#Best USB Memory Stick

[opticalmediamanufacturinginc]

Top Picks for the Best USB Flash Drives in 2024

The fast-paced digital environment of today calls for dependable and portable storage options. The best USB flash drives are indispensable whether you're looking for a way to carry vital files, backup treasured memories, or just copy key paperwork. Given so many options, it can be challenging to choose the best one. This article will lead you through the salient features and assist you in selecting from the best USB flash drives in 2024, simplifying and guiding your choice.

Why You Need the Best USB Flash Drives

Anyone who requires fast, portable storage must own a USB flash drive. Unlike more weighty outside hard drives, they fit readily in your pocket, keychain, or purse. Having one of the top USB flash drives will streamline your workflow and provide peace of mind whether your job requires you to back up critical business files or you are a student needing to transfer projects between home and school.

Another factor making USB flash drives so common is their adaptability. They operate on many devices, including cell phones, laptops, and PCs. They also provide a great substitute in cases of limited internet access or privacy-related avoidance of cloud storage.

Key Considerations for Choosing the Best USB Flash Drives

Storage Capacity

Storage capacity is among the first things to consider when choosing the best USB flash drives. From as little as 8GB to a crazy 2TB, flash drives exist in a broad spectrum of sizes. Your needs will determine the proper size. A 32GB drive would be sufficient for casual use, including document or small media file storage. Choose a USB flash drive with at least 128GB or more for extra storage if you manage bigger files, including movies, music, or software.

Transfer Speed

Transfer speed is equally crucial as capacity when deciding on the best USB flash drives. Though they have slower transfer speeds—roughly 60MB/s— USB 2.0 drives are sometimes more reasonably priced. With rates of up to 600MB/s, USB 3.0 or USB 3.1 devices provide a better experience for those handling bigger files, drastically lowering the data transfer times.

Durability

If you're usually on the go, durability becomes essential. Many of the top USB flash drives are made to resist regular wear and tear. Search for models with waterproof, shock-resistant, or metal enclosures to guarantee your drive lasts and protects your data even under demanding situations. A vigorous drive might save lives when shipping delicate data.

Finding the Right USB Flash Drive for You

Given so many choices, choosing the best USB flash drives calls for careful thought. The flash drive's size, speed, and durability should fit your needs. For instance, a high-capacity disc with faster transfer speeds will save time and aggravation if you regularly handle big files like movies or programs. Conversely, if you primarily use it for papers and small media, a mid-range choice with reasonable speed and storage will probably be more than sufficient.

Searching for other elements meant to improve your experience is also advisable. For example, some drives have physical features that shield the USB port from damage, while others have software enabling simple data backups. The best USB flash drives have helpful capabilities that make them more handy than only storage ones.

Conclusion

Purchasing from a reputed supplier is vital when you are in the market for dependable, high-performance USB flash drives. Optical Media Manufacturing Inc. is a reliable name for many consumers, providing some of the best USB flash drives. Whether your want is for something robust or high-speed, Optical Media Manufacturing Inc. offers quality goods meant to fit your needs. They are the top choice for USB flash drives, and their dedication to excellence guarantees your data is safe, secure, and readily available.

[chipjrwibignaturals]

im like if a guy could store their entire functioning memory in a usb stick

[lasclchain]

Best encryption software for usb memory stick

Best encryption software for usb memory stick how to#

Best encryption software for usb memory stick portable#

Best encryption software for usb memory stick software#

Best encryption software for usb memory stick how to#

In this segment I’ll show you step-by-step how to encrypt your external drive. With it, you won’t have to bother about viruses and worms that can.

Best encryption software for usb memory stick software#

But not everyone is able to understand how to use this technology properly. Ways to Encrypt Your External Hard Drive or USB. This is one of the best USB security software on the internet. Open Source means the availability of complicated technology to everyone.

Best encryption software for usb memory stick portable#

Well, SecurStick is a portable encryption utility, so it doesn’t require an administrator to run the app on your workstation. Unfortunatelly, the availability of some good open-source products gave birth to 50-100 of clones. It is another best software that provides 256-bit AES encryption to protect the data stored on the USB drive or another removable device. Avoid clones of popular on-the-fly encryption open-source encryption products. Many-many bits in the encryption algorithm does not mean the superiour security of this algorithm.įor example: Diamond2-2048 bit is not secure than AES-128 bit. Examples of good encryption algorithms: AES (Rijndael), Blowfish, Serpent and etc. Why? Because old encryption algorithms were examined by thousands of cryptographists and even by whole specialized institutions for many years. Avoid encryption software advertising own super-puper-strong encryption algorithm.Īctually, only old known encryption algorithms are really secure. Only real encryption can guarantee the real security. Actually, your confidential information is absolutely insecure! And believe us - it is very easy to recover all your "encrypted" & hidden files for real curious person. Such kind of software just hides files from the underlying file system. The speed of read/write operations on USB flash drives does not allow to encrypt several GBs of data in 2-3 seconds. Gigabytes of data in several seconds on usual usb memory stick? Khm. Your confidential financial documents are absolutely secure. Just because you have antivirus software installed on your PC doesnt mean a zero-day Trojan cant steal your personal data. Some companies producing encryption software write something like: "Our product has many patent-pending security layers and can encrypt several gigabytes of data on USB Flash Drive in 3-5 seconds. We have been developing security products for last 12 years and we would like to give you a few advices how to choose best encryption software. In nowdays the market of security products is overloaded by more than 80 different desktop applications for Windows (r) platform and it is very complex task for average user to choose a really good security product. Category: Encryption Tools Developer: USB Security - Download - Buy: 30. Best Encryption Software Best Encryption Software - How to choose? password protect external hard drive software lock private documents on usb stick encryption security area - idoo usb encryption software, creat password protect external hard drive.

[magz]

hi magz, you seem to know a lot about technology. is there any good free anti-virus software you would recommend for the average person to use? no worries if not. thank you

If on Windows 10 - 11 For personal computer (not enterprise n servers) ...

Average Windows user should use Windows Defender and Windows Security (default built-in), turn on setting. update every so- so often. and let run checks every once while.

As Windows default currently better for Personal, than most anti-virus, unlike decade ago - where windows defender was subpar n malwarebites free was best-ish for personal. have change.

most important part actually everything else beside anti-virus !

so follow other digital privacy + safety guides have recommend for other parts. especially for browser n downloads, as that how most malware come thru. (some other reccs should be in magz pinned post, some need update info tho) example:

use adblockers, most recc ublock origin. not adblock plus free version, as those allow ads by companies that pay them. -

Use mullvad browser even if not have VPN, for incognito. -

For firefox users, check "Arkenfox - firefox hardening wiki" especially 'extensions' section (especially especially ublock origin part of 'extensions') - but would not recc average person use arkenfox as-is, just check some infos n change browser few settings that are ok with change. Only use arkenfox.js if really really prefer privacy security more than... anything (not most people). -

n if are worry of security n malware more - use virtual machines on computer or tailsOS on USB stick, whenever do risky stuff. for most virus risk, won't memory of what do, n not infect whole PC. -

edit: oh yah @instantmessage remind. VirusTotal exist for scan malware links, files, n sus stuff. n can be use with browser. (people also use those for send queries on if something for real a virus, on reddit.)

Other operating systems? other time.

[lautakwah]

hey ling, hope ur doing well and was wondering if i could ask some advice - totally ok if no but. im currently trying to screen record a cdrama right now so i can rewatch it later w/o paying, but i only recorded one episode and it's taken up all my icould and google drive storage 😭 i was wondering if u knew anything i could do, since i feel like r educated in the ways of 🏴‍☠️ 😭

screenrecording is the least efficient way of doing it i think :( ive never tried to do it for more than maybe a few minutes-long clips (most are around 30-40 seconds!), and doing it bloats your memory while also being worse quality. now the last thing may not be a huge deal (i personally dont mind if sth is 4k or 480/720p, esp since older films and dramas simply are harder to find in full hd), but storage efficiency is what you're here for so!!

delete things (files, programs, games, etc) you don't use (anymore), as that probably already opens up a ton of space. there are programs that can help you with looking up which files and shit you use/open the least.

when pirating, ofc use a trusted site and client but also check which files are the smallest and just get that one (unless youre a gifmaker or a real stickler for hd, 720p will suffice imo). tv series in my experience run about 20-30gb if theyre 1080, so even smaller if it's not as hd! google drive only gives 15gb but i think if you compress it into a zip file it miiiiiight fit? if not you can just split it between gdrive and your icloud :)!

an alternatuve option would be to find a streaming wrbsite that had the series but not paywalled, it's less work but the downside is that you can't access this offline (the main reason i like owning (digital) copies)

last but not least, and unfortunately this is the best way to have enough storage: invest in an external hard disk. if you're planning on having more tv series (and perhaps movies) on ur pc/laptop, the best and easiest way to make sure you (almost) never run out of storage is to just... buy more! i splurged on a 5tb external hard disk with bday-christmas money but obviously even having a 256gb/512gb one will be enough if you're not obsessed with putting entire filmographies on there like me djfngmv even getting a bunch of 32/64/128gb usb sticks will prob help out, and while it absolutely is an investment, if you're already paying for a subscription this is a surefire way to make sure you get your money's worth in case they take it off the platform or whatever (looking at how guardian got the boot from literally every streaming platform including yt 😭😭😭)

anyway i hope this helps!! :3

[dragoneyes618]

“From the river to the sea…”

Let’s talk about such a scenario in which Israel is erased.

7:00 a.m.: You wake up and try to unlock your iPhone to read email, but it won’t unlock.

Why? Because Face ID is Israeli tech. It was invented by PrimeSense, and acquired by Apple.

7:30 a.m.: Before heading to work, you go into your garden to make sure your grass is being watered.

Nope, can’t use drip irrigation. That’s an Israeli invention.

8:00 a.m.: You get into your car and try to turn on Waze so you can know where there is traffic.

It won’t open because Waze is Israeli.

8:30 a.m.: On the way to work, you almost lose control of your car because it didn’t notify you that you were swerving out of your lane.

That’s because Mobileye is based in Jerusalem.

9:00 a.m.: “Fine,” you say to yourself, “I don’t need Waze or Mobileye anyway. Soon my car will be autonomous.”

Nope. Innoviz is Israeli.

9:30 a.m.: You get to work and get ready to have your first meeting on Microsoft Teams. It won’t work.

All the AI on Teams? Built in Herzliya.

10:00 a.m.: You try to use your USB thumb drive on your computer. No go.

Thumb drives (a.k.a. flash drives or memory sticks) were invented by Dov Moran at Msystems, and acquired by SanDisk.

11:00 a.m.: You need to access some classified information but it’s behind a firewall. No way around it.

Firewall technology? Invented in Israel.

12:00 p.m.: You look out your office window and the sky is so beautiful, you want to take a photo.

Nope. Smartphone dual lens technology was invented by Israeli company Corephotonics.

1:00 p.m.: You have a lot of work to do. You fire up your PC but it won’t boot up.

Is it running on an Intel processor? Oh, yeah, that was designed in Israel.

2:00 p.m.: You’re getting really frustrated. Nothing is working! So you turn to Google, but even that won’t work.

Google builds many of its products in Tel Aviv.

3:00 p.m.: You decide to FaceTime your wife to vent your frustrations. Why won’t it work?!

Because voice over IP was invented in Israel.

3:30 p.m.: You’re really losing patience, so you go to your favorite instant messenger program to speak to a friend.

Nope, instant messaging was invented in Israel.

4:00 p.m.: You give up and decide to focus on work exclusively – you need to build a website.

Sorry, Wix is Israeli. You can’t use it.

5:00 p.m.: You get a call from your doctor. He wants you to come in because he saw something troubling in your last check-up. He wants to use the PillCam.

You have to inform him that’s a no-go. That’s Israeli tech.

6:00 p.m.: Since your car is unreliable, you decide to take public transportation. But your Moovit app won’t load for some reason.

It’s Israeli.

6:30 p.m.: You decide to do some shopping for a new car because it’s time to go electric.

Sorry. Better Place CEO Shai Agassi pioneered the infrastructure for electric cars in 2012.

7:00 p.m.: You get a call with bad news – your relative was recently diagnosed with cancer. He needs your help finding the best treatment.

Unfortunately, you can’t help him because many of the leading cancer treatments were developed in Israel by companies like Novocure and Vascular Biogenics.

8:00 p.m.: You’ve had a hard day and just want to chill out in front of your social media feeds. But none of your feeds will load.

Meta, parent company of Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp, has many offices in Israel.

9:00 p.m.: Time for a late dinner. You want to prepare alternative meats or dairy products.

Your supermarket doesn’t sell them, however, because Redefine Meat and Remilk are Israeli startups.

10:30 p.m.: You decide to read your book, but you can’t find your glasses anywhere.

That’s because you bought them on GlassesUSA, an Israeli company.

11:00 p.m.: Your last resort: Watch some TV. Wait – your Samsung TV won’t turn on!

Samsung has many offices in Israel, including Samsung Next, a fund that invests in tech.

You go to sleep and hope tomorrow will be a better day.

Here, try this new rhyme instead: “From the river to the sea, if Israel is gone, what will be with me?!”

[seancekitsch]

Hi could I possibly request a Richie kirsch X reader where the reader finds out he's ghostface and doesn't know how to feel about it at first but ends up warming up to the idea and actually ends up finding it kinda sexy.

It can be your choice if you want to make it nsfw or not 😄

I could talk him out of it, you once thought while sorting through all of his self tapes and short films. 

I could call my friend that lives in Studio City and see if she knows of any early news on internships or…

Selfishly, you thought about it and never did it. Calling her would mean a chance of that internship not being a long shot, would mean Richie moving far away from here and from you. You don’t touch your phone at all while you re-organize his footage. 

I could call his dad, you also think, while downloading all of the completed scenes onto a usb stick. You’d had his dad’s number practically on speed dial since that incident at your twenty first birthday. The infamous night when your roommate had dragged you out to the first and only club you’d been to in your life, when Richie held your drink while you waited in the bathroom line, when he drank your drink assuming he could just by you another. Your drink, that someone along the way had roofied. 

His dad could help me stop this, you think, but again you don’t pick up your phone until you’re in your car to go to work picking out a spotify playlist for the ride. 

A pit grows in your stomach and doesn’t stop until the car reaches Woodsboro. You breathe deeply, eyes screwed shut and trying to pretend this isn’t happening.

“Hey,” Sam calls, reaching into the backseat to grab your knee, “We’ll be back in Modesto in no time.”

If only she knew. 

You smile, hoping the nervousness doesn’t show in your eyes as you look to Richie. Handsome Richie, whose hard drives you have all backed up in your bag and ready to go in case anything… you try not to think about it. You think only of your handsome friend who’s been here for you through it all and you’ll be here for him through this. 

“Do you remember that one we shot for a film project? The one where I had you finish off Ghostface with a home made spear? And then you suggested it should be the pool cue your character was using earlier in the footage?” Richie’s voice makes you jump in the hallway of the hospital. It’s late night and the lights are dim. It’s eerie, like Richie’s plan didn’t need to be a thing to make this a horror movie. 

“Yeah? What about it?” you scrunch your nose at him, genuinely unsure of why he’s bringing this up now. That was your favorite of the short films you'd made with him. He was the director as well as Ghostface, of course. You were the final girl. It was a little obvious, not your best work. Ghostface was the Final girl's boyfriend and she had to kill him but it was a memory held near and dear to your heart. It was when everything clicked and fell into place with Richie. Now that everything is real, now that you’re here, the apprehension you felt has started to dissolve. A mist around you and Richie disperses. You’re looking at him through fresh eyes even though he’s been your best friend since middle school theater. Richie has only looked more and more stressed, more tense here. 

“Thats when I knew about you. That’s how I knew you’d be the new final girl of my new franchise.”

He leaves it at that, and shortly after, there’s a few more dead bodies in the hospital.

It’s you that swipes Tara’s inhaler. It’s a brilliant idea, one that even Richie overlooked. He said he needed a reason to get them back to Amber’s house, and you made it happen. He thanked you and hugged you tighter than a friend should, but what blooms in you is not the butterflies and roses you expected, but bitter jade jealousy. You’ve wanted to be like this for so long; You actively daydream of having Richie wrap his arms around you just like this but you can't stop yourself from wanting to tear his head off because of the fact that Amber, his co-conspirator, will not stop looking at him. Anytime she looks at you she looks with the same disdain as she does for Sam. As if you're one and the same.

She has no idea you're helping her by helping Richie.

"It's you and me," Richie says, his injured arm being the one to wrap around you, "Its only us getting out of here. You're my muse."

Amber and all of her glares has no idea that he's planning on double crossing her for you. A certain pride swells in your chest at that. Nothings changed from before you came. Maybe an internship and a move can be in the cards for you...

"You and me," you echo, nodding and leaning into his embrace, "And you're my director."

You're holding your side as you talk to the police in the ambulance, but you can barely focus on anything past keeping your story straight. Not when Richie lies ten feet away in a stretcher, throat torn open and staring only at you. Your eyes meet and everything clicks into place. The way you found it sexy when he chased you up the stairs with a knife in his hand, the way he jeered at Sam for thinking that she was safe with him, the way he so easily pinned everything on the dead. Sam might have gotten a stab on you, but you had gotten the upper hand.

Hell, he might even be staring at Sam's blood matted into your hair.

But then your eyes meet and it's like they make it feel in the movies. It feels like in When Harry met Sally when they realize they were meant to be, that all these years of friendship melted into more.

"She twisted the knife, officer," not a lie, until you open your mouth again "She called me a fool for walking into a horror movie."

But with Ritchie's weak attempt at a smile being thrown in your direction, its more like you walked into a rom-com.

[space-station-collective]

How we experience shared memories,

because I find it interesting.

We've noticed a slight change recently, in the way our shared memories present internally. Whether it actually changed, or we only just became aware of it, is debatable.

For some context: We technically share all memories. As far as we're aware, all memories are either accessible to everyone or no-one. We also have very little innerworld awareness or memory when not fronting.

Many of our memories are not what we would call immediately accessible, mostly things that happen while one person is fronting, remembered by another. If they choose to access the memory, they can, but they don't necessarily inherently have that knowledge without doing so.

The way this happens is, when one makes the choice to access a memory, an object that I can best describe as a USB stick appears in front of them. It's a little more vague than that, but it's hard to explain internal workings with external language rather than concepts. They then have to insert the USB-like object into our "dashboard" (the long desk at our front, we'll explain that another time) and then they will have that memory.

We aren't entirely sure when this started happening, we just know that that's how it presents now. I'm curious if any other systems have similar experiences with how their memories work/are accessed, and if it presents in a similar fashion (the USBs)?

-Wil (he/him)

[lee-sol]

" look, i know i've been real, like... crabby, i guess, an' a huge pain in the ass t' deal with the last few weeks— "ㅤnot the best way to open things up, even with a present held in their hands, but they've never been anything short of blunt and they're trying to get better about communication. for sol, at least.ㅤ" —but i obviously wasn't gonna not do somethin' for you, so... here. "

passing off the carefully wrapped gift, topped with a sparkly pink bow because they can never resist, byan keeps their gaze lowered. they can feel the sheepishness in their expression, and they can't handle looking sol in the eye while they're so strangely nervous. why are they even nervous? they've given him gifts before, it's not like this is anything new! it's got to be the holiday making them so ill at ease, but even that feels so stupid...

inside the soft blue wrapping paper lay a small bundle of gifts — a usb cup warmer sits on top, something he can use to keep his coffee warm while he's doing school work at home. beside it, a hand painted mug, coloured in all the shades of a sunset with the silhouettes of the both of them seated on a rooftop, looking at one another, the lights of the city glowing in the distance. it's meant to be reminiscent of that night when they took him to their favourite hiding spot, their refuge from the world around them, and let him in farther than they ever had before. disgustingly sentimental, but it meant a lot to them, and they'd had to commit the event to memory through art. beneath that, there's a sweater in a shade of blue so deep that it's almost black, with all of his favourite constellations embroidered across the chest and arms in silver thread. and, to keep things a little more light-hearted, a small pair of glasses made to look similar to sol's own sit nestled at the very bottom as a final surprise.

" thought it'd be fun if you 'n jjijji could match. —if you can get her to sit still long enough t' put 'em on, anyway. "ㅤthe explanation comes with a quiet chuckle, and byan finally allows their gaze to lift to sol's face, a hopeful look in their eyes.ㅤ" if all else fails, momo'd look cute in 'em too. but, uh... yeah. i know it's not much, an' i'm not great at this, but... i hope you like it. 'cause otherwise, s'kinda embarrassing how much time i put into all of it. "

while the confession comes out of nowhere, it’s actually… nice to know that they’re aware. he understands where they’re coming from, and why they’ve been acting the way have been, but it’s still nice. what’s even more surprising, is the fact that they come with a gift. it is the season of giving, yes, and they’re already known for bringing him little gifts, but he didn’t except to get a gift and an apology.

when the gift is passed off to him, he stares at it for a moment, before carefully unwrapping the present, revealing what’s inside. the heater is the first thing he sees, and that alone gets him excited. the mug is next, the little details immediately stick out to him, as he carefully lifts it up to get a better look at each little detail. the scene it depicts is familiar to him, one he cherishes, because it’s when they let him in, trusted him enough to bring him to one of their sacred places. recalling the memory brings a certain warmth to his chest, and it’s paired with a smile on his face. he doesn't get to the shirt right away, he's taking in every little detail of the mug. and finally, he sets it and the warmer aside, excited to use soon. when he sees the sweater, he carefully picks it up, and once it’s out of the package, the constellations become more visible. the constellations are another detail he immediately recognizes, they’re the same constellations he can always point out whenever they’re visible enough. and lastly, the gift that really gets him smiling, the gift for jjiji. it’s cute, everything they’ve done for him.

they put so much detail into these gifts, remembering things he didn’t think were important. he’s almost overwhelmed with the emotions these bring, the fact that he feels so seen. he doesn’t think he can stop smiling, even when his throat gets tight, and the corner of his eyes start to burn.

“ thank you… ” he carefully sets the gifts down next to him, before pulling them into an embrace, and holding them close. even after his face is no longer visible to them, there’s still a smile on his face, cause if he stops smiling, he might actually start to tear up. “ i love all of it, every little detail you put in… it’s perfect. thank you… ” planting a kiss to the side of their head, he squeezes them just a bit harder. “ i love you…. ”

[moongothic]

You're talking aboyt Kuma made me thinking, is possible Vegapunk somehow move Kuma memory to that ancient robot(The one Luffy, Bonney, Vegapunk, and Jimbei found) as vessel? (Like FMA plot)

Bcs last time that's robot begin to active right after Bonney got her memory and before flashback.

The giant robot really is a big ol' mystery, don't really know how to comment on the robot itself

You're right though, like I hadn't even thought about this but. If Vegapunk was able to view and analyze Kuma's memories without actually touching the Memory Bubble, then it could be possible he could've created a copy of the memories. Like a recording of them on a USB stick or something

And if he was able to do that, then... arguably, maybe Vegapunk could install that memory copy somewhere? Be it any random Pacifista or the Giant Robot. Like as long as there's some kind of a computer "brain", like. Yeah you could probably install the memories there.

The question is, would that give the robot free will though? A soul, a mind that could feel things and analyze the memories and make their own decisions?

'Cause the memories are just information, not a soul of their own, right? Unless Oda writes it so that the memories do make up the soul?

Like it'd be kind of the reverse of S-Bear, who has a mind of his own (to some degree), a soul, but he's still just a clone of Kuma, not Kuma himself. He has his own soul, and none of Kuma's memories. (IDK if Kuma's memories could even be inserted into S-Bear but even if they could, that still wouldn't turn S-Bear into Kuma, just a slightly more accurate copy, wouldn't it)

IDK maybe it is still viable Kuma's Memories could still end up being placed into some kind of a vessel, it just raises interesting questions

Like if Vegapunk did managed to sneak in that circuit then maybe we could get Kuma back as he is, in his original body

Or maybe, if Kuma is able to push out kind of abstract concepts like pain and copy memories from people's bodies, could he maybe push out his actual soul? Could that soul then be placed into another vessel? Like a proper Alphonse Elric-kinda situation?

Maybe Vegapunk was able to copy Kuma's memories and could insert them into any of the vessel options we have (hell, maybe have them copied into ALL the Pacifistas); best case scenario, we end up with a clone of Kuma who has inherited his will. Without a (/the original) soul, it won't be The Same Kuma, but it will be A Kuma

There is the question of would bringing back Kuma or having someone (like S-Bear) inherit his will completely undermine the entire point of Kuma's flashback and sacrifice. Because there is an argument to be made that it could. We spent all these chapters getting to know this man, all the pain and suffering he went through his entire life, getting to understand why he did what he did and what he sacrificed. All this for a tragedy that then gets fixed with magic, as if nothing ever happened? I'm so torn here. Because on one hand, I would agree with the people who'd think Kuma coming back would be kind of lame, we've had more than enough fakeout deaths already. But on the other hand, I want Bonney and Kuma to reunite. I want them to have a happy ending together. I think we all do. And unlike past flashbacks where what's done is done and it can't be fixed anymore, the reason so many readers are holding onto hope Kuma could survive is because there MAY still be a chance it could be fixed. That maybe Luffy could save Bonney AND Kuma. Like there's a critical part of me that feels like Kuma should stay dead for the sake of the writing. And then there's my inner fan/reader who just wants a happy end. And I'm so torn.

I'm so sorry anon I went completely off the topic, I genuinely don't know what to make of the Giant Robot right now and have no opinions there, but man. There's actually an opportunity for some really interesting story telling here depending on how shit pans out.

[stellar-snz]

Some worldbuilding stuff lol

So… yeah, since one of my OCs is a robot girlie- I just wanted to explain how stuff works :3 Disclaimer that I don't really know much abt this kinda stuff, and this is just me trying to make sense of stuff and apply it to a non-human species.

A.) How do robots even sneeze? ✦ Wellp, there are various causes, really… but first it kinda depends on how their code works. Usually, bots' systems are programmed to be sturdy, but some creators want to give their bots personality and make them feel "human" so they give them "special weaknesses"

✦ They also have filters so if something (small) that shouldn't be in there is detected by their system, it immediately works to expel it. Their filters also have to be cleaned regularly since if too much dust/pollen accumulates there- they'll sneeze irregardless whether they have a weakness to dust and/or pollen. The bots that do have a weakness to it just have a harder time with it.

✦ Not really sure how I would write holdbacks into this, but I guess they keep their 'minds' off the urge to sneeze? Like they try to overwrite that function by occupying their 'brain' with something else. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't- but it will have to come out one way or another.

✦ Since robots don't really need to breathe, those hitches of breaths before sneezing is translated to like… too many functions needing to execute first before sneezing in the case of robots. Being present near an allergen makes their system go haywire.

B.) How do robots get sick? ✦ Robots can catch 'viruses' from infected USB ports. There are public charging stations for them to use or they can lend each other chargers. For every human affliction, there's a robot counterpart (example: "rhinovirus" is the virus that makes it susceptible for humans to catch colds, bots have "rhino.vir")

✦ Some bots are programmed with alert and strong antiviruses so they can easily detect if they got infected and their antivirus will chomp away at the malware. Others do not, so they can buy a small stick of code from the store with code that will get rid of the virus in their system. It's good for one use only, though

✦ They can also just get themselves upgraded, depending if they have enough memory.

✦ They also get sick if they overexert themselves too much. (example: waking up on Monday to a 82% charge, then sleeping with a low battery percentage, then waking up not fully charged or with an even lower percentage and repeating this process for a long time.)

✦ When they get sick, they overheat (fever) and their system slows down (fatigue)

✦ When sick, their battery refuses to charge, but they'll continue to overheat, so it's best to give them something to cool off first.

✦ Their equivalent to the hospital is "parts and services"

C.) Do they eat? ✦ Yepp, they eat. The food/drink they ingest gets broken down into energy and adds up to their battery. Most new models ingest human foods/drinks while older models stick to oil and bolts.

[opticalmediamanufacturinginc]

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[mirrorthoughts]

I just had to laugh very hard thanks to two time travel fics I read today/yesterday 😂

In the first one Stiles jumps pack to around 1985 (there was no year but i think it was about a decade before he was born), waking up completely naked, but a short while later he's got a bit of money and some clothes and he puts together an usb-stick full of important documents 😂

For the youn'uns out there: The first usb drive was created around 1996 and at that point you definitely weren't able to buy it in any stores yet. The first buyable usb drive appeard on the market in 2000, cost around $30 and had 'only' 128 MB of memory (that was a lot then, my dears).

And the same goes for the other story that tells me that when Peter was 18 (which would be vaguely 1995) and he's going off to college he keeps in contact with Stiles over Skype which... is again, almost a decade to early 😂 Skype wasn't a thing until 2003! (Just FYI Facebook started around the same time) And the first mobile phone able to actually do something like video telephony was only created in 2005.

I'm not going to admonish any fanfic writers who do want to keep what they know in their fics and I'm not going to call out the people who wrote those fics either, but... if it comes to technologic advancements of the "modern age", you might best at least ask a search engine or wikipedia to get a vague timeframe when something was created 😂 Technology has changed so fast even only in the last five to ten years, nevermind the last thirtie-forty.

But hey, thanks for the good laugh 😂😂😂

[blupengu]

All righty I’ve finished science brofist’s route and that means more rambling! (Seriously though everyone sees his name as that right?? How the hell else am I supposed to pronounce Scien Brofiise??? It sure as hell ain’t how they say it in Japanese! 😂) spoilers under the cut as usual

Hmm… overall while I liked it, I think I’ve been so thoroughly emotionally and mentally broken by Mathis and Lucas that Scien’s route seemed pretty… tame in comparison LOLOL 💀 or maybe I’m still on residual WTFs from Lucas and should’ve waited another day to let it settle oops

The pain meter from these first three to me is Lucas > Mathis > Scien

The ending was definitely still a big oof and a little yikes though 😬. But with how dubious the “science” is in this game, part of me was wondering why Scien couldn’t just make a clone from Ceres’s body and then stick the memories he had into her after? Like people save memory backups of themselves prior to dying so why couldn’t he have saved her memories on whatever constitutes a USB stick in this world lmao

The science in this game in general honestly I just… can’t think about too deeply or it all falls apart LOL, being in like the medieval ages where you still gotta hand wash clothes but then suddenly having shit like electric cars, headset phones, touch-holograms, and perfect cloning with memories but not emotions is such whiplash 😂

The final CG was super pretty though, oof the expression on his face, my poor babygirl 😩 but… why are all the kiss CGs… not super great LOL, is the artist bad at drawing kisses? Because so far they’ve all looked a little uhhhh in each route? 😬😂

I very much appreciate the fact though that Scien’s best CGs are hands down the ones where he’s posing like a lil slut lmaooo, the jigsaw puzzle one?? Bitch he’s practically twirling his hair!! 😂

And his interactions with Ceres were very cute, especially the whole sandwich thing! But when she was like yay I’m so happy I’ve been promoted from maid to a sandwich dispenser! I was like girl… are you okay…?? Well clearly not but still 😂 like dang, never been happier getting told by a man to make me a sandwich lmaooo

Anyways! Back to the route in general - the whole thing of him being an oh no evil science man was so… meh to me? Maybe because I work in the sciences so I have a different view but like, I was perfectly fine with him experimenting on criminals? That’s pretty much what clinical trials are in the real world?? Of course you need to test shit on a few people before giving stuff out to the the general populace??? Why are people upset at this????

It was nice learning a bit more about Salome (though tbh I thought her backstory and relationship to scien would be… more significant LOL). And kinda weird that they left her mumbling when they were in hiding as “…” instead of maybe just quickly forcing the text to go through, because my limited amount of Japanese from anime let me understand the gist of what she was saying and oh. Gives a bit of a different vibe knowing what she said vs it having to be explained

Also, my face when they just decapitated Adolphe but then Ceres TOOK HIS HEAD WITH HER? HONEY NO, GIRL PUT IT BACK HE’S DRIPPING

FUCK THE ROYAL FAMILY, ALL MY HOMIES HATE THE ROYAL FAMILY 🔫🔫 The reservoirs or repertoires or whatever the hell they’re called can eat my ass and die 😂

The way I hollered when Lucas went in and shanked their asses, MY MAN!! … every other time he showed up though was a big aw shit Lucas we’re not in your route anymore go away please!! You’re causing the despair end nooo!!! 😂 very conflicting emotions when I see him now lmao

Same with when I see Jean… like you’re still so pretty and I love you but uhhh, hey Mathis maybe come over this way instead 😬

Side note, kinda sad we didn’t get to see Ankou in the second half of the route…

And finally - I love you Dahut, I was so worried you’d be evil but oh, thank god we have someone that’s just like a good friendly person (I think), you are so pure I love you please show up in every route to ease my fears (Hugo doesn’t count because I’ve still got my eye on him LOL)

Aight I think that’s it! In summary, Scien is this meme:

Literally just look at him

I wish I looked this sexy doing a jigsaw puzzle 😂

[ironcowboypirate]

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[kiruuuuu]

Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 20🥃

Hey, so, uh... remember Day 8💋 and Day 9🍑? The Smoke/Mute PWP? Because I sure did. And I wrote a sequel, I just couldn't leave it at that and neither could they :) This is just the first part, second and last part and Smoke coming tomorrow! (Smoke/Mute, Rating E, explicit + emotional hurt, ~5.4k words)

(Also, I feel like I should tag you, @cerosin, because I "forgot" to mention there was a sequel back when I sent you the first fic - so, surprise? 😁)

.

Their eyes meet right after Smoke finds his footing following a dramatic combat roll to escape the exploding building. He’s carrying the bit of intel they so desperately need in form of a USB stick, and Sledge is elated when he hands it over – the mission was a success, there were no casualties on their side and Mute is staring at him like a hungry wolf at its prey. Oh yeah, they’re gonna do this.

“We’ll analyse this immediately”, Sledge tells them, ignorant of the sparks flying between his two friends, the raw animal magnetism, “are you coming with us?”

“You go ahead”, mutters Mute, not taking his dark eyes off of Smoke. “And don’t wait up.”

A minute later, Smoke’s back smashes against the remnants of a wall caught in the explosion, a wild beast tearing at his clothes and trying to suffocate him. Mute is ravenous, urgency guiding his movements as he undresses his lover and the same impatience makes them skip any foreplay: Smoke is ready, already open and wet and bends over at the insistent shove, pressing his cheek against debris and moaning into the dust cloud surrounding them when Mute pushes inside, deep and even deeper, stretching Smoke to his limit.

The feeling is wonderful and though they usually take their time, Smoke relishes this just as much, the hard thrusts, the heady pleasure, the sensation of warm palms keeping him in place. He could do this for hours, for as long as Mute wants to, and he knows if he keeps this up until his legs give in and then comes, it’ll be the sweetest -

His phone is ringing.

That’s what that sound is, piercing through the residual smoke and the victorious rush following the mission and the ecstasy of sleeping with the man he loves, sobering him up unpleasantly. Dragging him back to reality.

Right.

Smoke opens his eyes to the sight of his bedroom illuminated in mood lighting, wondering why he even bothered. He took a long bath, lit a scented candle (cinnamon is his favourite) and took his time doing some ‘self care’ but if he gets rudely interrupted like this, it’ll all be for nothing. He’s out of it now, the memory of a scene which never happened fading fast and with it the euphoria, leaving behind an uncomfortable embarrassment burning low in his gut. He knows what he’s doing is messed up. Isn’t it enough that he faces the shame afterwards, now he’s also gotta repent during?

When the song keeps playing for a while longer, he figures it’s urgent enough that he might as well take it. The night is ruined, it can’t get much worse, so he’s got nothing to lose. He stretches to reach his phone and the toy inside him shifts, pressing against all the right spots so he lets out a quiet whimper. Man, what a shame – he had it all figured out, the scene was so realistic and could’ve been so, so good. He should keep it in mind for next time. Maybe.

Unless he won’t be able to fend off the epiphany anymore that wanking to one of his co-workers who clearly rejected him is a recipe for unhappiness at best and disaster at worst.

“Hey mate”, Bandit’s voice booms out of the speaker once Smoke picks up the call. He sounds at the very least tipsy, if not wholly intoxicated. “You busy?”

Smoke glances at his flagging boner. “Not anymore. What’s up?”

“Can you come get me? I came by bike but… nuh uh. Too drunk. I’ll save some of the whisky for you.”

How is there nobody else for him to call? To be fair, Blitz is out of the country and Jäger drives like he flies helicopters, which is to say like a madman, and IQ won’t take any of his bollocks anymore, so alright. Yeah, maybe Smoke is the only one he can call. “I guess. Ask how expensive the bottle was though, I don’t drink anything below 30 quid.”

“Snob. I’ll send you a Google maps thing. Bye, love you!”

And with that, he’s gone. Smoke heaves a sigh and winces as he pulls the phallic object out of himself, feeling much too empty as a result. Fitting, really.

Only throwing on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants which need to go in the wash anyway, he grabs his phone and keys and taps the location Bandit sent him to start the navigation. Maybe not all is lost and he can finish what he started upon his return, but he’s not hopeful – a pissed Bandit is a hilarious Bandit and though he’ll leave Smoke in a better mood than before, he certainly won’t rekindle his libido.

Distracted with thoughts about what to do with the rest of the night, he drives through familiar streets, turning familiar corners until everything becomes a little too familiar. About one turn away from his destination is when it finally hits him.

He’s heading directly to Mute’s flat.

The dread settles at the bottom of his stomach like a too-heavy dinner, poisoning his mind with a myriad of painful memories and even more painful possible outcomes to this encounter, and all of it is making Smoke’s fingers shake. He finds a parking space opposite the building yet is unable to exit his car, not when he might have to face him, not with his heart pounding like this.

You still work together, he reminds himself sternly, you see each other almost every day. This won’t be any different. You go up there and tell him you’re picking up Dom, and that’s that. No more interaction necessary. He won’t make it awkward if you won’t.

But what if Mute just shuts the door when he sees him?

What if he turns and leaves, refusing to speak to him altogether?

What if Mute yells at him to leave him alone, that he doesn’t want him and never wanted him and Smoke is a fucking creep and how dare he do what he did and it was the worst moment of Mute’s life he’s never felt so violated and he keeps having nightmares, jumping whenever anyone touches him and -

Good heavens.

Smoke rubs his temples and tries to get the spiral under control before he has a full blown anxiety attack opposite Mute’s house. None of the above will happen. The end result is usually somewhere between the worst and the best thing that could happen (and good God, Smoke can’t even imagine the best thing happening because it’s so agonising to entertain the idea), so it’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

Mute is fine.

Maybe he won’t even answer the door. Yeah, that’s a heartening thought – maybe Bandit is already dressed and waiting for him, said his goodbyes and Smoke won’t have to look at Mute for even just a second and he’ll drive Bandit home and then he’ll spend the rest of the evening sobbing into his pillow and whoops, there he goes, back to the dark place. That was fast.

Mute just won’t answer, because that’s the easiest option, and Smoke will be fine. He’s only been here a couple of times anyway, once to pick up the TV Ela wanted and Mute didn’t need anymore, once for Mute’s birthday. Once when Mute needed help carrying some decommissioned equipment home and Smoke stayed much longer than planned because they played around with it instead of unpacking properly and then Mute ordered food for them and they watched the beginning of a horrendous horror film while eating and then ended up watching the whole thing, and Smoke went home much too late that evening but felt like he was floating and looked at Mute differently from then -

Deep breaths.

Dom must be getting impatient. He should go.

The sound of him slamming his own car door shut startles him, as if he needed a reminder about his current mental state. He crosses the street, practising smooth one-liners with which to greet Bandit to convince him absolutely everything is fine, and breezily jogs up the stairs to the first floor. Bandit will answer, maybe Smoke will stick his head in to greet some of the others (because he heard party noises on the phone, so there’s clearly something going on, and no he isn’t obsessing about why he wasn’t invited), and then they’ll leave and it will all be alright. Maybe Mute will be in the bathroom. Or he’s too busy doing whatever to pay any attention to him.

Smoke knocks with a fake air of confidence, putting on a smile and straightening his clothes.

Mute opens the door.

He looks fucking gorgeous.

And Smoke feels his smile flicker.

.

How long has it been? How long since the fateful encounter which drove them apart?

When he tries to, he can recall every second of it, every noise, every small gesture, every gaze between them. These days, he doesn’t try anymore and yet the memories keep flooding his mind at the most inopportune moment – in the presence of others, in public, during a conversation, doesn’t matter, he’ll be minding his own business and spot an advertisement showing a bit of skin and bam he’s back with Mute’s cock down his throat trying desperately not to cum.

And Mute just -

Instead of turning him down, he simply stopped turning up.

Fucking coward.

Like Smoke can’t guess what’s going on when people start acting odd around him, side-eyeing him and asking in private whether there’s something wrong between him and his former best friend. Like he doesn’t know Mute flees as soon as he shows up, disappears around a corner, forgot about a meeting, needs to go right this moment. Like Mute isn’t telegraphing it loud and clear by not telegraphing anything, by ignoring texts, by forcing conversation when they have to, by quietly requesting to be assigned to a different team.

And that one stung. The other events hurt, sure, left a low ache where Smoke’s heart used to be, but knowing the very person he trusted so much, adored so much, loved so much – that this man couldn’t stand sharing any kind of space with Smoke? It left a mark. Because it might mean one of them has to leave Rainbow, and then they won’t see each other at all anymore, and Smoke knows how much being a part of the team meant to the both of them. How proud they are to have made it.

But what smoulders beneath it all is blinding, deafening, muting shame.

Because Smoke knows he overstepped a line. Took advantage of Mute’s vulnerability. Acted selfishly. No assurance of consent was going to be enough, not when the other man was in such a state, and instead of showing compassion and responsibility, Smoke took what he wanted and deluded himself into thinking it was mutual.

Well. Mute’s behaviour made it abundantly clear that the opposite was true.

He’s had terrible nights imagining Mute lie awake as well, remembering being touched against his will and wondering how to go on with his life.

And despite all this, despite any leftover rationality in Smoke screaming at him to apologise, to attempt to make amends, to talk it through with somebody, despite it all he can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop seeing Mute that way, flushed and sweaty and insatiable. He chooses him to star in his fantasies. Which makes the whole situation so much worse.

.

So yes, when Smoke stares at the object of his most shameful desires, he’s utterly tongue-tied – he won’t be able to express any of his inner turmoil in words nor will Mute be willing to hear it, so it’s best to just … ignore him. Acknowledge him with a non-committal greeting, enter his flat, grab Bandit, drag him outside and cry himself to sleep later, aaand he’s back to feeling sorry for himself. Because his best friend abandoned him. After he committed a heinous breach of trust.

This is not the most productive use of his time.

They’re still staring at each other, unmoving, seconds later. Mute has certainly been partying, his cheeks are reddened and his ears are following suit, the comfortable dark grey t-shirt looks rumpled and he’s barefoot. His expression is unreadable in the low light. He’s not letting go of the door.

“I’m here to pick up Dom”, Smoke eventually explains himself, to which Mute steps aside to let him in. This probably means he won’t fetch the German by himself, so Smoke takes it as an invitation to explore the flat – he passes the kitchen where glasses are piled up, and steps into an empty living room. It’s not a large apartment but Mute valued comfort over style and has crammed enough sofas and armchairs in that it easily houses a medium-sized get-together. Except all signs point to the very same having finished already: there’s no one here.

“He left with Seamus”, Mute speaks up behind him and his voice makes it suddenly apparent that he’s been drinking too, and not a small amount. He’s swaying slightly, blinking often, his tongue seems heavy. “Maestro picked them up. A few minutes ago.”

Well, that explains it. Smoke huffs in annoyance and is keenly aware of Mute blocking the only exit – rather, he’s standing in the doorway, looking as lost as Smoke feels. This is unbearably awkward. He feels like an absolute bellend.

“I think he set something aside for you. There’s a bottle in the kitchen.”

Oh, a win-win: Smoke won’t have to listen to Bandit’s drunken gibberish yet reaps the reward anyway. Focusing very hard on not paying Mute too much attention, he squeezes past him (and good god, the one half-shared breath has his heart skip a beat) to get to the dimly-lit neighbouring room, wondering when it became normal for the people around him to host a party without extending an invitation. It hasn’t happened often, but it has, though he remembers attending a few events with Mute conspicuously missing. Maybe they didn’t want to pick sides and chose each of them equally. What a cop-out.

His scalp is prickling and he realises how tense he is just from being in Mute’s private space. He should leave as soon as possible, though it’s likely the damage has been done; alcohol is a downer and painful memories tend to exacerbate a bad mood (for which Smoke is responsible, and he knows it). Picturing Mute fighting off demons on his own at night makes his heart ache, so he might have to say something. Advise against loneliness.

And he would know.

The bottle is labelled Tobermory, a brand with which he’s not familiar, and more than half empty. He’ll just grab it and leave, drive home and do the very thing he’s about to tell Mute not to do: drink alone. Maybe. Whatever lifts this crushing weight from his chest.

As he turns around, Mute is behind him again, staring with an uncomfortable intensity – does he feel so unsafe that he has to follow Smoke around his flat? Has it gotten that bad? His arms hang uselessly by his sides, fingertips fiddling with a loose thread sticking out of his jeans. He looks like he wants to say something.

And dear lord, there is so much at the tip of Smoke’s tongue. Above all, an apology, followed by a despairing plea to go back to a semblance of what they were, of needing to be a part of this beautiful young genius’ life; he’d beg for forgiveness if it meant Mute would be able to look at him again, exchange more than tactical communication during missions, not react with sudden panic when he tries to talk to him anymore. He knows he’s not owed any of it, far from it, but it doesn’t stop the excruciating longing inside him. To see him smile again. To just sit next to him in peace.

“James”, says Mute, calmly, with next to no slurring. And hearing his name uttered from this mouth almost causes him to tear up.

This is not the moment. Mute is tipsy at best, vulnerable and unguarded, and Smoke will not take advantage of him again. They can talk another time. Even then, worry and concern take over, take control of his tongue and voice some of his thoughts. “You shouldn’t be alone today”, he mutters. “Don’t spend the night by yourself.”

Mute’s expression shifts, he briefly looks taken aback and Smoke wants to smack himself – as soon as the words pass his lips, he realises how they must come across. Why does he keep making everything worse, always? As he scrambles to come up with an appropriate explanation, Mute takes a step forward. He didn’t take it the wrong way, did he? Then again, if Smoke ends up being smashed against the counter for his dumb mouth, he’d deserve it. And hey, if it makes Mute feel better, he’d gladly -

He’s really close now.

Close enough for Smoke to smell him and this is bad. Lowering his gaze does nothing to help, it gets caught on slightly parted lips, on the strong jawline, the exposed neck. The bit of collarbone peeking out. On the heartbeat visible through his shirt. Why is it so fast? Is he -

When Mute leans down, time stops. The world ceases to be. And then Mute kisses him. Just a bit, briefly, no more than a second, but their lips touch and Mute’s breath is on his skin and then it’s over again.

Smoke stares at him, thunderstruck. He – what just happened. Why did he – is this for real.

What even is going on.

Mute does it again, longer this time and Smoke’s body is catching up faster than his mind because he feels his still-loose hole twitch in completely inappropriate anticipation, and his dick is taking an interest in this sudden turn of events as well, and he wishes he could just shut off certain bodily functions. Because this isn’t right, he needs to tell Mute no instead of returning this heavenly, sweet kiss, needs to extract himself from this situation entirely instead of tilting his head like so, needs to stop this … fluttering sensation. Mute smells heavenly, his lips are as soft as ever, gently insistent. It feels so good. Better than any memory or fantasy.

???, goes his brain, not even able to form coherent thoughts as his former friend interrupts the slow kisses to lean back and look down at him with a mix of curiosity and something tantalising, something dark. This is wrong. They can’t do this, he can’t do this, not without clearing the air first, having a proper sit down and talk. Yeah. He should tell him. He needs to tell him they have to cease right this instance. He plucks up the courage to open his mouth and say something, and what comes out is a breathy, pleading, pitiful: “… babe.”

Mute grabs him by the shirt and slams him against the kitchen counter – fulfilling Smoke’s prophecy in a very different way – before crushing their mouths together once more, stifling the embarrassing moan to escape Smoke’s throat at the gesture. He’s half hard now, wrapping his arms around Mute’s neck and basking in his body heat, their proximity. Despite having no idea what got into Mute, his first instinct is to set aside all doubts and enjoy the moment for as long as it lasts.

Which is a terrible notion. It’s what destroyed Mute’s trust in the first place. But how, how is he meant to refuse this? How could he ever?

When it might be the reconciliation he’s been yearning for?

Mute’s tongue is licking any sense out of him, leaving him reeling with its determination to coax out more and more noises, and the delicious way their bodies slot together like they were made for it rapidly fogs up his brain. Heat pools in his crotch, both front and back and he sharply regrets not finishing before driving here – the wanton need merely slept instead of being sated and now awakens with renewed hunger, tugging on his sinews to get him closer to Mute, even closer, press their lower halves together with an undignified moan followed by an ardent echo when his own half-hard shaft meets another.

Fucking hell, Mute is really into this.

Two cool hands slip under Smoke’s shirt and one rests on his lower back, holding him in place if not forcing them even closer, while another creeps up his side, drawing small ticklish circles with its thumb before digging in between his ribs, following the movement of his laboured breaths, rising whenever his ribcage expands. He can’t think straight, is rapidly turning into a hot mess especially when Mute’s hips grind against his own, forcing him to acknowledge the entire length of Mute’s cock, every inch tangible and coaxing out memories. Inconvenient memories. Memories of being bent over a crate and coming undone, coming untouched, of -

A sharp jolt of pleasure has him snap his lower half forward without meaning to: the long fingers exploring his chest have found one of his nipples and started caressing it gently, brushing over it with a fingertip, pinching it slightly. Smoke interrupts their mind-numbing snogging to hiss a quiet fuck, repeats it when Mute continues his ministrations and adds a low moan at wet lips sucking on the side of his neck. He feels both malleable and utterly trapped: Mute’s body is basically wrapped around him and now he’s moulding Smoke however he wants to, he’s shoved a leg between Smoke’s and starts pressing against his crotch, lifting him slightly while bending his upper half backwards to allow for better access to his neck and jaw.

It feels fucking amazing. It shouldn’t, but it does. Smoke is reminded of being at Mute’s mercy and relishes the memory. He’s more than ready to give himself up once more.

“Do you like this?”, Mute mutters, slurred voice a low rumble over Smoke’s skin as he keeps stroking over his nipples with varying intensity, brushing lightly before pinching. “Does it feel good?”

Jesus Christ, now that the lad is (mostly) of sound mind and not preoccupied with getting himself off as fast as possible, it turns out he’s a tease. Smoke is struggling to stay upright as it is, there’s no chance he’ll be able to engage in any kind of conversation or voice his preferences when he can groan in pleasure and hump Mute’s leg instead. His hole is pulsing by now, hungrily clenching around nothing and no doubt weeping for Mute’s girth, and still there’s a tiny voice at the back of his mind asking him whether he really wants this. Whether he’s ready to trade these sensations for a friendship. Again.

“Babe”, he says, and he genuinely wants to demand they stop. He does. He really, really does. If Mute doesn’t listen, there won’t be anything he can do, Smoke’s body is too charged, too sensitive not to go along, but chances are good Mute will listen. If Smoke earnestly asks him to stop, he will. There’s no doubt.

Except, well, before he can utter anything else, Mute kisses him again and these aren’t ‘I hate you but I’m a horny drunk so let’s get it on’ kisses. They’re not ‘I just want sex from you’ kisses. No ‘I’m confused about what I want’ kisses. Mute doesn’t half-arse things, and neither does he half-arse capturing Smoke’s lips in such sensual, deep, adoring kisses that he’s rendered speechless. Though his nipples continue to be abused in the most titillating way, one of Mute’s hands finds the opportunity to bury itself in Smoke’s luscious hair and softly tilt his head into the kiss. Their tongues aren’t involved at first, it’s just smooth lips pressing against his own, chasing his, a relieved sigh following as if uttered by a reassured lover, a gentle massage of his scalp, a tight embrace, a body melting against his.

These are ‘we just reunited after being apart for too long’ kisses. ‘Meeting at the airport after a long vacation’ kisses.

Holy hell.

They’re ‘I missed you so much’ kisses.

Oh boy. Something has happened here and though Smoke can’t identify it yet, his body realises much sooner what it means – he might be able to enjoy this guilt-free after all.

The moment Mute’s tongue touches his is the moment he suddenly becomes aware of how soon this is going to be over if they don’t quit dry humping. Smoke’s primed enough as it is, desperate for any kind of release (even into his sweatpants) and throbbing at this point, the lack of an orgasm earlier coming back to bite him since the roaring need blots out everything else. They have to get a move on, so he bravely reaches between them and unclasps Mute’s belt using what little brainpower their lovely making out leaves him. He keeps moaning into Mute’s mouth despite trying to concentrate on getting his jeans open and eventually just admits defeat, fingers too shaky and mind preoccupied with all the wonderful sensations everywhere on his body.

“I’m gonna come”, he gasps as a last resort, “babe please, I’m gonna come soon. Wait. Please wait, oh fuck -” One of his nipples is twisted in response, causing his erection to jump, and Mute latches onto his neck again, sucking so insistently there’s no doubt it’ll show. Which is a gesture too hot for Smoke to handle right now. “Babe. Please. I can’t -” A hard rod presses against his own, startling a helpless mewl out of him. This isn’t good. He can’t control himself, not near his climax like this, so he’s relying on Mute to do the right thing.

…an intoxicated, horny Mute, and yeah, maybe this isn’t one of his better ideas.

In his desperation, he resorts to the only possible action capable of halting his impending doom and twists in Mute’s arms, writhes until he’s awarded enough leeway to fully turn around and have Mute rub against his arse instead. Which is only a marginal improvement seeing as the large dick fits beautifully between his cheeks and it reminds him too sharply of the position in which Mute fucked a hands-off orgasm out of him.

He wonders whether Mute will manage a repeat performance and feels his face grow warm at the thought.

Arms snake around his torso, conveying Mute’s unwillingness to let him go, and a hand dives down past the waistband of his sweats, meeting nothing but skin. Oh, right. He didn’t dress properly, did he.

“Oh my god, James”, purrs Mute right into his ear, making him squirm. It’s the second time Smoke’s name falls from his lips and where the first occurrence sounded composed, this time it’s both scandalised and excited. He better not think this is all premeditated, it’d kill Smoke if his friend (ex-friend?) assumed he turned up here expecting to get laid, though there’s still one detail left to discover which will undermine him even further. Best not to beat around the bush then.

Well, that and he really, really, really wants Mute’s gorgeous cock inside him right this instant.

He’s overwhelmed as it is, there’s teeth at the nape of his neck and now Mute’s wrist is warm against his dick, deft fingers cradling his balls like they were made for it (and how does he know all of Smoke’s sensitive spots, he exploits everything as if someone had given him an instruction manual, turning Smoke’s knees into butter and his brain into mush), and Smoke can’t. He can’t. He doesn’t care they haven’t shed a single piece of clothing or exchanged an honest sentence since he came here, couldn’t care less about more foreplay or god knows what. Propping himself up on the counter with Mute draped over him like an overprotective, jealous lover, in between jumps of his cock in reaction to the indirect stimulation, he pleads: “Just put it in, babe. I’m ready. You can fuck me right here.”

And though the Mute in his head reacts with unbridled enthusiasm by taking him up on the offer with no hesitation (and wouldn’t that be amazing, just getting railed in Mute’s kitchen mere minutes after arriving, he’d come so hard he nearly passes out staring at the bottle of whisky Bandit put aside for him and all would be fine again), the real-world Mute pauses for a second. Lets go of Smoke’s balls to reach around to the other side, brushes over a quivering hole that instantly relaxes against the probing fingertip, undoubtedly notices how wet it is.

Don’t ask me about it, Smoke implores him mentally, just don’t ask and do it. Please. Fuck now, talk later. Come on.

Two fingers are shoved inside him, pushing the air out his lungs. Smoke lets out a small, helpless noise and then another when the fingers move inside him, push deeper, twist and scissor – not as wide as the toy he’d used earlier but more precise, brushing over his sweet spot with worrying accuracy as he whimpers in disbelief. He stares into nothingness while Mute explores his insides, makes his entire body curl in sudden lust whenever he hits that special place and yes, maybe getting fingered to completion is fine too. The third one finally blurs his vision and nearly has him smack his head on the kitchen counter in response to an especially vicious twist of Mute’s wrist – and though he’s enjoying himself, he idly wonders whether Mute wants some loving, too.

He’s not left wondering for long.

“Bedroom”, Mute orders, voice thick. His fingers withdraw, leaving Smoke gaping and gasping. “Let’s…” A shaky intake of breath, then another, quieter: “… bedroom.”

The lad doesn’t move until Smoke does, probably stalking after him so Smoke can’t see his face (which he already has anyway, and Mute looks as unguarded and open as he did last time: cheeks and ears flushed, off-balance, longing, beautiful). Walking is awkward due to his legs not cooperating fully after Mute just tried to reach into his guts, let alone the general haze clouding his mind; but what it does is allow him a few seconds to think. Unimpeded by curious hands roaming over his body, by an insatiable mouth requiring contact at all times.

He misses Mute’s touch already.

Still… how did they end up like this? A tinge of his previous doubts remains as he himself knows how powerful nostalgia can be, especially when amplified by alcohol. But surely, that can’t be it.

And even if it is, Mute won’t blame him the next day. Right?

… right?

Two details cause this line of thought to screech to a halt: one realisation, the other more immediate. The first is the fact that Mute’s bedroom is an absolute mess. Smoke remembers the layout of this flat, legs carrying him to their destination without any presence of mind required and it doesn’t click until he’s pressed down on the handle, made the door swing open. Clothes are strewn about everywhere, the small desk is crowded with all kinds of shite, the bed is unmade, the wardrobe door askew, a few dirty dishes piled up on the bedside table. No doubt none of Mute’s guests set foot in here this evening. Yet Smoke is allowed to, even asked in, invited into the most intimate part of Mute’s living space and the implications aren’t lost on him. Mute could’ve left him in the kitchen, or they could’ve moved to the living room. Instead, they’re here.

The second one begins as a light touch and changes into a hand wrapping around his, reacting to his prompt by interlacing their fingers, holding on tight. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears as he stands there like an utter idiot amid this mess, face burning, clutching Mute’s hand so hard it must hurt, and doesn’t dare move a muscle in case all of this vanishes in a single second. In case it’s some fragile, wishful dream. They’re holding hands. And Mute initiated.

What the fuck.