#temporary access codes

[chensionmi488]

The Smart Home Industry is rapidly evolving, and one of the standout brands is SwitchBot. Their innovative smart lock for the front door is transforming the way we think about home security. With its sleek design and advanced technology, the SwitchBot smart lock offers both convenience and peace of mind.

Imagine arriving home with your hands full and being able to unlock your door with just a tap on your smartphone! The SwitchBot smart lock integrates seamlessly with your existing door, making it an easy upgrade for any homeowner. Plus, it features a user-friendly app that allows you to grant access to family and friends remotely, monitor entry logs, and even set up temporary access codes for guests.

Not only does this smart lock enhance security, but it also adds a touch of modern technology to your home. Say goodbye to fumbling for keys and hello to a smarter, more secure way of living. Embrace the future of home security with SwitchBot's smart lock at your front door!

[nataliegardner6653]

Exploring the Benefits of the SwitchBot Smart Lock Front Door!

Hello everyone! I'm excited to share my experiences with the Smart Home Industry, particularly focusing on the amazing SwitchBot brand. Recently, I installed the SwitchBot Smart Lock on my front door, and I couldn't be happier with the decision!

The convenience and security it offers are unparalleled. I can now lock and unlock my door from my smartphone, and I love the peace of mind that comes with knowing my home is secure. Plus, it's incredibly easy to install, making it accessible for anyone looking to upgrade their home security.

SwitchBot's smart lock features a sleek design that complements my home's aesthetic, and the user-friendly app makes managing access for family and friends a breeze. I can even set temporary access codes for guests, which is perfect for when I have visitors.

Overall, my experience with the SwitchBot Smart Lock has been nothing short of fantastic. Embracing smart home technology has truly enhanced my lifestyle, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking to elevate their home security!

[europalocks-blog]

Convenience

Keyless Entry: smart lock eliminates the need for physical keys. You can unlock door with a smartphone app, a key fob, or even through biometric methods like fingerprints.

Remote Access: many smart locks allow you to unlock your door remotely, which is useful if you need to grant access to someone while you’re away.

Enhanced Security

Access Logs: Smart locks can provide detailed logs of who entered and when, adding an extra layer of monitoring and control.

Temporary access codes: you can create temporary or one-time access codes for guest’s service providers or other, ensuring that only authorized individuals can enter.

Integration with smart home systems

Automation: smart locks can integrate with home automation systems, allowing for seamless control along with other smart devices

Voice control: many smart locks are compatible with voice assistant like amazon alexa, google assistant enabling hands-free operation.

Improved Accessibility

For Those with Mobility issues: smart locks can be easier to operate for people with disabilities or mobility issues, as they often offer touchless or simplified access method.

No more Lockouts: with keyless entry the chances of locking out are significantly reduced, which is especially helpful in busy or stressful situations.

Durability and reliability:

Weather Resistant: many smart locks are designed or withstands various weather condition, making them suitable for external doors,

Battery Backup: most smart locks are battery operated with a backup power source, ensuring they remain functional even during power outages.

Ease of Management

Centralized control: if you have multiple smart devices, managing them through a single app can streamlined operations and make home management more efficient.

Auto Lock Feature: Some smart locks come with auto-lock functions that ensure the door locks automatically after a set period, enhancing security.

Customizable Access Options

Personalization: Users can set different levels of access for family members, friends or service providers and easily modify or revoke permission as needed.

Is it worth the investment?

Initial Cost: smart locks typically have a higher upfront cost compared to traditional locks; however, this cost may be offset by the convenience and security features they provide.

Ongoing costs: some smart locks may require subscription fees for advanced features or cloud services, so it’s important to factor in these potential ongoing expenses.

Technology Dependence: Relying on technology means you’ll need to stay updated on software updates and ensure your devices are compatible with your smart lock.

Overall if you value convenience enhanced security and integration with smart home systems a smart lock can be a worthwhile investment. It’s important to assess your specific needs and budget to determine if the benefits align with your lifestyle and preferences.

To know more about the electronics locks: https://www.europalocks.com/electronic-locks

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[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 4

A little treat in these trying times

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

***

The first time Daniel chirps (to Vlad’s knowledge, but it’s actually the fifth, he was just out of range in the GZ all the previous time) Vlad responds immediately. 

The boy attacks him just as viciously as ever, and Vlad assumes from then on that the boy is merely taunting him, crying out for family only to go “no, not you.”

Vlad ignores it from then on. It isn’t particularly frequent anyway.

When he hears him chirping back and forth with some other ghost somewhere on the East Coast he feels his eye twitch. 

He dismisses it, however. No doubt it is one of Daniel’s little ghost allies helping him try to antagonize Vlad into showing up just to be rejected again.

Well, Vlad won’t fall for Daniel’s petty tricks. He would be Vlad’s son in time one way or another, no need to indulge the boy’s temporary sense of superiority.

It is grating when it wakes him up in the middle of the night, but he goes back to sleep quickly after.

Midday, he thinks he might have to track down Danny’s little friend for a nice long chat about Not Doing That. But that’s an issue for later.

Before “later” can arrive, Vlad finds himself taken into “temporary custody” while the police search his house.

He goes peacefully, assured that they’ll find nothing amiss, all of his ecto materials tucked neatly away in a lab that is inaccessible any way other than phasing. And wrapped in lead just in case.

He does not notice that a member of the Justice League is involved, nor would he care, certain that none could find his lab. And utterly unaware of the JLD’s existence.

Not that the JLD is needed in this case.

Despite his best efforts to change every copy of the construction crews’ blueprints both digital and physical in order to eliminate knowledge of the inaccessible room, there’s no accounting for memory.

Officer Roger worked in construction before joining the force, and it was only less than a half a year ago that Masters’ Amity home was constructed. Officer Roger still remembers the doorless, windowless box they built alongside the small mansion itself. It’s nowhere to be found on the property, so he brings it up with his superior.

Orphan questions it - nearly giving the whole team heart-attacks in the process - but a simple “I used to work in construction” seems to be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

A two hour sweep with some metal detectors finds nothing.

Then Orphan reappears from the shadows, providing another jumpscare, before pressing a hand silently to the side of her head.

The crew watches in silence as well, giving their pulses a chance to slow.

A ten-count later Orphan’s hand drops, and she strides confidently to the rear-left corner of the mansion and points at the ground.

“200 feet beneath the foundation,” she says before disappearing back into the shadows.

The crew shares a look and gets to work.

The time it takes to dig up the cube is just more time spent in a cell for Vlad, where he waits patiently, assured he’ll be released soon enough.

The lab itself would be only a minor problem - there would be fines and inspections and a heavy watch until everything was brought up to code. Questions about how he accessed it would be a larger problem.

But worst of all, in the comfort of his lab? He’s not much for hiding away incriminating documents. 

Of which there are many, given his propensity for keeping extensive records of his experiments, which include unethical cloning and what sums up to human experimentation. 

Once they find the actual facilities for the experiments in his Wisconsin home? It will all be over for him.

Being a ghost he could, of course, simply flee the cell and start anew somewhere else, with a new identity or even in a new dimension altogether - so long as he could nab Maddie and her children to bring with him.

But within his labs, he also keeps extensive records of himself.

A copy of the Plasmius Maximus.

Other ghost- and halfa-capturing restraints.

When he hears steps approaching his cell 2 days into his stay when it is clearly not a mealtime, he thinks “finally” assured that he is about to be released.

He only registers that it is Batman after he’s been hit by the Plasmius Maximus - cut off from his powers for at least the next two hours.

He has no chance to complain, as he is subsequently tranqued unconscious to be taken to a more secure location.

***

It’s an hour and half after school let out when the cops - who had taken to trying to distract Jazz and Danny with cards games and work stories while they waited - step away to answer their radios. 

When they return, they tell them that it’s “time to go.”

The siblings share a look, then shrug.

It wouldn’t be the first time the cops had to drive them home - rare though it was, there were at least 4 such occasions in their memories. It wasn’t a big deal.

They were less than enthused when the cops explained that they’d be heading to take them to the station instead of to home. Still, they chalked it up to the whole “questions about the Red Hood” thing and moved on. 

At least it meant they could dodge a home visit like Danny had wanted.

Except when they get there, they are taken to a cushy room and introduced to their social worker, a woman with a kind smile and a soothing voice who introduces herself as Bethany Scott, sits them down and explains, very gently, that their parents are currently under investigation.

To her credit, she isn’t condescending. She doesn’t try to hide away the truth; when they ask why, she tells them.

It’s a surprisingly long list of charges. Of everything on it, the violation of the meta protection acts comes as the biggest surprise.

Their parents were obsessive about ghosts, but they were also good at it. They never attack anything that doesn’t have ectoplasm.

Well, barring a few misfires.

Another surprise comes then: the Anti-Ecto Acts don’t exist. Ghosts are covered by the MPA by design, the AEA would never have gotten off of the ground in any legal capacity. It is solely a creation of the GIW, an extreme “‘real’ humans only” supremacist group that had worked at every level to pull the wool over the eyes of the small town’s citizenry so thoroughly that they’d been thought a real government agency - the imitation of which would be just one of the many charges that every member they managed to capture would be facing.

Then Mrs Scott starts talking about placement options.

Their Aunt, they are told, is not an option. 

It comes as a surprise to Danny. On quiet nights, when no ghosts showed up to interrupt him and Sam and Tucker weren’t up to distract him with a game of Doomed, his mind would sometimes wander back to that darkest of timelines.

He’d wondered how Vlad had ended up with custody. Being his godfather made him an option, but Danny would’ve wanted to go with Alicia. Will be damned, Danny would’ve plead on both knees with the judge to go with his aunt. Grieving or not, he’d have wanted as much distance between him and Vlad as possible,

He’d assumed Vlad must have done something to her or paid off the judge to rule in his favor.

To find out it was because she simply wouldn’t take him?

A part of him understands. He doesn't - Aunt Alicia is a kind person, yes, but not particularly loving or caring. When his parents brought up the subject of children with her on one of their rare visits, she described herself as having “less motherly instinct than a starving axolotl.”

Not an encouraging description after he read a book on axolotls for context. 

With their options being “Aunt in a small wood cabin in the middle of nowhere with the emotional sensitivity of a bull in a china shop” and “Rich friend of the family who would enable them to stay in contact with their friends and could hire them therapists even if he’s personally useless for helping them through the grieving process” she probably also figured marking herself down as a solid non-option would just expedite them getting the help they need (because she does care, even if she herself can’t - won’t - be there for them in that way).

He doesn’t hate her, but the knowledge burns. To know that there really was no avoiding Vlad - in that horrible future and in the now - makes him sick to his stomach.

Except-

Except before he can spiral, Mrs Scott tells them that Vlad is also not an option. Because he’s also under investigation.

A hysterical giggle bursts past his lips before he can think to stop it.

“Why?” he asks, ignoring Jazz’ disapproving grimace.

It’s less funny when they’re told that he’s under investigation under suspicion of mostly the same violations as their parents - including MPA violation, given the whole “million dollar ghost” incident and related propaganda. As the mayor especially, he should’ve known the AEA weren’t real and that the GIW were frauds and it was his responsibility to do something about them.

Depending on how he’d interacted with the group, he might be looking at aiding and abetting treason - or just outright treason - charges.

“If Aunt Alicia and Vlad both aren’t able to take us, then where are we going to go?” Jazz asks, shoving her emotions aside to deal with the matter at hand.

“Ordinarily, we would call up a few local fosters and see if one could take you in for a few days while we look into more long-term options. Worst case scenario you would have to spend a night or two in a hotel suite connected to mine while I found someone,” she answers. “But the two of you are in luck; Batman is the one who brought the case to our attention - apparently some erratic behavior from Red Hood brought them here, don’t ask, I don’t have all the details - and offered to run your parents’ DNA to check for other relatives that could take you. There was a match.”

The siblings share another look.

Both grandparents on their mother’s side had been only children and both were dead. Aunt Alicia had already said no and had no children of her own. Their father had been disowned by his family, and even if their other Aunts and Uncles would have been willing to take them in it didn’t matter, because all 5 had died in various accidents on their “hunts.”

“Apparently your uncle, Jerry Fenton, had a fling before he passed with one Ms Sheila Haywood. Their son, Jason, was thought to be the son of Willis Todd and Mrs Haywood until the DNA test today. He was raised by Willis and Mrs Catherine Todd until his subsequent adoption by Mr Bruce Wayne, and is currently living in Gotham.”

And it sounds wrong - the only thing most Fentons could love was mystery and danger - thus why only one out of six had survived. But they don’t know enough to dispute it.

Also. The involvement of another billionaire is setting off alarm bells. On the one hand: this could be a fruitloop paying someone off in order to forcibly adopt them. On the other hand, maybe Jason Todd really was a Fenton and being adopted by fruitloops was some kind of curse on the current generation.

“We contacted Mr. Todd the moment the connection was made. He has expressed an interest in taking you in, and flew out immediately to come and meet you. He arrived not five minutes ago.”

She paused and gave them a sympathetic look. 

“I understand that this is all a lot to take in. Please know that placing you with Mr. Todd is not the end of my duties; even after he takes you, I will be following you to Gotham. I’ll be looking into counselors for the both of you, and we’ll have a follow up on that topic in a maximum of a week’s time. I’ll also be doing regular home checks to ensure you’re both settling in well and that you’re being taken good care of. 

Even with what little I’ve gleaned, it is obvious that the environment you both grew up in until now was neither a safe nor a healthy one. It is my job to ensure that doesn’t happen again. If you have any concerns about your placement home now or in the future, please do not hesitate to bring them up with me. If you worry something is not “important” enough to mention, rest assured that if it bothers you in the slightest, then it’s important to me.”

She gives them each a long look.

Then she brings in Jason.

[damnfeelings09]

A.N: special thanks to the lovely @xobunni0 I love how you write my boy and futuristic lovers is a masterpiece. This one is inspired in the song E.T as well as on your work, thank you darling! I suggest you all go to her blog if you haven't already.

Also, you will find OC name here (like in other pov's of mine) but this is still an xreader ff, it's just that I dont quite like putting y/n or _____ :( sorry *Also (this is the last one I promise) english is not my first lenguage so there could be some grammar errors and so, sorry in advance!

E.T - Shadow's version

“You're so hypnotizing Could you be the devil? Could you be an angel?”

190605. You entered the code, and the door made a metallic sound before opening, revealing a second door that required voice access.

“Special Agent Dr. Moon,” you said confidently. The door opened for you. You walked into the GUN facility; floor -16 was cold and dark, the lights flickering on as you made your way to room 296. You scanned your ID and waited a few seconds before turning the handle. There, in front of you, was the hedgehog you loved so much. The ultimate lifeform was lying on the cot, tossing a ball and hitting the ceiling over and over again. His ears twitched, catching the unmistakable sound of your heels.

“Back so soon?” he said, sitting up. “Careful, doc, they’ll think you’ve lost your mind.”

“And do we care?” you smiled, standing just a few inches away from the large polycarbonate cristal like wall that separated you. You quickly raised your hand and rested it against the wall. Shadow didn’t waste any time, using his speed to reach your side in one second, placing his hand against yours.

“Your touch, magnetizing Feels like I am floating Leaves my body glowing”

You didn’t really know when or how it had happened. You had been working in GUN's medical wing for five years, initially as a field medic, until, after two years, you were promoted to Head of Medical Staff. Later, you decided to focus on Mobian medicine—not because you had much to work with, but when the opportunity arose to learn more about this fascinating species, you couldn’t refuse. At first, it was just a few check-ups for Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, a few tests for speed and strength, samples of their fur and blood, studying their anatomy and physiology. While it wasn’t all that different from humans, it wasn’t exactly the same either. They healed faster, could endure higher levels of pain and temperatures—something that would kill an average human would only cause temporary damage to a Mobian. Furthermore, human diseases didn’t affect them, but that didn’t mean their diseases couldn’t cause a worldwide pandemic.

Eight months ago, Commander Hillsprung had tasked you with analyzing a different specimen. Something that wasn’t entirely Mobian, but also wasn’t human. In fact, no one was sure what it was—the Project Shadow, as everyone called it. At first, the project was falling apart. Despite Shadow volunteering, he didn’t agree with the tests they were putting him through. Five different people had tried to study him—scientists, physicists, even veterinarians—but he wouldn’t let anyone get close enough. He’d remove the equipment, refuse to give samples. They didn’t know what else to do. Just when it seemed like the research would fail, that’s when you appeared.

“They say, be afraid You're not like the others”

Shadow looked at you attentively. You hadn't approached him like the others, nor did you look at him the same way they did. Although he could sense the uncertainty, there was something else… curiosity, perhaps admiration? He wasn't sure, but he knew you were different. The fascination you felt for him was written all over your face, like a big, glowing sign. This allowed Shadow to lower his guard, just a little.

You spoke to him and recognized him for what he was—an equal. Over time, Shadow grew accustomed to your presence. You would arrive early, much earlier than the other agents, and have a brief conversation where you'd tell him about the findings you'd made about him. Shadow always listened with interest to everything you said, enjoying the fruit you had kindly brought him. He could hear the enthusiasm and excitement in your voice, loved the smile that appeared when you made a new discovery, and noticed how you furrowed your brow when the tests didn’t turn out as expected.

"It will work," Shadow would tell you as he followed you across the room from his side of the glass.

"And what if it doesn’t? I’ve failed the last three attempts. The component isn’t stable enough; I can’t reach your DNA. My samples are running out."

"There’s more where that came from," he remarked, shrugging in a nonchalant tone.

"I don’t want to puncture you with the needle again. Your skin heals in less than a minute, the wound has to be large enough to get a good sample, plus... I don’t like hurting you," you said, meeting his gaze.

"You’re the only one here who cares about me. I only trust you to do this. Besides, this will help me know where I come from, what I am, who I am."

When you heard him say that, something inside you broke. Shadow was alone, lost, and trusted you to help him learn everything he could about himself. Instinctively, you took his hand, intertwining your fingers through the small window where they passed his food.

"I promise I will."

“Boy, you're an alien Your touch, so foreign It's supernatural Extraterrestrial”

After that, Shadow had become dependent on you, and you on him. At first, you controlled it well, one or two stolen glances, shared smiles, the brush of your hands when you examined him, staying late to see him again, pretending you had forgotten an instrument in his room just to open the door and sit by his side, shoulder to shoulder, all to be close to him. That worked, until a speed test at the HRW training center (used to me High Range Weapons center) of GUN. A stupid agent launched rockets toward Shadow, boasting that if he truly was the ultimate lifeform, it wouldn’t be anything for him. Six heat-seeking rockets pursued Shadow across the platform as you shouted at the agent while trying to stop the missiles with the computer. "Let it go," said Commander Hillsprung. "But... but sir, Shad... Project Shadow is not ready yet, the tests are still incomplete in the lab, it’s too risky considering the new rings are inhibiting his powers even more." "If I didn’t know you, Agent, I’d think you were concerned about the... alien." You paled at his accusations. No one, especially Commander Hillsprung, could know that you were fraternizing with Shadow. "They wouldn’t understand," you thought. "N-no, sir, not at all. I just think about what’s best for the research," you said, controlling your breathing as calmly as possible. "Then let the test proceed. It’s time for the ultimate weapon to show us what it’s made of."

You couldn’t do anything but watch as Shadow jumped and ran, dodging the missiles. Yes, he was the most powerful being on the planet, heck… he was the most powerful being in the galaxy as far as you knew, but knowing that he couldn’t use all of his powers to save himself made your insides twist with dread. Shadow dodged four of the missiles with the grace and ease of a gazelle. He was fast, strong, precise. Every hit he delivered destroyed the missile without leaving a scratch. When only two missiles remained to be destroyed, Shadow stopped, standing still in the middle of the platform. A small smirk appeared on his face as he thought, "Is this all they’ve got? Pathetic." Both missiles were heading toward him, but just before they hit, Shadow leapt so high, leaving the missiles below him as they exploded into each other. You celebrated Shadow’s victory, while the high-ranking officials watched in stunned silence at what had happened. The agent who had launched the missiles had his jaw clenched so tightly that you’d swear his teeth were going to break. He was upset, no, he was furious. He was tired of that lab rat taking all the attention.

“You're so supersonic Wanna feel your powers Stun me with your laser “

You quickly made your way to the training center entrance, running towards Shadow while cheering him on for the excellent job he had done, your heart racing with excitement, overjoyed with happiness, as you extended your arms toward him. He met halfway, smiling, happy with what you had both achieved together.

“Your kiss is cosmic Every move is magic”

You enjoyed the moment so much, the warmth of your arms, that you didn’t notice when a seventh missile was launched directly at you. With no time to get both of you out of there, and without his Chaos Control to teleport, he decided to save you. It didn’t matter what would happen to him, Shadow only knew you had to be safe. He threw you a few meters away from him, your body hitting the hard ground and your head slamming against the wall. Your vision was blurry, and the ringing in your ears made it impossible to recognize anything around you. Someone grabbed your arm, shaking it, and in the distance, you heard your name, but couldn’t understand anything else. More agents ran to the left of the training room, and a stretcher passed in front of you. The next thing happened like a flash. The stretcher carried something black on it, cables and tubes surrounding a thin, small body, agents in lab coats running behind the stretcher. That’s when you reacted to what had happened. Shadow had been hit by the missile’s explosion directly in an attempt to save your life. As best as you could, you got up and ran after the stretcher, stumbling along the way. Your colleagues tried to stop you, but there was no force in the world that could separate you from Shadow.

“This is transcendental On another level Boy, you're my lucky star”

Regaining your vision, you approached the medical room where they had Shadow. His jet-black fur, once as bright as the night sky, was now covered in dirt and bloodstains. He wore a mask covering his mouth and nose, his breathing was labored, and his heartbeat irregular. “An arrhythmia” you thought. The panic and fear of losing him overtook you, but this was not the time to run off and cry; Shadow needed you. "10mg of adenosine," you requested from the nurse beside you as you searched for the IV in his arm. "Dr. Moon, you should..." she tried to persuade you. "10mg of adenosine, NOW, or we're going to lose him." After administering the medication, you noticed his heart rate normalized to 250 bpm, something normal considering his condition and the fact that we were talking about a supersonic hedgehog. "I want everyone out of the room." "But, boss..." "Didn't you hear what I said? GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" The entire medical team exited the room. You quickly approached Shadow, took the device you always carried with you, and lowered the power of the inhibitor rings. Shadow needed to recover fast, damn it, you needed him to recover fast, and he wouldn't be able to achieve that if he was at 10% of his power.

“I wanna walk on your wavelength

And be there when you vibrate For you, I'll risk it all, all”

"You'll be fine," you said as you wiped his muzzle, removing the dirt and blood that you found along the way. Your hand rested on Shadow's cheek, it was warm, which was a good sign, right? You positioned yourself on his right side on the stretcher, counting each breath, each heartbeat. Shadow made a sound, a tiny whimper that you wouldn't have been able to hear if you weren't just inches away from his face. You quickly removed the mask from his snout, and he slowly opened his eyes, focusing his sight as if searching for something, until he saw you by his side. "Mo-mo...on?" he said, followed by a small whimper. "I'm here," you said, leaning in and bringing your forehead to his. Shadow sighed, gently stroking your cheek, relieved to see that you were alright. "You saved me," you whispered for both of you, your warm breath meeting Shadow's mouth.

“Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me Infect me with your lovin' Fill me with your poison Take me, ta-ta-take me Wanna be your victim Ready for abduction”

You both opened your eyes at the same time, the fire making itself present in the crimson orbs of Shadow, without thinking, without planning, you succumbed to what your heart longed for and kissed him. A deep, needed, desired kiss. Your tongues dancing together a dangerous waltz, small bites on your lower lip, courtesy of his sharp canines created the perfect mix between pain and satisfaction. Your hands stroking his quills, careful not to prick you, although at this point it was the least of your worries. The monitor that Shadow was connecting to shooting at 1000 lpm while taking you by the waist sitting you in his lap. Fuck, how much he wanted this, how much he needed this. It had been a while since the looks and smiles were no longer enough for him. Shadow had dreamed of this moment more than he would admit, spending his moments fantasizing about what it would be like to taste those pink lips, what flavor they had, if they were as smooth as he imagined.

They were not, it was even better than what he imagined.

You separated ‘cause the lack of air, with your breathing agitated, choppy, just before you pulled away, Shadow took you by surprise, giving a caress, licking your cheek, causing you to blush instantly, not because you disliked, but because he had seemed so... tender.

 Shadow’s heart rate normalized again, settling on the stretcher as a reddish blush painted his muzzle. The dim light, the rise and fall of your chest, the strands of hair falling over your face, your lips red from the make out session that had just occurred.

“A goddess” thought the hedgehog. You reached out for his hand, fingers entwined, no one said a thing, it wasn’t necessary. What you felt for each other was more than enough.

“Boy, you're an alien Your touch, so foreign It's supernatural Extraterrestrial”

[diejager]

Technical Issues Cw: smut, sex work, OnlyFans, porn, fuck machine, squirting, prostitution handjob, tell me if I missed any.

Part3

It started with a reluctant alliance between SpecGru and KorTac, two powerful PMCs that were tricked by the same employer, played and played again, unable to work alone to take them down. So both heads of the PMCs decided to work together to take down this problematic employer, which meant that they’d have to come and go between bases, sharing the same space and the same area. They were unenthusiastic about it, still holding a grudge against the other.

There was a technical issue in giving access to KoTac members sent over to the British base the right clearances for the compiled data, to-know intel and the statistics. That’s how König found himself in the database, looking up the different clearance codes to give him access to the information he needed before 1900, he only had half an hour to find the code if he didn’t want to miss the event.

Unfortunately, all he stumbled into was a page, a familiar name popping up on this person’s browser history. It was Soap’s. Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish, the snipe and demolition specialist that König knew from both experience and intel. It was a strange find, Soap had used a public browser to watch his nightly activities and had forgotten to wipe it clean —did he even wipe his history? Something ugly flared in König’s chest, an explosive warmth of possession and envy. How could’ve he not seen him on the chat when König spent so much time on it himself?

With dilated pupils and a one-track mind, he completed his search and rushed to his room, pushing past everyone he met in the hall with his broad shoulders and even bigger ego, nostrils flaring and seeing red. He knew this kind of reaction was nonsensical, near illogical on his par, seeing the type of content he consumed, but he couldn’t help it, he was the second highest payer.

Slamming and locking the door behind him, he ripped his mask off, throwing it haphazardly on the floor and ripped his clothes off, his skin hot to the touch in his cold room. It was 1857 —perfect. Settling himself on his temporary desk in nothing but his briefs, he felt his cock struggle against the fabric, head poking out on the side of his boxers. He was quick to open up the right tab, clicking in the sweet temptation of the profile picture.

A screen popped out, a familiar bed in a familiar setting with familiar objects surrounding the plush sheets, and in the middle, sat the little cherub of his dreams. Seraphim, the little slut that he was happy to spend his legacy on, to watch and indulge in the sinful act jerking off to a woman he might never meet or know outside of this screen. He pushed his waistband down his thighs and his cock swung out, hanging low between his legs, veins pulsing with the rush of blood from his head to his cock and uncut head drooling on his chair.

👑 gifted you 100$

“Hello, sir,” you smiled so sweetly at him, glossy lips pulled into an innocent image, “Thank you for the gift.”

He always gave you a gift at the start of each live he watched to get a greeting from you and would gift you much more with ever minute he spent watching you bend over your bed, ass up and face down, getting fucked by the fuck machine he gifted you. You had two cameras set up, one that let them view your tight cunt stretched around the silicone copy of his cock - thick and veiny - and one giving them a clear view of your tearful eyes and cock drunk expression.

König kept his eyes glued to your cunt, ploughed so roughly bu his girth that slick gushed around it, lips swollen and wet, and the little plug your pushed into your flared rim, the flat handle spreading your ass for them to see. He jerked himself, calloused fingers gripping the head of his cock and spreading pre down his shaft, the foreskin spread around his girth. He shuddered, his cock throbbing in his hand, reacting to the image of your ravaged and gasping figure taking the dildo so well, mewling and wailing like the angelic whore you were.

He wanted you to come, he wanted to see you squirt around the toy, slick rolling down your thighs in waves of pleasure, your voice breaking as you mewl and wail. He moved thoughtlessly, hand moving to type out his command, sending you more money, it was an addiction at this rate, his need to sustain you and your living. If you let him, he’d be your sugar daddy, paying for everything you’d need and you’d have the real deal, his hot and heavy cock rather than a silicone.

“Please let me come, sir!” Your begging had always been delicious and who was he to deny you of your pleasure when you brought him to his ground shaking climax.

He came with a loud groan, a deep rumbling in his chest, still pumping his cock as the head twisted, spraying his opaque cum over the table, white and viscous. His eyes rolled at the back of his mind, lids feeling heavy and body wracked with tremors, legs jerking as his hand slowed down, steadily riding out his mind-numbing release.

“Them too?” Horangi peered at the four Brits, an unamused gleam in his hidden eyes.

König nodded, his hood twisting with every motion, fingers moving gracefully over his rifle, dismantling and cleaning it after their recon mission. A groan caught his attention, his eyes moving from the beauty of his weapon to the cold blues that stared back at him.

“It does not matter,” Nikto’s voice had always been violent, a rough and jagged husk that exhumed power, “We found her first.”

It was a statement to himself, a strong and unyielding one that stemmed from Nikto’s dark and broken person, but they agreed.

Part 5

Taglist: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan @blackhoodlea @daisychainsinknots @under-the-dirt @moansteur @iamnotfinedaddy @0alk0msan @katzarantos @danielle143 @bubbletae7

[aspirationatwork]

Listen. Sit down around the fireplace with me for a moment.

Artists. Gif makers. People who like memes. Anyone who posts images.

Y'all have got to start writing your own image descriptions. You have to. You really really have to start doing it yourself.

Us, the blogs dedicated to accessibility, cannot keep doing it for you. Well, we can, but we shouldn't have to. We shouldn't have to dedicate our time and energy to make posts that are not ours accessible and you shouldn't expect strangers to do you favors, especially when the work is so thankless. For every post I describe, a hundred more are posted without one.

The original post should be accessible. Adding an image description through a reblog is a metaphorical bandaid when what's needed are metaphorical stitches. Someone's ability to access the internet should not be dependent on the goodwill of others and goodwill that can just be ignored at that. People can simply choose to not reblog an accessible version of a post, whether intentionally or out of ignorance.

We don't expect volunteers to construct temporary ramps for buildings, we expect the building to have its own ramp, built to code.

The next time you see or post art, or a meme, or a screenshot from Twitter, ask yourself- does someone with a visual impairment not deserve to know what this image is about? Why should you get to laugh at the joke and not them?

Just.....just do it. Just write image descriptions. There's loads of resources out there to help you and even more references from the people who care.

Just. Do it.

Start doing then.

Start telling other people to do them.

Start reblogging them.

Accessibility is a necessity and it is not optional.

[lightweaver-chosen-if]

Happy New Year!

So, I definitely missed the deadline I set for myself, and I'm really sorry!

Here's what's been going on the past few months. Ever since I discovered zero drafting (circa November 2024) I've been experimenting with it. While I’ve added a solid 50k words, there was no way I was going to publish it as it was...

Unless you want to read:

mc do circular movements with arms, lightning efx… then WOOSH they hit a tree and it fucking explodes

I've spent a lot of time lately turning all that into actual sentences and paragraphs. The fact that I really doubled down on making most of the text dynamic also slowed things down. I know people probably only read these games once, but I can't help it!

Writing and coding is hard. I really admire authors who consistently drop huge updates so fast 😫

Right now, I'm still only 70%~ finished with the new content, but since it's been too long, I'll be splitting it.

But for those curious, here's a quick rundown of the new stuff written:

A mini training scene with your chosen RO, where you can learn a move to impress your mentor with (and where a tree fucking explodes).

A 7-day training arc with a strict temporary mentor in preparation for the assessment, ending with a sparring match.

Encounters with the ROs, where you’ll start to learn more about them (sprinkled throughout the story; before, during, and after training).

The omitted content for now is the 7-day training arc and the last RO encounters before the actual assessment. If everything goes well, I might update again this month!

This year, I'm feeling very determined to focus on the game and hopefully finish it (or get close enough). I'm also planning to open a Patreon for regular sneak peeks & dev updates, early access, and some bonus content (little pieces I wrote lately to unwind) for those interested. This is all very new to me, so I'm just testing the waters!

I'll be back on January 15 with the update. For real this time!

For now, here are some sneak peeks!

Thank you for being patient! <3

[sodaneko]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟖: 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

♫ ratbag - look what you're doing to me

I don't bite my nails when you're around It's something that I have just noticed now You talk to me in your sleep, do you know? Do you know what you're doing to me?

✰ 𝐜𝐰: one (1) kms joke, a few slightly suggestive texts between Osamu & Y/N (it's always them isn't it)

⭅ back to m.list

It’s only temporary, just until they fix the burst pipe and the water damage that came with it over at your apartment, but oh, if this doesn’t feel oddly domestic. Two toothbrushes sitting on the bathroom shelf, matching tea cups you brought home from the Okinawa trip on the kitchen table, one set of pajamas but shared (Osamu got the pants, you the shirt). It’s a small apartment above the soon-to-be opened restaurant downstairs and the name on the door bell says Miya, but someone scribbled yours below his as well. 

A home. 

It’s still a little spare compared to your room and Osamu’s place in Osaka, but it’s coming together more with each passing day. There’s now plants in mismatched pots on the windowsill and a big carpet you once bought while traveling which you never had the space for until now. Framed photos with memories you made together over the past couple of months lean against the wall, waiting to be hung up. In the fridge are leftovers from last night’s dinner and two brands of soy sauce because you’re still bickering about which one is best. When the sun sets, the living room is dipped in warm orange hues.

Most importantly there’s a big comfy bed with the one who has your heart in it that makes getting up nearly impossible every morning. Osamu grumbles quietly in his sleep when you feel for your phone in the dark to shut the alarm off. The mornings are still chilly around this time of the year and you search for his warmth under the blanket before you inevitably have to get up. This quiet hour of the day is reserved for just the two of you. 

Osamu finds you, a big calloused hand on your waist tugging you towards him until your back meets his chest and your form melts against him. His arm wraps around your middle and keeps you close, his lips finding your nape and pressing sleepy kisses against your skin, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest when you tilt your neck to give him better access. He spells out an entire love letter with his fingertips against your skin, making sure you remember word for word by the time your lips find his in a soft kiss. Neither of you could get enough of the sweet nothings you shared in this tiny universe of your own. 

A lot has changed since you first met. Osamu and you found a language to translate your love into–words, gestures, touches. The fear in your heart has subdued, not fully gone but quieter, less overwhelming. There’s someone who holds your hand now when you’re scared, someone who catches you in his arms when you trip and stumble. 

“You got me now,” Osamu murmured against the shell of your ear, something between a plea and a promise, back then in Okinawa. The sound of the rain was drowned out by your beating heart when his lips brushed against your knuckles before kissing your palm, his face nuzzling into your touch. You felt like drowning in his warm, honest eyes, never so sure of anything before. 

“I love you,” you whisper now against the crook of his neck when you roll over, basking in his warmth for a few moments longer before you have to get up. Osamu lets out a small weary sigh, unwilling to let you go but there’s still a smile tugging on his lips. He takes your hand and places it on his chest, right above his beating heart which stutters your name out in morse code. With one last kiss to your forehead he lets you peel away, the three words falling from his lips like a good luck charm for the day.

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

so. they did elope after all

the kind of thing you keep saying as a joke until it isn't a joke anymore huh

all of Akaashi's wedding planning down the drain

Omi kept crashing out for six consecutive hours

wedding photo credits to kemmiethecat. obsessed with her work

this chapter is very special to me and i kept delaying it because i'd start crying whenever i tried to beta read it (they're just very precious to me and knowing their story is coming to an end two chapters from now is playing with my heart)

anyway. another day of pining after osamuyn. i wanna thirdwheel them sooo bad you have no idea

congrats to the happiest couple ♡

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@brithedemonspawn @giasssslife @yuminako @krissiekris @evilari111

@ottocre @kentocalls @maybespiderman @uncovered-mad-man @honey-deku

@yukichan67 @dailyakira @morgan-lowell @angee444 @aldebrana

@ellouisa17 @toges-cough-syrup @mahalsuya @itsdragonius @bakingcuriosity

@nekomasmngr @tojirin @nymphsdomain @thatprettybunny @joseimukeaddict

@writing-for-the-hell-of-it @honeytwo @estreya05 @jisookdays @blueballslock

@lonelycrystal-star @weezerbby @iluv-ace @s777athv @kameyyy

@localgaytrainwreck @mirkaaaluv @elliesndg @mollysmovingcastle @weirdgirlbrina

@nobodybutnnoorr @blueflamebimbo @softpia @pet-plasma-bubble @meekydeeks

@mythblossoms @manhattanstrawberry @sunahyejin @arattaaki @anniewings

taglist full, sorry! fill out this form to be removed or added in case a spot clears up. mdni!

[onlyyoucanhurtlikethis]

- I get to choose. kylian mbappe, one shot

Her new apartment in Madrid was small but chic—all clean lines and warm light, with windows that let the late-afternoon sun spill across the hardwood floors. The kind of place that felt temporary, like she was just visiting, even though she wasn’t.

Kylian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching as she unpacked a box labeled ‘kitchen stuff’ in scrawled marker. He looked amused. And a little annoyed.

“You know this is unnecessary, right?” he said, leaning casually like he hadn’t just dropped his training bag by the door and claimed the space like it was his. Because, in his mind, it was.

She didn’t look up. “It’s my apartment. I like it.”

“You could’ve just moved in with me.”

She sighed, unwrapping bubble wrap from some overpriced glassware she already regretted buying. “I need my own space, Ky.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “Why?”

She turned, leaning her hip against the counter. “Because I just moved countries for you. I love you, but I need to breathe.”

His jaw twitched. “So living with me is suffocating?”

She laughed, low and knowing. “You know how you are.”

“How am I?”

She shot him a look, sharp but fond. “Possessive. Controlling. Always needing to know where I am. Tracking my location like I’m your player on the pitch.”

He smirked, unapologetic. “That’s called caring.”

“That’s called being a control freak.”

He shrugged, stepping closer. His hands slid onto her waist, thumbs pressing into the sharp curve of her hips like he was staking a claim.

“You like it,” he murmured against her ear.

She tilted her head slightly, giving him more access. “Sometimes.”

His mouth skimmed her jaw. “Move in with me.”

“I literally just signed a lease.”

“Break it.”

“Jesus.”

His grip tightened, possessive and gentle all at once. “Or don’t. Just know my house is your house. Whenever you want. Key, alarm code, all of it. You come and go as you please.”

Her chest squeezed in that stupid way it always did when he said shit like that. “I know.”

He kissed her—slow, deep, like he had time to kill. She melted into it because, of course, she did. Her fingers slid into his hair, tugging just a little. He made that noise she liked, low and rough in his throat.

“You smell good,” he murmured against her lips.

“You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed him again, nipping his bottom lip because she liked when his eyes went dark like that. His hands slipped under her shirt, thumbs brushing over bare skin. He didn’t push, but he could if he wanted to. They both knew it.

“I missed you today,” he said, quieter now.

Her heart squeezed again. “It’s been eight hours.”

“Exactly.”

She shook her head but smiled. “I missed you too.”

He grinned, all cocky and sweet, the perfect mix that made her weak. “See? Would’ve been easier if you just lived with me.”

“Out.”

“No.”

“I mean it. I have shit to do.”

He glanced at the half-unpacked boxes and raised a brow. “What, playing house?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed her wine glass, took a sip like he paid for it (he probably did), and flopped onto her couch, legs sprawled, completely at home. “Fine. I’ll supervise.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You are insufferable.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “You love it.”

And she did. God help her, she really did.

Later, after the boxes had been ignored and the wine bottle emptied between them, they ended up on the couch, limbs tangled, the TV playing something neither of them cared about. His hand rested low on her stomach under her shirt, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns. She let him, eyes half-closed, head on his chest.

“You know you’re going to end up staying at mine half the week anyway,” he muttered.

She hummed. “Probably.”

“So what was the point of all this?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, eyes soft but teasing. “The point is, I get to choose.”

He brushed a kiss to her forehead, a rare tenderness in the gesture. “Fair.”

Silence settled, the comfortable kind. She felt his breathing slow, his hand stilling against her skin.

“You love me,” he murmured sleepily.

She smiled against his chest. “You love me more.”

His low chuckle vibrated through her. “Debatable.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of him, the steady beat of his heart under her ear. Madrid was new, a little daunting. But this—them—this was home.

[minzart]

New dimension who disks? (2)

Ao3 - Prev

Tfp Decepticons & Bcbc-final-form-Reader(GN)

After being transported to this new dimension you met one new bot you don't quite recognize, red and vain, and a far more confident version of your Breakdown

Walking down the giant hallway of this dimension Nemesis was not so different than Shockwaves tower, nor the main building of Cybertrons capital, it was more... empty tho, and you thought Shockwaves tower of solitude was a desert, your steps echoing in the long hall as you jog along Strascream

The silver seeker being comanded to escort you to med bay, much to his annoyance, was nostalgic to you, apparently it might be a Starscream universal trait to disguise his interest with disgust

Your perpetual smile unnerves the comander, how can a human be so relaxed around decepticons is beyond him, his posture is proper, full height, he thought your bravado might have been a consequence of... whatever you had going on with your dimensions Megatron, but apparently not

You look around the hallway, robotic half of your face taking notes and creating a map of the place, you are not as helpless as you once were, but you aren't an overconfident fool either, if they could not keep up with your mood swings and truth, if they turned on you, then you will be damned if you didn't had an escape plan by then

"So..." his screchy voice echoes " "Decepticon doctor" if I may be so bold, how did you acquired such... title?"

"Wasn't my title list self-explanatory enough for you?" You hum, still looking foward

"Indulge me" he grumbles, red optics analyzing your every move

"It is a long story, more than two hours"

"Oh we have plenty of time, I doubt you would be going anywhere so soon" he chuckles maliciously, his master didn't say anything of keeping the little... thing, comfortable, a scare would surely knock you down a few pegs

You look at him now, expressionaless, the same features as you had when jumping Megatron, and that makes the seeker square up, servos flexing, preparing for a fight, he would not face the same humiliation the bumbling bofoon had suffered from this punny little thing

Noting his change of stance, your features soften, and a small smile graces your lips, chuckling softly " you wouldn't believe me..."

You both had stopped in front of a circular metal door, Starscream relaxes a bit "as I said, indulge me"

Slowly, he inputs the code of access, preferring that to buy some time eager to learn a bit of this mystery before anyone else, or your doom

"I guess, somehow, I endeared myself to you"

"You what-?" And he hits the last imput, not noticing your eyes never left the screen he tipes in

"- so you better head back before- Comander Starscream" a soft strong voice salutes you both as the door opens, releasing his servos from the screen he held, ending a call he was obviously making "how may I help?"

"Breakdown" he says, but the seekers' eyes bounce between the assistant and yourself, catching on how your features light with recognition "where is Knockout?"

"He is already coming, comander, had to... attend matters in storage"

"I'm sure he had" Starscream rolls his optics, already preparing for a headache if Soundwave decides to be cruel today and rat him out to Megatron

"Whats with the... human?" the blue mech asks, curiosity in his optics clear as days

"They are a..." his gaze pierces you, cautiously waiting for you to say anything "temporary guest"

"Guest..." Breakdown crosses his arm "didn't knew we had those-"

"It's good to know that a version of you has such confidence" the human talks, making Breakdown jump, yellow optics locking in you, finaly noticing how... metallic this human seems to be

"Do we know each other?" He asks

"And isn't that the question" Starscream chirps in, entering med bay and choosing a corner to watch the exchange, processor running "this little thing claims to come from another dimension, if you would belive it"

"I do" you smile smugly at them

"Alegedly" he retorts

Turning to Breakdown, you answer his question "and yes, we know eachother from where I came from, I saw you be made actualy, helped even"

Starscream wings fluter in curiosity, Breakdown tilts his head, you add another similarity to their mannerisms to your newest list of research

"What?" The huge mech asks

"Cybertron was developing new life?" The seeker adds

"Not by itself, my Breakdown was a race car before being build and molded with living metal"

"And you helped?" Starscream instigate, with the same eager look yours have when the scientist in him kicks in "how?"

"Modifieing, finding new parts, keeping him in top shape before bringing him to Vector Sigma"

"Vector what?"

"The super computer.... isn't that how you bots are formed in this dimension?"

"Hm... have you heard of the well of the allspark?"

"So it is diferent, fascinating..." then an idea forms in your head, this could cost your head but since when did your life has ever been without costs? Before the decepticons does not count "is there... any other way of reproduction?"

"Not besides Primus... and no, nothing of the sort of... ugh, organic reproduction rituals either..."

"I see... how sad, then my son won't be mine in this universe"

Breakdown has dissasociated from the conversation long ago. Seeing as this was just a mockout of an interrogation by the seeker, he started to prepare the cirurgy table in case it would be needed

"Your what now?" Starscream continues

"Motormaster, so much like his father, it might be for the best that this universe humans and cybertronians aren't compatible"

"Wait, stop, in your dimension, cybertronians and humans can... reproduce?" The disgust in his face is priceless, you snort and does your best impression of shyness "and you whilingly partook in it... had an offspring even- how???"

"I know, it was... something else entirely, my partner is more caring than he looks" you exagerated a dreamy look, doing your best to not bark a laugh at Starscreams reactions, his wings flutter and go down, red eyes shining bright and in the center white dots apear by the sher mental damage you might be doing to his processors

"Partner??? Who in their right mind would frag an organic??"

And this was the moment you had been waiting for, you look at him up and down, eyes hooded, then when meeting his you look away sheepsy, and the dawning realization in the silver seekers face dares you to laugh and break this little lie "no... you are not seriously impling-"

"That it's Megatron, exactly" and now he looks like you just simultaneously gave him a negative paternity test and a cold shower. Someone is surprisingly indecisive in how to react to this fantasy you created, nauseous, relieved and offended, his body language changed by seconds in between tics

"MEGATRON?!" The thin seekers screeches and halts

You both jump when hearing Breakdown tumble a plate of cirurgical utensils in the ground as he turns his head abruptly at you, oh so he was paying attention too after all

At the same time, the mechanical door swings open, revealing a red grounder, entering med bay in all the casualness of a confident peacock "alright here I am, what do you need Star-"

He stop, noting both mechs staring at you intensely in diferents level of shock, meeting your eyes you look at him up and down

"Whats up with the fleshie?"

Starscream is the first to recover, if only to clean his troath and save face "ahem. Yes, hm, Knockout, this is our human guest"

He calls you name, a bit of hesitation in his tone, wariness, but also doubt in saying it, as If he can't belive he has to remember you name from now own "this is Knockout, our resident doctor"

"Ah... so you are the reason I'm or will be dead in this dimension, got it" you nod "nice polish"

With one eyebrows up, the doctor smiles "why thank you, at least this one has maners... anyone else might want to fill me in what ever id going on then?"

"Long story short, came from another dimension, give a week or so and I will be out of your sight, so be ready to share this place for a while"

The red mech roll his optics at you and turns to Strascream "jokster aren't they? Right Starscream?"

"..."

Apprehensive Knockput looks at his assistant"Breakdown?"

"..."

"I wish I was joking, pretty boy" you sigh

.......................

Sharing a workplace with the half-organic turned out to not be as insufferable as Knockout thought it would be, if anything it was enlightening

"Jamed cog?" You asks the stuck vehicon in his car alt-mode

"Yes..." he responds, apprehensive of being so casual to a human, but his superior was right there and did treated you with minimal respect

"Got it" with a well placed kick you open him up

The red doctor watches as you practically reagents the insides of the poor vehicon without a care, you had given a read into cybertronian biology of this dimension, cortesy of you nagging the red sportscar for entertainment

It was different from your dimension, but also very similar in a way, you could translate your skills to here, wich meant Knockout now had break time, and you took over when he wanted to jump out of ship and relax

But there are days, like this, where he was needed on board, not because of work, stars no, but because more and more his superiors just, kept appearing at the medical wing unprompted, he couldn't make them have check in for months, but the tinny human barks a comand and Lord Megatron himself is sitting his stuborn aft down and being checked in nook and cranny by the smallest temporary crew member of the Nemesis

So Knockout is trying his best to be seen present most of the time, so that no-one blames him for leaving the squishy too long without supervision

"The mercenary" you say suddenly, still focused in your work "you were a mercenary in my universe"

"Was I now?" He buffs his plating for the tenth time this hour, not really interested in this dimensional travel nonsense you say, be it true or not, as long as it doesn't cause problems for him that was not his circus to oversee

"Yeah, saddly, I don't have photos. You would find yourself ugly anyways... you really stole all fashion sense from everyone around here, didn't you"

That makes the mech stop and amusement in his tone says "what do you mean by that?"

"I mean... look at Starscream, poor thing is so skinny" you find a lose wire and starts getting it out "mine had this tacky red blue and white colorscheeme but he made it work, the figure of a hourglass too, I was trying to convince him to add high heels before being in this mess... hey I can use something from this universe to convince mine, hadn't thought of that"

The red doctor stops his beauty routine, a curious and mischievous smile spreading across his face "do you... have photos?"

Having the exact reaction that you wanted to see, you give the vehicon patient a good ram in the motor, making his t-cog act up again "oh do I~"

.....................

"And this is when he was so drunk he was dancing on the nemesis comunication antenna"

With your phone plugged in the computers of the spaceship you show a high resolution of your Starscream, in jet mode, spinning around a pole, the camera angle clearly from yourself filming, at the distance his voice can be heard "and around the worlddddd-we-hic-we-goooooooooooo-weeeeeeeeee"

He transforms mid air, catching himself in the antenna and swinging from side to side, at that moment the camera goes down and in zooms at a blue blocky mech, your Soundwave, angrily looking up

Knockout was snorting the whole time, you give him context "the blue one is Soundwave"

"He is drunk" your voice comes from the video "be nice"

"Optinion: noted" the deep robotic voice resounds "and discarted. Starscream termination: scheduled"

"He talks?!" The docto tries to say between the wheeze he is having, you look nostalgic at the video

"More than you know, yours don't?"

"WHEEZE- COF- AHEM- I... slag, one sec, oh boy, and I though the comander shaking his aft was the funniest thing he could do.. ah yes, Soundwave, ahem, I heard he does, but took a vow of silence after one of his symbionts passing"

"Passing..." realization hits you, and your heart hurts a little "how... many symbionts does he has now?"

"From what I know Lazerbeak is the sole survivor, heard he had up to five at some point"

"Five..." the images of Rumble, Frenzy and Ravage crosses your mind "no wonder he took a vow of silence after..."

"Yours have them?"

You pass on several more videos and photos, all in questionable quality, until stoping at a specific good one, of Soundwave, sitting at his office, tired and concentrated in his work, Rumble and Frenzy recharge lazily at his lap, Ravage snuggling conformable between his shoulders and Lazerbeak by the side being petted by their boss

"Yeah, they are the most mischiveous little shits I know" you smile foundly at the picture, Soundwave had some days after came to you claiming to need your phone for a new upgrade, months later you find in his personal computer that as his background

"..." Knockout looks from the photo to you, a surprised look at his face, genuine "you really endeared yourself to the most dangerous of decepticons..."

"Yeah, don't ask me how, I don't know either" and there is a small sad smile in you, the curiosity of knowing obviously eating you alive "I... just don't know if it will be enough for them to look for me tho"

Your fist truth makes the doctors spikes move in surprise "so you are stuck here?"

"For now, if this universe Shockwave doesn't kill me first, maybe I can go back"

"..." piercing you with his red optics Knockout adds "why are you telling me this?"

You smile, the suspicion in his maners a small win for yourself, he sees you as more than an idiot human "from a doctor to another? Is to show you how essential your place is in this ship, make yourself irreplaceable and you wil be set for life..."

"... is that a treat" you hear the saw long before he turns his arm into one

"It's an offering" you turn to him without fear, locking your eyes with his "for Breakdown, I'll play as your assistant and not better replacement"

"What makes you so sure you are better than me" the saw comes closer, shining and spinning

"Megatron has not yet killed me... and he listens"

"..." he can't argue with that, you are new, and his three superiors have been weirdly pacific and entranced by this dimension you came from, until you mess up, he is bellow you in the food chain of this cursed ship "what was that about Breakdown?"

You chuckles as he retreats his saw, turning back to the screen, looking for more photos, this time of the Stunticons "as... ilogical as it may sound, I do have a soft spot for the ones I recognize and hold dear in my dimension, Breakdown is one of them"

You find one of Breakdown, your Breakdown, orange, white and blue, shyly giving the camera a wave in the background, Motormaster refusing to look at the lense but still gives a small wave of his own in his crossed arms, Dragstrip and Deadend running at the makeshift finish line in the background "I saw all of them being made and molded, from protoform to first transformation, they may not be my creations, but I still have a soft spot for them"

"And that translates to this dimension Breakdown... wich one is him in there?" He taps the screen

"The shy one" you point at him in the picture "always anxious that his disguise isn't good enough, stumbling in his words, still deadly, like any pround decepticon"

The found smile in the red doctors face confirms a small theory you had been building these past days "reminds me of him... before the war that is"

"So you two were friends before?"

He cofs "you could say that, acquaintances more like it"

"Hm... sure" you nod along, letting this go for now

"... just to be sure, because this has been killing me inside since Breakdown told me, that... "son" talk, it was just to mess with Starscream right?"

You laugh at his barely disguised disgust of the idea "alright, I relent, it was a lie, but Motormaster was my truck first before becoming a Cybertronian, and he does have some vague memories from before, it is a bit complicated between us, but no, humans and cybertronians can't directly reproduce in my dimension"

He sighs in relief "thank Primus that was too much to bear... why Megatron as the "father" tho? "

"He was the one who commissioned the Stunticons, and he was the funniest answer besides Starscream"

"Fair"

And then as casual as possible, you add "but recreative interfacing is possible if you are interested"

"Eh makes sense-wait what?"

You smile smugly at him

"WHO?!" He sounds as eager for the gossip as mortified by the notion

"Guess"

[nan0-sp1der]

␂ > 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 // @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @spiderman2-99

There’s a thought stirring in Bridge’s mind. An idea rolling about and nudging against the capacitors in her head, poking and prodding incessantly to get her attention, “Hey, hey, you know you want to ask her. Don’t you? Don’t lie to yourself, now. You should just do it. Hey! Are you listening to me? Hello-o…?”

Yes. Yes, she knows, she is aware of her burning curiosity. And it’s hard to deny that even though it doesn’t involve her, she is unusually intrigued by the concept. She overheard them in his office, Miguel and LYLA–his A.I. assistant–discussing a plan.  A plan to create a physical form for LYLA to enhance her abilities as his assistant and grant her further autonomy beyond her access to the security network and other adjacent systems alongside her recent emergence into emotional intelligence. It was all so fascinating. The steps Bridge had taken herself in her development in the span of weeks, she was watching unfold in another intelligence in real-time.

There it was again. That sense of solidarity in knowing she wasn’t completely alone in her existence as an artificial being, made of code and metal. It was like a magnetic pull that made that little voice in her head that encouraged her to act on her wants all the more present in her mind. She wanted to be a part of that process that she’d been through so long ago yet was still so familiar with like it happened yesterday. She wanted to guide her in that process and grant her her own knowledge. What’s the worst that can happen if she pilots your hardware for a while? You’re prepared for this. You can handle this. You can trust her, and she will be entirely safe in your care for that short time. And think about how much she would benefit from the experience, how much more streamlined that eventual transition from intangible to tangible will be once her own body was complete. It will make all the difference–and maybe reduce the headaches for everyone all-around, mostly Miguel as he acclimates to the change himself. Just… Try it. You can’t account for every single last risk factor, can you? No. So just do it and take it as it comes.

She stood in the middle of her dorm a moment, eyes closed as she ran a quick check of her hardware before making her final decision. RAM is in good condition. Storage is defragmented and all directories are organized. Sensors are calibrated and functional. Nanomachines are synchronized properly. Servos and joints retain a full range of motion. Coolant is at above optimal operational temperatures. Energy reserves are complete. Good. Everything’s in its right place and ready for its–potentially–temporary host. It’s time to make the call.

Her gaze trains itself on her watch, her arm rising to eye-level and the sleeve that was weighed down by the leaden metal cuff at the end sliding to her forearm to reveal device so she can start the transmission, navigating the menus on the digital interface indirectly via wireless communication–the unique way that she operated and communicated the Society’s technology.

“LYLA, may I speak to you for a moment? At your leisure, of course.”

[waywardprintmaker]

The Blind Wizard

Isn't bothered by the dark

Has a special bond with his Wand

Is full of secrets

Spawns into the world with his Wand. Can "see" in the dark as long as the Wand is equipped. Knows hidden shortcuts and secret passages that allow for faster travel between specific points on the map. Craftable secter cabinet that allows access to these shortcuts. The Wand acts as a compass, pointing towards important resources, quest items, or significant locations. The Wand gains additional powers as the wizard progresses, unlocking new abilities such as brief bursts of speed, temporary shields, or the ability to uncover hidden areas.

Sanity drain when attacked. Slower at crafting and cooking.

The Duelist

Makes unusual friendships

Never backs down from a fight Craftable Relic. When placed, automatically raises nearby slain enemies as undead minions that fight for him. Minions have moderate health and deal moderate damage. Multiple minions can be summoned, but each drains sanity over time.

Has lower overall Sanity. I am not a game designer, but I have been playing a lot of Don't Starve Together with friends. We thought Sebastian and Ominis would be neat as custom characters. Alas, I cannot code, so the art id the best I can do :D

[boss-the-goofball]

I'm going to repost the thread I made on BlueSky here under a read more, and people can send me asks about it (I will temporarily turn Anon back on, but if I get that same spammer again then I will turn Anon off again)

TFA Arranged Marriage AU - Sold for Temporary Peace

--

For a background, the Decepticons were able to gets their hands on the access codes for the Omega Sentinels during the war. Not from Ratchet or Arcee, but a different bot. They reversed engineered the codes and made their own Sentinels. So the war is now at a stalemate instead of an end.

For millions of years the battles continued and more Autobots got pulled into Boot Camp and the Elite Guard - Draft Dodgers were being rounded up and made to serve in some fashion. Prowl may have avoided being pulled into the war temporarily, but soon he would be pulled from Yoketron's school, but Prowl's story is for another day.

Instead we focus our attention on the Academy where a trio of bots snuck away to an Organic Planet, but only two returned. Sentinel thought they could get some valuable intel or even weaknesses on the Decepticons from that ship. Elita-1 also thought the same thing, while Optimus thought this was a bad idea. So when Optimus and Sentinel were the only ones to return, Optimus took the blame on his shoulders. But things go in a different direction as the war, which has been at a stalemate, suddenly takes a turn.

Suddenly the Decepticons have started to push forward and taken more territory from the Autobots, and Ultra Magnus realizes that at any moment Megatron could march onto Cybertron and take it for himself. What they need is a way to delay Megatron. They need to buy themselves time.

And then Ultra Magnus gets an idea. Instead of having Optimus expelled from the Academy, at least on record, he instead has Optimus given the rank of Prime and forged some paperwork to make it seem like he has led countless victorious battles against the Decepticons. Just enough to hopefully catch Megatron's attention, all so Ultra Magnus can make a proposal that will hopefully buy them some time. As he knows Megatron can and will take whatever he believes to be a valuable asset, or destroy it to stop it from being used by Autobots.

Once that is done and the details are leaked to the Decepticons, Ultra Magnus gives Megatron an offer. Temporarily cease his conquest in exchange for this extremely valuable Prime to take to use for whatever he desires. Even have him as a consort if he so desires.

Of course Megatron is suspicious at first, until he sees the real academic records from this Prime that's being offered to him. Even if the dates were fudged to make it seem like Optimus graduated a long time ago, he still recognizes talent where he sees it and agrees to the temporary ceasefire.

Ultra tells Optimus that he is to do everything he can to get close enough to Megatron to then put an end to him. Without Megatron at the head, the Decepticons should scatter and be easier to take down. He also says this is the only way Optimus can make up for what he did on Archa-7, and it is also the only way for Optimus to truly earn the title of "Prime" - and yet, Megatron is laughing internally during the negotiations because he sees it as Ultra Magnus throwing away a potentially valuable asset. So he might as well do what he can to convince Optimus of the truth.

That to Ultra Magnus and the Autobots, he is disposable. Someone who is sent to fulfill only one purpose and then be discarded the moment he is no longer useful. He hopes that with the help of this new asset, he can properly take Cybertron for himself and his Decepticons.

From there it is only a matter of time until the Decepticons return to their offensive and finally take Cybertron, and that is with the help of their lord's consort.

[partisan-by-default]

(Dominic Byrd-McDevitt on LinkedIn)

On Friday night, the president officially fired the Archivist of the United States, as he had promised to do before taking office. So, hi there! 👋 Former National Archives employee here. The quality of the reporting on this has been disappointing to say the least, with only the most basic understanding of what the National Archives does. This is bigger than a little spat with a small agency.

Yes, the National Archives holds billions of pages of government records—essential for research, journalism, and government transparency—making it a crucial part of how citizens hold their government accountable, and also a key steward of our nation’s historical narratives. But, even beyond that, the functions of the National Archives and the Archivist of the United States are far more significant than most citizens realize. If you are wondering about what this could mean for our democracy, here is a short list of other things you should know about NARA and the AOTUS:

The Archivist of the United States is responsible for administering the Electoral College process. They are provide the official instruction to the states on how to carry out their Electoral College voting and transmit their electors’ votes, and also for receiving and validating the certificates before public viewing and permanent preservation.[1]

The National Archives is responsible for the publication of the Code of Federal Regulations, which is the official document that codifies all regulations of federal agencies, as well as the Federal Register, which is where the government gives notice of presidential actions, public meetings, and any proposed changes federal regulations before their required public comment period.

The National Archives is responsible for administering the Constitutional amendment process. The Archivist would receive any proposed amendment from Congress and transmit it to the states with instructions. They then receive and authenticate any ratification documents from the states. When sufficient states ratify, the Archivist is the one that formally certifies that the Constitution has been amended, with an official proclamation.[2]

As the National Archives states in all of its rulemaking postings, “Agencies may not destroy Federal records without the approval of the Archivist of the United States.” The National archives maintains records schedules, mandatory rules for agencies about how to retain records, and can determine which records are temporary (not permanently preserved). When these are violated, NARA can investigate and conduct oversight.[3]

The National Archives houses the National Personnel Records Center for the federal government. This is where all the personnel files of all federal employees are transferred after they separate from the government. Agencies have been charged with making lists of employees engaged in certain jobs for the White House, but it is worth noting any federal worker who ever left the government before now also has a file at the NPRC.

The National Archives has important roles in the classification process, including housing the Information Security Oversight Office and the National Declassification Center. In addition, the National Archives receives classified documents from the government for retention, as was widely reported during the president’s related criminal indictment. ISOO is the office that, by law, must be notified by anyone who encounters mishandled classified documents.[4]

The Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) ensures that citizens have the ability to hold the government accountable by establishing a right to access public records. It is a crucial tool for journalists. National Archives’ Office of Government Information Services is the ombudsman for federal FOIA program, receiving public complaints about violations of the law and producing compliance reports on agencies.[5]

Do you know of anyone who wants to interfere with the Electoral College vote, wipe out government regulations, change the Constitution, destroy or illegally retain government records, etc.?

So far, with everything else going on, this has hardly registered in the top news stories. It is important to know that none of this is normal. No Archivist of the United States has ever been fired by a president, in almost 100 years since the position was created, making Shogan—the first woman in the office—the shortest serving AOTUS. This is an apolitical position, even when the officeholder was appointed by the previous president. The statute regarding the office of the Archivist of the United States (44 USC § 2103) reads: "The Archivist shall be appointed without regard to political affiliations and solely on the basis of the professional qualifications required to perform the duties and responsibilities of the office of Archivist."[6]

Regardless of your politics, failing to defend the independence National Archives and its staff right now—and allowing it to be gutted or turn political—could be disastrous for the future of democracy.

Notes

[1] Here is the letter sent by Shogan after before 2024 election to state officials: https://www.archives.gov/files/electoral-college/state-officials/example-archivist-letter.pdf

[2] Here is the Archivist’s proclamation of the 27th Amendment: https://catalog.archives.gov/id/1512313

[3] For example, here is the letter sent when, in the Obama administration, the IRS was scrutinized for targeting conservatives and emails were deleted. https://oversight.house.gov/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/6-17-2014-NARA-to-Bennett.pdf The Archivist provided testimony to Congress in the matter. https://www.politico.com/story/2014/06/irs-lost-emails-archivist-108242

[4] In response to high-profile cases of government officials retaining classified documents, ISOO published a notice in 2023 with guidance on identifying and handling classified materials. https://www.archives.gov/files/isoo/notices/cogc-isoo-notice-final-06-21-2023.pdf

[5] See https://www.archives.gov/ogis/mediation-program/request-assistance & https://www.archives.gov/ogis/foia-compliance-program

[6] It also states regarding removal from office: "The President shall communicate the reasons for any such removal to each House of the Congress." Which does not appear to have happened yet, or has not yet been reported in any news reports. 44 USC 2103

[sabotourist]

So I was overthinking the mechanics of how AI think themselves to death after 7 or so years in the context of Church and how he couldn't run the suit because of his memories and like.

I kind of hate how much sense that makes.

For those not in the know, computers have what is called RAM, random access memory. It's what programs use to store temporary data so that it can be called quickly enough to run a program. If you run a python script, those variables in the script are stored in memory. Not necessarily in a file unless you write the data there. They're just stored locally within the program and then the memory is deallocated when the program is done so that the computer can use that space for other things.

But as a computer runs, stuff starts to clog the memory. Memory leaks, background programs, whatever. Junk code can clog the memory that isn't helping anything and just slows down the computer. The easy solution to this is to restart the computer, which flushes the memory. It's why the number one tech support tip is to turn a computer off and on again, and part of why that usually works. It's getting rid of all the buggy jank code clogging up memory.

Okay great.

So what if the computer is a person and that junk code is actual memories.

What if that buggy, slow computer is a person that feels emotions and values his memories? And now that computer needs to run something that he. Does not have the space in his memory to run.

What if those memories are what are holding him together as a person, a person of his own, and without that he is seven individual subroutines?

And then he has to throw all those memories away because the number one way to fix a buggy computer is to reboot it.

Anyway I'm feral about that little blue bitch.