#Lighting System Toronto

[trainsgenderfoxgirl2816]

do you want Trolleybuses, Streetcars, or Trains? (almost all of these are powered by overhead wires)

“nobody in miami knows how to drive” “nobody in austin knows how to drive” “nobody in chicago knows how to drive” maybe we shouldnt have cars

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"GET GOOD RESULTS FROM PAROLE PLAN," Toronto Star. September 16, 1933. Page 17. --- Helps Men Re-establish Themselves, T. B. Bell Tells Committee ---- At a meeting of the criminology committee of the Social Service Council of Canada, held this afternoon, an address was given by T. B. Bell, Chairman of the Parole Board of Ontario, who said fine results were given by the parole system and it gave men who have been prison inmates a real opportunity of re-establishing themselves.

Following this address, the committee resolved that W. F. Nickle, K.C., and W. M. Nickle, K.C., of Kingston, should give an address in the near future on conditions as they exist in the Kingston penitentiary. Both these gentlemen have been closely in touch with the recent investigation of the prison riots. This meeting will be held Thursday afternoon next, at 2 o'clock.

The committee on criminology further appointed a nominating committee to consider the line of action to be taken and to report back at an early date.

[casetagram]

Gazebos - Traditional Patio Mid-sized traditional backyard patio design featuring a gazebo and decking

[saerily]

Front Yard Concrete Pavers Inspiration for a sizable, contemporary front yard with concrete pavers.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ad-tech targeting is an existential threat

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO on SUNDAY (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.

The commercial surveillance industry is almost totally unregulated. Data brokers, ad-tech, and everyone in between – they harvest, store, analyze, sell and rent every intimate, sensitive, potentially compromising fact about your life.

Late last year, I testified at a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau hearing about a proposed new rule to kill off data brokers, who are the lynchpin of the industry:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

The other witnesses were fascinating – and chilling, There was a lawyer from the AARP who explained how data-brokers would let you target ads to categories like "seniors with dementia." Then there was someone from the Pentagon, discussing how anyone could do an ad-buy targeting "people enlisted in the armed forces who have gambling problems." Sure, I thought, and you don't even need these explicit categories: if you served an ad to "people 25-40 with Ivy League/Big Ten law or political science degrees within 5 miles of Congress," you could serve an ad with a malicious payload to every Congressional staffer.

Now, that's just the data brokers. The real action is in ad-tech, a sector dominated by two giant companies, Meta and Google. These companies claim that they are better than the unregulated data-broker cowboys at the bottom of the food-chain. They say they're responsible wielders of unregulated monopoly surveillance power. Reader, they are not.

Meta has been repeatedly caught offering ad-targeting like "depressed teenagers" (great for your next incel recruiting drive):

https://www.technologyreview.com/2017/05/01/105987/is-facebook-targeting-ads-at-sad-teens/

And Google? They just keep on getting caught with both hands in the creepy commercial surveillance cookie-jar. Today, Wired's Dell Cameron and Dhruv Mehrotra report on a way to use Google to target people with chronic illnesses, people in financial distress, and national security "decision makers":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-dv360-banned-audience-segments-national-security/

Google doesn't offer these categories itself, they just allow data-brokers to assemble them and offer them for sale via Google. Just as it's possible to generate a target of "Congressional staffers" by using location and education data, it's possible to target people with chronic illnesses based on things like whether they regularly travel to clinics that treat HIV, asthma, chronic pain, etc.

Google claims that this violates their policies, and that they have best-of-breed technical measures to prevent this from happening, but when Wired asked how this data-broker was able to sell these audiences – including people in menopause, or with "chronic pain, fibromyalgia, psoriasis, arthritis, high cholesterol, and hypertension" – Google did not reply.

The data broker in the report also sold access to people based on which medications they took (including Ambien), people who abuse opioids or are recovering from opioid addiction, people with endocrine disorders, and "contractors with access to restricted US defense-related technologies."

It's easy to see how these categories could enable blackmail, spear-phishing, scams, malvertising, and many other crimes that threaten individuals, groups, and the nation as a whole. The US Office of Naval Intelligence has already published details of how "anonymous" people targeted by ads can be identified:

https://www.odni.gov/files/ODNI/documents/assessments/ODNI-Declassified-Report-on-CAI-January2022.pdf

The most amazing part is how the 33,000 targeting segments came to public light: an activist just pretended to be an ad buyer, and the data-broker sent him the whole package, no questions asked. Johnny Ryan is a brilliant Irish privacy activist with the Irish Council for Civil Liberties. He created a fake data analytics website for a company that wasn't registered anywhere, then sent out a sales query to a brokerage (the brokerage isn't identified in the piece, to prevent bad actors from using it to attack targeted categories of people).

Foreign states, including China – a favorite boogeyman of the US national security establishment – can buy Google's data and target users based on Google ad-tech stack. In the past, Chinese spies have used malvertising – serving targeted ads loaded with malware – to attack their adversaries. Chinese firms spend billions every year to target ads to Americans:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/06/business/google-meta-temu-shein.html

Google and Meta have no meaningful checks to prevent anyone from establishing a shell company that buys and targets ads with their services, and the data-brokers that feed into those services are even less well-protected against fraud and other malicious act.

All of this is only possible because Congress has failed to act on privacy since 1988. That's the year that Congress passed the Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you have at home. That's also the last time Congress passed a federal consumer privacy law:

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

The legislative history of the VPPA is telling: it was passed after a newspaper published the leaked video-rental history of a far-right judge named Robert Bork, whom Reagan hoped to elevate to the Supreme Court. Bork failed his Senate confirmation hearings, but not because of his video rentals (he actually had pretty good taste in movies). Rather, it was because he was a Nixonite criminal and virulent loudmouth racist whose record was strewn with the most disgusting nonsense imaginable).

But the leak of Bork's video-rental history gave Congress the cold grue. His video rental history wasn't embarrassing, but it sure seemed like Congress had some stuff in its video-rental records that they didn't want voters finding out about. They beat all land-speed records in making it a crime to tell anyone what kind of movies they (and we) were watching.

And that was it. For 37 years, Congress has completely failed to pass another consumer privacy law. Which is how we got here – to this moment where you can target ads to suicidal teens, gambling addicted soldiers in Minuteman silos, grannies with Alzheimer's, and every Congressional staffer on the Hill.

Some people think the problem with mass surveillance is a kind of machine-driven, automated mind-control ray. They believe the self-aggrandizing claims of tech bros to have finally perfected the elusive mind-control ray, using big data and machine learning.

But you don't need to accept these outlandish claims – which come from Big Tech's sales literature, wherein they boast to potential advertisers that surveillance ads are devastatingly effective – to understand how and why this is harmful. If you're struggling with opioid addiction and I target an ad to you for a fake cure or rehab center, I haven't brainwashed you – I've just tricked you. We don't have to believe in mind-control to believe that targeted lies can cause unlimited harms.

And those harms are indeed grave. Stein's Law predicts that "anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Congress's failure on privacy has put us all at risk – including Congress. It's only a matter of time until the commercial surveillance industry is responsible for a massive leak, targeted phishing campaign, or a ghastly national security incident involving Congress. Perhaps then we will get action.

In the meantime, the coalition of people whose problems can be blamed on the failure to update privacy law continues to grow. That coalition includes protesters whose identities were served up to cops, teenagers who were tracked to out-of-state abortion clinics, people of color who were discriminated against in hiring and lending, and anyone who's been harassed with deepfake porn:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

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/2025/02/20/privacy-first-second-third/#malvertising

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The study from urban accessibility expert Dr. Jan Scheurer set out to determine whether Melbourne, Australia's trams are the most slugging worldwide, and instead pinned that unfortunate distinction on Toronto's TTC streetcar network. Using the Spatial Network Analysis for Multimodal Urban Transport Systems (SNAMUTS) methodology system, the study looked at data from transit systems across the world that operate trams, streetcars and similar urban light rail networks. As for the poorest performance, the study states, "that dubious honour continues to go to Toronto," noting that "Toronto stands out as a laggard" in the study.

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[kleine-joost]

Let Me Take Care Of You (Joost x Reader)

a/n: BOY IT HAS BEEN A WHILE um yeah life got busy, i am going to try to write more soon though

WARNINGS: literally just kissing and drunk joost. pretty tame tbh

The anticipation running through your body was just about driving you insane. You paced around your small living room, waiting for the buzz of your doorbell.

Joost had texted you about thirty minutes before. He’d gone out with some friends, and he was at least a little tipsy and missed you intensely. You had given the night out a skip, being as busy with work as you were, you just weren’t in the mood to wait for hours in lines outside clubs in the January cold all night. You were hoping to get a good night’s sleep for a change.

But here you were, at 1 in the morning, not being able to get to sleep without Joost to warm up your bed.

You made two cups of tea that were still steeping on the counter. Some sleep-inducing tea that you hoped would calm Joost down and let him actually get a decent night’s rest for once.

Stuntje had texted at about the same time Joost did, telling you that your boyfriend had gotten to the sappy stage of drunkenness and that he was going to have to help him get back to your apartment. It warmed your heart that even when you were apart, Joost was still as adoring of you as he was when it was just the two of you–you were glad he wasn’t one of those kinds of guys that were “too cool” to be sentimental around their guy friends, Joost was always to passionate about his love for the people in his life.

Your phone buzzed–another text from Stuntje. You swiped open the message, seeing a picture of Joost falling asleep on Stunje’s shoulder in an Uber with the added text “bringing him soon”. You finished prepping Joost’s tea–though you weren’t sure if he would actually need it to get to sleep if that photo was anything to go by. Still, you squeezed the stronger tea out of the bags and into your mug, though just into yours as you knew that Joost couldn’t stomach tea as strong as you liked.

The grating buzz of your wall unit filled your small apartment. Without even asking who was there, the intercom system rang out.

“Liefje…Baby…” You heard over the crackly static. Joost sounded tired.

“We’re here!” Stuntje yelled, sounding fed up with the drunken mess that he no doubt had to hold up to stop him from falling over.

You pressed the button to unlock the door, answering; “come up!”

It was barely a minute before you heard a key jingle on the other side of the door, followed by a jolt of Joost’s keyring being dropped on the floor of the hall and an exasperated sigh from Stuntje. You decide to give your friend a reprieve, opening the door to see the pair sluggishly struggling to pick up Joost’s keys off the floor.

Joost quickly collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders the second he noticed that you had opened the door.

“Baby…’m missed you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck as you gently placed a hand on his back to steady him.

You whispered a quick thanks and a ‘get home safe’ to Stuntje before locking the door again and leading an almost sleepwalking Joost to your shared bedroom.

He dropped onto the soft bedspread with a huff, not moving from where you left him while you went back to the kitchen to get his mug of tea.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as slowly sat up to sip the warm beverage, holding the mug with a feather-light touch–it was a mug he had gotten you as a gift from one of his many travels, with an image of the skyline of Toronto printed on the side of it.

“Fun night?” You asked, sitting next to him and leaning towards his feet to help him untie his shoelaces.

He hummed in response, still with a mouthful of tea. “Would’ve been more fun if you were there.”

“Next time, alright?” You pulled one of his sneakers off his foot, earning a sigh of relief from Joost. You moved onto the other shoe.

“You should go to sleep, I need to shower,” he said, sluggishly swatting your hands away from the laces, dampened from god-knows-what during the evening.

You laughed at his fumbling, his fatigued efforts to get you to stop. “Let me help you!”

He sighed in defeat. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“Yeah,” you answered, slipping off his other shoe. “But I like helping you.”

You stood up, standing over him as he sat on the edge of your bed. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, which he instantly leant into.

“Let me take care of you.” You leant down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Something about the kiss woke him up, he was quick to reciprocate. Discarding the half-empty mug of tea on the nightstand, he stood up and pulled your body even closer to his, deepening the kiss.

You quickly lost your breath as his hands began to wander from the back of your neck, to your ribcage, to the small of your back.

His kisses were sloppy–a byproduct of his intoxication–and you were quickly becoming desperate for any kind of relief.

You had to break the kiss for a breath, but Joost was still ravenous, kissing down your neck in a way that would surely leave some kind of mark in the morning.

“So,” you panted. “That shower?”

You felt Joost grin against your skin before his head raised to meet your eyes. “I think I’ll need help in there too.”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Hi love could I possibly request an auston matthews x reader? I would absolutely love to see reader and her best friend riding his beautiful thick thighs👀 not quite sure how I want it to go down so I’ll leave that part up to you🫣🤭

like… just look at him waiting for it🤭

Babe, you did me in on this one! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🫦🫦

C|W : 18+; (implied) alcohol usage; girl-on-girl; threesome; thigh riding; mutual masturbation; edging

Cuties to tag : @quinnsbabygirl @ruinix @quinnhughesandqenthusiast

W|C : 2.7k

"You're both making it hard to choose," Auston joked, the roar the music forcing the three of you to stand almost huddled together. You and your best friend had managed to slip into a party somewhere in downtown Toronto and had caught the eye of the Maple Leafs' captain. Since running into Auston, he had found it difficult as to which of you he wanted to give his attention to, which had prompted the statement.

"You can have us both," your bestie said through a giggle, her hands wrapped around his bicep.

The alcohol in your system was giving you both extra courage in the moment, and you were thankful for it. It made flirting with someone like Auston Matthews easier, or the rejection easier to get over. "Yeah, we're a packaged deal."

He smirked, turning his attention to you, "Oh, is that so?" His laugh made your whole body hot, and you involuntarily clenched your legs together. You could tell already, that just by talking to him -coupled with the drinks he had bought- that you wet. God, if you could just have ten minutes with him in a bathroom, you'd be more than happy. "Well, what kind of deal is this exactly?"

Looking at each other, you and your girlfriend giggled again. It seemed like you were the one to decide what it entailed by the look on her face.

"You get twice the fun," you replied, biting your bottom lip.

Auston's golden eyes seemed to darken before he spoke, sending a second rush of arousal threatening to drip down your bare leg. "Twice the fun, or double the trouble?"

Shaking your head, you'd catch him staring, "Double the pleasure, not trouble."

- - -

The drive to Auston's had been a blur. Your girlfriend had nearly pushed you into the front seat of his car while she slipped in behind you in the backseat. All you could remember was him switching between which thighs he rested his hand on while he drove. Within your mind, you were begging him to let his hand trail further and further up your leg until he was knuckle deep in your pussy. You weren't drunk enough to ask for something like that, even if you wanted it as badly as your body was reminding you that you did. Part of you wondered if your partner-in-crime was feeling just as desperate as you were.

"Can I get you girls anything?" Auston asked, showing the both of you inside. "Another couple drinks or something?"

The lights were low and the air was cool against your skin, but it felt so good. Your racing thoughts -filled with desperate fantasies- still had your mind clouded, so you had to be careful of your words any time you had to open your mouth, lest some dark desire just fell out.

"Oh, I'm down for another," you confessed, pulling a hand through your hair, feeling free and completely uninhibited. You could still feel it: feel how aroused you were, as you walked about his living room. How long had it been since you had been so flirty, so empowered to let your body feel good? By now you were all but begging him to rail you against the counter, it had been a while...

"Anything specific," Auston asked, giving you another sly smile before asking your bestie. "What about you, sweetheart?"

"Vodka-cran, or whatever is easy? We don't...want to be a problem."

Her comment about being problems brought a fit of laughter between the two of you. You'd catch Auston smiling to himself before he turned away to find some glasses. Was this a dream, or had he actually brought both of you home for a bit of a private show?

"Oh my god!" you whispered, taking her hands; you could barely contain yourself, "What are we doing?"

"We're going to have a little fun," she hushed, gazing at your lips. She made the first move and pushed against you. Returning the deep kiss, her hands would find your waist as you held her face with yours. It was your moan that pulled Auston's attention away from the vodka he had been pouring. You wouldn't notice him staring at the two of you, seeing her hands roaming your body in that backless, silk dress.

Again, and again, you wanted someone --something-- you brush against your clit; give it the attention it was craving, but she'd make you wait as well. Her fingers trailed down the curve of your hips, catching the short hem of your dress before being pulled back upwards, taking with the fabric with them, revealing you hadn't been wearing any underwear beneath it. The silken fabric would slip back over your curves as the two of you continued nipping at each other's lips, before Auston made it across the room. Upon hearing his soft footsteps, the two of you would part ways, blushing at having been caught despite being out in the open.

He smirked, bringing the two of you your requested drinks, "Don't let me stop you."

Your friend would be the first to speak, "We were just waiting for you."

"Oh, well if that was the case, I appreciate it."

Words couldn't describe how beautiful Auston's smile was as he sat down in the middle of the sofa that was behind you. There he was, looking up at the two of you like he had won some type of lottery. He was sitting deep, legs wide apart like he was just asking to be straddled, and when he motioned for the two of you to have a seat, you knew right where you were going to go. You'd take a sip of the cocktail before setting it down on the coffee table. Your place wouldn't be beside him on the available cushion, but instead, you straddled his left thigh. His smile widened, feeling your weight drape over his leg.

"Plenty of room for two," he teased, giving his right thigh an affectionate tap for your girlfriend your follow suit.

Oh god -- finally feeling some kind of pressure against your throbbing bud felt amazing, but you had to remain somewhat proper -- for the time being anyway. Your girlfriend did the same as you: putting her drink down to find herself with knees bent on the sofa, feeling his muscular leg fill the void between her legs.

Auston kissed you first; breath sweet from whatever had been the mixer of his previous drinks. Your fingers dragged down his jawline; the coarse hairs tickling your fingertips as they went. His full lips didn't disappoint, and each time you had to take a breath you gasped.

Selfishly, you let him return his attention to your friend. Watching him kiss her made you both jealous and turned on. Her fingers were clawing at his broad chest while you let your right hand rest atop his shoulder for balance. When he shifted slightly, beneath the weight of both of you on him, the friction of his pants against your aching lips made you gasp. That slight bit of movement set you off, and now you couldn't help the fact that you were pushing your clit against his thigh for selfish reasons. Finally, all of your abundant arousal was making itself known as it began to soak Auston's pants as you grinded.

"Does that feel good?" He asked, bringing attention to your pleasure. He was grinning, as his left hand cupped your ass, aiding in your rhythm.

"Uh-huh," you mumbled, returning the smile. The way his eyes were looking over your body was delicious; feeling him on you was incredible.

Auston let himself fall back into the cushions of the sofa, simply admiring the view, "Don't stop then."

"O--okay," you drunkenly moaned, eyes fluttering closed against the bliss.

Your friend on the other hand, found herself watching you, and waited for the permission she craved. It wouldn't take long, as Auston was being quite attentive to both of you girls. While, you were busy quietly moaning each time your clit grazed the soft fabric, he coaxed her to match your pace, which she did so happily.

She was much louder than you; moaning like a well-seasoned porn star, and obviously had been just as needy as you had been some moments before. Auston was in heaven, though he remained reserved and restrained. He merely smiled, letting his hands and eyes admire the views before him, absolutely in awe at how his evening was developing. This was one that would replay in his mind for months to come while on the road. While he was praising your companion, you had pulled the thin straps of your dress, over your shoulders, exposing your breasts as the dress fell to your waist.

Your eyes were still closed, hips rocking steadily with his guiding hand to support you, as it had now slipped beneath the dress to have his skin on yours. He knew how wet you were -- he could feel it, but welcomed all of it happily as, it too, was making him hard.

"Aren't you glad you brought us both," she asked, wanting his eyes on her for a little longer, pace slowing so she could regain the ability to speak.

His laugh was deep and throaty which both of you could feel through your bodies, "Oh, absolutely. You haven't disappointed me for a second." She'd pull him into another set of kisses, but his hand gripped tighter on your body in return. The feeling of him on your skin was so warm and it was hard to think about anything else.

"Make those pretty noises for me," he told her, as she tightened up against his thigh. Instantly, she was lost to her pleasures and forgot you were even there.

When Auston turned back to you, however, the sight of your breasts gently bouncing against your movements had him wanting more. He leaned forward and caught your left nipple with his tongue, making your eyes snap open has you let loose a sharp moan from the incredible feeling. His hot tongue against your skin made your whole body shiver.

"More-- pl-ease," you found yourself able to beg now, inhibitions fully down and without care. He'd roll your taut nipple over his tongue like a candy, noticing how it made your hips buck each time he applied pressure. When your hand found his cock, however, Auston's moan rippled through your body. Your palm pressed against his erection, making him melt slightly against your touch.

"There will be time for that later, sweetheart. Just worry about yourself right now," he cooed, catching your fleeting gaze while he could.

"Yes, Papi," you whispered, returning the brilliant smile to his lips.

That had been the magic word. You knew exactly what to call him without him having to say or hint at anything.

"I want you to call me that when you come."

You nodded, feeling another wave of pleasure wash over you, making an absolute mess of his pants but he couldn't have cared less.

"Good girl," he whispered, releasing from you a deep moan he hadn't yet heard. "Ah, there she is. You like that, huh?"

You couldn't answer him, just pushed harder your clit into his soaked leg. He turned back to your friend, who had quickened her pace once more. She was panting, playing with her own nipples as she rode his thigh with slower passes that you had been.

"Why don't you touch her, hm? Tell me how wet she is."

After a couple seconds, you let your left hand find her leg beside you, grabbing at her thigh before sliding your fingers towards her clothed pussy. She moaned against the feeling of your touch to her clit. It throbbed against your fingertips, as you flicked it gently from your position.

"She's soaked through her lace panties," you giggled, amazed at what you were doing. She felt so good beneath your fingers and soon, Auston was asking her to return the favour. You, however, had no cloth to be separated from. Her skin against yours, your wetness coating her fingers could have had you screaming if you had less control. Your moans in his ears told him everything he needed to know. His cock throbbed against the zipper of his pants, seeing both of you touching one another.

"That's it, get each other off."

What a collection of feelings you both were experiencing at the same time. You looked at one another, having heard him tell you to masterbate each other in front of him, while still riding his thick thigs. Her eyes rolled backwards, her left hand still rolling her thumb across her nipple. The quicker her finger coaxed your clit for a release, the quicker your hips met Auston's leg and the more you moaned.

"Careful, I want you both to come at the same time. Slow down." He cooed,

"I've never been this wet," you mumbled, feeling your friends wet fingers tease your swelled bud in a circular motion. "Are you close?"

You were careful not to get her to a climax before you were ready, but the way she was pushing into your hand said she was nearing an orgasm.

"Just-- just a little more. Uh, right there. Right there!"

Just then, her thumb found your clit, teasing you with a rapid back-and-forth fluttering. Your legs widened as much as they could in the space given. Your moans and gasps grew quicker and quicker; you wanted to come so badly but you had to wait.

"Shhhhh, slow down. Not yet."

His voice felt like velvet between your ears. He could have talked you to an orgasm if he had tried.

"You mentioned double the pleasure earlier, hm? Which one of you is going to ride my cock while the other rides my face?"

Both of you smiled and looked at the other for a quick second.

"Who gets what," you struggled to ask, mouth dry from gasping for air through the pleasure.

"You decide," he smirked.

Without hesitation, you asked her, "What do you... what do you want?"

"Oh, I wanna ride his cock," she replied desperately, voice shaky from your teasing fingers.

You found the strength to look Auston in the face and grinned. He seemed pleased with the immediate answer.

"Perfect," he said, voice breathy as his mind anticipated the later. "You two are so beautiful."

You almost didn't hear his compliment. Everything was coming at you so fast: fighting off your want to finish, concentrating on your left hand, the feeling of Auston's hand still pushing you forward, and just the desire to breathe. It was so much to take in that your ears were almost turned off.

There was that feeling again: the swirling torrent of pleasure demanding to break through.

"I wanna come!" You cried out. "I wanna come, please. I can't-- I can't--"

"Okay-- Okay!"

Auston's face showed his approval of the two of you both doing as he had asked, and together, you both reached your shared orgasms.

"Oh-- Oh-- Papi!" You yelled, finding yourself struggling to keep control of your limbs. "Papi!"

His hand remained where it had been on your body, and braced against your friend's waist, fearing she was going to collapse against the sensations. You both were breathless, panting as wave after wave of enjoyment washed over your senses and sensitive regions. Fingers slowly retracted from their ordered positions and returned to your own bodies. You couldn't remember the last time you had come so hard, or so many times in a row.

"Good girls," he praised. "Both of you."

Eventually, both of you would lean forward, and lay your heads over his shoulders as he held you in his arms. You were exhausted, having lost track of time though it didn't matter. The night wasn't over yet. There would be numerous more to be shared and dawn was still many hours away.

Who was keeping count?

[nylqnder]

FIRST SNOWFALL JAMIE DRYSDALE

— event masterlist !

pairing: fem!reader x jamie drysdale

summary: after moving to philadelphia, you get your first snowy christmas, so jamie takes you outside to fully introduce you to snow.

warnings: descriptions of reader being from socal

wc: 1.14k

notes: fic 9 of my christmas event! as i'm writing this, we still have not gotten snow where i live... (UPDATE: it snowed literally a day after i wrote this🤐)

The morning light filtered through the slats of the blinds, casting a faint glow on the beige walls of the bedroom you now shared with Jamie in Philadelphia. The hum of the heating system was the only sound, a soft reminder of the cold winter that was approaching outside. You shuffled out of bed, your toes curling against the chill of the hardwood floor as you padded toward the window. Pulling the blinds aside, you froze.

The world beyond the glass was transformed. Snow blanketed every surface, turning the familiar street into a pristine, untouched wonderland. The cars parked along the curb were reduced to lumpy, formless mounds. The branches of the bare trees sagged under the weight of the thick white layer. It was mesmerizing, and your lips parted in awe.

“Jamie,” you called, your voice rising with excitement. “Jamie, wake up!”

From the bed, a groggy groan emerged as he stirred, his head popping up from the pillow, his dark hair sticking up in every direction. “What is it?” His voice was rough with sleep.

“It snowed,” you said, the words tumbling out in disbelief. “I mean, like, really snowed. The whole world’s… white.”

Jamie swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his eyes as he joined you at the window. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, widened slightly as he took in your expression, the kind of wide-eyed wonder that was rare in adults. “You’ve never seen snow before?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.

You shook your head, still staring out. “No. Not like this. I mean, it’s Southern California. The closest I’ve gotten is fake snow at Disneyland.”

His laugh was soft, a low rumble that made your chest warm despite the chilly air in the room. “Well, get dressed. Layers,” he added, pointing a finger at you. “We’re going outside.”

“Right now?” You turned to him, incredulous.

“Right now,” he confirmed, already heading to the closet. “Can’t have you missing out on your first real snow day.”

The process of layering up was comical in itself. Jamie had to pause several times to explain what counted as "real winter gear" and why a hoodie wouldn’t cut it. By the time you were ready, you felt like the younger brother in A Christmas Story, your movements stiff under the weight of layers upon layers of fabric.

“Perfect,” Jamie declared, tugging on a beanie and some gloves. He was significantly less bundled up, but being born in Toronto, he was used to the snow and the cold. “Let’s go.”

The cold hit you first. The air was crisp, almost biting, as you stepped out onto the porch. Your breath puffed out in little clouds, and you could feel the chill settling into your nose and cheeks. But the sight of the snow up close — how it sparkled like a field of tiny diamonds — was enough to keep you from retreating back inside.

Jamie didn’t wait. He was already scooping up a handful of snow, testing its texture in his gloved hands. “It’s good packing snow,” he said, turning to you with a wicked grin. “Perfect for snowballs.”

“Snowballs?” you echoed, but before you could react, a soft projectile hit you square in the shoulder.

You gasped, your hands flying up in mock outrage. “Oh, you’re so going to regret that.”

What followed was a flurry of laughter and snow, as the two of you lobbed hastily-formed snowballs at each other. You squealed every time one hit its mark, the cold seeping through your jacket, but you couldn’t stop grinning. Eventually, a truce was called, and you both flopped onto the snow-covered lawn, where you attempted your first snow angel. The act of lying back in the cold, damp snow felt bizarre at first, the cold seeping through your sweatpants. Jamie was at your side, moving his arms and legs with exaggerated enthusiasm, and his laughter echoed, rich and full, when your own “angel” turned out crooked and uneven.

“So,” Jamie starts once you’ve both stood back up. “What are your final thoughts on snow?”

You glance around at the winter wonderland that consumed the tight-knight community in Philadelphia that you’d grown to call home. “I didn’t know it would be so pretty,” you say softly. “And so cold.”

Jamie smirked, shaking snow out of his hair. “Well, yeah. It’s snow,” he teased.

You roll your eyes at him, but the shivering that’s started to creep in undercuts your comeback. Jamie notices immediately, his brow furrowing. “You’re freezing,” he says, already on his feet. “Do you want to go back inside?”

You hesitate, glancing at the snowy expanse once more, reluctant to leave. But when another shiver racks your frame, you nod. “Yeah, let’s head in.”

Inside, the warmth hits you like a balm. Jamie turns on the fireplace while you peel off your damp layers, wrapping yourself in a plush blanket. By the time he joins you on the couch, the flames are dancing in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.

Jamie hands you a steaming mug of hot chocolate, complete with a mountain of mini marshmallows on top. “Here,” he says, plopping down beside you and tucking his legs underneath him. “This’ll warm you up.”

You take the mug gratefully, letting the warmth seep into your fingers as you hold it close. The first sip is heavenly, rich and sweet, and you let out a satisfied hum. The warmth of the room and Jamie’s easy presence wrap around you like a cocoon. Outside, the snow still falls softly, blanketing the world in a peaceful silence. It feels like the kind of day meant for slowing down, savoring the little things.

You take another sip of your hot chocolate and glance at Jamie. “You know what would make this even better?”

“What’s that?” he asks, turning his head toward you.

“A Christmas movie,” you suggest, grinning.

Jamie raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I see. You’ve got snow outside, a fire going, and now you want the full Hallmark experience?”

“Exactly,” you reply, laughing. “And you can’t say no. It’s my first snowy Christmas, after all.”

He rolls his eyes in mock defeat but reaches for the remote. “Fine. But I’m picking the movie.”

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. “Nothing boring or depressing, Jamie. It has to be a classic.”

He scrolls through the streaming options, the soft clicks of the remote filling the cozy silence. “Home Alone? It’s funny, Christmassy, and has a ton of snow.”

You agree, Jamie clicking play. As the opening notes of the movie fill the room, Jamie drapes an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. You lean into him, the warmth of his touch and the crackling fire melting away the lingering chill.

[spacevoyagerx]

NGC 6440

NGC 6440 is a globular cluster located in the constellation Scorpius.

It is situated approximately 28,000 light-years away from Earth and is known for its relatively high concentration of stars.

NGC 6440 is notable for containing a number of variable stars, including several types of pulsating stars and binary systems.

The cluster is of interest to astronomers because it has been studied for its potential to host exotic stellar remnants, such as neutron stars and black holes.

Credits: NASA, ESA, C. Pallanca and F. Ferraro (Universits Di Bologna), and M. van Kerkwijk (University of Toronto); Processing: G. Kober (NASA/Catholic University of America)

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS 'NEGATIVE TIME'??

Blog#443

Wednesday, October 9th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Negative time may sound like the last committee meeting you attended that should have been an email, but researchers from the University of Toronto and Griffith University have reported that photons — particles of light — can spend a “negative” amount of time exciting atoms as they pass through a medium. Published in the pre-print server arXiv, the researchers report this strange phenomenon, confirmed by experiments and theory, challenges traditional views of light-matter interaction and sheds new light on the concept of negative time in quantum systems.

The study, which investigates the group delay experienced by photons, also suggests that this negative time has more physical meaning than previously thought and could have implications for quantum technology, such as quantum computing.

At the heart of the research is the concept of group delay. When light passes through a material, its speed is affected, causing a delay in how long it takes to travel from one point to another. Normally, this delay is positive, meaning that the light slows down as it interacts with the atoms in the material. However, in certain cases, especially when the light is tuned to specific frequencies near the material’s atomic resonance, something strange happens: the group delay becomes negative.

This means the light appears to exit the material before it should, creating a paradox that has puzzled physicists. Essentially, it’s as if the photon caused an effect, like making the atom excited, before it even arrived — something that can happen in the quantum world but doesn’t make sense in our everyday experience of time. (Welcome to the weird, wonderful world of quantum mechanics.)

To better understand this phenomenon, the research team set out to answer a fundamental question: Does this negative group delay correspond to the time photons spend as atomic excitations? The answer, as it turns out, is yes. By using a method called the cross-Kerr effect, the researchers were able to probe the degree of atomic excitation caused by transmitted photons, even when the group delay was negative.

The results showed that the time spent by the photons as atomic excitations was directly related to the group delay, suggesting that the negative time observed in the group delay has real physical significance.

Another fundamental question the researchers sought to answer was: how much time do atoms spend in an excited state when a photon is transmitted through a medium?

“We define the average time that the atoms spend in the excited state (τ0), or average atomic excitation time, as the time integral of the expectation value of the number of atoms in the excited state,” the researchers write.

They further explored the quantum nature of this interaction, asking how this time changes when photons are transmitted rather than scattered.

The idea that photons can cause atomic excitations for a negative amount of time may seem counterintuitive, but it fits within the framework of quantum mechanics. In classical physics, time is always positive—a particle moves forward in time as it travels. However, in the quantum world, time can behave differently. When the researchers tuned their light pulses to specific frequencies close to the atomic resonance of rubidium-85 atoms, they observed that the group delay of the transmitted photons became negative. This implies that the peak of the light pulse exited the medium before it logically should have, based on when it entered.

To explain this, the team used quantum theory and the concept of “weak values,” a formalism that allows certain measurements in quantum mechanics to take on values outside the normal expected range. In this case, the weak value of the atomic excitation time was found to be negative, corresponding to the negative group delay observed. Essentially, the photons were interacting with the atoms in such a way that the atoms were excited before the light even arrived—at least, from the perspective of the group delay measurement.

This strange behavior was measured using the cross-Kerr effect, which allowed the team to detect tiny phase shifts in a secondary beam of light (the probe) caused by the atomic excitations from the transmitted photons. By carefully synchronizing their measurements and using post-selection techniques to focus only on the transmitted photons, the researchers were able to directly measure the atomic excitation time and compare it to the group delay.

Originally published on https://thequantuminsider.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, October 12th, 2024)

"DO MICRO BLACK HOLES EXIST??"

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Dr. Withrow Replies To "Pen" Questions," Toronto Globe. October 6, 1933. Page 1. ---- This series of questions and answers conducted by Dr. Withrow will conclude with tomorrow's instalment. Their purpose was to clear up for readers of The Globe any any points requiring elucidation following his disclosures of conditions at at Kingston Penitentiary. This purpose has been served. The indictment of penitentiary administration, as illustrated by Kingston methods, is complete, but both The Globe and Dr. Withrow will continue the crusade for reforms, the need of which has been demonstrated so fully. Inquirers wishing to reach Dr. Withrow may do so through The Globe or at his home address, 38 Albany Avenue.

(Copyright, 1933, by The Globe and O. C. J. Withrow.)

After reading your many letters in The Globe of the past, I am interested as yourself in the better conditions necessary for the human being that is so unfortunate as to get into the clutches of the so-called law.

I notice where you lay stress on officialdom of the penitentiary and the great need for reform on its part. I fully agree with your idea, as I was a victim of the same treatment as yourself, only at Burwash instead of Kingston. The same conditions exist at Burwash as at Kingston. The only difference is that Burwash is in the backwoods and there are no high walls walls around the prison property. The treatment to inmates is identically the same and the officialdom the same, only more ignorance exists, if possible to be.

Just let you and me, dear doctor, think for a moment: Is there not an investigation long past due? Inside Observer.

---

An investigation is long past due. But, what is of is of more importance, action could have been taken long ago by Constituted Authority on reports that have been placed before it during the past twenty years. In 1914. and again in 1921, to mention no other dates, able men made suggestions for improvement which were were ignored. No amount of pressure has been able to move the powers to a sane sizing-up of the situation. Then came the riots of 1927 and 1932. Public opinion has been aroused as never before.

Action must come soon. We are being told that reforms have been made. They are too superficial for serious consideration by an incensed public, and with a deeper knowledge of what really exists behind the stone walls a more efficient probing is necessary. and then suitable legislation to make our Canadian penal system the best that can be evolved. It is satisfactory to notice that the Attorney General of Ontario has graciously subscribed to the need along one line, and that is for stopping the disparity of sentences handed by out Magistrates and Judges. This has been a real blot upon the administration of justice. An acknowledgment such as this only makes the necessity for a thorough investigation into the whole penal system more insistent. May I repeat that superficialities will not suffice. You are calling attention to conditions at Burwash. I am insisting that the probe should go more deeply than into our penitentiaries. They but house the products of our courts, those who are very often graduates of our reformatories and industrial schools. There are occasions in the life of every commonwealth when drastic changes in institutions must be made. We have come to such an occasion in Canada and we must seize the opportunity for reform. Why do the Premier and the Minister of Justice still stand shivering on the brink when they know the plunge must be made? You and I, with hosts of thoughtful Canadians, would like to know.

///

I have followed your articles with horrified interest.

I am a public school teacher of twelve years' experiences, having learned a lot from experience, and knowing I have a lot more to learn.

In today's article, "M. A. В., Barrister etc." touches upon sterilization of the unfit. I cannot think this is sound biblical teaching. My reading of the New Testament has lead me to believe that:

(a) Sterilization of unfit,

(b) Capital punishment,

(c) Our penitentiary methods, are in direct opposition to biblical teaching.

We teachers in Ontario and elsewhere have now in our schools each day the boys and the girls who will make up the jail population of tomorrow!

If each teacher were allowed to have no more than twenty pupils in his or her room, then that teacher could take a personal interest in every child and give special attention to those who are dull and 1 of wayward tendencies.

Sterilization of unfit is the lazy man's way of dealing with the trouble. Sympathetic men, interested Boards of Education, plus a broad curriculum, with much hard work for "mentally defectives" (?), plus good teachers with suitable equipment, I believe, could solve the mentally unfit problem so called. But a universal characteristic of the human race is laziness. So, when a child gives trouble we thrash him, because we are too lazy to find the cause.

When a 'teen-age boy goes wrong, we are too lazy to look for the cause and too stingy to provide the means to see to it that other boys avoid the danger spots.

Solomon said it was all in training:

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."

Ignorance is one of the greatest curses. You are doing a wonderful thing in the way of enlightening people.

May your efforts bring immediate results.

Could not our schools do a great deal more than they are doing at present to to aid in preventing children developing into criminals? In fact, could not every person, no matter how humble, If he would do a little thinking. do his bit to train to train the rising generation in right ways of living?

Eastern Ontario.

---

Your question came in after article in yesterday's issue of the Globe was written, but although I do not agree with everything you say. I feel that your side of the question should be given a place in this column. Sterilization of the unfit is a scientific method of helping to solve this great criminology problem, not a lazy way, as you suggest. Would it be a lazy way to plug up the hole in the bottom of the boat instead of continuing the laborious process of balling out? As a teacher you should have already learned the futility of trying to train pupils of definitely low mentalities beyond a certain standard. And the propagation of the mentally defective by parents who are proved to be of this class has up to the present made an endless procession of actual criminals, which may be stopped if we will only make it impossible for such defectives to produce children of like calibre. I would not deprive any human being of the possibilities of full enjoyment of the things of this life. but this sterilization of the unfit is bound to find its rightful place in our Commonwealth. The school has a great mission to perform in training for citizenship. When our teachers take the long view and endeavor to picture their pupils in the years that are to be, much can be done. I feel sure, to prevent crime. A close association between the school and the home will help materially. Home and school clubs are performing an excellent service here. Our Juvenile Courts, where the funds have been forthcoming for their establishment, have made a link between the youthful offender and the home or the school. The possibility of probation, with the watchfulness and sympathetic care of the Big Brother Movement, has kept many a boy from a life of crime. I am delighted that you and many like you are willing to study fundamentals.

///

A thousand thanks for the wonderful work you are doing. I believe every word you have said. One can only read your letters and believe all. What you have passed through was terribly real, and now you are striving to bring about at a reform for the betterment all. God bless you. We are with you and I feel sure soon your of heart and ours will be gladdened by a new order of things in our prisons. I do not wish to ask any questions; enough has been said. I am now looking for action. May God's richest blessing rest upon you and yours. He knows. He cares. He understands this great desire to help others. This is Christian. You are in God's will; therefore we are bound to come out on top. I am enclosing a cutting from one of our papers. I know you can answer the cry of this poor mother, although you cannot help directly. There are many cases like this one How can such things really happen and why? With you all the way.

E. B.

----

My boy of 18, having no work, decided to try the West, hoping to find something to do at the harvesting. Having nothing to eat for thirty-six hours, he took food that did not belong to him, and for doing so he was given a reformatory sentence. We knew nothing of his plight. Homesick and more than 1,000 miles from home, he ran away, was caught and given a sentence of two years In a penitentiary, and was told he could write for or a a parole in a year's time. He had been a month there when he wrote home and told us that, had he had counsel, he never would have been convicted. The first year completed, his parole papers were sent in. He had n good good home to come to, steady work assured, yet his parole is refused without any reason. Seemingly, one needs to be a bank robber or thoroughly bad to gain a parole.

What has my boy done that ninety-nine out of a hundred wouldn't do in the same circumstances? Where here is our far-famed British justice, that such things can happen and no parents be notified? ? Why give a boy false hopes of parole, only to refuse one? Can any one tell me, Is there anything one can do in such false case? Mother.

///

I can only repeat that the Remission Branch of the Department of Justice, which refuses applications for parole and recommends those that are granted, is sorely in need of a thorough cleansing. But that will be only my too apparent when the sweeping investigation takes place.

[ya-zz]

Hii! I've been waiting for quite a while to share this thought with you. A while ago, I shared with you my thoughts and it led to "Hacked" being written with Ramattra x Reader. I'd like to... maybe request a second part of that? I've been daydreaming about the possibilities of what's next for it. So, I'd like you to choose what happens:

A. Ramattra encountering Reader again in the battlefield and this time she has no time to hack through his system, and he finds her first. Keen into making her feel exactly how he felt back then.

B. Reader once again hacks into Ramattra's system, but this time she's braver, getting him while he's recharging (simply sneaking in his base to prove a point) and making him feel exactly what humans feel when they orgasm.

-Nia

We don't talk about how I did this within hours of the request coming through...

HI AGAIN!! IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU!! ♥ Thank you so much for requesting again, I love the ideas as always ^^

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1348 !! NSFW !!

The vessel rattles in the sky, currently moving over Toronto. The attacks below were never ending as Ramattra continued to repeat the broadcast. The gunfire and screams were louder than before as he watched on; one by one, humans fell and omnic civilians were secured. It was going exactly as he planned. 

Steering away from the capitol, he heads for his new location to oversee the destruction happening there. In the meantime, however, he was due a recharge. 

Taking a seat on the floor, back resting against the wall, he plugs himself in, wires connecting to his sides and back of the neck. He goes through his systems, setting up the necessary precautions just in case his vessel gets attacked and then the lights on his forehead dim, changing orange as he goes into standby. 

Everything fell silent, though Ramattra could still pick out the workings of his ship; the humming of the engine vibrating against the floor, the soft flickers of light that passed by the window on occasion. It was as if time had slowed down.

His optics shifted to where a noise could be heard, but due to being in standby, his vision was blurred to make his charging time quicker. Something had fallen so he left it be, the turbulence must've knocked it over.

Ramattra went back to his charging meditation, his body unmoving as it lay against the wall until a familiar feeling kicked in. 

It took his systems a moment to register what was going on but it was too late. The module he had locked away was open once again, his wires heating up slowly as he attempts to wake up. 

“It’s too late.” A familiar voice rang out. “Your systems can’t beat me this time.” 

Despite his vision being overrun with omnicode and errors, he tilts his head up to view you. His voice was a low rumble as he attempts to speak. 

“You- How-” 

“It’s simple, really.” You approach him, straddling his knees as you lower yourself onto him and dropping the holopad beside your leg. “Your guard is down, a foolish idea, really.” Your fingers stroke the wires that were placed into his sides. The Null Sector leader beneath you once again, unable to do anything, unable to fight back, what a pretty sight it was.

“Get out.” 

You tut, shaking your head with a smirk. “That is no way to treat a guest, Ramattra. Besides, I want to finish what we started the other week.” 

The omnic felt his wires flare up in heat, the module lighting up within his vision. His vocaliser cuts out as he speaks. “You-... serious.” He was weak, you truly had caught him when he least expected it.

A sly laugh escapes you as you trail your fingers on that same tubing over his hips. A gentle squeeze that sent a wave of euphoria over his body. He shudders at the contact. 

“How far can we take this?” Leaning over, you tap the holopad, pulling up the module that Ramattra had kept locked deep inside of his systems. From there, you had full access to his sex drive. “Oh, Ramattra. How long have you been like this?” 

His system fights back, or attempts to, but your software was stronger this time, he can barely move his hands or arms. 

With one tap, you send a wave of ecstasy throughout the omnic and his back arches involuntarily, a garbled, static moan escaping from his vocaliser. 

“Hm?” You smirk at him, letting the holopad go as you return your hands to his body, tracing the pads of your fingers against his metal bracing. You could feel him shake with each careful, calculated stroke. 

Ramattra can only glare at you, optics looking at your blurry features as he tries to adjust the settings. 

“Ah, ah. I don’t think so.” You override his attempts before moving closer to him, hands dipping between the braces as they move towards his back. The exposed cables there were begging to be touched and with one tap, a spark of electricity surges through Ramattra’s core. 

“S-Stop that-!” He demands, though his tone suggests that he does not mind the feeling. 

He doesn’t know what to do. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot get rid of you from inside of his systems. He tries an alternative route but there was no success there either. Deep inside, however, he did like the feeling of being vulnerable, having someone touch him like the way you are doing. It felt pleasurable. 

Ramattra tries one more time, searching through any and all coding to find a weak spot and when he finally stumbles upon it does he take immediate action. His systems work hard to destroy your virus but the want to keep the touching going slows down the process. 

He needs you. 

He wants you.

He gives in.

The omnic sits there, allowing himself to be lost in the moment. The feeling of your hands exploring his body heightened his senses. His servos twitch before slowly making their way to your hips, holding you in place.

“Someone is enjoying this.” You smirk, dragging your fingers over the pistons on his neck. 

“Shut up.” His vocaliser betrays him once more, another static moan escaping him as his head tilts back against the wall. 

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” 

It took Ramattra a while to respond, but when he did, it confirmed everything you ever wondered. 

“Yes…” His grip on your hips tighten slightly, indicating that he didn’t want you to stop for any reason. 

He feels you grinding against his pelvic plate, possibly chasing your own high but the way you squeezed and teased him said otherwise. Then it clicks in his head. This was about him reaching his orgasm after several long years of nothingness. You knew how long it had been for him and how much he craved it.

Your one hand was tangled in his cabled hair as the other trails back down towards his hips. You feel him jerk, he wants the contact to last as you pull back, a familiar heat pooling in your stomach. 

“Ramattra…” 

“Seems like you cannot hold on for much long either.” He states with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

A flush appears on your cheeks as you squeeze his tubing once more, a little harder than last time. 

The omnic jerks his hips, pressing further into you as he moans out, vocaliser stuttering as he tries to keep it together.

“Such sweet noises… To think the Null Sector leader could sound like this…” Another tug at his cables causes him to moan loudly. 

You glance at the holopad whilst the omnics head was tilted backwards; his systems were lit up, errors appearing as you manhandle his wires, pinching and twisting them. It brought you joy, a satisfaction coursing through your veins as you realise how much power you truly hold over him in this moment. 

Another squeeze had the holopad flash black which causes you to look back at him. His vocaliser cuts mid moan, the lights on his forehead were off, fans were slowing down, yet his hold on your hips stayed. You had caused him to crash. 

Part of you panicked, but the moment the lights flickered on again, a soft orange before red, the panic was overridden with a sense of accomplishment.

His vocaliser clicks before he speaks. “No human should mess around with machinery too advanced than their mind and body can handle.” 

Your eyes widen as you realise that him rebooting meant that your virus was no longer in affect. His grip on your thighs gets tight, bruises already beginning to form under the skin. He pulls himself free from the wires connected to him, grabbing both of your wrists with one hand before pinning you down on the floor, one metal thigh pressed up against your sex. His other hand toys with the waistband of your pants as he speaks out in an intimidating tone.

“Perhaps it is time for me to teach you a lesson.”

—

KOFI