the nutrition facts of his energy drink.

  He was perfectly serene ten minutes ago, before you got there.

  And now you sat there, gently scribbling in your agenda, your plush bottom lip softly caught between your teeth, unaware of the fevered anguish you had inflicted upon him.

  Hyuntak, who was previously doubled over in laughter, was now pressed against the back of his chair, sweaty palms rubbing ever-so-slightly against the soft fabric of his sweatpants. Heat had begun to ghost down the sides of his face to his neck. The last time he was this strung out was for his first basketball tournament, and that was seven years ago. Gosh, the things your presence did to him.

  Hyuntak curtly flips over his wrist to check the time on his watch, just as he did thirty seconds ago, and thirty seconds before that. 

  His chest expands in a quiet huff. He had fifteen minutes before he had to leave for his class, more like twenty since the first ten minutes of the hour are allotted for students to relocate between possible back-to-back classes. Hyuntak always believed he could get to his classes in five—a belief he always proved wrong.

  It was the start of a new semester, so it only made sense to depart earlier than he usually would to locate his lecture hall in time for class. This logic was foreign to him, he was never concerned about getting to class on time, just as long as he showed up.

  But he had to get away from you.

  Had to get away from this feeling you were giving him, the feeling you gave him whenever you came around.

  Hyuntak only ever saw you with Hu-min’s girlfriend—your best friend—and that, too, was usually just on campus. You would show up to their group together, and then you would flip open a textbook or write in your agenda or type notes onto your laptop. It seemed like it didn’t matter where you were, you were always studying, always ready to put that pretty brain of yours to work.

  And that’s how it typically was. Hyuntak had never exchanged more than a few words with you because you were always studying, but he was slowly charmed by you. 

  He adored the scrunch of your eyebrows when you were stuck on a practice question, adored the tip of your tongue sticking through your pouting lips whenever you were writing something, adored the way your hair would fall over your shoulder whenever you leaned into your textbooks.

  He adored you, but he loathed the feeling you gave him.

  The tight chest, the heartbeat on a rampage, it was all so foreign to him. Hyuntak, who was usually so poised, so vigorous, and sometimes a little arrogant, was absolute mush in the palm of your hand.

  And you didn’t even know it.

  Hyuntak slid his chair back with a crisp screech, pushing himself up into a stiff stance while catching the looks of the acquaintances around him.

  “What’s wrong, Gotak? Where are you going?” Hu-min questioned, a reminiscent grin charming his features from what must be the aftermath of a joke Hyuntak was too zoned out to hear, his arm slung over the shoulders of his girlfriend and head hung back to look at Hyuntak’s face.

  “I have class.”

  It’s an abrupt response accompanied by Hyuntak’s darting eyes at Hu-min before he swiftly leans down and collects the strap of his backpack in a tight grasp.

  Hu-min reaches for his phone on the table, tapping the screen. “But you don’t have class for another…”

  “Fourteen minutes, I know,” Hyuntak brisky replies, straightening up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. His eyes remain downcast as he shuffles with rapid feet to the side of the table, his hand rushing to grab the back of his chair to push it in.

  “So why-”

  “I need to find the lecture hall,” Hyuntak spurts out, his eyes bulging at Hu-min against his own will. Hu-min’s eyebrow quirks into a raise, his eyes holding Hyuntak’s in a quiet stare.

  “Where is it?”

  This is not a voice Hyuntak was expecting to hear. This was the last voice Hyuntak needed to hear.

  Hyuntak’s billowing eyes find themselves striking at your figure standing at the other end of the table, your tote hung over your shoulder and textbook gripped within the embrace of your arms once again. When did you even get up? Did you always move so quietly?

  “Huh?” The dumb-witted sound clambers out of his throat. Did Hyuntak imagine that? He doesn’t think so, but he hopes so.

  “Uh, where is it?” Your voice is quieter when you repeat yourself, almost hesitant, “I was going to look for my lecture hall now, too. I thought, if yours is in the same building, we could walk there together.”

  Hyuntak stares at you blankly, eyes still bulging.

  Did Hyuntak imagine that?

  He had to have. There’s no way you’d pay him any mind, no way you’d want a guy like him around you, walking you to class, beside you and breathing the same air as he walked you to said class. What if your hands brushed on accident? You probably wouldn’t want that, you probably think he has sweaty hands, all calloused from the rough rubber of basketballs and the many years of taekwondo. You probably think his fingers are grimy and his hair is greasy and his teeth are yellow and his breath smells bad and his–

  “Or– we don’t have to.”

  Your voice is nimble, but it’s enough to stir Hyuntak out of his head. His eyes blink at the sudden impact of mental whiplash.

  “We’re probably in different buildings anyway–”

  “North building.”

  Hyuntak’s breath had entered his lungs but had not returned back out of him. He stood still watching you, waiting for your response, and if you weren’t fast enough, Hyuntak thought he might faint from lack of oxygen.

  You gaze at him, and then your plump lips tug into a small smile.

  “Me too.”

  Hyuntak’s fists were moistened with perspiration, and the cool winter air made no difference to the toasting skin of his face. It definitely didn’t help that you were trotting beside him, your textbook cuddled in your cute arms, your soft hair wisping with each breath of wind.

  Hyuntak was determined to stare at anything but you. The trees lining the brick path, the students walking in all sorts of directions, the static dead leaves caught in the corner of a building. What a coincidence that all these things happened to be on the opposite side of him, the side that had no indication of your being.

  Your acknowledgement of this was unfortunate for Hyuntak, whether you realized it or not, so when he heard the sound of your mellow voice prick his ears, he couldn’t help the way his shoulders jumped and head snapped.

  “Do you not like me?”

  You said it with a chuckle, eyes kind but curious, squinting at him, assessing what his body was subconsciously trying to tell you.

  His shoulders had dropped but remained strained closer to his midline. His lips had pursed into a clueless pout, eyebrows drawn and stiff, conjuring a faint patch of creases between them. His wide eyes, however, glinted, in awe or fear you did not know. But, they glinted.

  And then, Hyuntak eased. Like water, his body flowed into his more natural posture. His fingers flexed in his sweatpant pockets and his eyebrows anchored down. His eyes, faintly glossed, blinked into a squint.

  He was an idiot.

  “No, I do like you– I mean, I don’t not like you, you’re cool. I just, yeah, I think you’re cool,” he blurts, “Why do you ask?”

  His face is blank as he eyes you. Your lips spread out marginally in amusement.

  “You’re always laughing around with Hu-min and the others before I show up. Then you get all quiet and distant,” you explained, “It gives me the feeling that you don’t want me around. I thought you just didn’t like me.”

  Oh, he was such an idiot.

  “I don’t like you?– No, what, why would you think that? That’s absurd.” Hyuntak almost doesn’t feel himself scowling. You watch him, amusement still soaking through your face. “You’re always studying, I’ve barely spoken to you. I barely even know you.”

  You gaze with a giggle.

  His scowl tightens. “Just– can you– gosh,” he huffs, “What room is your lecture in?”

  “One fifty.”

  Hyuntak’s scowl simmers. His eyebrows knit together.

  “That’s where my lecture is.”

  “Linear algebra?” You question.

  His features question you in return. “Yeah.”

  “Oh, we must be in the same class then.”

  Hyuntak feels sweat begin to coat the insides of his fists again. He never expected to see you in any of his classes. He had never seen you in any of them before. And linear algebra? What could you possibly need linear algebra for? You obviously weren’t in his program, so what’s with this?

  “Do you need to take it for your program?” 

  You shake your head. “It’s my elective.”

  Of course, you, with your angel face and luscious hair and pretty, big brain, were taking linear algebra as your elective.

  “Right, okay,” Hyuntak huffs.

  Of course you were.

  It had become routine for you and Hyuntak to walk to your shared class together. Hyuntak, who was always five minutes late rather than early, found himself showing up to the lecture hall and waiting for the previous class to finish. And you? You were always right there, right by his side.

  As the semester progressed, so did your friendship with Hyuntak. It started with faint encounters—he would ask you simple questions about lecture material during lecture breaks. Soon, the two of you had started doing the assigned practice problems together in the campus library. At first, it was just after class. Then, Hyuntak decided he needed more of your help.

  Or perhaps, he just needed more of your time.

  Hyuntak was quite competent in mathematics. As quick as you were with solving problems, Hyuntak offered himself as fair competition. He definitely benefited from the wisdom you could bestow upon him, but he most definitely did not leech off of it. No, Hyuntak was quite competent. He just needed more you.

  Hyuntak’s nervous system gradually surrendered to him. He found, the more time he spent with you going over questions, he no longer felt a winding in his chest, no longer felt his breath retreat from its post. His hands remained as dry as the Sahara, and he wouldn’t want them any other way.

  Eventually, Hyuntak found himself asking you to cafes—wouldn’t it be nice to study with a warm drink? 

  You had obliged with no hesitation, leaving Hyuntak with a pleasant feeling fogging through his chest and vessels and bones.

  He took you to cafes littered across the city, all around the campus exterior. A French cafe, an Italian cafe, he’d even taken you to a cat cafe, one where you were both guaranteed to get the least amount of work done, falling victim to tufts of fur and fluff.

  When he learned of your love for reading, Hyuntak took you to a book cafe and watched, no, admired as you browsed through the shelves, grazing the spines of different books with your pretty fingers, eyes wide and marveling.

  The only mistake Hyuntak had made was taking you to a cafe that specialized in your favourite drink. He almost didn’t fathom the anguish that smacked him when you moaned in pleasure from your first sip.

  “Mmm.”

  He couldn’t move a nanometer. He couldn’t swallow the sip he had taken from his own drink. He could only listen to you, hear your ethereal sound reverberate within the walls of his head.

  “God, this is so good. Where did you find this place?”

  Hyuntak gapes at your plush lips, the gate to all the pretty sounds that could be elicited from the deepest parts of you. He can’t help but let his own lips tingle at the ghost of what yours might feel like against them, what they’d look like wrapped around his tip–

  “Hyuntak?”

  He thinks he can feel the hot blood that was rushing to his cock freeze in his vessels.

  He swallows. “Huh?”

  “I said, it tastes so good, where do you keep finding these places?”

  Your eyes look so innocent peering at him, so oblivious to the dirty picture Hyuntak had painted of you, of your lips, your sound…

  “Oh. I just, I guess I know my way around the city,” he muses, “I like to try new things, new places out.”

  “Well, keep trying out new places,” you say. Then, you take another sip, “Mmm, it’s so good, Hyuntak.”

  Yeah, taking you here was definitely a mistake.

  The semester was nearing an end, and so came the final round of assignments.

  A wave of tension had ambushed the entire collegiate crowd. The library was full to the brim with students cramping over assignment materials and lecture content, the hallways of each building were full of chatter either discussing chapter solutions or champagne problems. No one had missed being swallowed by this sea of stress.

  You and Hyuntak had succumbed to it fully.

  “This question makes no sense,” Hyuntak muttered, slowly swaying himself in a chair in the empty classroom you’d both colonized, staring at the assignment question that lit up his laptop screen, chewing down on his lip and winding a pencil through his long fingers.

  You stood before him facing the black board, chalk painting your fingers as you scrutinized the scribbles you had flowered the board with, trying to make sense of the question at hand.

  “There was something similar to this in chapter thirteen, but it’s not quite the same...” you murmured.

  Hyuntak forces out a heavy huff. You shuffle to face him.

  “We can stop now, we’ve put in a good amount of work, and we’re making progress,” you suggested, watching his form swaying, basking atop the chair like he owned the entirety of the university.

  He was clad in a tight black t-shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder at his biceps, swoll from crossing his arms. His legs were spread, concealed in black sweats to match. His hair, tousled over his eyes from his veiny hand raking through his strands each time he felt a slap of tension gifted from the assignment question. And his eyes, god his devil eyes, they drank your figure in like red wine.

  He sighed, still eying you. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s stop here.”

  You nodded and turned to collect your things.

  There was a pause, and then, “Would you…”

  Your head swiveled to face Hyuntak again, your hand reaching into your tote with your pencil case. “Mhm?”

  Hyuntak had stopped swaying, his feet planted against the floor. His biceps, still crossed against his chest, swelled at you. His bottom lip rolled between his teeth.

  “Would you wanna come over to mine on Saturday?” His voice is timid, but it doesn’t waver, “We can finish working on the assignment. And, I can make us ramen.”

  Hyuntak blurted the last comment in hopes of further persuading you into his humble abode. Luckily for him, it seemed to have worked, and he almost clutched his chest as his heart fluttered to the ring of your giggle.

  “Sure, I’ll see you Saturday,” you smile, “Promise you’ll make it good?”

  Hyuntak grins and sticks out his pinky.

  Saturday had circled around, and Hyuntak was circling around his coffee table, kneeling to, once again, fix the vanilla-scented candle—the one he had bought and lit just for you—before moving it back to its original place, when you knocked at his door.

  Hyuntak heaved himself up off his carpeted floor. His heart was steady, his lungs didn’t betray him, and his nose was happily lazing in the scent of warm ramen and vanilla, but he still found himself wiping his hands across the front of his sweatpants as he walked over to the door, his hands scrunching at the soft material before reaching for the knob.

  He pulled it open, revealing you on the other side, and he swears he feels his heart stop for a millisecond.

  You looked the way you always did, if anything, you were just a little more undone. Bare faced, your delicate hair combed back in a clip. You had worn a flimsy black t-shirt—gosh, no bra?—that fit snug along your torso, and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on your hips. Your tote was slung over your shoulder, and your linear algebra textbook was pressed between your forearms and trunk.

  You hoisted your textbook snug against your chest once you took in Hyuntak, his welcoming frame swallowed in one of his favourite blue hoodies.

  It takes a second for Hyuntak to find his words before he’s welcoming you into his apartment.

  “Hey, come in,” he started, “did you find the place okay?”

  You scrambled through the door, giving him a smile. “Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.”

  He’s closing the door behind you when you shimmy your feet out of your shoes. “That’s good–”

  “I think I figured it out!” You declared, traipsing over to his coffee table in a hurried skip.

  He watched you take out your supplies, organizing them across the surface of his coffee table, adoring your grace and need for order.

  He feels warm, his lips spread in a closed smile, and he thinks the ramen will just have to wait until you’ve had a chance to giddily fill him in on all your ideas.

  He carries himself over to the couch and plops down. You sat with your back turned to him, kneeling in front of the coffee table, laying out the notes you had written up since your last study session.

  You’re too far for him to hear all the solutions your incredible brain had come up with, so Hyuntak pats the spot next to him. You turn your head.

  “Get up here, let me hear your theories.”

  Your eyes gaze into his before traveling down to his hand on the couch. You nod.

  Collecting your things and joining him on the couch, you start handing him your notes, reciting the details of the solution you had been working towards. He nods along, listening to you ramble about how chapter thirteen had been conjoined to some topics in chapter fifteen, or at least that’s what he’s able to make out of it.

  Hyuntak can’t concentrate with your thigh brushing against his every time you move around to grab another sheet or book or pencil. He’s holding your notebook, reading your writing and little scribbles, but nothing's getting through to him. He can hear your voice—your angel voice—but he’s not comprehending the jumble of letters you're spitting out.

  He can hear your voice, and god he wants to comprehend you so bad, but his mind is racing, running away from his conscious morality, and taking him to a tavern that offers nothing but hot, liquid lust.

  Hyuntak feels searing blood surging through his body, feels it pool into the rod between his legs. His face is starting to heat up, and he’s afraid of leaving moist fingerprints on your pretty notes. His breath is starting to gallop, his chest raising just a bit higher and falling just a tad deeper. Hyuntak, who had grown to be so cool and calm around you, was now hot and desperate, and instead needed you around him.

  Your thigh feels so supple against his, feels so grippable. Hyuntak can’t help but wonder what both of them would feel like pressing into the sides of his face–

  “Hyuntak, are you listening?”

  You’re looking at him, your eyes kind, pitifully unaware of how Hyuntak had you spread out in his head.

  “Huh?” Hyuntak doesn’t think he can conjure any other sound, let alone move any muscle in his body. Your notebook rests in his lap, balancing against the wrath of a hardening cock you were faultlessly oblivious to.

  Your lips tug into a mellow frown. “I was telling you how we approached the matrix incorrectly in the beginning. Hold on, maybe I should just show you the textbook chapter I’m referring to.”

  You turn towards the coffee table and reach over for the textbook, bending just enough for the dainty lace of your white panties to peak over the band of your sweatpants.

  Hyuntak thinks he might cry.

  “Y/N…” It comes out as a soft mumble, just audible enough to get your attention, wisping out of his mouth and traveling through the now viscous, honey-like air.

  You swivel towards him, the textbook sitting in your lap. The lace of your panties shy back into hiding.

  “Mhm?”

  You’re gazing at him with those godforsaken prudent angel eyes. His feel so heavy, so full of heat and desire, and he’s staring at you with them, begging you to unravel the things you were doing to his body.

  He thinks you need a little help, so he lifts the notebook from his lap, unveiling his aching cock stretching into the tightening fabric of his sweats.

  He watches your eyes shift to the subtle action, watches the skin around them spread back, and—fuck, your pupils are dilating?

  His breathing has deepened, and his dark eyes droop into begging slits. He needs you so bad, has been needing you all these months, but he doesn’t just need your body.

  “These weren’t my intentions,” his voice is so low, so gentle, bordering on a whisper, “please believe me. I’ve liked you for– fuck, I don’t know, a millenia I think.”

  His eyes wash all over your face, searching for any indication of a reaction, perhaps even reciprocity. He follows your eyes traveling back up to meet his. 

  Your gaze is velvety, eyes heavy-lidded and chasmic. You’re staring at his lips, parting with each deep breath he takes.

  “Do you like me too?” Hyuntak’s heartbeat hurts. His heart rhythmically hammers against its thoracic confines.

  You nod. His heart cramps.

  He needs to hear you, has to savour his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet confession.

  One of his hands slowly reaches up to the clip imprisoning your hair, unclipping it and letting your hair brush down your neck.

  The clip falls from his hand and onto the space on the couch behind you. He snakes his hand past your hair, lets his fingers graze into a delicate hold on the back of your neck. He gently rubs. 

  “Words, baby.”

  You think you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

  “I like you, too, Hyuntak,” you murmur.

  Hyuntak exhales.

  “Please, can I kiss you?” It’s a muted whimper.

  You pry the textbook and sheets of notes off your lap, pushing them onto the couch beside you, before you lean into Hyuntak, answering him more viscerally than he had calculated.

  The hand on your neck is hooking you in, responding to your movement.

  The heavy lids of your eyes give up, closing to a shut.

  You definitely can’t breathe now, and there’s no point in trying because your lips are molding into the plush pinkness of Hyuntak’s.

  It’s such a desperate kiss, you're both moving into the plushness of the other. You think you can taste his hunger on his lips, and you think you might wail because he tastes starved.

  Hyuntak swats your notebook onto the couch beside him, fingers gripping into the supple flesh of your neck and slowly grazing down your back. His hand falls to your hip, squeezing it, his other hand clutching your opposite thigh to work you onto his lap.

  Your body yields to him. Lips still moving into one another, you let him guide your hips onto his.

  You break away, noses grazing, breaths deep. And then, you’re latching back onto each other.

  The seconds melt, stretching like honey between your mouths. It’s slow, then urgent, and everything in between. It’s you and Hyuntak pouring months of anticipation and desperation into each other. Your lips are swelling against the other, saliva mixed into a drowsy potion that you both keep lapping at.

  Hyuntak’s hands are gripping onto your hips, and you find yourself grinding your heat down into his hardness. He groans, his sound reverberating into you, and grips harder, pushing himself up into you. His body responds to you unconsciously.

  Your lips are melting into one another, your hips are joined right where you both needed each other, separated by what you both thought was too much fabric. The leisurely friction heats the slit between your legs. You feel the hard curve of his cock rubbing the moistening patch on your panties into your hole.

  Hyuntak’s hands are silking their way into your shirt, rubbing and gripping your bare waist, when he breaks away.

  He’s panting, his voice hoarse, nose chafing yours. “Bedroom?”

  “Please.”

  And then your lips drive back into each other.

  You’re wrapping your arms around his neck, his around your waist, when he pushes the two of you into a stand, staggering across his apartment to his bedroom with your body pressed against his. Your hands are feeding into his hair, tugging, luxuriating in the softness of his strands. You feel him moan against your lips.

  When you break away, it’s almost painful. You didn’t need to breathe anymore, you just needed his mouth on yours, lips working into yours, sucking your tongue against his. 

  He lowers you onto his bed, and you finally get to see what had become of him.

  His lips are swollen, red and covered in a blend of your spit, parted to let the string of quick, deep breaths flow out of him. His hair is fluffed, strands sticking out to where your hands had been, almost aching, reaching out for your touch again. Dark strands loll over his eyes, his heavy, heavy eyes that crawl over your body, licking, biting, sucking at your supple skin with his leaden gaze.

  You’re no different. Your pout has swelled, pink and wet. Your nipples pebble against the material of your shirt, breasts raising with each hallowing breath that flutters past your lips, weeping out for his hands to touch them. You’re leaning back on your hands, your legs spread into brackets fit just for Hyuntak’s frame.

  His hands reach back and grab onto his hoodie, pulling it over his head, letting it fall from his pulsing forearm and to the ground.

  His golden skin looks so warm to touch, and you think you might reach out to graze your fingers down the ridges of his tight torso, but Hyuntak is already moving.

  He’s leaning down into you, his arms caging your waist, warm hand brushing along your lower back. He’s catching your lips in an embrace, softly sucking onto your bottom lip, licking it and letting it swell in his mouth, then pulls away to look at you.

  His fingers rub the fabric of your t-shirt between their tips. “Can I take this off?”

  “Yes,” you breathe.

  There’s a warm glint in his eyes, and then he nods. His hands slide under your shirt, savouring the heat of your waist, before lifting it up and over your head.

  There’s an inviting coolness in Hyuntak’s room, and it hits your fiery skin, dousing over the upper half of your body, hardening your nipples even more.

  You peek up at Hyuntak.

  He’s already gazing at you, eyes soft, smooth like melted milk chocolate, slowly breathing through his nose. Your shirt falls from his hand, onto the blue pool of his hoodie.

  Hyuntak is taken by the sight of your half-naked body. He thinks he nearly salivates when his eyes fall over your pretty tits, the most beautiful pair he thinks he’ll ever see. Perfect, simply because they were yours. He can’t help but let his tongue scrape against the roof of his mouth, trying to mimic the way he wants to lave over your hardened nipples.

  There’s a genial quirk to his swollen lips. Your cheeks start to flush, heating from the warmth of his gaze, and you feel a wistful smile takeover your features.

  Hyuntak leans back down into you. A strong arm curves against your back, the pads of his fingers whisper with the soft hairs prickling across the back of your neck.

  He delicately pulls you down against his mattress, and you let him. His forearm rests near your head, keeping him above you as he kisses you again, slow and wet. 

  His bare torso is so warm against yours. He’s bent over the edge of his bed, grinding down into you again. Your thighs are grazing his flanks, heels pressing into the edge of his bed, hips grinding up to answer his, scavenging for more traction.

  Hyuntak’s arm is pressing your body into his, desperately trying to dissolve your beings together. The feeling of your tits rubbing against his chest makes him shiver with anticipation.

  His big hand skims down your back, circling lazily over your waist. It climbs higher up, inching closer to your breast, until his palm smoothes over your peak. 

  You sigh into his mouth, and Hyuntak is urged to give you more, whatever you need, so he can hear more of your ethereal sounds.

  He gathers as much of you as he can into the cup of his hand, pressing into your pretty tit, and gives it a soft squeeze. You moan into him, and he bucks his hips harder into you.

  His thumb murmurs slowly over your nipple, rubbing a languid circle around it, rousing a whine from the back of your throat.

  Hyuntak groans, pulling away from your lips with a pop, and plants an urgent kiss to the corner of your mouth. He kisses down your jaw, mouth open and hot, onto your neck, gently sucking at your skin. 

  You’re too swept in the feeling of his hot lips loitering down your complexion to realize Hyuntak has a destination in mind. 

  His tongue flattens over your pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

  “Mmmm.”

  Hyuntak sucks harder, swirling his tongue over the tip of your peak. His hand is pushing more of your breast into his mouth. 

  Your lips vibrate with moans. Your slick is pooling into your panties, splurging within your pussy lips with each grind Hyuntak offers. Your toes curl into the comforter because of how desperately you're pushing your hips into his. One of your hands is clutching at his hard shoulder, the other basking through his hair.

  You needed more, god you needed so much more.

  You're pulling Hyuntak’s head off your chest, your fingers gripping into his hair. His lips suck off your nipple, leaving it with a sheen of his saliva, a thin sliver of spit being the only thing connecting him to your breast.

  He pops off with a moan, eyes shut tight at the feeling of your tugging at him. He opens them, lids shadowing his sight with desire. 

  Your eyes are pleading, soaking him in. “Need more, Hyune.”

  Hyuntak feels your order shoot straight to his throbbing dick, then nods.

  And his lips are back on your skin, soft as sin.

  “I’ll give it to you, baby, gonna give it to you so good,” he murmurs against you, moving down your body.

  His fingers hook into the band of your sweats. “M’gonna make you feel so good.”

  You’re up, leaning back against your forearms. You lift your hips to let him tug your sweats off your legs.

  He draws them off, kneeling in between your legs on the edge of the bed. His hands skim over your legs, fingers trailing absentmindedly over the expanse of your skin.

  You’re an angel beneath him, almost bare on his sheets if not for your white panties, the cute little bow that decorates the waistband inviting Hyuntak to unwrap you. His eyes dance over you, over the wet patch that renders the fabric just under your hole translucent. 

  Fuck, you were a wet dream, the most beautiful, cinematic wet dream rejuvenated into reality, spread out just for him, soaking just for him. Hyuntak takes in your angel form, and he is wreaked. 

  You were lying there all pretty, on his bed, and Hyuntak can’t help but think the months of prowling with the torturous feeling your presence gave him was irrefutably worth it.

  Hyuntak clasps a hand over one of your ankles, lifting it up to rest on his shoulder, fingers lightly grazing up and down. He grapples with the whimper that threatens to spill out of him.

  “Look so pretty, so perfect for me.” He licks his lips. “Been such a smart girl, hm? Need to reward you.”

  Hyuntak wants to stand there, idolizing you with parted lips, watching your tits expand with each of your breaths, eyes droop with need, hips twitch with hopelessness. But he has to give you what you need, has to make you feel good.

  He itches to make you feel good. He has to, after all, you’d been working so hard this semester.

  So, he slowly drops to his knees in front of you and pulls your thighs onto his shoulders.

  He can smell your heady wetness through your panties, now lucid from your deprivation. He breathes out against you.

  His air cools the patch of slick. It’s a potent sensation that has your back curving off the sheets.

  “Take them off, please,” it leaves your lips concealed in a whine.

  Hyuntak brushes the tip of his nose against your aching bud, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the soaked patch.

  You’re cunt flutters, trying to clamp down on emptiness. You whimper.

  Hyuntak slings his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, dragging them through your legs before they finally clear your feet.

  He’s gripping your thighs down into his shoulders, drinking in the sight of you, bare and spread for him. 

  “Such a pretty cunt… my smart, beautiful girl,” he mumbles, eyes drowning in the sight of your glistening pussy, watching your stickiness pool out of you. He wants to savour you, wants to drag his tongue through you with selfishness and greed until he knows his taste buds will be coated with you for days. He wants to take his time, but you had been so good, so smart, working so hard, and you needed him so badly. The last thing Hyuntak wanted to do was deny you for his own pleasure.

  He decides he’ll hold you down and savour you another time, before he crashes into you.

  Hyuntak licks a thick strip from your hole to your clit. It’s such a delicious feeling, there’s a moan breaking through your voice box, and your hips are delinquently rolling themselves into his tongue.

  He sucks your clit into his mouth, licking once across its surface, and letting it go. His tongue squishes through your folds, driving back to dig the tip into your hole, and doing it all over again like a broken record.

  The sounds are filthy, wet with lust. You can hear Hyuntak sucking on your clit, hear his tongue squelch and squish through your slick. Moans and whimpers are clambering out of you, whether you want them to or not.

  He’s sucking your bud when you feel the tip of his middle finger flit around the outskirts of your cunt. He can feel your walls clench, trying to suck him in, and he smirks against you at your need.

  But he can’t hold back on you, so he lets it sink in, lets you coat his finger with your wetness, lets you squeeze around him, before he pulls it back out and glides it back in with his ring finger.

  The stimulation is just right. It feels so good with his fingers slowly pumping into you, his mouth sucking and licking your aching nub. You fall back against the sheets, shutting your eyes and dragging the tips of your toes over Hyuntak’s back. Your hand trails down your front, finding his tousled locks, and you twine your fingers into them.

  Hyuntak groans against you, stimulating your clit further. He curls his fingers, digging them deeper into your cunt. He slightly flexes them out when you clench around him, resisting your confines and giving you a larger stretch.

  You’re breathing faster, deeper, just as Hyuntak’s fingers are working into you. You feel heat spread through your face, down into your chest and through your limbs. Your hips roll with the wave of Hyuntak’s hands. There’s a coiling at your core that has you moaning for more.

  Hyuntak feels you rolling your hips harder against him, feels your thighs starting to squeeze the sides of his face, feels you tugging harder at his hair, and he knows he’s drawing you closer to a release. So he plants his fingers in deep and curls them against the spot that has you gushing, whimpering his name over and over, until finally, you twitch, your cunt clenches, fluttering open and shut, and you're a whining mess above him.

  Hyuntak lets his fingers rest in your contracting cunt when he pulls away from your clit. He brings his thumb to gently rub against it, helping you come down from your release.

  Hyuntak is wrecked. His lips are parted, coated with your slick that dribbles down his chin. His hair is messed from your hold, spiking out and flatted against his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, draining in how undone you are. 

  Your sweet, swollen lips are parted, deep pants escaping through them and making your breasts heave with each breath. You let go of his hair, dragging your hand up to grip onto the sheets near your head.

  He watches you, and soon becomes aware of his hips bucking against the side of his bed, trying to catch a release of his own.

  He’s so hard it hurts, so wet he’s soaked a small patch of his own through his boxers and into the material of his sweats.

  Hyuntak doesn’t think his body has ever been so desperate for someone. He’s desperate for you, the girl who’s been unintentionally tampering with his breathing, setting his heart ablaze with white fire, making his palms sweat up a sixth ocean for the past few months.

  And now, Hyuntak thinks he finally has you desperate for him, right where he wants you, leaking onto his sheets and moaning his name.

  Hyuntak was the most fortunate idiot in the world.

  “Did so good, baby, you look so pretty right now,” he sighs, licking at the taste of you on his lips. You peek open your eyes and take him in.

  He slowly pulls his fingers out of you with a squelch, leaving you empty and squeezing onto nothing.

  “Wanna taste?” 

  You nod. “Mhm.”

  He brings his fingers to your lips, coats them with your wetness. They part just enough for him to slide them in. You drag your tongue around them, sucking them further into your mouth, and Hyuntak strains to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. He thinks he might cum from watching you, feeling you, so he pulls his fingers back, enduring your suction. 

  They latch off with a pop.

  “Want you inside, Hyune. Fuck me, please,” you’re mumbling.

  Hyuntak was going to combust. Your words grip onto his paining dick, and he’s bounding onto his feet.

  His thumbs slide under the waistband of his boxers, and he pushes them down with his sweats. His cock is springing out, bobbing against his lower stomach, veins pulsing out of his skin. His tip is sticky, glossed over with his precum.

  “I have some condoms, Hu-min gave them to me,” he clarifies with a mutter, hoping you don’t get the idea that he's been anticipating sexual encounters, “I’ll grab one–”

  “No,” you murmur, “Want you bare.”

  Gosh, were you trying to kill him?

  He gapes at you. “Are you– are you sure?”

  You lazily nod, heaving, back still arched. “I cleared my test, and I’m on birth control.”

  He takes a second to process what you said, process the fact that you wanted him bare inside you, then slowly nods, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “Okay… okay, I tested negative, too.”

  He mounts himself onto the bed, kneeling before you, fingers rubbing over your knees. You’re slowly breathing, looking up at him with your fucked out eyes.

  “You’re sure, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  And then Hyuntak is caging himself over you, sliding his hand up your thigh and hooking it over his hip.

  “Wrap your legs around me, pretty girl.” You obey him.

  He hoists you closer to his abdomen and shifts you up until your head digs into his pillows. He lowers himself onto his forearms, his fingers looping into your hair, the soft strands that stray over the pillows.

  Your gaze is drowsy, reaching out into his eyes and drawing him in. Hyuntak is reeling his head lower, giving into your spell. His lips feather over your own until he’s pressing them down into a kiss far too innocent for your current arrangement.

  Your legs, wrapped snug over Hyuntak’s hips, drag him down until the length of his cock rubs into your wettening folds and he’s whining into your mouth.

  He pulls back his head. God, he needs to be in you so bad.

  He snakes a hand down to line himself against your hole, rubbing his tip against you, making you writhe your hips for more.

  “Please, Hyuntak,” you whimper, and that’s enough to do him over.

  Hyuntak sinks into you, and you moan in tandem.

  Your walls are so hot, so inviting, hugging around him like you never want him to leave. He’s pushing himself in, feeling each of his inches get sucked in by your confines.

  He looks into your half-open eyes. “Okay?”

  “Mmm, Hyune, feels so good, so full.”

  He breathes out a moan, dropping his head into your shoulder. Your reassurance drives all the scorching blood in his body to the only part of him that’s buried in you.

  Hyuntak slowly pulls himself back out, dragging his veiny rod against your pulsing walls, before he’s sinking himself back into you, filling you full.

  He flattens his hand against your back, curving you into his chest, feeling your tits press into him. Then, he’s grabbing onto your hip so he can really start pounding into you.

  The squelch of your pussy around his pumping cock fills the room, your little gasps and broken whimpers serenade the fibres in his ears. His open mouth rests against the base of your neck, wreaked moans sinking into your warm skin. Your hands are in his already unkempt hair, nails digging into his neck and scraping over his upper back. 

  He’s fucking into you slow, deliberate, letting you feel all his passion, trying to get you to acknowledge the hard times you had given him, or rather, all the times you had gotten him hard. He wasn’t greedy before, but now? Hyuntak believes he has all the right to take you exactly how he wants.

  Make you feel the stretch of his cock in your gushing cunt.

  Make you whimper and whine over the loving manner with which he pumps himself into you.

  He snaps his hips, squeezes onto yours, and grinds his dick deeper into you. His tip grazes your g-spot, and you clench around him, trying to keep him in, trying to make him stay there and rutt into your spot over and over until you’re coming for him all over again. You squeeze your legs around him, attempting to bury him further into you.

  But Hyuntak pulls himself out with a groan, pushing against the hold of your cunt and legs. He bucks himself deep inside you again and pulls out with a fastened pace.

  He’s so hard, so deep, but he’s still so gentle, so raw. His fingers are wreathing through your hair, the pad of his thumb is circling over your hip bone, and he’s mumbling against the supple skin of your neck.

  “Taking me so well, baby, fuck.”

  “Feel that? Feel how hard you made me? It’s all for you, just for you.”

  “Been getting me so hot and hard for months. Gonna fuck it all into you now, m’gonna make you take it.”

  You’re whining at his words, rolling your hips to match his pace.

  The hand on your hip is smoothing over your lower stomach, his palm pressing into it when he pounds into your g-spot again. You’re whimpering at the friction of his tip against your sweet spot, gripping whatever part of him you can get your hands on. Then, he’s sliding his hand down, his fingers pushing your swollen clit out from under its hood, and rubbing down into it.

  The pressure is enough to make you twitch, chasing your second release. Hyuntak is still rutting himself into you when you feel the coil burst in the depths of your abdomen, you cunt finally giving in and clenching down on his cock again and again and again.

  “God, Hyune– nngh.”

  Hyuntak’s hot, heavy eyes are pouring into yours when you come undone for him again. He basks in the moans trailing out of your parted mouth, and when he hears you repeating his name, masked in lewd whines, he feels a coiling of his own brewing deep within him.

  His abs tighten, arms bulge, hands gripping into your hair. His mouth falls open with groans, and he whimpers your name when the tense string finally tightens and snaps. His hips are worn, bucking into you hopelessly, wretchedly, and his deviled cock is draining your spent pussy walls with his hot seed.

  He’s spurting into you, and you're clenching onto him, wrapping your tight walls around him and sucking up each drop he has to offer you.

  He fucks his cum deep into you with one more thrust before his hips slow to a stop inside you. He’s still lazily rubbing over your clit, halting with a chuckle when he feels you squirm from overstimulation.

  You're both panting, noses rubbing softly, and Hyuntak wants to stay like this forever, with his cock stuffing you and your cunt full of his searing cum. But he knows he can’t, and he can feel himself softening, so he delicately starts to pull himself out of you. 

  You let out a low mewl in protest, and Hyuntak answers you with a mellow whine of his own.

  He twists himself to lay on his side next to you. His eyes wash over you, over your hair sprawled in a sea around your head on his pillows, your plush, still swelling pink lips, your eyes, now soft and kind, squinting at him when you smile up at him.

  Hyuntak melts, and knows he’s never seen anything more beautiful. He wants to wrap you up in blankets and kiss you all over your glowing face, but he thinks you’d benefit more from something edible.

  So, he smiles back at you and says, “I made ramen, I promised you, didn’t I?”

  You giggle, your hands reaching for his neck and pulling him down to your lips.

  “Maybe after one more round?” you suggest, mumbling against him, eying him with a playful twinkle.

  Hyuntak thinks he feels his blood mockingly rush back into his cock, and he’s a goner.

  The ramen will just have to wait. Again.

© chanifesto

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crash

words: 2k

warnings: car crash, drinking, partying, soft!rafe, descriptions of blood, rafe and sarah actually get along, underage drinking? (i guess sarah but this doesnt fit in with the obx timeline), topper and sarah dating, established relationship, surgery, hospital setting, injuries, fluffy, they say i love you a lot

“you good to drive top?” rafe tosses the keys towards his friend. rafe usually wouldn't trust anyone else with his truck, but he wouldn't drive with even one drink in his system when he has such precious cargo.

“yeah, man.” topper catches the keys one handed with ease, pulling sarah behind him with his free hand.

rafe looks to you, wrapped against his side, steps slightly wobbly, a small giggle escaping your lips as he opens the back door for you.

“why thank you.” you step in with rafes help, immediately flopping down in the seat. 

“gotta buckle up, baby.” rafe may be slightly tipsy as well, but he's not as far gone as you are, having indulged with your girlfriends at the party, including sarah who is clearly the drunkest out of the group as topper has to physically lift her into the passenger seat.

“mkay.” you hum, letting rafe do up your buckle in the middle seat before you collapse against his side, eyes closing instantly as your tiredness sets in.

“did you have fun?” rafe asks as topper gets in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“mhm.” you hum out again, not wanting to actually open your mouth to speak as the truck moves out of its parking spot, topper carefully driving down the road as he squints slightly into the darkness before turning the brights on to illuminate the road more.

“just head to mine, top.” sarah says, reaching over to place her hand on his bicep. “you can spend the night.”

“in the guest bedroom.” rafe adds on. he can't see sarah roll her eyes, but he knows she does.

“shh, young love is cute rafey.” you mumble, rubbing your head against his chest like a cat would snuggle into their owner.

“im like only three years younger than-” sarah can't finish her sentence as topper blares on the horn seconds before another truck rams into the passenger side, sending the truck spinning through the intersection. before you even realize what is happening, you're upside down, then right side up, then upside down again before the truck ends up on its tires once more, now off the side of the road.

“fuck!” topper shouts out, his hands running over his body, checking to see that he’s okay before turning to look to sarah, who is clearly shaken but uninjured. “everyone okay?”

“baby?” rafes arm caged you against his body during the impact, but the rolling dislodged you as the top of the car crunched down.

“shit…” you groan, reaching up to touch your forehead, having smacked it against something in the crash. you pull your hand away to realize that your fingertips are red with blood.

“im bleeding.” you wheeze out, panic suddenly setting in as you try to move before realizing you’re trapped, leg pinned under sarah’s seat which has been pushed in towards you from the impact.

“baby, baby!” rafes voice breaks through your panic as his hands grip at your wrists until you stop your flailing. “stay calm, im getting us out.”

topper is able to kick his door open before rounding the now completely wrecked hood to get sarah out. he looks at the intersection to see the truck that plowed into them now blocking the center of the roadway. 

“i-i can’t get out rafe. my leg is pinned. i-i think its okay though.” you’re not sure if your words are the truth, afterall, your head feels completely fine and judging from the blood you have to wipe away from your eye, its not.

“okay, shit.” tears stream down rafes face as he looks over you, allowing himself a split second of panic before he instantly begins to move in the crumpled truck, tearing at the bottom of his shirt until he’s able to pull off a chunk, moving it to your forehead and pushing against the cut despite your grimace.

“its okay.” rafe assures you softly. “ive got you. you’re okay. you’re okay.” the repeating words are partially for rafe as he reaches with his free hand to under the seat, feeling that your leg isn’t bleeding, just stuck at the ankle by a bar under the seat.

“call 911!” rafe yells, and sarah instantly pulls out her phone from her back pocket, glad it survived the crash.

“fuck-i-” tears form in your eyes as the pain sets in, as you see the panic in rafes face and realize how bad you must look. “im scared.”

“im scared too baby, but its gonna be okay, just stick with me.” rafe can’t help himself, he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek despite the sweat and drops of blood, he needs to reassure you that everything will be alright.

when rafe pulls away from the kiss, his eyes are blown wide, brows raised. “what is it?” you begin to squirm again.

“nothing, i got you.” rafe works to unbuckle his and then your seatbelt as the fabric of his shirt is now dyed completely red with your blood. he doesn’t want to tell you how shockingly cold and clammy your skin felt when he pressed a kiss against it.

“topper!” rafe shouts. “try to move this fucking seat!” rafe can’t just sit still, managing to push at it with one of his legs as topper pries at the seat, the sound of sirens approaching.

“see that, baby?” rafe looks at you, even able to tell in the dim lighting that your face has gone unnaturally pale. “help is coming, okay?”

it’s a fire truck that arrives first. they do a quick assessment of everyone at the scene before helping topper and rafe, who have not given up on moving the seat. they get it to budge just enough for you to pull your leg out with a sigh of relief as the ambulance arrives.

“come here.” rafe feels a pang of pain is side, but he ignores it as he climbs out of the car, pulling you into his arms. “she needs to go first.”

rafe knows eventually they’ll all get taken to the hospital, but you’re his priority.

“the other guys got a broken leg-” a firemen begins to explain to the emts as they lower the gurney. 

“and hes the one that fucking hit us!” rafe shouts. “my girlfriends got a head injury, she’s going first.”

the emt takes one look at you and nods, motioning for rafe to lay you down. the emt instantly takes over, applying more gauze to your forehead but leaving the crumpled bit of rafes shirt there, hoping that it’s clotting underneath.

they raise the gurney up, rafe climbing in the back with you as a second ambulance pulls up, probably to take the other driver.

rafe tries to talk to you as the emt moves around the back of the ambulance, checking the rest of your body, grimacing slightly when she sees your ankle, which is already swelling and turning purple.

the ride and transfer into the hospital is a rush, and despite rafe not wanting to leave your side, you’re taken for further examination while he has to stay behind.

“sir, we should get you checked out too.” a nurse says softly, his voice too calming for rafe, which just causes the anger he’s been holding inside to bubble over.

“not until i know y/n is okay.” he says firmly, walking out of the waiting room before he can say another word or start punching shit and get himself kicked out. rafe moves towards a tree, pummeling his fists into the bark until they’re bloody and bruised. 

with the anger now at a simmering level, rafe walks back into the emergency room entrance, looking for an update on your condition, only grunting his disapproval before slumping into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.

rafe doesn’t even realize that he’s fallen asleep until he's being shaken awake by topper.

“y/n.” rafe stands suddenly, cursing at himself for falling asleep in the first place, but his body crashed from the adrenaline.

“shes alright. the doctor just updated us.”

rafe walks past topper, noticing sarah sleeping in one of the other waiting room chairs, relieved to see that they're both fine and not admitted.

“room 1007.” topper calls out as rafe moves past the nurses station to find you.

you are still groggy as the medicine works it's way through your system, and the feeling of stitches on your head is an unusual weight against your skin, yet you still smile widely when rafe enters the room.

“im okay.” you confirm instantly as he rushes to the side of your bed.

“god,” rafe places his hand on your cheek, his gaze darting between your eyes and the gash on your forehead, looking a lot less serious now that the bleeding has stopped. “im so sorry baby.”

you shake your head. “i really am fine. this nice nurse was explaining to me that head injuries bleed a lot and always make it seem worse than it is. and my ankle is just bruised and sprained, not even broken.”

“you won't be using that ankle any time soon anyways.” rafe leans forward to press a gentle kiss against your cheek. “you're getting carried everywhere, i hope you know that.”

you laugh before suddenly stopping, watching as rafes face turns pale, a sheen of sweat seeking to suddenly appear over his face.

“rafe?” you watch as he blinks heavily, once, twice, then his eyes slide closed as he drops forward, landing on the bed, body completely slack.

“nurse! nurse! help!”

--

“ma’am, you should be resting in your own bed. you're still a patient here.”

you're well aware you're a patient, moving around the floor in your hospital gown and hauling the iv attached to your arm.

“ill rest when i know my boyfriend is okay.”

“he had internal bleeding and wasn't seen for hours after the crash. he's in surgery but it won't be short, we are being as thorough as possible to make sure he's going to be okay.” the nurse explains to you gently.

“ill go sit.” you say, mostly because you feel like your legs might give out at any moment, and you're tired of hopping around on your one good ankle. “but i will not be resting until i know rafe-”

a bell dings and cuts you off, the nurse rushing off without another word.

“shit.” you groan, just glad she ran off in the opposite direction of where rafe is in surgery. 

you hop back to the waiting room and drop into the seat next to topper.

“im so sorry, y/n.” topper says, apologizing yet again.

“it wasn't your fault, top.” you shake your head. “he hit us out of nowhere, you couldn't have done anything.”

“maybe if id just gone a little slower-” you tune out whatever else topper is saying, stomach churning as you watch in waiting for an update on rafe.

--

“he's awake and asking for you.”

“thank god.” you jump up, cringing when you land on your hurt ankle. 

“im taking you there in a wheelchair whether you like it or not.” the nurse whose been with you all night says. “but ill walk fast.”

you sit on the chair, needing to get to rafe as fast as possible, and you know the nurse understands just how much you need to see him as she rushes down the hallway.

“baby.” rafe is sat in bed, looking so much younger and vulnerable in that moment. “are you okay?”

“me?” you laugh and shake your head, moving to carefully sit on the bed next to him. “you just got out of surgery. you needed a blood transfusion.”

“mmm.” rafe shakes his head. “are you okay?” he asks again.

“yes.” you nod, tears coming to your eyes. “im okay now that you're okay. don't you ever put your health off again just for me.”

you lean forward and press your lips against rafes, kissing him softly even though he can barely manage to move his mouth to meet you.

“i love you.” you tell rafe. “and i don't want to live without you.”

“i love you too baby.” rafes cheeks stretch as he smiles, and your chest flutters with relief as the spark in his eyes comes back.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[riotraze]

What the fuck? That wouldn't even run my system, and I'm still running a 1080

Fifteen years ago it was common knowledge that if you wanted to buy a gaming PC, the first thing you did with it should always be to replace the fans, heat sinks and power supply with hardware that doesn't suck, because they always cut corners on those components to increase their profit margins, and it turns out a midrange tower will often outperform a top-of-the-line model that's suffering from constant voltage drops and running thirty degrees over the recommended operating temperature. I've been idly looking into the possibility of upgrading lately, and I cannot believe the situation has gotten even worse in that span. I just saw a pre-built box from a major brand sporting a GeForce 40 series running on a 400 watt PSU. Dude, what the fuck.

[davepaste]

this is a humbling experience

[hamadisthings]

HELP US STOP CHAT CONTROL!

If you live in the EU, you absolutely need to pay attention to what's to come. What is Chat Control, you may ask? In a (failed) attempt to combat child abuse online the EU made Chat Control, Chat Control will result in getting your private messages and emails to be scanned by artificial intelligence aka AI to search for CSAM pictures or discussion that might have grooming in there. And on top of having your private conversations handed to AI or the police to snoop in, like your family pictures, selfies, or more sensitive pics, like the medical kind, only meant to be seen by your doctors, or the "flirtatious" kind you send to your partner, you either have to ACCEPT to be scanned...or else you will be forbidden from sending pictures, videos, or even links, as said here.

Kids should absolutely be protected online, without question, but the things that Chat Control gets wrong is that this is a blatant violation of privacy, without even considering the fact that AI WILL create tons of false positives, this is not a theory, this is a fact. And for all the false positives that will be detected, all of them will be sent to the police, which will just flood their system with useless junk instead of efficiently putting resources to actual protect kids from predators.

It also does not help that politicians, police officers, soldiers etc will be exempt from Chat Control if it passes. If it's for the sake of protection, shouldn't everyone get the same treatment? Which further prove that Chat Control would NOT keep your data of private life safe. Plus, bad actors will simply stop using messenger apps as soon as they know they're being tracked, using more obscure means, meanwhile innocent people will be punished by using those services On top of this, the EU also plans on reintroducing Data retention called "EU Going Dark". Both Chat Control and EU Going Dark are clear violation of the GDPR, and even if they shouldn't stand a chance in court, its not going to prevent politicians from trying to ram these through as an excuse to mass surveil European citizens, using kids as a shield. Even teenagers sending pictures to each other won't be exempt, which entirely goes against the purpose of protecting kids by retaining their private photos instead. Furthermore, once messaging apps are forced to comply with Chat Control, the president of Signal, a secured messaging app with encryption, have confirmed that they will be forced to leave the EU if this is enforced against them.

If Chat Control also ends up targeting any websites with the option of private messages, you better expect Europe to be geo-blocked by any websites offering such function. I would also like to add that EU citizens were very vocal in the fight against KOSA, an equally bad internet bill from the US-- and it showed! Which is why we heavily need the help of our fellow US peers to fight against Chat Control too, so please, because we all know if it passes, the US government will take a look at this and conclude "Ooh, a way to force mass surveillance on citizens even more than before? don't mind if I do!" It's always a snowball effect.

KEEP IN MIND THE EUROPE COUNCIL WILL LIKELY VOTE ON CHAT CONTROL THIS 19 JUNE OF NEXT WEEK TO SEE IF IT WILL ENTER TRILOGIES OR NOT. Even if it does enter Trilogues, the fight will only be beginning. Absentees may not count as a no, so it is crucial that you contact your MEPs HERE, as well as HERE, and you can also show your support for Edri's campaign against Chat Control HERE.

You can read more on Chat Control here as well, and you can find useful information as to which arguments to use when politely contacting your MEP (calling is better than email) here, and beneath you will find graphics you can use to spread the word!

YOU CAN ALSO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER (linked here) TO HELP ORGANIZE AGAINST CHAT CONTROL NON EU PEOPLE ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO JOIN TOO!

https://discord.gg/FPDJYkUujM

PLEASE REBLOG ! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT ! Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.

PLEASE REBLOG! NON EU PEOPLE ARE ENCOURAGED TO REBLOG AS WELL CONTACT YOUTUBERS, CONTENT CREATORS, ANYONE YOU KNOW THAT MAY HELP GET THE WORD OUT !

Let's fight for our Internet and actually keep kids safe online! Because Chat Control and EU Going Dark will only endanger kids.

[umamaki]

tw: NSFW, explicit smut, consensual violence, color system for consent, choking, breath play, hair pulling, dacryphilia, spanking, rough sex, markings (bruises, hickies, biting), bdsm i think, things of that nature

Rafayel doesn’t really hide the fact that he is a violent man. He doesn’t hide it when he sees your cute face and can’t help but feel the most intense cuteness aggression towards you. 

Greets you at his house and immediately has his head in his hands and jaw clenched tight, completely overwhelmed with the surge of emotions. He’s used to acting on his impulses, this is no different. 

The way he kisses you is telling enough. Once he feels your lips on his, a switch flips in his mind and he suddenly can’t get enough of you. Keeping you in place with his large hand holding the back of your head, kissing you with enough pressure that your teeth clash together and you reflexively walk backwards. Devours your lips to where you can’t recover fast enough to reciprocate his kisses.

Loves the way you look now, laying below him, face framed by his two hands leaving a bruising grip on your neck. Thinks it’s even cuter to see you struggle to take in breaths while he fucks the stamina out of you, letting you get a little dizzy before releasing you and fucking you impossibly harder as you try to regain your breath.

Otherwise, his hands are typically squeezing your ass, hips, tits, thighs. Gives him so much satisfaction to see your pretty body covered in darkening marks in the shape of his hands. 

Fucks you rough while the sweetest praises are coming out of his mouth. 

“You’re so cute, baby. You know that?” He coos while ramming his dick into your sopping cunt from behind. Watches your arched form below him, body jerking with each thrust and spank he gives you. Pulls you by your hair so you can turn your head just enough to lock eyes with him as you cum.

Thinks you’re even cuter with tears streaming down your face, makeup all messed up and a whimpering mess because of him. “Awh cutie, don’t cry. I know what’ll make you feel better,” he’ll say with faux comfort, only plunging his cock into you further.

Rafayel’s an artist, but he can’t decide if he likes the process or result of marking you up more. So shameless in how satisfied it makes him, seeing you covered up in developing bruises and bite marks. He’s a perfectionist, makes it all symmetrical. 

“Patience, baby, I haven’t even gotten to your left side yet,” even you’re pawing at his chest from the overstimulation.

He wants you to tell him to stop, tell him to control himself. The problem is, you’re enjoying this just as much as he is. 

“What color.” It’s less of a question and more of a demand, strained through his gritted teeth. Green, you’ll say, and he’ll grasp your chin so you’re looking at him. Makes you say it again, just to make sure his arousal and preoccupation isn’t clouding his hearing. It isn’t. Your color is still green. He gains confidence with the confirmation, makes it his mission that you’ll wake up sore the next morning. 

[sahisan]

nsfw. gn reader.

consent is so sexy to chuuya.

it's never about asking a fleeting "you good?" after ramming into you at full speed; never about fucking while drunk as hell while you both struggle to understand where up and down is and clearly cannot give one another a clear yes or no; never about abandoning your needs after he's already finished; never about ignoring your no and stop.

yet it's always about making love—passionately, slowly, closely, attentively and with care.

it's about him always preparing you with his fingers and only then starting, and, even then, it's slow and he always gives you as much time as you need to adjust even if it's not your first time with him; it's about asking a quiet "you okay? wan' me to continue?" as your hand squeezes the muscle of his forearm and setting a color system with green, yellow and red and sometimes stopping to ask you "color?" and only then go ahead if it's green; it's about keeping himself in check even when he's drowned three glasses of wine to not let anything bad or out of control happen; it's about stopping when you tell him to.

and chuuya makes love, always and every time you have sex. his eyes shine with so much adoration and love, and sometimes even with unshed tears glistening in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill over as he chants "loveyouloveyouloveyou" shakily into your ear or the crook of your neck while continuing the descend of his mouth down to your chest, worshipping your body with his hands and getting a hand between your legs as well, and speeding up the pace of his thrusts as the coil in his lower abdomen is threatening to let loose any moment as he hugs you as tight and as close as possible to him, not leaving an inch of space between your bodies, pathetic whimpers bordering on genuine cries and quiet groans leaving his mouth every moment.

consent is always about love and recognition to chuuya.

[dilfdicks]

cw: infidelity

gojo just can't bring himself to care that you're dating his best friend. he's had all the late night guy-talk sessions with suguru and he knows that the man doesn't treat you good enough in bed. suguru is always confiding in satoru about how you seem to fake your orgasms, and how long it takes him on the rare occasion he is able to make you cum. it's not like his friend is bad at sex, he just hasn't taken the time to learn your body.

you're so pretty, satoru knows you'd look so good wrapped around his cock. he can't believe your godly presence is wasted on a man that doesnt care to earn the ins-and-outs of your body.

so when you and suguru fight one day, satoru is the first to step in and offer you his comforts. a hand on your shoulder that aches to trickle down and squeeze at your tits. god you're so pretty when you're all teary eyed and vulnerable.

"he can't even make me finish," is a sentence that leaves your lips before you can stop it and god is satoru thankful for your slip up because otherwise he'd have no opportunity to move in.

you're taken aback when he kisses you, gentle and loving and not at all mean and hungry like he wants to. you pull back, shaking your head and mumbling about how this is wrong but your thighs are squeezing together and you chase his lips when gojo pulls back entirely.

you realise with a tearing guilt in your chest that you want this, to taste what the strongest is willing to give you. and whatever bad feelings pool in your heart are numbed for the time being when satoru hauls you onto your back and parts your knees with his hands.

he's a horrible friend, and you're a horrible partner, but he makes you cum twice on his tongue before even daring to push his dick into you. your orgasms are full bodied and eye-opening and a testament to your guilt because when satoru reaches over for a condom you stop him. you never took suguru raw, always made him wear a condom and pull out just to be safe: but in that moment you think you'd die if you weren't pumped full of his best friends cum.

and you might die, because the stretch of gojos girth is a shock to your system and you think the afterlife might not be so bad if it tastes like him. you take him fully after a few minutes to adjust and the rest is history: you're infatuated with the first stroke and in love with the second.

satoru fills you up with his cum after only a few minutes, though you don't mind his quick climax because you're at heel and cumming on his cock in the same minute. and he pulls out, lets his cum leak out of you onto the sheets beneath you before ramming his length into you again. and again. and again.

and all he can think about as he fucks you for the second (but not last) time of the night is how much better he is for you than suguru. and, if you're awful like he hopes you are and keep him around, how the next time you let suguru fuck you it's 'satoru' thats going to fall from your lips.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

01010000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101101 01101111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01101110 00100000 01100001 01101110 01111001 01101111 01101110 01100101 00100000 01100101 01101100 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100101 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01100001 01101100 01110111 01100001 01111001 01110011 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000

[usafphantom2]

Aircraft engine types ✈️

✈️Turbo-Shaft: Used in helicopters and some fixed-wing aircraft, it features a compressor, combustion chamber, and turbine. The turbine drives a power shaft via a free (power) turbine, which powers the rotor or propeller through a gearbox, rather than producing direct thrust. Exhaust gases are expelled separately.

✈️Turbo-Prop: Similar to a turbo-shaft, it powers a propeller via a gearbox. Air is compressed, mixed with fuel, and burned in the combustion chamber. The turbine extracts energy to drive the propeller, with some exhaust thrust. It’s efficient for low-speed, short-range flights.

✈️Turbo-Fan: Common in commercial jets, it has a large fan at the front, high- and low-pressure compressors, a combustion chamber, and turbines. The fan accelerates air around the core (bypass air) for thrust, while the core produces additional thrust via exhaust. It’s efficient for high-speed, long-range flights.

✈️Turbo-Jet: An older design, it compresses air, burns fuel in the combustion chamber, and expels exhaust through a nozzle for thrust. It lacks a bypass fan, making it less efficient but capable of high speeds. Used in early jet fighters and some supersonic aircraft.

✈️Ram-Jet: Operates at high speeds (Mach > 1), using forward motion to compress air in the inlet. Fuel is injected and burned in the combustion chamber, and the exhaust is expelled through a nozzle for thrust. It has no moving parts but only works at high speeds.

✈️Scramjet: A supersonic combustion ramjet, designed for hypersonic speeds (Mach > 5). Air enters at supersonic speeds, is compressed, mixed with fuel, and burned in a combustion chamber, with exhaust expelled for thrust. It’s used in experimental hypersonic vehicles.

✈️Rocket: Uses stored propellants (fuel and oxidizer) in a pressure vessel. Propellants are burned in a combustion chamber, and the high-pressure exhaust is expelled through a nozzle for thrust. It operates in space since it doesn’t rely on atmospheric oxygen.

✈️Gas Turbine: Similar to a turbo-shaft, it’s used for power generation or auxiliary power units. Air is compressed, burned with fuel, and the exhaust drives a power turbine, which can power generators or other systems. Bleed valves and discharge ports manage airflow and pressure.

Each engine type is optimized for specific applications, balancing efficiency, speed, and operational environment.

@Airmainengineer via X