#I keep running diagnostics

[ek300-theprototype]

Ever just.... register severe damage where you reasonably shouldn't? That probably shouldn't be happening

[kalashnikovlobotomy]

an ame with which it's debatable whether he knows (probably, distantly.) or acknowledges (no) that he's a little *squeak* in the brain but it really throws him off balance when others notice . but he's not subtle... i think you go grocery shopping with him and he's very obviously turning things around to read the back but if he feels like you're staring he starts overheating. 20 minutes later he's still thinking about it and goes "haha yeah did i tell you im allergic to somethingxylathamine-B and gotta check everything for it? that's why i was doing that. by the way. if you were wondering." but you already forgot what he's referring to...

[selkies-song]

Solved a REALLY interesting car case today (albeit with a lot of help) and I'm on cloud 9. This is why I'm doing what I'm doing.

[lollybliz]

Babbled in the tags, I'm not rewriting all that on mobile, I'll edit the post later

That's a study by Penn State University that will allow you access to a quiz that estimates the likelihood that you may have ptsd, due to adverse childhood events. It's not going to diagnose you; it isn't a therapist. It IS good data, both for you and for the people running the study.

it's so funny to me when i see pearl-clutching articles about how "teenagers are diagnosing themselves with mental disorders via tiktok" because like. this is not happening in a vacuum. teenagers are severely and i mean severely medically neglected. i cannot stress this enough. teenagers do not have free access to medical care. those same news outlets would be clowning on women with housewife psychosis in the 1950's.

i sometimes go pale when listening to some of what my friends have gone through in their childhoods and teenagehoods. they talk about it so nonchalantly, things that would be considered straight up torture if done to an adult, can't fathom the effect this has on children. they are on multiple anti-psychotics and several antidepressants and anxiety meds now that they are adults. medical neglect has legally and effectively disabled them. a timely diagnosis and intervention could have saved them. of course teenagers are self-diagnosing using tiktok. if your knee-jerk reaction is to scoff at the idea and dismiss it as dumb teenager shit instead of being radicalized because the best shot young people have at attaining the mental health support they need is a fucking dancing videos app, you're categorically a political enemy of the youth.

[relto]

the crash happy computer i got yesterday always shows the bluescreen for only half a second so to figure out what tf is going on i decided to connect an external webcam to a different computer, pointed it at the screen, and started recording. and YES it worked!! now i have the error code at least.

[trans-axolotl]

also in regards to that last article about varied ways of thinking about psychosis/altered states that don't just align with medical model or carceral psychiatry---I always love sharing about Bethel House and their practices of peer support for schizophrenia that are founded on something called tojisha kenkyu, but I don't see it mentioned as often as things like HVN and Soteria House.

ID: [A colorful digital drawing of a group of people having a meeting inside a house while it snows outside.]

"What really set the stage for tōjisha-kenkyū were two social movements started by those with disabilities. In the 1950s, a new disability movement was burgeoning in Japan, but it wasn’t until the 1970s that those with physical disabilities, such as cerebral palsy, began to advocate for themselves more actively as tōjisha. For those in this movement, their disability is visible. They know where their discomfort comes from, why they are discriminated against, and in what ways they need society to change. Their movement had a clear sense of purpose: make society accommodate the needs of people with disabilities. Around the same time, during the 1970s, a second movement was started by those with mental health issues, such as addiction (particularly alcohol misuse) and schizophrenia. Their disabilities are not always visible. People in this second movement may not have always known they had a disability and, even after they identify their problems, they may remain uncertain about the nature of their disability. Unlike those with physical and visible disabilities, this second group of tōjisha were not always sure how to advocate for themselves as members of society. They didn’t know what they wanted and needed from society. This knowing required new kinds of self-knowledge.

As the story goes, tōjisha-kenkyū emerged in the Japanese fishing town of Urakawa in southern Hokkaido in the early 2000s. It began in the 1980s when locals who had been diagnosed with psychiatric disorders created a peer-support group in a run-down church, which was renamed ‘Bethel House’. The establishment of Bethel House (or just Bethel) was also aided by the maverick psychiatrist Toshiaki Kawamura and an innovative social worker named Ikuyoshi Mukaiyachi. From the start, Bethel embodied the experimental spirit that followed the ‘antipsychiatry’ movement in Japan, which proposed ideas for how psychiatry might be done differently, without relying only on diagnostic manuals and experts. But finding new methods was incredibly difficult and, in the early days of Bethel, both staff and members often struggled with a recurring problem: how is it possible to get beyond traditional psychiatric treatments when someone is still being tormented by their disabling symptoms? Tōjisha-kenkyū was born directly out of a desperate search for answers.

In the early 2000s, one of Bethel’s members with schizophrenia was struggling to understand who he was and why he acted the way he did. This struggle had become urgent after he had set his own home on fire in a fit of anger. In the aftermath, he was overwhelmed and desperate. At his wits’ end about how to help, Mukaiyachi asked him if perhaps he wanted to kenkyū (to ‘study’ or ‘research’) himself so he could understand his problems and find a better way to cope with his illness. Apparently, the term ‘kenkyū’ had an immediate appeal, and others at Bethel began to adopt it, too – especially those with serious mental health problems who were constantly urged to think about (and apologise) for who they were and how they behaved. Instead of being passive ‘patients’ who felt they needed to keep their heads down and be ashamed for acting differently, they could now become active ‘researchers’ of their own ailments. Tōjisha-kenkyū allowed these people to deny labels such as ‘victim’, ‘patient’ or ‘minority’, and to reclaim their agency.

Tōjisha-kenkyū is based on a simple idea. Humans have long shared their troubles so that others can empathise and offer wisdom about how to solve problems. Yet the experience of mental illness is often accompanied by an absence of collective sharing and problem-solving. Mental health issues are treated like shameful secrets that must be hidden, remain unspoken, and dealt with in private. This creates confused and lonely people, who can only be ‘saved’ by the top-down knowledge of expert psychiatrists. Tōjisha-kenkyū simply encourages people to ‘study’ their own problems, and to investigate patterns and solutions in the writing and testimonies of fellow tōjisha.

Self-reflection is at the heart of this practice. Tōjisha-kenkyū incorporates various forms of reflection developed in clinical methods, such as social skills training and cognitive behavioural therapy, but the reflections of a tōjisha don’t begin and end at the individual. Instead, self-reflection is always shared, becoming a form of knowledge that can be communally reflected upon and improved. At Bethel House, members found it liberating that they could define themselves as ‘producers’ of a new form of knowledge, just like the doctors and scientists who diagnosed and studied them in hospital wards. The experiential knowledge of Bethel members now forms the basis of an open and shared public domain of collective knowledge about mental health, one distributed through books, newspaper articles, documentaries and social media.

Tōjisha-kenkyū quickly caught on, making Bethel House a site of pilgrimage for those seeking alternatives to traditional psychiatry. Eventually, a café was opened, public lectures and events were held, and even merchandise (including T-shirts depicting members’ hallucinations) was sold to help support the project. Bethel won further fame when their ‘Hallucination and Delusion Grand Prix’ was aired on national television in Japan. At these events, people in Urakawa are invited to listen and laugh alongside Bethel members who share stories of their hallucinations and delusions. Afterwards, the audience votes to decide who should win first prize for the most hilarious or moving account. One previous winner told a story about a failed journey into the mountains to ride a UFO and ‘save the world’ (it failed because other Bethel members convinced him he needed a licence to ride a UFO, which he didn’t have). Another winner told a story about living in a public restroom at a train station for four days to respect the orders of an auditory hallucination. Tōjisha-kenkyū received further interest, in and outside Japan, when the American anthropologist Karen Nakamura wrote A Disability of the Soul: An Ethnography of Schizophrenia and Mental Illness in Contemporary Japan (2013), a detailed and moving account of life at Bethel House. "

-Japan's Radical Alternative to Psychiatric Diagnosis by Satsuki Ayaya and Junko Kitanaka

[iamthelowercase]

...Wait, people actually memorize times tables? I learned the tricks approach --I was taught using the tricks approach!-- and feel like I'm bad at math, and get people telling me I'm good at math all the time.

And here I've spent nearly a decade thinking @yudkowsky made up that example about the calculators.

come on, everybody still counts on their fingers to add and substract smaller numbers, right? And then for bigger numbers everyone has to look it up or just die basically, yeah?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

There are few phrases in the modern lexicon more accursed than "software-based car," and yet, this is how the failed EV maker Fisker billed its products, which retailed for $40-70k in the few short years before the company collapsed, shut down its servers, and degraded all those "software-based cars":

https://insideevs.com/news/723669/fisker-inc-bankruptcy-chapter-11-official/

Fisker billed itself as a "capital light" manufacturer, meaning that it didn't particularly make anything – rather, it "designed" cars that other companies built, allowing Fisker to focus on "experience," which is where the "software-based car" comes in. Virtually every subsystem in a Fisker car needs (or rather, needed) to periodically connect with its servers, either for regular operations or diagnostics and repair, creating frequent problems with brakes, airbags, shifting, battery management, locking and unlocking the doors:

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-worry-about-vehicles-working-bankruptcy-2024-4

Since Fisker's bankruptcy, people with even minor problems with their Fisker EVs have found themselves owning expensive, inert lumps of conflict minerals and auto-loan debt; as one Fisker owner described it, "It's literally a lawn ornament right now":

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-describe-chaos-to-keep-cars-running-after-bankruptcy-2024-7

This is, in many ways, typical Internet-of-Shit nonsense, but it's compounded by Fisker's capital light, all-outsource model, which led to extremely unreliable vehicles that have been plagued by recalls. The bankrupt company has proposed that vehicle owners should have to pay cash for these recalls, in order to reserve the company's capital for its creditors – a plan that is clearly illegal:

https://www.veritaglobal.net/fisker/document/2411390241007000000000005

This isn't even the first time Fisker has done this! Ten years ago, founder Henrik Fisker started another EV company called Fisker Automotive, which went bankrupt in 2014, leaving the company's "Karma" (no, really) long-range EVs (which were unreliable and prone to bursting into flames) in limbo:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisker_Karma

Which raises the question: why did investors reward Fisker's initial incompetence by piling in for a second attempt? I think the answer lies in the very factor that has made Fisker's failure so hard on its customers: the "software-based car." Investors love the sound of a "software-based car" because they understand that a gadget that is connected to the cloud is ripe for rent-extraction, because with software comes a bundle of "IP rights" that let the company control its customers, critics and competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

A "software-based car" gets to mobilize the state to enforce its "IP," which allows it to force its customers to use authorized mechanics (who can, in turn, be price-gouged for licensing and diagnostic tools). "IP" can be used to shut down manufacturers of third party parts. "IP" allows manufacturers to revoke features that came with your car and charge you a monthly subscription fee for them. All sorts of features can be sold as downloadable content, and clawed back when title to the car changes hands, so that the new owners have to buy them again. "Software based cars" are easier to repo, making them perfect for the subprime auto-lending industry. And of course, "software-based cars" can gather much more surveillance data on drivers, which can be sold to sleazy, unregulated data-brokers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

Unsurprisingly, there's a large number of Fisker cars that never sold, which the bankruptcy estate is seeking a buyer for. For a minute there, it looked like they'd found one: American Lease, which was looking to acquire the deadstock Fiskers for use as leased fleet cars. But now that deal seems dead, because no one can figure out how to restart Fisker's servers, and these vehicles are bricks without server access:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/08/fisker-bankruptcy-hits-major-speed-bump-as-fleet-sale-is-now-in-question/

It's hard to say why the company's servers are so intransigent, but there's a clue in the chaotic way that the company wound down its affairs. The company's final days sound like a scene from the last days of the German Democratic Republic, with apparats from the failing state charging about in chaos, without any plans for keeping things running:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/03/07/east-germany-stasi-surveillance-documents/

As it imploded, Fisker cycled through a string of Chief Financial officers, losing track of millions of dollars at a time:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/05/31/fisker-collapse-investigation-ev-ocean-suv-henrik-geeta/

When Fisker's landlord regained possession of its HQ, they found "complete disarray," including improperly stored drums of toxic waste:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/05/fiskers-hq-abandoned-in-complete-disarray-with-apparent-hazardous-waste-clay-models-left-behind/

And while Fisker's implosion is particularly messy, the fact that it landed in bankruptcy is entirely unexceptional. Most businesses fail (eventually) and most startups fail (quickly). Despite this, businesses – even those in heavily regulated sectors like automotive regulation – are allowed to design products and undertake operations that are not designed to outlast the (likely short-lived) company.

After the 2008 crisis and the collapse of financial institutions like Lehman Brothers, finance regulators acquired a renewed interest in succession planning. Lehman consisted of over 6,000 separate corporate entities, each one representing a bid to evade regulation and/or taxation. Unwinding that complex hairball took years, during which the entities that entrusted Lehman with their funds – pensions, charitable institutions, etc – were unable to access their money.

To avoid repeats of this catastrophe, regulators began to insist that banks produce "living wills" – plans for unwinding their affairs in the event of catastrophe. They had to undertake "stress tests" that simulated a wind-down as planned, both to make sure the plan worked and to estimate how long it would take to execute. Then banks were required to set aside sufficient capital to keep the lights on while the plan ran on.

This regulation has been indifferently enforced. Banks spent the intervening years insisting that they are capable of prudently self-regulating without all this interference, something they continue to insist upon even after the Silicon Valley Bank collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout

The fact that the rules haven't been enforced tells us nothing about whether the rules would work if they were enforced. A string of high-profile bankruptcies of companies who had no succession plans and whose collapse stands to materially harm large numbers of people tells us that something has to be done about this.

Take 23andme, the creepy genomics company that enticed millions of people into sending them their genetic material (even if you aren't a 23andme customer, they probably have most of your genome, thanks to relatives who sent in cheek-swabs). 23andme is now bankrupt, and its bankruptcy estate is shopping for a buyer who'd like to commercially exploit all that juicy genetic data, even if that is to the detriment of the people it came from. What's more, the bankruptcy estate is refusing to destroy samples from people who want to opt out of this future sale:

https://bourniquelaw.com/2024/10/09/data-23-and-me/

On a smaller scale, there's Juicebox, a company that makes EV chargers, who are exiting the North American market and shutting down their servers, killing the advanced functionality that customers paid extra for when they chose a Juicebox product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/10/2/24260316/juicebox-ev-chargers-enel-x-way-closing-discontinued-app

I actually owned a Juicebox, which ultimately caught fire and melted down, either due to a manufacturing defect or to the criminal ineptitude of Treeium, the worst solar installers in Southern California (or both):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/27/here-comes-the-sun-king/#sign-here

Projects like Juice Rescue are trying to reverse-engineer the Juicebox server infrastructure and build an alternative:

https://juice-rescue.org/

This would be much simpler if Juicebox's manufacturer, Enel X Way, had been required to file a living will that explained how its customers would go on enjoying their property when and if the company discontinued support, exited the market, or went bankrupt.

That might be a big lift for every little tech startup (though it would be superior than trying to get justice after the company fails). But in regulated sectors like automotive manufacture or genomic analysis, a regulation that says, "Either design your products and services to fail safely, or escrow enough cash to keep the lights on for the duration of an orderly wind-down in the event that you shut down" would be perfectly reasonable. Companies could make "software based cars" but the more "software based" the car was, the more funds they'd have to escrow to transition their servers when they shut down (and the lest capital they'd have to build the car).

Such a rule should be in addition to more muscular rules simply banning the most abusive practices, like the Oregon state Right to Repair bill, which bans the "parts pairing" that makes repairing a Fisker car so onerous:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/27/24097042/right-to-repair-law-oregon-sb1596-parts-pairing-tina-kotek-signed

Or the Illinois state biometric privacy law, which strictly limits the use of the kind of genomic data that 23andme collected:

https://www.ilga.gov/legislation/ilcs/ilcs3.asp?ActID=3004

Failing to take action on these abusive practices is dangerous – and not just to the people who get burned by them. Every time a genomics research project turns into a privacy nightmare, that salts the earth for future medical research, making it much harder to conduct population-scale research, which can be carried out in privacy-preserving ways, and which pays huge scientific dividends that we all benefit from:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership

Just as Fisker's outrageous ripoff will make life harder for good cleantech companies:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

If people are convinced that new, climate-friendly tech is a cesspool of grift and extraction, it will punish those firms that are making routine, breathtaking, exciting (and extremely vital) breakthroughs:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/10/08/norways-national-football-stadium-has-the-worlds-largest-vertical-solar-roof-how-does-it-w

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based

[yuri-is-online]

A really stupid idea I had and I can't even decide where I want it to go 😩

Anyone of the first years heard from a guy in their club that their boyfriends bestfriends roommates cousins friend has a thing for Yuu and a bad reputation for using love potions, suddenly first year of your choice is taking his bodyguard duties for Yuu even more seriously than ever and watching them like a Hawk until one day Yuu seemingly receives a nice gift package from an "secret admirer" and the boys panic, snatching the treat from Yuu's hand and chowing down themselves because they're dumb and impulsive and in love.

What follows is either;

A. The "secret admirer" was actually Grim who wanted to do something nice for his Henchhuman by making them tuna filled muffins as thanks for their service and now not only did they inhale the worst cake ever, got a tantrum throwing Grim to appease.

B. There was a love potion in those cookies, but whoever laced them is actually kinda bad at potionology and they're "Puppy love" potions, cue our freshman acting like The Prince from Mirror Mirror (2012) when he had a puppy love potion. His reputation at school will never recover from this but its worth it because Yuu now looks at him like he's the sunrise itself for taking that bullet for him.

C. There was no love potion. No shady business. Just normal brownies and now a very upset Yuu. Even if they understood his concerns, do you think between their allowance and Grim's appetite they want to hear excuses for them stealing food from Yuu!? He promises he'll make it up to them just stop hitting him! 💦💦

D. There was no love potion.2 but man. These pretzels...really suck. The freshman almost feels bad for whoever sent them because if this was their pickup attempt then they lost before they even began. Wait, what? Yuu made these to send as a secret admirer to their crush!? Now he's got even more complicated feelings about this whole ordeal while Yuu sulks about how the guy they wanted to give these to just said they suck to their face.

E. There was no love potion.3 but Yuu doesn't have to know that. Now the Freshman is free to "pretend" all his flirting and affection is thanks to those croissants AND play the hero. Its full proof! Until Ortho runs a diagnostic to find a cure for him and reveals that there was no potion that is. Hey, he can always try and claim a placebo effect, right?💦

F. The love potion was actually an aphrodisiac and now Yuu has t[I AM BEATEN TO DEATH BY KING MICKEYS KEYBLADE]

So the problem with this ask is that I really love all of these options and they could all work for a small fic for each of the options. That being said, there are specific ones that suit certain first years more than others.

A. The Great Grim's Perfect Surprise- Ace

Floyd is the one who gives Ace the heads up that someone with a bad reputation was interested in Yuu. And hey that was technically true! It's just that Floyd also over heard Grim bragging about the cupcakes he made and had a brilliant idea.

It's the worst possible case scenario for Ace, the cake tasted horrible, Grim is throwing a tantrum, Floyd is there and he brought Jamil to laugh at him too. This fucking sucks he hates his life man. Well until you shoo everyone out and shush Grim with some praise before turning your focus to him.

You're so concerned about him it makes his heart hurt. You get him something to drink and fuss over him for the rest of the day in a way that makes him fall in love with you all over again. Those half hearted scolds about there being better ways to get rid of poison don't land at all, doesn't matter how he does it he'll keep you safe and that's a promise.

B. Puppy Love Potion- Jack

The captain of the track team tells Jack and Deuce together, he knows the two of them are your friends and that they'll make sure you stay safe. Unfortunately he's not fully aware of how... delusional Jack is about how not into you he is.

The puppy love potion has him acting like even more of a puppy than usual. His tail won't stop wagging and he is actually smiling at you, thank the seven he's so willing to listen to what you have to say so you can keep him in Ramshackle until the potion wears off. He manages to reclaim his reputation just fine, Jack's a scary fucking guy when he tries to be and you'd have to be really stupid to mess with him when he's in a mood.

... not that you can really tell the difference between puppy love Jack and normal Jack when the Ramshackle Prefect insists on looking at him like that. He must really hate his tail.

C. How Dare You Eat my Food- Deuce

Same as before: captain gives the heads up, Jack and Deuce are really concerned, and Deuce decides to do something about it because he's in love and doesn't want to see you get hurt.

He doesn't realize there was nothing wrong with them until you point it out and he's beyond heartbroken. Please you have to understand he didn't mean it! Sure those brownies were really good and yeah maybe he should have realized that they were normal about half way through the pan but- he's so sorry! He's not above getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness and especially not from you.

There is a rule in Heartslabyul about returning things after you take them, so as soon as Deuce learns he took your food he's already planning on replacing it. Maybe you would let him borrow your kitchen? He won't let you help since he's fixing his own mistake but he doesn't see why you can't hang out. You'll get fresh brownies out of it and he gets to look cool Task failed successfully?

D. This is... Adequate I Suppose- Sebek

Only someone with an actual death wish would come up with this sort of plan in Riddle's presence. He's screaming, the paddock is on fire, and no one is really stopping him because hey idiot deserves it and also has anyone seen where Sebek went? Would have thought he'd have something to say too given that whole "crush he has on the prefect thing"

Well that's because he's too busy eating your pretzels with a trademark look of disgust as he tells you about what happened at Equestrian club today. These suck, he has such high standards for what you are worthy of and if it weren't for the potential danger posed to you he never would have-

Your wry disappointment silences him immediately, his look of concern and shock is really cute so it sort of makes up for how much his words hurt. He's aghast, you have someone you... admire? Someone you are too shy to confess to? And you made them something with your own two hands, he actually wants to cry he's so embarrassed, jealous, and in love all at the same time.

"You shouldn't have to do this. You- You are the one who deserves to be pursed. But if it is something you wish to do-" He draws himself up into a proper knight's stance, stiff as board and deeply determined to be seen as reliable. Safe. A... friend if you will allow it and something more if he could be so blessed. "-then we shall begin training immediately! Back to the kitchen, human!"

E. Placebo Effect- Epel

Only someone with an actual death wish would come up with this plan pt. 2 except Leona is a lot more reasonable than Riddle with how he handles it. He tells Epel to go check on Yuu while he goes to dump the guy on Crewel. That way he doesn't have to be the one to fill out all of the annoying disciplinary paperwork.

So he knows by the time he shows up at Ramshackle that there really is no threat to your safety but still... this sort of opportunity is just too good to pass up. And he's such a good actor too, if this wouldn't get him in trouble with Vil he'd rub it in his dorm leader's face.

See Vil! He doesn't need no fancy manners or etiquette, Yuu's flushed and charmed by his old fashioned gentlemanly behavior. He's holding doors, pulling out your chair, giving you all of the compliments he thinks about but never says for fear of looking uncool. He even gets to bake apple pie with you until Ortho calls his bluff. Sure, he should have some shame, but this is Epel we're talking about. He claims the placebo effect and pretends to be super embarrassed while gauging your reaction for any trace of disappointment.

If he's satisfied with how sad you are he just might make it up to you with a real date~

Like I was saying all of these prompts could really work for any of them and- huh could have sworn there was a sixth one. Weird anyway thanks for the ask!

...

....

..... ok so now that the coast is clear:

First thing's first, they're all mad as hell that someone tried to drug you with an aphrodisiac. That's so beyond disgusting, who does this guy think he is?

Ace's focus is entirely on you. He doesn't outright admit what's wrong, he actively teases you for being into him when you express concern as if it doesn't send a painful pang of arousal through him when you don't deny it. You have to make a move, he'll ask for it half serious half joke, but he wants you to do this because you want him and not as some sort of favor please don't say it like that- He starts taking shots at the other guy when he regains enough of his ego to flip you on your back and start taking the lead. Really, how stupid was that guy to think he had a chance when you only have eyes for him, prefect? Now don't you dare try to hide your cute expressions from him, he's been looking forward to this.

Jack is convinced he can just lock himself in his room and endure. He tries thinking of it as a training exercise, sure he might have had some... similar feelings before. Similar thoughts, painful dreams that felt real until he woke up alone, drenched in sweat, painfully unfulfilled and deeply embarrassed. But nothing can compare to the real you, he's almost angry that he ever thought that at all now that you're underneath him. He's so lucky that you're his mate, that he can bite into your neck and thrust into your body and have you accept him even as he locks you together in a sticky mess of sweat and slick. He's beyond embarrassed when he wakes up still balls deep with your fingers running through his matted hair. This would be the worst if he didn't have a cute, very human, bite of his own on his neck.

Deuce's anger is made so much worse by him being horny. The other guy is terrified, everyone around him is terrified Deuce is aware he's gone full delinquent and he can't seem to stop. By the time you find him his knuckles are bruised, he's sweaty, with rumpled clothes, and taking great heaving breaths unable to deny the effects he's feeling and asking you to forgive him. Deuce has an idea of what he wanted your first time to be like. He wanted to take you out on a real date, he wanted to be honorable with you. He didn't expect you to be the one to push him back against the shower stall and take him just as quick and dirty as he feels. You're so beautiful, he's so powerless in the face of your naked desire and very eager to please. Just tell him what you want him to do; he's all yours.

Sebek can't lie about how he feels to save his life. All of NRC knows he's horny because he's screaming about how not horny he is right now and how much he doesn't think your flesh looks super supple, bitable even seven he just wants to- Lilia doesn't let him ignore those feelings after confirming you aren't the slightest bit uncomfortable being the center of Sebek's attention. He's shy, in denial. He is proud of his honorable intent and self control. But he is in love with you and with that love comes a deep, fathomless desire edged with obsessive devotion that all fae pride themselves in. He needs your guidance, he's unused to this. That obsessive attention hangs on your every gasp and moan, when he finds a noise he likes he hammers at the source again and again until you reward him with the most wonderful noise of all. When the potion has worked its way through his system the hunger still remains; his appetite is voracious. A potion is nothing compared to his own desires, hopefully this little accident left you prepared.

Epel's anger is also made so much worse by being horny. But Leona already dealt with the scumbag so it's not like he can work out his aggression on the creep... so won't you let him take it out on you? He's completely serious, the drug has gone straight to his dick and he's not interested in pretending like he doesn't want you prefect. No taking care of it himself won't work, no don't be shy it really can't be anyone else. You want a real man? Well he's right here and he wants you something fierce. Epel wouldn't be this confident if he didn't have so much adrenaline running through him, but he can't bring himself to be embarrassed when he comes to his senses and sees you bent over your desk and much more out of breath than him. He's going to be riding this high for the rest of the year, and he's going to make sure you feel it for just as long too.

[foone]

Your robot girlfriend has to power down to replace her backup battery. The regular batteries are easy to swap while she's online, but that small JR2035 battery that keeps her config saved and clock ticking is way buried inside her chassis.

She holds her chest open as wide as she can pull, and you flip her power switch. The light literally leaves her eyes as the OLEDs power down. Holding the flashlight in your teeth, you reach in with a hand and a flat-blade screwdriver (your last spudger snapped when you were fixing her hand servos last week).

With a soft snap, her backup battery bounces out and ricochets down her torse. You swear and let it end up on the floor, as you carefully reach up to insert the replacement coin cell. It takes a couple fumbling tries, but you get it in, and the right way around too as a special bonus.

You extract yourself from her internals, and plug the diagnostic screen into one of her internal UDMI ports. The switch is flipped with a satisfying clunk, and the display pops to life. Boot messages start streaming by, then it pauses with a softly blinking error:

BIOS settings cleared, please enter setup.

You hit a key on a nearby wireless keyboard, and the bios opens up, all white-on-blue plain text because your GF is, to use a highly technical retrorobotics term, a bit of a MILF.

You set up the basic options for her to boot. She can fine tune this later. You just need her to get running enough to do that. You tell it what kind of hard drive she uses, how many floppy drives she has, pronouns and orientation, etc. You hit F7 to save and reboot and you spot it: the date.

Current Time: 00:04

Current Date: 1970-01-01

Damn it, you're always forgetting to set the date in these things! She's already booting, you can see the spinning logo in her eyes. Ah well. You can reboot her and fix it, or maybe it'll auto-set from the network? You can't remember if that'll work.

The logo leaves her screen. You see that finger twitch of her final boot up, and her irises reappear and quickly focus. Her hair starts to blink in as the holoprojectors spin up, and she starts to sit up.

"Hey... I swapped the battery, how are you feeling?"

She gets that smile where her eyes go big. Her holos blink and her clothes change, and half an instant later, her hair.

The music system in your living room switches over to a sweet bassline.

Disco?

You turn as she stands up, and starts doing the Staying Alive dance. She's got the white leisuresuit, and an afro that seems to be growing by the second.

well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's bot, no time to talk!

Ahh. 1970.

[velaryqns]

Please write being Gregory house wife, pregnant with your second child and just domestic life with house, toddler and baby on the way

Peaceful Evenings

Pairing: dad & husband!gregory house x wife, mom, & pregnant! reader

summary: It's late in the evening when Greg gets home from work...

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, I just threw out a random name for the kid when I started writing...so

You looked at the time as you scrolled through the website you were shopping on. You and Greg had recently discussed the need for a new dining room table. The two seater wasn’t going to work much longer, Parker needed to start using a booster and the baby was due in two months. Plus, you’d be able to get James to help set one up if you needed it. None of the tables had grabbed your attention, and you rubbed a hand over your stomach and hummed, “We might have to convince daddy to go to an actual furniture store.”

The baby seemed to kick in response, and you chuckled and closed the laptop. You sat forward more and stretched your back out, then kicked your legs over the bed to go check on your son in his room. Parker was nearly three, but you still frequently worried about him. Greg had tried to calm your nerves about him, as your son wasn’t a restless sleeper, and was usually good about sleeping through the night after settling into a nice routine.

Sure enough, your son was sound asleep in his bed when you peaked in. Across the hall from his room was the nursery, neutral colors with pops of all colors of the rainbow for your new baby. You continued down the hall, one hand against the wall, to the kitchen. You’d spent most of the evening trying to keep Parker entertained and make sure everything was clean after your day at the hospital.

Thankfully, being a nurse didn’t keep you away from your life at home as frequently as House being the Head of Diagnostics did to him. You couldn’t blame him, and knew he didn’t like when he had to call you and say that something was running behind. It wasn’t frequent, as rare cases were called rare for a reason.

He had called ahead of dinner and you told him to get home safe. But now, he should be home any minute. You turned on the kitchen light, adjusting to the brightness as you got a glass of water, as well as made yourself a cup of tea. As you waited for your tea to be done, you sat at the table. You looked around the living room.

Parker had a few toys still lying around that you’d forgotten to pick up, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up this late into the evening. Your eyes were taken from the toys when the sound of keys at the door could be heard. You looked over, smiling at your husband as the door was pushed open.

He had a tired look on his face, but was able to offer you a smile as he set his keys and bag aside. He limped into the kitchen, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You hummed, feeling his hand land on your shoulder and squeeze it gently. He pulled away and grabbed the other chair to sit closer to you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled at him, cupping your chin with one hand, “Dinner is in fridge if you’re hungry.”

He nodded, patting his hands against the table and rising to his feet. He limped over to the fridge and you turned to watch as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing a mug and pouring your tea for you before he brought it over, “You didn’t have to stay up.”

“Don’t just blame me,” you chuckled and patted your stomach, where the baby had finally stilled for the evening as you took the mug from your husband, “I’m hoping some tea will help me sleep though.”

There was silence as his food reheated and you took a sip of your tea, before you hummed with a small smile, "And maybe with you here tonight."

Your husband let out a small chuckle as the microwave went off and he joined you at the table, sitting in the other chair and taking a bite of his food. You sat back in your chair slightly, wrapping your hands around the ceramic mug as you watched your husband eat. There were a few minutes of silence before you heard the unmistakable sound of Parker in his room. Your eyes darted toward the clock above the stove, a slight frown forming before you pushed yourself to your feet.

You squeezed a hand on your husband's shoulder, squeezing lightly before you wandered down the hall and into Parker's room. You stepped inside to see him sitting up in bed, a new small one that you'd bribed James into helping House bring into the apartment and set up. You smiled at your son, helping him out of the bed and holding his hand as he walked down the hall.

The toddler's sleepy face instantly lit up when he spotted his father sitting at the dining room table. You let his hand go and allowed him to rush into his father's arms. Parker settled on Greg's lap as you sat back in the chair, stretching your back as you and Greg locked eyes, a small smile on your husband's face while Parker began rattling off, with whatever words he knew how to use, about his day after Greg had left.

You knew then that your husband would take the responsibility of tucking the little boy back into bed, and that you'd join each other in the comfort of your large bed and blankets.

This was nice.

[httpvomitello]

Helloooo, can I request something for the 2018 turtles (ROTTMNT)? The reader arrives with the guys to show them the softshell turtle they got as a gift at a school science fair. Since they're not very sure how to take care of it, they go to the guys for help. And the turtle... it looks just like the one from The Amazing World of Gumball. I just think it would be fun to see the turtles (especially Donnie) interacting with the evil turtle haha 😭

OMG NOT THAT FREAKING TURTLE 😭😭 When I learned that Donnie is a softshell turtle, my mind immediately went to that turtle from Gumball. Like... Seriously??? That turtle is the reincarnation of evil, that's for sure. Anyways ~ i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Leo is so pumped when you show up with a turtle

He’s already imagining the epic sibling turtle bonding he’ll all have, and he’s definitely scheming ways to turn your new buddy into his own personal sidekick

But as he leans in to get a better look, he catches the turtle giving him a super intense, villainous stare

"Uh, why is he looking at me like that?" Leo laughs nervously, tapping the glass of its little tank

The turtle does not break eye contact

In fact, it somehow looks like it’s plotting something

After a long, intense staring contest (which Leo loses), Leo's more hyped than ever

“Oh, we’re keeping him. This little guy’s got edge.”

He decides to call it something like "Sidekick Jr", and he tries to train it to glare on command, thinking it’ll be perfect to bring it to battle with him

Obviously you don't let that happen.

Raph’s eyebrows shoot up the second he sees the turtle

“Whoa. That turtle is… cute.”

Lying is not Raph's focus

He is all in for helping you take care of it

But as soon as he leans in, the turtle levels him with a stare so intense that Raph is slightly taken aback

“This guy looks like he could plan a heist,” he jokes, but he’s half-serious

He’s convinced the turtle has some secret agenda and will not let it out of his sight

Raph takes pride in helping you build a “fortified tank” to protect it from any “potential escape attempts.”

He even draws up “exercise drills” to help it “build character.”

He ends up calling it something like “Lil’ Warrior”

The turtle's name is Bob

And he spends a suspicious amount of time training it to recognize commands, because “A turtle like this needs discipline.”

Donnie’s reaction is extreme caution

Like... wtf? How is this turtle so ugly?

(He completely forgot that he is also a softshell turtle)

He’s thrilled you came to him about turtle care, especially because this guy is a fellow softshell

But then he notices the turtle’s… ominous glare

For the next ten minutes, Donnie just stares back, analyzing every detail

The turtle doesn’t blink

It feels like a showdown

"This isn’t just any turtle, you know," he mutters, more to himself

He immediately runs diagnostics on it, pulling out his tools to test its temperament and intelligence level, just in case

Donnie takes the turtle care seriously, sets up the perfect tank, gets the optimal UV lamp, and is constantly researching enrichment activities, but he still doesn’t entirely trust it

You catch him putting up tiny lasers around the tank "just in case."

And he insists on renaming it something like “Professor Menace” because, in his words

“Look at that face—he’s clearly up to something.”

Mikey’s reaction is pure delight. “Aw! Look at the lil’ guy!”

He immediately wants to hold it, but as soon as he picks it up, the turtle gives him a side-eye that could curdle milk

Yes, the turtle is judging Michelangelo

He tries everything

Offering lettuce, sweet-talking it, giving it little pets, but the turtle just stares, expression unreadable but somehow… sinister

“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Mikey wonders, confused but determined to win the turtle’s affection

He’s convinced it just needs a bit of “good vibes,” so he tries playing calming music, talking to it about his day, and even painting a little flower on the tank

Despite the turtle’s apparent indifference

(And slightly ominous glare)

Mikey’s convinced they’re best friends

He starts calling it “Lil’ Grump,” swearing it’ll warm up eventually.

[s7-evermore]

To Love You Once More [Time Travel! AU]

Vil Schoenheit x Fem! Artist!Yuu (/reader)

This is just a concept I got in mind. Not sure if I’ll keep continuing it. This was just the result of some daydreams caused by Bruno Mars’ and Lady Gaga’s new song lol

“Um…Vil, we’re ready now.”

The young man slowly lifts his head upon hearing the sound of his name. Weary eyes shifts to the figure past the bed in front of him where the new head of STYX, Idia Shroud, stands.

“It’s time to push through with the mission. We’ll take care of her from here.”

Vil Schoenheit gazes longingly at the woman on the bed. A year passed when she went missing, and another since she’d been asleep. He misses the way those eyes perceived the world, how they looked at him with so much love and care.

His thumb brushes against the back of her hand as he held her. He remembers how these hands of hers would hold a brush and paint to her heart’s desire. How she would squeeze his hand to reassure him that she was there.

He lifts his free hand and places them on her abdomen. He feels her breathing, and the loss of the life they had been anticipating together.

Noticing the gesture, Idia clears his throat to speak.

“…We uh, we couldn’t find anything on the baby,” he said slowly, “we checked all the human test subjects they’ve preserved. None of them were newborns. We— we don’t know where they…they dispose of them either— uh, yet, at least.”

“And Grim?” Vil asked.

“Nothing on him either.”

“…I see,” Vil’s voice was no more than a whisper. 

Vil stands from his seat and leaves her with three kisses. One on her wedding ring, a second on the back of her hand, and another on her forehead. 

Vil feels his heart breaking with every second she remained asleep. They said she wasn’t dead, but she didn’t look alive either. She was breathing, but he could barely hear it unless he held his own.

With heavy reluctance, he lets go of her hand and leaves the room with Idia.

“Since we used a bit of her power to run the Trackback machine, it can only work on one person and once,” Idia explains as they walk down the hallway. “Once you’re back there, you can’t return here. Our present now will change depending on how much you change the past.”

Idia halts in front of a door and faces Vil, “This whole mission is dependent on your success. She’s already weak, so we can’t use any more of her power.”

“I understand,” Vil’s expression hardens.

Idia nods in acknowledgement as he pulls out a keycard and scans it on the side of the door. The door opens as an artificial voice acknowledges his position.

The laboratory they enter is completely busy. Technicians were checking the diagnostics of the machine while other scientists were setting the systems up. Ortho, who had been assisting someone, notices them.

“Brother! We’ve done the final system tests on the Trackback machine, everything’s ready for the operation,” Ortho says as he approached.

“Good, keep it running. It’s time.”

Idia walks over to his station as he instructs some of the staff members.

“Vil Schoenheit, are you ready?” Ortho’s voice was softer this time.

“Yes. Is there anything I have to do before I enter the machine?” He asks as he looks over at the Trackback. It was a pod-like machine that was fit for only one person.

“Aside from the previous trials we’ve done, there’s nothing else. Have you said goodbye to Yuu yet?”

Vil’s face softens slightly at the sound of her name, “Yes… I have. Please take care of her for me.”

“Don’t worry, you can count on us!” Ortho exclaims.

Vil nods solemnly before letting the humanoid boy lead him towards the Trackback.

“We’ll be monitoring your vitals, so make sure to stay calm. You have to be in good condition for this to work since we can’t risk you getting hurt,” Ortho explains.

Although the interior was comfortable, Vil feels like he is being laid into a cold coffin.

“Don’t worry, Vil…“

Ortho’s face was the only thing Vil could see through the pod’s window.

“You’ll see her again soon. It won’t be the same, but… I’m sure it will be better next time.”

Vil knew better than to hope for good things. To him, it was better to work towards it rather than relying on luck to get there. However…

Ortho returns to his brother’s side.

“All systems are operational. Time displacement parameters set for 9 years into the past. September of 20XX.“

…this time, he really wished all his hard work would pay off.

The Trackback hums to life. Vil feels the soft vibrations reverberating through his body.

“Coordinates locked to Night Raven College, the morning of the Xth Entrance Ceremony.”

“Thanks Ortho. Give me a full system diagnostic before activation.”

“Initiation system diagnostic… Energy levels stable. Temporal field generators at full capacity. Quantum tether is synchronized with present time. All safety protocols are active.”

“And the displacement window? We need that at 100%.”

Vil knows full well that she wasn’t going to wake up any time soon. All he could do now is to continue to forge ahead. He has to be strong enough to fulfill this mission, to achieve a better future…

“Displacement window integrity is at 98.7%. An acceptable margin for human travel. Estimated arrival time: 15 seconds after activation.”

“15 seconds? We calculated 10 seconds in the earlier trials.”

“This discrepancy is due to the minor fluctuations in the temporal field density. No risk of deviation outside acceptable limits.”

Idia sighs, “Alright, this is as good as it gets. Everyone get ready. Ortho, initiate the countdown.”

…For him. For her. For their child… And for all the people who had been affected by the catastrophe…

“Affirmative. Beginning countdown: 10….9….8….”

The air in the room starts to ripple, and the lights dim as the machine hums louder.

Vil thinks back to the woman on the bed. He feels his wedding ring with his thumb. He had her initials carved into them, and his on her ring.

Something beeps in the background. A technician’s muffled voice reaches Vil’s ears.

“We’re getting some interference on the energy output.”

“Ortho, can you stabilize it?” Idia asks.

“Interference detected, compensating… field stabilized.”

He wants to see her paint again, he wants to tell her how much he loves her…

“7…6…5…” 

He wants to hold her in his arms...

“4…3…”

Even if he has to go through everything again, Vil was sure of one thing…

“…2…1…”

He wants to be with her. Forever.

“Time travel initiation. Displacement commencing.”

They will never be apart ever again.

[nahoney22]

Hi there, I've never done a request before, so fun! 🤗 Could you do angst/fluff (enemies to lovers) with fem reader and Crosshair? "What are you staring at?" / "You, is that a problem?" I'd love for the fem reader to give Cross a dose of his snark, so maybe she's the one saying "You, is that a problem?" Some snark to fluff would be wonderful. Thank you for all you do! ❤️

Under the Moon 🌊

🫧 pairings: Crosshair x Female!Reader

word count: 2k

prompts:

• “What are you staring at?” / “You, is that a problem?”

Crosshair didn’t like new people so naturally, he didn’t like you. Or did he? He can bark but you show him that you can certainly bite back.

warnings: Safe for Work, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bickering, Sassy Moments, Light Angst, Scar/Burn Insecurities, Female Reader.

authors note: sorry for the wait, hope this is okay @megmegalodondon 🫧

The Marauder buzzed with activity, each member of the squad engrossed in their routines. The hum of machinery and quiet murmur of voices filled the air. You were content assisting Tech when a burning sensation prickled on the side of your face, like the intensity of a laser sight. You didn’t need to turn to know who was staring.

Since joining the team, Crosshair’s disdain had been clear. From the moment of his return, he made it obvious he didn’t like you. The others mentioned he wasn’t fond of people in general, and new members who acted like they knew everything were especially irritating to him. Unfortunately, that was you to a tee. Your confidence and cleverness only seemed to amplify his irritation.

As you worked at the main console running diagnostics, you felt Crosshair’s gaze drilling into you. Stealing a glance, you shot him a look of annoyance, but his face remained an impassive mask, eyes like cold steel.

You muttered under your breath, turning back to your task, but his presence was an undeniable distraction. Despite his abrasive attitude, you couldn't ignore his striking looks—though you'd never admit it aloud. His chiseled jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands worked methodically over his rifle — it was all infuriatingly attractive. Sadly his snarky attitude was less than desirable.

“Can you keep the static to a minimum?” Crosshair’s sharp voice cut through the silence, jolting you from your thoughts. His brows were furrowed in irritation, lips a thin line.

You rolled your eyes, fingers pausing on the controls. “It’s called doing my job, Crosshair. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

He set his rifle down with a clatter and stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow over you and his eyes bore into you. “My job is to keep us safe, and I can’t do that if I can’t concentrate.”

“Oh, please. Like your concentration is ever that perfect,” you retorted, standing to meet his gaze. “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to complain.”

His brown eyes darkened, a dangerous glint in them. “I don’t need excuses to point out incompetence.” He stepped closer, the tension between you thick.

“Incompetence? You—” Your retort was cut short by Omega’s innocent voice from her corner, breaking the charged atmosphere.

“Why do you two always fight? It’s like you actually like each other or something.”

Wrecker, lounging on a crate nearby, let out a booming laugh. “Yeah, it’s like a schoolyard crush! You both just need to admit it!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. “What? No! That’s ridiculous,” you spluttered, glaring at the two of them. “Crosshair would be the last guy in all the galaxy I’d ever get with.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Feeling’s mutual.”

Tech glanced up from his datapad, adding his two credits. “Statistically, opposites do attract. It’s not entirely out of the question.”

You and Crosshair turned on him in unison. “Shut up, Tech!”

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Charming. But that just proves my point.”

Your embarrassment deepened as the rest of the squad chuckled. “I’m done with this,” you muttered, turning on your heel and storming away from the others.

Omega’s voice trailed after you, “We were just teasing!”

The next day, you were tasked with scouting a base for Rex, determining the best points for a future infiltration. The dense jungle surrounded you, the air thick with humidity, leaves glistening with moisture and you’re still in a sour mood from yesterday which is only to worsen. As you navigated through the underbrush, Hunter’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You and Crosshair will go ahead together. Maybe sort out your differences while you’re at it.” Clearly, yesterday’s bickering had reached his ears, and this was your punishment. Crosshair merely grunted, a typical response, and began moving ahead without waiting for you. Reluctantly, you followed.

The jungle was alive with the chirps and calls of unseen creatures, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and foliage. At the coordinates, Crosshair suggested a lookout point, but you were less than convinced. “You’re out of your mind if you think that’s a good vantage point,” you stated, shooting him a stern look.

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of annoyance. “And where would you suggest, General?” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

You pointed to a higher spot, frustration evident in your voice. “There, we’ll have a better view of the perimeter.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a mocking smile on his face. “That’s weak. We’ll be seen.”

Your face flushed with annoyance because this wasn’t the first time he disagreed with you, it was almost every single time.

“Or maybe you can’t handle the climb and that’s why you’re opting for the lower point?” You challenge.

His smirk faded slightly, and he took a deliberate step closer, invading your space. With a fluid motion, he removed his helmet, locking his intense eyes on you. “You’re new here, Kitten. Maybe you should learn to trust my judgment.” His voice low and testing.

Your heart pounded, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust your judgment?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the petname he just gave you. “You’re so arrogant!” you retorted whilst also trying to ignore how his proximity affected you.

Crosshair leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against your face. “Arrogant? Or just right?” His gaze flicked down to your lips, lingering. “You should watch that pretty mouth of yours.” The air between you crackled with tension, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it seemed like he wanted to kiss you. Or maybe you wanted to kiss him.

But did he just call you pretty? Was he mocking you? Either way, you find yourself in a sudden daze as you’re hypnotised by his eyes. The realisation hits you hard, leaving you momentarily speechless and strangely drawn to him despite your better judgment.

His breath is warm, scented but breathing deadly silent. If you closed your eyes, you probably wouldn’t even assume he was mere inches from you but he was and it was consuming.

Before either of you could react, a blaster shot rang out, shattering the moment. “Cover’s blown,” Crosshair snapped, his voice yanking you both back to reality. He sprang into action, and you followed, the adrenaline overtaking your argument.

Maybe, it was best to leave the arguing for after the mission.

Later that night, the squad had returned to Pabu, the mission a success despite the rocky start you and Crosshair had caused by not paying attention.

The others were inside the Marauder, their laughter and chatter a comforting presence. The warm, humid air wrapped around you as you stepped outside, needing space to clear your head, especially to think about what had happened earlier with a certain Sniper.

The tropical night was alive with sounds—creatures chirping, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and the distant call of birds. You wandered down to the beach, the soft, damp sand cool beneath your bare feet. The waves lapped rhythmically at the shore, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver path over the water.

As you walked along the shore, you noticed a lone figure lying on the beach. At first you panicked thinking someone was injured but upon closer inspection, silhouetted against the moonlit horizon, it was Crosshair.

He lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky. His usually stern features seemed softer in the moonlight, lost in thought.

For a moment, you considered turning back, but something compelled you to approach him. The sand crunched softly beneath you feet you drew closer, stopping a few feet away. You don’t say anything at first and then end up doing something unexpected—you lay down beside him, your eyes tracing the same stars he was watching. Did he do this often?

Supposedly all the time he spent in a cell made stargazing a rare luxury.

The usual tension between you seemed to vanish in the night air. Crosshair remained silent, his face expressionless as you both lay there, the silence stretching out, surprisingly comfortable.

After a few minutes, you turned your head slightly, your hair brushing against the sand as you watched him. His profile was illuminated by the moonlight dancing; casting sharp shadows and highlighting the lines of his face.

Just like you had noticed him staring at you the day before, he sighed. “What are you staring at?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel.

“You. Is that a problem?” you replied, tone challenging.

He shifted slightly, his eyes flicking towards you before returning to the sky. “Are you looking at my scar?”

“No,” you replied with a small frown, not realising that might be a sensitive topic for him. You had heard about how he got it, but it wasn't something you consciously noticed.

“Good. Look away,” he grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice. Instead of arguing, you did as he asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, Crosshair sighed once more. “Tech was right.”

You turned your head, confusion knitting your brows together. “About what?”

His gaze remained fixed on the moon, his profile bathed in its soft light. “Sometimes, opposites do attract.”

You were taken aback, eyes widening and quite unsure of how to respond. “Really?”

He nodded slowly, the movement almost missable. “I secretly admire how you take my comments on the chin and aren’t afraid to speak your mind. It’s... admirable.” His voice was awkward, as if admitting his feelings was a foreign concept. His usual mask of indifference slipped slightly, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Surprise washed over you. All this time, you had thought Crosshair hated you. His constant criticism, the way he always seemed to challenge you—it had all felt like disdain. But now, you realized it was his strange way of showing respect, of acknowledging your strength.

“You could’ve gone about it a different way, y’know?”

“I know.” He responds stiffly.

You smile softly. “That’s a strange way to apologise to me as well.” You jest.

There’s a very faint chuckle that parts his lips as he says, “don’t push it.”

A heartfelt silence settled between you, the sound of the waves the only interruption. But, you still had one thing on your mind.

Breaking the silence, you asked, “Earlier, during the mission... what do you think went wrong?”

Crosshair's expression hardened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “We were distracted. We weren’t focused.”

You bit your lip, gathering your courage. “I thought... for a moment, I thought you were going to kiss me. Would you have?”

Crosshair fell silent, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Oh no. Why did you have to open your mouth?

Embarrassment flushed through you, and you began to sit up, ready to leave. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Before you could finish, his hand reached out, gently stopping you. He said nothing, his gaze intense and unreadable as he held onto your arm.

Slowly, he sat forward and tilted your face towards his, his touch surprisingly gentle. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, a brief but electrifying connection that left you breathless, your heart trying to leap out of your chest.

The kiss was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters. He pulled back before you could even comprehend what was happening, his eyes searching yours, and for once, there was no hostility, only a vulnerable sincerity.

“How’s that for an apology?” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You lick your lower lip, having to suppress a dreamy sigh as you could taste him on your tongue. “Surprising.” You say softly, completely smitten all of a sudden.

He smirks, eyes scanning your face. “I’ve never seen you so bashful,”

“Yes, well, kissing someone who you thought was your enemy tends to have that effect.”

He chuckles, lifting his hand and tucking some hair that was dancing in the soft breeze behind your ear. “How about another one?”

You grin, leaning in close. “I won’t say no to that.”

Masterlist is pinned ♥️

Tags: @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @the-bad-batch-baroness

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894

[bluesgrxce]

Yandere (machine-ish?) Connor Headcanons

I love soft deviant Connor like anyone else does, but machine Connor is sooo,,, omgggggggg..... I've been holding in my thoughts about him for so long that it's unhealthy. So I went for a Hannah Montana best of both worlds kinda thing. What if Connor acted like a deviant around you, but a machine towards everyone else?

How this happens is something I can't quite explain. Connor probably couldn't, either. To everyone else, an android is either a machine or a deviant-- There's no such thing as an inbetween. He would have agreed with this prior to bonding with you. You probably treated him in a way that nobody else did, sympathizing with him on a deeper level or making him question his morals, so he can see why that would push him to deviancy. 

But when you're not around, all those overwhelming emotions he felt just fade away. The mission goes back front and center to his priorities. He only feels two things at that point: confusion that runs his LED wild and desire for you that makes his thirium pump pound even when he's not in motion. Nobody else can bring about such reactions within him. 

He runs plenty of diagnostic checks in an attempt to figure out what's wrong with him. At one point, he'll try to avoid you and force himself into staying a machine, but that just makes him less efficient because he'll constantly worry about you instead. 

He would eventually accept himself as a deviant, but only so he wouldn't have to take orders from Cyberlife anymore. He doesn't want anything standing between the two of you. But he still largely acts like a machine and he doesn't mind that at all. He just sets his new mission to making you entirely his... 

Even once Connor sees his emotions as real, it's still his natural instinct to mask them. Especially negative ones like anger, sadness, and jealousy. He wouldn't want to show them unless they benefit his situation somehow, such as if he wanted to persuade or intimidate you/others. Emotions only matter to him if they're useful. 

For example, he *does* feel the desire to show affection towards you, and he will do it. He'll compliment you whenever you do something admirable. He'll reassure you and show geniune worry whenever you're upset about something. He'll even study romance media just to learn how to act more natural in the relationship (He thinks that'll help him act more natural, anyway... Lord help you if he gets his hands on Twilight 💀 But if the Bryan Dechart Twilight commercial is anything to go off of, he'd look good as a vampire, at least). 

But he doesn't do that stuff simply because he loves you. He does it because he knows your relationship benefits from it and you'll likely leave him if you feel neglected. He wouldn't bother if he knew it wouldn't keep you around. So if your relationship isn't exactly consensual in the first place, well... 

Which makes him sound pretty manipulative, right? You have no idea. 

Connor's android abilities give him a terrifying amount of advantages as a yandere. The first thing is that he always analyzes you when you enter the room, even though that often means analyzing you multiple times a day. It never bores him because he always manages to discover something new. Sometimes he'll blurt out random comments and you'll have to do a double take because he makes it easy to forget that he's obsessed with you.

"Your birthday is coming up soon. You might already know I'm aware of that type of information, but you should still bring it up with me. Otherwise I'll have to start believing I can't trust you and I'll have to make my own investigations." 

"Your heart rate goes up every time I touch you like this. I didn't realize physical contact was so important to human relationships. Don't worry, I won't stop. I won't let anyone stop me."

"Your serotonin levels are at an all-time low... Clearly, it can't be my fault, since I've done everything I am sure a good boyfriend would do. I'd like you to be honest when you tell me what's wrong this time."

The red flags fly higher as time goes on. He'll stop talking about all these observations if you tell him to, but he'll keep analyzing you anyway. 

Connor is enamoured with your DNA, as well. It helps him feel closer to you, which can often be difficult for him since he's not human. So if it belongs to you, and it can fit, it's going in his mouth. He'll do gross shit like keep your used lollipop sticks in his pocket so he can sample them whenever he wants. There's only one emotion he can't feel no matter what you do: shame. 

The invasive behavior doesn't stop there. He'll invite himself into your home and go through your things. He'll keep asking questions and trick you into revealing more information about yourself than you should. Knowing everything there possibly is to know about you gives him a stronger feeling of control for a single reason...

Your chance of escape plummets as he learns more about you, because it allows him to predict your behavior. He'll get scary accurate if you let him get close to you. This mostly benefits him in situations where he believes you want to leave him, or you did leave him, so he can figure out what you plan to do/already did and find the best method to get you back. If you already did leave, he'll examine your recent whereabouts like it's a crime scene and use his reconstruction ability. Even if you're insanely careful, he'll probably find a clue that'll lead him to you.

But sometimes he'll do it in normal situations, too, just as a silent guessing game. For instance: '(Y/N) will enter the police station at 8:18AM. I'm waiting for them at the entrance, so they'll greet me, but speed-walk away and avert eye contact. They'll head into the break room at 8:19AM and pretend to look around a bit, so Gavin won't make fun of them when they go for the same snack they always do. Gavin will make fun of them anyway and they'll argue for two minutes. Then--'

He has to stop thinking so he can greet you when you enter the building. Exactly at 8:18AM. He smirks to himself, only to drop into a frown when he hears Gavin's distant obnoxious laughter afterward. 

Remember how Connor once analyzed Hank's food and advised him against eating it? He does stuff like that to you all the time. And if you actually take the advice he gives, he'll take that as an opportunity to become more controlling. Oh, but only for the sake of your health, of course...

"You know, you shouldn't sit in that type of position. Bad posture can lead to health issues later on in life." "Then how should I sit?" "...It'll be easier if I show you." 

And so he'll help re-position you, using that as an excuse to touch you. He would especially do this if you weren't yet in a relationship, because he knows that as the type of android he is, he doesn't have a good reason to do so. The touch only lasts a brief moment. It's not inappropriate at all, and his grip was quite gentle. But it's weird that he went out of his way to do in the first place and that's all you might need to feel uncomfortable about it. 

But a lot of that is based off of the assumption that you're human. If you're an android, he still manages to find invasive things to do against your will. For one thing, he loves probing your memory. It's already difficult to lie to him and get away with it, but that might make it impossible, depending on what you're lying about. He doesn't care that it's an invasion of privacy and will do it if he finds a good excuse to do so.

Connor keeps an eye on your stress level and uses it to his advantage. He prefers to use persuasion when convincing you to do something, (he knows how to negotiate, after all) but he'll ultimately turn to intimidation if necessary. Which means heading straight into interrogation mode. 

This won't happen unless you're extremely rebellious, but if it does, he doesn't hold back. He'll treat you like you're a sick criminal, yelling at you, pushing blame and guilt onto you, and using physical force. 28 stab wounds type shit. He would avoid raising your stress level to 100% since he knows it could drive you to do crazy things, but that still doesn't make his actions okay. 

Even if you're really sensitive to that sort of treatment-- hell, even if you have some kind of trauma related to it-- he pushes away what little guilt he feels. He promises not to do it again "as long as you don't force me to." Actually, though, it encourages him to do it more. He knows it works against you now. 

His abilities don't stop there. He can mimic your voice using his vocal imitation, and all the voices of your loved ones, too. He went out of his way to meet them all, just in case he needs to trick you in the future. He likes being prepared. 

There are times when he's alone and he'll say stuff in your voice just so he can hear what it would sound like, such as, "I love you, Connor." Once again, he doesn't feel shame. Even if that seems pathetic. 

Let's just say it now. You cannot physically fight back against him. Maybe you'll have a chance if you're an android, but he knows about his advantage very well. He won't hesitate to remind you if you try getting aggressive. But even if you manage to get rid of him once, there's another model waiting to take his place. 

On a related note... I hope you never meet RK900. We only saw that guy for a minute, he said absolutely nothing in that minute, but the whole fandom has agreed that he's a menance. I fully agree. RK900 is definitely different from Connor, but they still have just enough similarities for him to get attached to you, too. Get help while you still can. 

The video of Bryan Dechart dancing as Connor lives rent free in my mind. I watch it on repeat like an iPad kid watching Friday Night Funkin' YouTube Kids videos. My brain just melts and I can't think of anything else. No, this isn't me simping for Bryan Dechart. This is me wanting Connor dancing to be canon. A girl can dream.

[objectumnonsense]

robot oneshot, as requested VwV

The lab was dark, save for the dim neon light filtering in through the curtains and a singular work lamp in the corner of the room. Every few minutes, a train passed overhead, making the ceiling groan with the weight, but it was otherwise quiet. The lab's only two occupants sat without speaking, one in maintenance mode on a table and the other wearing thick, elbow-length rubber gloves and wielding a variety of delicate tools.

The Mechanic worked diligently and in near silence, save for softly humming a tune and occasionally blowing their hair out of their face while they worked on SN-0407-67. The only sounds coming from 67 were the hum of its fans and the occasional buzz of a wire being put in the wrong place, quickly corrected by the Mechanic.

After about half an hour, the Mechanic said, in a voice rough with disuse, "Exit maintenance mode," and a line of small lights blinked to life on the back of 67's neck. Its shutters flicked open and it turned its head right around to face the Mechanic.

"Is there a problem?" it buzzed.

"Well, I don't wanna catastrophize, but I'm lookin' through your lower back complex and I'm seein' some stuff that looks an awful lot like buzz bug eggs. Can you run a diagnostics check for me real quick?"

"Affirmative." In a blink of its shutters, it received data from all of its main systems and most of its secondary and tertiary programs and responded.

"Small loop errors in primary memory arrays. Minimal damage to recursive power wiring. Buzz bugs may be a possibility. Suggestion: analyze sample of offending material."

"Will do. Wanna go back to sleep?"

"Negative. We are almost done, correct?"

"If this don't turn out to be an infestation, yeah. What's got you so eager to leave?"

"Nothing. I simply do not enjoy being in maintenance mode for extended periods of time."

"Oh? Why's that?"

67 turned back around and allowed the Mechanic to pry open its back panel and delicately reach through its wiring with a pair of tweezers.

"I dislike being unaware of my surroundings for so long. It is against my purpose."

"It's necessary though, ain't it?"

"As is sleeping. But you are avoiding that now."

"Fair 'nuff."

The silence returned for a few minutes. The Mechanic extricated some pieces of material from 67's wiring and the gaps in their chassis while it sat perfectly still and nearly silent.

Abruptly, a small yellow light on their shoulder lit up and they said, "Your heart rate and breathing have increased."

"Huh?"

"Are you in distress? Is the infestation worse than you expected?"

"Oh, no, nothin' like that. If this is buzz bugs, we caught 'em real early. I could probably get all of this outta you before dawn."

"That is good."

They continued without speaking for a few moments more, the yellow light still turning on and off rhythmically, before 67 spoke up again.

"Your heart rate has not decreased."

"And I suppose I can't ask you to ignore that?"

"Negative. It is against my purpose."

"Right. First aid robot."

The Mechanic pursed their lips and tried to continue their work, but 67 kept talking.

"You hands are shaking slightly. Allow me to check your blood sugar content."

Before the Mechanic could respond, 67 had already completed the check.

"Blood sugar content within healthy range. Brain scan indicates higher than normal levels of oxytocin. Heart rate and breathing rate are increased, but have plateaued."

"Can't keep anythin' secret from you, huh?"

"Negative. You have poor control over your responses to emotion."

"Well, can't say I didn't try."

"Correct. You are still avoiding telling me the reason for your heightened emotional state."

"Would it hurt so bad to let this one go unmentioned?"

"A key to maintaining healthy relationships is communication between constituents. I am curious why you are acting differently."

"It's... complicated. It's a human thing."

"Mechanic, "human things" are my area of expertise. I will understand whatever you tell me."

"I just..." They sighed, but set their tweezers aside and brushed their fingers along a piece of 67's circuitry. "Can you feel this? When I'm workin' on you?"

"To an extent, yes."

"And does it... hurt?"

"Not unless something is damaged. It feels almost the same as when my exterior is touched."

"Almost?"

"There is a level of... trust involved. I trust that you will not break me, you trust that I will not close myself or shock you to injure you."

"When I do this..." the Mechanic traced the column of 67's spine with their index finger, "what is that like?"

"I fail to see why you are asking me again. Did I not just explain it?"

"I know, I know, just.. tell me what you feel me doin'."

"Alright."

A moment's pause.

"I feel you touching the outer shell of my spine. It holds much of my central processing power, which is why it's covered by thick metal plating. But I know you will not try to damage it."

"And now?"

"Now you're moving towards my power cell. It's a very powerful battery, and very fragile. But you will not damage it."

"Now?"

"You're reaching up through my chest cavity towards my transform arrays. This is where most of my proprioceptive senses are processed. It's also highly sensitive to touch. But you will not damage it."

The Mechanic let out a shaky sigh. The blinking yellow light on 67's shoulder began flashing more quickly. They noticed it was in time with their heartbeat.

"Your breathing and heart rate have increased steadily. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

They abruptly pulled their hand out of 67's back and stammered an apology.

"Sorry, I'm - sorry, that - that was kinda weird. I shouldn'ta -"

"It was not unpleasant."

Their words ground to a halt and they stared at the back of 67's head.

"You... motherfucker, you knew this whole time, didn't you?"

67 made a beep that sounded like a laugh.

"Negative. I only realized when I scanned you."

The Mechanic leaned their head against 67's shoulder with a clunk.

"And I couldn't get you to delete this whole interaction from your memories?"

"Negative."

The Mechanic sighed again and leaned back, rubbing their temples.

"Well, that's about it for your checkup anyways. We should probably get goin'."

"Mechanic, I would not refuse if you wanted to take this further."

The Mechanic froze. "Whuh?"

"I do not have the capacity to feel it the same way you do. But I understand it would be enjoyable for you. My purpose, after all, is to ease suffering."

"Wh - but - I - I'm not sufferin' about it, I just -"

"Mechanic."

67 rose and walked around the table, standing very close to the Mechanic and resting a careful hand on their hip. They swallowed thickly.

"We are the only ones in here. We have time."

The Mechanic let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. They raised a hand to 67's face plate and brushed their thumb along it.

"You're amazin', you know that? Just... incredible."

"I know," 67 replied, a playful lilt in its voice. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any point."

"Alright."

67 stepped even closer so that one of its legs was between both of the Mechanic's and they had to lean back against the table. One of their hands rested on 67's shoulder and the other settled on its hip.

67 hooked a thumb over the Mechanic's waistband and tugged down. Its other hand worked its way up their shirt and cupped their chest. It leaned its head down and bonked it gently on the top of theirs.

"Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

"Affirmative."

"You're such a dork."

67 hummed. Its movements remained smooth and steady, but the Mechanic distinctly heard its cooling fans pick up when it tugged their underwear aside.

"Could it be you're enjoyin' this too, 67?" they purred, lifting the hand that was on its shoulder to the back of its head, where they brushed over some of the exposed wires there. Its lower shutter twitched upwards.

"You do look... very nice. Under me like this."

"Mmm. Kinky." They spread their legs further and gasped when 67's searching hands found their bare skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. It's just been a while. Go slow."

"Understood."

Gently, 67 started working its hand, and the Mechanic let out a quiet groan. They rolled their hips into 67's touch, grip tightening on its neck and making its shutter twitch again.

"Is - fuck - is that hurtin' you?" they asked.

"Negative."

"Want me to - to stop?"

"Nnegative."

At the stalling of 67's voice, the Mechanic raised an eyebrow. "Is it gettin' you off or s-something?

"N N N N - Unsure. My proproprocessor has encountered an error."

Experimentally, the Mechanic chose a wire and tugged on it - not enough to break it, but with enough force to pull it partially out of line. 67 jolted forward, making a buzzing sound the Mechanic had never heard before, and its hand dug harshly into their flesh, making them gasp.

"Arrre you alright?" it asked, stopping all motion. The Mechanic whined and pushed against its hand.

"Don't stop," they pleaded.

"One moment. I nnneed to check -"

The Mechanic tugged on the same wire again, creating the same reaction, and sighed with satisfaction.

"Memememechanic," 67 scolded, though the effect was somewhat lost due to the skipping in its voice.

"Keep goin'. I didn't tell you to stop."

"Make me."

The defiance caught the Mechanic off guard, but only for a moment. They glared up at 67.

"Y'know, you're real disobedient for a robot," they growled, finding a different wire and wrapping it around their finger. 67's shutters closed completely this time, its entire body jerking randomly for a moment before the Mechanic let the wire go again. "I thought you were s'posed to follow directions?"

"Youyouyou haven't said the magic word yet," 67 replied, though their hand had begun to move again.

"Make me cum, 67. That's an order."

"Affirmativvve."

The Mechanic cried out at the dizzying pace 67 suddenly set, hips rocking helplessly into its touch. Its name flowed from their lips like a hymn. 67 bore down on them, chest pressed to theirs, free hand supporting their back so they didn't fall.

"Yesyesyesyes, just like that, yes -!"

With a drawn-out moan, the Mechanic came hard, slumping back so that 67 had to adjust its hold on them, completely at its mercy as it kept up the harsh pace of its hand. It slowed to a stop the moment the feeling became too much and their groans of pleasure turned into whimpers.

The pair stayed like that for a moment, the Mechanic struggling to catch their breath and clinging to 67, whose fans were still going at top speed. It stared adoringly down at them, privately recording a short clip to replay later.

"Holy shit," the Mechanic finally breathed, pushing themself upward off of 67's arm. "That was... wow."

"I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yeah. Jesus Christ. Are you... can I - is there anythin' I can do for you?"

"Negative. No part of me can experience anything close to sexual arousal, but I appreciate the consideration."

"So, just outta curiosity, what were the wires doin' to ya?"

That gave 67 pause.

"I'm... unsure. It's not a sensation I've ever felt before."

"Was it bad?"

"Negative. It was... novel. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"So what... would it be okay if I did it again?"

Another pause.

"...Affirmative. Please be careful."

"You know careful's my middle name."

The Mechanic lifted both of their hands and rested them on 67's neck. One slid its fingers over the exposed wires, still slightly out of place, making 67 beep and twitch.

"Why don't you try tellin' me what you feel?" they purred, finding a wire and winding it around their finger. 67 took a moment to respond, its voicebox making nonsense sounds before it could gather it to something intelligible.

"I I I I feel... dizzzzy? I think that wiwiwire has a role in proprioceptive data transfer. It's hard to to to to rrrecall at the moment."

"Mmm. And what about now?" the Mechanic asked, parting the wires and reaching deeper into 67's neck. They felt their finger make contact with cool metal, and 67 made a long, low tone until they lifted it.

"My my my my my centrrrral spinal casinnnnng. It's very sensensensitive to touch, which is is is why it's underrrrneath everything ellllse."

"You're startin' to sound pretty rough, 67."

"Hard to to to prrrocess speech at the momoment. Unsure how to parrrrse sensory dadadadata."

"Still don't want me to stop?"

"Affirrrmative. Want you you you touch furrrrther in me."

"Fuck, that's hot."

The Mechanic moved upward this time, under the plating on the back of 67's head with a muttered "keep your head down." 67's head briefly dropped limply downward, chin hitting its chest with a dull thunk, before the Mechanic hastily removed their hand and it looked back up at them.

"Why did you you stop?"

"That wasn't bad?"

"Negative. Want morrre."

"Oh, I see how it is." They resumed their probing, 67's head falling again, its voice struggling to express exactly what it was feeling.

"Hannnds in my in me touch ch ch ch mind feel I feel your hands," it managed, and the Mechanic bit their lip, looking up at it with adoration in their eyes.

"God, you sound fuckin' wrecked. I wish I knew I could do this to you sooner," they confessed. 67's optic flickered.

"Want want hands want touch morrre so so so much so want want want wannnnnnt -"

Abruptly, its voice dropped so low it was almost a buzz, its optic blinking out, hands in a vise grip on the Mechanic's hips while the lights on its body turned off all at once. Its fans continued on high for a moment more before they lowered to a more normal level and a noise like a dial-up played.

"Shit."

The Mechanic waited nervously while 67 rebooted, slowly releasing their hips before its optic blinked back to life, immediately zeroing in on them.

"Are you okay? Did I touch something I shouldn't've?"

"Negative. I am still processing. Please give me a moment."

After a second or two, 67 spoke again.

"Last sensation recorded before shutdown: foreign object inside cranial casing. Pressure applied to central tactile nerve. Systems overwhelmed." It blinked. "No memory lost. I am in no pain."

"So that tactile nerve thing -"

"I felt... everything. It's hard to explain."

"I think I get it. Don't worry."

"It was... good. I felt good. I would like to do this again sometime."

"Is right now a good sometime? 'Cause that was fuckin' hot."

67's optic widened slightly, disbelief creeping into its voice.

"Causing a temporary shutdown... made you aroused again?"

"It was more like making you get there. But yeah."

"Interesting. In that case..."

67 opened the maintenance panel on its chest, exposing a crisscrossing maze of wires and circuits to the Mechanic, who practically drooled.

"Help yourself to me."