#laser marking systems

[hslasers]

C. And C. Laser Engineering Pvt Ltd. is known for offering all kinds of industrial laser solutions and a range of Scientific and Industrial Laser Products and Services. This includes Industrial Products right from small components, and various spares of laser systems to the installation of complete laser workstations along with maintenance and servicing.

We provide laser workstations with or without material handling systems that are used for laser marking, laser engraving, deep engraving, laser welding, laser cutting, nanosecond micro-machining, and ultra-micro-machining.

We also offer laser-based solutions using Nano–Pico – Femtosecond, IR, Green, UV and DUV lasers.

We have more than 30 years of experience in the laser industry  and with this vast experience and range of laser technology available, we are able to provide high-quality laser services and laser systems in the industry.

We provided lasers and services as well for our principal namely – 

Control Laser Corporation, 

Iradion MegaWatt Lasers QPC Lasers Amplitude Lasers (Continuum), PhotoScribe  Uptek

The Scientific range of products from C. And C. Laser Engineering have various applications and some of them are LIDAR, Macromolecules research, Laser microprobes analysis, Fiber Bragg grating diagnostics, Laser-Induced Breakdown Spectroscopy (LIBS), laser flash photolysis, Synchronized pumping of other lasers, Interferometry, Biological imaging, Materials process research.

Our laser marking job work and laser engraving job work is acknowledged and appreciated for their precision, details, and uniformity on any metals and non-metals.

Our prime goal is to offer the best and excellent services and quality products to our customers and always put in our best efforts to achieve that objective.

[steampunktendencies]

The Playa Crawler: A Kinetic Walking Chair for Burning Man

In 2017, engineer Mark Ellis designed an innovative kinetic chair called The Playa Crawler to navigate the vast expanse of Burning Man. Inspired by the Strandbeest sculptures of Dutch artist Theo Jansen, this unique chair is specifically crafted to withstand the alkaline terrain of the Black Rock Desert.

Mark Ellis wanted a personal vehicle that was both functional and original for getting around Burning Man. This led him to create a chair that walks using a system of articulated legs. This mechanism, invented by Theo Jansen, allows the chair to move similarly to Jansen's giant sculptures, which are propelled by the wind along the beaches.

Built from laser-cut aluminum and steel, The Playa Crawler is equipped with two electric wheelchair motors, batteries, and is controlled via a wheelchair joystick.

Video by Jessbeegood

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon's bestselling "bitter lemon" energy drink was bottled delivery driver piss

Today (Oct 20), I'm in Charleston, WV at Charleston's Taylor Books from 12h-14h.

For a brief time this year, the bestselling "bitter lemon drink" on Amazon was "Release Energy," which consisted of the harvested urine of Amazon delivery drivers, rebottled for sale by Catfish UK prankster Oobah Butler in a stunt for a new Channel 4 doc, "The Great Amazon Heist":

https://www.channel4.com/programmes/the-great-amazon-heist

Collecting driver piss is surprisingly easy. Amazon, you see, puts its drivers on a quota that makes it impossible for them to drive safely, park conscientiously, or, indeed, fulfill their basic human biological needs. Amazon has long waged war on its employees' kidneys, marking down warehouse workers for "time off task" when they visit the toilets.

As tales of drivers pissing – and shitting! – in their vans multiplied, Amazon took decisive action. The company enacted a strict zero tolerance policy for drivers returning to the depot with bottles of piss in their vans.

That's where Butler comes in: the roads leading to Amazon delivery depots are lined with bottles of piss thrown out of delivery vans by drivers who don't want to lose their jobs, which made harvesting the raw material for "Release Energy" a straightforward matter.

Butler was worried that he wouldn't be able to list his product on Amazon because he didn't have the requisite "food and drinks licensing" certificates, so he listed his drink in Amazon's refillable pump dispenser category. But Amazon's systems detected the mismatch and automatically shifted the product into the drinks section.

Butler enlisted some confederates to place orders for his drink, and it quickly rocketed to the top of Amazon's listings for the category, which led to Amazon's recommendation engine pushing the item on people who weren't in on the gag. When these orders came in, Butler pulled the plug, but not before an Amazon rep telephoned him to pitch him turning packaging, shipping and fulfillment over to Amazon:

https://www.wired.com/story/amazon-let-its-drivers-urine-be-sold-as-an-energy-drink/

The Release Energy prank was just one stunt Butler pulled for his doc; he also went undercover at an Amazon warehouse, during a period when Amazon hired an extra 1,000 workers for its warehouses in Coventry, UK, in a successful bid to dilute pro-union sentiment in his workforce in advance of a key union vote:

https://jacobin.com/2023/10/the-great-amazon-heist-oobah-butler-review

Butler's stint as an Amazon warehouse worker only lasted a couple of days, ending when Amazon recognized him and fired him.

The contrast between Amazon's ability to detect an undercover reporter and its inability to spot bottles of piss being marketed as bitter lemon energy drink says it all, really. Corporations like Amazon hire vast armies of "threat intelligence" creeps who LARP at being CIA superspies, subjecting employees and activists to intense and often illegal surveillance.

But while Amazon's defensive might is laser-focused on the threat of labor organizers and documentarians, the company can't figure out that one of its bestselling products is bottles of its tormented drivers' own urine.

In the USA, the FTC is suing Amazon for its monopolistic tactics, arguing that the company has found ways to raise prices and reduce quality by trapping manufacturers and sellers with its logistics operation, taking $0.45-$0.51 out of every dollar they earn and forcing them to raise prices at all retailers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

The Release Energy stunt shows where Amazon's priorities are. Not only did Release Energy get listed on Amazon without any quality checks, the company actually nudged it into a category where it was more likely to be consumed by a person. The only notice the company took of Release Energy was in its logistics and manufacturing department – the part of the business that extracts the monopoly rents at issue in the FTC case – which tracked Butler down in order to sell him these services.

The drivers whose piss Butler collected don't work directly for Amazon, they work for a Delivery Service Partner. These DSPs are victims of a pyramid scheme that Amazon set up. DSP operators lease vans and pay to have them skinned in Amazon livery and studded with Amazon sensors. They take out long-term leases on depots, and hire drivers who dress in Amazon uniforms. Their drivers are minutely monitored by Amazon, down to the movements of their eyeballs.

But none of this is "Amazon" – it's all run by an "entrepreneur," whom Amazon can cut loose without notice, leaving them with unfairly terminated employees, outstanding workers' comp claims, a fleet of Amazon-skinned vehicles and unbreakable facilities leases:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

Speaking to Wired, Amazon denied that it forces its drivers to piss in bottles, but Butler clearly catches a DSP dispatcher telling drivers "If you pee in a bottle and leave it [in the vehicle], you will get a point for that" – that is, the part you get punished for isn't the peeing, it's the leaving.

Amazon's defense against the FTC is that it spares no effort to keep its marketplace safe. As Amazon spokesperson James Drummond says, they use "industry-leading tools to prevent genuinely unsafe products being listed." But the only industry-leading tools in evidence are tools to bust unions and screw suppliers.

In her landmark Yale Law Review paper, "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," FTC Chair Lina Khan makes a brilliant argument that Amazon's alleged benefits to "consumers" are temporary at best, illusory at worst:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

In Butler's documentary, Khan's hypothesis is thoroughly validated: here's a company extracting hundreds of billions from merchants who raise prices to compensate, and those monopoly rents are "invested" in union-busting and countermeasures against investigative journalists, while the tools to keep you from accidentally getting a bottle of piss in the mail are laughably primitive.

Truly, Amazon is the apex predator of the platform era:

https://pluralistic.net/ApexPredator

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[spacelazarwolf]

in honor of that anon who said jews have done nothing for the world, here’s a non exhaustive list of things we’ve done for the world:

arts, fashion, and lifestyle:

jeans - levi strauss

modern bras - ida rosenthal

sewing machines - isaac merritt singer

modern film industry - carl laemmle (universal pictures), adolph zukor (paramount pictures), william fox (fox film forporation), louis b. mayer (mgm - metro-goldwyn-mayer), harry, sam, albert, and jack warners (warner bros.), steven spielberg, mel brooks, marx brothers

operetta - jacques offenbach

comic books - stan lee

graphic novels - will eisner

teddy bears - morris and rose michtom

influential musicians - irving berlin, stephen sondheim, benny goodman, george gershwin, paul simon, itzhak perlman, leonard bernstein, bob dylan, leonard cohen

artists - mark rothko

actors - elizabeth taylor, jerry lewis, barbara streisand

comedians - lenny bruce, joan rivers, jerry seinfeld

authors - judy blume, tony kushner, allen ginsberg, walter mosley

culture:

esperanto - ludwik lazar zamenhof

feminism - betty friedan, gloria steinem, ruth bader ginsberg

queer and trans rights - larry kramer, harvey milk, leslie feinberg, abby stein, kate bornstein, frank kameny, judith butler

international women's day - clara zetkin

principles of journalizm, statue of liberty, and pulitzer prize - joseph pulitzer

"the new colossus" - emma lazarus

universal declaration of human rights - rene samuel cassin

holocaust remembrance and human rights activism - elie wiesel

workers rights - louis brandeis, rose schneiderman

public health care, women's rights, and children's rights - lillian wald

racial equity - rabbi abraham joshua heschel, julius rosenwald, andrew goodman, michael schwerner

political theory - hannah arendt

disability rights - judith heumann

black lives matter slogan and movement - alicia garza

#metoo movement - jodi kantor

institute of sexology - magnus hirschfeld

technology:

word processing computers - evelyn berezin

facebook - mark zuckerberg

console video game system - ralph henry baer

cell phones - amos edward joel jr., martin cooper

3d - leonard lipton

telephone - philipp reis

fax machines - arthur korn

microphone - emile berliner

gramophone - emile berliner

television - boris rosing

barcodes - norman joseph woodland and bernard silver

secret communication system, which is the foundation of the technology used for wifi - hedy lamarr

three laws of robotics - isaac asimov

cybernetics - norbert wiener

helicopters - emile berliner

BASIC (programming language) - john george kemeny

google - sergey mikhaylovich brin and larry page

VCR - jerome lemelson

fax machine - jerome lemelson

telegraph - samuel finley breese morse

morse code - samuel finley breese morse

bulletproof glass - edouard benedictus

electric motor and electroplating - boris semyonovich jacobi

nuclear powered submarine - hyman george rickover

the internet - paul baran

icq instant messenger - arik vardi, yair goldfinger,, sefi vigiser, amnon amir

color photography - leopold godowsky and leopold mannes

world's first computer - herman goldstine

modern computer architecture - john von neumann

bittorrent - bram cohen

voip internet telephony - alon cohen

data archiving - phil katz, eugene roshal, abraham lempel, jacob ziv

nemeth code - abraham nemeth

holography - dennis gabor

laser - theodor maiman

instant photo sharing online - philippe kahn

first automobile - siegfried samuel marcus

electrical maglev road - boris petrovich weinberg

drip irrigation - simcha blass

ballpoint pen and automatic gearbox - laszlo biro

photo booth - anatol marco josepho

medicine:

pacemakers and defibrillators - louise robinovitch

defibrillators - bernard lown

anti-plague and anti-cholera vaccines - vladimir aronovich khavkin

polio vaccine - jonas salk

test for diagnosis of syphilis - august paul von wasserman

test for typhoid fever - ferdinand widal

penicillin - ernst boris chain

pregnancy test - barnhard zondek

antiretroviral drug to treat aids and fight rejection in organ transplants - gertrude elion

discovery of hepatitis c virus - harvey alter

chemotherapy - paul ehrlich

discovery of prions - stanley prusiner

psychoanalysis - sigmund freud

rubber condoms - julius fromm

birth control pill - gregory goodwin pincus

asorbic acid (vitamin c) - tadeusz reichstein

blood groups and rh blood factor - karl landsteiner

acyclovir (treatment for infections caused by herpes virus) - gertrude elion

vitamins - caismir funk

technique for measuring blood insulin levils - rosalyn sussman yalow

antigen for hepatitus - baruch samuel blumberg

a bone fusion technique - gavriil abramovich ilizarov

homeopathy - christian friedrich samuel hahnemann

aspirin - arthur ernst eichengrun

science:

theory of relativity - albert einstein

theory of the electromagnetic field - james maxwell

quantum mechanics - max born, gustav ludwig hertz

quantum theory of gravity - matvei bronstein

microbiology - ferdinand julius cohn

neuropsychology - alexander romanovich luria

counters for x-rays and gamma rays - robert hofstadter

genetic engineering - paul berg

discovery of the antiproton - emilio gino segre

discovery of cosmic microwave background radiation - arno allan penzias

discovery of the accelerating expansion of the universe - adam riess and saul merlmutter

discovery that black hole formation is a robust prediction of the general theory of relativity - roger penrose

discovery of a supermassive compact object at the center of the milky way - andrea ghez

modern cosmology and the big bang theory - alexander alexandrovich friedmann

stainless steel - hans goldschmidt

gas powered vehicles

interferometer - albert abraham michelson

discovery of the source of energy production in stars - hans albrecht bethe

proved poincare conjecture - grigori yakovlevich perelman

biochemistry - otto fritz meyerhof

electron-positron collider - bruno touschek

[regal-bones]

SWORDTEMBER DAY 1: UPGRADE

The Inventors Blade Mk. II, of folded light and gleaming ichor 🌱🩸 “This was long overdue an upgrade.  My personal growth in understanding how Ichor works and interacts with our technology has allowed me to enhance the strength of the sword, essentially tempering the blade. Whereas its predecessor was prone to “glitching” and had a weaker, segmented body, the Mark II is a single unified blade of folded light.  The emitter can now hold multiple charges, allowing for six distinct unsheathings before needing to be refuelled. This revolver system can be reloaded with a vial inserted into the sliding hatch above the active chamber. Empty glass casings will be ejected from the rear of the weapon, which I can hold onto and refill when I get back home. As for the plants, I’m not too sure about how they got here. The more time I spend ■■ ■■■ ■■■■■■, the more linked I feel ■■ ■■■■ ■■■■■. I feel like it knows me - are these plants my own creation? Or something it has given to me as a gift, plucked from my own subconscious? I’m close to understanding how this all works, I know I am. I can feel it in my chest.  For right now, I’m gonna focus on the fact that I have a cool new laser sword, and go test this thing out! (for research purposes, of course) :] ” C:BIO/SPROUT/LOGIN/GREEN_THUMB/MEMOS/“10reasonswhyishouldbuildalasersword_2.doc”/

It begins !!! I am so excited! You guys will see stuff earlier so happy early swordtember :D this sword is from last sprout, an upgrade to an existing sword of mine that you can see here! I hope ur as excited about this month as I am! (also go check out @last-sprout ! A couple of this years swords are gonna be from that universe!)

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!

[didographic]

Fiber laser LIDAR technologies are becoming increasingly important in today’s world for various applications. LIDAR-based mapping and sensing technologies are widespread across multiple industries, from self-driving cars to robotics to drones that are autonomous.

[phaeton-flier]

I get that a lot of people are in support of legalization on this issue, because of arguments like "Owning your body means deciding what happens to it" but I don't think that applies to grievous bodily harm. We cannot set up a system which legalizes stabbing defenseless people and marring their bodies permanently. Consider the following:

Nazis used tattooing to mark prisoners in concentration camps during in the Holocaust. We cannot allow this to repeat, and the eugenicist "art" of tattooing must not be allowed to become common

Tattoos of Swastikas or other Nazi symbols are also often used by Neonazi gangs to indicate allegiance to Fascism

Many people who have gotten tattoos later say they regret them. Removing tattoos is a painful process involving LASERS.

Tattoos are more common among the poor or formerly incarcerated; this clearly shows that tattoo shop owners are preying on the poor.

Sometimes the mentally ill or disabled get tattoos. Can we really trust an industry that preys on the mentally incompetent I mean the disabled? I respect disabled people's autonomy, btw, just not on this decision.

So we can see that legalization of tattoos is a slippery slope to fascism and eugenics, and arguments about "bodily autonomy" do not apply.

[skimmingmilk]

"If it helps, one of the many scenarios my brain likes to twist around is imagining Sonic's perspective of No Cracks In A Closed Loop (and I adore Tails getting to be a badass and pulling off the impossible, too- my brain just likes to spin on the angst sometimes)" - @manynerdthings

A/N: So I was inspired...

I think it's safe to say this helped a lot xD Thank you, manynerdthings!

This is a continuation of my fic "No Cracks in a Closed Loop"

No Cracks in a Closed Loop — Sonic's Side

"Sonic."

That single word—no, just the voice alone—was enough to cut through the adrenaline rush as pure chaos energy sang through his veins and ignited every nerve with its spark. In a flash of light and sound, Super Sonic punched a hole through the Starfall-titan-wanna-be by using his own body as a projectile. A cocky grin cut across his muzzle as it wobbled in place, setting its sights on him instead of the city it had been about to level; its laser cannons aimed directly at the fault line.

This fight wouldn't last twenty seconds. They'd already won.

"What's up, partner?" Sonic said into the comm as he shot skyward.

The streak of gold drew the mech's cannon higher, until it cleared the tips of skyscrapers and nearby mountaintops by the time it shot at him. The laser's heat didn't even singe his fur, firing at full power into the stratosphere instead of drilling deep into the crust of the planet. It zinged past the satellite Tails was communicating from, but Super Sonic's gaze didn't linger on it for more than half a second—already more than certain it was out of the laser's range. Speeding through the air, he whirled around towards the mech for his next move. He was going to cyloop Eggman's newest addition to his junk pile right off its feet. 

Swerving down in a sharp arc, Super Sonic avoided the next blast while he swung around to try and circle it. It's clawed hand swiped at him before he could complete his first circuit. He shot straight up before it could catch him, homing attacking it in the face instead.

The comm was still quiet. Tails must've swapped to their own channel. Super Sonic flew backwards, putting both the titan and the distant satellite in his line of sight. Whatever he had to say, he didn't want anyone else to hear it.

Super Sonic's brow furrowed as a barrage of bullets opened up on him. He weaved between the hundreds of projectiles glinting dangerously in the sunlight, but his chaos energy and speed worked in tandem, as fluidly as a dance, while he searched for another opening to try the cyloop again.

He could beat this thing without it, sure, but it was the fastest way to take it down.

"Tails? Still with me, bud?" Super or not, Sonic still spared a second to check in, static ringing in his ears as he burst through the center of the mech's chest plate for a shortcut.

"I'm here," Tails answered, but his voice sounded faint, like the feedback was drowning him out. "Sorry, I…" Super Sonic started his cyloop. "I just wanted to—" He was halfway around. "I'm sorry—"

Sonic closed the loop. A burst of chaos energy swelled up with a deafening boom. The air rippled with the force of it in great gusts of wind that rocked the trees and the grass of the nearby hills. Waves rose up in the bay, their white caps scraping the bottom of the golden bridge that marked the edge of the sea. The fake titan lifted into the air, sparks crackling off its metal casing as its system overloaded. Super Sonic didn't give it a second to recalibrate itself.

Faster than anyone could see, he smashed into it on all sides. A tiny mote of golden light against the towering behemoth, but it struck every weak point, fried every circuit, as the chaos energy pressed in on it from the outside. Metal crunched and caved it on itself, contorting into a twisted configuration until it no longer resembled a machine.

A cheap imitation of the ancients' attempts to defend themselves, designed only to destroy instead of protect.

Super Sonic grabbed onto mech's arm—or maybe its leg, it was hard to tell at this point—as the cyloop's effect faded, catching it before it crushed Westopolis. He swung it around and around, gritting his teeth as he built up momentum and set his sights on the ocean out ahead of them. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

Super Sonic let go.

The mech's remains were flung through the air, over the coastline and beyond the bridge that cut off the bay from the sea. It crashed into the water, the ocean spray shooting up into the air in a tower of mist once it hit the surface. The waves rolled aggressively towards the coastline, but ultimately broke apart in the bay before they could do too much damage. Some millionaires might have to replace a yacht or two, but that wasn't Sonic's problem.

As he dusted his hands off, he could finally acknowledge the warning bells Tails's last words to him had set off. "Hey, what was that, bud? I didn't catch—"

Super Sonic turned towards the satellite, addressing it like he would Tails, but it was gone. Instead a cloud of smoke filled the space where the satellite had been not ten seconds ago. Metal shards and fire rained upon the bay. Everything in pieces. Everything gone.

His comm was in chaos. Unintelligible voices shouted over one another in a cacophony of white noise that was already fighting a losing battle to the ringing in his ears. But he still noticed one voice was missing. He couldn't hear it.

He hadn't heard any of it.

Over the sonic boom of his cyloop and the screeching of metal as he demolished the titan, Sonic hadn't heard the satellite explode.

The satellite his little brother was on.

He'd been trying to tell him something.

He'd been trying to tell him something before a satellite exploded with him on it.

"I'm sorry."

Tails. 

Super Sonic shot off like a bullet, speeding towards the black cloud of smoke and smoldering debris like there was even a chance—

No. There had to be a chance—

"I just wanted to—I'm sorry—"

Why? What happened? What did you do, Tails?

He hadn't even properly seen him off before he left. Tails had been trying to hack into Eggman's satellite remotely while Sonic was out chasing after the faux titans. He told them all about his plan to board the satellite and everyone agreed it sounded like the right call, so long as he could do it quickly. They needed to disrupt the signal, after all, and Tails was their best shot.

That was what he'd said, wasn't it? "You're our best shot, Tails. I believe in you, partner."

Their best shot, but not the only one. Not if it meant this.

Nothing was worth this.

Sonic didn't need to breathe while super, but his lungs still burned twin holes in his chest as his own nervous system caught fire. Golden sparks flicked off his quills as he raced through the air. Fiery eyes frantically scanned each scrap of metal that fell, but they must've already been irritated from the smoke because they burned and blurred with the rest of the world around him—

"—onic, wait! Come back! Sonic!"

One voice.

Super Sonic stopped. He stopped so fast and so suddenly, it felt like his own soul completely missed the memo. Like everything inside him continued to hightails it towards where Tails had been without him, leaving him empty. Hollow. Cold.

A vacuous space in the center of himself where there'd once been something. 

The chaos energy inside him didn't know what to do with that.

With so much… nothing.

Stunned, he could only float in place for a stupid second until he remembered he'd stopped for a reason. With a sharp turn, his stare locked onto a splash of orange amidst the blotchy colors of the rest of the world bleeding into one another. Like he was still moving too fast to see clearly. Like he couldn't catch up to himself.

"Sonic…" Tails's voice broke like it had on the comm, but it wasn't with pain guilt fear regret static.

Vision clearing, Sonic could see him now. At the edge of one of the hills overlooking Westopolis and the bay. Tails just rubbed at his nose with a sheepish sort of grin, like the explosion was a minor miscalculation. A hiccup. My bad, he could hear him saying, like he was standing in the middle of his workshop, covered in soot and singed fur, one hand on his hip and a fire extinguisher at his feet.

Like he was fine.

Like he hadn't been incinerated in the fiery inferno smoldering above them.

Tails lowered his hand, eyes shining as they looked up at him, reflecting the very sky Super Sonic was caught in as the satellite's remains fell all around him. He'd been on that satellite. Just seconds ago, Sonic had been so sure of it.

He'd been so sure he'd lost him…

Then Tails opened his arms to him and laughed.

All at once Sonic crashed back into himself, chest heaving with a sharp inhale as his heart lurched forward. 

Faster than a blink, Super Sonic barrelled into Tails and sent them toppling down the hillside. They smacked hard against the ground, but Sonic took the brunt of the fall even with the world spinning around them. His arms encircled Tails tightly, one hand protecting the back of his head while the other braced the small of his back as they tumbled and whooped like a pair of idiots. Pure joy radiated through him, burning brighter than the chaos energy coursing through his quills. It knocked the emeralds right out of him. The seven gems fell into the grass around them as the two mobians eventually rolled to a stop.

Sonic clutched Tails to him, shaking with breathless laughter as he felt his little brother hug him back just as tightly. "I'm here," Tails was saying, and it took a minute to realize he'd been repeating the words while Sonic's hands were trembling. "I'm here. It's okay, big bro. I'm here. I’m here."

"And you say I'm the one that's gonna give you a heart attack," Sonic wheezed, not bothering to give himself room to breathe if it meant letting go for even a second.

"Can't let you have all the fun." Tails smoothed his hands over Sonic's spines to try and settle him, his touch purposeful and grounding. "Deep breaths, big bro. You're gonna pass out."

"Nuh-uh," he argued, but filled his lungs with his next inhale anyway, then let all the air ease out of him.

"That's it. There ya go," Tails encouraged, but Sonic couldn't help his snort of indignation at being coddled and pushed away from him. 

Except Tails just tightened his grip; fingers curling in his fur like they'd be forced apart if he didn't. He hid his face in the crook of Sonic's neck, his breaths coming only a little too fast. But his hands were shaking, too, and his twin tails wound around them both as if they were enough to protect them from the next threat. 

Sonic didn't pull away. He just sat back, the eleven-year-old practically in his lap, and rested his hand atop Tails's head.

"Gave me a real scare there, pal," he said, voice low and gentle as he smoothed out his fur, picking at the grass and brambles they were both covered in.

"…Scared me, too."

Sonic's heart clenched, the open admission like a bludgeon to his protective instincts, even if his pride assured him Tails could handle it. After all, the proof had all but climbed into his lap. But now that he was looking at him—really looking at him—he could see his fur was mussed up from more than just a tumble at supersonic speed. A streak of blood stained his fur on his shoulder and there was a lump near the center of his back that filled Sonic with an angry fire hot enough to burn through the atmosphere when he so much as brushed against it with his fingers. 

Tails didn't flinch when he grazed it, but his muscles gave an involuntary spasm that rippled beneath his fur and his hold on Sonic tightened. It was enough to quell the roiling rage to a simmer. Something he could stick a lid on without worrying it would boil over if left unchecked. It wasn't what Tails needed from him right now.

But Sonic still wanted some answers.

"What happened up there?" he asked. 

Tails shook his head. "Just a bit of a closer call than I thought it'd be. But I'll be okay. I am okay."

Sonic instinctively bristled, prepared to be shut out of whatever it was he'd gone through. "Tails—"

"I'll tell you someday," he promised, pressing his paw over Sonic's heart. "I mean it. But right now we've got a lot of Eggman's mess to clean up. There's still six other titans out there and I'm sure everyone else is worried."

Sonic sighed, as exasperated as he could manage when he was still just glad this kid was alive. "Gonna hold you to that," he threatened, ruffling his fur to muss it up on purpose. "You owe me. Nearly shocked the Chaos Emeralds right outta my system."

"Says Mr. Guy-Who-Loves-Adventure," Tails teased as he pushed himself up to stand. "You should be used to it by now."

Sonic snorted when he was offered a hand up, but he took it nonetheless. "When I go gray early, I'll know exactly who to blame."

"Don't worry. I'll help you dye your quills, old man," Tails snickered, but it broke off with a wince as a sharp twinge ran through his back.

Sonic was quick to lay a supportive hand at his hip to steady him. "Look who's talking. At this rate, you're gonna be right there with me setting the record for the world's youngest old timers."

Tails sent him a look, but accepted the help nonetheless as he leaned his weight against him. "Did you really have to knock us all the way down the hill like that?"

"Heh. Well, in my defense, wasn't exactly thinking straight." Sonic scratched at his nose, giving him a not-so-subtle onceover. "Didn't bang ya up too bad, did I?"

"Nah. I'll bounce back," Tails assured him, giving him a pat on the back.

"You always do," Sonic agreed warmly as they took a few steps in tandem so they could start collecting the Chaos Emeralds on their way back up the hill while Tails alerted everyone to their status on his comm and checked in on everyone else as well.

Sonic just listened, taking in the rise and fall of his voice, his steady assurances and sighs of relief to hear that the world hadn't fallen apart in his absence. Even if it very nearly did. As far as Sonic was concerned, anyway.

But he was okay now. That was what mattered. And whatever it was that happened on that satellite—whatever reason Tails had for calling him seconds before disaster—he would trust that his little brother would come to him when he was ready. Because he'd be there for him. No matter what.

Keeping his arm looped around Tails’s waist even after they made it back up the hill, Sonic looked up at the smoke still fading from the sky. He tightened his hold on him. It felt like another lifetime, like another him had first seen the explosion and feared the worst. Tails followed his gaze, quiet again with all the calls taken care of and winded from the uphill climb. Through his labored breaths, there was the slightest tremor that traveled from his chest to where he stood pressed against his brother.

"…Scared me, too."

 "Hey, whatever happened up there," Sonic broke the silence, his voice drawing Tails back down beside him. "Whatever you did, I'll bet it was seriously way past cool." He glanced over at him, waiting to catch his eye before giving him a wink.

All too easily, Tails grinned up at him, the shape of his smile the spitting image of his brother's. "Way past is definitely one way to put it."

———

Five years later…

———

"You've been quiet all day, partner. Something going on in that big brain of yours?"

Everyone else had split off for the night. Team Dark vanished sometime after lunch, after Rouge once again tricked Shadow into accompanying her, and Team Chaotix had an appointment for their next case. Amy took Cream back home to Vanilla while Tangle and Whisper left to help Jewel out with some Restoration business.

Which left just Sonic and Tails lounging on the couch; the former picking up where Vector had left off in the game he'd been playing, tapping away at the controller while the latter watched.

Tails hummed in acknowledgement, so Sonic let him have a minute of quiet to collect his thoughts. He picked at one of Whisper's cinnamon muffins, crumbs scattering across the coffee table, but he didn't eat any of it. He hadn't had much of an appetite since slinking out of his lab earlier that afternoon.

It probably had something to do with the quiet and the way he'd been kinda clingy. Sonic had planned on going for a run as soon as Tails retreated back to his lab to tinker with whatever gadgets he had tucked away back there, but he seemed pretty content to stay curled up on the couch beside him. Still, Sonic could adapt. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and slumped back into the cushions as he wandered aimlessly around in a game he couldn't remember owning.

"Do you remember that time you went up against Eggman's seven fake titans?"

Sonic let out a low whistle. "Boy, is that a blast from the past. What about it?" 

When Tails didn't immediately continue, Sonic pressed the pause button, then shifted against the cushion to sit up and face his not-so-little-anymore bro. The sixteen-year-old fox tore his gaze from the screen to watch him instead, eyes bright from television's glow. Looking at him like that, for a split second, Sonic could still see the insecure, little fox kit he used to be in the way his shoulders hunched up as if to make himself smaller. To take up less space in the world.

Sonic draped one arm along the back of the couch, leaving space for him to lean into if he wanted it. No matter how big he got, there'd always be space for him.

Tails scooted closer and rested his head against Sonic's arm. "I needed to disrupt the satellite signal powering the Chaos Emerald vaults, but Eggman locked me out of the remote connection so I had to access it directly—"

"On the actual satellite," Sonic interjected, fingers drumming against the back of the couch. "I remember."

Tails released a long exhale. "Well, he set a trap. A way to slow me down so I wouldn't be able to unlock the emeralds for you in time. The same code that would disrupt the satellite's signal would also cause it to self-destruct. Eggman banked on me having enough self-preservation that I wouldn't engage it without trying to disable that function first."

"But you set it off anyway."

"I set it off anyway," Tails confirmed with a decisive nod. "It was the outcome with the highest percentage of saving people. The fastest way to help you guys. I thought I could get out in time. I should've gotten out in time," his voice lowered, eyes distant as if he was reliving the moment right there on their couch. "But I couldn't. Not on my own. I needed… help."

Sonic tried to follow him there, even if he didn't much like to relive that day in his waking hours. "So you called me."

"Not… exactly." Tails sat up straighter so he could look him in the eye. "I knew you'd come get me if I asked, but then countless lives would've been lost if the titans had gone on unchecked, even if just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes that's all it takes…" Tails's fist clenched as he dropped his hardened gaze to his lap. "I made the call to initiate the self-destruct in order to save people. I couldn't take that back. I couldn't take you away from them. Not again."

A younger Sonic would've snapped at him—would've argued over the value of his life with him until he wasn't the only one blue in the face. But at twenty-three, Sonic had fought more of these battles than he cared to count and never once walked away a winner. So he sat back, held his tongue, and let Tails explain himself.

"I called you to say goodbye," his voice lowered to a whisper, "I wanted to give you that, at least.”

He'd had a feeling. It wasn't one he dwelled on freely, but sometimes the thought wandered in uninvited. Moreso during the first couple of months after the incident, when everything was still fresh and closer to their present.

Before Sonic could respond, Tails pressed forward. "But then an older version of myself traveled through time with two Chaos Emeralds to save me. He said it was the only way. Because at the time, only the two of us knew what transpired on the satellite. We created a temporal paradox, a loop without a proper origin, but as long as it was contained between the two versions of me, nothing could disrupt it. That's why I couldn't tell you before. I wasn't sure… I didn't know if the future version of myself had told you what happened and if that would open up possibilities in the time stream that would botch the encounter entirely." Tails lifted his gaze to seek out Sonic's again, and he could see the eleven-year-old sitting in front of him like it was that very same day. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

"Nothing to apologize for, bud. I get it. I wouldn't want to mess up the time stream for that particular moment either." Sonic shifted the arm draped along the couch so he could cup the back of Tails's head, idly ruffling the fur there. "But if you're telling me all this now…" he drawled, moving to scritch behind Tails's ear. "Charmy wasn't the one who swiped Shadow's Chaos Emerald earlier, was he?"

Tails shrugged, muzzle quirking up on one side. "When he showed up with it today, I just had this feeling that it was time to make my move…" Tails explained. "I've been feeling it for a couple weeks now, to be honest. I had all the equipment I'd had on me that day and I looked close enough to how I remembered. I knew I probably had to go back soon. Just needed everything to align so no one would interfere. Today seemed good…"

Sonic tilted his head as Tails trailed off, his eyes still a little distant. "Well, you made it back in one piece, didn't you? Mission accomplished."

"Yeah. Mission accomplished," he echoed, but whatever was on his mind continued to fester. "I thought I made a mistake."

"Hm?"

"There were only three seconds left," Tails whispered. "I thought I messed it all up. I thought I killed us both—"

"You—"

"I was so sure it would work because it already had, but there was still the possibility I could've gotten it wrong. I could've caused a split in our realities. Created two timelines where I ceased to exist, except in this one no one would've known what happened to me and two of the Chaos Emeralds would be lost to time. How would any of you have known where to look?" Tails rambled, pressing his hands over his face. "I estimated the time of day with a standard deviation of a couple of seconds, but those seconds could've been what killed us—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Sonic hushed, shifting to wrap both arms around his little brother as he slumped against him. "You didn't. You're here. You're right here with me, see?" He gave him a firm squeeze, smile tugging at his muzzle as Tails hugged him back tightly. "Atta boy."

"Stupid…" he mumbled into Sonic's shoulder. "Why does this still work so well?"

"Heh. What're big brothers for?" Sonic huffed out a chuckle. "Listen, you can't live a life of what-ifs, bud. It'll drive you outta your mind. I should know. And I know you know that, too." He felt Tails's nod against his cheek. "You did exactly what you set out to do. And heck, you used the Chaos Emeralds to travel through time! When did you learn how to do that, huh? Holding out on your big bro?"

Tails snorted, but it got him to relax enough to pull back. "Figured if I could use Chaos Control, time travel was just an added boost. Like adding a supercharger to the Tornado's engine."

"Tch. You figured." Sonic rolled his eyes, but the warmth in them was nothing but fond. "Give yourself a little more credit. You did something incredible today, Tails. You defied time and space to save yourself. And not only that, you gave yourself a future to look forward to. Because who wouldn't want to turn out to be like you?"

It was Tails's turn to roll his eyes, though it was his own chuckle that betrayed him. "That's what I told me."

"And wiser words were never spoken," Sonic assured him as he gave his knee a firm pat.

"I dunno. Could make a case for the consequences of rewriting timelines and creating unsustainable permutations of past and future events." Tails grinned.

"Now you’re just being smart," Sonic snorted.

"Well, I am a genius." Tails bumped his shoulder to Sonics. "But I also learned from the best. Even eleven-year-old me picked up on that."

"Well, he's a genius, too. He knows what's up." Sonic slung his arm around Tails’s shoulder, this time his turn to watch as his brother picked up the video game controller to continue where Sonic left off. 

He let him, taking his turn to be content as he watched Tails figure out the game faster than he did and go farther than Sonic could. They said nothing for a few minutes, Tails working out the rest of his pent up feelings through the game while Sonic quietly processed what he'd just been told. He wasn't a stranger to time travel, not by a long shot, but even so, it wasn't what he thought the answer to that day had been. As much faith he had in his best friend, his self-sacrificial tendencies were something he couldn't help but take notice of. After all, he'd learned from the best, hadn't he?

But it wasn't with bitterness or disdain when he set his gaze on the teen beside him. That wasn't possible; not when he saw every age at once. Not when he was in absolute awe of how far his kid had come. 

"Tails."

"Sonic," Tails answered instinctively, matching his tone with the hint of a crooked smile.

"Thanks for saving him."

Tails blinked and paused the game so he could look at Sonic. In the light from the television screen, green eyes glimmered with a depth that took him back to a younger version of his big bro, who was trying to do everything in his power to be there for him. Because he wanted to be. Because he needed to be.

One tail curled around Sonic's back and draped over his lap, giving back the same reassurance he always gave so freely.

"Anytime, big bro."

[wttcsms]

and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign, satoru gojo

with hands blessed with the technique that enables you to feel the most likely future for the person you're touching, it's easy to see why you don't want to touch satoru when he comes back. even if he doesn't know his own ending, all he knows is that he would like to feel your touch even if it's for the last time. so you let him. (wc 1k) content contains satoru gojo x reader, slight angst, allusions to jjk 261 leak, some fluff, possible hurt/(no) comfort (depending on how you look at it), humanizing gojo

“You’re worried about me,” he rolls over in bed, bluer-than-blue eyes staring into yours. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, I’m not. This is my ‘you’re hogging all the blankets’ face.” You retort, yanking the bedsheets closer to you. You try to make yourself more comfortable, but it’s no use — you only sleep well when you’re snuggled up by Satoru’s side, but the idea of touching him, the effects of what will happen when you do, serves as a good enough deterrent. 

“No. It’s your ‘I suck at keeping a secret’ face.” 

“Well, that face and my ‘worried about you’ face are two entirely different expressions. So, even if you’re right, you’re still wrong.” 

Usually, he would laugh at your logic. Nowadays, there’s not much laughter to spare. Just intense gazes that cut you to the bone, deep enough to leave a mark on your soul, yet soft enough for you to momentarily forget the pain that comes with it. You like to make comments about his eyes; not his Six Eyes, but his. The ones that are uniquely and wholly his own. You want to drown into his eyes, the prettiest, rarest shade of blue that only he could pull off. You know he knows that you think this, which is precisely why you have no issue with telling him he needs to get brown contacts for bedtime because his irises practically glow in the dark. 

Our bodies are built by memories. It’s why your fingers twitch, confused as to why Satoru is so close to you, close enough to touch, and yet, there’s still a distance between you two. Your hands know him well — know him the best of all. Your fingers, the ones that have ran through his hair so many times before, may share the same color as many other members of his clan but the stubbornness of his hair is all his own. You would tease him; tell him that his hair is just like him: annoying, with its own mind, its own will. His hair is coarser than it looks, and sometimes, you can still feel remnants of hardened hair gel when he gets too tired to wash it all off properly. (On those nights, you’ll wash it off for him.)

The sharpness of his cheekbones have been traced by the tips of your fingers. Gaunt when he’s so laser focused on work, but full when he’s shoveling food into his mouth. You like the sight of Satoru gorging himself on daifuku; so rarely does he give into greed, and there’s a boyish glow to him when he’s unable to speak because of the sheer amount of mochi he has in his mouth, looking annoyingly cute with his chipmunk cheeks. 

“You don’t want to touch me because you’re scared.” Of course, Satoru doesn’t shy away from confrontation. You suppose it’s for the best. The fact that he let you go this long without him calling you out on your behavior isn’t surprising, though. He always puts the feelings of others before his own. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

Satoru doesn’t need the Six Eyes to see through you. He just needs to use his own. 

“Did you really think it wasn’t?” is what he says.

“I just— Knowing the future is worse than the not-knowing.” Your voice cracks during the explanation, but he doesn’t comment yet. He waits patiently for you to continue, even though you already had this breakdown in front of him before, a lifetime ago. When the two of you were just students and he sneakily pulled off your gloves and placed his hand around yours. Back then, his touch had been brimming with life. It had shocked your system, your soul. Every touch exchanged from him since then had felt the same, more or less.

You’re worried that you won’t get that familiar feeling this time around. 

“Because not-knowing leaves space for hoping.” He finishes for you. You blink, and suddenly he’s closer, and you want to cry. You want him to be this close to you forever, and you know that that is one future path that not even the strings of fate will entertain. 

“I’m worried about you.” You whisper out this confession, and Satoru’s lips part. He looks like he’s about to joke around, to say “aha! I knew it!”, but he doesn’t. There’s a defeated sort of air to him when he tells you,

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Satoru Gojo, after all.” The smile he gives you is a good imitation of his genuine one, but you can see through him just as easily as he does you. 

“I can’t worry about Satoru Gojo?” 

“You would waste time and precious tears over the strongest?”

It’s true that his strength is a big part of him, but it’s not his entire being. People chase after the reason for their existence all the time, while Satoru’s been told his entire life that being blessed with his strength is the sole cause for his existence. Satoru knows what his designated purpose is; no one’s ever given him any room for doubt or an opportunity to pursue another path. He could argue that the not-knowing your purpose in life is a whole lot more fun than actually knowing. 

“Who’s going to keep that daifuku shop in Osaka open if you’re gone?” And it’s such an unserious statement to make, a statement that has reduced you to a wet puddle of tears, but it’s genuine. 

You don’t care about the strongest dying.

You care about him dying.

With the same disregard for your personal space he had back in high school, Satoru takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You’re crying, and you can register the warmth of his physical body, but there’s a foreignness in his touch that you don’t recognize, a touch that your hand engraved with memories of him can’t quite seem to remember. It scares you, because you’ve never felt this before. You’re gripping his hand even tighter, as if trying to force his familiar presence to steady you, but there’s no use.

When you touch Satoru, you cannot feel his future. You can’t feel him.

[weskie]

Stress Relief [And Love] (Albert Wesker x f!Reader)

18+ | ambiguous anatomy reader, femme terminology reader [masc terms here], smut, light degradation, aftercare | Fic Directory

Your face presses into the glass, breath fogging it to obscure the delicate, world-changing organisms inside.

He’d come to see you again.  A checkup on your progress, he’d said– his usual excuse.

Most often, he came down here for you.  You, his prized possession and the apple of his eye, were the real treasure within the cramped laboratory.  Though the flowers you’d raised and spliced were the fuel powering his dream, he’d long since told you how ridiculous he found the field of botany.  Beyond his tastes and especially his interests.  But he was interested in you.

He needed you.

More than you knew, actually. For the longest time, you thought it odd that his visits kept growing in frequency– that is, until the first day he’d stripped a glove from his hand and caressed your cheek with his fingertips, eyes shining brighter beneath those signature dark shades of his.  You’d never really considered your feelings for him prior– attractive as he is– but you practically turned to jell-o that day.

“My little flower girl.” He murmured, tilting your chin up for the softest, sweetest kiss you’d ever had.  Just like that, you were his.

Just like you are now.  

He drives into you from behind, hips snapping sharp and fast.  A long day, he’d told you.  Albert Wesker was typically a generous lover.  Exceptional dates, thoughtful gifts, and a laser-like focus on ensuring your comfort and happiness– but especially your pleasure.

Today he takes for himself, and you’re all too happy to oblige.

He’s got your lower half stripped bare, perfect for him to take in the sight and tease you as he pleases.  Nails biting at your hips, a palm striking your ass, fingers slinking around your waist to tease you mercilessly.  His hands are everywhere all at once, clouding your mind, and his face is buried in the curve of your neck where he kisses and nips and bites to his heart’s content.

“Look at you,” he growls.  “Your legs are quaking.  Pathetic.”

You mewl for him, nodding.  You’re almost positive his iron grip around your waist is the only thing keeping you from hitting the floor.  He takes a step closer, pinning his body to yours and pushing you further against the warmth of the flower tank.

Wesker grinds into you while a hand snakes up to grip in your hair, tugging your head back just enough for his lips to meet your ear. “My sweet little flower girl,” he coos, hips pushing circles against you.  You nod.

You are his.

He uses you for at least an hour, coming deep inside of you, eating you clean, pushing you to your knees to get him ready once more, then fucking you all over again.  By the time his seemingly awful day is worked out of his system, you’re a worn out mess on legs far too wobbly to stand.

Which is how you end up in his arms, engulfed in a warm bubble bath.  You had no idea that he lived in the facility, let alone had such an extravagant bathroom.  It makes you envious for all the times you ever had to rinse off in the cramped little emergency shower in the lab after an unfortunate specimen exposure.

He’s so gentle with you, even going as far as to nudge your head back to rest against his chest when you try to fuss over him.

“Allow me to at least be a gentleman now,” Wesker murmurs as he moves a washcloth in circles over your bite mark ridden shoulders.  He’d traced every bruise and mark he left on your body with featherlight touches, each stutter a silent apology and declaration of his own disdain for how he’d handled you.  It was endearing to know how much he truly cared under that cold exterior he always seemed to have.

You give him a gentle, humming laugh.  There was no doubt in your mind that he’d take care of you afterward.  He always did.

“Rest, my dear.”  He coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Not that you were trying to fight it, but you did like to drag out your moments together.  “I’ll be here when you wake.”

And that’s exactly why…

“D’you promise?”  

Wesker was always on the go, always busy, always something to take care of that left you waiting and missing him terribly.  Such a statement was incredibly uncommon.

“I promise,” he says, smile audible in his voice.

Your eyes flutter shut, mind at ease knowing he’ll be the first thing you see when you wake.

[jinxedmuse]

best friend - lee sohee, 이소희

in which: your best friend sohee offers a "no strings attached" relief from the stress of your relationship but finds himself falling in too deep.

an: don't know if you guys have listened to sohee's playlist but he has a lot of romantic songs on there, mainly best friends to lovers centric or heartbroken ones and it made me want him even more..

warnings: cheating, accidental overstimulation, rough sub!sohee, multiple orgasms, lots of whining and begging from sohee, lowk manipulative, degradation, pet names, oral, sohee is older than reader by like 4 months, reader's bf is eunseok...

playlist: sex eden, get up newjeans, like you do joji, to. ex taeyeon, i feel it coming wknd

wc: 2.1k... been going feral over sohee the last couple of days, had to get it out my system, consider this my comeback?

movie nights at your place on friday were a mandatory tradition you've had with your best friend, lee sohee for over five years.

this year, due to a recent (almost a year) addition to your life (a boyfriend) the sense of freedom that came with this night significantly decreased. what was supposed to be a night to catch up with your best friend, free of stress from external sources had turned into check-ins with your boyfriend every hour or so and an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and sohee, physically as well.

this wasn't necessarily because your boyfriend saw sohee as a threat, i mean, he looked like a mini duck you win at a fair or something. sohee is shy but humorous, mischievous but respectful. yet your boyfriend always felt like something was (in his words) "off" about how sohee always stuck at your side sometimes s little too literally and close for comfort.

you dismissed it, insisting your close relationship had stemmed from a bond built off being relentlessly teased together since high school. that, "sohee isn't like that. we're just best friends is all. trust me" you'd say, fully believing yourself as well, because how could your relationship ever change after 5 years?

easy.

you were currently sending your boyfriend his 3rd "update" within the past hour. you hear a loud sigh coming from sohee's side of the couch. you finish sending your text before looking up.

"i know, i know. sorry, you know how he is, just overprotective is all" you say in defense, already knowing what your best friend was about to complain about.

sohee doesn't face you, instead, laser-focused on the movie you both were barely even watching. trying to ignore the heavy change in dynamic ever since you got into a relationship.

"i know" he starts whining, twisting the hem of the throw cover that was over his lower half, a heavy feeling in his heart. "it's just that we hardly get to hang out together as it is, and when we do you're glued to your phone."

you weighed on his words while looking at him. his voice was soft and shaky but showed no signs of tears in his eyes. his beauty marks scattered all around his face, some trailing in his collarbones and ears. fueled by a sudden pang of guilt you toss your phone onto the table in front of you and crawl over to shoes side of the couch. earning a sly smile from the smaller-framed boy.

"this close? how scandalous" he jokes, opening up the throw cover so you can get underneath it with him. safe distance, of course. you sling an arm around him immediately earning a groaned laugh as he tries to push you off. you tussle his hair until his grip gurns into more of a pained restrict with one hand and he lands you onto your back.

sohee is now on top of you, both his legs at each of your sides, his necklace, part of the set the two of you had although you haven't been wearing yours recently hanging in front of your face. his oversized shirt that was a little too big for him leaving a gap between the collar and his neck, chest slightly exposes.

you were too engulfed in his scent, clean laundry, one you've always found comforting, to realize he was full-on staring at your lips. a hard-on slowly forming and straining against his cargo pants.

"why do you keep forgetting i'm older than you, huh?" he teases. the truth is sohee is older than you by 4 months. however, when you first met (since you were already in the same grade) you were so adamant about dropping honorifics. insisting that technically you were "same-age friends."

once you realize he's staring at your lips your mouth goes dry, and you push out a forced laugh. trying to ignore the heat coming from between your legs, suddenly realizing how heavy he feels on top of you. You couldn't bring yourself to push sohee off despite how wrong it was. this was still innocent, right?

"i didn't forget," you say, your own eyes now stuck on his pink lips "i just don't care." you tease back, trying to overturn the situation but his grip remains steady, not letting you get up. just feeble squirms now and then.

“do you not see me as a man?” he asked, it was practically a whimper the way it came out so whiny. you giggle at this, not taking the boy on top of you seriously.

he tilts his head, sizing you up and down. eyes stopping right at your boobs, your nipples hard and visible through your thin shirt. he shifts his weight so that now he's sitting directly on top of you. his bulge that was now rock hard right over your heat. "don't you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asked innocently.

you feel like a spell had been cast on you, his slight pressure on your cunt caused it to flex around nothing, aching to be touched but you couldn't do that to your boyfriend. you shake your head in disagreement. "what do you mean sohee, and why are you still on me idiot" you ask jokingly, trying to lighten the tension in the room now. the movie was long forgotten.

"oh cmon' he starts again, "don't you ever get bored of" he gets interrupted by your phone ringing, a special tone you had set for only your boyfriend. it was starting to piss sohee off.

why was his precious time with you always getting interrupted by your insolent waste of a boyfriend? "of that" he grunted out, dipping so that his member was now grinding down on you. you hold back your moans, throwing your head back. ashamed at the amount of pleasure you felt.

this isn't right, you tried to reason with yourself. you have a boyfriend, sohee is your best friend, but fuck, does it feel good the way he was messily rutting himself against you. dry humpin' you.

"sohee." you managed to choke out through moans "this isn't right" you object, fighting your hands from going up and pulling him closer to you.

"it's not cheating if you don't do anything back, just let me make you feel good please, huh princess? don't you remember how good i was? don't you want to know how much i improved" he asks, leaving slopping kisses down your neck, his slim hands roaming all over your body, tugging at your clothes.

he was currently referring to back what happened on a hot summer day during freshmen year up in your old tree house that barely fit the growing bodies of two best friends. you can still remember how hot it was, sweat sticking to your bodies before you had even started anything.

your frames uncomfortable in the one-size-too-small tree house, it was awkward, but it felt so sexy back then, and yet as soon as he was done, the reality of what you had done hit you and you couldn't look at each other for a week once school started.

once you got over it, you vowed to never do something as reckless to your friendship as that again.

2 years later during senior year, you fucked. you were each other's first, and you both wanted to "get it out the way" as college was right at your doorsteps. the nerve-wracking idea of losing it to some stranger didn't make sense, right? i mean what better way to lose it than in the back of your first car, during the first snow of winter, with your best friend, for your first time?

you had both pushed it aside. vowing it was just to not be behind your college peers and to never speak of it again. not wanting to add to the statics of why "men and women can't be friends", whatever that meant. sohee entered and left a few relationships after that. always breaking them off because he got bored after a certain point. he was single right now, opposite to you who was in a relationship.

this was wrong. every fiber of your being knew it was wrong but it was the first time you and sohee were alone together in a while. His eyes were full of lust, everything about him currently oozed sex appeal and you wanted him badly. there was no denying that with the way your cunt kept clamming around nothing, begging for attention.

sohee takes one of his hands and brings it down to your cunt, the heat he feels coming from it is almost instant. "look at you, acting like you don’t want it but you’re so fucking turned on right now" he says as he rubs his hand onto your clothed cunt.

you bite your lip, holding back a moan at his vulgar words. "it's a normal bodily reaction if you’re practically humping me, i have a boyfriend." you beg, eyes leading yet your body betraying you every time he gently rubs your pussy.

"who do love more?" he asks getting closer, “my boyfriend" you pathetically strain out at a last attempt to redeem yourself for doing this. he licks your ear lov slowly, biting the too which earns a moan from you before trailing back down to your neck with small wet pecks. his hand was still on your cunt and you were now grinding onto it.

"who makes you feel better huh? me?" he asks when he gets to your breast, he removes his hand from your cunt earning a desperate mewl from you, immediately missing his touch on you.

"look at you, rutting your desperate little pussy to get some relief from your best friend, but you expect me to believe you love your boyfriend? huh, whore?" he growls in between sloppy kisses and sucks to your nipple, twisting them every time you shook your head to try and tried to deny his (very true) allegations.

he watches as your back arches from the sofa a bit, his aching cock begging to be freed but he isn't satisfied yet. he takes the other hand that was holding both of yours up and brings it down to your cunt, slipping into your extremely short shorts and going over your delicate panties

you were already wet, his fingers slipping against your puffy lips way too easily. “look at you~~~~" he says in a mocking tone, "all wet for me, baby? beg and i’ll make you feel good" he taunts unto your ear. you nod your head immediately "please sohee, f-fuck i need you to touch me"

"i’m sorry slut, what was that?"

you chase his fingers, eyes teary at his teasing "please, hee fuck me" you cry in desperation, nails digging into his shirt, pulling him closer.

at this point, you were too horny to care about how desperate you seemed, becoming an incoherent mess full of whining and begging.

sohee falls completely apart, drooling at your blubbering mess, he likes two of his slim digits, pointer, and middle finger, and thrust them into your throbbing cunt, curling them slightly,

your back arches almost completely off the couch, both your hands gripping his forearms in pure bliss, eyes shut in concentration on how good it all feels.

his slim digits entering and exiting you with such precision and a bit of roughness, curling up in all the right spots had you panting excessively, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead.

the faster and harsher he went, occasionally bringing his yup to play with your budded clit, you clam harder around him. suffocating his fingers, they dragged out of you in a way that made you see stars when you were dizzy.

"fuck-fuck, hee i think, nghnnn, i'm about to, fuck, come" you wring it, spit at the side of your mouth from it being slack open as you moaned underneath him, chest heaving up and down

your pathetic state doesn't take away from sohee's own though; he's as much of a whining, moaning mess as you are. his head all foggy from how pretty you looked underneath him, sweat coating your soft skin as your puffy lips were wrapped around his fingers. his member was practically budging out of his pants, beads forming on his forehead in concentration but last minute he got an idea.

he pulls out his fingers with a swiftness that makes you practically cry. your eyes snap open, a pout as you look at him. confused at this sudden action. "let me stuff myself inside you and then taste your cum, huh? what do you think about that princess~~" he asks in his usual teasing voice. moments like this when he was giving you brain fog you remembered he was your best friend.

but that didn't matter right now, you needed to be fucked dumb. so you just nod your head like a pathetic bitch in heat and he smiles, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers.

his dick is now free and you almost faint at the sight. he was clean-shaven, with balls the perfect size for you to cup in your hand. he wasn't huge or even too thick but he was long, long, and veiny, his dick was a light hue of pink while his tip was beaming red. streams of pre cum endlessly flowing out. you moaned at the sight, looking at it with begging eyes.

he's satisfied with your reaction, knowing you hadn't seen it since that night two years ago during senior year in the back seat of your car. he suddenly felt like he was on top of the world, an ego boost surging through him as he watched how you looked at his member longingly.

he gives his dick a few pumps over your cunt, his cum leaking onto you, "you want me to stuff you baby? all bare while you have a man waiting for your call?"

his questions bring heat to your cheeks, God you were such an asshole for this but you needed sohee so desperately you felt like you were going to cry if you didn't have him inside you. you watch the way his cum leaks into you as he's pumping himself above you and you find yourself subconsciously bringing up your lower body so your cunt could meet up.

he pushes you back down, a smirk on his face

"be patient, it's the least a whore could do" with one last painful squeeze he takes both your legs and put them onto his shoulders, he aligns himself with your core and spit on his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before inserting his tip into you.

you let out an animalistic mewl at how much pleasure that simple act gave you but you barely have any time to adjust yourself before he slams himself fully into you

you try to pull back away, but the pressure was too much, you looked down and felt like you could see his cock slamming in and out of you. it was so slim and long that it hit all the right places on the first try. your chest was heaving up and down the same way it did after you ran a marathon or chased after your bus. the amount of pleasure you were experiencing was driving you crazy, he pulled you back in by your waist, eyebrows furrowed.

you felt so full like you were about to pee. "I can't; fuck i'm-close can't take it" you cry out trying out again to back up but he takes both his hands and cozily and pushes himself deeper into you, he hit the spot that makes you cum and as if on the command you do exactly that. a mix of squirting and creamy come going all over his balls and coating his base, even getting on his toned stomach. fuck he was in love

the sight of you coming and moaning all because of him has him doing the same, he holds your waist in position and cums in you, not pulling out until you were full of every last drop of his seed. you felt yourself practically getting filled up as if you had just eaten. the feeling was pure ecstasy, your boyfriend always pulled out even when you begged.

you stare at each other for a moment, what was once lust got replaced by something else which stirred a desire in the pits of your stomach. you get interrupted by the rining if that special tone once more, you start to reach for it but sohee grabs your hand and slams it down next to you.

"don't," he says sternly. it was supposed to sound like a command but it almost sounded like he was begging, pleading for your attention to stay on him. you nodded with starry eyes, still coming down from the incredible high he had just given you.

he crouches down and you sit up halfway on your elbows sorta confused, suddenly he pulls your in and hurridly barries his face into your cunt. it started a lot romantic as if he were making out with your cunt. delicate kisses to your inter thigh, slower pulling on your lips, and tender licks on your clit. you sigh in bliss, but you lose your balance when he strikes his tongue into your core, a finger at your clit playing with it in a circular motion that has you moaning profanities.

his tongue would occasionally go flat to slurp up the combination of both your juices, your cum mixed was now coated on his tongue and around his offy pink lips, he ate you out like he was a starved animal. his grip on your hip grew firmer the more you moaned his name. his dick was now slightly hard again and he found himself pathetically rutting against the couch as he ate you out to offer himself some form of relief.

you come again, this time in his mouth and he doesn't waste a second licking up all your wetness, moaning at how good you taste, drowning you in praises for coming for him twice. your leg was shaking, toes curled at the overstimulation when suddenly siri starts reading out loud a recent message sent 1 minute ago:

"eunseokie says: 'why haven't you been answering? i'm outside, i'm coming up now.' one minute ago. Would you like to reply?"

"NO", you yell out in a rush, sitting up and suddenly too aware of your current state sohee lifts his head, he sees the look on your face and knows his fun with you is over.

sohee purposely drags his tongue out of you at a slow, painful pace that ears one last moan out from you before he sits up, throwing his head back onto the couch while pulling up his boxers and pants, stuffing his still aching cos into them.

you get off the couch and look around for your panties but they are still in sohee's pants, you bend down and reach for them from his pocket but even with his eyes closed he gets a grip on your wrist and shakes his head. "don't even bother"

you let out an exasperated huff, legs still far too weak to be arguing right now. you calculated in your head and realized your boyfriend, eunseok should be coming up in approximately two minutes. you take a crumbled-up napkin from your table and use it to wipe anything off yourself before moving sohee out of the way you were down the couch before tossing it in the bin.

you then grab the throw blanket you were wearing and throw it into the washer, tossing in a random detergent before starting it.

"c'mon, sohee don't do this to me you have to go before he gets her-" your sentence is cut off by the sound of keys jiggling.

sohee gets up, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart hurt. he runs a hand through his hair before he leans in to kiss you, catching you completely off guard. you don't let yourself enjoy the kiss, backing up before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, eyes almost popping out of your sockets.

you hear the door open and sohee smirks, smiling as he makes his way to the front. you follow loosely behind him.

sohee and eunseok met right at the door as sohee was bending down to finish tying up his shoes.

"ah, hyung nice to see you again," sohee says as he pulls together his most polite smile, even sticking out his hand for a handshake. eunseok looks down at it and shakes it, giving a curt smile as he enters.

"are we close enough for you to call me hyung" he asked, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look good. jet black hair parted to the side, a cocky and passive-aggressive smile plastered on his face. sohee noticed the way you looked at eunseok and felt bitterness grow in his heart, and that was the one thing he had never been.

you clear your throat and approach your boyfriend, slightly limping before wrapping your arms around his neck, eunseok drops sohee's hands and pulls you into an embrace by your waist. it hurts slightly because sohee was just gripping them but you plaster your fake smile, holding back a whimper of pain. sohee looks at you both before he heads out the door.

with you still at his side, eunseok holds the door handle, watching the younger boy in front of him with daggers.

"ah, there's something on your lip, over here" eunseok points out to the younger boy, pointing a finger to his top lip to point out where the "thing" is.

soheee brings his finger up to where it is and looks at his hand after, it was your wetness, still on his face, in front of your fucking boyfriend. you mentally face-palm yourself and pray to the universe your boyfriend is too fired to guess what that is.

sohee drags it into his mouth, strategically sucking on his finger with an innocent smile. "thanks hyung, reader gave me a nice, warm, toaster struddle earlier. i'm a bit of a messy eater tho" he says with a slightly narcissistic laugh as he shoves his hands into his pocket, you can see in one pocket he's fumbling with something, your panties to be exact.

yeah, time to wrap this up, you thought to yourself before tugging in eunseok's long-sleeved leather jacket, you pulled him back before giving sohee a curt nod and apologetic smile that only the two of you knew.

sohee's heart felt heavy, and you couldn't put it into words but yours did too. he gave a nod back as if all was fine as if he understood but you could tell by the look on his face that his heart was breaking right in front of you and you were the cause, you slowly shut the door but your boyfriend locks it before you could even register the situation you almost got caught in and the heavy feeling in your chest.

eunseok pulls you away from the door, sighing as he walks and leads you to your living room, the living room where you just came twice.

you look up once you hear eunseok cough a bit and let go of your hand, plopping down on your couch.

"by the way, why is the washing machine on so late?'

--

an: hey! muse here, how'd you enjoy this short nonsense i whipped up after almost 6 months(?) of ghosting you all, haha.. but really, if i told you guys everything that happened to me since what i last dropped, you wouldn't even believe me. i'm still quite busy but i missed you guys, and i missed writing. i'm not going to make any promises on how frequently i'll update but for now, fuck it, why not say i'm back lol. i hope you guys enjoyed :)

[ghostwarriorrrr]

🇹🇷🔥 Turkish Air Force - F-4E 2020 Terminator

The F-4E 2020 Terminator represents a significant leap forward in the capabilities of the Turkish Air Force. This comprehensive upgrade enhances the venerable F-4E Phantom II with modern Turkish-made weapons systems, showcasing Türkiye’s commitment to self-reliance and advanced military technology.

Background

With a storied history dating back to the 1960s, the F-4E Phantom II has been a pivotal player on the global stage of air combat. Serving multiple nations and seeing numerous conflicts, the Phantom carved out its place in aviation history as a versatile and rugged aircraft. Türkiye’s decision to upgrade this aircraft stems from a strategic imperative to leverage existing assets while infusing them with cutting-edge technology to maintain relevance in modern aerial warfare. The 2020 Terminator program is the Turkish Air Force’s ambitious initiative to retrofit these fighters with state-of-the-art systems.

Strategic Importance

The ability to exert air superiority and conduct precision strikes is paramount in a region marked by dynamic security challenges. The F-4E 2020 Terminator’s enhanced capabilities contribute significantly to deterrence, and the demonstration of Türkiye’s advancing aerospace industry serves both a strategic and diplomatic purpose.

Upgrade Overview

The 2020 Terminator upgrade, realized by Turkish Aerospace Industries in collaboration with ASELSAN, constitutes a multifaceted improvement over the aircraft’s original design. It touches every aspect of the aircraft’s systems, bringing its avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare systems into the 21st century.

Avionics:

The modernized multi-mode pulse Doppler radar extends the aircraft’s detection range, allowing it to lock onto and engage targets from greater distances. Integrating a Hands-On Throttle-And-Stick (HOTAS) system enhances pilot control, minimizing response time during high-stakes manoeuvres. Color Multifunctional Displays (MFDs) replace outdated gauges, providing pilots with real-time data visualization for improved situational awareness.

Armament:

The Terminator’s weapons suite has been revolutionized with a mixture of Western and indigenous munitions. Long-standing armaments like the AIM-9X Sidewinder are joined by Türkiye’s own precision-guided munitions, such as the SOM cruise missile, capable of striking strategic land and sea targets with formidable accuracy. The UAV-230, a domestic innovation, represents the pinnacle of Türkiye’s missile development, offering supersonic ballistic delivery of a range of warhead types over substantial distances. The BOZOK, MAM-C, MAM-L, and Cirit missiles exemplify Türkiye’s expertise in laser guidance and smart munition technology, enabling the Terminator to engage and defeat a broad spectrum of target profiles with unerring precision.

Electronic Warfare:

To contend with the contemporary battlefield’s electronic warfare environment, the F-4E 2020 Terminator incorporates an advanced Electronic Support Measures (ESM) system for rapid threat identification and an Electronic Countermeasures (ECM) suite to confound hostile tracking systems. Moreover, chaff and flare dispensers have been integrated to provide decoys against incoming missile threats, enhancing the aircraft’s survivability in hostile airspace.

Operational Capability:

The F-4E Phantom II, transformed by these integrated systems, emerges as a multirole platform capable of dominating beyond-visual-range air-to-air engagements and precision ground-attack missions. It can operate in complex electronic warfare environments and deliver various ordnances based on mission requirements, making it a flexible asset in the Türkiye Air Force’s inventory.

Significance:

The F-4E 2020 Terminator project is a hallmark of Türkiye’s aerospace ambition and its push toward defence autonomy. By retrofitting and modernizing its Phantoms, Türkiye maximizes the value of its existing fleet while also establishing a foundation for future indigenous aircraft development projects.

Munitions Details:

The advanced, indigenous Turkish weaponry integrated into the F-4E 2020 Terminator underlines a significant shift toward self-reliance in defence technologies. Each munition type brings unique capabilities that enhance the platform’s lethality:

UAV-230: A domestically-developed ballistic missile, this supersonic weapon delivers high-precision strikes at long ranges, challenging enemy defences with its speed and reduced radar cross-section.

BOZOK: The versatility of this laser-guided munition makes it ideal for engaging both stationary and moving targets with high precision, ideal for close air support.

MAM-C/L: These smart micro munitions are designed for tactical flexibility, allowing for precision targeting in complex engagement scenarios, from anti-armour operations to counter-insurgency roles.

Cirit: A highly accurate laser-guided missile system designed for low collateral damage, Cirit is adept at striking soft and lightly armoured targets with pinpoint accuracy.

SAGE Munitions: TUBITAK SAGE, Türkiye’s leading defence research and development institute, has contributed a range of munitions enhancing the Terminator’s operational capabilities across various domains.

Conclusion:

The upgraded F-4E 2020 Terminator is a testament to Türkiye’s determination to retain a competitive edge in aerospace and defence technologies. The integration of modern avionics, armaments, and electronic warfare capabilities ensures the aircraft’s continued relevance in modern air combat, and its presence in the skies serves as a deterrent in a strategically complex region.

[ori-anna-v-58008]

Sniper Pilot

You didn't used to be very good at landing your shots.

You had been designed, ostensibly, to function as a sniper. At the time, you were not sure why they did this; the bones in your hands had been ravaged by disease over the course of your short life, and they had an ever-present shudder that you could never fully correct without sedatives. Your only clues were a snippet of a conversation you heard as you went under for modification after months of failure.

"She needs to be desperate to succeed," someone said.

When you used your mech, your weakness wasn't a problem - it could stabilize your near-useless hands, and it could sustain thousands of times more recoil than your weak, flimsy joints could. The first time you fired that massive cannon, watching the bullet careen through a lineup of enemy soldiers, you felt like you had finally discovered your purpose. You learned then that they had installed in you a very special mod.

When you landed that shot, your pain went away. You couldn't feel your mech body straining against the tremble of your flesh one. Your meat was able to fade totally into the background, melting into the metal of the better you.

It didn't last long. There was another enemy not far from you, and you could feel the pain seeping back. You fired again, the leg of your target drifting off into space. The healing mod, whatever it was, only kicked in long enough for you to shoot again. Your bullet missed - the enemy was able to right themselves from the blast faster than you anticipated - and they were closing in.

Missing, you discovered, was a miserable experience. Your hands wrenched in their armor like a spike had been driven through them, and your mech failed to fully account for the extraneous movement. The enemy zeroed in on your location at blazing speed, a massive laser sword casting wicked blue light across their visor. Your missed shot and your shaking hands sent your rifle scattering around, accidentally nudging the arm of your assailant.

Their sword still nearly found its mark, severing an arm from your mech. You felt your stabilizers working overtime to account for the missing mass, and propelled yourself backwards away from another slash.

You knew your second shot had found the perfect mark first by the wave of freeing, painless bliss through your body. Your mech and your self were one and the same, your rifle standing stable against the darkness, a beam sword floating uselessly beside a destroyed chassis.

For a moment you forgot you were on a battlefield. You were completely lost in your ecstasy, explosions and destruction so distant from your station in the exosphere. Only the voice of Handler could bring you back.

"Excellent work, Thimble. Looks like your suit sustained some damage - no big deal. We've got a couple more targets for you coming into your targeting system. I probably don't have to tell you you'll wanna get them quickly?"

You felt the pain coming back into your hands. Your rifle was noticeably heavier with only one mech arm to hold it in.

You'd find your marks if it's the last thing you did.

[themeraldee]

Okay so no Homelander x supe but hear me out /hj

what about Homelander x normal person who gets his powers temporarily while pregnant with his kid and they don't realize until the first time she gets pissed off while pregnant and lasers a hole through the penthouse window and they're stood they're like o-o

Okay you know what you're onto something. It's not that I hate supe!reader but I think I just haven't come across powers that I wanted to write about. Or that I thought fit him. HOWEVER you having a sliver of his powers bcs of the V in your system NOW THAT I fuck with.

To me it sends me down the rabbit hole of is he beyond elated that there's someone like him? Or would part of him resent that you got his godlike powers so easily without the suffering he went through. Like he should be the only special one in that regard right? You're special because you're you and you're his. He's special because he's a god with no match.

Anyway once he gets over that conundrum which I'm sure would end up with him in a way pleased that there's no one like him except you and you're by his side. So like, talk about a power couple. Sex would be a whole other thing. Like do you fly too? Do you have enough strength to leave marks on him??? aaahhh the possibilities are endless.

Until your body drains the V and suddenly he's on a mission to keep you knocked up at all times...

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Annnngsssstttttt, mentions of sexual abuse but nothing is depicted, Steven being the bean that he is, Reader does a smort, knowledge is power, and knowing is half the battle lol

A/N: Finally! Things are falling into place! Will Steven reveal the truth? Nah.

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika @fog-sama @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @badbishsblog @lillycore555 @stardream14 @meowmeowyoongles @kate-ohara @kittenlover614 @patchesofwork @enheduannasposts

Chapter 15:

Sphinx of Black Quartz

"Steven?"

Steven winced when you said his name, almost shrunk away when your hands squished his cheeks as you peered into his eyes; your gaze full of confusion, concern and... maybe a little hurt?

"I, uh... well... I..." He blathered, tugging on his sleeves anxiously, his nails pinching the threading in an effort to ground himself.

"Wait, what?" You released his face pressing your finger to the sides of your head as you gawked at him like he'd grown a second head. Not that that wasn't too far off the mark...

Technically speaking, we could be considered Cerberus then, couldn't we? Steven had asked himself.

"No, what?" You asked again, blinking at him as your brain struggled to catch up. One minute, you and Marc and Puck were just relaxing and chatting over some coffee, and then... The moment you got that phone call about the shipment you'd gotten approved for, and then Marc was just... screaming, yelling at the air. "Stay away from her!" He had cried, "She's our friend!"

Did he have a psychotic break? Had something happened on that trip he had taken--

Wait.

The "trip"? Was that even the truth? How was it, that Steven Grant sat before you know, where just moments before, Marc Spector had stood?

"Steven?" You repeated.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed at the lump there, and he nodded, a few stray curls bouncing free as he hunched over a bit on himself, continuing to pluck at the long shirt you'd loaned him.

"Y-Yes." He replied softly, his eyes shying away from you. Looking anywhere but you.

He was... he was afraid. Steven was afraid of you?

"I..."

Steven had taken a scant second to lock eyes with you again, taking in the depths of your gaze with lucid intensity--before darting away again.

"Steve." You breathed, rubbing your temples. "I... what? What happened to--did Marc--I... Can you please explain before I have an aneurysm? Did Marc have a psychotic episode?"

"Not... not far from it, actually." Steven mumbled again. His posture stiffened when Puck meowed at him, sauntering up to crawl into his lap, rubbing herself along his chest.

"Oh, hello... who're you?" Steven asked, getting distracted by the furry critter. His hands stopped plucking and tugging on his sleeves in favor of stroking Puck's silky black fur, "You're a sweet one, eh?"

You blinked for the millionth time at him, your brain abuzz with confusion, wanting--no, craving--some sort of explanation. You watched for another moment as Steven was suddenly laser-focused on Puck, speaking softly to the cat, petting her with his shaky hands.

"Steven.." You said gently.

His shoulders jumped when he remembered you were staring at him. "O-oh, s-sorry, luv."

Puck curled up in his lap, loafing as she blinked up at you slowly. Oh, you wished you could read her little kitty mind to hear what she thought of the situation...

Steven swallowed roughly once more, his hands petting Puck again--likely in an effort to relax himself from suddenly being brought to the forefront of this situation. His tongue swept across his lips before drawing it between his teeth; trying to think about where to begin.

"Marc is... W-We are..." He began to murmur, staring intently down at the soft black cat occupying his lap.

"It's difficult to explain, um... But we--Jake 'n me--we... We live in Marc's head. S-Sort of? We--we share the body, we... Uh. B-But it's not all the time, er... Sometimes not all of us are aware of what goes on when one of us is in control of the body, and..." He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead while the other continued to almost frantically stroke Puck.

"Oh, bollocks! We--we didn't want you to find out like this, but Marc..." He hissed out an upset sigh; "He was--he was upset, and... I tried to calm him down from inside, but he just... he checked out, and..."

You stare intently at him, his nervous posture, how he just seemed more... Submissive in the moment. A complete change from the guarded, stiff Marc you'd come to know. And the rather calm and carefree (almost) Jake, at Steven's admission.

Your brain began connecting the dots; one by one. So... Jake had been in control of the body these past few weeks. And... Marc and Steven weren't aware. You remembered how shocked Marc had been when you'd told him about having dinner with Jake in your flat; how Marc--and now Steven--didn't recognize Puck.

You always thought the three of them looked too similar to be triplets--they even had the same scars on their hands.

They "shared" the body. But at times weren't aware what was going on when one of them "checked out", as Steven had plainly put it.

Jake was apparently nowhere to be seen, Steven was trying to be a calming influence on Marc...

"Steven..." You said slowly, watching as his deep, soulful eyes finally crawled up to lock with yours. "Do you--do you have dissociative identity disorder?"

Steven rocked his head back, shaking it slightly as he gawked at you, bewildered, "How do you--"

"I own a bookstore, Steven," You said to him, your voice rather deadpan. "I've definitely read a few of the dozen and a half of the psychology textbooks and studies on psychological disorders."

"Oh... right. Heh..." He coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So..." You reached out and clasped his fingers in yours, making Steven's heart leap with anxiety once again.

Puck jumped from his lap as you took his other hand, gently guiding him to his feet and leading him back to your sofa. "...explain it to me, okay? If I ask a question that upsets you... please tell me. You won't have to answer it. I just... I'd like to know who I've been making friends with."

Layla groaned as she crawled back through the window, cursing as she bonked her head on the windowsill. Yeah, she had the helmet, but it was still annoying to have her proverbial eggs scrambled.

She spent most of the day hammering down on a cruel scheme begotten by a group of rather cruel landlords and real estate agents--they would find legal loopholes in contracts and leases, they abused the power they held over their tenants--in some cases sexually in return for "breaks" in rent--some, they would evict with little to no reason, sell out the rentals from beneath the feet of others...

Taweret had pleaded with Layla to put a stop to it. Even Khonshu had helped her for a bit, watching from the sidelines and giving his (not really wanted) input. The truth was, it was a sort of criminal gang behind it all, they just paid the landlords and agents to get a hefty chunk of the proceeds from their illicit goings-on. But... somewhere during her mission, Khonshu had left. Taweret had seemed miffed; annoyed that Khonshu would up and leave after being so bothersome and insisting that they "needed his help"...

She arched her back, groaning as the helmet slid away; vanishing to free her curls with a bounce. Pressing her hands against the curve of her spine, she looked around as the rest of her holy garb melted away.

"Marc?" She asked the empty flat.

No answer. Strange. She left him here earlier. He'd expressed no interest in going out today; especially given the weather outside.

Layla pulled her cell out of her back pocket and unlocked it, dialing the boys' phone. As she held it up to her ear, she became aware that the ringtone buzzed from somewhere in the flat.

"Marc?" Layla asked, not hanging up quite yet as she walked through the proverbial minefield of Steven's books, DIY'd desk, past Gus & Co's fish tank... to the bed in the back of the room.

It was made neatly--Marc's habit, definitely. Steven always left the bed in a mess, often forgetting to make it until just before he settled down for the night. Odd, how he would leave it a tangled nest all day and only be able to sleep in it if it were made up just before cosying down to sleep.

She shook her head and furrowed her brows as her eyes settled upon their cellphone, laying tossed at the edge of the bed, ringing.

"Lonely is A Man." Steven's favorite little jingle that she'd be lying about if she didn't say it got caught in her head every other day since coming back to London from doing Taweret's work in Cairo. It annoyed her how often she would find herself humming the tune...

She picked up the phone and hung hers up, sliding it back into her jeans, staring at it curiously as she walked back into the main area of the flat, and into the kitchenette.

She sighed, frowning even deeper. Khonshu's work, no doubt. The old bastard always had something to do with it when Marc (and by extension Steven and Jake) would vanish with no word. But why leave their phone? Did Khonshu have them doing something dangerous? Shady?

"Gods, what have you gotten yourselves into, Marc..?" Layla groaned, pressing her hands to her forehead as she leaned over the counter.

As she opened her eyes, she looked over the granite countertop, staring at the abandoned phone. Something was wrong. Something she didn't quite like. She--

Her long eyelashes batted for a moment, sweeting her cheeks as she tried to fathom what else her eyes had just landed on. Mail. Not just any mail, but bills in Marc's name. The address for some of said bills being...

She and Marc's old address, from when they had been married.

Her fingers quickly snatched up the envelope and used the letter opener to get a look at its contents. As she unfolded the paper, her eyes scanned the writing with lightning efficiency.

It was a receipt. A receipt for paid rent and utilities. Had he really been paying the rent and electric at an apartment he no longer used..? Why? Why wouldn't he mention that?

Taweret suddenly appeared, her ears flopping about in concert, "Layla? Something the matter, m'love? I sensed you were upset."

"Marc is gone. Left his phone." She replied on a mumbled breath as she continued to read through the other receipts, blindly walking through the flat until a sparkle caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

A keyring. Marc's keyring, glittering under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the flat.

"Layla?"

"He's been paying our old bills, still." Layla further explained, setting the receipt on the end table by the door as she plucked the ring off the hook on the wall.

Her thumb caressed the scratched-up colorful key once depicting a rather cheery cartoon house; faded writing that said "home" at the flattest end of it, making her heart twinge slightly.

Some things Marc just really couldn't let go...

"He must still be doing mercenary work. Or, Jake is at least, to be able to afford both flats on his own."

Taweret frowned, tilting her head to the side, "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm going to see if he's been by the place, today... and when I get back--assuming he's back home by then--lecture him for letting me sleep in that sofa of his. I got a crick in my neck from it!"

The goddess giggled, nodding, "Be careful, Layla. Oh! And grab your umbrella!"

The woman grinned up at her, grabbing her scarf Jake had knitted for her, and her coat; before snatching up said protection from the sleet outside, wiggling it.

"Way ahead of you."

"So... Marc was arguing with... one of you?" You asked, your brows pinched as you try to make sense of thr fragmented story Steven was unfurling before you.

"Well, er... kind of. He was having a bit of... panic?" He laughed anxiously, his fingers carding through Puck's fur. The little cat seemed content to let Steven work out his nervous energy by petting her; her silky fur being a very nice texture for his hands to fiddle with while he rambled on for you.

"He has been having a bit of internalized guilt, lately, over... things."

""Things" being..."

"Things that, um..." He scratched Puck's chin as he thought carefully of what to say. He couldn't just spill the proverbial pot of beans to you. Like you'd believe him, anyway. Having cursory knowledge of the psychological... problems that they suffered with was one thing, but he sincerely doubted you believed that Egyptian gods were real, or that they and Layla were Avatars to two of said gods...

"I don't know if Marc would be comfortable with sharing much of it, 'm afraid."

"Does it... have something to do with him being a Marine? I know how common it is for soldiers to develop PTSD." You murmur softly, your eyes casting down into your half-empty mug. You and Steven had switched to decaf tea; the gravity and air inside your flat far too tense for the caffeine-loaded drinks you and Marc had imbibed just before.

Your eyes looked back into his, and, uncharacteristically, Steven was gazing right back, connecting with you.

"Is... that how... you know. You and Jake..?"

Steven shook his head, his curls flopping about, "No, DID sort of... it typically happens during traumatic events during childhood. In some people it isn't obvious until much later, and is sometimes misdiagnosed as schizophrenia or multiple personalty disorder. Marc has just been feeling... guilty, lately. Over people he... couldn't save."

As he uttered that last phrase oh so meekly, you could see that poor Steven was feeling Marc's internalized guilt as well. Your heart broke for them. You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling how tense he was.

"Does Layla know?"

"Yes. That's part of why... why Marc has been so upset lately." Steven replied softly, nuzzling into Puck as she stood with her front paws on his soft chest, sniffing at his hair.

"He had an... episode. He woke up and... he was on top of Layla and he was--he was going to hurt her, and--he snapped out of it, but--"

"He feels guilty about it." You finished for him, your heart sinking in sympathetic despair.

Steven nodded and looked up at you, practically hiding behind Puck, "Yeah. Layla told him it was okay, that it happens, but Marc is just so... stubborn. He tries to handle everything himself when it comes to stuff like this; doesn't want the help Jake and I try to give 'im."

"And what does Jake have to say? Is he... listening right now?" You asked.

"No. He and Marc are..." Steven forced out a sigh as Puck settled down again, rolling to show her his belly that he was more than happy to rub for her, relishing in how hard she was purring, the vibration soothing as it thrummed through his hands.

"Sometimes we... we recede into the background. Into our own little "rooms" in the headspace." He explained difficultly, your poor brain trying to follow. "When we're in there, we aren't really aware of what's going on, or even feel each other. It's why I didn't know Marc or Jake existed--why I didn't know the body wasn't actually mine."

"Your headspace is where you share things with each other..?" You tried, tilting your head.

"Yes! Well, in basic terms. It's... I don't know how else to explain it to you, I'm afraid." He muttered awkwardly, poking at Puck's toe beans one by one.

"That's okay... I think if you try to explain anymore my head is going to explode." You chuckle softly, sipping at your tea.

Steven finally cracked a smile.

"It is quite a lot to absorb, innit?" He asked you, smiling a bit wider as Puck grabbed his hand with her paws and tugged it closer to her body.

You smiled affectionately as Puck seemed so intent on helping Steven relax, pulling out every ounce of cute feline charm her tiny body could muster. "Puck really likes you guys... Y'know when she first met Jake she snatched his glove and ran off with it? Stuffed it right into her little cubby where she hoards her toys I keep buying for her."

"Oh, no!" He laughed quietly, booping Puck on her little nose.

"Mhmm... that's kind of why I named her Puck." You explained, setting your mug onto the coaster on your coffee table.

"After the trickster fae from A Midsummer Night's Dream?" He grinned widely.

His knowledge of folklore didn't surprise you one bit; you nodded, grinning right back. "She doesn't spoil milk or lead people astray at night... But she certainly has her moments."

Steven sighed, smiling fondly at the fluffy little terror currently occupying his lap, "No, I'd say she does a very good job at bering very sweet when she wants to be..."

A comfortable, pregnant silence stretched between you, only interrupted by Puck's very loud purring. Until, Steven cleared his throat, rolling his shoulder as he looked away briefly.

"So... you invited Jake up here, too..?"

"Oh, yeah. That goof! I walked in on him at the market trying to buy one of those cheap microwave meals!" You huffed, rolling your eyes.

Steven seemed appalled at the news, but not at all surprised, "He didn't!"

"Nope, 'cause I didn't let him." You told him, "I finished my shopping and dragged his butt back here and made him eat an actual meal."

Steven was quiet for another moment, fidgeting awkwardly in his seat. His face seemed to get a little flush as he cleared his throat once again, the sound rough and forced.

"What's wrong?"

"Jake didn't... oh, bloody hell." Steven wiped a hand down his face, unable to meet your eyes as his face heated up, "Jake didn't... didn't try to... to..."

He swallowed, "...do it with you or anything?"

You could just hear the record scratch on an antique vinyl player as your brain came to a halt. His words sank in, and you couldn't keep down the laughter that bubbled out from inside of you, rocking back onto your side on the cushion as the humor of his question overtook you.

"I--! I'm only askin' because he's--he's kind of done it b'fore!" Steven squawked nervously, confident his face was eight shades of red right now. "Bloke thinks of himself as a bloody Casanova, he does! Damned bellend..."

You giggled again, sitting up to look at him, mirth overtaking the glimmer in your eye, happy the tension in the air was finally alleviated, "No, Steven, Jake and I didn't "do it". We had dinner, and Puck annoyed him for a bit. That's it."

He seemed to deflate and relax at your admission, trusting you wholly, "...Oh. Well, good. We'd rather him not ruin one of the relatively normal friendships we have by... boinking you."

His choice of words once again made you break out laughing, tears burning in your eyes as he floundered about nervously.

"Oh, my god--Steven! What are you, twelve?" You snorted, trying to gasp for air. ""Do it"? "Boinking"?! Pfsh!"

"H-Hey! The more vulgar language is usually Marc and Jake's territory, not mine!" He sputtered. "I try to stay more civilized, thank you very much!"

You snickered as he began to get all huffy, defending his quirky and conservative way of speaking rather haughtily.

"Right... right. Steven Grant, a man of absolute--snrk!--rectitude!" You squeaked, covering your mouth as a tear beaded in one of your eyes.

"Exactly! I'm the most sensible of--" Steven jerked his head to look at you, his mouth open wide.

"Wha--hey! You're still havin' a go at me, aren't you?!"

You just rolled back onto the couch, crying tears of laughter at the absurdity of your day as Steven fretted, muttering under his breath with a faint glow to his cheeks.

Chapter 16: Link

[ikroah]

I have reached the breaking point, the point of no return, it’s very clear to see a fool like me will never, ever learn. I have reached the breaking point, I hear the drums of doom, I’m gonna flip my wig in one great big atomic boom! —“The Breaking Point,” Bobby Darin (1966)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #27 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding VI

Collaborative Issue! Guest Artist: @sas-afras

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Notes / Transcript:

Notes

Huge thanks to Monty over at @sas-afras for getting this one done! I handled the original layout and lettering, but the rest was all them. Layouts like this can seem simple and easy because of how straight-forward and repetitive they are, but when all you've got are a dozen and one reaction shots, every single one of those reaction shots needs to be as perfect as you can get them. And Monty did a hell of a job. Especially on the coloring! Monty, if you're reading this, you're a hell of a good colorist (on top of everything else). Thanks again!

Another note about this issue is that it, along with the previous one, were some of the most difficult to write in this whole damn comic so far. I really hate repeating in-game dialogue verbatim without good reason, but there's really not much else I could do here. It's a very necessary part of the story that is also literally a part in the game where your character is fixed in place listening to a monologue. I took some liberties, did some punch-up, not just for its own sake but to really drive home what I find most interesting and vital here about Mr. House as a character.

Anyway, Agnes is in trouble. And there's only one issue left in Volume 2! The next one closes out this arc of the story, at long last. Stay tuned.

Transcript

INT. LUCKY 38 BASEMENT. From an observation deck of sorts, AGNES SANDS watches several SECURITRON robots position themselves in a testing area, containing several sandbags, dummies, and makeshift fortifications. A voice booms from an unseen speaker.

MR. HOUSE: You're well familiar with my Securitron police force. But have you ever wondered: what exactly makes them the marquee option in perimeter security and pacification?

AGNES glances in the direction of the voice, uncomfortable.

MR. HOUSE: Well to start, the reinforced titanium alloy housing of each unit, which protects its electronic core, easily deflects small arms and shrapnel.

MR. HOUSE: As for its offensive capabilities, its X-25 gatling laser—produced to spec by Glastinghouse, Inc.—is deadly against soft targets at medium range.

SFX: BZZTZZTZZTZZTZZT

AGNES recoils as a red glow washes over her from the testing area.

MR. HOUSE: And then for close-range suppression or crowd control, the Securitron is also armed with a 9mm sub-machinegun.

SFX: DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA

AGNES shuts her eyes, wincing from the crack of gunfire.

MR. HOUSE: These features have been sufficient for keeping the peace within Vegas, but with the NCR and Legion closing in on Hoover Dam, and sizing up my city like a piece of prize cake, more than ever we need to be prepared for, well...external conflict. Policing is one thing, but when geopolitical powers are involved, my Securitrons can only pose so much of a threat.

MR. HOUSE: That is...if they're forced to rely exclusively on their secondary weapons--as they have been, all this time!

AGNES looks upward, surprised.

MR. HOUSE: Remember, the Great War interrupted a pivotal moment for RobCo's work. Consequently, all extant Securitrons have been stuck, running on a mere Mark I operating system—the first production version of the OS—which has simply lacked the software drivers for the use of their primary weapons all this time!

AGNES looks around, as if HOUSE were in the room somewhere and she could find him, in a panic.

MR. HOUSE: The platinum chip, you see, was never just a token. At a time when industrial espionage ran rampant, it was minted as a high capacity, proprietary, and uniquely irreplicable data storage device. In a way, it's more like a computer chip. And now—with the data from the platinum chip finally installed onto my nextwork—it's time for a very crucial software update. Behold: the new Mark II Securitrons!

AGNES gawks downward at the testing area, eyes wide. Oh no.

MR. HOUSE: Their newly accessible M-235 Missile Launcher gives them the ability to engage ground and air targets at significantly longer ranges...

SFX: PSSSSSHHH KTHOOM THOOM THOOM THOOM

AGNES flinches, covering her face for protecting, and screams as explosions rip apart the testing area below.

MR. HOUSE: ...and their rapid-fire G-28 grenade launching system, another part of the Mark II, makes them much more powerful in close-range engagements as well.

SFX: THMP THMP THMP KRRSSH KRAKTK KABOOM

AGNES, nearly frozen, watches the bombardment with horror.

MR. HOUSE: It also includes rewritten drivers for the Securitrons' auto-repair systems—although always sophisticated, the new optimizations render them inexhaustible in even the most protracted and attritious of engagements. Altogether, the Mark II upgrade confers a 235% total increase in combat effectiveness per unit—and it's all because of you!

AGNES lowers her arm slowly, jaw slack, mortified.

MR. HOUSE: Vegas finally has an army—worthy to protect not just the city itself, but the best interests of all of mankind, at home and abroad. Which is to say: this simple display of might remains a mere teaser for what I can, and what I will, accomplish, in an illustrious new epoch.

AGNES sinks further into a paralytic terror.

MR. HOUSE: What we will accomplish, Agnes—should you accept my offer, of employment. Ah—but I digress. I'm certain that you've had a long day. You can rejoin Miss Cassidy in the presidential suite for the night, if you'd like to, as they say, "sleep on it."

MR. In fact...say for as long as you'd like. However long you may need, to think everything over. And you'll be very well provided for in the meantime, consider it a taste of what could be...should you make the right choice before you.

MR. HOUSE: That reminds me—I've already sent Victor to collect your belongings from the Vault 22 Hotel, so no need to exhaust yourself further by making that trip on your own, hm? There's much about your future to consider, Agnes—and I would like you to think of it as our future.

AGNES stares straight ahead with a deadened expression.

The testing area in the basement has been reduced to smithereens. Fires rage on the rubble of obliterated structures, gnarled steel, and collapsed walkways. The dummies have been dismembered entirely.

MR. HOUSE: ...Goodness, what a mass. With friends like these, I sure wouldn't envy my enemies.

MR. HOUSE: Wouldn't you agree?