#the cable is malfunctioning

[balkanradfem]

Eyy we did it!

This was the first batch of tomatoes, and they were very beautiful, so I traded them. I brought them to a nice woman as a gift, and in return she gifted me some clothing, and some new bedsheets, with little whales on them! I am loving the no-money trade and my new bedsheets, imagine if you could just grow food and trade it for anything else you need.

[girlneevil]

[ms-demeanor]

In the most bugfuck thing I've seen in a while, today a customer brought in a homebrew displayport cable with their malfunctioning computer.

He'd plugged in a monitor, got no sound, and decided to reinstall windows to fix the sound. When that erased all his documents, he brought it in to fix, and brought in his old and new monitor and the cable he used.

[jojomiwbvb6]

Author's note: I thought this blurb up tonight and knew you guys will eat it up bc bitch, me too. (Yes the title is inspired by INK, but it fits)

The Shower Scene

Warnings: this is a work of fiction. NSFW, MDNI. Smut (18+) Swearing, voyeurism, descriptive, masturbation

Part 2 / Part 3

You had a long day on tour. Load-in was exhausting. Every time you turned around, at least one mechanism had a glitch or a cable went haywire. At least 2 malfunctions during the concert that they spent 10 minutes fixing. By the time load-out commenced, you were flat on your face and crawling to the bus.

The Bad Omens bus was as homey and fun as they could make it on the road. Tomorrow they had a day off in Denver, Colorado, and decided to venture the city for the day. As the bus pulled up to their nightly hotel, the crew, including you, and the band gathered their bags and got ready to depart the bus.

"Dude, I'm so ready to lay in that goddamn bed, I'm so fuckin' tired," Ruffilo commented.

"Fuck yeah, Albuquerque fucked me up." Folio responded.

"I'm gonna take the hottest fucking shower. The devil himself wouldn't be able to take the heat." You said.

This earned a chuckle from a few of the guys around you.

Noah walked up behind his bandmates. His face was calm, devoid of having any idea of what he could be thinking. He briefly ran his eyes over you, quickly looking away into the shadows.

Noah was always so cool, calm, and collected. He was so talented and funny and so, so fine. Of course you would never tell him how much you would say yes to him bending you over if he asked for it.

--

Holding your key in hand, you walk down the stale smelling hallway until you reach your door. You slide the key card into the slot, the door clicks, and you let yourself in.

You're looking at the floor before observing the room, rolling your suitcase into the door. You notice the light is already on and-- "oh my fucking god dude, you scared the shit out of me!"

Noah smirks and gives you a laugh. "Good,"

You blush, and quickly look for something else to look at.

"I know that normally we wouldn't room together," he paused, maybe noticing I was holding my breath. But he continued, "But the hotel was short a room, and we got stuck together last minute." He stopped again.

You nodded, trying to act like you normally do.

"If you're uncomfortable..." He began to say, unsure.

"No, Noah. Not at all. We bunk in the same bus. It's not like we're sleeping together."

There was a small silence that carried on slightly too long.

"Mmm. So, Imma take a shower," you said, ending the conversation with the man you were desperately trying not to want for the sake of your job.

You enter the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes. The door locked behind you, you stare at it and begin to overthink. The tension in your stomach gets you hot when you get the idea. You slowly unlock the door, slowly and silently turning the door handle and leaving the door cracked just a little.

The hot water hits your skin, steam rising into the air. You look at the door, there's nothing there. You shrug. It wouldn't work anyway, there's no way he's even gonna notice.

--

Noah looks down at his phone.

Hey, come get a drink downstairs, we at the bar.

The text from Davis lights up his phone. He texted back,

Yup be down in a minute dude.

Noah gets up from his bed and makes his way to the door, approaching the bathroom. He slows his tracks. Noticing that you had accidentally left the door cracked, Noah reaches out and goes to close the door. He looks up and just by accident, he gets a glimpse of the whole side of you.

You're closing your eyes, caressing yourself with the soap running down your breasts and to your hips. Everything all on display.

He knows that he should look away from you, but my God, the way your hands rub at your skin, his breath hitches and he's glued to his position.

--

After a few minutes of showering, you'd given up the small ounce of hope you had that your nasty fantasy faded and you began to really take a shower.

You applied the soap to your chest and stomach, rubbing the loofah against your skin. You scrubbed at your legs, and then when you glanced up, you almost didn't catch the tall silhouette in the shadow of the hotel room behind him. You did a double take, to make sure he was what you were seeing, and he was.

Your breath picked up. Smirking, you bit your lip and turned away from him. He didn't need to speak, and neither did you. He didn't have to know that you saw him, if he couldn't tell you did. No one in the band or crew needed to know he was in that door frame looking at your wet, naked body. And it's what you wanted.

You began to make every movement you made sexually charged. Pulling your hands over your breasts, you tugged on your nipples. Your fingers caressed and played with your breasts, rubbing the soap into them.

Dragging your fingers down to your navel, you squirmed. How much of a show did you want to give Noah? You decided you wanted him to remember just how hot you got with him standing there.

Not yet looking at him, you turn your back to the door. Rubbing your hands into your ass cheeks, gripping and spreading them only slightly. You bent over as you did this, sure to give him a little sneak peak of what you want him to see very soon.

You see his silhouette shift in the door over your shoulder, just knowing you have him right where you want him.

You turn around, finally letting your hand slide further down, and leaning against the back shower wall, you raise your leg to the ledge of the bath. You finally allow him your gaze and look at him completely as you spread your legs and sink your fingers into yourself, letting a small moan fall from your mouth.

You hear a quiet "Fuck," from the doorway and see his long, tatted fingers grip the door frame, revealing his presence from the shadows.

"Mm. I knew you were there," you said very quietly. He gave no response. You didn't look at him, continuing your movements into your pussy and letting Noah drink in every stroke and buck into your hand.

You continued to fuck onto your hand, gaining confidence under his silent watch. You turned your back to him again, bending over and putting your entire pussy on display for his viewing pleasure. Reaching underneath you, you begin rubbing yourself at a fast pace, small moans falling out of your mouth. You buck back on your hand again when you sink two fingers into yourself. You see Noah's fingers gripping the trim and more of his hand appears from the dark.

You gave him another treat by moaning "fuckkkk," and crying out. You swear you hear a growl from the doorway. The hand falls, palming a desperate hard on, but there's no way he wants what he is seeing to stop.

This was way too hot.

You took your fingers from your heat and placed them in your mouth, looking directly at the doorway. Dragging your hand over your pussy again, you finally lock eyes with his dangerous glinting eyes in the dark.

You insert a finger. "Oh, fuck," you smirk and tease as you talk. You look away, and pretending Noah isn't even there, you put in another finger. "Mmm..." And one more finger, you're brave enough to sigh, "Noahhh..."

At that, he storms into the bathroom. It's no longer a "secret" that he was standing there. His eyes are wicked and wild with a starving desire and he doesn't even hide the hard rise in his sweats. You're so hot and wet already, but it makes you tremble that he's here and has his eyes on your spread heat.

"Fuck..." You trail, gasping through your self assault that you didn't even stop when he surprised you with his barging in. You gasp, a moan coming out through your sentence. "Don't speak. Don't do anything. Just watch me, Noah. Fucking watch me... Please."

He does as you ask. He latches and locks the bathroom door, leaning back on the sink. Noah doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch himself, but his eyes feast on every single inch of you that's available to him.

You continue to touch and tease your body. Your fingers move faster and your heat is wetter with his presence in the room. Your moans are quiet but just loud enough for his ears. You see him run his eyes down your body with a slow lick of his lips.

Under his gaze, your fingers begin to move faster and your gasps come quicker. You're curling your fingers against that spot inside you, arching your back and giving him the best show possible.

"Ah, ah, ah," you chant, "Noah, fuck," you give to him, earning a small and satisfactory "mm." From Noah.

Your eyes roll back. Your hands are making your head spin and your stomach clench under his eyes as you rub your clit and bite your lip. His eyes never give way and stay locked on you. Sparks shoot through your body and your gasps never end. You see stars, your juices flowing down your legs. You're crumpled against the wall and panting.

Noah doesn't speak. He gives you one last burning, hot look, soaking the whole sight and everything that just happened into his mind.

He smirks at you, unlocks the door, and without saying a single word to you, he leaves the bathroom.

--

Noah. Dude. Thought you were coming down?

Text from Davis again.

Sorry man, I accidentally passed out for a minute. Be right there.

[tellerluna-stories]

veneration.

PAIRING: scaramouche x reader

GENRE: canon-compliant. belligerent romantic tension, flirting but not quite flirting, the trope of helping the other get ready for an important event.

TW/CW: slight spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (although it was literally revealed in the livestream so idk if it counts as spoilers).

A/N: boo, I'm alive (sort of.) I can't believe I'm writing for emo pinocchio, much less simping for him (yes, @x-zho and @byeol-ssi you read that correctly),,,, but HEY IF THIS DRABBLE GETS ME OUTTA BURNOUT DEPRESSION Y NAT COCONUT

"How fares your one follower, Lord Harbinger?"

The Balladeer pauses in the middle of what he's doing, a tangle of energy tubes falling around his ankles like an undignified noodle dish. Your voice is carefully, perfectly even, your eyes steadily fixed on your book as if nothing was the matter.

"Haypasia? Well, she's the first of many to come, so of course she is someone of great prestige in my eyes."

He enjoys the faint flicker in your eyes, choking back a taunting smile as your grip tightens on your book. To say that he held affection for you would be staunchly denied, but there was nothing Scaramouche delighted in more than to wear your nerves out.

"As she should be. Never forget the service she has done you, sir."

"And what of the service you owe me?" He retorts. "I don't recall summoning you here just so you could sit and recite pretty words to me while I do all the work."

An exasperated sigh and a slight rustle as you get up from your chair, followed by the echoing sound of your footsteps as you began climbing the stairs to the head of his soon-to-be divine vessel. "I had assumed that you wouldn't want my assistance until I was called for."

"I'm sure Haypasia would have willingly volunteered to assist me." Scaramouche remarks idly, tracing a finger along the polished metal. "When it comes to loyalty to me, I'm sure that that girl is second to none."

Silence, just as expected. Your face is pristinely neutral when you reach the top of the stairs and place the book on the floor, but he knows better; he knows how the blood surges in your veins in not-quite-jealousy, how the air catches in your throat at the thought of someone being better devoted to him.

Up until now, the Balladeer had had a hard time finding an edge over your nonchalant nature, with any sharp jabs left blithely ignored or rebutted, with no room for nonsense— for out of all the people who dared test their bravery by working with him, you were one of the few who had remained mostly unaffected by his short temper.

But with a certain researcher in the equation, it seems that he had a new — and most entertaining — way to push your buttons.

"You shouldn't have tangled up the tethers like this, sir." You kneel down to untangle the mess of cables at his already-tethered feet, your hair falling forward to conceal your face. "The Doctor would not be pleased if something were to malfunction tomorrow due to something as minor as this."

He stands stock-still as your hands trace along the length of his arm, searching for where to attach the cables to his wrists and shoulders, your fingertips brushing against his back as you check for any loosened tethers; to an outsider, it would seem that you were merely performing the duties of a faithful assistant. But every move and word was choreographed, designed to bring out your true intentions under the guise of professionalism.

"Tell me," The Balladeer asks, a taunting lilt to his voice. "What sort of book are you reading that distracts you from my glory?"

"Just something I picked up in the Grand Bazaar." You reply, and soft hands brush against the sides of his neck, reaching to safely tether him to his vessel. "A book of short essays and poetry, written by some obscure but well-read author."

"What sort of poetry?" Scaramouche keeps his gaze locked on yours, pretending to be unaffected by the way your arms enclosed the air around him, the close proximity between the two of you. The fun part of the game was to never reveal your hand of cards, after all.

"The usual; some about life, or loss. The seasons, and some about places the author had been to." Your eyes briefly flicker to meet his. "Love poems, too."

He cannot help but smirk, knowing full well at what you were playing at; the two of you had an unspoken agreement, a mutual push and pull as you aimed to tear each other's heartstrings out and have the other dancing in the palm of their hand. "Care to recite one, then? I'd like to see if you can actually spew pleasant words for once."

"If that is what the Lord Harbinger wishes," was your response, your gaze drifting away to focus on adjusting the tethers on his hands and wrists one last time. "There is one piece that I particularly enjoy; allow me to retrieve my book so that I may read that to you."

You were clever— he had to admit as much. This very well could have been your plan all along, to grab his attention with a book that you were certain would make an impression on him; he would not put it past you to have made such a bold plan.

But since the Balladeer was soon to achieve his lifelong goal, he was feeling generous tonight— he would indulge your little schemes for today, just this once.

"Ah, here it is." You straighten up, the pages rustling as you flip to the correct page. "This essay is rather long, but this particular excerpt is my favourite."

Scaramouche watches as you begin to pace back and forth aimlessly, your lips parting to take a deep breath in preparation... and he waits. He waits for the next move in the chess game, for his turn to come.

"Look up to the stars, and remember the light in my eyes." One finger traces idly along the page, your eyes following it intently as if to bore a hole through the paper. "Look to the east, the rosy dawn, and think of my lips, sweetened with the honey of memories with you."

"But furthermore, evermore, I beg of you, my darling..." Your feet shift to wander towards him, stepping closer and closer till you were only a few paces away from where he stood.

"...Look at me and only me forevermore." You recited, tilting his head upwards with the edge of your book, your warm breath fanning his cheeks as you leaned ever-closer. "Are these the sort of words you'd like to hear from me, Lord Harbinger?"

"Hah." A chuckle escapes his mouth before he can stop himself— really, truly, this was all too entertaining! "That all depends on what I am to you."

"What I am to you is the same as what you are to me." For the first time that evening you smiled, a mirror of the same smile he had now; the air of both challenge and taunt hidden behind the guise of a pleasant expression. "I wish you good luck on your promotion tomorrow, Lord Harbinger."

[macabr3-barbi3]

Entanglement (Sub Vox x Reader)

A request from the lovely @jurijyuu for a tentacle malfunction Sub Vox 💕📺

Tags: Restraints; Light Bondage; Sub Vox; Teasing; Begging; Dom/sub Undertones; Tentacles? Sort of? are Vox's cable/wire things tentacles? the world may never know

💙❤️💙❤️💙

Who could have guessed that trying to do something nice for his doll could have resulted in something like this?

Vox had been waiting for you to finish up with Velvette for the shoot that was happening this evening. He knew after hours of the fucked up poses that Vel forced you into to get the perfect shot you would be sore- she had had you hanging by your knees from the fucking chandelier on one occasion, insisting that the slight sway to the fixture would result it a cool shot from your camera (it did; that wasn’t the point). Her favorite photographer, Velvette was always fucking stealing your free time away from him. It was good for business, but bad for his plan of simply keeping you naked in his room at all times for easy access.

He had been laying in the bed, lazily stroking himself just in case you showed up, when the idea struck him to run you a hot bath and light some candles around the room. It shouldn't have been too much longer before you arrived so the candles wouldn’t burn out, and you always enjoyed it when he ‘set the mood,’ whatever that meant. He could probably sell you on fucking before your bath, too- even more deep aches and sweet bruises for the hot water to soothe.

He was too lazy to get up though, so he had snaked out a few of his cables from the back of his head, long and prehensile, a few pairs of them diving into the various drawers in the room searching for the candles and matches and two slithering across the floor towards the bathroom. Had he thought to check the floor for water from his shower a few hours prior before sending two very much electrical tentacles into the room he might have had better luck.

Currently though, his luck was shit. The water found its way into his wires and shorted them out, electrical current traveling all the way through to the base and fucking up the other cables as well; they whipped and snapped across the room in wide arcs and twisting wriggles, and his attempts to grab them from the air and cease the destruction to his room only resulted in his wrists getting tangled up in the mess.

So here Vox had been for the last fifteen minutes or so, restrained by his wrists in the bed and still achingly, frustratingly hard. His cables didn’t so much as twitch when he tries to send some power to them to reverse the entanglement, or when he tugged his arms a bit. His cock does though, and isn’t that something interesting that he doesn’t want to think about right now.

And then like an angel, there’s the sound of the door opening and you coming home. “Baby,” he shouts from the bedroom, and he hears the telltale thump of your camera bag on the kitchen counter. “I could use your help in here!”

“What did you do now? If you cracked your screen off the stand again-” Your voice trails off when you enter the room and see him- he’s sure he looks fucking ridiculous, spread out like he is, and he feels the spread of pink pixels over his screen in a blush.

“I was trying to do something nice for you,” he says, “and got some water in my wires. Everything went haywire, and, well, now I’m here. Be a doll and help me get loose?”

The way you’re watching him is a little disconcerting- not bad by any means, he loved having your eyes on him, just a little unusual. You slide your jacket off your shoulders and toss it on the armchair, sliding your hair out of its bun that you wear to keep your hair out of your eyes while you work. When you go for the button on your jeans he clears his throat.

“I appreciate the strip tease, sweetheart, but there’s more pressing matters at hand here.” He lifts his wrists in demonstration, the wires brushing his skin in a way that makes him suck in a harsh breath, dick twitching in his boxers. “Come on, help me.”

You work your jeans and panties down your legs, his eyes trailing the whole way before settling on the space between your legs. Then your shirt comes off, perfect tits on display as you do a rotation, let him take in the visual of your body in front of him before running your hands down your skin and back up- one hand plucks at a nipple while the other dips down between your legs.

Vox’s mouth is hanging open, pixelated lines of drool coming off his mouth as he watches you, cock throbbing out of his reach. He tugs at his makeshift restraints, a little breathless when it sends a bolt of arousal through his body- seriously, what the fuck? “I am in no mood to be teased right now,” he tells you, but the words are a little reedy and almost whimpered. He clears his throat and tries again- “Seriously, help me.”

You come closer to the bed, climb onto it and settle yourself between his legs. “Come on, Voxxy,” you murmur, and the low, dangerous tone to your voice goes straight to his straining erection despite the use of that fucking nickname that he hated. “Tied up all pretty for me and not even going to say ‘please?’ That’s not how you get what you want.” Your hands run up his calves, up his thighs, and your thumbs brush into the dip of his pelvic bone. Your touch sends electricity crackling through him, static sparking between his antennae. “That’s what you always say anyway- you wouldn’t want to be a hypocrite, would you?” You drag the waistband of his boxers down, and he’s half-mortified when his hips automatically cant up to make it easier for you, his dick slapping heavy onto his abdomen when it springs free.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He can feel the manic grin on his face- confused by the turn of events, by his sweet, perfect doll not simply doing what you were told and, what? Trying to get him to beg? As if- even if it was hot as fuck (and it was, Christ). “Baby, I- ohhhh, fuck-” 

Your head ducked down to lick a stripe up his cock, tongue curling around the head- his hips buck up, try to sink into the wet cavern of your mouth but you pull back with a soft smile. “Say please.”

“Fuck you.” Vox says this affectionately- he was the one in control in the bedroom, this was cute and all, but he wouldn’t plead with you for it.

“Not with that attitude, you won’t be,” you snap back with a wicked grin on your face. And you’re gone again, bent over to lick and suck at the hard length of him with your ass in the air, just the way that he likes.

Again, when he tries to thrust into your mouth you pull off, and he tugs uselessly at his restraints, head falling back against the pillows when you bring a hand up to cup his balls, thumb running gently over the sensitive skin. “Haah- you’re going to fucking kill me.” He’s a little embarrassed by that whiny moan that had escaped him, but you’re not even looking at his face, head resting on his thigh to gaze lovingly at his fucking dick while you stroke and kiss and generally tease him.

Vox thinks he might be losing his mind, just a little. But fuck does he want it, want to lose himself in the wet heat of your mouth, sink deep into your slick cunt and watch you bounce in his lap. He could still do that with his hands restrained, right? He wouldn’t be able to grip your hips the way he wanted to, or get his fingers on your clit and revel in the way that always made you clench tighter around him- but he could make do if you wouldn’t release him.

And there’s the thought that does him in- that maybe you wouldn’t let him go, would keep him tied to the bed with his own goddamn wires to tease him endlessly, unable to do anything about it himself, evidently unable to convince you to do anything for him. He was at your mercy here, the thought making him dizzy with arousal and an unprompted whine falling from his lips when he notices you working your fingers between your legs while you finally let the head of his cock slip past your lips, suction on the tip that makes him see stars.

“P-please,” he breathes out, and you release him with a pop, such excitement lighting up your eyes that he wishes he had given in sooner- you were so beautiful when you were pleased and excited, what would you look like when he gave in to you like this?

You move up the bed, legs on either side of his, and slide your drenched folds against the length of him. Leaning down so your face is next to his, you press a deep kiss to his mouth, slipping your tongue alongside his before you pull back and whisper, “again.” Your hands press into Vox’s chest as you slot him against you, rub the head of his prick against your clit and groan in ecstasy.

His hips jerk at the sensation. “Please, baby,” he says darkly, “let me fuck you.”

“Hmm, not quite what I’m looking for.” You lift off of him, slide back and out of reach again. “Try again?”

“What? Come on, I can’t-” He pulls at his restraints again, and the way your eyes go half-lidded at the sight gets the message through. “You wanna keep me trussed up, is that it?”

“Is it so wrong for the photographer to want to keep a pretty picture on display?” Your fingers twitch between your pretty thighs, grinding tiny circles into your clit while you wait for him to give you what you want. “I wish I hadn’t left my camera in the kitchen; I would love a shot like this. I’d have to get some different lighting…” Your hips stop moving for a moment as you look around the room. “Maybe candlelight would work? I think that would cast a nice glow on your skin, so pretty- fuck, should I go get my camera?”

“No!” The word breaks past the dam of his lips when you use one of his own tricks against him- the threat of ending the pleasure when you’re so fucked out and cock drunk, on the brink of cumming. “No no no, doll, don’t leave- fuck, please, alright? Please touch me, fuck me, ride my cock. I’m fucking begging, I need it-”

A shudder rolls through your body, and finally, finally you sink down on him, a slow, delicious slide that has his fingers clenching uselessly where they’re held, wishing he could hold you, dig his claws in like he usually did.

“I didn’t say stop,” you moan, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Come on, Voxxy, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to stop fucking t͖͖̠̬͛ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅi̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ me-” Your hips slow and Vox bites his tongue, rephrasing- and this time, to his chagrin, the stream of words doesn’t fucking stop. “Please, baby, don’t stop- f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, so fucking good, I w-want- I wanna cum, please, keep going, you f-feel so f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥg̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟ g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓-” An honest to God whimper comes out of him, so invested in both of you cumming that he can’t even find the sense in him to be embarrassed by what was happening. His screen is glitching out, his vision broken when he goes full static every couple of seconds, but the glimpses he’s getting in between of you with your head thrown back are going to fuel his jerk-off sessions when he can’t spend the night with you for the rest of his afterlife. You felt fucking perfect around him, your swollen pussy walls squeezing him just right as you rode him.

“Say please,” you command, fingers working between your legs, the back of your hand brushing against his abdomen and causing the muscles to flutter under you. “Ask me to make you cum- ask for permission and I’ll let you cum in me-”

And didn’t that just sound like the perfect end to the evening? He doesn’t even question it, couldn’t stop his traitorous tongue if he tried. “Please, doll, oh my fucking- please please p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ, let me do it, cum with me-” He feels the tension in his entire body, from his suspended arms to the tips of his goddamn toes- he might actually fully fucking short out, he thinks deliriously, processors overloading in his brain at the sights and sounds and the feel of you sucking him into your greedy body. “- p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ let me, baby- oh f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, I’m gonna-”

You hit the peak of your orgasms together, your body jerking in his lap like you’ve been electrocuted while your cunt wrings him like a fucking towel, tensing and rippling around his cock as he spills into the slickness, long pulses of cum as far inside of you as he can get and its not enough- he can never be close enough to you to feel complete so he settles for filling you with everything he has to give.

Vox doesn’t black out, but its a near thing- the explosion of sudden voltage to his circuits actually jump-starts the core of his cable tentacles and they spring to life, his wrists finally coming free and falling to the bed so he’s spread out like some fucked up crucifixion. They’re numb, he realizes, but before he can get to doing anything about that you shift, reaching for them and massaging feeling back into his limbs. There’s some light bruising, but nothing crazy, not any worse than you had whenever the pair of you occasionally delved into bondage. 

The heavy breathing of you both evens out, and you bring his hands to your mouth to press light kisses to them. When you’re satisfied you release him, and his arms wrap around your back. You press a gentle kiss to his screen and rest your head on his chest. 

“You know,” you mutter into his skin, “technically I didn’t give you permission to cum. That’s gotta count for… something. I’m not sure what.”

He snorts into your hair. “Doesn’t count for shit. You cheated, waiting until I was right on the brink to say that shit.”

You hum, and snuggle closer. “You liked it though? Maybe a repeat in the future?”

His instinct was to say no, but he couldn’t deny that he had enjoyed it- you were a dangerous force in control, something he would maybe have to mention to Velvette so she would let you direct your own goddamn shoots. “We’ll talk about it,” he settles on, still a tad embarrassed by his reaction to the whole thing. “I do think you should have to draw the bath now, though- for both of us, since I think you rode me so hard my thighs have bruises.”

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh into his chest, but you still roll off of him and disappear into the bathroom- the sound of running water fills the room while Vox tries to remember how to make his legs work.

“I better not see that camera in here, either!” He shouts, and your responding giggle brings a smile to his face.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56081230

[randofics]

Thermalis

🎶 Maroon5- she will be loved

Ultra Magnus x reader

18+

-------

Magnus was using his thermals to look over a malfunctioning piece of equipment when your entrance caught his attention. Your vibrant figure stood out against the cold blue of the concrete floor. Even the breath puffing through your nose and mouth had a fleeting heat.

It got colder inside during these winter desert nights. Cold enough for you to constantly wear your old high-school hoodie and leggings.

To his surprise, you weren't wearing the hoodie. Instead, it was tied around your waist, leaving your top half covered in a tank top. He observed your heat signature as you climbed the metal steps to the platform, curious at the way heat seemed to radiate from your belly, chest, and head. Your limbs were a bit cooler, and your fingers even cooler than them.

You noticed him staring and gave him a small smile. "What is it, Magnus?"

Shaking his helm slightly to clear it he hummed in question back at you. "I noticed you staring, so what's up?"

"Ah apologies y/n I noticed you weren't wearing your hoodie."

"Oh yeah, Rachet had me working on some of his equipment earlier. The cooling system was malfunctioning, so I had to wriggle inside where it was still hot to repair a few things. Made me sweat like a racehorse." He nods, remembering his own tech troubles. "I may have a similar problem with this equipment here."

"Really? Well, I can take a look if you want?"

"That would be much appreciated, thank you." He held out his servo for you to hop into and brought you over to the malfunctioning machine. Popping open a side panel, you lay on your back to slide inside all the way to your waist. Magnus observes your arms, moving about as you look over the wires and cables inside. The flashlight between your teeth slips in your concentration and smacks you in the forehead before rolling further inside the machine.

"OW... I sworney! Get back here, ya stupid flashlight!" Magnus quirks a browridge as you feel around for the familiar cylinder of your light. You shift your legs from their side laying position to propped up and spread as you reach further inside. Having forgotten his thermals were still on, the hot signature between your thighs drew in his optics.

He somewhat understood why your torso would be so hot but down there? Cybertronians were usually cold there. As you finally grabbed the light and continued your work, Magnus was staring off into space. His processor wandering. He couldn't help his curiosity in how that warmth would feel against him but remembered that organics were wet and squishy inside. At first, the thought kinda grossed him out, but the longer he thought about it, the stronger his curiosity became till he finally steered his thoughts towards you.

He hadn't been thinking of you specifically, at least not at first, but now he was thinking of how you would feel on his spike. The raunchy thoughts caught him off guard. He shook his helm to dispell them, clearing his vocalizer. A blue blush crossing his faceplate. He needed to distract himself with work. Walking over to his data pad, he turned it on, trying to busy himself with "paperwork."

He couldn't stop his thoughts about you. He wondered how much your temperature would change as he worked you up and how plush your body might be in his servos.

"Something wrong, big guy?" He gives you a strange look. You feel a bit shy under his gaze and trip over your words. "Magnus? Wh-what is it? Why are you... staring at me like that?" He kneals, and you take a step back.

"Your heat signature."

"What about it?" He clears his vocalizer standing straight again. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."

"Okaaay... I'm finished with the repair." He gives you a curt nod, turning back to the screens covered in cybertronian script. "Thank you for your assistance, y/n." Shaking your head, you walk away, not realizing the mech has his optics on you.

He silently watches you leave, finally switching his thermals off so he can see everything in normal color.

-------

The next hour or so was very unproductive for him. He just couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up deciding that a night drive would calm his racing processor. But as fate would have it, he wouldn't be alone.

You jogged into the main room, calling to him as he got ready to transform. "Magnus! Magnus! Wait up!" He qwirked a brow ridge as you huffed from running. "Do you... mind dropping me off at my place?"

"Is Bumblebee unable to?"

"Yeah, he's busy helping Optimus." He nods, transforming in front of you. His driver side door pops open, and you step up inside. With your seatbelt secure around you, he drives through the tunnel.

Raindrops hit his windshield as he passed the giant hidden doors. Puddles had formed in the almost hydrophobic desert soil as an unusual hard rain poured from the heavens. He didn't need to use his wipers, but for the sake of blending in, he turned them on. Several cars passed in the opposite lane, almost backed up for some reason.

You looked farther ahead and spotted the flashing lights of police vehicles. You could see that the road ahead was blocked off by barricades and police cruisers. A large section of road had collapsed in the rushing floodwaters, and no one would be getting through anytime soon.

"Ugh, that's just great! Now, how will I get home?"

"You could accompany me for a drive while I find another way through?"

"Ok, if you're alright with it?" You watch the lights on the radio flash as he speaks. "I have nothing better to do at the moment." He makes a u-turn following the other vehicles through the translucent sheets of rain. A few minutes down the road, he turns onto a dirt one. You can feel his shocks taking the brunt of the worn potholes as he slowly drives through them.

Mud cakes his tires and undercarriage, making it hard to get a good grip on the road. The detour was proving more and more fruitless by the minute. He grunted as his tires spun in a particularly deep wallow. The mud had practically drained from under his tires, leaving him on top of a shelf of mud. His weight now off his tires put pressure on his undercarriage.

In cybertronian, he cursed his steering wheel, turning left and right as he tried to gain enough traction. With that not working, either he partially transforms using different parts to drag himself forward, eventually escaping the deep mud.

"That was deep! I was beginning to wonder if I should call for a wrecker."

"I doubt Bulkhead or Wheeljack would've been much help." You let out a chuckle at his misunderstanding. "No, I mean a wrecker like a vehicle recovery truck. They're mainly used for semi recovery." He grunts in recognition, continuing down the road.

The lights of a main road shine up ahead, and you breathe an unconscious sigh of relief when he rolls onto the asphalt. It's obvious, however, just how much mud is stuck to his tires as he unevenly drives down the road. As you continue looking forward, you spot an empty car wash.

"How about we stop at this car wash so I can spray you down?"

"Agreed, my tires aren't getting enough traction with this mud." He pulls into the semi sized wash bay and cuts his engine. The old car wash only has one working light in this bay, leaving it washed in a dim greenish-blue. Stepping out, you take the pressure washer in hand, immediately starting on his tires. The mud washes away relatively quickly, and before you know it, you're kneeling down, trying to spray his undercarriage clean.

The yellowish lights of an older pickup truck shine across you, and Magnus as a man pulls into the small lot. He parked next to the air pump, stepping out onto the glossy wet pavement. The rain had finally settled down quite a bit.

As you continued your spraying, the man was clearly watching you as he stood there a moment. He suddenly called out to you, gaining your attention. "Hey ma'am! Do you need some help?"

You wiped water from your face as you stood to face him. "No sir, I'm fine, thanks!" The man started walking over when you turned your back to him. Alarms rang in Magnus' processor, so he switched on his holoform. Opening the driver's side door, he stepped out, making eye contact with the approaching man. Immediately upon seeing Magnus, he turned on his heels and walked back to his truck to put air in his tires.

Boots hitting the concrete drew your attention. You were met with an older man, probably in his late forties, his hair just beginning to grey and dressed in battle fatigues. He was clean-shaven and standing with his hands behind his waist as a general would.

"That you Magnus?" He only nods, watching the man as he finally gets back in his truck, driving away. Magnus turns to you as you finish spraying his undercarriage clean. "That feel better?"

"Yes, thank you, y/n." Noticing your slight shivering, he turns on his thermals again. You're a tad colder than you were back at base, and clearly, the spray of the hose dampened your clothes. The cool breeze didn't help much either. After spraying a clean path to his passenger door and cleaning your shoes, you step up inside again.

Glancing at his surroundings, he steps up into the driver's seat. Pulling forward, he drives into the dark, secluded rear of the car wash to park. As you rub your arms in an attempt to get warm, you give him a confused look. His seat slides back as far as possible, and he pats his lap.

"You want me to get in your lap?"

"You're cold, aren't you? It's the least I can do for that wash down." You bite your lip as you think it over. Caving, you clamber over to him, straddling his legs with your hands on his chest. Gently and a bit unsure of yourself, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lay against him. His holoform is warm to your surprise but not as much as a human. You nuzzle into his neck, closing your eyes at the comforting feeling of his presence. Arms wrap around your back, and you let out a content sigh, relaxing your muscles.

He feels your body loosen as your breath tickles his holoform skin. He wraps his arms around you and lets himself relax as well.

-------

A few minutes pass, and you can't help but fidget a little with his uniform buttons. "What are you doing?" His deep voice close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine. And you can feel your body react to him. Gently, you press your lips against his neck, taking him by surprise.

He sucks in a synthetic breath as you place more tender kisses on his skin. "Would it be alright if I switched holoforms?" You pause, leaning back to look him in the eyes. "You have a different holoform?" Now you were curious, would it be this human with different clothes or something else? "I can project a holoform of my true body as well as this human form."

Perhaps he wanted to do this in his true form rather than some human version of himself. It was understandable. You wouldn't want to do something intimate in another body either. You smile and nod, letting him know you were ok with it and his holoform morphs before your eyes.

That familiar blue, red, and silver body sits under you as solid as ever. When you shift in his lap, you brush against his modesty panel, sending a small jolt of pleasure through your nerves. His servos land on your waist, and you press your forhead against his in a sign of affection.

"What would you like me to do next?" His question has you smiling, giving him a soft chuckle. "Just do what feels right, Magnus."

"Mmh, alright then." He takes your jaw in his servo, pulling you in for a kiss. It's gentle at first, both of you unsure about yourselves but slowly you get into a rhythm of sorts. His glossa ran over your teeth, asking for entry, which you obliged. His denta clashed against your teeth as the kiss grew frantic. Subconsciously, you scooted forward, sitting right on his modesty panel. His servo gripped your rear, lifting you slightly as you heard feint clicks. When you sat back down His modesty panel wasn't there anymore instead replaced by a spike of sorts. Rounded and pliable like some kind of silicone covered metal. It was dark charcoal grey with feint blue lights running along it.

A mad blush covers your face and ears as you look back up at him. He also looks nervous and can't keep eye contact with you. "I apologize y/n I didn't mean for that to happen." For once, you can hear nerves in his voice. He's normally so calm and collected much like Optimus.

Gaining confidence at his nervousness, you give him a peck on the lips, sliding off his lap. You strip in front of him all the way down to bare skin. His glowing eyes scan your body in awe as you gingerly slip back into his lap. "You're gorgeous. I don't know any femmies that even come close to your beauty." You almost tear up at his compliments.

He lets his servos roam your skin as he moves to kiss your neck. Small sounds escape your throat as he caresses your abdomen and deftly touches your spine. You position yourself on his spike, moving your hips back and forth to gain some pleasure. He groans in your ear as you rub yourself on him. Your slick leaks on him lubricating him for the next step.

When he breaks away from your neck, you kiss him again and sit up on your knees above him. "Are you certain you want to go through with this?" Your gaze is dark with arousal as you nod to him. You split yourself open, gently aligning him with your entrance as you finally sink down.

He hisses, cursing in cybertronian at the feeling of you around him. You let out a pitiful whine as he stretches you, filling you perfectly. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself as you both stay still for a moment. Relaxing your muscles, you slip just a bit further down to the base of him as he grips your hips tight.

When he attempts to move, you wrap your arms around his neck, gripping one of his ear finials. He moves his servos to your rear, lifting you up only to thrust back into you. Moans quickly flow from your lips as he gets into rhythm. A growl escapes him as he leans forward, getting out of the seat. With you he shimmys to his back cabin, laying you on the folding cot.

He gets on top of you and moves the pillow under your hips before slipping back inside you with a pleasured groan. You let out a gasp when he plunges back in, the different angle providing new pleasure. As he thrusts harder, you lock your legs around his waist and claw at his back plates. You can feel the coil inside you tightening as your muscles squeeze around his spike.

"Magnus... Harder!" Immediately, his hips snap harder into yours, and you feel your coil about to snap. It's only when he whispers to you something in cybertronian gripping the meat of your rear that it finally snaps. You call out his name as your body tenses, waves of white hot pleasure running through you.

He continues moving through your high, letting possesive synthetic growls slip through his vocalizer. An almost inaudible hiss of air meets your ears as your mind clears a bit, and you suddenly feel his girth increase inside you. It stretches you just a bit more, and you already feel another orgasm slowly creeping up on you.

Magnus isn't slowing down yet either as he lifts one of your legs to gain a better angle. His lips attacking your neck again as he chases his own release. His denta nip at your skin, and his glossa runs along your throat, making you shiver.

You feel his arms around you as he suddenly picks you back up, taking a standing position. He thrusts up into you, letting out what you can only guess is cybertronian dirty talk. Nonetheless, it works, and you know you're close to another release. Chanting his name like a mantra, you claw at his back and grip his finials.

"I'm close y/n!" You can't respond only letting moans flow from your lips. With a few more thrusts, he lets out a hiss cursing in cybertronian again as he releases inside you. Heat fills your womb as you squeeze him like a vice. Your legs tighten around him in an attempt to pull him further inside you. You can feel your walls pulse around him as he gently thrusts into you to ride out your high.

Breathing hard, you give him a sleepy smile touching forheads again in affection. He sits back in the driver's seat, letting you lay against him. "Can we stay here for a bit?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes. "I love you, Magnus." His spark swells with joy at that. "I love you as well, y/n."

[cringywhitedragon]

Heads up folks, NicoNicoDouga is currently down due to a large scale cyberattack

The attack happened on the 8th and the site is still down in terms of video streaming. Apparently there were reports of Ransomware being used during the attack.

The site is still “down” but the blog part is back up but from the report, videos and content posted are ok so do not fret. The site is still down as of this post (save for the blog) and it seems they are working their hardest to fix it and do damage control.

Here is a rough translation of their most recent post:

Report and apology regarding cyberattack on our services

As announced in Niconico Info dated June 8th, 2024, Dwango Co., Ltd. (Headquarters: Chuo-ku, Tokyo; President and CEO: Takeshi Natsuno) has been unable to use the entire Niconico service operated by our company since the early morning of June 8th. It has been confirmed that this outage was caused by a large-scale cyberattack, including ransomware, and we are currently temporarily suspending use of the service and conducting an investigation and response to fully grasp the extent of the damage and restore it.

After confirming the cyberattack, we immediately took emergency measures such as shutting down the relevant servers, and have set up a task force to fully clarify the damage, determine the cause, and restore the system. We would like to report the findings of the investigation to date and future responses as follows.

We sincerely apologize to our users and related parties for the great inconvenience and concern caused.

Response history>

Around 3:30 a.m. on June 8, a malfunction occurred that prevented all of our web services, including our "Nico Nico" and "N Preparatory School" services, from working properly. After an investigation, it was confirmed that the malfunction was caused by a cyber attack, including ransomware, at around 8 a.m. on the same day. A task force was set up on the same day, and in order to prevent the damage from spreading, we immediately cut off communication between servers in the data center provided by our group companies and shut down the servers, temporarily suspending the provision of our web services. In addition, since it was discovered that the attack had also extended to our internal network, we suspended the use of some of our internal business systems and prohibited access to the internal network.

As of June 14, we are currently investigating the extent of the damage and formulating recovery procedures, aiming for a gradual recovery.

June 8, 2024

We have begun an investigation into the malfunction that prevented all of our "Nico Nico" services from working properly and the failure of some of our internal systems.

We have confirmed that the cause of the failure was encryption by ransomware. "Nico Nico" services in general and some internal business systems suspended and servers were shut down

A task force was established

First report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 9, 2024

Contacted the police and consulted with external specialist agencies

Kabukiza office was closed

KADOKAWA announced "Regarding the occurrence of failures on multiple KADOKAWA Group websites"

June 10, 2024

Reported to the Personal Information Protection Commission (first report)

Second report "Regarding the situation in which Nico Nico services are unavailable" was announced

June 12, 2024

Reported the occurrence of the failure to the Kanto Regional Financial Bureau (Financial Services Agency)

June 14, 2024

This announcement

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

In addition to public cloud services, Niconico uses private cloud services built in data centers provided by KADOKAWA Group companies, to which our company belongs. One of these, a data center of a group company, was hit by a cyber attack, including ransomware, and a significant number of virtual machines were encrypted and became unavailable. As a result, the systems of all of our web services, including Niconico, were shut down.

This cyber attack by a third party was repeated even after it was discovered, and even after a server in the private cloud was shut down remotely, the third party was observed to be remotely starting the server and spreading the infection. Therefore, the power cables and communication cables of the servers were physically disconnected and blocked. As a result, all servers installed in the data centers provided by the group companies became unusable. In addition, to prevent further spread of infection, our employees are prohibited from coming to the Kabukiza office in principle, and our internal network and internal business systems have also been shut down.

The Niconico Video system, posted video data, and video distribution system were operated on the public cloud, so they were not affected. Niconico Live Broadcasting did not suffer any damage as the system itself was run on a public cloud, but the system that controls Niconico Live Broadcasting's video distribution is run on a private cloud of a group company, so it is possible that past time-shifted footage, etc. may not be available. We are also gradually checking the status of systems other than Niconico Douga and Niconico Live Broadcasting.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

Music monetization services

Dwango Ticket

Some functions of Dwango JP Store

N Preparatory School *Restored for students of N High School and S High School

Sending gifts for various projects

■ About Niconico-related programs

Until the end of July, official Niconico live broadcasts and channel live broadcasts using Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel will be suspended.

Considering that program production requires a preparation period and that Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel are monthly subscription services, we have decided to suspend live broadcasts on Niconico Live Broadcast until the end of July. Depending on the program, the broadcast may be postponed or broadcast on other services.

The date of resumption of Niconico services, including Niconico Live Broadcast and Niconico Channel, is currently undecided.

Niconico Channel Plus allows viewing of free content without logging in. Paid content viewing and commenting are not available.

■ About the new version "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" (read: nikoniko douga rikari)

While "Nico Nico" is suspended, as the first step, we will release a new version of "Nico Nico Douga (Re: Kari)" at 3:00 p.m. on June 14, 2024. Our development team voluntarily created this site in just three days, and it is a video community site with only basic functions such as video viewing and commenting, just like the early days of Niconico (2006). In consideration of the load on the service, only a selected portion of the videos posted on Niconico Video is available for viewing. The lineup is mainly popular videos from 2007, and you can watch them for free without an account.

■About the Niconico Manga app

We have already confirmed that many systems were not affected, and we are considering resuming the service with a reduced-function version that allows basic functions such as reading manga, commenting, and adding to favorites. We aim to restore the service by June 2024.

If any new facts become known in the future, we will report them on Niconico Info, Official X, our company website, etc. as they become available. We appreciate your understanding and cooperation.

Added 6/10]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Due to the effects of a large-scale cyber attack, Niconico has been unavailable since the early morning of June 8th.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

As of 6:00 p.m. on June 10th, we are working to rebuild the entire Niconico system without being affected by the cyber attack, in parallel with an investigation to grasp the full extent of the damage.

We have received many inquiries from you, such as "Will premium membership fees and paid channel membership fees be charged during the service suspension period?" and "What will happen to the time shift deadline for live broadcasts?". We are currently in the process of investigating the impact, so we cannot answer your questions, but we will respond sincerely, so please wait for further information.

Our executive officer Shigetaka Kurita and CTO Keiichi Suzuki are scheduled to explain the expected time until recovery and the information learned from the investigation up to that point this week.

We will inform you again about this as soon as we are ready.

■ Services currently suspended

Niconico Family Services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, Niconico Channel, etc.

Niconico Account Login on External Services

[Added 2024/06/10 18:00]

Gifts for various projects (due to the suspension of related systems)

■ Programs scheduled to be canceled/postponed (as of June 10)

Programs from June 10 to June 16

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

The official program "Monthly Niconico Info" scheduled for June 11 at 20:00 will be broadcast on YouTube and X at a reduced scale. During this program, we will verbally explain the current situation in an easy-to-understand manner. (※There is no prospect of providing additional information, such as detailed recovery dates, during this program.)

"Monthly Niconico Info" can be viewed at the following URL. YouTube → https://www.youtube.com/@niconico_news X (formerly Twitter) → https://x.com/nico_nico_info

The latest information will be posted on Niconico Info and the official X (formerly Twitter).

We deeply apologize for the inconvenience caused to users and content providers who regularly enjoy our videos and live broadcasts. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the issue is resolved.

Published on 6/8]

Thank you for your continued patronage. This is the Niconico management team.

Currently, Niconico is under a large-scale cyber attack, and in order to minimize the impact, we have temporarily suspended our services.

We are accelerating our investigation and taking measures, but we cannot begin recovery until we are confident that we have completely eliminated the effects of the cyber attack and our safety has been confirmed. We do not expect to be able to restore services at least this weekend.

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.

We will inform you of the latest situation again on Monday (June 10, 2024).

■ Suspended services

Niconico family services such as Niconico Video, Niconico Live Broadcast, and Niconico Channel

Niconico account login on external services

■ Current situation

In parallel with the recovery work, we are investigating the route of the attack and the possibility of information leakage.

No credit card information has been confirmed to have been leaked (Niconico does not store credit card information on its own servers).

Future information will be announced on Niconico Info and Official X (formerly Twitter) as it becomes available.

We deeply apologize to all users who were looking forward to the video posts and live broadcasts scheduled for this weekend. We ask for your understanding and cooperation until the response is complete.

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 2

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

Some of the conversation feels a little clunky, but we want these two to make up and move on, right?

Part 1 Here Part 7 Here Part 12 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 9 Here

Part 5 Here Part 10 Here

Part 6 Here Part 11 Here

Norm hates this feeling. Laying in bed, he can feel his stomach twisted in knots. This gut-wrenching feeling has kept him up most of the night, realizing he’s got to make a decision. As far as he’s deduced from his sleepless night of pondering, he’s got two primary options. 

Option A. He pretends yesterday’s conversation with (Y/N) never happened, and they continue exchanging small talk, pleasantries, and those awkward neighbor half-waves until the end of time. The scaredy cat in him prefers this option. It avoids confrontation and maintains the status quo they’ve held for the last couple of years. It is simple and lacks any unnecessary entanglements. Things just go on according to plan. He’s done it before, it can easily be done again. 

OR he can proceed with Option B to confront (Y/N) about what she said in the cafeteria yesterday. This option has sparked his curious side. Cause that entire interaction was odd, wasn’t it? Norm had so many questions, but are they worth pursuing? Opening that can of worms could lead to more problems, more decisions, and fewer answers. No. He needed to know. Curiosity might just kill the cat, but at least he’d be able to sleep at night. 

(Y/N) worked in one of the maintenance labs as Vault 33’s official Pip-Boy Programmer—one of the perks of doing well on the Vault G.O.A.T exams. Norm was eager, planning to stop by the lab first thing before he headed to his desk. Unless someone had major issues with their Pip-Boy, they’d probably have the lab to themselves that early. Alright, it was decided. He threw off the certified Vault-Tec comforter, climbed out of bed, and headed toward the shower to get ready. 

—--------------------

You were already at your desk, pretending to be occupied, when Norm MacLean appeared in the doorway of the lab, leaning on the doorframe and fiddling with his Pip-Boy. Truth be told, you were half-expecting him, especially after yesterday. But maybe not this soon. You were hoping he’d stew on this decision for at least a day.

“Good Morning, Norm. Pip-Boy on the fritz?” you ask, knowing full well that the reason he was here had nothing to do with his Pip-Boy. Even if his Pip-Boy was malfunctioning, Norm was more than capable of taking care of that repair without your assistance. 

“Yeah, I think I’m having some software issues. Do you think you could do a diagnostic run for me?” 

You smile, “Of course. If you wouldn’t mind taking it off and filling out the repair form, I can start right away.” 

He complies, handing you his Pip-Boy and taking the clipboard with the attached Vault-Tec paperwork. As he starts on the paperwork, he estimates he’s got roughly twenty minutes of fake errand cover to work with. 

You attach the Pip-Boy to the diagnostic cable running from your computer, load up the program, and wait. “It will just be a few minutes to get a full picture of what’s going on,” you reassure him. 

“That’s fine. My supervisor knows I was having a few issues with it this morning,” Norm says, barely looking up from the clipboard. 

The two of you fall into awkward silence, neither wanting to be the first to break it. 

You relent. “Hey, I’m sorry if yesterday made you uncomfortable. I know we haven’t spoken much at all lately, but I heard about what happened from Reg, and I just couldn’t stop myself from coming over. It wasn’t right of me to use your situation as my catharsis, especially since we had that failing out. I should have respected that. We can continue on as we were, friendly neighbors in the same Vault.” The words stuck in your throat on the way out. That’s not what you wanted, but if that’s what Norm came here to say, better get it out of the way sooner. 

Oof, now he felt terrible. Norm should have known you’d apologize for thinking you made him uncomfortable. That’s your nature. You’ve always been empathic to the needs of your friends. He needs to come clean. 

“I never wanted that.” 

I’m sorry. What did he say? He never wanted that. To stop being friends? Your brain was going a mile a minute, swirling with questions, too many to vocalize at once. Thankfully, Norm elaborated before you even tried. 

“I never wanted to stop being friends, but the closer we got to graduation, the more effort you seemed to put into exams and passing, being the best in the class. You had ambitions and goals, and (Y/N) you could achieve them. You didn’t need to be dragged down by the Black Sheep of Vault 33.” He tries not to think about his label, and usually, it doesn’t bother him. But right now,  it weighs on him; it feels laminated across his forehead, defining him. 

“Norman,” you manage to sigh out. “I’ve always admired that about you. That’s what I meant yesterday. I wish I had the confidence to act that way before now; I’m sure I’d be much happier. After my dad passed away, I wasn’t sure how I was going to navigate,” you gesture to the air around you, "everything. I was on my own, and subconsciously, I picked up on the reality that the better I did in that classroom or for the Vault, the more control I thought I could have over my life.” 

She didn’t need to explain. He knew exactly what she meant. It is kind of an unspoken rule of Vault 33. Obviously, those who did well on their exams got matched into the most coveted jobs within the vault, but those placements also impacted other situations. Those higher-achieving students had more say in when and to whom they were married, more access to leadership positions, and the list goes on. 

“I had no idea how my life would go, but at least I knew I wanted a hand on the steering wheel. I mean, I’m not sure if I actually want to be married or if that’s part of the programming to be in a relationship, but whatever happens, I want it to at least feel as though I made the decision." You pause and add, "Seriously, could you imagine if I got stuck having to marry Chad Johnston?” 

Norm snorted. The juxtaposition of his former classmates as a married couple was hilarious. Those two couldn’t be more opposites. “Well, at least he’d have someone to teach him to read,” he managed between laughs. 

This garnered a snicker from you as well. “Haha, you’re hilarious,” you say in the most sarcastic tone you can muster. “So, what do you think? Can we act like adults and finally move on? Or do we double down on whatever self-destructive tendencies we’ve got going on here?” 

“Hmmm, I don’t know about you, but I’m really leaning into that second one.” He pauses and puts his hand to his chin. “On the other hand, it might be nice to have lunch with someone I’m not related to.”

DING. “Vault-Tec Pip-Boy diagnostic program is now complete, no issues were detected.” 

You both smile. “Well, it looks like the software issues seemed to have resolved themselves.” 

“Isn’t technology incredible?” Norm asks as he stands to leave. 

[moonsofmachinery]

Finally, a group photo of my Java Local Group! Nothing goes wrong and their senior definitely survives the fall.....

Closeups / details about my little guys below!

These are Bursting Energy Taught and Hidden Etching Lost Labels who both go hand-in-hand as little troublemakers. BET- Or Burst, is very into Music- As well as some other less legal things that he often goes to HELL for. HELL is very good at getting their hands on illegal, taboo-breaking stuff as they were specifically built to house intelligent processes and spyware (Thats not to say they ARE intelligent but!!! hey!! they can build a ton of silly mechanical slugs)

God... These two, Visceral Patterns Repeating and Defying Amicable Management. These two both have a history of being very unkind to their ancients who are very unkind to them. DAM is much more evident in this, he is outwardly aggressive and often branded as a threat- He has a malfunctioning eye that cannot be fixed because his ancients cannot get close to his puppet because He Will Maim Them. Visceral is much more soft and playful in her accidental harming of Ancients... He doesn't mean to cause harm. These two get to be connected via their strata which is so fun for them I'm sure that doesn't cause The Horrors. (They aren't connected like Pebbles and Moon, but cables run beneath their facilities connecting their strata)

Ohhh Never Melancholy Never Weary and Soft Tells Of Doubt- Melan and STOD! STOD is the Group SENIOR! Old... His collapse fuels the events that take place in their local group. Melan, meanwhile, is the main proponent of action within the group. Silly and whimsical, but turns very. very serious. When DAM's actions start affecting the LG- Including his sibling, Visceral.

[icaruskeyartist]

Hey @pillowspace I've been promising some whump and this is going to be the start of it.

I don't know how many parts it'll be, but I suspect I'll be able to post one snippet every day or two and finish it out by the end of the week.

I hope I do it justice. I've been hyping it up in my head a whole lot, especially since I'm writing more comfort for the clone au than here.

This is loop five. You're pretty sure of that. Sun is a little suspicious of you, the distance between you and the attendant growing ever wider as you prove to be more capable with the kids than him or Moon. It's not his fault, you want to explain, but you know that will only make things worse.

So you try to ignore instinct, let the children fall and need Sun, but he's the face of the daycare and he's needed all the time, so it becomes pain for pain's sake, and that of a child too! You can't stand it, and you know if he were in your shoes, if either of them were, they'd understand.

You still don't like the day they bring the generators in --- other humans with help from some of the animatronics, Freddy and Bonnie always eager to give their coworkers a helping hand. You don't like it because it means Moon won't be out anymore.

"Can we put some tape down? I'm worried the kids will trip over the cables." You stand at Sun's side, both of you watching the generators get placed. You with a furrowed brow, Sun with his rays retracted nearly entirely into his faceplate.

"That might be for the best." The strain in his voice is upsetting, and you reach to touch his arm in sympathy. It surprises him, and he slowly places a hand over yours. "Thank you for helping with the children. It's been... Difficult lately."

I know, you don't say. There's no movement from him, no wit or joke in his voice. Even his touch is limp.

"We're all set!" Freddy's voice is as full of life as Sun's is void of it. He walks over, the ground trembling ever so slightly with every step. "Everything going all right Sunny?"

Sun's grip on you tightens, painfully so with flesh trapped between metal. "Of course! Moon is just having some malfunctioning code, so we are putting him on pause until he gets better." The strain is audible, but Freddy is far too polite to bring it up.

"It's a shame," he says instead, clapping a paw on Sun's shoulder. "He's always good for a tune and a prank. Let us know if you need anything Sunny."

"Of course," Sun replies, but he's drowned out by Bonnie hop-jogging over to grab Freddy's arm.

"C'mon man. We got a set to practice with the girls. Chica's gonna murder us if we aren't on time."

"Ah right. See you Sun, Superstar." Freddy waves his goodbye, but you avoid looking at him. In a couple weeks, Freddy won't be the same. You wish you could warn them, but.

But instead, you watch as the two glamrocks leave, useless in comforting Sun, in saving Bonnie. Maybe if it wasn't for the fire... But you have to keep to your personal priorities right now, and you'd failed too many times already.

Sun signs, releasing you. "Let's get the daycare ready before the kids start showing up. Thank you for coming in early Starlight."

"It's not a problem Sun." You push as much love into your voice as possible. "If you get the art supplies and breakfast snacks ready, I can secure the electric cords."

"Oh of course. That's very smart." His rays remain retracted as he walks to the locked cabinets to prepare. You bum a roll of duct tape off a coworker and climb into the jungle gym, carefully taping the cables out of the way of little feet.

At least Sun brightened when the children started pouring in. You take over explaining the new naptime rules to the parents so he can fawn over the little ones, and the day passes quickly under the unforgiving glare of the lights.

You stay late to help clean, staking chairs out of the way to vacuum. Sun is humming as he pins the new drawings up, taking a few of the oldest ones down and stacking them neatly to the side.

"Will Moon get to come out after hours?" You ask, and Sun stops, arms full with little trays of crayons and markers. You notice there's a couple red hearts drawn on his cheek. Does he know about them?

"Oh, no. We aren't allowed to leave the daycare unless it's for maintenance, so he won't be coming out." Sun hands you the trays. "I'm going to take the old drawings up to our room. Can you finish things up down here?"

"Oh, yeah, of course." Even five loops in you're sticking your foot in your mouth. "Have a good night Sun."

"Thank you Starlight." He gathers the drawings, reaching up for the cord that he and Moon use to travel through the air. It descends and clips in place, and... He's gone.

It hurts to see him in pain like this. But, you will fix things this time. And Sun, very unintentionally, gave you the chance to do some after hours exploring.

✴️✴️✴️

Even better, it turns out the daycare's vacuum cleaner is broken, the always frayed cord finally snapped. Weird that you hadn't noticed this before, but then again, you have been busy every loop. You drag the vacuum out the side door to the manager 's office so it could be thrown out by someone with actual authority. It's quiet, the music playing to softly to muffle your footsteps or rattly old contraption dragging behind you. It shouldn't be easy to sneak up on you, and yet

"Who are you?" A woman's voice cuts through your thoughts, and you jump, giving an inarticulate yell and promptly tripping over yourself as you turn.

She's a security guard you realize, spotting the badge and pseudo-cop attire even as you're blinded by her flashlight. You squint and shield your eyes, clumsily getting back to your feet.

"I'm the daycare assistant." You fumble for your badge, clipped on the inside of your sweater to show. "I'm still cleaning up. Sun's having a bit of a stressful day and it's a lot slower without his help." You're over explaining but, ah well. You're still startled.

"You're not supposed to stay after hours." She checks her watch, and you can finally make out her face. She's pretty, young. Not exactly what you'd think of when you think overnight security guard. "It's late."

"I know." There's an edge of irritation slipping in, even as you gather the broken vacuum again. "I need to finish cleaning."

The guard watches you, and you're uncomfortably aware of her apparent lack of blinking, fiddling with the busted cord instead. "And the daycare attendant is refusing to help?"

"He's had a bad day," you say, openly defensive. "He deserves a break, so I'm taking care of things. It's fine. You can even watch if you want to make sure I'm not stealing anything."

She's still frowning at you, shaking her head. She holsters the flashlight, taking the vacuum from you. "You go on home. I'll make sure the daycare gets cleaned."

"But---" You grimace as her already disgruntled expression turns hostile. "Okay, all right. Can I at least get my stuff?"

She sighs but nods, dropping the vacuum. "Come on then. I need to escort you. Someone's been sneaking around in here after hours already."

Oh? "They have?" Could they have messed with Moon? "Why hasn't the day shift been informed?"

"Everyone important has."

You give up trying to talk, frustrated with her stoney silence. The daycare is lit like a beacon in the pizzeria, and when you enter you cut off to the side, digging your bag out of your cubby. You start to call up to Sun, but the guard is at your shoulder, still watching you in her unnerving way. You swallow instead, gesturing vaguely. "Well, that's it."

"Good. Let's go then." And she takes the lead, leaving you scrambling to catch up. There's no lingering or trying to take the long way around. She leads you directly to the atrium and even watches as you clock out.

"Well, thank you," you say, attempting one more smile. She's unmoved. "Um, have a good night?"

"In the future, if you can't get everything done by the end of your shift, telephone it into the security office," she says, escorting you to the nearest door.

"I will." And you're leaving, confused and frustrated. You turn around when the door locks behind you. The guard is already leaving, her ponytail bouncing with her long steps. Just in case, you try the door, but nope. It's locked.

"Fine then. I'll try again tomorrow," you tell the door, drawing a hand down your face. Hopefully she didn't bully Sun for trying to take a break. You've already decided you do not like her. But how have you missed her the past few loops? You're the only one who knows what's happening, so you should've run into her before. What's changed?

[bethanythebogwitch]

I find D&D gnomes kind of bland so for my homebrew world, I spiced them up by merging them with Warhammer 40k orks

Wait, hear me out

So I didn't make my gnomes murderous fungus people, but I did draw on the ork ability to make their technology work because they believe it works. Gnomes are describes as tinkerers who build fantastical technology, but this somehow never impacts the world's technological level. I decided that in my world, large numbers of gnomes living together can make their technology work just by nature of being there. Take a gnome invention away from gnomes and it will suddenly malfunction, explode, or just be a hunk of scrap. This also scales with the number of gnomes present. A small village could create some interesting gizmos like what you get from the rock gnome pc stats. Meanwhile my world's biggest gnome city is a bizarre place made of towers where buildings were just plopped on top of each other with no thought for stability or safety and remain standing despite being completely structurally unsound. They are connected by haphazard bridges and cable cars and the city is alive with the sound of clockwork robots and the flapping of ornithopters. Its a place of nonsense and even though its part of a larger empire, the empire lets it be pretty much autonomous because they're afraid that if they step in, the whole place might collapse or explode. Artificers in my world were the result of an attempt to make gnome tech that everyone can use and that wont explode if there aren't enough gnomes around

[ashleymasenado]

TADC: Pomni Through the Looking Glass (and What She Found There)

@endomentendo, be glad that you have inspired me, but prepare to be spited cause that's exactly why I'm writing this. If I got most stuff wrong including the tech (look I had to improvise the looking glass okay no one really cares if it's different from yours (wow for once I don't care about getting canon right)) I'm probably just a little sorry.

Also if Pomni's name is the same in the real world and digital wonderland, then I'm glad I got this right then.

But for anyone else who's also enjoying this, please enjoy! And maybe leave a little comment on what you thought; I haven't written a full-length story, much less a one-shot in a long time, and I'm excited to be back into my natural talent of writing!

(P.S. before we move on: I might write a little thing based on Endo's little opening comic for in Wonderland…)

(Also apologies if my writing style feels old, I had just reread the original Through the Looking Glass recently lol)

——————————————————————————————————

The little white kitty robot had been malfunctioning lately. At least, that's what her sister had been saying based on her own observations. And this time, the little thing had been moving on its own, all because a simple move of its shelf had flicked a switch and now it was just about to fall off said shelf. When it was close to hitting the ground, it was just barely caught by the only worker in the store that day, Pomni Gardner.

"There you go," she smiled tiredly, petting the furry kitty's head and shelfing it again. In all her five years of working at Cable and Analog Convenience, the little robot kitty she had made in high school was sometimes her rare source of company when her sister was out of town making supply trips. That, and the other two robot kittens on display only. But the little white kitten, which she had named Snowy, was one of the more active ones due to a little floor accident she figured was the cause of her random turn-ons these days.

Pomni leaned on the counter with a sigh, looking over the blank account of the past few mundane days on the computer for the store's records. No one had come into the store in a long time, so she had mostly felt that there was no need to come in at all. But ever since her sister's insistence for her to take her place just a day before she left, Pomni hadn't really had a choice in the manner.

She leaned back in her chair and stared up thoughtfully at the ceiling, desperate to get away from her boredom. It hadn't been a very long time ago since she had somehow dreamt of a strange place, created of her own imagination yet of very real sensations somehow. The little white clown with the giant pocket watch hopping from monitor to monitor and ending up in one that hadn't worked in years… she still wasn't sure it was such a wise choice to follow it and fall into the small screen, with a new form that forced her to question her new identity: was she the same person she was that morning, or a different one entirely? Hey, English class was finally coming in handy.

Even thought it was all a dream in the end, it was a very strange one. Even stranger, somehow she had woken up with a VR headset on her head, which she suspected her sister had placed on her to try and shake her awake, yet it hadn't really helped much. But she appreciated the effort, even if she hadn't asked her about it yet. The whole thing was very curious though.

Pomni groaned, more out of exasperation than anything else. She grabbed the little white cat off the nearby shelf and flicked the switch, watching it move around the table in a cute and almost realistic manner like an actual kitten. She had been quite proud of being the sole builder of this little mechanism, even if she had to use a few parts from their own store when it was only her sister running it back in the day. But in the end, she never really noticed, so it was all fine.

"You know, Snowy," she started, leaning her head on her hand as her elbow settled on the counter. She chuckled at the cliche nickname, her bored smile growing wider as the little cat came over to her hand and gave a small robotic purr. "It was the darndest thing, that dream I had a few months ago. It only feels like yesterday I had become a very different person, or atleast, that's what my body experienced. It was more of a physical change than anything. But can it really be considered physical if it was inside of a digital world? Anyway, it still gave me a weird existential crisis."

Pomni pulled the little white robot kitten onto her lap, feeling it settle there like a regular cat as she began to stroke its head. She and her sister, the only employees at C&A Convenience, weren't allowed to bring in any pets for the sake of their customers, so it was nice to have this little girl for company, even if she wasn't the real thing. "I wonder what it would be like to have you with me, Snowy. What would a little robot cat be like in that strange digital world? Would you be able to talk and be your own person, or would you still be as you are now? Gosh, when did I start asking so many questions?"

Pomni rubbed her own head, returning to petting the little kitten afterwards. She directed her attention to the newly imported wide-screen TV, which her sister had repaired with the help of their uncle. Now it looked just like new, which she really appreciated as she smiled and admired her reflection for just a moment. The screen was so big and clear, it was just like looking through a giant mirror. It was these kind of televisions that they said had images so vivid and lifelike it was like they were jumping out of the screen or they could pull you into the video itself. Pomni had never had a chance to see what that was like, and there was sadly no video player to plug into the TV, so she was just going to imagine it best she could.

"Could you imagine if an image could actually pull you into it, Snowy?" She said with a light chuckle, putting the little robot on the counter and standing up to get her fourth cup of coffee. She sat back down and started sipping her cup, looking over at Snowy who she had shut down so it wouldn't waddle off the counter and fall again. "It'd probably be a weird experience, just like when I accidentally fell through the monitor as if it were a hole in the ground. Just imagine the whole thing—the space just warping around you, like a vacuum cleaner, slowly taking you into a different place…"

Pomni was surprised at her own bravery to describe this fascinating and yet horrifying scenario, but not as surprised as she was to see the lights around her dim and the TV slowly flickering to life. She put down her cup on the counter and carefully leaned closer to the screen, which showed just a little bit of static and that same annoying buzzing sound you'd hear when the TV wouldn't work and all you'd get was said static. But as she leaned in closer to the screen for curiosity's sake, she saw the static was like a misty veil, like a lacy white curtain or the kind of mist you'd see on your window on a cold or snowy day.

"What in the…?"

Out of instinct, she reached out her hand to the screen and almost drew her hand back at its warmth. It wasn't an unwelcoming warmth, like a boiling pot or a fever, but it was a strange warmth nonetheless. And the screen seemed to ripple where she touched it… how curious.

She tried it again, keeping her hand there for longer. Using her other hand, she wiped at the misty veil of static, and drew back with a sound gasp.

For in the place of her normal reflection, of a young human 25-year-old woman, was the same character she had become in that dream of a digital Wonderland.

With a frustrated frown, she tried to pull her hand away from the screen, which she found was soundly stuck and was even beginning to sink into it. Gosh darn it, why didn't she learn anything from the last time?! Was this about to become a new adventure that she didn't want to be dragged into? Why did she ever come close to this TV in the first place…

Her reflection seemed to mirror her distress, even though she was yet to take that form—which she would soon take if she didn't pull back. But the warm feeling of her hand going through and next her arm was almost like rapidly falling into quicksand—no way out unless someone pulled you free.

And with a silent curse falling from her lips, Pomni was sucked through the television screen, which was as clear as the looking glass, before it was as silent and blank as it was before.

[sweetspring13]

Under the weather hugs

Joe knocked on the hardwood door and could immediately hear the soft shuffle of feet on the other side. The door creaked open, revealing Taylor bundled in a cozy sweater, her nose red and her eyes slightly watery.

"Hey, you," Joe greeted, leaning in for a hug. He kissed her forehead softly, noting the warmth of her skin.

Taylor hugged him back tightly but soon pulled away, coughing into her elbow and then sniffling, rubbing her nose with her wrist. "Sorry, I’mb a little under the weather… snff… I thidk I’mb catchidg a cold or sobethidg… snff... snff..."

Joe rubbed her back gently, concern in his eyes. "Are you sure you want to go out? We could just stay in and watch a movie or something."

Taylor shook her head, giving him a reassuring smile despite her congested voice. "Id’s jusd sobe sdiffles... Sniffle... I’ll be fide."

She grabbed her coat, and they stepped out into the chilly air, the cool air hitting them full force as they started walking.  As they walked around the park, Taylor kept sniffling stuffily between words, and wiping her nose with the back of her hand "So, how´s the movie?" she asked, her voice thick with congestion.

Joe glanced at her, smiling softly. "It was good. Busy, but good. We're wrapping up some scenes now, and it's coming together nicely. What about you?"

"Hhh...hhih...hhetxchew!! Snfl...ughh, I’ve beed doihg this the whole day... snffl." Taylor sneezed suddenly, pulling a travel pack of tissues from her purse. She dabbed at her nose, sniffling again.

Joe rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Bless you! Are you sure you don´t wanna go back? This chill can't be good for you right now."

Taylor shook her head, her voice determined despite her stuffed-up nose. "Yeah, I´mb fide.. snffl.. I wadt to get sombe coffee firshh... huhh...first... heehh...hhehiishOOoo!!! Snfl..." Another shiver ran down her spine as she pitched forward with another desperate sneeze, her hands cupped to her face. "Aahh...snfl...ahht'CHSHXT!!! ...Ughh."

“Woah.. God bless you!” Joe said rubbing his hand up and down her back as she sniffled and collected herself, as gently steered them toward a nearby coffee shop. “Let's go in and warm up a bit."

He pushed the door open and let her in first. They chose a small table in the corner, and a moment later, an old waitress came to take their order. Taylor started to speak, but a stuffy and sickly-sounding sneeze interrupted her. "Can I get a skinny carmell latte with sombe aldmond mbilk with... huhh..." Her voice turned into a breathless, hitching whisper as she squeezed the pink rims of her nostrils through the soggy tissue, eyes halfway closed. "Hhehh...snfl...ehh'chiiihew!!!"

She sneezed, and in an effort to keep from coughing, she didn’t blow her nose, which would have required a semi-deep breath. Instead, she just sniffled and massaged her nose in the damp tissue. The waitress, standing there with sympathy in her eyes, told her, "Oh my! Bless you sweetheart. That's quite the head cold you've got there! You should be tucked into bed right now."

Taylor nodded gratefully, "Exgcuse mbe.. Snffl” Taylor thanked her and finished her order, then Joe made his. Before the waitress could leave, Taylor sniffled congestedly and asked, “Cad we get sombe mbore napkings, please? snfl..." as she wiped her nose with the now very overused soggy tissue. The waitress nodded promissing she would be right back.

As they waited for their drinks, Taylor and Joe caught up on their days apart. He began to tell her stories from the movie he was filming. "So, we had this one scene where everything was supposed to go smoothly, but the props kept malfunctioning. It was hilarious. One of the guys tripped over a cable and almost took down the entire set!"

Taylor giggled, which quickly turned into a series of coughs. She sniffled wetly, reaching for her crumpled tissues. "I cad just picture that. Snff... sounds like a crazy day...snfl."

“Yeah, it was! It´s this one scene where the director wanted this dramatic rain effect. They had these huge hoses and it was just—” Joe paused, watching Taylor's eyes flutter closed again.

“Huhh… hheh… heht’CHOO! Huh… hhhehtSHOO!” Taylor sneezed into her tissue, then sniffled wetly. “Sorry, Joe. Snff. Go od...”

He smiled sympathetically. "Bless you. Anyway, the rain was more like a waterfall. The whole cast was soaked, and the director was furious because the scene wasn’t supposed to be that wet."

Taylor giggled, but it turned into a cough. She quickly covered her mouth with her tissue, then wiped her nose again. "Oh mby god! Add could you mbake it right?."

Joe chuckled. "Yeah, it was a mess. But it’ll make a great blooper reel."

Their drinks arrived, along with extra napkins. "Thagk you," she said to the waitress, who smiled kindly and walked away. Taylor grabbed a handful and blew her nose vigorously, her face scrunching up in discomfort.

“You really are having a tough time with that cold. Aren´t you?” he said gently.

Taylor wiped her nose one more time and nodded. "Yeah, I don´t kdow where id cambe fromb… snff… I was fide yesterday… Snff… I'b just glad I'b dot workidg this week."

They sat for a while longer, Taylor sneezing and sniffling, Joe talking softly about his work and making her laugh. Despite her cold, Taylor felt glad they had gone on this little date after not seeing each other for a few weeks. As she took her last sip, Joe looked at her with a gentle smile. "Ready to head home?"

Taylor nodded, sniffling again. He signaled for the waitress to bring them the bill. She walked over with a warm smile.

"Here's your bill, dears," she said, placing it on the table.

As Joe pulled out his wallet, Taylor's breath hitched again. "Huhh... huhh... HUH’ISHHOO! Snfl..." She quickly grabbed a napkin, blowing her nose with a grugly and stuffy sound. The waitress looked at her with sympathy.

"Bless you, sweetheart," she said, shaking her head slightly. "You really should be in bed right now, nursing that cold. And you," she turned to Joe with a mock stern look, "you better take good care of this poor thing. What were you thinking, taking her out while she's this sick?"

Joe smiled sheepishly, nodding in agreement as he handed her his card. "I know, we’re heading straight home after this.”

The waitress nodded approvingly. “Good. You make sure she’s warm and has plenty of fluids. And maybe some soup if you can manage it.” She winked at Taylor, who managed a weak smile.

“Thagk you,” Taylor said, her voice barely a whisper through her congestion.

Joe quickly paid the bill, leaving a generous tip as a token of gratitude for the waitress’s kindness. They both thanked her again and stood up to leave. Taylor making sure she grabbed a few napkins for the way home. Joe helped her with her coat, and they made their way to the door.

As Joe pushed the door open, a gust of cold air hit them, causing Taylor to shiver. Her breath hitched once more, and she sneezed violently, doubling over. “Huhhh... hehhh... heht’SHOO! Hheh... hehh... hheh’CHSHOO!!”

Joe rubbed her back soothingly as she sniffled and wiped her nose with a fresh napkin. “Bless you, Tay. Let’s get you home.”

Taylor nodded, leaning into Joe for support. They walked slowly, Joe’s arm around her shoulders, providing warmth and comfort as they made their way back to her house. "I'b really sorry for ruiding our date... snff." She told him as they walked wrapped around each other.

"Hey, you're not ruining anything," Joe reassured her, kissing the top of her head. "I just want you to feel better."

“I kdow.. I just.. Snffl.. We habe beed so busy lately ahd I wandted to.. snffl.. Uhhh...hh...hhet'tchshh!! ...Ugh, 'scuse be...hhh...hhtxchsht!!.. Snfl..”” Taylor doubled over and sneezed desperately into one hand; eyes squeezed shut. Before she'd even opened them again, she felt her boyfriend´s arm around her shoulders, and a warm kiss on her forehead. “Bless you love,” Joe murmured low in her ear, with another kiss for good measure. “Don´t worry about any of that. I´m just happy to spend time with you, I don’t care where. Come on, let's get you home.” He rubbed her back as she wiped her stuffy nose “'Kay,” Taylor agreed woozily, a weak smile spreading across her pale face as she allowed her boyfriend to steer her towards the warmth of the house. ------

Once they got home, Joe helped her out of her coat and guided her to the couch, spreading a warm blanket around her shoulders, as she reached for some tissues in the coffee table.

"How about I make you some tea?" Joe offered, heading to the kitchen.

Taylor sniffled, her voice muffled from under the tissues. "Thadk you. That sounds really good right dow."

Joe busied himself in the kitchen, soon returning with a steaming cup of tea. He handed it to Taylor, who accepted it with a grateful smile. She took a small sip, savoring the warmth.

"You really are the best," she said, her voice still thick with congestion.

Joe sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Am I?" He said playfully, leaning into her

Taylor nodded, pressing a small peck on his lips, which he eagerly returned, multiple times, making her giggle.

The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the TV screen as a movie played. Taylor nestled comfortably against Joe's side. She had been sniffling constantly, her nose clearly congested and runny. Every so often, she wiped her nose on her sleeve, the wet sniffling sounds becoming more frequent as the movie progressed.

The warmth and comfort of their position made it hard for her to move. "Hh...snff...Snffl..." She sniffled wetly, trying to keep her nose from dripping. Joe glanced down at her and saw her wiping her nose on her sleeve once more. He gently reached over to the table, grabbing the box of tissues. He placed it in her lap and pulled out a few tissues, handing them to her.

"Here you go, Tay" he said softly, a gentle smile on his face.

Taylor let out a small, embarrassed laugh and took the tissues. "Thadk you... sorry... snff," she mumbled, blowing her nose with a gurgling sound. She snuggled back into Joe, holding the tissues close.

They continued watching the movie, occasionally talking about the plot. Taylor couldn't help but sneeze a few more times, her nose seemingly relentless.

"Huh... HAH'tchoo! Snfl..." She sneezed into a tissue, sniffling afterward.

"Bless you, T" Joe said as the blonde girl sniffled and hitched again, raising her head woozily..

“Th-thadks,” Taylor sniffled, eyes barely open as she pressed the clean tissue firmly to her glistening nostrils, already trembling wide open again in helpless anticipation. “Uhh'tcheww!! *Snfl*...Hh—hhh—hhehiiishu!!! *Snfl,*” The blonde girl sneezed  desperately, sniffled, and sneezed again, bobbing forward on the couch in helpless submission. “Ughh, snffl.. this sucks” She groaned softly, opening her bleary eyes and sniffling wetly behind the tissue, giving her nose a firm rub.

“I know baby, I´m sorry you feel bad” He tells her rubbing her back. She gives him a small smile and cuddles herself into his side again.

As the movie went on, Taylor's eyes grew heavy. She leaned more into Joe, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. After a while, she drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and even. He gently shifted to make her more comfortable, letting her rest peacefully against him as he watched the rest of the movie quietly, careful not to disturb her. When the credits rolled, he looked down at Taylor, who was still sound asleep.

“Tay, hey, wake up,” he whispered softly, brushing her hair back.

Taylor stirred, blinking sleepily. “Huh? Whad’s... Snff... What´s going on?”

“You fell asleep baby,” Joe said gently. “Come on, let´s go to bed.”

Taylor sleepily protested, “We cad stay here... Snff... It’s fide.” she mumbled; her voice thick with sleep.

Joe shook his head, helping her sit up. “Come on, baby, you´ll sleep better in our bed. I promise”

Taylor nodded groggily, too tired to argue and allowed Joe to help her up, and they made their way to the stairs. As they walked towards the stairs, the chilly temperature change made her nose tickle again. “Wait.. I.. huhh” She paused, her breath hitching, and she turned to sneeze into her elbow. “Huhh... hhehh... hehh’CHOO! Hhehh... hheh’TSHOO! Snff, snff...”

Joe kept a steadying hand on her back. “Bless you, Tay.”

They made their way up the stairs, Taylor sneezing a few more times as they went. Finally, they reached her bedroom. Joe helped her into bed, tucking the blankets around her snugly. He took a tissue box from the bathroom and placed it on her nightstand, handing her a couple, which she gratefully used to blow her nose again.

“Thagk you, Joe,” she said, her voice a soft murmur as she settled into her pillow.

Joe smiled, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. "You're welcome, Taylor. Now get some rest and feel better soon."

Taylor smiled up at him, her eyes already closing. “Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Goodnight,” Joe responded, walking into the other side of the bed and watching her drift off to sleep. ------

Taylor woke up feeling like she'd been hit by a truck. Every muscle in her body ached, her ears were blocked up and pounding, her throat burned, her nose was completely stuffed up, and her head felt like it was full of wet cement. Blinking groggily, she realized Joe was not beside her, and a wave of loneliness and self-pity washed over her. She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, feeling her nose begin to drip almost immediately.

“Snff, snff...” she sniffled congestedly, the sound liquid and deep. The tickle in her nose sparked again, and she rubbed it against the end of her sweatshirt, hoping to alleviate the itch. She got out of bed and shivered as a chill ran down her spine. Feeling cold and miserable, she sniffled again, her nose leaking once more.

“Hheh...snfl...” The tickle blossomed intensely at the back of her head, stopping her in her tracks. Standing in front of the bed, her eyes narrowed as her head fell back, and she cupped her hands in anticipation. “Aaah...snfl...ahhit'chhew!!!” She sneezed, her nose running. “Ughhh,” she sighed softly behind her cupped hands, blinking woozily as she sniffled again. The tickle persisted, less intense but building up quickly as fresh trails of discharge dribbled slowly down her lip. She sniffled again and reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, snatching one and wiping it across her glistening nostrils just as they started tingling helplessly.

“Hhut'chshh!! Snfl....Hhehishh!!!” She wiped her nose on the soggy tissue, already reaching for another one as she sniffled miserably. She blew her nose once more and decided to go look for her boyfriend.

She trailed downstairs sleepily. She hadn’t thought to bring any tissues with her, so she just kept wiping her tender nose on the rough, increasingly damp cuff of her sweatshirt, and turning her face into her elbow whenever she sneezed. It wasn’t ideal, but she was just too sleepy to care.

As she neared the kitchen, she felt her breath hitch again, stopping her in her tracks. “Huhh... hehh... hheh’TSHOO!” she sneezed loudly into her elbow. Joe’s back was to her as he was making breakfast. He turned around, smiling sympathetically.

“Hey! Look who’s up!” he greeted her warmly, making his way over to her. He kissed the side of her head. “What are you doing out of bed, love? I was about to bring you breakfast.”

Taylor leaned against Joe, “I woke up all by mbyself,” she croaked miserably.

Joe cooed at her whiny but sweet comment and hugged her more tightly, kissing her cheek. “Aw, good morning, baby. How are you feeling today? Any better?” he mumbled into her neck.

She sniffled stuffily and shook her head. “Mby head is all fuzzy. I feel like I’mb stoned.” She wiped her wet nose on the end of her sweatshirt again.

Joe gave her a sympathetic look and noticed her face contorting as she was about to sneeze. He quickly grabbed some napkins from the counter and handed them to her just in time.

“Huhh... hehh... hheh’TSHOO! Hhehh... heh’CHOO!!”

“God bless you,” Joe said, holding her steady. “You should go back to bed, babe. I’ll bring you some breakfast in a minute.”

Taylor shook her head, her voice a congested murmur. “I don’t wadda be alone right now.”

Joe laughed kindly and kissed her hair a few times, noticing how she was shivering. “I don’t want you to get cold standing in the kitchen. Come on, let’s get you settled on the couch where it’s warm.”

Taylor nodded, her breath catching sharply in her chest. She sniffled and brought the crumpled napkins in her hand back to her face. “Aahh...aahishhhew!! Hhut'chheww!!! Ugh...snfl.” She groaned miserably, nuzzling her cold-stuffed nose through the damp paper and blinking dizzily.

“Come on, my love, let’s get you warm on the couch. Then we can get some medicine into you,” Joe sighed, stroking a few locks of blond hair back behind her ear.

A few feet in front of the couch, Taylor stopped abruptly with a quavering breath. Joe glanced over, seeing a trickle of snot leaking from her flaring nostrils as she brought both hands to her mouth in anticipation, her expression utterly tortured as her eyebrows knit together.

"HuhhESHOOoo!! Sniffle." Taylor’s thin shoulders snapped forward with a violent, sickly sneeze that she barely contained behind her cupped hands.

“Here baby,” Joe said gently, passing Taylor the tissues from the coffee table. “Thadk you,” she grumbled, grudgingly accepting the Kleenex and blowing her cold filled nose thoroughly, too sick and exhausted to be embarrassed anymore about how loud and disgusting it sounded.

As they sat on the couch, Joe wrapped a blanket around Taylor, noticing her shivering again. He pressed his palm gently against her forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.

“I think you might have a fever, Tay,” he said, concern evident in his voice. “Let me go get the thermometer.”

While Joe went to find the thermometer, Taylor snuggled deeper into the blanket, sniffling and trying to get comfortable. When he returned holding the thermometer Taylor gave him a playful look.

“You kdow... snffl... I thidk I like id whed you play doctor,” she teased, her voice congested and raspy.

Joe chuckled, sitting back down next to her. “Well, lucky for you, you are my favorite patient.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of her red nose, making her sniffle and wrinkle it.

“I would hope so,” she smiled. Joe leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. She sniffled as they kissed, and when they broke apart, she wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue.

“I dond’t wadt you to get sigck... snnfl,” she murmured.

“I don’t care about that,” Joe replied, his tone soft and reassuring.

“You should,” Taylor insisted, “id’s ndot fud, believe mbe.”

The thermometer beeped, and Joe checked the reading. “Yep, you’ve got a fever,” he said, caressing her cheek. “You must be feeling awful.”

“I’mb finde...” Taylor started to say, but a sneeze interrupted her. “Hehh... hhet'tchshh!! Snfl... hht'chxeww!! ... Cough, cough, cough...” she hastily turned her face into her elbow so as not to sneeze directly into Joe´s lap

Joe chuckled softly. “You surely sound fine,” he teased, handing her more tissues. “Bless you, baby.” He told her, placing a kiss on top of her bangs.

Taylor blew her nose loudly until the wet sound finally cleared a little. Joe rubbed her shoulders comfortingly as she drunk her tea. She sneezed constantly, unable to go five seconds without needing to sniffle, her nose perpetually running. They finally finished breakfast, and Taylor was blinking tiredly.

“You look exhausted babe” Joe told her gently “Why don´t you lie down for a while,” He got up and got another blanket for her.

“Would you lay dowd with mbe?” Taylor looked up at him with tired eyes.

“Of course,” Joe replied. He lay down beside her, stroking her hair. Taylor sniffled and tried not to sneeze on him, but eventually, a congested sneeze escaped.

“Hehh... hhht'shoo! Snfl...ughh.. snffl” she turned her head to the side and pinched her twitching nose lightly between her thumb and forefinger, shivering with the powerful force of one raspy, congested sneeze.

“Bless you,” Joe said, yawning and bringing the tissues closer to her.

“Thadks... sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“It´s okay, sweetheart,” Joe replied, hugging her gently.

Taylor wiped her nose again and, finally, exhausted, fell asleep in Joe’s arms. ------

When she woke up from her nap, she felt a little better. Her fever had gone down, but her voice was still thick with congestion, and she was still sneezing and sniffling constantly. They decided to play some card games, despite Taylor’s frequent need to pause for sneezing fits and nose blows.

They were both competitive, getting really into the game even though Taylor had to stop often. “Sorry, it’s mby turn... hehh... hehh’tshoo! Snfl... just a sec...” she said, blowing her nose before continuing to play.

Joe watched her with a mix of amusement and concern. “That cough is sounding bad,” he said after another fit of coughing interrupted their game. “We should get you more medicine.”

“I’mb okay, baby. Id’s just a cold,” Taylor reassured him, though her voice was hoarse and congested.

“You sound awful, Tay. I don’t want you to get any worse,” Joe insisted.

Taylor smiled weakly. “You don’t need to worry so mbuch,” she said.

“That’s not possible,” Joe replied, his eyes filled with affection. ------

As the evening wore on, Taylor’s cold began to worsen. They continued playing their board game, but Joe noticed Taylor getting increasingly distracted. Her competitive spirit had waned, and she looked puzzled and a little disoriented when he told her it was her turn.

“Hey, Tay, it’s your turn,” Joe said, watching her with concern.

“What?” Taylor sniffled and looked up, startled. “Oh, sorry... snff... I didn’t realize,” she mumbled, her voice thick with congestion.

Joe observed her closely. Her eyes were getting smaller, her cheeks flushed, and she seemed unfocused. He could tell she wasn’t feeling well.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah.. I’mb just tired,” Taylor replied, but Joe wasn’t convinced. She sniffled harshly a couple of times, trying to get some air through her nose. “Snfff... SNFF... snffff... uhh. I’mb so stuffed up… snff.”

Joe reached over and rubbed her back soothingly. “How about I get you some more tea? It might help.”

Taylor nodded weakly, and Joe went to the kitchen. When he returned with a steaming cup, he saw just how flushed and uncomfortable she looked.

“I think you’ve got a fever again, baby,” Joe frowned, moving one hand to Taylor’s forehead and pressing his palm flat against her clammy skin. It felt relieving, easing some of the pressure of her pounding headache, and Taylor sighed inadvertently.

“I dod’t have a fever,” she argued weakly, with another sharp sniffle.

“Yes, you do. And you need a tissue,” Joe said gently, reaching for a tissue as Taylor’s delicate nostrils began to quiver and flare, irritated by the clear, watery snot trickling sluggishly from her nasal passages down the divot in her upper lip.

“I’mb fuhh...fide...sniff!...” Taylor grabbed the tissue clumsily from Joe’s outstretched hand, pressing it firmly to her flaring nostrils as they fought to release the wet tickle lodged inside her head, making her breath hitch and her eyes flutter shut. “Uhhh...huh...uh'tchooo!! ... Snff... ehhISHOOoo!!”

The blonde girl snapped forward sharply at the waist, surrendering to two miserably congested sneezes, the damp tissues clamped over her nose and mouth to shield her boyfriend from the spray.

“Ughh, excuse be,” she sighed softly. She reached for the tissue box for a fresh tissue, finding it almost empty. “Oh, do we habe ady mbore tissues?.. Snff.”

“I’ll go find some more, but you need to take more medicine first,” Joe said, concern etched on his face. He quickly got up to find another box of tissues and a wet cloth for her fever. She protested weakly, saying she was already feeling cold, but Joe’s concern made her cave in. She let him place the cloth on her forehead, immediately shivering from the cold.

“Ughh... Id’s so cold... Snff... Snfff,” she muttered, her nose running. She sneezed congestedly into her soggy tissues. “Hhuh...uhtchOOoo!!! Ishhxiew!! Snfl...ah...snfl...ahhh...aht'chhhew!!!” Each congested sneeze brought a weak shiver.

Joe noticed her over-used tissues and opened the new box, snatching a few and giving them to her. “I’mb so sorry I’mb so gross,” Taylor said, grabbing the tissues and blowing her nose again, the gurgling sound just as wet as before, if not more so.

“Hehh...ISHHuhh!! Hih'HHTchuh!!! Snnfl...ughh, 'scuse be,” she chuckled weakly, unfolding the tissues once and blowing again.

“God bless you, baby! And stop saying that, you are not gross. You are just sick,” Joe told her gently, reaching for the tea cup he had brought a few minutes ago and she had yet to drink. “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Thadk you, love,” Taylor said, taking a sip. The warm tea felt wonderful on her sore throat and shivering body. “This is so good...”

“I’m glad you like it,” Joe said, smiling.

“I’mb sorry I’mb being such a baby... snff,” Taylor wiped her nose on her sweatshirt, feeling a bit embarrassed about being so whiny with Joe, who was being incredibly sweet and patient.

Joe leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You’re allowed to feel bad, Tay. It’s okay.”

Taylor smiled weakly, sniffling again as she leaned into Joe’s comforting embrace. They continued talking about friends, work, and upcoming events, with Joe’s gentle reassurances making her feel a little better despite her worsening cold. ------

“I’mb dot really hungry,”

“How about some homemade soup? Nice and easy on your stomach.” Joe tried again, determined to take care of her.

Taylor looked at him amused and laughed softly. “You’re godda cook for mbe? Real food?”

Joe grinned. “Yes, real food. You just sit tight on the couch, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“There’s ndo way, snfff,” Taylor said, shaking her head. “I wadda see it happendig or else I wod’t believe it.”

Together, they went into the kitchen, where it became clear Joe didn’t know where to start. Taylor, ever the controller, started gathering ingredients. Joe, seeing what she was doing, playfully grabbed her by the waist and forced her to sit down on the kitchen island.

“No, no, no, no,” he laughed, holding her firmly. “You’re not lifting a finger. You are sick, remember?”

She joked, “I dod’t wadt to get food poisodig od top of by cold.”

Joe grinned. “You can help me by just giving instructions, okay?”

“Fide,” Taylor agreed, her voice thick with congestion. And started telling him where he could find everything.

As they started cooking, Taylor sniffled and sneezed every few minutes. “All right,” she said, “first you ndeed to grab the... heh... uhhh... Hhuh...hhtchhxiew!! ...Snff... the cuttihg board.”

Joe followed her directions, occasionally glancing over to make sure she was okay. “Now you habe to be carefull, first put sobe of the.. hehh..” Taylor´s voice trailed off for a moment, eyes narrowing as she raised a hand halfway to her face, looking like she was maybe going to sneeze;

“The what?” Joe asked, oblivious of her girlfriend´s current dilemma

“Th.. theh.. hHehh..” she nodded woozily, too distracted by the unbearable tickly feeling in her head to continue with the recipe. She pressed a finger under her running nose and rubbed hard. “Sniff.. snfff” "Just odehhh...huhh..." Her brows knit together as if she were trying to remember something important “Heeh...hh-Hh Hh-hiiishOOoo!!! Snfl... snff.. excuse mbe”

“God bless you!” Joe says cheerfully, chuckling as he passes her girlfriend some tissues “You good there?” He watches as she blows her nose

“Yeah.. snff.. sorry” She mumbles kind of embarrassed, face behind her tissues.

“Okay.. now, where were we?” He asks as he turns to the pot again to resume his cooking.

Finally, after a while the soup was ready. Joe poured some into a bowl and handed it to Taylor.

“Thank you for being an excellent sous chef,” Joe said with a smile. Taylor laughed softly, “Thadk you, baby” She smiles lovingly at him.

He leaned in to give her a kiss, but felt Taylor's soft, hitching intake of breath against his lips as they kissed. Soon their lips parted, and Taylor gave in to another sick, stuffy sneeze.

“Aah'chshht!! Snfl,” Taylor shivered with the force of the desperate sneeze, tissue pressed firmly to her cold-stuffed nose to protect Joe, who pulled back just enough to avoid getting head-banged.

“Uhhh...snfl...sorry, baby,” Taylor sighed woozily. “I tried to hold id, but I...snfl!...I just coulded't help it.”

“It's okay, T. I like your sneezes.” Joe winked, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Oh mby God, dod’t say that,” Taylor giggled, blushing.

“It’s the truth,” he said charmingly, stealing another kiss from her lips and planting one on the tip of her red nose.

“You wod’t like theb so mbuch whed they stard combig fromb your own nose,” she teased, sniffling softly.

Joe just stood there looking at her with heart eyes and a smile. He couldn’t resist stealing another kiss from her cheek, making a soft “mwah” sound. Charmed by the notion that his boyfriend still thought she was cute when she was half-drowning in snot, Taylor joked weakly,

“I guess you really do love mbe, huh?”

Joe agreed, dropping one final kiss on his girlfriend's warm forehead. “I guess I really do.”

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Why?

Requested: No

Warnings: Light angst, Robot!Reader

A/N: Wow, two preferences in one day? What the hell was in my chocolate this morning?

You couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t….couldn’t understand it. Comprehend it. Accept it. That this person, this living breathing human being, was really treating you like this. That they seemed to….value you in some way. At first you had thought of it as a joke, a cruel one that they shared amongst themselves. Tease the bot, remind them of their place. It was a game you were all too familiar with, and always ended up with a pain in your chest, right where a beating heart would be for a human being. But this person….they were so nice. So genuine in their actions, so unlike all the others you had met over the years. And they had taken care of you, patched you up and repaired you, given you a purpose in this life after you had been tossed aside like common trash, left to rust and deteriorate in a scrap pile, barely clinging to that last bit of battery life, to consciousness. You remembered exactly what you thought of before the lights inside you dimmed.

I don’t want to die.

And you hadn’t. Something that had been quite a shock to you when you woke up in a dark room. The rust scrubbed from your plates, your gears and joints oiled, your battery in the middle of a long recharge. By a cable no less! You couldn’t remember the last time you had been charged by one of those instead of the wireless charging that had become common over the years.

You were alive. You had been given a second chance. And you were determined not to waste it. But that doubt lingered in you, festered like infection in an open wound. And one day, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question that plagued you since the day you woke up in their home.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Treating me like a person.”

Price

Price hummed softly, the question not entirely unexpected. It’s likely that he was already questioning that himself for some time now. Ever since he brought you into his home, started fixing you up, growing so attached to you so quickly. Sitting by your bed as he waited for your servers to turn on, replacing your batteries so many times he lost count. So gentle whenever he had to open you up to fix something. Even giving you your own room, and a bed to lay on. And complete and utter freedom to do…whatever you wanted. Sure he’d always been a bit kinder to bots everywhere, some part of him unable to separate their human faces from their mechanical insides, but with you it was like it was dialed up to a thousand. He looked at you, and he couldn’t see anything but a living breathing person.

“....Dunno, Love.” He’d say, tilting his head as he met your eyes. The clear crystal blue soft and shimmering under the moonlight that shone in through the kitchen window. “You want me to stop?” He asked, seeming pleased when you shook your head. “Good. That’s all that matters then.”

Gaz

“You get bonked on the head again, Love?” Gaz would ask in return, arching his brow at you before bending over to pick up a box left at the front door. A new cooling fan for you, since yours was starting to malfunction. “That’s about the dumbest question I've ever heard. You’re a person. Course i treat you like people.” He says, cutting open the box before pulling out the small fan. “Don’t matter that you need things like this. That your insides are different then mine. You’re a person all the same. And I'd bet my last pound that, if such a thing as souls exist, you got one just like me. One much shinier and brighter, all good and perfect. I just know it.” He tells you, a bright sunshine-like smile crossing his face, and you could feel your broken whirring to life as your circuits malfunctioned and started to burn molten hot, heating up your whole body until your systems had to do a mandatory shut down just to avoid melting anything. Leaving Gaz to panic and damn near tear the house to pieces looking for the tools to open you up and replace that damn fan.

Ghost

A slow blink, a tilt of the head. Cold eyes raking over you in thought. Thinking through every word meticulously, making sure nothing left his mouth until he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you. It took a few minutes, anxiety inducing silence that would have you sweating if you were capable of such a thing. Until finally, blessed finally, he graced you with a soft response.

“You are a person.” He whispered, so soft that you almost didn't hear him. He repeated it, a bit louder when you tilted your head in confusion. “You are a person. To me at least. Maybe not to all those bellends outside, but to me. I’ve seen you laugh, get upset, excited, curious. I’ve never met someone who has so much personality to them before. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, because they don’t know you like I do. They haven’t seen every beautiful part of you that you try to hide behind a disguise of being just a bot. I know. And I’ll make sure that you know it soon enough to, so you don’t ever ask any daft questions like that ever again.”

Soap

“Watcha mean, Love?” Soap will ask, head tilted in utter confusion. Like you just asked him something in gibberish, brows scrunched together and mouth twisted in a little pout. “Tha’s a dumb question. You are a person. Course I treat you like one.” He says, shrugging his shoulders before turning back to your dismantled arm piece, adjusting some of the little screws and oiling the gears. It was almost funny how he could say that so casually, as if he wasn’t fixing your mechanics right this instant, his fingers tenderly stroking over metal and silicon, like he was scared he might hurt you if he pressed too hard. You didn’t even get the chance to protest his statement before he was opening his mouth again, effectively cutting you off. “I dinnae wanna hear anymore ah that talk, Lovey. You’re a person, my person. Simple as that.” He says, turning to give you a soft smile, hand reaching out to touch your cheek. His hands calloused and rough, but oh so warm. You could feel your motors backfiring, sensors heating up beneath his touch. And that grin on his face took a mischievous turn when he noticed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Glad we had that chat then, Love.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

The Rot: Patient Zero

An infection is spreading across all of Cybertron and not a spark knows what is going on. Ratchet has been called upon to inspect patient zero to try and find the cause of all this. It ends as well as one might expect.

This is a little gift for my dear friend @spreadwardiard and their fantastic fic The Rot.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Where is the patient?” The datapad in Ratchet’s servo cracked as he clutched it a little too tightly. He cursed softly and strode forward with greater speed, First Aid scurrying alongside him.

“We have found several infected patients, but the one we are going to is in the far room, the most secure part of the facility.” First Aid supplied with a hint of worry in his voice. Ratchet hummed and looked over the datapad again. 

Hundreds of reports of a strange virus infecting the lower levels had begun to spread like a wildfire. Every few kliks there was another ping and yet another designation added to the growing list of those infected with the virus. This was an outbreak, and it was growing worse at rapid speed. Ratchet had already given the order to close off the upper regions of Iacon, but the middle and lower levels were being overtaken by whatever this was.

They needed to understand it and find a cure fast. There had been no casualties yet, but Ratchet had seen the Rust Plague. He knew how quickly something so simple as a mere respiratory malfunction could turn deadly. 

“We believe this is patient zero, correct?” Ratchet inquired as he passed by several holding cells where infected individuals were pacing mindlessly. Looking over them briefly, they seemed… lost. Their optics were hazy and their movements disjointed. Most were mumbling about nonsense, but there was a common theme that left a worrying fear nagging at the back of Ratchet’s mind.

“Hungry… need… energon.” Ratchet grimaced slightly as he passed by a particularly delirious patient. The mech was leaking oral fluids, seemingly without any care whatsoever. His frame seemed gaunt, almost emaciated. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Yes, the patient we are going to meet is indeed the one we believe to be the original carrier of the virus. He was at a bar at the time and the infection has spread from that location since. And while we do have enforcers down there trying to keep things in order-” First Aid fidgeted and stepped back hastily as one patient flew against the bars separating him from the hall. The patient’s face was the embodiment of madness, and his expression was lopsided, almost as though he’d had a spark attack and was still recovering.

“What do we know so far? What are the symptoms?” The mech gurgled worryingly as Ratchet grabbed First Aid by the arm and pushed on. First Aid stumbled for a moment before replying. Ratchet took care to not look at any of the patients in the optic directly. He hated keeping patients behind bars, but they were too dangerous to be interacted with. 

“Severe hunger, madness, disorientation, mobility loss, and in the most severe cases, plating loss. It seems to be a degenerative virus that weakens the frame over time.” Ratchet nodded and passed First Aid the datapad as they approached a door. It was thick, black proof based on the structure of it. A wise place to keep patient zero.

“Give me a hazmat suit. I am not going in there just to catch whatever this is.” First Aid was quick to follow the given order and collected a suit from the nearby lockers. Within a klik, his apprentice was back by his side with the materials. Ratchet always hated the suites, but they were useful despite their appearance.

Neon green boots and leg coverings slid on first, kept in place by straps that were fitted over his shoulders. They dug into his seams, but with the covers coming up to his mid waist, there would be no risk of fluid getting near his exposed cabling or plating. Next came the gown with First Aid had to get a stool to help Ratchet get into. The thing was also disgustingly bright green and it fell over his helm without issue. Getting his arms into the sleeves was a nightmare with his arm guards, but he managed. 

Gloves were strapped onto his wrists with tight bindings and the cuffs of his sleeves were tucked into the gloves just to be safe. As if he didn’t look ridiculous enough, the helm piece of the whole suit was quickly put into place. It was a relatively simple design. A draping helm cover fell down from his helm to his shoulders, held in place by straps under his chin. Then to top it all off, a cone shaped, almost beak like visor was slipped into place and locked on. The thing was almost entirely air tight, but there was plenty of room around his intake and optics so that he could run his air filtration systems without issue.

He looked like a hot mess, but he was ready. The bright purple mark of the medic stood proudly on his chest as he gestured for First Aid to step away and made his way through the door into patient zero’s containment chamber. 

“You are… Springstep, correct?” Ratchet called out, his voice coming out somewhat staticy through the communicator built into his mask. The mech in front of him had his arms bound behind his back, a safety measure to ensure he didn’t hurt himself or any staff. If they were doing things properly or if they had more time, the mech would have been given better accommodations.

As it was, patient zero was simply too dangerous to be handled properly.

“Yes? You are… a doctor?” The mech questioned, his optics hazy and uncertain as he looked Ratchet up and down. Ratchet made a noise of affirmation and edged closer to examine the mech. 

“I am. My designation is Ratchet.” Cautiously Ratchet shuffled forward until he was about a foot away from the mech. Springstep looked terrible just from a quick physical glance over. His complexion was awful, his facial protoform sunken in enough that it seemed as though it was stretched too thin. His frame was boney, his hips jutting out awkwardly almost as if he hadn’t had a decent fueling in stellar cycles. 

According to his files, he had been perfectly healthy up until about three cycles ago. Such rapid loss of mass was highly concerning. Perhaps it was a parasite? That would account for the lack of nutrients in the patient. However, it did not rationalize why the virus was spreading so rapidly. 

“Tell me how you are feeling and when your symptoms began to show themselves.” Ratchet ordered as he dutifully began running scans from a safe distance. Springstep was startlingly low on fuel. His systems were resorting to consumption of excess mass in order to keep functioning. There was no way a mech who was perfectly healthy mere cycles prior should have been suffering from third degree energon deficiency. 

“Rotted… broken… my insides burn… my processor… all foggy… started down at the docks.” Springstep attempted to speak, but his glyphs were broken and disjointed. Ratchet grimaced beneath his mask. This mech wasn’t going to make it. Such severe speech impediments combined with his frame’s state did not speak positively of his chances of survival. 

“Where by the docks did you encounter this virus? Do you know?” Ratchet continued his line of questioning even as he began sending pings back to the other medics outside. 

[[Lock down the lower levels entirely. Priority individuals and essential workers are to be moved to the upper levels and secured immediately. Begin administration of hazmat suit instruction to all medical personnel. Not a spark is to be seen without a suit from this point onward.]]

“Don’t… know…” Springstep trailed off and Ratchet frowned. This was just like the Rust Plague, and yet so much worse all at the same time. The virus was spreading just as fast, but the effects were worse, or rather more intense. The rust killed a mech slowly through corroding their insides. Whatever this was worked at an  accelerated rate and with incredible efficiency. It hadn’t even been three cycles and already patient zero was going to drop dead.

A lockdown was the bare minimum.

“Thank you Springstep. I will have one of my associates administer a sedative to help ease the pain-” Ratchet trailed off as Springstep lurched forward, his frame heaving as he purged green goo onto the ground. Springstep’s optics widened and cycled rapidly as he struggled. Ratchet knew that look, it was a sign of madness, the swift clarity before death that faded away into insanity. 

He didn’t hesitate to turn around and run.

Time seemed to slow as he crashed into the door, hurriedly trying to punch in the code to exit as Springstep growled like a wild animal and snapped his restraints. Energon rushed from the mech’s wounds, but he was rapid as he skidded forward, no intelligence remaining in his gaze.

“STAY BACK!” Ratchet lifted an arm just in time for Springstep to collide with him. The mech’s jaw clamped down tight on his arm, denta digging deep and tearing through protective plastic sheeting. Ratchet winced as pinpricks of pain shot up his arm from where Springstep’s denta had dug into him. But he did not waste another moment in kicking Springstep to the ground and rushing through the door as it opened.

He couldn’t use his servos to hurt a patient, but no one said anything about his pedes. 

“Sir! Are you alright!?” First Aid hurried forward, a welder in his servo. He was quick to begin welding the minor cut closed, and Ratchet allowed it. Once his apprentice was done, Ratchet sighed and pulled off his mask.

“I will be fine, but this is far worse than I thought. My orders still stand, but I want every sparkling in upper Iacon put in stasis for the time being. They won’t last more than thirty kliks under this virus.” First Aid nodded and began taking notes, but Ratchet did not wait around. His frame suddenly ached with exhaustion which he chalked up to having to beat a patient into the ground on short notice. It had been a long cycle of handling the situation. He needed rest. There wasn’t much he could do until his orders were implemented anyway.

[[This is a direct order from the CMO of Cybertron. The situation has been deemed a medical emergency for all of Cybertron. From now until the situation is dealt with, medical orders take precedence over all others. Comply or be removed from major cities effective immediately.]] 

He groaned as his message was sent out to every mech of importance in Iacon. His helm pounded and he found he didn’t have the will to make the long march back to his hab. He had a work office nearby. He would stop by there and take a nap as he’d done plenty of times before.

“By the Allspark, this is bad.” He murmured as he arrived at his office and stepped inside. He hadn’t even bothered to remove the suit. His limbs felt like lead and his helm pounded so much that he could hardly see straight. This wasn’t good. 

The bite on his arm burned and his very frame felt as though it were struggling to keep functioning. He hardly had enough time to close the door behind him before he fell to the ground, spark deep exhaustion pulling at him along with bursts of pain he couldn’t fight. 

His optics flickered and he weakly tried to move, to do anything. His limbs would not obey him, and as he lay on the hard ground heaving, he wanted to curse. He should have known better than to march off as soon as he’d interacted with a patient. At the time he had just been so very- -tired.