#voltage fluctuations

[drivewaycore]

[servotechsblog]

Say Goodbye to Power Fluctuations with Servotech Servo Stabilizers

Ensure Uninterrupted Power Supply with Servotech’s Range of Servo Stabilizers! From air-cooled to oil-cooled models, enjoy 24x7 protection against voltage fluctuations.

[prostarchina]

Protect Your Infrastructure: Online UPS Benefits

In today’s digital age, businesses heavily rely on uninterrupted power supply to ensure seamless operations, protect sensitive equipment, and maintain data integrity. This is where Online Uninterruptible Power Supply (UPS) systems come into play, offering a multitude of advantages over traditional standby or offline UPS systems. Online UPS benefits provide continuous, high-quality power by…

[aultenblogs]

Power Surge Sanctuary: Innovative Fixes for Home Voltage Volatility

In today’s fast-paced world, where every household depends on sensitive electronic devices, consistent power supply is not just a luxury—it’s a necessity. From refrigerators to air conditioners and smart appliances, your home deserves uninterrupted voltage stability. That’s where Aulten steps in as your trusted power partner, offering a sanctuary against unpredictable voltage fluctuations.

Voltage instability can quietly damage expensive appliances, reduce their lifespan, or even cause sudden breakdowns. Whether you live in a high-rise apartment or a large villa, managing these power surges with the right technology is essential. Aulten brings a reliable solution with its advanced range of 15kVA copper stabilizers, specially designed for homes with high power requirements.

What makes Aulten stabilizers unique is their pure copper winding, which offers better conductivity and durability compared to aluminum alternatives. The result? Faster voltage correction, higher efficiency, and minimal energy loss. This means your appliances run smoother and last longer—even in areas with frequent power fluctuations.

The 15kVA Aulten stabilizer is perfect for homes with heavy load appliances like centralized air conditioning systems, water pumps, or multiple high-power gadgets running simultaneously. Its high load capacity ensures that all your devices receive consistent voltage, protecting them from any damage caused by over or under voltage.

Aulten’s technology is backed by years of engineering expertise and innovation in the power protection industry. Our stabilizers come with smart digital displays, automatic cutoff features, and thermal overload protection—offering complete peace of mind and safety for your home.

Whether you are building a new house or upgrading your current power backup system, Aulten provides tailored solutions that blend performance with trust. Say goodbye to voltage worries and embrace uninterrupted power with Aulten copper stabilizers—engineered for Indian homes, made for lasting protection.

[amitsm356]

63A Equipower 3 phase installed for 440V protection of house in #Bengaluru by our dealer

Electrical surges and overvoltage conditions pose a serious risk to household appliances and electrical systems. In Bengaluru, our trusted dealer, Umesh Electrical Services, (contact them : +91 70192 26106) recently installed a 63A Equipower 3-phase unit to safeguard a residence from potential damage due to 440V overvoltage incidents. Why Equipower? The Equipower protection device is designed…

[shktelcp]

Pros and Cons of Servo Voltage Stabilizers

Discover the Advantages and Disadvantages of servo voltage stabilizers. Learn how they enhance voltage regulation and protect your appliances while considering costs and maintenance. Make an informed choice for your electrical needs!

[hsmagazine254]

Voltage Stability at Home Illuminating the Path to Electronic Protection

Mastering Voltage Stability: A Guide to Guard Your Electronics In the ever-connected world we live in, our homes are filled with an array of electronic devices that bring convenience and entertainment. Yet, these devices are vulnerable to the fluctuations in voltage that can occur due to unstable electricity flow. Protecting your lights and electronic treasures is paramount, and understanding how…

[sinisterexaggerator]

Summary: Nick Valentine hardly ever leaves your thoughts, but you're barely on his radar. Your infatuation takes a rather interesting turn; you're caught red-handed in his bed, wearing candy apple lipstick and a freshly laundered dress. What is to become of you? Will you be able to confess your feelings, or will you run away instead?

Warning: NSFW / 18+ for masturbation/being caught in the act, kissing, cunnilingus, fingering, mild wire play, angst, drama, "love" confessions, and sass.

Word count: 5.9K

Notes: I may make a part two for this after "you" get to know each other a little better. I don't see Nick letting just anybody play with his innards all willy-nilly, but I had a lot of fun writing it!

Read on Ao3

It wasn’t an eyesore, and neither was the Synth who owned it, luminescent neon laid out in letters, an arrhythmic fluctuation in voltage causing a delay in current every three point five seconds—you had counted.

How could a man with the last name Valentine—whose brand was marked with a heart pierced by Cupid’s arrow—not see the underlying machinations from which your attention spurred?

He was a detective, no less, unable to work out your motivations, not understanding that every nuance—every quirk of your lips, every gleam in your eye, every smile—was for him, because of him, and that you had long ago fallen for his wit, his charm, his mind, and for his heart.

A man who wasn’t a man—thrown together in some lab—though that needn’t be your concern. It mattered little if he was flesh and bone or biomechanical, though his kind was greatly feared and for good reason.

Nick was different, he was a diamond in the rough of Diamond City, shining more brightly than even the Valentine Detective Agency’s ostentatious signage. A do-gooder who never tired, a being whose higher purpose rested not with himself, but with others, giving more to the people of the Commonwealth than they rightfully deserved.

For all the hate, intolerance, and ignorance Nick dealt with on the daily, he dished out love, empathy and acceptance in equal measure, though he was not one to take an insult lying down.

He was also passionate; fiery beneath a calm and collected disposition, his habitually stoic makeup a steadying force and welcomed counterbalance to the restless biome that flourished within these walls.

It was when he spoke to you the first time that you became enamored with his personality, whether artificial, finding him to be bold and charismatic. He had asked what brought you to the neighborhood—you were a trader who lost your caravan, your guards, nothing left but the caps in your pocket. 

Luckily for you, a man named Arturo Rodriguez had been contemplating the idea of extending his hours for quite some time, his competition employing a salvaged Mister Handy named Percy to sell goods even in the dead of night—it was a case of being in the right place at the right time, one you were thankful for.

It became engrained into his subroutine, these evening visitations, Nick sharing bits and pieces of his history with you for a lack of customers, though oftentimes short and sweet as he kept himself busy. There was always a new crime to be investigated, or a new case to be solved.

Truth be told, the detective was worried about you—a solitary woman—being out there by your lonesome at such late hours. All kinds of riffraff ushered themselves in off the streets, not caring what time of the day it was.

Diamond City was a safe haven as much as it was a magnet for undesirables, those men and women of ill repute that made life difficult for hardworking people just trying to get by. Security could only do so much; it was common for slime to slip through the cracks, portions of the city less fortified than others.

Still, Nick felt Arturo ought to be ashamed, getting a broad to do his dirty work. Little did he know this job had been a godsend, or that you were tougher than a two-dollar steak and twice as hard to chew.

Call him a gentleman, but Valentine, on more than one occasion, had gone out of his way unbeknownst to you, changing his route home simply to check in on your stall. 

“Workin’ hard, or hardly workin’?” Nick had inquired, the corner of his mouth creeping upward to indicate his offhanded chiasmus was merely a good-natured tease. 

“You know me,” you had answered back, “total slacker.”

“Stickin’ it to the man, glad to hear it,” he would drawl, voice dry and deadpan yet soothing to the ears. Even though Nick was cordial with Arturo, he didn’t mind having a joke at his expense.

“Doing my part,” you replied, wishing he’d step closer, wishing he would stay and chat a while.

“Stay out of trouble, doll,” he’d warn, tipping the brim of his hat; you were in awe at how a single monosyllabic word could drive you toward such filthy imaginings as you were then, reveling in that passing instant he had paid you mind.  

Mission accomplished, Nick would wander off to park himself at the Agency, unaware that for the rest of the night your mind was wholly occupied by impure thoughts—and it was all his fault. It was ridiculous that a simple term of endearment expressed so casually could nearly short-circuit your human brain, yet here you were.

Could he make love to you if you asked? Would he touch you if you begged him to? 

You supposed his existence was an adventurous one, wishing you could participate in something other than this humdrum life, though you assumed you ought to be grateful you were alive at all.

But it unnerved you—angered you to no end— to hear the drivel that oozed like poison from out the mouths of bigots when they spoke of Nick Valentine in his absence. They declared he was not sentient, that an intelligence such as his was naïve to think of itself as self-aware, as if they were any more autonomous than he, choosing to act of their own free-will by way of insults and disgraceful slurs.

Arturo had been accommodating, allowing you the top floor of his home until you could get on your feet. Such things were heard from rooftops, echoing beyond thin strips of sheet metal to leech its way into your ears. You roosted, enjoying the wide-open view of the sky and the clouds drifting by, only for your mood to sour, tempted to shout obscenities at the offender—usually Myrna— from your place in the dark.

You valued Nick’s company despite the rumors or the gossip about the Institute, ignoring the fact he was a Synth. You wondered if something was wrong with you, finding your short exchanges to be a thousand times more stimulating than any discourse with your neighbors—Valentine’s smile alone was worth more than all the caps in the world.

You often daydreamed about his cybernetic eyes looking down at you from your place atop his mattress, bright as sunbeams, imbued with radiant golden light. They were the windows to his soul—and you were convinced he had one— no one could tell you otherwise.

Then, more questions came. Could man love machine? Could machine love man? Ethical quandaries that knew no bounds. Those of narrow minds might call it an abomination in the eyes of God, while for others it might cause confusion, or effectuate ridicule.

Somehow, none of that would matter, not if Nick returned what was undeniably blossoming into not just admiration, but desire. Could Synths feel desire? Could androids dream?

And the man did flirt, if only feigning attraction, but not with you—you did not assume you were boring or undesirable, but you carried yourself the opposite of Piper, or even his assistant, Ellie. These women were always present in his life, women you tried not to be jealous of, though the ease with which they spoke, the familiarity of their years together ate away at you, knowing you might never reach the level of intimacy you so craved.

Besides, nothing good came of getting close to someone in this day and age, yet you wanted to be—scared of heartbreak, of them being stolen from you too soon, or of being sorely disappointed should they show themselves to be something other than what you thought them to be. There were risks at every turn; you had to decide—would you ever be brave enough to tell him how you felt?

Then, one day, you heard about the love between Ms. Edna and Mr. Zwicky, a robot and a human getting married of all things—it’s what prompted you to stand outside Nick’s door right this very moment, staring long enough at the glowing, heart-shaped outline for it to be burned into your retinas.

The sun was sinking just beyond the wall, Diamond City winding down as its citizens took shelter in their homes or closed up shop—it was thankfully one of your nights off.

You couldn’t get it out of your head, the very idea of a single touch, a single kiss—an affectionate word shared, a smile meant just for you. To make him smile would be the most gratifying thing of all. Too often Valentine looked glum, his thoughts weighing on him, dragging him down along with all the horrors that came with living in a post-apocalyptic society.

To kiss it away, to ensconce him in your embrace—to make him forget he wasn’t human, if only for a few minutes—your heart raced at all the possibilities, all he had to do was let you in.

You assumed a knock was in order, deep, slow breaths doing little to calm your nerves. You had adorned a dress for the occasion, something someone had traded for extra ammo. It was soft blue in color, and in relatively good condition. Ultimately, it was clean, and that was all that mattered to you. Arturo had no use for it, so it had wound up in your possession. Now you would wear it to confess, though you were nervous, a wellspring of anxiety having burgeoned behind your ribs.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” you had asked yourself, fingers curling as you raised your arm. After a few more seconds delay, you made a move to rap against the door, painted red to match the sign out front. There was just one problem—it opened before you could, Ellie’s eyes widening as she jerked a step backward, the woman obviously on her way out.

She said your name, denoting her surprise. You would quickly apologize, already on edge.

“Sorry, Ellie, I—” You paused, averting your eyes to stare at the ground that had suddenly become so interesting. “I was hoping to see Nick,” you bashfully admitted.

The woman quirked a brow, amused for some unknown reason, as if she was in on your little secret just by the way you carried yourself. You attempted to straighten up, offering her a smile to throw her off your scent; you weren’t sure that it was working, though she was kind enough not to comment.

“He stepped out a few hours ago,” she informed you, “but he should be back any minute. You can wait here if you like, but I promised Cathy I’d go have a drink with her.” Ellie gave a halfhearted laugh, “apparently she needs a night out away from her husband.”

“Al-all right,” you managed, supposing Nick was hardly ever “home,” what with being hired for everything under the sun from finding missing cats to tracking down murderers—you only hoped for his safe and swift return.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” she offered, holding it open; you timidly stepped forward, Ellie giving you a small wave on her way out.

It was not until that moment you realized you had never stepped foot inside Valentine’s Detective Agency, something you felt ashamed of—maybe he assumed you had no interest in his work. The thought caused a frown to form, but you didn’t want to lose track of why you were here, though finding no harm in taking a look around.

You were respectful, not having it in you to snoop or pry, no matter how many folders lay open or scattered about his desk. There were copies of old newspapers, the latest from Publick Occurrences, rusty filing cabinets, overloaded cardboard boxes, and clipboards with scribbled notes attached.

You spied holotapes of unknown origin, scraps of memorabilia from times long since passed. Items you could only guess at—clues, maybe? Not to mention an assortment of tools, perhaps left over from Nick’s days as a handyman—he’d told you stories, though the idea made you uncomfortable, somehow—the Synth reduced to making household repairs when he was a being of such remarkable intelligence.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, having found yourself sitting at the man’s cluttered workspace. You stared at the painting before you, a tranquil forest scene that had been tarnished by years of grime and dust. A half-smoked cigarette in a nearby ashtray caught your eye; you surprised yourself by picking it up, placing the filter between lips painted a pretty candy apple red, having decorated yourself with a little lipstick for the occasion—you could hardly think of a better time to wear it.

The stale scent of nicotine invaded your nostrils, its taste pungent on your tongue. You struck a match against its book, wanting to experience something that had graced Nick’s synthetic lips, if you couldn’t do so firsthand.

Smoke drifted toward the ceiling, diffusing in loose curls above your head as you exhaled, feeling yourself becoming aroused by your salacious daydreams. You leaned back in Nick’s chair with a faint smile, closing your eyes to more clearly picture his face.

Your free hand groped your own breast, teeth biting down on tender flesh, imagining what it might be like for Valentine’s mechanical fingers to touch you; would it feel cold like metal, or warm like machinery? Sharp like the point of a knife, or smooth like purified silver?

You sighed with longing, chest rising and falling as you stared at the ceiling. You took another drag, finding the burn to be unpleasant as the cigarette reached its end. You bent forward and extinguished it in that same ashtray—Nick would never know the difference—forgetting your lipstick would leave a stain behind.

You normally weren’t one to smoke, feeling slightly buzzed upon standing, riding the tiny high the nicotine gave you as you spied a small space off to your right; you had yet to explore it. There was nothing to keep you out, no locks, no warning signs; you tiptoed forward, as if committing a crime that warranted the use of stealth, peeking around the corner to find a staircase, and a bed.

You glanced upward through the cracks in the floorboards; another mattress was positioned above you, but the personal effects scattered about on the bottom floor let you know this was Nick’s corner, the file folders and spare fedora on his nightstand giving it away.

You snatched the hat, twirling it over in your hands. It was one you hadn’t seen him wear too often, but that was in better condition than the one he sported on the regular, having the bold idea to place it directly on your head.

Of course, there was no mirror to admire yourself in.

You would just have to use your imagination, skimming the rim with two fingers, just like Valentine. You tipped the brim to no one, spinning once to let the full skirt of your pre-war dress swirl around your calves. Feeling pretty, you plopped down gracefully on Nick’s bare bed, wondering if Arturo might have a spare set of sheets you could gift him—did Synths sleep, you wondered? Did Nick lie here awake at night, staring at this same ceiling as you were now?

You sighed, tipping the hat lower, catching onto the unusual scent embedded within its fibers. You pressed your nose against faded leather, inhaling deeply of this strange fragrance, idly twisting bits of clean cotton, not used to wearing something so delicate and fancy; it felt odd, but the texture, the softness of the dress suited you.

This hat smelled like tobacco; ozone; coolant. Like a musty bar mixed with cigarettes. Like metal; like something organic; like wet earth after a radstorm—all things that in combination were uniquely Nick. It pulled a sigh from your lungs, loins aching for the Synth worse than ever, wishing that Valentine might show himself before you chickened out.

You thought to leave the bed; unpredicted were the moves you made to hike your dress up, legs spreading open as you gathered the excess bits of skirt into a fist. You held it to the height of your navel, exposing yourself before you had any real grasp on what you were doing, sliding the palm of your hand past your waist and hips, introducing two fingers to the elastic hem of your panties.

You grinned a little grin, feeling unlike yourself; naughty, for lack of a better word, inching your way beneath its thin layer to brush against your clit. You cooed a little sound, hips gyrating gently as you got comfortable, one of your two fingers gliding down, taking up a measure of your slick.

You massaged that part of you just begging for it, pinpricks of pleasure causing your nerves to tingle as the sensation traveled, extracting a subdued moan from bowed lips. You had the nerve to giggle, entertained in more ways than one, letting Nick’s hat fall flat against your face as you breathed in deeply, working that excitable nub in slow circles, taking your time.

You were just getting started, body reacting in tandem with your touch, exhilarated beyond comprehension at this singular act of bawdy desperation. You were where you always envisioned yourself to be, though now you conjured up something else—what some might call an abject fantasy, one where you explored the body of a robotic man to your heart’s content.

Smooth, hard flesh, or pliable and soft, warm against you, or cold like ice. Exposed wires and eyes stolen from the crown’s of angels, twin halos you would kill a man to see up close. Lips too kissable for one who wasn’t human, tongue and teeth all there, or between your legs. Metallic fingers, dexterous and nimble, the other good for groping all your biologic parts.

You were so close already, wondering if you might in some way be able to please him back. Would he have a cock you could stroke or suck? Could you dig around inside him? Could you find a button, or perhaps a jumble of loose wires to fondle, one that would make his machine-parts whir?

You covered your face more thoroughly with one arm, the fedora hiding you from your own shame. You pushed your hips into the bed as you felt the onset of an orgasm building in the seat of your belly, almost there, almost—

“Say, am I interrupting something?”

You practically screamed, throwing the fedora off with such speed it hit the bed and bounced. You shoved your dress down, embarrassed beyond belief, mortified as much as you were frightened, your heart racing as you pushed up off the Nick’s mattress and ran for the stairs. He had been so quiet—maybe there was a way out of here, up there. You would never live this down.

“Hey, now,” Nick chided, his voice taking on an austere quality that caused a bout of horripilation, the micro hairs on your arms standing at attention; the Synth had locked the fingers of his good hand around your wrist, pulling you back down to his level before pressing your body against the wall of his abode. He tilted his head, studying you with rapt attention and an almost morbid curiosity—he doubted you were some kind of adrenaline junkie, or even an exhibitionist for that matter.

“You think you can just waltz in here and use my bed to pleasure yourself without some kind of explanation? I’ve seen some things in my day, but this takes the cake.”

You could not face him, averting your eyes. His accusatory gaze was powerful, the catalyst for your tears, tiny droplets threatening to roll down your cheeks as you stammered a reply. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t—”

“—You didn’t mean to masturbate?” Nick questioned, a sardonic tone lacing his old-world, Midwestern accent. “I find that hard to believe.”

There was a pause, Nick’s metallic fingers grasping you by the point of your chin. He gently guided you to face him, tears and all, his voice softening as he realized how sorry you seemed to be, though he was still skeptical.

He called you by your name, addressing you calmly, “at least be honest with me—this how you get your rocks off, or is this some kind of special occasion? If Ellie was here—”

“—she was the only who let me in,” you whispered, Nick so tantalizingly close, yet you were beside yourself in self-abasing horror at your own actions—how could you have been so stupid!? Of course he would find out, sooner or later—he was a private eye, a damn good one! Not to mention this was his place of business, his assistant trusting you well enough to behave yourself. You suddenly felt worse than before; you were sure he had seen everything.

“Huh,” Nick snorted, the gears of his artificial brain beginning to turn toward another direction. “Why the hell would she go and do a thing like that?"

You took a breath and gulped, finally having the courage to look, to get lost in the depths of  those parhelic circles he called eyes, wishing to speak, to find the right words, yet it was nearly impossible with the way he had so easily ensnared you.

“Cat got your tongue? Beginning to wonder just how many lights are on upstair—"

You steeled yourself; you kissed him rather than giving an explanation, wondering if this was another thing you would come to regret, though sparks danced behind your eyelids—worried for one moment they might be real, some side effect of physical contact—Nick forcing you off to where your back was returned to its spot against his bedroom wall.

They had been warm; his lips were warm.

“Oh, I get it now. You came here thinking you’d shoot your shot, but when I wasn’t home you got carried away in some sick fantasy, is that it? Decided to rub one out,” he derided, laying your sins out before you so coldly that your lip trembled; you struggled to break free.

“Valentine, please—"

“Could have just waited for me,” he offered; you froze with bated breath, his words having taken an unexpected turn—could he be serious, or was he simply toying with you as punishment?

“Gal like you isn’t exactly hard on the eyes…”  

“You’re not upset?” you asked breathily, chest heaving, wide, round eyes searching his for confirmation.

“Upset you thought you could get away with this,” he muttered, brushing his mouth against yours, Nick’s skeletal hand holding your chin steady. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that he would indulge you, feeling yourself melt against the solid brick of his Diamond City home. “Not exactly a secret you fancy me; can read it all over your face, just never thought you’d have the guts to do a thing like this.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you pleaded, your own hand lifting, exploring the texture of his tattered coat, rising higher to caress the portion of his flesh still intact just below the fissure that extended beyond the brim of his hat. “Then why didn’t you say something? I only meant to tell you how you make me feel,” you whispered, eagerly returning that kiss, introducing your wet human tongue to his.

“How’s that?” he asked, ignoring the first part of your question—he wasn’t about to tell you you’d have to make the first move, he didn’t have to—his inviolate hand sliding down the dip in your waist to rest against your hip. He gave it a squeeze, aware of his own strength, applying just enough pressure to excite you, no more, no less.

“Ravenous,” you exclaimed, hiking your leg, encircling him to draw in close like you were playing the part of some wily seductress in a pre-war film. You emitted a dulcet moan, digits inching across the back of his head, taking the time to kiss Valentine more deeply in your lust.

Nick was quick, supporting your ass in his firm grip, securing your leg as he pressed his inorganic frame against yours that was supple and pliant; he met your hunger head on. “Good thing I know a trick or two.”

You shivered with anticipation, despite the Synth being almost hot to the touch. Silicone fingers disappeared up your long, flowing skirt, but only after he was sure you were both comfortably entangled.

Valentine kissed a question up the side of your neck toward lipstick-laden lips. “You wear this for me?” he asked, motioning his head toward your bartered dress.

“Y-yes,” you stammered, grasping his tie, feeding your words directly into his smug mouth. “Wanted to look pretty for you,” you conceded.

“Only thing more lovely than a bird in blue is a woman who wears her confidence like a second skin. Tell me you didn’t walk in here thinkin’ you could pull me, or are you just a nightingale pretending to be a peacock, flaunting your feathers, yet too afraid to show me your true colors?”

You were floored; you could not answer, having hoped that you could sway him, but doubting your plan from the get-go. You dare not tell him, too shy to admit your shortcomings, and too proud to acknowledge he had hit the nail on the head. Instead, you stared unabashedly, even as your cheeks burned, swallowing down the knot in your throat as you remained transfixed on eyes that glowed like candles in the dark.

“Too bad,” Valentine teased, rousing you from your stupor by way of calculated movements beneath your dress, “Suppose I’ll have to find out the hard way.”

Your breath hitched as the tips of faux fingers thoughtfully guided your panties to one side, Valentine expertly trailing his forefinger through your excess to the top of your slit. The Synth grazed the swollen sheath of glands pulsating adamantly between your legs, finding his rhythm, administering just enough friction to get a rise out of you, as intended.

“Nick,” you gasped, the fingers of one hand still cinched around his tie as the fingers of the other clawed into false flesh. He slid back down, following that happy little trail of slickness, its viscosity registering as wet against microscopic sensors, Nick’s index finger delving into something so moist, so soft.

“Why don’t you tell me how long you’ve dreamt of this? Tell me this isn’t some dime-store hookup you’re using to scratch an itch, I dare you,” he growled darkly into your ear.

You could only whimper as he worked you, aiming for the seat of your pleasure, Nick’s thumb running concentric circles around your turgid clit in perfect unison with that part of him that was introducing pressure to your G-spot. You had the gall to rock your hips, balancing like a flamingo on one leg, though he held you close between himself and the wall, not once allowing you to think you might stumble and fall.

“Always think of you, where you are, what you’re up to,” you breathed. “Never leave my mind.”

“What else?” he asked, brazenly steeping another finger, your soaked cunt riding both together as you shamelessly kept undulating your pelvic arch, already so near to climax.

“Dreamt of kissing you, making love to you. Wanted to know what touching you might feel like, warm, co-cold,” you moaned. “If you could ever want me back, if y-you knew just how much I adore you, how much I wish to be the one to make you smile…”

“Is that right?” Nick titillated you toward orgasm without any extra effort, feeling yourself spill out all over him as you vocalized to the heavens, Valentine not relenting until you were spent. Then, he retracted as simple as that, lifting you up, the Synth forcing you to wrap that other leg around him in order to carry you the few feet between him and the bed.

“And did you ever think of what you’d do if I didn’t have the parts?” he began, tossing you carefully onto the mattress. You watched in longing as he shucked his trench off for it to slide down the length of his arms, gathering in a pile at his feet.

“Fuck. It wouldn’t matter,” you insisted, sitting up on the palms of your hands. “It wouldn’t matter,” you repeated more urgently, adjusting to crawl forward, unable to keep yourself from him now that you had a taste.

“And what you’d do if I didn’t reciprocate?” The hat was next, tossed haphazardly off to the side.

You gaped at him, unable to come up with a satisfactory response, scouring his pleasing form from head to toe with your eyes, admiring his shoulder holster, his weapon of choice, and the suspenders that dug into his shoulders.

“I’m more machine than man; typically… disappointing to dames like you. But I’ve got nothing to hide, and I mean that literally,” he quipped, loosening and discarding his tie. What he did next surprised you, Valentine placing one knee on the bed. He pushed you backward, fitting himself right between your thighs.

“Never stopped me before,” he muttered, coercing you to lie back. In the blink of an eye, he had slipped your panties down and off, flipping the tail end of your skirt up and over your lap, exposing the soft mound between your legs.

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” he commented; how to go down on a beautiful woman was not something he would soon forget, no matter he wasn’t in the body he was born with.

You gasped before settling into a melodious moan as he swiped his tongue across your sensitive bud, Nick noticing you were tuned to the key of C, a low-frequency tonal sound that made his robotic brain buzz with something akin to happiness.

Before you knew it, he had buried himself, embedding his articulate tongue in your tepid core. Responsive biosensors did their job of transmitting physiological data concerning the presence of chemical compounds that happened to be coming into contact with his face; the detective was well aware of what that meant without having to overthink it, appreciative of the way you writhed against the bed.

“Valentine,” you mewled, arm reaching, fingers stretching to caress a hinged jaw made of filaments and wires, more unbidden tears finding their way to your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you implored, exploring the sharp contours of his inhumane face, the actuate planes and angles, the rough textures, the smooth remnants, the electrical undercurrent that hummed beneath the surface of his pseudo-flesh, causing you to cry out as he obliged, but not in the way you had expected.

Nick lapped at your cunt like it was a second mouth, attentive to every little move your body made as it wriggled and quivered, spasming with each long lick. He showed no mercy, relentlessly fucking you with his spongy tongue at a slow and steady pace, brushing the back of an alloyed finger along the cut where hip met thigh.

“Please,” you tried again, though in your heart of hearts you did not want him to stop. He refocused on your clit, being oh-so careful as he slid a single metallic digit into your wet pith, tensile fibers remaining elongated so as not to maim and injure, but to experiment, your pelvic muscles clenching around him as he began to suck.

“I can’t,” you professed, unable to elaborate, to stop your mounting orgasm. Your back arched as your hips bucked upward to meet his all too talented mouth, forcing a sound out of you that was reminiscent of pain but indicative of pleasure as you came a second time that night, Nick withdrawing his hand, his carbon-ferrous finger, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“Sweetheart, did I—”

Valentine flexed his unsheathed digits, composed of bare metal, his forefinger saturated and glistening, yet he was worried. His painted brows quirked upward as he rose to meet your face, his palm fitting itself around the curve of your waist, as gentle as can be.

He stared into your soul with those penetrative, aureate eyes, wishing you hadn’t of done that. Wishing he hadn’t of done that—it had been just plain ignorant on his part, but he didn’t figure you’d go and move so suddenly. And truth be told, you were beautiful, a thing too good to pass up. He wasn’t exactly a hot commodity these days, though a part of him—the inhuman part—didn’t think he was worth it.

Still, it was a difficult thing to just give up when he had urges, needs, wants, desires—or at least he thought he did. It was hard to tell where the real Nick began and Synth Nick ended, but for now he was experiencing an emotion that was real enough to give him pause.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his mood turning toward something serious, Valentine wondering if he had caused anything irreparable. He didn’t think he could live with himself if he’d gone and hurt an innocent—especially like this—despite the fact he wasn’t exactly alive to begin with.

You did not answer, studying the change in his demeanor, observing as his tough guy persona disappeared to be replaced by the sweet, caring man you had grown to cherish over the past few months.

He was two sides of the same coin, but you had known that going in, purposefully trailing your fingers across denuded metal toward a gathering of thick red wires, caressing the coils between the gap in his neck with the utmost tenderness.

“I’ve never been better,” you promised, appraising the look of quiet bliss that overtook him, realizing this sort of thing might be his little secret—he came back to himself just in time to put a halt to your investigation, the Synth oddly silent as he searched for something deep within your eyes.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you offered with a genuine pout, but Nick held fast to your wrist, going back to how this whole game had started. His apprehension was clear, the detective reading like an overdue library book. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad, a little disappointed, instead climbing onto his lap, draping yourself over his sound thighs.

“I don’t let just anyone poke around inside me—what makes you think you’ll make the cut?” he asked, slipping a stray bit of hair behind your ear in a gesture so human it made your heart ache.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Nick.” It was the truth.

He’d redirect you for now, but you couldn’t blame him— you were surprised that you had even gotten this far.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he replied. “Tell me something about yourself. What do I need to know besides exactly how you taste?”

You smiled, assuming that one day he might trust you well enough to return the favor.

Baby steps. You could be patient. The only thing that mattered was that at that moment, you had him to yourself.

“I once killed a Yao guai with my bear hands,” you joked, taking the time to notice just how many kiss marks you had left all over him—time to add one more, just to play it safe.

“There they are.”

“What?”

“Your true colors.”

Your lips spread into a mischievous grin.

“On second thought, I think I’m going to need a drink for this.”

At least he hadn’t kicked you out yet.  

“That’s fair,” you said.

[snowzapped]

Pencil Sketch Commissions

Anyone wants 5-10 dollar pencil sketches? I'll draw you 1-2 characters. Might be half body, might be full. Depends on the vibe. :D

My computer's power supply got fried in a power surge during a typhoon last week. There was intermittent black screens when they installed a new power supply. Turns out it was the motherboard. They're still trying to fix it.

I need a new power supply and an avr (automatic voltage regulator) because of frequent blackouts and fluctuations. They might hold my pc in the shop for weeks if the motherboard needs to be replaced by the manufacturer (under warranty). I can't work. This is a cry for help. 😅

This is my Kofi and my commissions page.

Let me know what you want if you sent me a kofi. I'll send you a pic when it's done and a clean scan when the pc is back. If you want a regular commission, it might take a bit. Reblogs help too. Thank you so much.

My pencils look like this:

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Berta Joubert-Ceci

Since the privatization of the electricity service, we have lived with unstable electricity. The blackouts, which last for hours, and voltage fluctuations have caused not only unrest among the population, but many people have lost everything from appliances, electronic devices, and food to their homes, which have burned down either by a short circuit or by the explosion of an electric generator. And let’s not even mention the cost to their health.

[magntx]

Magneto and Science ↪      Part 1

the subtle hum of iron in blood, steel bending at his fingertips, the pull of Earth's core beneath his feet, wires and circuits speak, magnetic flux arcing between his hands, reading Einstein's equations, the muted thrum of power grids in distant cities, the metallic taste in the air before a storm, the distant buzz of high-voltage lines, the scent of ozone, strewn blueprint, the infinite spiral of energy, late night lights, monogrammed notes, wrapped books, late night discussions

↪     𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Magneto has many unfinished manuscripts and half-completed papers

⠀ ⠀𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘: Electro and other types of magnetism, geophysics, interaction of magnetic frequencies with forces (plasma), theories on atoms / quantums / magnetism, mutant powers, ferromagnetism, fluid magnetism, metamagnetism, renewable energies, mechanics and engineering, Quantum-mechanical origin of magnetism, material science, space-centered development, the solarsystem, magnetars, earth's core and nature's magnetism, spacecraft propulsion based on manipulating planetary magnetic forces, Superconductivity Mechanisms, magnetic fibers (his suits)

⠀ ⠀𝙌𝙪𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙢 𝙈𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘𝙨: Ambitious, albeit speculative, the interaction between quantum states and large-scale magnetic fields in plasmas. These theories suggest controlling the behavior of stars and cosmic bodies with magnetism—a kind of stellar engineering. Though untested, some astrophysicists have unknowingly referenced his work under pseudonyms in papers on solar magnetic field anomalies.

The science of Magneto and Gambit interacting creating a Magnetar or Black Hole -- not even Sinister mixes that.

His published works carry pseudonyms.

⠀ ⠀After his time on Asteroid M, various blueprints surfaced on inventions. Various particle colliders and electron molecule systems have been adjusted to the newly recognised modells.

⠀ ⠀His works push the boundaries of conventional scientific thought. Also quoting 'my powers' is ... debatable. (searching for proof of magnetic monopoles. reconcile the monopole with standard model inconsistencies, leaving behind cryptic hints for any physicist lucky (or unlucky) enough to find them.)

⠀ ⠀𝐓𝐇𝐄 "𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓": Electromagnetic Biophysics. A term coined to describe the phenomenon of magnetic fields influencing biological systems. It is oftentimes also used otherwise in sociopolitic studies.

He has funded numerous scientific research projects, often under pseudonyms. He is but a benevolent supporter ... (He gets along with Doc Ock and Bruce Banner occasionally)

⠀ ⠀Genosha utilised a large portion of his blueprints on renewable energies. The entire city layout was revolutionised for the purpose and therefore an almost "Solarpunk" city.

In later years, scientists call upon him for cross-referencing work and data in molecular and frequency studies. Also, sometimes he is also good for checking if a supercollider has a hole...

⠀ ⠀He does not like nanotech as it is more difficult to grasp.

⠀ ⠀Imagine some human scientist not realising they are basing all their work off of Magneto, the scary mutant terrorist. You try to avoid his study but you keep finding the name.

Scientific Magazines with his name and interviews

Young Mutants in school writing papers on him, or reports and they write him letters and he replies to their questions.

⠀ ⠀"We need to call him" - "We are NOT calling Magneto"

Some geophysicists unknowingly reference his work, citing unexplained phenomena in magnetic field fluctuations that were actually on him.

⠀ ⠀Sometimes you have to part the person (a mutant terrorist and villain) from its work -- or something.

[techav]

On Bodging Silly Mistakes

After a few weeks of rest and working on non-homebrew-related projects since getting my 68030 stack running 8-user BASIC, I've circled back around to the project. My goal is to have it ready to exhibit for VCF Southwest 2025 in June.

The first thing to do when picking up an old project is to make sure it still works to begin with.

It did not.

The computer would start up, go through its boot process, and start the user programs. The supervisor terminal would accept and execute commands, but none of the user terminals would accept input.

I could tell the serial data was making it to the machine, because my 8-port serial card has indicator LEDs on the Transmit & Receive signals and they were working as expected. If I held down a key as the system booted, it would print that character a few times before stopping and then no longer accept any more data. So it really looked like the hardware was working. Nothing had changed in software so that wasn't likely to be the issue.

It reminded me of the problems I encountered with reading from disk when CPU cache was preventing the updated disk status bit from being read. The serial card supports asserting the CPU's Cache Inhibit signal, but perhaps that circuit wasn't functioning. There was no change with it connected or not. Time to break out the oscilloscope. The Cache Inhibit signal was always low — always asserted. Cache wasn't the problem because cache was effectively always disabled.

Out of ideas, it was time to break out the logic analyzer. The I/O Read & Write signals on the serial card were working as expected, and it was properly addressing the card & its individual ports. So next thing was to check was the actual data being read from the UARTs.

Letting the logic analyzer run and watching the data fly through, the problem finally made itself known — the UARTs were not setting bit 0 of the status byte to indicate that they had received data. The data was getting to the UART, it just wasn't acknowledged.

But why? And why did it work initially on restart and then stop? And why did it work without issue a few weeks ago? What is different?

What is different, indeed. I have made one change to the hardware since I last ran it — I added a proper watchdog/power-on-reset controller. If the power supply drops below 4.7 volts, it will reset the computer. The power supply I had been using was marginal and was getting caught by the watchdog, so I switched to a proper power PC supply.

So what's different since last time I ran the system is my reset circuit is more effective and the system voltage should be much more stable 5V.

And that's when I realized a mistake I made in the design for my 8-port serial card. The 68k reset signal is active-low and the 16C55x UART reset signal is active-high. I was trying to minimize part count, and didn't have an inverter for the reset signal, so I used what I had on hand — a buffer with an active-low enable signal.

Anyone well-versed in electronics may already see the problem.

When the CPU-RESET# signal is asserted (low), the buffer will set its output, IO-RESET to match its input, VCC (high). That's great, we get a high signal on the output whenever the CPU Reset signal is low.

Except ... what happens when the CPU Reset signal is not asserted? The buffer goes open-collector and doesn't pull the IO-RESET signal one way or the other; it's just left floating.

Floating signals are bad news for digital circuits. Their behavior is unpredictable and subject to environmental noise, power fluctuations, etc. For my IO-RESET signal to function properly, something needs to pull it low whenever the 74'125 buffer is not actively driving it high. A good-sized pull-down resistor should do the job just fine, so I dug through my stock and found a 3.65k surface-mount resistor and bodged it onto the back side of the board.

And sure enough, that fixed the problem!

It is possible that when I was running the system on that marginal power supply previously, the IO-RESET signal was able to stay just low enough to not trigger reset on the UARTs. Or it could have just been different environmental factors.

I'm glad I took the time to test the machine today, and I'm glad this bug came up. It's the kind of bug that could easily have come up when running in a new environment for the first time — such as on the show floor at VCFSW. Far better to run into a bug like this at home with access to all of the tools (and time) to figure it out.

Now that things are up and running again I can continue my testing and setup for VCFSW.

[autoledledming]

CMB3511 BA9S T10 HP3 LED 9

Description

CMB3511 BA9S T10 HP3 LED 9

1. LED Miniature Lamp

Suitable for car and truck LED lighting, including vehicle rear lights, position lights, reading lights, and side lights.

Designed with a BA9S Base and T10-HP3 LED 9, ensuring compatibility with various vehicle and industrial lighting applications.

2. High Compatibility & Non-Polarity Design

The CMB3511 LED bulb features a BA9S base with a single contact point, designed to be non-polar for 12V, 24V AC/DC applications.

Allows for easy installation regardless of polarity, making it a versatile solution for multiple lighting systems.

3. High Power & Efficiency

Equipped with 9 high-quality SMD5050 LEDs.

Single bulb power consumption: 1.44W, providing enhanced brightness while maintaining energy efficiency.

Luminous flux reaches 160 lumens, improving visibility and lighting performance.

4. Wide Voltage Input (10~30V Design)

Supports 10~30V AC/DC, ensuring stable and reliable operation across various vehicle and industrial applications.

The wide voltage design allows the bulb to adapt to fluctuating voltage conditions, enhancing durability and system compatibility.

5. Durable & Long Service Life

Service life: 50,000 hours, significantly reducing maintenance and replacement costs.

Manufactured using high-temperature solder paste and reflow welding technology, ensuring stable performance and long-lasting quality.

6. Voltage Precautions

Before use, ensure the power supply voltage matches the LED bulb’s design voltage to prevent damage or burnout.

Each LED bulb has a voltage value marked on the base for easy reference.

7. Easy Installation

Compact size: L35mm × W11mm, ensuring compatibility with most BA9S socket applications.

Please carefully check the bulb size and user manual before purchasing, or contact us for assistance.

Technical Specifications

Power supply: 12VAC OR 24VAC

LED specifications and quantity: SMD5050-0.2W, 9 SMD5050 LEDs

Wide voltage input: 10~30V AC/DC

[aultenblogs]

AULTEN Mainline Voltage Stabilizer for Home 5 KVA Heavy Duty 4000W 130V-280V

Understanding Voltage Fluctuations at Home and How to Handle Them

Voltage fluctuations at home can cause significant issues for your electrical appliances, from air conditioners and refrigerators to lights and electronics. These fluctuations occur when the electrical voltage supply varies from the standard level, either increasing (over-voltage) or decreasing (under-voltage), leading to potential damage or inefficiency in your devices.

Common causes of voltage fluctuations include power grid issues, faulty wiring, or even the high demand for electricity during peak hours. These fluctuations can cause appliances to overheat, malfunction, or reduce their lifespan.

To protect your appliances, it's essential to use devices like voltage stabilizers that regulate the incoming power and maintain a steady voltage level. A stabilizer ensures that your appliances receive the required voltage, preventing damage and improving their efficiency.

In conclusion, voltage fluctuations at home are a common issue but can be easily managed with the right protection. Installing a voltage stabilizer or upgrading your home’s wiring can prevent unnecessary wear and tear on your devices, saving you money in repairs and extending the lifespan of your electrical appliances.

[amitsm356]

How to Protect Luxury Homes from Electrical Failures

Luxury homes are equipped with high-end appliances, sophisticated lighting systems, and advanced home automation setups. Electrical failures in such homes can lead to costly damages, inconvenience, and even safety hazards. Protecting a luxury home from electrical failures requires a combination of advanced protective devices, proper wiring, and proactive maintenance. Here’s a comprehensive guide…

[shimmershy]

Hello volta ! I wanted to know, how many "volt" do you produce ? ... Yep... I just did that... I Can only pray for my life now..

I miss you're drawing...

I miss you're Frisk cute face

More importantly, i miss you're beautifull Chara...

I miss you...

Hello! To answer your question, I definitely produce a normal and safe amount of volts! That may come as a "shock" because of my name, but it is definitely true! No dangerous high voltage situations here! ^_^

Teehee. Also thank you!! That's very sweet, it's nice to be acknowledged and missed, and I also apologize for the lack of art and activity here in general. I miss drawing Undertale-related stuff myself, especially Chara and Frisk, but there's just been a whole mixture of reasons why I haven't been posting much.

No need to read all of this; I have a feeling I'm going to be rambling a bit, but overall it's just because my interest in Undertale kind of fluctuates and since I was kind of hardcore in an Undertale phase for a few months (or like...a year kinda), it's died down a bit lately. But not to worry; Undertale's always been my main interest, so it's always kinda "there", or comes back eventually.

But ALSO, I've become interested in a lot of other things lately too. And they're aaaall fighting for my attention because I'm like equally interested in all of them and that creates its own problem. Basically I've been having trouble creating stuff at all lately due to being all over the place, but being kind of "no thoughts, head empty" at the same time (brain problems...)

And on top of that, maybe this is too awkward or personal to share, but it's been hard for me to keep track of what's important to me lately, so it's like. I know I want to draw, I know I want art to continue to be my thing, but I don't know what art I want to create. I don't know what kind of passion or project I want to devote my time to, and often it's just been driving me to avoid art altogether. I get overwhelmed because it feels like I don't have enough time to get to all the things I want to do, and it takes me so long to draw simple things, AND my interest in things changes more often than I can keep up with. Should I draw a simple drawing today, because it might be fun, and I could complete it easily, even though the reward will be short lived? Or should I try to work on this larger project again, because it's what I want to work on more and will probably make me feel more satisfied in the long run, even though it might not be fun now? Even though I might lose interest in it tomorrow and the progress will kinda be wasted? OR should I do this completely other thing?

It's just very. Eugh. I think too much. There's so much stuff I want to create, but I guess at this point I'm just going to have to give it time and patience. I've been trying to focus my energy on enjoying other parts of my life instead for now. It kind of helps.

But Undertale is not dead in my heart. Yes it is 2024, but I still have at least two Undertale stories I've wanted to start and just haven't gotten around to yet, so there's that at the very least. I doubt those will leave me alone until I do something with them. Plus I've been drawing Chara and Frisk Undertale for like, 8 years so I'm not going to stop now???? So. Woe. Hopes and Dreams be upon ye. 🎊