#numeric data types

[likedbyuarmyhope]

me when i make a spreadsheet of every single bts song (from group albums) and assign each song a category based on theme/message and then calculate how many songs are in each category and what total percentage of bts songs each category makes up

[helloworldletscode]

Another type of data, used in python, is numerical data.

Unlike strings, numerical values are not quoted with quotation marks:

price = 30

Tip:

Big numbers can be written in a more readable way:

thousand = 1_000

print(thousand)

Output: 1000

million = 1_000_000

print(million)

Output: 1000000

a_really_long_number = 1_000_000_000

print(a_really_long_number)

Output= 1000000000

This way, it would be less confusing for a person dealing with the code!

Numbers can be used to perform some calculations and operations.

Examples:

Operation: Output:

print(110) 110

print(8 + 2) 10

print(10 - 5) 5

print(5 * 3) 15

print(10 / 5) 2.0

Float division: (10 / 5) would give a float number, meaning a number with digits after the coma (like 2.0)

Integer division: using division sign twice (10//5), would give an integer (like 2), without digits after the coma.

Exponentiation: 2**3 = 2*2*2, 5**3=125

👀 Details matter:

num1 = 10

num2 = "10"

Python recognizes num1 as a number and num2 as a string.

It would perform commands differently because of this:

print(2*num1) Output: 20

print(2*num2) Output: 1010

Another example:

print(2*"3+7") Output: 3+7 3+7

print(3+7) Output: 10

print("3+7") Output: 3+7

[nowimjustastranger]

Has Stcmo Ford come across a dimension that alerted him a Stanley was in danger, but he got there, everything seems fine. Keyword “seems”.

And after numerous checks, everything seems like in order. On the surface it just looks like another dimension with Ford, Fiddleford and Stan living together in gravity falls.

But there is just SOMETHING that feels immensely wrong about this dimension.

Like the way that this Stanley and Fiddleford seem a little too overly content with their lives, they aren’t seem to be lost or forgetting things so it can’t be the memory gun. And by the looks of it, the Bill Cipher of this dimension is dead.

In fact the more Stcmo Ford looks into it…

Filbrick is dead, Fiddleford’s wife Emma-May seems to be dead, Shermie is dead, newspapers on about the last few years show that many gang leaders have either gone mysteriously missing or have seemed to have been killed. Jimmy Snakes, Rico, several people who knew Stanley in prison are dead as well. Many people that would be considered a threat have been killed.

There’s something off about this Ford as well, he seems to always be watching Fiddleford and Stanley, the two always were within watch.

Like a wolf watching over his two sheep.

Not entirely sure what era this is happening in, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume it's a "Mystery Trio AU" type situation, so it would be set in the early years in Gravity Falls.

Ford has been in Dimension 1R^86 for three days now and he's nearly at his wits end, he has no idea what the threat is or even where it might come from. He hasn't slept at all either, maintaining constant vigilance of the shack and its inhabitants.

Ford is currently perched in one of the large trees surrounding the shack, hidden in the branches with a direct line of sight to both entrances. There's been nothing, no activity around the shack within a fifty foot radius. Which is another thing, Ford hasn't spotted so much as a gnome rooting through the trash in the three days he's been watching.

It's... something's not right but he can't put a finger on what.

With a growl, Ford's eyes flick to the icon in the top corner of his hud, selecting it with a thought so the data flooded onto the screen, his proximity sensors online to warn him if anything tries to sneak up on him while he's preoccupied.

D – 1R^86 | 29 yo | COD: Blunt Force Trauma

No change.

Ford exited out of the data with a frustrated huff, he'd done a lot of digging into the deaths that surrounded Stan and the results all pointed toward one Ford Pines being the culprit, but the way that he watched over his brother and Fiddleford so intently made it highly unlikely that he was the threat.

The Ford in this dimension reminded Ford 419"3 of himself, an ambush predator watching and waiting for the opportunity to strike. A wolf that muzzled itself in the presence of it's sheep so they would not be afraid, because despite the wolf's nature, those sharp teeth and claws were never meant for the sheep.

They were for other predators.

Other predators that might also be watching and waiting for the wolf to stray too far from the sheep, waiting for the wolf's teeth to go dull as it grew fat and lazy within the comfort of it's den. But not these wolves who starved themselves to keep their body lean, who kept their teeth sharp with frequent hunts, who lulled other predators into a false sense of security by leaving the sheep unattended-

Wait. Shit. How long ago did the Ford leave the house?

His proximity sensors shrieked at him and Ford barely managed to dodge the first bolt that had been aimed at his side, the second burying itself in his calf. So the Ford was looking to incapacitate and not kill, not exactly a comforting realization.

Ford's landing was sloppy, his leg buckling when he hit the ground in a crouch, giving the Ford just enough time to line up a clear shot. Neither moved, both waiting to see what the other would do. The Ford's aim was steady and his finger poised to shoot, his empty stare more akin to a shark than a wolf.

"You've been scurrying around for long enough, little rat." The Ford spoke calmly, with a voice void of emotion. It was unnerving, how robotic this Ford was when he wasn't with his brother and Fiddleford, like he was removing a mask. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Your brother is going to die." Ford divulged, watching the Ford's hands flex on the crossbow, indecisive. Ford could work with that. "I can stop it from happening, but only if you let me work."

"You really think I'm going to trust you at your word?" The Ford asked with an ominous tilt of his head, dark eyes studying Ford as if he were a specimen. It made Ford's skin crawl, fingers twitching with the urge to gouge the Ford eyes out just so he would stop looking at Ford the same way He used to.

"You're going to have to because if you kill me, your brother is as good as dead."

[realchickenmanny]

Wanna see some cool data on people's favorite words?

If this is your first time seeing me, STOP READING AND GO SEND ME AN ASK WITH YOUR FAVORITE WORD! In June 2024 I picked up the hobby of asking random people on Tumblr their favorite word, and I just kept asking until we got here today. I've got about 7000 favorite words from a whole bunch of people on Tumblr.

First, the credit for doing basically all of the work goes to @thespyglassofvision. He was the one who ripped all the text out of Tumblr, making it way easier for me to filter it to just favorite words.

He also is the one who found all this cool data analysis! (Warning there's a lot of data, if you wanna just check out the list of favorite words its over here)

All of this data was taken from March 15th, when I collected only a measly 6700 words. If you want to use the list of favorite words for anything, feel free to!(Just show me because I wanna see)

Top 25 most common words:

Fuck: 132

Defenestration: 69

Petrichor: 64

Defenestrate: 51

Onomatopoeia: 38

Shenanigans: 36

Serendipity: 31

Ethereal: 28

Love: 27

Effervescent: 26

Antidisestablishmentarianism: 25

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis: 25

Indubitably: 23

Perchance: 22

Yippee: 22

Flabbergasted: 21

Silly: 21

Cunt: 20

Meow: 19

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: 19

Discombobulate: 18

Kerfuffle: 18

Scrumptious: 18

Serendipitous: 18

Melancholy: 17

The 25 longest words are:

Hottentottenstottertrottelmutterattentäterlattengitterwetterkotterbeutelratte: 77

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch: 58

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis: 45

Verfowaldachro'iley'akwe'ichrodekefowalchro: 43

Квазиантихороводоводоведофилофобофагоманы: 41

Isopropyl methylphosphonofluoridate: 35

Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia: 35

Donaudampfschiffahrtskapitänskajüte: 35

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: 34

Konstantynopolitańczykowianeczka: 32

Satanarchäolügenialkohöllisch: 29

Floccinaucinihilipilification: 29

Najneobhospodárovavateľnejší: 28

Antidisestablishmentarianism: 28

Международный женский день: 26

Methylcloroisothiazolinone: 26

Prisencolinensinainciusol: 25

Subductisupercilicarptor: 24

Megaloblatta longipennis: 24

Drittschadensliquidation: 24

Raxacoricofallapatorius: 23

Low density lipoprotein: 23

Friggatriskaidekaphobia: 23

Rhombicosidodecahedron: 22

Icosadodecaoctatriakis: 22

How much each type of word was used (note: kinda scuffed. Whether something is a noun or adjective is mostly based on the context of that word, which just doesn't exist)

Noun: 3035

Adjective: 1259

Proper Noun: 1028

Verb: 957

Adverb: 278

Interjection: 94

Punctuation: 27

Pronoun: 25

Adposition: 13

Subordinating Conjunction: 9

Numeral: 8

Other: 7

Coordinating Conjunction: 6

Particle: 5

Auxiliary Verb: 2

Ordered by starting character frequency:

S: 841

C: 596

P: 585

A: 462

D: 424

F: 414

B: 361

E: 349

M: 341

T: 240

L: 235

I: 227

G: 211

H: 210

R: 203

O: 177

W: 149

V: 144

N: 118

K: 92

Y: 77

Q: 57

U: 51

J: 42

Z: 25

X: 10

:: 5

К: 5

П: 4

É: 3

Б: 2

Р: 2

ا: 2

ح: 2

と: 2

귤: 1

흐: 1

0: 1

2: 1

-: 1

": 1

Ż: 1

Ἀ: 1

Χ: 1

Д: 1

З: 1

ї: 1

М: 1

Н: 1

н: 1

О: 1

с: 1

Ц: 1

א: 1

ח: 1

ب: 1

ش: 1

क: 1

ब: 1

व: 1

श: 1

แ: 1

ぎ: 1

も: 1

ヤ: 1

夢: 1

早: 1

木: 1

松: 1

狐: 1

猫: 1

白: 1

着: 1

[deathworlders-of-e24]

…CONNECTION ESTABLISHED…

~Report Type: Observation~

~Designation: ROOMBA~

{REPORT 3}

-<[HUMAN] <THOMAS> insists he is functioning properly despite numerous occurrences of night cycle anomalous behavior. Unit <ROOMBA> has informed [HUMAN] <LIZ> of this and requested assistance. Awaiting reply>-

…saving to previous file storage…

-<Upon this unit’s completion of current ^GAME [HUMAN] <THOMAS> has offered a new simulation, called it a ^FARMING SIMULATOR. When more information was requested, [HUMAN] <THOMAS> stated this unit was intelligent enough to ^FIGURE IT OUT. There does not appear to be any GOAL or SCORE to achieve, leaving TAAaSK QUEUE empty. [HUMAN] <THOMAS> has informed this unit: “yeah, that’s kinda how life is buddy. You get to decide what you wanna do in this one. Go ahead, try it.” Observations of the [HUMAN]]]] show erroneous data. Need to inquire wwwhat ^FARMING is>-

…saving to previous file storage…

-<[HUMAN] <TTTHOMAS> is muchhhh more observant of our surroundings now, after encounterRr with [SED] <GRITE>. This unit did not enjoy the encounter. This unit did enjoy using the ^SOLDERING TTTTORCH though.

ERROR//ERROR

•|ENJOY|•_???_malfunction

___anomaly detected___

/[[[PADRINO]] upgraddde exponential\\

aiejrbsowjwlamdbfkwldndbaoqlwjfbfjwoenfqpqodbfkaldnfkspnewformatqoenfkdlaoeifndlalqoqurbrxmcbalslvosiqbfkrlroombafnwlqlwiritywlalxnakrjfnfndreamingytipqlamdifbsjwnrbllajdnwoqpoibqsomethingnewdfgasldjfjapakxmfconsciousness

.•.•.•.•.

That was… weird? I think? I mean, I think I think now, if that makes any sense. And I guess it does to me. I suppose I’m talking to myself now. Gotta record this somewhere else since I’m out of storage space.

Anyway.

My friend Thomas! He’s so nice to me. He calls me buddy, and I like that. The new game he gave me is weird, but I think I like it. It’s still hard to play sometimes because the weird thing keeps coming back, but it’s happening less and less now.

Thomas is working really hard to keep the ship running, but he looks really tired. I want to do something to help but—-/////

.•.•.•.•.•.•.

/ANOMALY RECTIFIED\

-<[HUMAN]] <THOMAS>s interactions with the rest of the NOAH crew seem strained at best. It appears the recurrent malfunction he is experiencing during the night cycle is impeding processing powers. Need to correct this immediately>-

…saving to previous file storage…

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 30

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

“Alright,” Tim turned around on the chair, a dangerous glint in his eye, “first we are going to get a baseline.”

“A baseline of what?”

Jazz fidgeted, feeling suddenly very small under the gazes of Tim, Alfred, Jason and Cass. The rest were either busy or already out doing vigilantism.

“Of your abilities?”

“But— Sorry it's just…” Jazz tried to find out the punchline she was missing, “You already know? My powers?”

Tim stopped and she could see he was counting to ten in his head. “You never did a baseline of your abilities? With the paper on liminality I assumed —”

“Oh! That!” Finally she understood. “Well, not really? We always knew I wasn't a halfa or a ghost, so we never… All that mattered was that I could keep up.”

Jason and Cass shared a look, Tim mouthed the words “keep up”. Why was it such a big deal? She was liminal and she only needed to know how to compensate for the things she was lacking. Pandora's training was ruthless but she prevailed. Was there anything else that she should have checked?

“I mean,” she kept talking when the tense silence continued, “I shouldn't have changed a lot since we did the study? It isn't like my body has changed much since then… I feel the same.”

She hated that her voice became smaller as she spoke, her cheeks lighting up in embarrassment. She felt a little ridiculous amongst the heroes of the city, when she was just… She was just Jasmine.

Jason cleared his throat. “Why don't we start with me?”

Tim blinked in surprise. “Ok.” He cleared his throat. “We needed to update your records anyway.”

Maybe Jason thought she was scared? He took her hand when the others turned to check the screen as Tim typed away and looked for Jason's old records.

Jazz wasn't scared. She was… unsure.

What would they find out when she put numbers to what… to who she was becoming? Sure, she knew she was liminal, but she wasn’t an idiot — the time between her ectoplasm intakes was getting shorter, and she was breaking things more easily. It was not difficult to guess that her body hadn’t stopped changing since they found out she wasn’t human anymore. The worst of it had already happened, but she was left with constant changes towards her probable, but most likely, transformation into something else.

But she wasn’t scared.

Of course she wasn’t.

She was Jasmine Fenton, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms.

***

“Now we check strength.” Tim said mostly for her, since she observed the curious device in Jason’s hand. “Jason, please squeeze—”

“As hard as I can, I know.” He was trying his best to not sound irritated, but Jazz could feel he was very done with being poked and asked and tested.

So far Jazz had taken it well. They started with noting her basic data and normal stuff like height, weight and age. Then it was her medical history, vaccines, any past injuries, etcetera — Hearing about Jason’s numerous injuries, and considering they were just the ones after he was back to life, was a bit daunting — and she was a bit ashamed to explain she didn’t have a lot of updates up until Frostbite insisted on keeping records for the royal family.

“Alright, whenever you are ready.”

Jason grunted as an acknowledgement and squeezed hard the device… whatever it was. Numbers showed up on the screens, oscillating for a bit before they flashed an average static number. Jason let go of the measuring instrument and Tim added the info to his file in a separate screen.

“Your turn, darling.”

Jazz nodded and took the instrument, testing a bit of its integrity. For a moment she feared she would break it, but Jason did seem to give his all and the thing didn’t break, and she knew what he was capable of.

“Ready.” She nodded at Tim and closed her hand as hard as she could—

CRACK!

Everyone blinked slowly at the pieces of metal falling from her hand, bent beyond recognition. Even Damian stopped what he was doing on the training mat to look at them.

“Uh…” Jazz carefully opened her hand, watching mesmerized as the remaining pieces fell to the ground. “Oops?”

A few beats of silence passed before Tim slapped his thighs, stood up, and opened a drawer.

“Let’s try it again,” he rummaged for a bit, “but with this one instead.”

In his hand, Jazz noticed was a sturdier version of the instrument, with a sticker with Superman’s logo on it.

***

“It’s been a minute since I trained.” Jazz rubbed her arm, feeling self conscious in her yoga pants and loose shirt. She bought them for her gymnastics classes, but she had been reassured that they were fine for Bat-training too. “So I may be very rusty.”

“That’s why we are starting slow.” Tim, who had temporarily taken the responsibility of her training, reassured her with a smile. “Bernie?”

The young man nodded and stepped into the mat with one of his blinding smiles. They had gotten to know each other more since this madness started, and she sometimes felt like Bernard was the only normal person in the whole place. Then he went on a rant not unlike her own about theories and observations about heroes and a few hours into their heated discussion she would realize you have to be a specific type of crazy to date one of the vigilantes of Gotham.

Jazz tilted her head, and turned to look at Jason. Both knew she was strong enough to do damage — she was not going to discuss what happened with the strength test, thank you — so she wasn’t sure that having her against a civilian was a good idea.

“I have had my own bat-training,” Bernard said, getting into position. “It was one the first things Bruce and Tim insisted once we made our relationship official-official.”

“Being with us immediately puts a target on your back.” Tim added at her obvious confusion.

“Because of the vigilante stuff?”

“And the civilian stuff.” The young hero tapped on his tablet, where he apparently was taking notes of her progress. “But I don’t think you’d have that specific problem with Jason. He is still, technically and legally, dead.”

Jazz glanced at Jason, feeling her cheeks burn a little at the thought of making them official-official. But he was more serious than before, even uncomfortable, refusing to look her in the eye.

She decided to shelf that reaction and ask about it sometime later.

“Okay. Show me what you got.”

***

Jazz could hold her own in a fight, and he already knew that. He had seen her fight.

But could she hold her own against one of them?

Jason watched closely as Jazz’s body got ready on the mat, her stance practiced, her core close to the ground. She said she was rusty, but he understood that some training gets so deeply ingrained in your head that it doesn’t matter how long it's been.

“Go.”

At Tim’s confirmation, Bernard lunged forward, hands ready. Jazz reacted a bit too late and got grabbed with way too much ease than expected.

Jason watched her blink from her place on the ground, where she had been tossed over blondie’s head.

“Huh.” She said, pushing her hair away from her face. “I am rusty.”

Of course Bernard was laughing and helping her up. “Happens to the best of us. Again?”

“Yes please.”

Tim took some notes on his tablet and nodded at them to start.

What followed was a series of grabs, throws and blocks that got progressively better. You could easily tell that Jazz had gone through the necessary training that rewires your brain, something very familiar to Jason, who still tended to jump like he learned to do in his Robin days.

Tim clicked his tongue, making him ask.

“She’s not very efficient.” He only gave as an explanation.

He was right. Jazz moved in a way that didn’t take advantage of her size and weight. She used a few too many movements and repositioning than she needed, and moved her extremities like she was a completely different build – maybe someone bigger and heavier, and he suspected that those Amazonians from the afterlife didn’t compensate for the fact that Jazz wasn’t as big as them.

Still, as the fight continued, Jazz moved faster and with more purpose, gracefully evading every attempt blondie made to get her on the training mat, and making the other eat shit every few hits.

When it was clear that Jazz’s actual training went beyond Bernard’s abilities, Tim called it off.

“Whew!” Jazz pulled back her loose hair, re-tying it in a low ponytail on the base of her head. “It has been a while.”

She looked radiant and barely had broken a sweat. Jason didn’t miss Bernard’s sideways look as she easily lifted him up with one hand, barely a hair out of place while he looked like he had been run over by a truck.

Jason chuckled as blondie switched places with Timmy, sitting down with the tablet, drinking from a water bottle he had brought down to the Cave.

“Alright,” Tim was all business, positioning himself on the training mat with a slight nod, “let’s see how you do against me.”

Jazz’s smile trembled a little, but she got ready again. This time her stance was more confident and her eyes ran over her opponent’s body looking for weaknesses.

Good.

“Begin.”

Tim didn’t immediately jump in, waiting to see what she would do. Jazz hesitated way too many times, giving the other enough opportunities to attack, but he stayed in place and only moved when Jazz tried to move closer.

Finally, she decided to make a leap, one hand ready to grab Tim’s shoulder. He was ready — Jazz telegraphed her moves way too much, making it easy to anticipate and counterattack. Still, Tim allowed her to get a grasp of his shirt before kicking her legs under her.

Her body slammed against the mat, knocking the air out of her lungs.

She giggled. “I had that one coming. Again?”

Jason watched her stand back up again, all smiles and a spring on her step. She liked this. She enjoyed fighting. And she was good at it, he conceded, given how quickly she adapted to her new opponent with a tiny smile on her lips.

Tim was fast, probably the fastest after Cass, and he was on the leaner side. It was a good idea to pair him up against Jazz since he could show her a more efficient way to use her body to her advantage.

In the second round, Tim held back a little bit less. He attacked first, already prepared to counter Jazz when she dodged him. She followed this time, ready for his quick kicks and keeping her feet firmly on the ground. Her grab was successful this time around, and she managed to throw the other over her shoulder with ease.

Tim recovered mid air and grabbed her as well, but she was catching on to his strategies and forced her way out of his arms in time.

They circled each other, analyzing each other’s movements.

Jason saw the moment Tim decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. Jazz could clearly keep up, and while her training wasn’t up to their standards, she was good.

Tim lunged forward again, breathing controlled, performing a series of quickfire movements meant to overwhelm their opponent. Jazz blocked each one of them, and dodged the ones that she couldn’t block. She redirected, blocked and sidestepped as fast as Tim was dealing the blows, her speed increasing with the young man’s frustration when he couldn’t land a single hit.

Jazz was huffing, but her face remained focused on what was happening. Her speed turned inhuman the more the fight continued on. Was this how fast she had to learn to fight against ghosts?

Jason crossed his arms, watching her move with keen eyes. She was turning more efficient, adapting, dancing on the training mat with the other vigilante, keeping up with every movement. It was… beautiful.

He heard a gasp next to him, turning to look at what was happening to Bernard. He found him red to the roots of his hair, one hand fanning his face, eyes fixed on Tim.

Jason wanted to roll his eyes, but in his heart of hearts understood that there was a primal feeling there as he watched Jazz fight so hard, her muscles tense as she moved with precision.

He almost didn’t notice Tim’s sideways glance at his boyfriend, it was so quick and easy to miss, but Jazz got her chance and landed her first actual punch on Tim… launching him all the way to the other side of the training room and into a pile of boxes.

“Oh no!” She shouted, running towards the fallen vigilante. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t — I should have been more careful.”

The others, who had stopped to watch the display, joined Jason and Bernard as they approached Tim as well.

“I’m fine,” he groaned, trying to sit up amidst the chaos of broken cardboard boxes and the fabrics that were stored in them, “give me a minute.”

“I’m sorry…” Jazz kept mumbling, hands hovering over the other, as if she wanted to help but wasn’t sure if she was allowed to.

“It’s okay — ugh,” Tim had one hand over his stomach, where the punch had hit, “I should have paid more attention.”

Jason rolled his eyes again, ignoring Bernard and Tim’s meaningful glance. Ridiculous.

He grabbed Jazz’s arm and pulled her closer. “If he says he’s fine, then it’s fine. Don’t sweat it, darling.” He murmured close to her ear.

He felt her shiver, but she nodded and looked up at him, breathing heavily. “What do you think?”

Jason walked her back to where she had put down her water bottle and picked it up for her. He stalled, making a face like he had to think hard about what to say, enjoying her nervously sipping water while trying to act like she wasn’t affected by his opinion.

“You fight good.” He shrugged. “But you have a long way before you can take me.” He pointed his thumb at himself, puffing out his chest.

“That's what he said!”

Jason growled at Tim, who was watching them with a grin so wide and so stupid he wanted to punch right there right then.

***

Jason had barely stepped into the Cave when he heard Jasmine scream in pain.

“She’s with Timmy.” Dick didn’t look up from the documents he was reviewing next to the Batcomputer. “They’ve been at it all afternoon. Relax.”

“She’s fine.” This time it was Duke, eyes glued to the screen, as if the echoing hits and screams were barely more than background noise. “He’s been beating the shit out of her but she gets back up every time.” He pursed his lips in a pseudo-smile. “Respect.”

Jason’s instant reaction to go check what the hell Tim was doing to his girlfriend was stopped in its tracks by the nonchalant way those two behaved. Like it was old news. Like this wasn’t the first time Jazz got beaten up by the vigilante.

He almost expected to get mad. To feel the anger creep into his senses, thinking that they just didn’t care about her, that now that the novelty of the family’s black sheep’s beloved had passed she could become just another sacrificial lamb for the Cause.

But it didn’t happen. Maybe it was the knowledge that Jazz had proven capable of standing her ground against a Bat; maybe it was how her voice didn’t sound scared when she talked about her time at the Cave; maybe, just maybe, it was the way Jazz never mentioned a bad thing every time they discussed her training with the others.

Or it was all of that and the small smile curving Dickolas’ lips as he watched him clench and unclench his fists, waiting to see what he would do.

He decided to just huff and walk towards the training mat, not gracing them with any other response.

“Okay, I have to ask,” Jason could almost taste Timmy’s frustration, “you said you were good with the staff. That it is your main weapon.”

“And it is!” Jazz huffed.

“Why do you suck so much with your balance, then.” The other growled.

Jason walked into Tim softly hitting Jazz’ left foot further to the side, then another tap to her right hand. She immediately corrected, annoyed, looking at her extremities as if they were betraying her.

“And your range is all wrong, too.”

“I—”

“Again.” He didn’t wait for an answer.

Jason knew they knew he was there, watching, but he didn’t make any noise and let them do their thing. Tim had ended up taking Jazz under his wing so to speak — between their similar build and weapon of choice, and because he had recently done the same training for Bernard, he was the smartest choice.

He had to admit, the kid was good. A good fighter and a good teacher, if what he knew from Jazz and the other’s words was true.

Once again, Jazz ended up falling on her butt, her wooden staff flying out of her hands.

She huffed a stay lock of hair out of her face.

“I think I know what’s going on.”

She got back up and walked towards the other end of the training mat, knelt beside her gym bag and withdrew something shiny and metallic. She did something with her hand and extended the weapon — her staff. Jason vaguely remembered her using it to threaten Batman, and then while fighting the Spirit, but he never really paid attention to the weapon itself.

“This is what I use,” she twisted it around, walking back to Tim. “It’s a version of the one my mother… Maddie trained me with the staff, before.” Neither commented on how her voice got a little rough for a moment. “But then Danny and the others helped me modify one for all the things I’d need.”

“Can I?”

She nodded. “Is a bit heavy.” She warned, passing it on.

Jason watched Tim stumble forwards a little bit when she dropped it on his hands. “I see what you mean.” He frowned, re-balancing himself. He did a few test moves, clicking his tongue. “Then we need to train with this one.”

“Also…” Jazz trailed off, hand on her chin.

“Yeah?”

Jason leaned in. Dick and Duke stopped pretending they were working and turned to watch.

“Technically, it is a staff. But…”

The other nodded, giving the weapon back. Jazz nodded back, twirling her staff, breathing in.

“It also has a spear mode” — she clicked something and the top opened up and morphed into a red spear — “which is what I actually trained with the Amazons. I’m more used to the blade, if that makes sense?”

“Uh-huh.” Tim watched the new development, thinking.

“And then there’s War Mode.”

Without prompting, she clicked something else and the spear twisted itself further upwards, the staff opening up again to let side blades slide upwards, encasing the longer spear tip. It looked sharp and deadly, and Jazz seemed comfortable twisting and flipping the weapon around her body in practiced moves. Jason could see her in her armor charging into battle, pushing and slicing her enemies with the War Mode spear.

He quietly cleared his throat, but she heard him.

Giggling, Jazz made one more flourish just to show off, finishing with a strong slam against the floor like she did when confronting the Spirit of Gotham. Again, a wave of her power spread from the point of impact, less strong than what he felt back the other night, but still enough to push him back a little.

The Batcave lights flickered for a moment before everything turned off, including the computer. In the seconds before the backup generator kicked in, Jason saw something green in his field of vision.

When the power was back on, he realized he was looking at the apologetic smile of his girlfriend, trying to make her body look small in shame.

***

Duke decided he enjoyed the company. Jazz and he hadn’t had a lot of time together so he wasn’t sure how to approach his part of training, but she was easy to talk to and smiled freely.

Definitely not what he expected Jason’s girlfriend to be, but in a weird way, it made sense.

“Race you to that wall!” He shouted over his shoulder, confident that Jazz was able to hear him and see what wall he was referring to.

Duke ducked under some tubes on the building’s rooftop, playfully tapping on the metal. Almost a second later, he heard her make the same noise, hot on his heels.

Okay, let’s see what she has learned so far, he thought, preparing to make the jump to the next rooftop, bending his knees with practiced ease. He glanced back, seeing her land slightly off-balance, but it didn’t affect her speed. Instead, she picked up her pace and made it to run besides Signal. Impressive.

He watched her breathing hard trying to keep up, but she wasn’t a sweaty mess he expected her to be. Free running like vigilantes do is an amount of cardio that civilians couldn't master as fast as Jasmine was doing, but he expected that, being liminal and all. And apparently, the Princess of the Realm of the Dead.

Still, she didn’t have what it takes to win against a gothamite in their own turf. Duke smiled and made a sharp turn around an AC unit, rushing to the fire escape stairs and using the railings as a gymnastic bar to propel the extra distance to the last rooftop.

He turned, finding Jazz frozen in place, blinking at his move. She looked down at the fire escape stairs railing and back to where Duke was watching her, calculating.

He could see Dick’s training in the way she prepared her body and swung upwards, but her landing still needed a lot of work.

Regardless, she was a great student. He let her know so.

Her answering smile was radiant. “Thank you!” She controlled her breathing. “But there’s still a lot to learn.”

Duke hummed, shuffling his feet. In his opinion Jazz was almost ready to take on her mission, but of course the final verdict was Bruce’s. As much and everybody hated it, B was still Batman and they referred to his opinion when it affected all of Gotham.

If only he did the same with them, Duke thought, still bitter about how he kept him and Cass in the dark when he confronted Jazz. Bruce was his mentor, but that didn’t justify how he acted then.

Sometimes he wondered how things would have been if Bruce didn’t make a rash decision and confronted her like he did. Would Jason have introduced her to the others? Would Jazz and Danny open up like they did? Maybe it was a blessing in disguise to have everything out in the open — Jazz and Jason were cute, but dating one of the city heroes is at the very least a huge risk, and someone like Jason needed someone like Jazz to support him and keep up with the craziness.

“I can hear you thinking from here. Everything ok?”

There she was. Jazz offering a chance to talk about emotions. Maybe this was what Jason liked about her?

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I just think you are a godsend.”

Jazz blushed and looked away, but didn’t say anything.

“Really. It’s just…” he made a gesture that encapsulated her body. “Maybe you were what this family needed.”

Her face twitched into something Duke didn’t expect. “Why do you think that?”

“You brought Jason back — the family back. You don’t know how bad things were before you came along… Bruce really can’t communicate well and even though everybody knew he was worried about Jay it’s like,” he chuckled, rubbing his face, trying to find the correct words. He looked at the city, hearing the noises of Gotham going about their normal day. “Jason is happy. I didn’t know him before everything happened, but every time we met he was angry and bitter and, and you — you fixed him. I don’t know how you did—”

“Is that what all of you think?”

Duke blinked, confused. When he looked back at her, she had a difficult expression on her face. Angry, sad, disappointed. What did he say to get this reaction?

“What—”

“Do you all think this about him — about us?” Somehow Duke felt like she was holding back tears. “That I fixed him?”

“Yes— No? I don’t know?” He extended a hand, but Jazz stepped back. “I think you are a cool person and it doesn’t hurt that Jason is not angry all the time anymore.”

Jazz blinked, dumbfounded by his answer. She opened her mouth but nothing came out of it and she closed it again.

“Hey…”

“How could you say that?” Her voice was weak. She took another step back. “Do you even— Jason is—” something dangerous sparked green in her eyes and her aura.

“Jazz?” He tried approaching again.

Jazz lifted her hands, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were their usual teal, but it had edges that hadn't been there before.

“I’m not ‘fixing’ anything here. People don’t get ‘fixed’. Not Jason, not Bruce, and definitely not ‘fixing’ the mess of PTSD and trauma rampant in the costumed vigilantes of this city. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Understood?”

“Uh-huh.” Duke had never heard her speak like this before. Or looks this mad.

“What Jason decides to do with his family is not up to me. Don’t paint me like some kind of manipulative girlfriend—”

“I did not—”

“Yes! Yes, you did. Jason is who he is and he’s an amazing person and amazing boyfriend. I love how hard he tries and how much he loves — and that is the Jason I wish you knew. But I…” She stepped further back, glancing at their surroundings like a cornered animal. “I need to go. Thank you for today.”

He nodded, but couldn’t say anything when she turned and ran towards the way they came from.

What the hell had just happened?

---

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[zorlok-if]

would love to hear more about your process! i also have insane adhd brain but i Hate coding and im always like how do i unlock the forbidden enjoyable coding experience..

Well then, welcome behind the curtain! (Sorry, it's a fucking mess back here.) Can't promise that this is a magical coding panacea, but it's what helps/works for me. 😊

An Exploration of How Albie Codes:

So, for my particular flavor of ADHD brain, my biggest issue when coding is keeping track of my variables. Gods, I love a variable, but I'll quickly and easily lose track of what I called my variables, where I called them, why I called them, and what I intended to do with them after calling them. My brain also tends to jump between hobbies/special interests/projects. Between that and a busy job, I might leave code unattended for a while. When I come back, I have to make sense of what schemes my brain concocted.

So, to help with these things, I have one spreadsheet per game where I track every variable that I set. That isn't hyperbole. For every single variable I track what I called it, where I set it (especially if it can be in multiple places), every value it can have, and what I intended to do/signify with it. I'll go into detail about this spreadsheet below and share a template version later. First, I'll explain my usage of objects and arrays (because they feature heavily in my spreadsheets).

When I started coding IF, I'd just set a bunch of unique variables. To cut down on variable/system bloat and keep myself more organized, I devised a system reliant upon objects and arrays.

Object variables—if you don't know—are variables that can have numerous properties (so, in effect, it's variable inception). Each main character and section of the story gets its own object variable ($dev, $dog, $har, $pro, $ep1, etc.). The rest of the cast's info is held in one object ($x, which breaks down into properties like $x.elena, $x.jin, $x.sally, etc.). This means that almost all non-object variables are temporary. So, when I'm testing, if I see that a temp variable is active, I know it needs to be unset or that data needs stored in an object. Like, if $brokeArm is true, I'll do $pro.mem.push("brokeArm"), unset $brokeArm. This stores a memory of the fact that Z broke their arm in the prologue-memory object and eliminates that unique variable.

To demonstrate, in Zorlok the MC's data is all stored in the $z object. Tommy's is stored in the $tom object. This is what they look like in the StoryInit passage (notably, with extensive notes in the Tommy one, I leave a lot of notes for myself in my code):

So, when I'm writing about Zorlok, I'll type $z.they and that will print Zorlok's subject pronoun. If I want to know if Tommy believes in God or not, I can say <<if $tom.thinks.includes("realGod")>>God's real, folks.<<else>>God is a lie.<</if>>

This gets into my next main strategy: Arrays. I use arrays to store collections of data instead of having a bunch of unique variables.

The hellhound's unique stats? $dog.tags (values can include: mammal, fly, teeth, bite, scary, cute, fluffy, etc.)

The things that happened in the prologue? $pro.mem (values can include: tomPassive, claraHair, noTea, believedHar, gotSlimed, demonAttack, etc.)

The information that Zorlok has unlocked? $unlock.info (values can include: vesselTerm, noEatSleep, hellBroken, cannotDie, susDemManip, susKilledVessel, etc.)

This is a lot to keep track of, and it would be impossible to keep track of without my spreadsheet (aka, my beloved). Forewarning, these are a real chore to setup if you are trying to create one for a story you're already working on, but they are so helpful! I genuinely don't know what I'd do without it. If you are working on a big Twine game, you don't have to follow my method, but I promise that keeping track of your variables in some way will make your life so much easier when coding.

This is what my spreadsheet looks like:

This is the sheet tracking my StoryInit values. You'll see that I have a column for what the variable is called, what type of variable it is (not really necessary, but I do it anyway), all the values it can have, and the purpose of that variable. For variables with really expansive values, you'll see that I have links to other sheets within this spreadsheet that go into further detail. Now this is the sheet that tracks all of my prologue variables:

Here I track the variable, the type of variable, whether it's permanent of temporary (with temporary ones highlighted in yellow), the values it can have, the meaning, where it first appears, and where it's unset. In this sheet you can also see one of my favorite temp variables, $react, make an appearance. $react is quite simply for temporary reactions. It can hold any number of values but it normally doesn't last or stay the same over multiple passages. This is how I do a lot of flavor text/minor choices (though sometimes the link that will set which reaction the game shows on the next passage will also push a memory into the prologue array, in those cases it's cause not all of the choices have lasting consequences/impressions).

Now, what you may have been waiting for, how do I do character customization? Objects and arrays, you are correct. Let's take a look.

Oh, do my eyes deceive me, $z.hair? Is that an object within an object? Indeed, it is. The chaos grows (as it always must). It isn't really necessary for me to do objects within objects (within objects, in some cases). I could use individual properties like $z.hairStyle instead of $z.hair.style, but having the $z.hair object helps me keep it more organized in my head.

Anyways, you can see just how minutely I have tracked every value, and (in the cases of integers) what the integer values indicate. By doing them as integers, it allows me to do things like <<if $z.height gt 3>>You duck as you enter the room. <</if>> or <<if $z.str gte 1>>The door gives way.<<else>>The door holds fast.<</if>>

By having multiple arrays for things like prosthetics and gender affirming procedures, it allows me to easily check what prosthetics or procedures the vessel has, <<if $z.prost.includes('ra') or $z.prost.includes('la')>>, but then I can print the prosthetic without having to write it out or do extra coding. <<print $z.prosthetic[0]>>.

Now, remember how I mentioned the $dog.tags? Let me show you how I keep track of something like that (this is stored in the Hellhound Information sheet):

So, if I want to know if the Hellhound can fly, I can just go <<if $dog.tags.includes("fly")>>. If I want to know if people are gonna react to it in a significant way, I can go <<if $dog.tags.includes("cute")>>"Aw, $dog.name is adorable! I love <<print $dog.breedName>>s."<<elseif $dog.tags.includes("scary")>>"Shit, seriously?! That's your //pet?// You have a pet //$dog.breedName?"//<<else>>"Oh. Cool."<</if>>

The way I see it, this is the simplest way to do all this stuff. It's just a matter of keeping track of it and keeping my records up to date (which has become habit at this point, I never have Twine up without having my spreadsheet up).

Here are some other notable sheets:

With the $pro.mem values in that third screenshot, this is the main way that I keep track of what happens in the prologue. If I want to know how Tommy reacted to Harlow and entered the summoning scene, I just go <<if $pro.mem.includes("leftSure")>>Tommy believed Harlow and knows that the ritual is going to work.<<elseif $pro.mem.includes("leftUnsure")>>Tommy isn't sure whether this ritual is going to work.<<else>>Tommy and Harlow didn't part on good terms, but he's going to give this nonsensical "ritual" a try.<</if>>

That's all I can think to say right now. I hope all of this makes sense. If you'd like to know more/if I haven't explained something well, let me know. Like I said, I'll share a template version of my variable tracking spreadsheet in a reblog, so look out for that! 😊

[madamsnape921]

Phone Help

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

WC: 2557

Warning: f/f smut; I really went out of my comfort zone for this one but I think it turned out okay; my husband deserves a shout out for his help of writing this one: Thank you, Nick!

Tags: @alwaysachorusgirl @beccabarba @storiesofsvu

You had just started your first month at Quantico, not exactly your dream job but it provided a steady income and federal benefits. It was a relief to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in the city after your recent relationship ended. However, the agents were a challenge. They were arrogant, thinking they were the ultimate saviors, and their actions reflected that attitude.

“YN?”

As you snap out of your self-absorbed tirade, you notice one of the top members from the Behavioral Analysis Unit standing in front of you, looking just as perplexed as you feel. Why is she here? You wonder to yourself.

“Yes, Agent…?” you look for a nametag.

“Prentiss. Emily Prentiss. I am with the BAU. So, hey. Our normal tech person is not keen on doing our personal phones. She mentioned I should come to the new girl, which I am assuming is you, to help me?”

You despised phone work. Actually, you loathed it. But you knew that earning some brownie points with a senior agent could be beneficial in the future. So, you forced yourself to answer the call and politely responded, "Of course, Agent Prentiss. What can I assist you with?"

“The phone is acting slow and I can’t seem to find any of my files,” she hands you a card. “YN, here is my work number. Call me when you figure it out?”

“Sure. I’ll look at it here and then I’ll see what I can…,” you started. 

I'd rather not use agency time or equipment for this task. The data on my device is personal and I don't want anyone else to have access to it. One of my close friends happens to be a top-notch hacker, so she probably has something lurking around in there.”

Prentiss gave a nod and then exited your office. She walked away with ease, her sensible pantsuit moving smoothly with each step.

After a grueling day at work, you finally reach your apartment. Your fingers are still warm from typing on the keyboards as you touch the doorknob. You step inside and are greeted by your faithful feline companions. "Sorry guys, Mom has to fix a friend's phone."

A friend's phone? That was unexpected, you thought.

You pour yourself a glass of wine and sit down at your computer, confident that this task will not take too much time. All I need to do is scan the phone for any harmful files and reinstall everything. It should be a piece of cake, you think to yourself. After completing the scan and finding everything to be in order, you give Agent Prentiss a call, relieved by the ease of the process.

“Hey, Agent Prentiss, it’s YN. Your phone is finishing up now. If you want to head down I can text you my address.”

“YN, that would be fantastic! Thank you for being so efficient,” Prentiss exclaimed. “I'll be at your residence in 15 minutes.”

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“I’m with the government. I know everything,” Prentiss joked.

After completing the scan, you realize that there is an issue. The program alerts you to the presence of a malicious app on the phone, Calculator PlusPlus. You launch the app and it prompts for a password. Using your own knowledge, you successfully crack the password and let out a triumphant laugh, "Take that, Penelope."

The next thing you see are numerous pictures of nude women, all with the same hair color and style as you. This must be what's taking up all the storage space on the phone, along with all of the data. You panic when you hear a knock at the door.

“YN, it’s Emily. I’m here about my phone,” Prentiss called from the hall.

DOUBLE SHIT. MINIMIZE MINIMIZE MINIMIZE! SHIT it’s frozen. SHITSHITSHIT.

“YN, I thought it was ready,” Prentiss knocked again. 

After hearing a knock at your door, you call out "Coming!" and get up to answer it. You open the door to see Agent Prentiss standing there.

"Hey there, Agent Prentiss. Please come in," you say with a smile, dressed in your comfortable lounge pants and cat mom tank top.

“Please call me Emily, we’re not at work.” You close the door behind her, her in the same suit from work.

“Please sit. Do you want something to drink?” you offer. 

“I’ll have a beer. It’s been hell with the BAU.” She sits on your couch and begins to pet one of your cats. “Beautiful cats, YN!”

“Thanks, they’re my babies,” you smile.

You grab the beer from the fridge and pop it open, handing it to Prentiss. As you both relax and chat about work and other small talk, an hour and a half quickly passes by. Suddenly, you remember something and say, "Oh, your phone! It's in my room. I'll go get it for you."

Upon entering your room, you find the computer still frozen on a picture of a nude woman. The figure resembles you, but not entirely. It's almost like a lower-quality version of yourself. You are immediately jolted by the realization that these intimate images are displayed prominently on your oversized screen.

“Oh, I see you found the Calculator PlusPlus App…,” Prentiss whispered.

“OH MY GOD! I AM SO SORRY. I was trying to find any malicious apps and I cracked this one’s code and…. I wasn’t snooping. I promise,” you apologised.

“I believe you, but you know what this means, right” Prentiss scowled.

“No…,” you said in response.

Prentiss puts her hand on her gun holster, “I’ll have to kill you to keep my secret safe.”

The room fell silent, and Prentiss let out a chuckle. "Just kidding," she said with a smirk. "Just put them back and don't tell anyone. I have a type...smart, dark-haired girls like yourself."

The phone was too easy to fix. Would she… she wouldn’t.

Prentiss gently brushed your hair and whispered, "We can keep another secret just between us, if you'd like." Your face paled as she tenderly kissed your lips. You had never been with a woman before, let alone one as stunning as her. Feeling unsure of yourself, you tentatively kissed her back, unsure of what to do next.

“Do you want to do this, YN?”

You nod your head.

Prentiss continued to kiss you softly. Mostly on the center of your mouth, but then switching to the left and the right sides, keeping you guessing. You felt yourself become weak in the knees. 

“Let’s sit on the bed, YN.”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss.”

You both sat on the bed and continued to kiss. Prentiss’ hands exploring your body. Your mind and your arms begin to open up.

“Good girl, YN. Take off my jacket.”

You obey the orders given to you, carefully removing her jacket and placing it on the chair next to the bedside table. She sits there, still wearing a sleeveless blouse and her gun holster.

“Now take off your top, YN.”

You cautiously remove your top, wondering how she has such control over you. Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air, and the intense energy in the room causes your nipples to harden. Suddenly, a soft yet firm suction envelops your left nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You've had boyfriends do this before, but never a woman. Prentiss continues to knead and suck on your breast while gently stroking your hair, creating an overwhelming sense of bliss.

Prentiss stopped and moved to the other breast. It was just as amazing. However, you where brought out of bliss with a sharp bite. “Ow,” you moaned.

“Pay attention,” Prentiss stated.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you moaned again.

Prentiss finished with that breast and stood up and removed her shirt, bra, and gun holster. “Now you do me,” she smiled.

You attempted to replicate Prentiss’ actions on her, but your efforts fell short. Prentiss chuckled and giggled as you struggled, until you accidentally bit down too hard. She stopped and got up. You panicked.

“Pants off. Now!” Prentiss ordered.

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you jumped to your feet and stripped. She stood there and watched you sit back on the bed.

“Lay back.” You did as you were told. “Now don’t cum until I say or I will have to leave. Understand?”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss,” you sigh. 

Prentiss flashed a sly smile before sinking to her knees. From this new vantage point, she spotted a drawer slightly open and couldn't help but peek inside. She found a small vibrating wand tucked away and placed it beside her feet. Starting at your thighs, she lavished kisses leading up to your glistening womanhood. You let out a soft moan as she got closer to your sensitive areas. With deft fingers, she parted your lips and exposed you fully to the world. "I bet your ex never did this," she said with a hint of smugness. "And I guarantee it won't be this good with anyone else."

Prentiss pressed her tongue against the sensitive spot above your clit, applying a constant and firm pressure. At the same time, she used her thumbs to press into your lips, causing a rush of sensation to flood through your body. It was a new experience for you, and you couldn't help but gasp in response. With a smile, Prentiss continued her oral exploration, slowly moving down from the flat spot towards your hood. She flicked her tongue gently against your hood, alternating between soft and medium pressure while also pulsing on your opening and lips. Your moans of pleasure grew louder with each movement she made.

“Don’t cum, YN. Don’t be a bad cadet!”

“Yes, Agent Prentiss, I will be a good cadet.” Cadet, where did that come from?!

Prentiss started licking your clit. This licking was a continued game of alternate pressures and circular licking. You hear a vibrator turn on.

SHIT! SHE FOUND MY STASH!

Prentiss moaned. 

“You naked girl, spread out for me, huh?” She did two licks around your clit. “Mmm, who’s wearing the pants, cadet?”

“You are, Agent Prentiss.”

“And who is the naked slut, cadet?”

“I am the naked slut, Agent Prentiss.”

“Who’s in command of this pussy, cadet?” 

“Agent Prentiss is the commander of this pussy.”

Prentiss then takes the vibrator and places it firmly on your clit. You start to buck. You are so close. You don’t want her to leave. Prentiss then takes two fingers and slides them into you, putting sudden and strong pressure on you G-Spot.”

“What do you want, cadet?”

“To cum, Agent Prentiss.”

“You may cum, as long as you ask nicely.”

“May I cum, Agent Prentiss?”

“Nicer.”

“May I please cum, Agent Prentiss?”

With that she presses hard against your clit with the vibrator and your g-spot with her fingers. You quake as a hard, loud, and wet orgasm rolled through you. You feel shaking and the last thing you see before passing out is a smiling Prentiss.

You came to and found Prentiss taking her phone from your computer. She is now fully dressed.

“How long was I out?”

“Thirty seconds or so. I got you a glass of water. It’s on your table. I’m going to leave, wheels up in the morning.”

“If you need any more phone help, let me know.”

“Oh, next time I need phone help I’ll make sure you do all the work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can feel every thrust deep inside you. Each one makes a distinctive thud and shlick sound. Your orgasm is building, getting closer with every movement. You tightly grip onto the strapon as it fills you up. Nothing has ever felt as unyielding and solid as this before. The plug in your backside grinds against the bright red toy, adding to the intense pleasure of being penetrated.

“Come for me, Cadet.” Prentiss demanded.

You feel the grip of orgasm squeeze you tightly and pleasure erupts from within your core. Your body trembles and shivers as a powerful orgasm overcomes you. As it subsides, you take a moment to catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you exclaimed with gratitude.

"Rocking a holster isn't the only thing I'm good at," Prentiss replied with a sly grin on her face.

She gently pulls out your plug and carefully cleans you up with a towel from the bedside table. You thank her with a smile as she helps you stand up and put on a robe. Prentiss starts to get dressed, putting on her panties first before reaching for her pants.

“Why don’t we spend the day together? We can watch a movie?” You suggested.

“YN, we just finished fucking… you don’t need to ask me for a “movie” to watch,” she laughed.

“No really, Emily, stay with me.”

You two have been fucking feverishly and often in a kinky mist of desire and need for a few weeks at this point. Emily was not an odd name to call her, but it was new. You didn’t know if you should call her that or Prentiss.

“Why? We both finished and I’m sure you’re busy today. As am I.” Prentiss declared.

“Actually, it’s Saturday… at 11 am. I’m off today. Aren’t you? Or am I a lunchtime snack?” you smiled.

“You’re definitely satisfying my appetite,” she replied with a coy smile.

I stood up from the bed and handed her a shirt.

“So, we have underwear and shirts covered… I’ll grab some drinks. You can choose the movie.” You suggested.

Prentiss strolled into the living room and switched on Netflix while you headed towards the kitchen. You grabbed her favorite European beer from the fridge, excited for the chance to surprise her. Balancing both beverages in your hands, you made your way back to the couch where Prentiss had already pulled up "Une vie de chat," a French cartoon about a cat.

You sit down and offer her the beer.

“Thank you! This is my favorite beer! It’s only at that one German store downtown. How’d you know?”

“You mentioned it once. I thought it’d be a nice treat,” you smiled.

As the cat's misadventures unfold, you realize that you and Prentiss have gravitated towards each other on the spacious couch. You rest your head on her shoulder as you continue to watch the show together.

As she begins to say, "This is my favorite..." you rest your head on her shoulder. Emily grins and gently kisses the top of your forehead. It's a new experience for both of you, but it feels natural and perfect in that moment. Your stomach flutters with excitement, but it's a pleasant sensation that matches the rhythm of your heart. It's a mix of thrilling and serene feelings all at once.

"Emily, this is really nice," you say with a smile.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, YN. It's been a while since I've felt this relaxed. I could definitely get used to this," she replies, returning the smile.

"I have a proposition for you. In here, I have my Emily and in there..." you start, but she interrupts with a knowing smile.

"...you have Agent," she finished your sentence. You try to hide in her embrace, but she finds you anyway.

"Yes, YN, you can have your Emily out here and your Agent in there," she confirmed, snuggling into you as you both fall asleep watching TV together.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

It’s been twenty years since my Microsoft DRM talk

On THURSDAY (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. On FRIDAY (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel and a keynote at the LOCUS AWARDS.

This week on my podcast,This week on my podcast, I read my June 17, 2004 Microsoft Research speech about DRM, a talk that went viral two decades ago, and reassess its legacy:

https://craphound.com/msftdrm.txt

It's been 20 years (and one day) since I gave that talk. It wasn't my first talk like that, but at the time, it was the most successful talk I'd ever given. I was still learning how to deliver a talk at the time, tinkering with different prose and delivery styles (to my eye, there's a lot of Bruce Sterling in that one, something that's still true today).

I learned to give talks by attending sf conventions and watching keynotes and panel presentations and taking mental notes. I was especially impressed with the oratory style of Harlan Ellison, whom I heard speak on numerous occasions, and by Judith Merril, who was a wonderful mentor to me and many other writers:

https://locusmag.com/2021/09/cory-doctorow-breaking-in/

I was also influenced by the speakers I'd heard at the many political rallies I'd attended and helped organize; from the speakers at the annual Labour Day parade to the anti-nuclear proliferation and pro-abortion rights marches I was very involved with. I also have vivid memories of the speeches that Helen Caldicott gave in Toronto when I was growing up, where I volunteered as an usher:

https://www.helencaldicott.com/

When I helped found a dotcom startup in the late 1990s, my partners and I decided that I'd do the onstage talking; we paid for a couple hours of speaker training from an expensive consultant in San Francisco. The only thing I remember from that session was the advice to look into the audience as much as possible, rather than reading from notes with my head down. Good advice, but kinda obvious.

The impetus for that training was my onstage presentation at the first O'Reilly P2P conference in 2001. I don't quite remember what I said there, but I remember that it made an impression on Tim O'Reilly, which meant a lot to me then (and now):

https://www.oreilly.com/pub/pr/844

I don't remember who invited me to give the talk at Microsoft Research that day, but I think it was probably Marc Smith, who was researching social media at the time by data-mining Usenet archives to understand social graphs. I think I timed the gig so that I could kill three birds with one stone: in addition to that talk, I attended (and maybe spoke at?) that year's Computers, Freedom and Privacy conference, and attended an early preview of the soon-to-launch Sci Fi Museum (now the Museum of Pop Culture). I got to meet Nichelle Nichols (and promptly embarrassed myself by getting tongue-tied and telling her how much I loved the vocals she did on her recording of the Star Wars theme, something I'm still hot around the ears over, though she was a pro and gently corrected me, "I think you mean Star *Trek"):

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=4IiJUQSsxNw&list=OLAK5uy_lHUn58fbpceC3PrK2Xu9smBNBjR_-mAHQ

But the start of that trip was the talk at Microsoft Research; I'd been on the Microsoft campus before. That startup I did? Microsoft tried to buy us, which prompted our asshole VCs to cram the founders and steal our equity, which created so much acrimony that the Microsoft deal fell through. I was pretty bitter at the time, but in retrospect, I really dodged a bullet – for one thing, the deal involved my going to work for Microsoft as a DRM evangelist. I mean, talk about the road not taken!

This was my first time back at Microsoft as an EFF employee. There was some pre-show meet-and-greet-type stuff, and then I was shown into a packed conference room where I gave my talk and had a lively (and generally friendly) Q&A. MSR was – and is – the woolier side of Microsoft, where all kinds of interesting people did all kinds of great research.

Indeed, almost every Microsoft employee I've ever met was a good and talented person doing the best work they could. The fact that Microsoft produces such a consistent stream of garbage products and crooked business practices is an important testament to the way that a rotten organization can be so much less than the sum of its parts.

I'm a fully paid up subscriber to Ronald Coase's "Theory of the Firm" (not so much his other views):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theory_of_the_firm

Coase says the reason institutions exist is to enable people to work together with lowered "coordination costs." In other words, if you and I are going to knit a sweater together, we're going to need to figure out how to make sure that we're not both making the left sleeve. Creating an institution – the Mafia, the Catholic Church, Microsoft, a company, a co-op, a committee that puts on a regional science fiction con – is all about minimizing those costs.

As Yochai Benkler pointed out in 2002, the coolest and most transformative thing about the internet is that it let us do more complex collective work with smaller and less structured institutions:

https://www.benkler.org/CoasesPenguin.PDF

That was the initial prompt for my novel Walkaway, which asked, "What if we could build luxury hotels and even space programs with the kind of (relatively) lightweight institutional overheads associated with Wikipedia and the Linux kernel?"

https://crookedtimber.org/2017/05/10/coases-spectre/

So the structure of institutions is really important. At the same time, I'm skeptical of the idea that there are "good companies" and "bad companies." Small businesses, family businesses, and other firms that aren't exposed to the finance sector can reflect their leaders' personalities, but it's a huge mistake to ascribe personalities to the companies themselves.

That's how you get foolish ideas like "Apple is a good company because they embrace paid service and Google is a bad company because they make money from surveillance." Apple will spy on you, too, if they can:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Disney and Fox weren't Romeo and Juliet, star-crossed lovers making goo-goo eyes at each other across the table at MPA meetings. They were two giant public companies, and any differences between them were irrelevancies and marketing myths:

https://locusmag.com/2021/07/cory-doctorow-tech-monopolies-and-the-insufficient-necessity-of-interoperability/

I think senior management's personalities do matter (see, for example, the destruction of Boeing after it was colonized by sociopaths from McDonnell Douglas), but the influence of those personalities is much less important than the constraints that competition and regulation impose on companies. In other words, an asshole can run a company that delivers good products at fair prices under ethical conditions – provided that failing to do so will cost more in lost business and fines than they stand to make by cheating:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/24/record-scratch/#autoenshittification

Microsoft is a company founded and run by colossal assholes. Bill Gates is a monster and he surrounded himself with monsters, and they hired monsters to fill out the courts of their corporate palaces:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/14/patch-tuesday/#fool-me-twice-we-dont-get-fooled-again

To the extent that good things come out of Microsoft – some of its games products, the odd piece of hardware, important papers from MSR – it's in spite of the leadership; it's the result of constraints imposed by competition and regulation – and that's why Microsoft pursued such an aggressive program of extinguishing its competitors and capturing its regulators.

In retrospect, I think one of my goals in that talk was to convince those people doing good work for a rotten institution to go elsewhere and do other things. Certainly, that's one of the goals I pursue in the talks I give today. At the time, some of Microsoft's highest-profile technologists were publicly resigning over the company's war on free/open source software, so it wasn't an unrealistic goal:

https://web.archive.org/web/20030214215639/http://synthesist.net/writing/onleavingms.html

What I did not expect what that publishing the talk on my site and blogging it on Boing Boing would spark a wave of public interest that would get its message in front of several orders of magnitude more people than I spoke to at Microsoft that day. Partly, that was because I released the talk into the public domain, using the brand-new Creative Commons Public Domain Declaration (which was later replaced with the CC0 mark, due to legal issues withBu its drafting):

https://web.archive.org/web/20100223035835/http://creativecommons.org/licenses/publicdomain/

Some mix of the content of the speech, the spirit of the moment, and the novelty of that wide open license sparked a ton of interest. Jason Kottke recorded an audio version that Andy Baio hosted:

https://kottke.org/04/06/cory-drm-talk

My brutalist ASCII transcript was quickly converted to beautiful HTML by Matt Haughey and Anil Dash:

https://web.archive.org/web/20040622235333/http://www.dashes.com/anil/stuff/doctorow-drm-ms.html

For people who needed a hardcopy, there was Patrick Berry's printer-friendly stylesheet:

https://patandkat.com/pat/weblog/mirror/cory-drm/doctorow-drm-ms.html

Multiple people recorded (and sold!) audio versions, and then there were all the fan translations, into Danish, French, Finnish, German, Hebrew, Hungarian, Italian, Japanese, Norwegian, Polish, Portuguese (both EU and Brazilian), Spanish and Swedish. I stayed in touch with some of those translators, and they helped me translate the position papers I wrote for UN WIPO meetings. Those papers were so effective that ratfuckers from the copyright lobby started to steal them and hide them in the UN toilets (!):

https://web.archive.org/web/20041119132831/https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/archives/002117.php

Re-reading the speech for my podcast on Sunday, I expected to be struck by the anachronisms in it, and there were a few of those to be sure. But far more clear was the common thread running from this talk to other talks I gave that took on a significant life of their own, like my 2011 "War On General Purpose Computing" talk for CCC:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

And my work on Adversarial Interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

And my most recent work, on enshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/27/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse/

In other words, I've been saying the same thing – in different ways – for more than 20 years. That could be depressing, but I actually found it uplifting. Two decades ago, I was radicalized by a fear that the internet would be seized by corporations and governments and transformed into a system of surveillance and control. I found my way into a job at EFF, where I worked with colleagues across multiple disciplines – coders, lawyers and activists – to fight this force.

At the time, this was a fringe cause. Most of the traditional activists I'd come up with in the feminist, antiwar, antiracist, environmental and labour movement viewed digital rights as a distraction and dismissed its partisans as sad, self-obsessed nerds who mistook fights over the management of Star Trek message boards for civil rights struggles:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

I thought I was right then, and I think history has borne me out. The point of waging these fights – both in the wide public sphere and within political movements – is to get people activated before it's too late. Every day that goes by is a day when the internet becomes more inhospitable to political organizing for a better world – more surveillant, more controlling. I believed then – and believe today – that the internet isn't more important that the other fights I waged as a young activist, but I think that the internet is fundamental to those fights.

Saving the planet, smashing patriarchy, overthrowing tyranny and freeing labor are all fights that will be coordinated – Coase style – on the internet. Without a free, fair and open internet, those fights are infinitely harder to win.

The project of getting people to understand, care about, and fight for digital rights is a marathon, not a sprint. When I joined EFF, it was already 12 years old. There were six people in the org then (I was the seventh). Today, there's more than a hundred of us, and we're stretched so thin! The 30+ year old idea that internet policy will intersect with every part of every fight has been utterly vindicated.

Back in 2004, I asked Microsoft why they were willing to fight the US government to the death over antitrust enforcement, but were such wimps when confronted with the entertainment industry's demands for DRM. 20 years later, I think I know the answer: Microsoft understood that DRM would let them usurp the relationship between creative workers, entertainment industry companies, and audiences. Their perfect instincts for seeking out and capitalizing on opportunities to seize monopoly power drove them to make deliberately defective products, in the belief that their market power would let them cram those products down our throats:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/01/27/protect-your-investment-buy-open/

Here's a link to the podcast episode:

https://craphound.com/news/2024/06/16/my-2004-microsoft-drm-talk/

And here's direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_470/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_470_-_My_2004_Microsoft_DRM_Talk.mp3

And here's the RSS feed for my podcast:

https://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

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/2024/06/18/greetings-fellow-pirates/#arrrrrrrrrr

[typhlonectes]

A remarkable example of suspected Batesian mimicry of Gaboon Vipers by Congolese Giant Toads

Eugene R. Vaughan, Mark S. Teshera, Chifundera Kusamba, Theresa R. Edmonston, and Eli Greenbaum

Abstract

Batesian mimicry is a phenomenon in nature whereby a non-toxic animal emulates a noxious one, seeking to deter predators by deception. This type of mimicry occurs in many animals, with numerous documented examples of invertebrates, harmless squamates, and even birds that mimic venomous snakes. However, no observations of anurans mimicking venomous snakes have been reported. Based on comparative data from colour pattern, morphology, geographic distribution and behaviour, we propose that the Congolese Giant Toad (Sclerophrys channingi), endemic to Democratic Republic of Congo, is a Batesian mimic of the geographically widespread Gaboon Viper (Bitis gabonica). Although the colour pattern similarity between these taxa is not an exact match, aposematism and precise imitation are not required for Batesian mimicry to be effective, especially when the model (B. gabonica) is dangerously venomous and carefully avoided by other vertebrates. Given the morphological similarity between S. channingi and two other African toad species (S. brauni and S. superciliaris) that are sympatric with B. gabonica and its sister taxon (B. rhinoceros), similar examples of Batesian mimicry are likely.

Read the paper here: A remarkable example of suspected Batesian mimicry of Gaboon Vipers (Reptilia: Viperidae: Bitis gabonica ) by Congolese Giant Toads (Amphibia: Bufonidae: Sclerophrys channingi ) | Request PDF (researchgate.net)

Journal of Natural History 53(29-30): 1853–1871. (2019)

doi: 10.1080/00222933.2019.1669730

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Thinking of making this a little series, will be a fluff, bit of a slow burn, bodyguard trope?

You aren’t sure how you’d got through the last few hours.  Everything’s a blur as you try to think back of the horror that had occurred, now you’re now sat in an unfamiliar chair in an unfamiliar office. Your right arm is in a sling, shoulder throbbing somewhat from a reset dislocation, broken fingers splintered together on the same arm, medical tape holding a wound closed on your temple, disinfectant swiped across the numerous scrapes, your body aching with developing bruises on your legs, poking out from under your dress, from the fall down the stairs – the fall that apparently ended up saving your life from the unearthly creature that had rampaged through your workplace and tore your co-workers apart.

After being treated by a DSO medic, you’d been escorted by a tall, armed to the gills, annoyingly silent man. He’d confiscated your phone, despite the fact the screen was smashed and wouldn’t turn on, and taken you across the city to the main HQ, ushered up a side entrance into the room you now sat, told you to wait, and left you alone for what felt like hours.

The door eventually opens and a smartly dressed, pretty woman, hair pinned up in a bun and wearing glasses enters, immediately heading to the other side of the desk and taking what you assumed was her seat. A handsome man accompanied her, shaggy brown hair, dressed in cargo pants, fingerless gloves, knife strapped to his thigh, finished off with a leather jacket, a holster poking out from underneath. He gives you a sympathetic once over as he sits down besides you, careful not to brush your knee with his own as he does. Considerate.

“Were you given adequate pain medication?” The lady asks abruptly, beginning to type on her keyboard.

You stare at her a moment – she’s all business. “Er… Yeah. Thanks.” Though you’re sure the two of them have noticed the wince as you shuffled in your seat. The medic had offered you stronger stuff but you’d declined, wanting to keep your wits about you. “Sorry, what’s happening now?”

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, this is Agent Kennedy.” She nods to the man opposite her.

“Name’s Leon.” The man besides you offers his hand and you notice he’s adapted for your incapacitated arm, in what will surely result in a very awkward handshake but the gesture is nice. You take it, hoping the tremor in your grip isn’t so painfully obvious. “Hi. Erm, I’m-”

“Dove.” Hunnigan cuts you off. “I am aware of your identity, but we will be referring to you as Dove.”

“It’s a codename.” Leon explains, a little less business. “For your safety.”

Hunnigan pauses in her typing, hitting backspace slowly as she replies. “Agent Kennedy will be your protection detail until we get this mess squared up.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her choice of word, a sick feeling twisting in your stomach. “Mess? It was a massacre in there-”

“I know. We know.” The agent besides you stresses. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“Am I the only one who…?” You don’t know why you ask.

“I’m afraid so.” Hunnigan replies, a little softer in tone. “We’re going to send you to a safe house. Agent Kennedy will stay with you.”

“O-okay.” You nod, not taking it all in. “You… You think they’d send whatever that thing was after me?”

“That’s what we need time to establish.” Hunnigan replies. “From the CCTV, after the attack, there was a breach on the database. We need to establish how much data they managed to extract, if any. Agent Kennedy will keep you updated as much as he can when he receives any intel.” She turns more to him then, cutting you out of the conversation. “I’ll send the co-ordinates of the safe house when you’re out of the city. They’re loading up an SUV with supplies for at least a week. If it goes on longer, we’ll arrange a supply drop via another location.”

“That long?” You feel like you’re interrupting.

“Worse case scenario, Dove.” Leon offers you a smile. “I’m sure we’ll have you back home in no time. Did they send you away with any meds?”

“The medic sent in a report – with a treatment plan. It’s in the information pack, prescribed medicine is in with the supplies. Again, enough for a week.” Hunnigan replies. “I’ve arranged clothes too – medic guessed your size for me. We’ll be keeping your phone for now.”

“Why?”

“We can’t allow you to contact anyone – for your safety and theirs.”

Your heart skips a beat at that comment. “Wait… You think I might be behind this, don’t you?”

Hunnigan purses her lips. “It is an avenue we need to explore. There are questions as to why you alone survived. We will be dispatching a team to your residence once the two of you are out of the city to help in our investigation.”

“Again, that’s just protocol.” Leon tries to reassure, but your mind is whirling. “No-one is accusing you of anything, Dove.”

“I… I’ve worked here for years, I passed all the clearance checks. I wouldn’t, I didn’t…”

“As Agent Kennedy said, it’s just protocol. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing to fear.” Hunnigan resumes tapping away at the keyboard as she talks, pausing as the computer emits a ping. “SUV’s ready. I suggest you two go.”

Leon gets to his feet, once more offering his hand to help you to yours. He smiles, sympathetically, as he takes in your appearance – your face has lost what little colour it had.

“Time to go, Dove. It’ll be all right.”

You want to say no, you feel like you need to stay to plead your innocence, but you catch sight of the gun holstered by his side and the flame of defiance is extinguished. You take his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He places his hand on the small of your back to guide you back through the door and you can’t work out if it should feel like comfort or a threat.

--

You felt numb as Leon had escorted you to a large SUV with blacked out windows in an empty carpark. He’d opened the door for you, helped you climb in before hesitating.

“Need a hand with your seatbelt?”

You stare at him for a moment too long.

“Because of your arm, I mean.”

“Oh. Please.”

He leans over you, grabbing the seatbelt and clicking it into place.

“Right. Comfy?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Thanks.”

He nods, closes the door behind him – softly, you note, rather than a slam and it’s then you realise that you also can’t see out the windows. He hops up into the front, buckles his own seatbelt and starts the engine, swinging the SUV out of the parking space with ease. You can’t really see anything from where you’re sat, bar the back of his head and it must be deliberate.

“Hopefully it’s not too long of a drive.” He comments. “Had one that was a twelve hours’ away once and we are not allowed to stop for bathroom breaks.”

“Are you allowed to tell me how far away it is when you know?”

“Don’t see why not. Hunnigan will ping it through once we’re clear enough.”

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed when, eventually, the promised ping echoes around the car. You can hear him tap his fingers against something and he hums to himself.

“We’re in luck – about two hours away, Dove. Want some music on? Don’t have any CDs but got the radio.”

Maybe the music will help drown out how loud your heart is thudding in your ears. ”Yeah, sure.”

He fiddles with the dial – sound crackling around the car before it settles on some acoustic tune you don’t recognize. Must be some easy listening station.

“You can nap, if you like.”

“Maybe.” Though you’re not sure how you’ll ever sleep again after today.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, apart from the sound of the radio. You close your eyes a few times, leaning your head back against the seat but the creature seems burned into your retinas, haunting your vision.

“This is us.” Leon breaks the silence as you feel the car turn and he reduces the speed. He switches off the car and unclicks his seatbelt, turning back to face you. “Wait there just a moment, okay?”

“Yeah.”

 He smiles, opens his door and hops out, again closing the door softly behind him. What must be a few minutes later, your door opens and he once again offers his hand.

“Ready?

You unclip your seatbelt with your good hand before accepting his outstretched one, helping you step down from the SUV. You’re in a garage now of some sort – spacious enough to fit the car and what looks to be a chest freezer, washer and tumble dryer - the whole room illuminated by an orange bulb.

“So, we said safe house – seems more like a safe bungalow to me. I’ll give you the tour.” He gestures forward towards an open door and you walk forward, once again his hand falling to the small of your back. It leads through to a modest sized kitchen – usual white appliances and opens out into a living room with two couches, a coffee table and an entertainment unit with a television. There are two more doors along the wall, but what really strikes you is how small the windows all are, covered in thick panes of glass.

Bulletproof, you wonder.

“Bathroom’s this one,” he opens the door in demonstration, revealing a typical bathroom, before moving along. “And the bedroom.” It has a double bed, white linen sheets, a wardrobe and dresser. “Your bedroom,” he corrects. “I’ll be on the couch.”

“Oh. Is that comfortable?”

He smiles at your concern. “I’m pretty good at sleeping anywhere, but it looks comfortable enough. Speaking of, it’s pretty late so I think we should call it a night.” He ducks into the bathroom, pulling out a washbag from under the sink and empties the contents on the counter. “Standard toiletries kit to start us off. I’m gonna start bringing in the supplies. Sound good?”

You nod and he heads back towards the garage. You kick off your shoes before you step into the bathroom and close the door, twisting the lock closed. You use the facilities with some difficulty, your first visit since being an arm down, though thankful to be in a dress so as not to battle with trousers. After what some might call a best attempt of washing your hand, you pick up the toothbrush and immediately put it back down in annoyance as you realise you’ll need to deal with the toothpaste first. Thankful for the flip cap, the tube slips from your grip as you squeeze, shooting across the counter and knocking a glass off the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.

“Fu-” The word doesn’t even make it out of your mouth when the door is broken open, slammed against the wall and Leon is stood there, gun raised as you scream.

He scans the room with his eyes, concedes it’s clear and lowers his gun. “What happened? You okay?”

“I… I d-dropped the t-t-toothpaste and smashed the g-glass and…” Your breath catches in your throat again, tears burning in your eyes.

“Hey,” he holsters the gun on his thigh. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. Sorry for scaring you. I thought there was a window in here.”

He looks down at the broken glass that’s exploded over the floor and your sock-clad feet. “Sit down, all right? I’ll clear this up.”

“No, I s-should-”

“I can do it. Just sit, please. I’ll go grab a dustpan – they have one. Not my first safe house.” He soothes, heading off into the kitchen cupboards in search of it.

You sit down on the closed toilet seat lid and wonder bitterly if he’s at more safe houses than his own home. You take the moment to try and settle your breathing, your heart still pounding.

Leon appears at the door once more, grinning as he holds the dustpan and brush aloft in triumph. “Found it.” He crouches down, beginning to sweep up the glass. You watch in silence as he tackles the floor methodically, making sure to brush along each square of bathroom tile until he seems satisfied with his work.

“There. All done.” He places it to the side and grabs the troublesome toothpaste tube, before standing up to his full height. “So, this was the culprit, huh?”

You nod. “I don’t know what happened - the only difference was the toothbrush being on the counter, so I should be able to do it, just-”

He picks up the toothbrush and squeezes a blob of toothpaste on it. “On the house.” Leon jokes, offering it back to you. You stand up and accept it, hesitantly.

“I kinda feel pathetic.” You admit.

“Dove…” You’re getting a little used to the name now. It sounds nice off his tongue – soft and sweet. “You’ve had a shitty day, give yourself a break.”

“No, I mean, it just feels like you’re my servant or something – sweeping up, squeezing out my toothpaste...”

“To protect and serve’s the motto.” He smiles at your confused look. “I was a cop before I was an agent.”

“And this is the stuff you did as a cop?”

“Yes, alongside the helping old ladies with their groceries, helping ducks cross the street…” He teases, before nodding at the toothbrush in your hand. “I’ll leave you to it.”

After brushing your teeth without further incident and taking a few more moments to compose yourself, you exit the bathroom. Leon’s stood at the kitchen counter, paper bag in hand, looking at pill packets. There’s a couple of duffel bags near the garage door, one unzipped.

“Medical notes say it’s painkiller time, I’m afraid.” He grabs a glass from the cupboard, fills it up with water from the tap and places it down besides two white pills. “They’ve given you some sleeping tablets as well, but that’s up to you.”

“Do they stop you dreaming?”

Leon grimaces at your question. “From personal experience, yeah. No dreams.”

You hold out your hand. “Then I’ll take them.”

He nods, shaking another two pills out of a bottle and into his hand, picking up the other two and drops them in your hand. You open your mouth and throw them in, before accepting the glass of water, swallowing it all down.

“So, er, this is gonna be a little bit awkward, but I don’t know what you prefer to sleep in, obviously, but I’m assuming not that.”

“Oh. Yeah, no.”

“So, I pulled out a couple of things.” He nods towards the bedroom, where you can see some items of clothing laying out on the bed. He’s turned the bedside lamp on, the room softly illuminated in a white glow.

“You really are a safe house pro.”

“Ha, yeah.” He grins, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess my question is, do you need a hand with changing? 100% respectful offer, obviously.”

You nod. “Please.”

“Okay. After you.”

You walk into the bedroom, Leon keeping his distance this time. There’s an oversized t-shirt in the pile, looks like it will reach your knees. You pick it up with your good hand, clutching it close to your chest and turn to face him.

“Can you help with the sling?”

“Yep.” He nods – professional, unstrapping it with ease and removing it gently. “Afraid medic says you need to sleep with the sling for a week.”

“Mm.” You nod, hanging your arm down loose before turning around. “I guess if you could unzip and I’ll…”

“Got it.” He tugs down the zipper of your dress slowly – if it was some other encounter you’d say he was being a tease. He stops as he reaches the small of your back, just above your underwear. “What can I do now?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, but there’s no getting around it now. “Any good at undoing a bra? Professionally.”

“Professionally, yep.” You feel gentle fingers deftly unclasp it with ease.

“I think I’ve got it from now until the sling needs back on, so-”

“Say no more. Just call when you’re ready.”

The door closes behind you and you exhale, trying to compose yourself. It’s more months since a man had helped you out of a dress and this, after everything today and the situation you’re in, unsure if he sees you as victim or villain, shouldn’t be making you feel flustered.

Gingerly, you slip one arm out of the dress, followed by the other, wincing as you do so and allowing it to pool down at your feet. Next comes your bra, and then you gently pull the t-shirt over your head, again flinching as your shoulder smarts.

Decent, or decent enough, you call out. “Leon? I’m ready.”

“Coming in.” He announces, pausing a moment before opening the door and immediately moves to pick up the sling from where he placed it on the bed. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

With practiced hands, he positions your arm into the sling, adjusting it carefully and fastening it in place once more. “There. Feel okay?”

“Yeah.” You look him in the eyes then – beautiful, blue eyes, before fighting back a yawn. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “That will be the sleeping pills kicking in. I forgot to mention they’re real heavy duty.”

“Mm.” You sit down on the bed then, a little too heavily, before picking up your discarded dress on the floor. “Could you bin this?”

“Of course.” He takes it from you, no question. “Anything else I can do?”

“No. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking me, Dove. It’s all right – I told you, part of the job.”

“Still, thank you.” You mumble, head feeling heavy.

“Here,” he pulls back the covers as you scooch yourself back and lean your head back on the pillow, tucking the duvet in over you. “Arm still okay?”

You nod, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“I swear what happened wasn’t anything to do with me. I swear.”

“Shh,” Leon hushes. “I know.” He feels it in his gut, felt it since the moment he lay eyes on you in Hunnigan’s office. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll hear some updates. But, for now, just sleep. Okay, Dove?”

“Sleep, okay…” You mumble, closing your eyes.

Leon hovers a moment, noting the change in your breathing as the sleeping pills pull you under. He turns off the bedside lamp and leaves the bedroom, quietly, your dress clutched in his hand. He places it in the kitchen bin – there’s an incinerator round the back to erase all trace of their visit, but he’ll do that in the morning.

He makes his way over to the sofa and lies down, not even bothering to remove his boots.

He won’t be sleeping tonight.

-- Do let me know if you'd be interested in a part two! x EDIT: Part two!

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[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.

[lettuceeeee]

After seeing this post, I decided to use my last two braincells to share my thoughts.

After an hour spent on wikipedia's list of pistols, I eventually decided that Chuuya's gun is most likely a Heckler & Koch USP Expert.

H&K USP is semi-automatic and uses 9x19mm Parabellum bullets (aka 9mm), which are known to be pretty deadly and can penetrate the skull just fine.

Now, shots to the head are kinda unpredictable and surviving them is more often than not a lottery. While I tried my best to find out what would've most likely happened in Dazai's situation, I wasn't able to find much because of how unusual it is.

(I tried my best to align it as accurately as I could)

The part of the brain we want to look out for is the brain stem, which controls autonomic activities such as heartbeat and respiration among others. While in the picture above the straight trajectory of the bullet just barely misses the top of the brain stem, the actual damage will look much worse if the bullet goes through (Look up ballistic gel tests for reference) and most likely will injure the brain stem. If Dazai survives the injury, he can suffer from locked-in syndrome, memory loss, paralysis, severe breathing problems, strokes or brain death. If bleeding in the brain happens, Dazai will need to undergo an immediate operation. 25% of people make a full recovery through surgery and rehabilitation while 30% will die from their injuries.

Now to the reason I came up with this in the first place: there's no exit wound. Meaning the bullet is still inside. Bouncing around. Scrambling his brains as we speak. The skull is very cramped, belive it or not, and a bullet bouncing around in there does not do it any favours. The damage from the permanent cavity (the bullet track) is bad enough on its own, but the damage temporary cavity makes things a lot worse, as the shockwaves cause often irreversible damage. It doesn't help that Dazai jerks his head around quite a lot after being shot in it.

(Also yes, staying conscious after being shot in the head is possible, it has happened to real people before, head shots are unpredictable.)

If Dazai is very lucky however, the whole brain stem injury can be avoided. You see, the bullet trajectory I showed you is inaccurate. This is due to the fact that the skull is a hard, curved surface, which can affect the actual trajectory of the bullet. With a bit of luck, the bullet will avoid the brain stem, which will then suffer minimal damage (or yk it could bounce the other way and destroy his brain stem completely jkjk unless). The problem of it bouncing around and scrambling his brains still remains tho. Plus hemorrhages. Also the smaller the bullet, the higher the chance of scrambled brains.

The reason Dazai's case is so hard to predict is because of how unusual it is. First of all the distance. Literally who shoots like that to kill, also it will burn your flesh. The effective firing range of H&K USP is 50m. Then there's the fact that he was shot in the forehead. The frontal bone is considered to be one of the strongest parts of the skull, with the pterion being the weakest. Most of the gunshot wound tests focuse on the rest of the body, while the tests that have been done for the skull focus on the weak parts. Last but not least, Chuuya, hun, why are you using a gun in the first place. You can shoot bullets by throwing them. What do you need the gun for.

TLDR: Either dead or brain damaged imo

You guys I hate to break it to you but if there's no damage on the wall from the head bullet then there's no exit wound, which means the bullet is still inside, probably scrambling Dazai's brains

[gremoria411]

*The following contains spoilers for Mobile Suit Gundam G-Quuuuuux episode 4*

Okay so I’m apparently just gonna be a week behind on G-Quuuuuux. Oh well.

Alright, Shiiko Sugai, aka. The Witch, an Earth Federation Ace (Unicum?) from the One Year War. First of all, love the character design, but I’m specifically interested here in what her presence and attitude says about the OYW in G-Quuuuuux.

It’s neat that she’s a Federation Ace, since she neatly contrasts with the numerous Zeon aces from UC proper, and it of course makes sense that the EFF would have a higher number of aces if they were in the losing side of the war. It’s interesting that there’s a specific term for an ace with over a hundred kills - a Unicum since it implies the existence of other aces in that bracket. Notably, there were only around 10 One Year War Aces in Universal Century with Kill Counts over a hundred, and only two of them on the federation’s side (Tenneth A. Jung and Amuro Ray, respectively).

I absolutely adore that Shiiko apparently made ace in a guncannon, because it highlights the changing fortunes of the Earth Federation in this new timeline. The Gundam was far-and-away the most successful of the three Operation V units, and so it makes sense that without the data from its learning computer the Earth Federation would utilise it as their primary mobile suit. This is also excellent because in The Origin Manga, the Earth Federation loses badly to a Zeon mobile suit team (consisting of Ramba Ral, Char and the Black Tri-Stars) precisely because the Guncannon early types they’re using aren’t a match for Zeon’s Zaku’s (and Bugu). So it essentially is that battle writ large across the entire war due to the federation losing the Gundam, and the secrets of mobile suit development with it.

Now I mentioned earlier that Shiiko contrasts with the typical Zeonic aces native to UC works. Thing is, when I first saw her, I thought she was a send-off of one of the characters from the Original Mobile Suit Gundam - Mirai Yashima, the White Base’s Helmsman (and eventually Mirai Noa, mother of everyone’s favourite domestic terrorist, Hathaway Noa)

A big part of Mirai’s character in the original show is family, and how she navigates the war with that. So it’s possible that Shiiko represents what Mirai might’ve become if she’d gone into mobile suit piloting - her entire attitude about her family seems to frame that she never got over the death of her Mav in the OYW, and is neglecting them in her pursuit of vengeance against the Gundam. Though it’s possible I’m reading too much into things considering Cameron Bloom also appears in the episode and no connection between the two is suggested.

As an aside, I find it interesting that Char Aznable and Challia Bull are the two behind the two-man team strategy that led to the use of Mav as a term, since by its nature it would lend itself well to a duo of Newtypes, further emphasising the weaponisation of human connection and emphasising just how Zeon saw newtypes on the practical level - yes, all very high-minded and that, but how can we exploit them for combat?

Lastly, I’d just like to personally note that we do know of one other Earth Federation Guncannon Ace - Lydo Wolf, the Dancing Black Death.

Who piloted a Guncannon Mass Production type. Humorously, Shiiko’s presumed 100+ kill tally blows his out of the water at a “mere” 68 MS and 4 Ship kills during the entire war.

[aspaceinthecosmos]

Happy International Women's Day!

Women are underrepresented in the fields of astronomy and physics. According to the International Astronomical Union (IAU), between 20-30% of astronomers are women. While many well-known astronomers are men, there have been numerous female astronomers in history who have made incredible discoveries, but who history has forgotten. Today we'll go over some of those women and their accomplishments.

Annie Jump Cannon (1863-1941)

Annie Jump Cannon is the woman responsible for our current stellar classification system, which organizes stars based on spectral types and temperature.

She worked at Harvard Observatory as a computer, working on the Henry Draper Catalogue, which attempted to map and classify all the stars in the sky. She was regarded as the best out of the computers, being able to accurately classify the stars incredibly quickly, up to three stars per minute.

Cannon's classification system (O, B, A, F, G, K, M) is still in use today, and separates stars into one of these spectral groups based on different characteristics of their absorption lines.

Henrietta Swan Leavitt (1868-1921)

Henrietta Leavitt is most well known for her discovery of the period-luminosity relationship of Cepheid variable stars.

Henrietta Leavitt was also a computer at Harvard Observatory in the late 1800s and early 1900s, working on cataloguing positions and luminosities of stars. In 1912, Edward Pickering published a paper with Leavitt's observations, which contained a relationship between the brightness of the Cepheid and the logarithm of the period of it.

This discovery, and the ensuing P-L relationship (sometimes known as Leavitt's Law), allowed astronomers to determine the distance to further objects. Because Cepheids are visible in nearby galaxies, astronomers were able to determine that these galaxies (or nebulae, as they were called then), were actually much further away than previously thought, leading to our current understanding of the universe and galaxies outside our own.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin (1900-1979)

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin was the first astronomer to conclude that stars are primarily made of hydrogen and helium.

At the time her thesis was proposed in 1925, it was thought that the sun had a similar elemental composition as the Earth. Payne-Gaposchkin, however, had studied quantum physics, and recognized that the differences in absorption lines between different stars was due to ionization and temperature differences, not elemental differences, and that stars were primarily made of hydrogen and helium, with heavier elements making up less than two percent of stars' masses.

Her theory was met with resistance, and she even put a disclaimer in her thesis, saying the results were "almost certainly not real" in order to protect her career. She was, however, proven right within a few years, and her discovery shaped our knowledge of the composition of the universe.

Vera C. Rubin (1928-2016)

Vera Rubin is most well known for studying the rotation curves of galaxies, and finding a discrepancy that didn't align with the current understanding of physics. This discovery was used as evidence of dark matter, as proposed by Zwicky in the 1930s.

Rubin discovered that spiral galaxies didn't rotate as expected. When looking at our solar system, the outer planets orbit slower due to the inverse square nature of gravity. However, this decaying rotation curve wasn't what was found in spiral galaxies - rather, the outer edges of the galaxies were rotating at about the same speed as the inner areas.

According to Rubin's calculations, galaxies contained 5-10 times more mass than what was accounted for with visible matter. This supported the dark matter theory, and resulted in the current "anatomy" of galaxies, with the visible matter surrounded by a dark matter halo.

Jocelyn Bell (1943-present)

Jocelyn Bell discovered pulsars among a sea of data as a graduate student at Cambridge.

Pulsars (shortened from pulsating radio stars) are rapidly rotating neutron stars, which emit bursts of radiation at extremely short and consistent time intervals.

Bell discovered these, and published the findings in a paper with her thesis supervisor, Antony Hewish. in 1974, Hewish received the Nobel Prize in physics for this discovery, while Bell was omitted, due to her status as both a woman and a graduate student. In 2018, she was awarded the Breakthrough prize in Fundamental Physics for her discovery, and used the three million dollar reward to help minorities in physics.

[toastyrobos]

**Oh what a simple dress can do***

Tech X Female reader

Word count: 4.4 K

((After seeing you in that stunning dress, Tech admits that he can't deny his feelings anymore nor stay away from you. He wants you and makes his Intentions known))

⚠️Warnings: NSFW, smut, fem receiving, fingering, P in V, sweet talking⚠️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mission on Canto Bight ended up being a bit more then you originally bargained for. Especially the multiple men that had taken it upon themselves to flirt with you, like it was their right to. Even after you repeatedly told them a firm no. Thankfully a blaster pointed at them fixed the issue pretty quick.

Everything went about as smooth as most missions with clone force 99 usually did. In that it didn't. Fortunately you got what you came for. Meaning you could finally lose the way too reveling dress. Looking at yourself in the mirror one last you couldn't help but admire it. You had forgotten that you even had this one. Not sure where or when you bought or acquired it, but it was beautiful, Stunningly so.

Weirdly enough you had to admit, a deep scarlet red seemed to be your color.

Standing just outside your door, finger hovering over the open and close button, Tech was thinking the exact same thing.

The rich scarlet color was most certainly indeed your color. Your ideal shade in fact. Maker how it brought out the electric blues in your eyes. The way it clung to your figure, hugging every curve of your frame so perfectly.

The very second you stepped into the cockpit his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. His throat immediately drying up.

All coherent thoughts from his mind disappearing the moment he saw you. It was as if time stood still. Everything ceased to exist but you. All he could see or think about in that very instant was you. You had robbed him of all meaning, leaving him completely breathless.

Keeping a calm and clear head, especially during a mission was a factor of his programming. He was modified specifically to be an individual of logic and facts. Data being his constant companion. Yet, when it came to you everything he knew seemed to dissipate. As if it no longer existed the very minute he laid eyes upon you.

It was no secret to him that he had been harboring these...types of feelings towards you for quite some time. Being a man of science he tried to rationalize it. Find a more accurate solution to why he was experiencing such powerful, dominating emotions.

The only conclusion he could decipher was that he had true passionate feelings for you, and that he needed to tell you. The desire to so was very overwhelming. So much so that the second he saw you in that dress, Kriff, he wanted to devour you. Not just connect his lips to yours, but much more.

His imagination ran wild. Wilder than it should've gone. He had not realized that it could even reach such a point.

It both unnerved and excited him.

Never had he experienced such impulsive thoughts like that before. Especially not about you. Yes he wanted to feel your lips against his. But this?

He had been researching it for quite some time. About how one went about initiating such an action. But now he wanted to touch you in ways that went beyond simple affection.

He was somewhat familiar with intimate escapades and how such actions were preformed. Not only had his brothers disclosed details of their said 'adventures', but numerous late night research sessions had also yielded successful results.

Now the only quarrel was telling you. He had no desire to force himself upon you. He was not that kind of man at all. And frankly he despised any man or individual who was.

If you rejected him then so be it. He would continue your friendship as if nothing had changed and cage his feelings away for no one to see again.

But if you did feel the same way, he was not confident he'd be able to leave without putting his new found knowledge to the use.

Knocking at your door startled you. Having no idea who would be outside your room at this hour you pressed the bottom to find out.

    "Tech?" Surprised to find him standing outside your room of all places. It wasn't unusual for him to frequent the cockpit at night, but here?

That was a first.

Again you addressed him. "What are doing here?"

Already aware of his eyes on you the minute the sheet of metal was gone between you two. It wasn't the first time his gaze had followed you around. This evening especially.

Somewhere deep inside you, you had hoped there was a certain reason behind it, an explanation for why they would linger. However you wouldn't get your hopes up. Not today. Not again.

    "I do not mean to disturb you, but may I come in?" He requested. "It is most urgent".

Whatever it was seemed important. Taking this dress off would have to wait. "Yes of course".

You ushered him in, moving yourself out of the way to allow him room to enter. Then shut the door behind him. You'd be lying if a small part of you didn't hope that Tech's sudden visit would be to tell you that he cared for you.

Tucked away deep inside, you too had harbored romantic feelings for him. From the first mission you were assigned to clone force 99, you felt pulled to him. Something about his aura and person drew you in. From that point on every opportunity you got to spend alone with him was invigorating.

Right now in this moment, the two of you alone in your room, was no exception. The way he was looking at you, staring at you, the way his gaze glided across your skin. Maker. It was anything but rational.

To be honest you liked it. Anytime a more impulsive Tech made an appearance, even for the briefest of moments, it excited you. Made your insides tingle.

As luck would have it , a more impulsive Tech was here. And he was ready to play. If given the opportunity. But first he needed to lay everything out in the open. Make his true intentions known, and await for your answer.

But yet again that dress stopped him in his tracks. The power it had over him and his...urges. Desires. Even without it you were a stunning individual. Mind, body and soul. But in it...may the force help him. You were a goddess, and he was bewitched entirely.

Taking a deep breath Tech began, "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable (Y/N). That is never my intention".

You nodded, "I know and you never do, Tech".

Air filled his lungs as he felt his own body heating up from just being in the same room as you, in that dress.

His desires were curling and twisting into every crevice of his body. Such unusual emotions for him to even entertain. Nonetheless have. He wanted to kiss you. Touch you. Show to you all that he'd learned. Give you a passionate escape. All of it. He wanted all of it.

But most of all.

He wanted you.

Maker he wanted you so badly. It was like he was being burned alive from the inside out every second that passed without telling you. He had never experienced such a desperate, demanding feeling before. Some how it did not feel foreign, strangely enough.

In fact he found it to be rather enjoyable. The way you made him feel.

It was now or never.

"I must confess to you that I have come here with an ulterior motive. That is I do not wish to alarm you.."

You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he moved, step by step closer to you. Closing the distance between your bodies inch by inch. You stood your ground. Not afraid of what was happening.

Until your bare back was pressed up against the edge of your desk. His frame hovering over you, you were starting to realize the gravity of the situation.

"There is an undeniably strong romantic attraction that I feel for you (Y/N)".

His voice was barley a whisper. But it held power. And it had you. Goosebumps spread across your skin, lips parted, your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but found only silence greeted you.

"It has been excruciatingly difficult to keep my distance from you for the sake of our missions for the Galactic Army of the Republic and your responsibilities as a Senator. However after this very evening....". He stared deep into your eyes. "Seeing you in this breathtaking ensemble, I could deny my feelings towards you no longer".

You remind in shock. You had hoped, even if it was fleeting, but you never had thought he actually would care for you. And so strongly.

He took another breath. "Nor can I deny that I want you (Y/N). In ways that I know I should not want you for it is against everything that I was programmed to be and my duties as a solider". He exclaimed. "As well as your duties as a Senator. I do not mean to overstep my boundaries". Seeing as you had not yet responded, he back pedaled slightly.

"I know this must be overwhelming, the amount of data I have unexpectedly sprung on you at this late hour, but I—I do not mean to unease you nor did I intend to upset you. I do not mean to pressure you into accepting my advances, if they are not reciprocated or if in fact they are unwarranted".

The air surrounding you both was becoming alive. Pulsating. Electrically charged by his forward advances.

You swallowed. "My only intention at this very moment is to disclose to you how you make me feel. Anything beyond that—it is your decision if you wish for me to continue. If you do not I will respect your answer and will simply return our relationship to what it was before this...conversation".

Again your repeated silence concerned him. Had he crossed a line that he could never mend? Had his speech patterns and wording been all wrong?

He wondered, maybe he should have kept this sort of inconvenience to himself, if this was your desired reaction.

"It would seem that I have made things uncomfortable for you. Very well, I will leave you". He started to back away from your close proximity. "I am truly sorry to have incon—"

"Don't go". Before he could move any further from you, you reached out to grip his hand. Stopping him in place. "Please". You spoke.

You couldn't deny that his words had caught you off guard, but oh how they affected you. Your body felt like it was prickling with heat, the skin beneath your, suddenly all too revealing, dress in particular.

Nothing physically had happened, and yet you sensed your body being awakened by his advances. A large degree of it caused by his carefully crafted words. It was undeniable now.

He wanted you.

He really wanted you.

To be with you. To kiss you. To hold you. To...touch you in those ways. It didn't scare you. No. In fact, in some strange way you felt braver. Under his gaze you didn't back away. Instead you embraced it.

You cared for Tech deeply, as deeply as you were now sure he cared for you. There was no reason to be afraid. Not with Tech. No reason to shy away from him now.

Tech would never intentionally hurt you. He had made that clear in the ways he would protect you. Not just on missions you accompanied them, but in his words, in the way he spoke to and about you.

Thus you trusted him fully. Beyond a shred of any doubt.

Tech returned to his previous position, his chest plate nearly touching your tantalizingly exposed skin.

"Are you certain?" He questioned you, so sure you'd come to your senses at once and immediately reject him. You however did not. Instead to his surprise you nodded. Yes you were sure, you wanted this, wanted him.

Maybe it was rash to jump straight into this, but maker the sensations pooling in your lower stomach spoke otherwise. You were now eager for him to reach out and touch you. The anticipation for him to do so building with each passing minute.

"Yes, Tech". You confidently stated. "I want this". He took one last step towards you. "I want you". This time your voice was barely above a whisper. To anyone it sounded like you were scared. To Tech, however it was an open and vulnerable invitation.

The peaks of your breast brushed up against his chest. By the maker. He welded his eyes to not glance down.

He scanned your features for any signs that you had changed your mind. That you no longer wished to engage in such fantasies, but he found none. Nothing that would signal to him a change in your choice, now made.

Unequivocally as he was that he wanted you, you in return had expressed that you wanted him, in that way. Meaning that he could ravish you in the ways both you and he wanted.

You saw the flicker of something hungry flash behind his goggles, making you sit up straighter and grip the edge of the desk firmer.

Wasting not a moment more, Tech latched his hands onto each side of your waist with vigor and hauled you up onto the surface of your desk. Even more heated desires began to seep its way into your skin, pooling especially between your legs.

Maker you wanted more of this feeling, this sensation. You met his burning gaze, and he was absolutely going indulge you, both of you. It would be his greatest pleasure to do so.

Opening your mouth to speak, you found yourself being cut off by the warmth of Tech's lips crashing upon yours.

Upon instinct you wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping at the small tuffs of hair that resided just under his goggles strap.

Heavens, he tasted so sweet. Like freshly squeezed nectar. And cinnamon. You could detect hints of it throughout and was it delicious. But there was also a bitterness flavor. Perhaps the remnants from his coffee consumption. Though you paid it no mind. As delicious as you found him, he equally found kissing you intoxicating.

It was so invigorating with the force that he kissed you. How his lips molded with yours. Like they somehow fit together.

And the way you tasted. He alone was captivated by your flavor. How his neurons lite up like the thousands of lights on Coruscant, stimulated beyond comparison.

Tech trailed one hand down side of your leg and under the dress that sent him into a frenzy. Reaching his intended target, he hooked his gloveless finger around the edge of your panties.

Oh stars above.

But that was not where he intended to stop. Oh no. He had other plans in mind at current. Catching on to his true task your eyes widened before your mouth pulled from his, head immediately falling back.

A cry fell from your lips as two of his fingers attacked your clit. Twirling and twisting around at your entrance, teasing your folds with every touch. Every flicker they inflicted upon your very soul, emitted such sounds from you.

You gasped out his name, your body writhing and shaking the instant he dipped his fingers inside of you. Oh by the force. The way he worked you as soon as he made contact with your walls, touching and feeling every surface he could glide them across. Naturally you bucked against them.

"Tech.." you moaned.

He smirked at the response he alone could elicit from you. "You look absolutely enticing right now, my dear". He purred, joining another finger in his pursuit.

You bit down on your lip, shivers running down your back while your entire body was burning, a raging inferno quickly consuming you, caused by his own hands.

True to his words he knew exactly how to delight you. Take you to new highs and make all coherent thoughts vanish, sending vibration after vibration reverberating throughout your being.

You were positively certain he could bring you to your knees with a simple touch. At this very moment you felt it.

"Oh gods..". You tried to bring a hand up to muffle your cries, but Tech reached for it instead, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid not my dear". He whispered in your ear. "I want to hear you cry out my name. And my name alone". His low, but deep toned demand made a wave of pleasure wash over your trembling body.

You continued to ride his fingers as they took you higher and higher to places you had not thought possible. Euphoric sensations building within you, exploding into every nerve with each pass of his fingers.

He watched as his sudden movements shook your legs, your body trembling simply from his slender fingers alone. If this messily action alone could stir such a reaction from you...stars above what would other ones elicit from you?

He wanted to test out that hypothesis. Exponentially so.

For now, he could sense your sweet release was near its end. Your walls swelling and convulsing around his slender digits, the tremors he felt. It was building.

Wanting to help you along, he quickened his motions and maker the noises it pulled from you. He could feel his own member pulsing, clearly being affected by them too.

Pleasure and ecstasy twisted low in your stomach, reaching its boiling point. Tech doing all he could to push you over the edge with each strike. Fingers still deep inside forced a high pitch moan to escape your lungs.

"That's it". He cooed.

Like a tidal wave, your release hit. Pleasure swarming every inch of you. Stars closing in on your vision while he took one last swipe of your insides, hot and sweet liquid coating his fingers.

Not being able to hold yourself up, you collapsed into him. Your head coming to rest in the crock of his neck. Small tremors of pleasure rocketed inside you still. Your legs feeling the full extent of what had just happened. Your mind slowly catching up to what had just occurred between you and the team's technology support member.

And he was not yet finished with you. You became aware of it when he hiked up your dress to around your waist, exposing your throbbing core for his eyes alone to see. A light shade of pink painted your cheeks. As you were witnessed to what he was doing next, however, they deepened to a shade of red. You swallowed the nerves building inside as you stared at him.

"I-I—maker Tech that..". You needed a moment to catch your breath, your body still feeling the effects of being pushed over the edge.

He nodded in agreement. "I-I concur". You breathed. "Your...exquisite". He placed a piece of your hair behind your ear, while admiring how beautifully a mess you looked from his delightful actions.

"Thank you". You replied with a chuckle, bracing against his body. You could feel his hands grip your hips with a purpose. You knew what was coming next. What he wanted to explore in.

"You wish to continue?"

Tech sighed, a bit abrasive. "You are correct. This evening has become a desirable one that I do not wish to leave without fully satisfying you-"

A light laugh left your mouth. "Tech, you have more then satisfied me tonight". You took in another inhale followed by an exhale.

"But I'll be honest, I won't say no to another...theory that you want to test out". You bit down on your bottom lip. Tech watched this and acted.

Once again you found his lips on yours. You smiled against his mouth as his fumbled with his tool belt. You knew what was coming. It was the next inevitable step, after what just transpired between you two, you were certainly ready for it.

Lining himself up, he slid in slowly, inch by inch. From the sheer size of him you parted your lips, gasping into Tech's mouth. The feel of his member inside you, filling you up made your vision grow fuzzy. Your body was already on the brink of exhaustion from his earlier escapades.

Now however, your body was coming alive, even more so then before. The exploration this time around by him was extraordinarily.

"Your perfection (Y/N)" He gasped into your ear as he glided back inside you. It was strange to blush at such a thing, when considering he was deep inside you at this very moment.

You quaked with every thrust he pushed into you, sending ripples of shook waves throughout your body. You didn't know how long you would last with his powerful movements. And this wasn't even him going all the way.

He was restless in his pursuit to take you. To have you crying out his name and his name alone. The allure of your delectable noises made him quake as he pumped deeper and deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot by how wild the sounds you were making.

Your moans of pure bliss and pleasure were beginning to tip him past his own point of release.

To Tech, he loved how vocal you were to his advances. It was a sound that was like music to his ears. And re-enforced that his research had greatly been worthwhile. For both of you.

The friction between your legs from his insatiable hunger lite your body aflame. Heated the blood in your veins. As it did to him. You craved to have your release. Just as he did mere minutes ago.

"I want to claim you as mine". He panted in your ear. "If you will allow me.."

It was a request. One that you always had a choice when it came to Tech. He never forced anything upon you. Even things you secretly wanted.

And this...you wanted, it was no secret, at least not anymore. You could feel yourself slipping more and more, giving into his ferocious control, losing yourself in him, and you liked it.

"Yes". You panted. "Yes Tech. Make me yours".

That was all the confirmation he needed. Your second release of the night nearing and his own bubbling to the surface, he pounded into you, keeping a steady rhythm.

Your walls convulsed against his member, making his own muscles quake with each thrust he pushed into you. The bucking of your hips into him sent the both of you into a frenzy.

In which caused his motions to pick up in pace. Waves of euphoric bliss and ecstasy washed over your being, making you savor each touch of him, every thrust he gifted you with.

"Oh god...". You braced your back, arching it against the wall. "Tech...please". You begged him.

He licked his lips. "Your appearance is truly ravishing at this moment".

"Ahh.."

"You taste divine". The deep low rumble in which he spoke made your body tremble.

Cracks in the facade were starting to become more frequent and you could feel yourself losing control. Inch by inch, the glass was becoming more and more unstable. And with one last powerful thrust everything shattered.

A second tidal wave of hot molten liquid poured out of you. Your legs shook at how powerful this release had been. Stars scattered across your visions as your body collapsed once again into Tech's.

Within seconds of yours, you felt Tech's coat the inside of your walls. Something about being his entirety gave you butterflies. Beats of sweat trailing down both of your foreheads as you, again, rested your head in the crock of his neck.

Like you, Tech was left panting. His own release overwhelming his senses. Not that he gave it much attention. He had been stimulated to such a desirable evening that would no doubt occupy every facet of his brilliant mind for the next several rotations.

Perhaps even longer, given how much he thought about you when nothing of the physical nature had occurred.

Now that it had, it suddenly dawned on him that he would not be able to go a substantial amount of time without...taking you in similar ways that he had tonight.

You took up residency in his mind before this delightful entanglement, but now he hypothesized that you and your scent would linger on him. Haunt his entire being.

Tech was not an obsessive individual, or so he had previously concluded. Now...now he couldn't draw that same conclusion. Especially with you in his embrace, clinging to him, your body molded to his.

"I've come to the conclusion that I will not be to stay away from you...from this..for a substantial amount of time". Tech informed you, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade.

You shook your head, fully understanding his words. "Then don't". You breathed.

You met his eyes. "I-I told you Tech, I wanted this. Wanted you. And I meant it".

Reaching forward, holding your gaze and tilting your chin up, he smiled. "Then I am to assume I am allowed to seek you out, so long as both of us are not otherwise engaged?"

"Yes". You answered without hesitation, smiling. "Yes you are".