[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Faire. g-rated today, lol.]
17: chaos
'Daddy! Tiger!'
John, who had been focused on his eReader, finds his daughter standing in front of him with a manic light in her eye. 'Tiger!'
He looks around the sitting room until his eyes land on the plush tiger Sherlock had gifted her those weeks ago, then he holds it out to her. 'Say please, Rosie.'
She grabs onto it and waddles off, definitely not saying anything resembling please. John rolls his eyes, lips twitching.
Two days later, she refuses to leave the flat, which is new and different. 'No, Daddy! Tiger will be lonely!'
John drops his head in defeat. 'Sherlock, will you--' Sherlock reappears, holding the toy, before John has a chance to finish the sentence. 'Thank you,' he says tiredly.
And so forth.
'D'you think she's got an imaginary friend tiger?' he ponders aloud as he and Sherlock wait behind a delicious-smelling Burmese restaurant for some counterfeiters. 'She seems awfully keen.'
'Hmm,' is Sherlock's non-answer, and John huffs, watching as the detective's mind churns through the facts of the case and completely ignores everything else. Some things never change, John thinks. Thank god.
Luckily (?), the mystery is solved the very next day.
Everyone in the household is very sleepy and warm, recharging from the excitement of the past week, so the sitting room is quiet and peaceful in a way it rarely is.
Which means, of course, that it must be shattered.
'Tiger!' Rosie suddenly shrieks from Sherlock's lap, and slides off so quickly she loses her balance but scrambles back up, unfazed, to shamble towards their visitor.
Which is a cat.
A rotund, wide-eyed, orange-striped cat.
'Tiger!' his daughter yells again, and the cat is off like a shot.
'Whoa there,' John says, scooping Rosie up and turning to follow the path of the creamsicle tornado. It's swift, the cat disappearing (back?) into Sherlock's room with alacrity, but surprisingly destructive.
John quickly assesses the aftermath while Rosie squirms to go after her new best friend. The skull is on the ground, books and papers are absolutely everywhere, a couple frames have jumped off the walls somehow, Sherlock's spindly music stand has wilted in terror, and Rosie's toys are, if it's even possible, even more of a chaotic mess than they'd been minutes before.
John closes his eyes and prays for patience. Both his and Sherlock's. But then he hears--
He opens his eyes to find Sherlock laughing. Doubled over laughing, in fact.
'Are you…' John asks dubiously, eyeing him. '... all right? Did it destroy something you hated?'
Sherlock snorts. 'No, no, it's just--' He puts his hands on his hips and clears his throat, the grin echoing on his face. 'Twenty years ago, if you'd told me I'd one day not only be sober, but with a partner and child and now a housepet--' He barks out another laugh, seemingly unable to stop himself.
John grins at the word "partner," then clocks the rest of the sentence. 'Wait-- We're keeping it?'
'Yes!' Rosie contributes with gusto. 'Keeping the tiger!'
Sherlock strides over and plucks Rosie out of John's arms. 'Yes, we are. Inasmuch as one can keep a cat used to the out of doors,' he amends. 'What shall we name him, Rosamund?'
'His name is Reginald,' Rosie says. Or at least, John thinks that's what she says. She's barely two and a half, after all, and John still sometimes feels like she's speaking a foreign language.
Sherlock, though, nods as if he heartily agrees. 'Reginald is a fine name. Your father will have to go and procure some food, a box, and probably some flea-preventative, and then our new friend Reginald will be all set.'
John starts to protest, but both his daughter and Sherlock turn big eyes on him, and he has absolutely no chance. 'Yeah, sure,' he says dryly. 'You can hold down the fort while I do so?'
Sherlock waves a hand, already moving on to walk Rosie around the room, presumably assessing damage. 'Of course.'
'Right.' John shrugs on his coat and heads out.
The last thing he hears is, 'Now, did you know, Rosamund, that a group of tigers is known as an "ambush" or a "streak"?'
Child, partner, cat, John contemplates as he steps out into the grey brightness. It's exactly what he'd thought for himself twenty years ago. Except... nothing like that at all.
Thank god.
[❤️]
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do you go with word of god about how tom would have been better off if merope lived and raised him or that it would have been even worse for him and merope would have become infatuated because of his resemblance to tom riddle sr? (Similar to how part of the fandom believes snape would be if harry resembled lily lmao) which of do you think its more interesting route?
thank you very much for the ask, anon!
i go for the first of the two options - that merope living would have been so much better for wee tom riddle jr. - not because it's what jkr says, but because i tend to loathe any interpretation of merope's character which undermines the fact that so much of her life could have been changed at numerous crucial moments by anyone connected to the wizarding state giving a fuck.
merope is a teenage girl who lives in abject poverty, has a treatable medical condition [exotropia - eyes which stare in different directions] for which she clearly hasn't received any medical care, is denied an education, is subjected to physical violence by her father right there on the canon page, and is implied in canon to be subjected to incestuous sexual violence by her father and/or brother. the state has numerous opportunities to remove her from this experience - when marvolo fails to respond to her hogwarts letter, when bob ogden visits the gaunts - and yet doesn't, and while i don't think that just being taken away from morfin and marvolo would have solved everything, it would have given her the safety to start healing...
i get why the idea of merope as this sinister, unhinged, devouring, unchangeable bundle of malevolence, who would destroy her own son by becoming infatuated with him, is compelling when the genre demands it to be - i've written her as a folk-horror villain myself, and she was perfect for the role - but in fics which aren't intentionally going for that sort of supernatural, dark fairytale, horror-story vibe... i don't think it hits.
merope's great tragedy - much like her son's - is that she is someone capable of and longing for a normal life, but who is denied this by the corrosive forces of grief, poverty, abuse, and indifference and who goes on to perpetuate harm in turn.
as i've said elsewhere, her rape [and we should call it what it is] of tom riddle sr. doesn't actually need to have any undercurrent of sadistic, unhinged infatuation to be both morally abhorrent and canon-coherent - her treatment at her father and brother's hands would hardly have given her an understanding of consent or bodily autonomy [and might also have made her believe that drugging a man until you can totally control him is the only way to prevent him hurting you], while the fact that the state just leaves her on her own after marvolo and morfin are arrested [with - presumably - no income to speak of] means that she can be understood as seeing tom sr. as her only escape from sliding ever further down the ladder of destitution.
does that mean that she didn't also - selfishly - desire tom sr.? absolutely not. it just means that i find it much more interesting when the idea of her wanting him for herself is given equal weight with all the other things in her life which shape her character - and that i also find it much more interesting when these forces are recognised as commonplace, human, and having pretty much nothing to do with magic.
[the state would not - after all - have had to raise a wand in order to unravel the abuse to which she is subjected... since it does this all the time in the real world - and i am definitely a sucker for stories which acknowledge that the greatest flaws in the wizarding world don't depend in the slightest on magic, but on human corruption.]
if she'd survived childbirth - while i'm certainly not suggesting that i think she'd have been a flawless mother, nor that the absence of a wizarding welfare state wouldn't have made their lives incredibly difficult - i think it's legitimately implausible to suggest that she'd have done anything other than love her son as her son [so, without any incestuous vibe].
[her comment - "i hope he looks like his papa" - is, i think, meant as mrs cole takes it - that she recognises that she's someone who isn't conventionally attractive by any means, and that she knows that tom riddle sr. is.]
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Thoughts~
Bonnie being angry and disappointed at Freddy when Cassie helps bring him back only for him to see the destruction and decay of his family and home that Freddy allowed to happen because of Gregory, and breaks up with him.
Bonnie later slowly starts falling in love with Proto Freddy (maybe a bit of it is Bonnie projecting but he's def falling) instead.
And Freddy can see it happening from where he is.
Gay drama~
(Long post. I went off on one lmao and can't use read mores on my phone, sorry mobile users)
Ohhh that's a fun one! Bonnie rebounding onto Protobear and after a while those feelings become real... he deserves it honestly. He deserves a happy ending after everything, and so does Protobear! Bet that's an emotional rollercoaster to get through though... That party doesn't sound fun... For them anyway. Very fun for us though! Sucks to be them!
You know what else is fun for this? Bonnie falling for whoever Freddy believed deactivated him. Freddy treating someone differently before the events of SB, and side eying them all the time, not trusting them at all because of what the must have done to Bonnie... It must have been them! They're the only one the makes sense! They're the one that made him disappear and is trying to act like everything's normal! They must be to blame! They took his Bonnie from him and won't tell him what they did or where he is! Whether he's right or not is irrelevant, if he believes it's true, he's going to want nothing to do with them! They need to stay away from Bonnie!
And now here he is. Watching Bonnie flirt with that person. Be it Monty, Roxy, Moon, Chica, whoever. Freddy finally saying out loud what he's felt he's known for a long time now, that this animatronic killed him, how could Bonnie possibly even still look at them, never mind fall in love with them after that?!
Bonnie's face falls flat. He turns to Freddy and stares him right in the eyes. "They didn't do it, Freddy." or even, "They did it to save me, Freddy. What did you do?"
Absolutely devastating. The gay drama is so good
On another note, this is making me think of Protobear and Roxy being fucking hilarious. "Hey, you wanna really freak him out?" one of them asks and they start fake dating in front of Freddy to piss him off. Like they're the most over the top, mushy couple with the most insufferable nicknames, trying so hard not to laugh their asses off, and the first one to crack loses. Everyone gets in on it. Whaaaaat?? Roxy and Protobear?? Oh they're sooooo in love so so so in love, they're not pretending, they would never pretend!!
Jskdndk they get Cassie in on it and she starts calling them mum and dad 2 and Freddy is pointedly trying to leave the room as quickly as possible, but as usual, the fucking doors aren't letting him out again. They're always on the blink now, it's absolutely never Roxy using her security clearance to play Musical Doors with him. Nope. Never. Look at their fake mushy romance boy, you can't escape.
Freddy has never been more confused and sickened in his life. He's always hated Roxy and Roxy's always hated him, this is the worst thing to have to watch ever. He's even more upset if Bonnie pretends to be their partner as well, and even more so if Roxy was who he assumed deactivated him. This is a nightmare scenario and he's being so brave about it.
Sat there trying so hard not to say a word. He's so fine. Not glaring at all. No no no, he's not staring listlessly at them, he's just trying to contact maintenance via the network, obviously. He's not resisting the urge to grimace and not wishing the floor would swallow him up right now. Absolutely not. He would never. He's so so so happy for them. Yup. So so happy. Could not be happier. Why won't these fucking doors open?!
You could apply the fake dating to Protobear and Bonnie specifically too. Bonnie's going through a rebound, and he knows it, so he stays away from Protobear for a while. He tries to take care of himself and the others are right there to help him out the best they can. When he's feeling better, he starts gradually spending more time with Protobear (who has had the situation of Bonnie and Freddy explained to him and is very understanding about it) and the two start slowly building a friendship. Slowly, so as to not rush Bonnie through anything. Protobear himself has walked away from several hangouts because he can tell that Bonnie is struggling, even if he won't admit it, they're handling this with the utmost care...
But then Bonnie, Roxy, Monty and Chica, the four that should never be trusted without supervision, get talking. Bonnie is laughing at these three clowns telling him all about how they're fucking with Freddy for fun, and let him in on some of their schemes. They're hilarious, and he would have thought so before everything happened too, even if he did think they were a bit mean at times. I mean, rallying a bunch of kids to gang up on Freddy in their Fazerblast game as a 'super secret mission' is a touch mean, right? Not anymore. He deserves it.
But then they get to thinking. Bonnie wants to try messing with him too. They bring him in on some of their dastardly plans, and come up with several new ones for him, and believe me, at this time, not a single one of them has the braincell, so you can imagine the bullshit they come up with lmao. He finds this weirdly cathartic. The ability to moderately inconvenience Freddy in funny ways is more fun than he thought it'd be. He was worried it would hurt, worried it would make him think about things too much, and while it does hurt to look at him sometimes... Well his heart is more with his friends than ever now. He feels no desire to be nice to him, or to go back to how things were anymore. He's okay now and this is what makes that real to him...
Then one day it hits him. His own plan to mess with Freddy. Completely his own, the three stooges had nothing to do with this one. It hit him when he was hanging out with Protobear and DJ. What if they were fake dating in front of Freddy? Bonnie and Protobear! Madly in love, with the most sickeningly sweet pet names and the worst pick up lines you've ever heard in your life! DJ thinks that would be pretty mean... But would get him so good, he's a surprisingly petty guy sometimes. Protobear agrees and is completely up for this, it sounds hilarious, but... is Bonnie sure he's ready for that? Is he sure he can handle that?
They think on it a bit and talk to the others about it, who think that's fucking genius but have the same concerns as Protobear. Sunny thinks it's a bit much (and he's probably right) but is very excited to play along with this. He loves playing pretend, he's where Cassie gets it from. When they decide they're gonna do it, they set a few boundaries just in case, make a safe word for if they feel they start going too far with it, and swear to eachother to call it off if it all starts getting too much... Or maybe too real.
Oh my god they have so much fucking fun with it. Protobear has never laughed so hard in his life. The others joining in, helping them pull this off, and building on the joke too make it even more fun! They're having a blast and Freddy is suffering greatly! Customer service mode can't save him now!
But after a while, things start to change. Some of the flirting becomes a little too heartfelt. The insistence that they're not actually a thing becomes less frequent. The act starts to spill over into their everyday lives. Suddenly, they're not so sure this is still a joke anymore. Suddenly, the overdramatic cuddles last until long after Freddy has left the room. Suddenly, they're starting to wonder what it be like to be together for real.
Realisation hits and oh god oh no oh fuck this was NOT the PLAN god DAMN IT
So much fun to be had here!
One more funny one: instead of just Roxy or Bonnie pretending to be with Protobear, what if it's everyone? Protobear has one giant polycule going on where everyone apparently adores him and he dotes on everyone cause he loves them all so so so much. Freddy is staring in disbelief at the 'romantic' cuddle pile Protobear is right in the centre of like this is the most normal thing in the world. It's a Plex wide competition to see who can be the most insufferable in a fake relationship and whoever cracks first loses. It's a team effort! A coordinated attack! And sometimes they actually do fluster Protobear and eachother they're all having fun!
I'd like to call this plan the Protocule :)
(Also, hi jellycreamjammedart! This is the first post I've made today so you may wanna check I've not reblogged with more additions later on. I know you get online kinda late in my timezone, or at least that's when I tend to see you around, so saying this is just in case!)
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Best sisters, in any universe
(A.k.a: ever wonder what happens when a mermaid and a human have kids together?)
((as always, click for better quality))
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Lockwood thoughts - feel free to move on.
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Something that confuses me (and alarms me a bit ngl) is the assumption I see everywhere that, once Mike moved to Seattle, he just stopped talking to Harvey. I wasn’t saying anything because there had been no confirmation either way (although why Mike would do something like that, or why Harvey would keep calling if he had, I wouldn’t know, so I just assumed he didn’t), but now I’ve watched If The Shoe Fits and there’s confirmation that they were still talking (with what had sadly become Suits-typical disregard for canon -in this case, Mike being confused about the Paula thing when he was actually in NY for it- notwithstanding. We could always assume Harvey didn’t tell him all that went down back then and now he did), so...?
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Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi
Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.
Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.
The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):
The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.
In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)
Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.
I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.
The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.
The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)
Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.
Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.
To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.
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in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy
for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:
the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)
the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop
there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial
this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs
flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected
but, eventually, it opens!
well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?
the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?
as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:
only 10 items could be donated per day
points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each
this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless
r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win
people were Not Happy about this
not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least
however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.
i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already
because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day
BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.
this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them
so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison
it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION
So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring
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Have you heard about the Polish Train company, Newag, and the bullshit it turns out they got up to?
So, the regional rail operator Koleje Dolnośląskie bought some Newag Impuls back in 2016 . In late 2021, some of them need to have major maintenance done, as they've been in service a while. So the company SPS (Serwis Pojazdów Szynowych) gets the contract to fix them. They basically take the train apart, replace a bunch of it, following all the rules in the documentation Newag gave them, and... it won't move. The train says everything is fine, the brakes are off, there's plenty of power, but you push the throttle up and it won't move.
SPS spends a while trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong, with no luck. So they hire some hackers from the Polish security group Dragon Sector. Dragon Sector figures out how to get into the code of the computer system that runs the train, and OH MY GOD.
So it turns out there's a secret train-lock system. If it's on, the train won't move. This will be triggered in some situations you might think are normal: the clocks are wrong, the serial numbers of the various parts have changed, and a firmware mismatch between the main computer and the power system. Now, the fact that it makes sense to not run the train in these situations until someone can check it? that doesn't extend to the fact the train uses a SECRET lock system, rather than just popping up an error message telling you what's wrong. There's also the problem that while these are all potential error problems, they can't be cleared by anyone with the technical manuals, which are supposed to cover everything about how to run these trains. Only Newag themselves can reset this system.
Which, you know, keeps SPS from properly fixing them. Only Newag can fix them now, but not because SPS lacks any technical ability, but because Newag sabotaged their own trains. But don't worry: it gets worse.
So now that Dragon Sector knows what's happening, they get to look at other trains. It turns out the trains aren't all running the same software, and there are other tricks in there.
One of them is a "how long has the train been stopped?" check. If the train hasn't hit 60 km/h in 10 days, the train locks itself and won't move until Newag can clear it. So, like, if a train is ever out of service, like it's going to a repair place... it'll break itself. Unless the repair place is owned by Newag.
But two of the trains go further: See, these trains have GPS built in, right? You may be able to guess where this is going...
THEY JUST MAKE THE TRAIN CHECK IF IT IS PARKED AT THEIR COMPETITORS' REPAIR YARD AND BREAK ITSELF IF IT WAS.
The sheer audacity of this move. This is frighteningly bullshit anti-competition self-sabotage.
This has, obviously, made some parts of the Polish government to start investigating this. Newag may be (and hopefully will be) in a lot of trouble.
For more info, there's a great video of a presentation by the three people from Dragon Sector who did the hacking, which was presented at the 37th Chaos Communication Congress in Germany.
Ars Technica also has an article on it, but it predates the presentation so it doesn't have some of the later details.
Anyway, the good news is that in the end the hackers at Dragon Sector were able to unlock most of the trains: A few had additional trickery that they didn't want to hack around, because it might break the train's certification. For the others, they discovered undocumented "cheat codes" in the software that they could use to bypass the secret lockouts... presumably the same ones that Newag would have used when they "repaired" trains.
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Siblings by trial and choice
So @noir-renard posted a prompt in Haunting Heroes a little while ago that's had me in a perpetual choke hold ever since.
When the Portal ZAPS Danny, he doesn't just get turned into a half ghost; he gets catapulted halfway across the galaxy. So now he's stuck on an alien ship, trying to deal with new powers, and desperately searching for a way home.
And my immediate thought was "How can I make this about Starfire?", from which everything spiraled.
[Click the pictures for better quality!]
Having assumed that the portal wasn't even supposed to be functional, Danny had absolutely no basis for anything that was happening to him. Not his new look or powers, not for wherever he was, and certainly not for the predicament of where he landed-- A ship he would later come to know as belonging to the slavers known as the Gordanians.
For all Danny knew, he certainly wasn't human anymore, and he might not have even been in the same dimension either; while Earth had been seeing more and more interactions with aliens, he'd never seen any quiet like these, and his parents had said that the portal was designed to view a whole other world.
And that was terrifying! He was Danny Fenton, just fourteen, and so far out of his depth it wasn't even funny. If it weren't for Koriand'r then Danny didn't know how he would have kept it all together.
As it were, Kor'i had already been enslaved for four years by this point. She knew what it was like to suddenly be cut off from everything she'd ever known, and the torment that was awaiting this strange boy that had appeared in a flash of green light. So even though she had nothing to give, Kor'i stuck by Danny's side.
Together, for the next two years, they fed each other hope.
Naturally, returning to Earth was a big ordeal for Danny, and by proxy for Kor'i as well. Over the two years they spent enduring harsh labor and torture from both their Gordanian captors and the Psions, Danny had confided in all sorts of stories about his home world and vice versa Kor'i about Tamaran. After confirming that he hadn't been transported to another reality, and that this was his Earth, Danny had been so excited to return home and to introduce Kor'i to his friends and family.
But while Earth was still the same, home... was not.
His parents were in jail; not only for their unethical and code violating lab, but because they were so neglectful to the point that minors were able to get into the lab unsupervised and one of them— Danny —was able to access their faulty machine and, presumably, died.
Jazz got picked up by the state, but quickly managed to get herself emancipated and now lived in some other state attending college.
The Manson's moved. Sam was a wreck and not coping well at all; her parents were considering having her committed to an institution for a bit to help her last anyone had heard.
The Foley's couldn't afford to move, so Tucker had to carry on with life as well as he could. He's quiet now, not as verbose and shameless as before, more of a hermit than anything.
And since he's been presumed dead, and can't figure out how to disprove that, honestly, Danny doesn't know how to pick back up where he left off. He can't. Because everything, including him, has changed as well.
But, like she's always done since the moment they met, Kor'i was there for him. And now they have a new family in the Teen Titans as well.
Bonus:
Close ups of Phantom and Starfire. Danny's suit design is a mixture of some of his original concept art and @the-stove-is-on-fire's designs :)
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Dark Is The Night
Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.
tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping
All he could think about was you.
It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.
He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.
And yet.
And yet all he could think about was you.
It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.
After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.
But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.
The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.
He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.
It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.
Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.
And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.
"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.
"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.
"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.
He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.
He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.
"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.
He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.
"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.
"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.
"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.
"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.
"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"
You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.
"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"
"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"
"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.
"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."
You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.
"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.
"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"
"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."
His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.
A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.
"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."
The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.
Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.
You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.
He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.
And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.
But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.
And he was coming back for you.
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Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.
It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.
The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.
Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...
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hii i hope you’re doing good and i love your writing sm!!!
i was wondering if you could write smth where reader has an attitude and ellie isnt having it so r mumbles smth like “then get rid of it” and ellie fucks the attitude out of reader w her strap🙈
hi love, tysm!! and ofc i can. enjoy!
warnings: mdni dirty talk, rough sex, hair pulling, daddy kink, ellie’s a brat tamer… hmmmm yea
—
You had been having an attitude all week. Truthfully, you were frustrated with… well, everything. But whenever Ellie would pester you about it, it just annoyed you even more.
“It’s nothing.” You’d grumble. But Ellie knew that it was obviously not nothing, because she knows her girl like the back of her hand.
Today, while you were sitting on the couch, Ellie came up and changed the channel — much to your disapproval.
“I was watching that,” You whine, narrowing your eyes at her. The brunette merely shrugs.
“Our show is coming on. It’s five.” She says. You throw your hands up.
“Seriously? You couldn’t ask me first?” You comment, rolling your eyes.
“What’s your problem? I mean, really.” She says. “You’ve had an attitude this entire week.”
“I have not had an attitude.”
“Jesus,” She mutters, tossing the remote to the side. “Fine, sure. Whatever.”
You stare at her as she gets up from the couch, presumably heading towards the bedroom.
“I haven’t!”
“You literally fucking have!” She exclaims. As she turns around, she hears your lowly voice.
“Then fucking get rid of it.”
At first, she halts, then turns on her heels. She cocks her head to the side.
“What’d you just say?” She asks.
You look off to the side, refusing to make eye contact with Ellie.
“I said get rid of it.”
—
Everything from earlier was a blur. You had no recollection of the way her stare hardened, the way her voice dropped an octave as she beckoned you to the room with nothing more then a “In. Now.”
Under her, you couldn’t even remember what you were mad about. It was like the thoughts in your head meddled together and disappeared with every stroke of her toy cock, with every thrust she made into your tight cunt.
“Fuck,” She groaned, messily pumping herself into you as she watched you cry out and arch underneath her.
You were babbling endlessly about how it was “too much,” to which Ellie clamps her hand over your mouth.
“Shut,” She grunts. Another thrust. “Up.”
The noises she was pulling out of you were insane — dirty, and so, so raw. And she relished in every second of it.
“You’re such a goddamn brat, y’know that?” She says through clenched teeth. “Huh?”
“Ellie—“ You whined, fingernails coming down on her arms, digging down into the flesh of her wrists.
“Answer me.” She hisses, thrusting so far into you that you jump. But her hold on you is strong; she was making sure that you weren’t going anywhere.
“Y-Yes!” You squealed. “Fuck— yes!”
Her hand balls up in your hair, pulling you back against the pillow so she could get the perfect view of your face.
“So fuckin’ slutty,” She mutters. “You gonna apologize for being a fuckin’ brat?”
“Y-Yeah—“
“Do it,” She grunts. “Tell me how sorry you are, and maybe I won’t fuck you into next week.”
A taunting chuckle escapes from her lips, green eyes flicking down to the way your mouth hung open in pleasure.
“Or maybe that’s what you want, huh?” She groans. “Want daddy to fuck you ‘til you can’t walk straight?”
You gasped, merely nodding your head. Your orgasm was close, and your mind was going foggy.
“Fucking say it,” Ellie grunts. “C’mon.”
“Yes, daddy,” You mewl, pussy clenching down hard as your eyes squeezed shut. “Pleasepleaseplease—“
“Fuuuck,” She drawls, pressing her face into your neck as she finds herself having to use more and more force to fully fuck herself past your grip. “Atta girl... so fucking good.”
Needless to say, it was gonna be a long night.
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