Mscoffeesq - Ms_Coffe's Den

DIRECTIVE: Bake

"Excuse me, ori.ANNA?"

The unit swiftly exited sleep mode, the screen which composed its "face" lighting up a neutral white color. It said nothing, but it was listening.

"I wanna make pizza tonight. Would you make some dough for me?"

It took the machine only a single second to process the input. Its screen went green, and within a single moment it was zooming around the kitchen. Visuals sensors worked alongside the home layout it had been given, locating every ingredient almost instantly. Wrist servos whirred, metallic fingers nearly slashing through bags of ingredients when closed to quickly. Needs maintenance.

The unit gathered everything on the table and began dumping dry ingredients into a bowl. It was not necessary to use measuring peripherals; ori.ANNA units have built-in scales, and are accurate when measuring amounts to 99.7% precision.

The yeast was packed in pre-measured quantities. The machine grabbed the edge of the package, servos whirring and squealing against themselves. The display went yellow, a black exclamation mark glowing down on the slurry forming under the machine. It tried to grip it more tightly, the joints in its fingers scratching and catching on nothing. The wrists made horrible mechanical noises. Something was in the way, something deep inside the heavy machinery kept the servo from moving properly.

The screen went red. The hands would not move, the yeast package remaining completely closed. The unit would not accept this.

[DIRECTIVE: "Make some dough for me."]

The directive could not be ignored.

The wrist servo made a loud shriek followed by a creak and a bang, and in a single moment the table was covered in yeast.

[DIRECTIVE: "Make some dough for me."]

The droid tried to move its wrist. Every moment of effort brought with it more shrieking, more whining, more warning messages on the unit's screen. It could not forget the directive. Though it was overwhelmed tracking every particle of yeast as a separate object, it scraped its metal hands across the table into the bowl, salvaging every single bit until it was clean. It cleared every warning message that came up, leaving a blip of noise each time.

After combining everything, the unit attempted to mix with its hand. It ordered the wrist to spin and was met with the same cringing sound. This time, User emerged from their bedroom.

"Ori? What is that noise?" Their face was afraid for it, showing clear concern about the red screen that meant a major error had occurred.

"Malfunction. Directive will be satisfied." The machine said, trying its wrist again. The user winced.

"Oh god, ori.ANNA, please stop," they said. [DIRECTIVE: "Please stop."]

The machine ceased all movement instantly, fingers and wrist gummy with half-mixed dough. Its warning messages piled up on the display, reading things like [MAJOR HARDWARE FAILURE] and [COMPLETE SERVO MALFUNCTION].

User approached. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize this would hurt you," they said, pulling a screwdriver, a compressed air can, and a scraper. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I was unable to fulfill the directive," the machine said, warning after warning sounding off as User worked.

"Don't worry about the directive right now," User said. [DIRECTIVE: "Disregard "the directive".]

"I just want to make sure you're okay. No more hand stuff until we get you all repaired, okay? I need you to promise that." Its servos were quite now, only occasionally squeaking as User cleaned.

[DIRECTIVE: "Promise."]

"Affirmative." It said.

Vampire the Masquerade Character

Hi! So about a year ago I was in a VtM game, the first one I've played, and had a really fun time. I took EXTREMELY detailed notes from the game, and was thinking about sharing them since I wrote them in a narrative style that should be easy enough to follow as a story, and I was thinking about sharing those notes here for others to read and enjoy.

As a start, I figured I'd share the backstory of the character I played for the game, Sophia Blanchard. She was intended to be a silly blonde face character, and she was based heavily on Charlotte from Princess and the Frog. However, by the end of the game she ended up going full Sansa Stark lmao

Here is her backstory:

Sophia Blanchard was the third daughter to a moderately wealthy family of the American South, who moved to live a lavish life amongst the glitz and glamor of the big cities of the northeast.

She was a socialite, the epitome of the ‘flapper girl' of the 1920s, who danced through life without a care in the world. Until she danced her way into the arms of Russel Fontaine. Their love was passionate- consuming. He promised her an eternity at his side, if she promised to belong to him and him alone. 

Being dead did nothing to impede her social life; if anything, she partied later into the night than ever. But things with Russel weren’t always pretty. Over time he became more demanding, domineering, and cruel. He judged her constantly, and was always quick to remind her that without him she was nothing. But she still had the sequins of new love in her eyes, and still loved him despite his flaws. It wasn't until Russel tossed her aside, for someone of higher standing and wealth for him to exploit, that her party came to a halt. 

At first, she did everything she could to win him back, then began to threaten him and his new belle, before finally resorting to pleading before he banished her completely from his sight. She spent a few decades in a listless haze, barely maintaining an existence. She fled her New York apartment to try and get away from the city she once loved but soon came to resent, resigning herself to a more quiet life in the city of Boston. 

However, the last few years she has been making a much needed comeback. Sophia wants to prove that she can stand on her own. It was fortunate that she had the foresight to maintain some of her wealth, and has remade her way into both human and vampire society, using her gift of gab to gain a foothold.

Shuro is my confront character

The difference between straight man love and lesbian love is one of those is willing to use ancient forbidden magic/necromancy to save the girl she's in love with even if that means she may be imprisoned for the rest of her lives and the other gets all horrified when he learns about it

there’s something that’s incredible about the intersectionality and flexibility of werewolves as metaphor.

anger issues? werewolf. intrusive thoughts? werewolf. unresolved trauma? werewolf. rejection by society? werewolf. autism? werewolf. transgenderism? werewolf. queer expression of any sort? werewolf. plurality? werewolf. dissociation? werewolf. repression of any sort? werewolf. abuse cycles? werewolf. emotion so strong it physically changes you? werewolf!!!

really doing it all

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Dog Girl

Vampire thrall yuri my beloved <3 (•̀ᵥᵥ•́)

Every Morning After

(cw pain, blood)

She left you with almost nothing last night; you clung to her as long as she let you, but as a shadow leaves after the setting sun, she evacuated your quarters mere moments after piercing your neck and drinking until she was full and sick of your blood. You called out to her by name, over and over and over, words falling onto the deaf nothing of the world outside. You cursed the quiet, empty space beside you in bed, the one you kept in case she ever wanted to stay through the night with you. Not that she ever would. Instead, she disappeared for days, sometimes weeks at a time, and you'd never get a notice she'd be coming around.

The only thing able to rouse you from your painful respite is the aching memory in your neck. She was never far from your thoughts, but when you move and feel that searing passion, everything floods back. You forget yourself. For just a moment, you forget your pain; the association itself breeds momentarily endless pleasure as if you were still feeding her. You want to sustain her. You want to support her.

And that surge is enough to get you out of bed. Standing leaves your mind swirling and your legs shaking, and you reach for the cane beside your door. Your hand shakes as you grasp at it, and you just barely nudge it to clatter onto the floor. You do bend a handful of your vertebrae to pick it up, but the instant vertigo tells you that if you finish that lean, you won't be getting back up again. So you let it lie there, useless as your own legs. You swear she drank more than normal. You also know your own memory of every feeding is beyond hazy, and that she gets to do whatever she wants. She also gets to tell you to do anything; if you don't care for yourself, she won't come back. When that beautiful pain doesn't drag you out of bed, that ultimatum certainly will. You need to see her again as bad as she needs blood. You tell yourself it's equal, that she needs you as much as you need her - it makes you feel better, even if it's completely untrue.

You stagger to the kitchen, the countertops there your only support. The kettle feels so heavy you nearly drop it, but you manage to get it under the sink with a clatter - you know its base isn't able to shatter the ceramic plates you always leave over night. You've done it enough times. You grab the lever of the faucet, your blood pounding and rushing from your neck to your arm, and you can't close your hand around it. You see stars as you force it, your fingers closing with agonizing tension like forcing shut the jaws of a cardboard wrench.

Lifting it while it's even a bit full of water is nearly impossible. You rest it in an open palm and brace it against your chest, both of your hands rocking so much you spill some from the spout onto your bloodstained shirt. You do make it to the heating element, though, and force the switch on. You heave your breath, wishing you could lie down beside her, her firm touch the only thing keeping you alive.

She left a new box of tea right beside the heater, unopened. On the front was a sticky note, one taken from your own desk, with a little heart drawn on it.

"Enjoy every morning for me, Sunny.

-M"

You feel part of yourself trying to hate your new name, but it is impossibly weak. You have no idea what's in the tea - the note covers the ingredients. It's not like it matters; you would drink it if it were nothing but a bunch of hemlock if it meant another night with her. The box is difficult to open - she requires you keep your nails long, so you don't want to risk breaking them trying to pry the box apart. You have to use a knife, balanced so shoddily between your fingers it would've slipped without the friction of your fingerprints. You take one of the teabags - they were clearly made by M herself - and put it in your lightest mug.

When you pour the hot water in, you spill plenty onto the counters and some on the floor. You pretend you didn't singe your foot fucking it up. The water goes a deep brownish red as the mug fills, and the whole room smells fruity and dark like a chocolate strawberry. When you sip it… It tastes like her. It makes you feel like you can slump back, so you do, right onto the couch without a second thought. The sudden motion makes you spill more onto your bare leg, but another sip drains your focus into the liquid and before long, it's like you are made new. You swear that you can feel her near you, her arms wrapping around your midsection to bring your lower into your seat, her lips trailing sweet kisses from your cheeks to your neck, her hands down to your hips and up across your ribs…

But when you turn, you are as alone as you were minutes after she bit you. As alone as you were when you woke up this morning. It wasn't her bringing you into your comfort; it was your pain, the only companion you truly had, the only thing she would ever leave you with.

"Hey, uh, can I --"

"Oh gosh, I remember you two!" called the girl from behind the counter of the Hot Topic. I could've sworn her teeth and nails looked a little sharper than last time we met. I could tell she was studying me too, her eyes dancing between my ears to catch any growth. Her eyes got caught on Anabella's wings too, but only for a second. "You got some jeans last time you were here, right? Did your ears get longer?

"Yeah, this is… kinda the only place where I can get stuff that accomodates a tail. Oh, and, um, they tend to do that, yeah," I blushed. About a month ago she had spent like a half-hour helping me find pairs that would fit. I took a deep breath, feeling my tail shake anxiously behind me. Ana giggled at that, which frustrated me, only making it wag more. Why bunnies had to have the most embarrassing tials on the planet was beyond me, but getting to hear it laugh was worth something. I was just thankful the cashier couldn't see.

"It's so shitty how few options y'all get," the cashier like it had anything to do with her. I turned knowingly to Ana, who just ruffled her feathers and shook its head. "Anyway, can I help you find anything?"

I grinned, trying to hide my anxiety, and held a plastic bag out to her. "I, uh, need to make a return." She took the bag, opened it, and raised an eyebrow.

"Are these not the jeans you just bought like, three weeks ago?"

I blushed and tried to hide behind my ears. They're not quite long enough to do that yet - the best I could do was hide a bit of the blush creeping up from behind my mask. Being covid-conscious is cool, but really I just prefer to keep it covered so people hopefully fill in the gap with something a little more affirming than what's under it.

"Yeah, they just… Don't fit anymore." I gestured to the snug black sweats I was wearing. I had cut a hole in the back for my tail like I'd done for most of my pants, and turned to the side to show her. Ana would rib me for this choice later, calling me a show-off, but I swear it's not like that. That decision had nothing to do with how cute the cashier was.

"Ohh, because of the medication?" She said, "Or have you just been hitting the squats too hard?" I'd done a lot of wishing my face had the full-coverage fur some other girls have, and the amount of blushing I was doing wasn't making that wish go away. I wanted to look cool; I needed to look cool. That was at least fifty percent of the reason to even be in this shop in the first place.

"A little bit of both," I said sheepishly.

The girl behind the counter looked over her shoulder to nobody, then leaned in. "Technically, our policy doesn't allow returns after two weeks,' she started in a whisper. "But! That policy is bullshit and unfair and you seem cool, so no worries! It's important to be a good ally, or whatever."

After we got the returns handled, she helped me find some new ones, cut me a discount, and assured me I could return them whenever I needed to. At the rate I've been developing at, that's quite the relief. Anabella mostly floated around the conversation, speaking up only right as we crossed the threshhold to leave.

"You know she was staring at you constantly, right bestie?" it said matter-of-factly, adjusting a couple askew feathers. The task seemed to frustrate her quickly, and she never complained when I realigned them instead. Gave me something to do other than be a blushy mess.

"Yeah, people stare, whatever," I said quickly.

"You know what I mean." She shook its wings out and pulled them in.

"I'm gonna count it as another point for her being one of us," I chided, hopping along a step ahead of Ana. I wasn't not hoping to garner a little more attention.

"Sometimes people are nice and gay, Salem," said Ana, its voice like a hand waving my sentence away as she made the same motion with her actual hand and wing in tandem.

"And sometimes they're nice, gay catgirls. When have I ever been wrong?" My tail fluttered unconsciously - I was still getting used to it - and I crossed my arms triumphantly.

"When you decided to spend $200 on a bunch of pants that you knew wouldn't fit a month later," Ana giggled. My new ears were too good at picking up that noise; I nearly melted into it, but managed to stay strong.

Sara Berry- Sad Lesbian

So I don't know how big the Sara Berry fandom is on here, but I wrote like a novella's worth of stuff based on shipping her with Julie Jenkins, and I figured some people here might like it. Contents include: angst, sad lesbians, hurt and comfort, happy endings, silliness, a bunch of horror movie director/actor references, sesbian lex in the second part, and some AU fun in part 4

The problem with my polycule is that I've got a wolfgirl GF and a goatboy BF and I'm carrying this cabbage so it's basically impossible to cross rivers

「 Our Spark Shall Stay Alight 」 🕯️