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hanasnx · 4 months

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Waaaaitttt I saw the Hayden suggestions and I’ve unashamedly thought about the very top one many many times cause I’m embarrassingly craving that y/n moment and I’ve gone to a decent amount of cons and met a fair amount of celebs I’ve debated about using one of the pheromone perfumes to meet Hayden. But like yess he sees you during the photo op and he’s instantly drawn to you. He doesn’t pay much attention to that thought cause he’s got a long line to get through and photo ops are fast paced but then when you go up to get your autograph that’s when he can sneakily make a move. When you get an autograph the handlers write your name for the celeb on a sticky note and usually the celeb doesn’t take it off so like I’m thinking he quickly scribbles his number on it and you’re so star struck you don’t notice it until you’re away from his table..but that’s how you end up in his hotel room that night with your legs up over your head.

-Bimbo Baggins

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: i gatekept this message it was so good

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN tries to stay in his lane. Over the years he's gotten exceptionally good at minding his business, minding his manners, and staying out of trouble. Mixing business with pleasure is a very steep cliff, one he rarely dares to approach. However, you had caught his eye in a way that hadn't occurred in a very long time. To give everyone fair treatment during these photo ops, his attention is solely on them during, and he did not mind at all holding your gaze when you shook his hand politely. Habitually, when you'd leaned over in front of him to give one of the attendants something he didn't care to look at, he snuck a generous glance at your ass. As soon as you stepped back to stand next to him for the picture, he accommodated you, moving aside so you could tuck under his arm, and scolded himself for giving in to the temptation.

"Can we do a sort of Anidala-wedding scene pose?" you had asked with such hope, gazing up at him with stars in your eyes. He took too long to answer.

"Of course." He nodded as soon as he got a hold of himself. "Can you show me what you mean?"

Gently, you directed him, handling his broad shoulders to turn him towards you so you could look deeply into his eyes for the picture. For one second, he could swear his heart skipped a beat. Next thing he knew, the picture flashed and you were saying your thank yous and goodbyes. A seed of disappointment grew in his chest, but he moved on.

Only to find himself eager sitting in his seat at the sight of you in the autograph line. A grin spreads on his features as you approach his booth.

"Hi again." you exhale, beaming.

"Good to see you." Hayden replies, pointing out the obvious humor of coming across you twice in a row. He's thankful, scribbling his signature onto the picture frame you'd bought earlier right after your photo op with him. A split second decision is made and it gives him no time to second-guess it when he's adding his number to the sticky note. It's his WhatsApp, just to stay safe, but you don't get time to even look at it, your attention solely on him when you thank him again. He nods at you, and watches you walk away. Once more, his eyes flash to your behind and how it sways in your little cosplay outfit.

It's not always about instant attraction for him, he has to get to know the person to know if he truly likes them, but there's something about you that draws him in. He wants to get to know you, even if he might be compromising his privacy. The ball is in your court, all he has to do is wait for you to notice the gift he left on your sticky note.

"What's that?" your friend asks, pointing to your picture frame in your hand. You grin widely at them.

"Hayden Christensen signed my picture with him— Look!" you exclaim, raising the item into view only to see what your friend was actually referring to. Your expression drops at the sight of ten numbers in a recognizable pattern. A phone number. You face away from your friend in an instant, keeping it to yourself and shielding it with your body. "No way. No fucking way—"

"Is that a phone number? Lemme see—!"

You pinch your shoulder, jerking it away from their touch as you ogle at the sticky note. "There's no way..." It's a dream, it's a fantasy, you're going to wake up any second and then have to get ready to go to con to meet Hayden Christensen for the first time.

"Relax! It's probably the staff member that wrote your name on the sticky note!" your friend reasons, poking their head around your neck and through your hair to sneak a peek. "'Sides, he's like a thousand years old."

"Be quiet for a second, lemme think." you say as you stride away and out of the exit area, scanning your surroundings for a place to chill out and sit.

"If you're that bothered, we should test it! C'mon."

"Okay, okay. Let me find service I have to download an app."

You don't even know how it happened, all of it was a blur. One moment you were texting to verify the number was who you thought it was and ignored your gut feeling when you were texted back two simple words: "Call me."

With all the power within you, you tried to remain as calm as possible while on the phone with him. Constantly, you reminded yourself that "He's just some guy." So you could fathom having a real conversation with him. It turned into him inviting you out, somewhere respectful and secluded to talk after his panel, snowballed into visiting his hotel bar, and then up to his room to sit on his balcony.

"You mind if a smoke?" he'd asked. You shook your head. And it was the first time you'd tried a cigarette. The end still wet from his lips around it, and he cupped his big hands around the mouth of it so he could light it for you.

It must've been the alcohol, or the long day, but when you'd kissed him you were sure you were possessed. His lips were soft like silk, warm and plump, and he slid his hand behind your neck to make sure you couldn't run away. Tongues coated in nicotine curled against one another, experimenting as if afraid to turn the other one away.

Taller than you, you had to crane your neck, but he held you so carefully. Gentler still even when he draw you away while your lips were still pouted and pliantly awaiting his return. "I'm sorry, I apologize. I don't know what came over me." he exhaled, releasing you. But you didn't listen, clutching onto collar of his jacket to draw him right back in.

"Oh, right there. Right there!" you plea, clawing at the hotel pillows above your head as Hayden rolls his hips into you. Big hands tuck into the crooks of your knees, folding your legs over you to hit that spongy spot inside you. Cunt up to the sky, he's slamming into you like he's done it before, a sheen of sweat to his forehead. "That's so fucking good, Hayden," you draw out the words in a sultry whine, and for one second you can't believe that you get to say those words right now. Quickly drawn back in to the moment as soon as he bottoms out for the umpteenth time, screwing your fanatic brains out.

"You feelin' good? Yeah?" he exhales, and his tongue forms over his upper lip as he splays a hand under your ass. It feels so big on you as it lifts your hips up into his thrusts. "Keep those legs up for me." You do as you're told, replacing his touch on your thighs to make sure, and you overlay one of his hands. A strangely intimate and endearing detail he takes to heart, watching your little fingers grab at his in the crook of your knee while he's yanking your cunt up by your asscheek.

"Please don't stop, please!" You want to stay here all night, all next day, forever. You want to live in this little bubble.

In a way, he helps you to achieve that by giving you his real number when it's time to leave his hotel room, and makes you promise to take his call whenever he's in the area again.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#bimbo-baggins #tw age gap #indy: drabbles #ch: hayden #hayden christensen drabble #hayden christensen prompt #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x fem reader #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen fanfiction #reader insert

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miredball · 11 months

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no you guys by the series finale years and years probably decades down the line after the hubbub and awards and stars and success of the bear and their own respective careers syd and carmy are gonna return to their sheridan catering and beef of chicagoland roots. there’s gonna be a hole in the wall spot (as much as two superstar chefs can have a hole in the wall spot) in some other corner of chicago serving unique and tasteful and good yet simple food. people food. family food buddies food lunch break food tired summer heat hunger food. carmys vintage denim is framed up on the wall. family photos. sydney embroiders names of their regulars on a tapestry. people come down in groves every single day with lines looping around blocks. sometimes it’s quiet and it’s nice too because their daughter does her homework at one of the tables and looks over at them every so often to ask for a refill on her peach iced tea and a pat on the head from her dad. marcus visits from copenhagen as much as he can but it’s always on random days and on short notice but his desserts are coveted so the restaurant has to make a group chat with all the guests who wish to be notified. it’s like on whatsapp or something because not everyone has an iPhone. tina and ebra eventually retire from the bear and they each have a grandchild who come in during summer break and learn under the renowned adamu-berzatto duo (with pay). richie is in love with the bear and the upscale and rigorous and intentional pace of service but syd and carmys hole in the wall sells tshirts ala the beef and richie buys like fifteen “one for each day of the week” “I don’t think that adds up” “well I might get mayo or some shit on it” “you’re gonna get mayo on it EIGHT times?” sugar and her little family come for dinner every week and they all get the exact same thing every single time even their kids it’s almost annoying because like pick something else!this one gets three Michelin stars its first year. reviewers rave articles and more profiles get written. a netflix show features them for an episode. more and more awards for the restaurant and both chefs. its nice and syd and carmy are grateful for all of it. but theres this group of old ladies who come in after bingo on wednesdays who pull them out of the kitchen and pass on their own secret family recipes always handwritten on some kind of ripped paper or a napkin in swirly old timey cursive that syd and carmy can barely read. in these moments the blood red michelin star plaque by the door almost pales in comparison. almoooost.

#excuse my word vomit that one textpost really did open my eyes to the gospel truth #this is a family business grassroots homegrown community based etc etc #etc etc this is a FAMILY!!!#the bear fx #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #sydney x carmy

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doctorguilty · 4 months

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I keep forgetting to post this, but if you're unaware, Resistbot is an EXCELLENT tool (for USA residents only) for contacting reps, especially on a mass scale and if you're a disabled person like me and have to do most of your activism remotely. Every day I check the most recent letters and bills, and spend some time signing them and sending them to my reps, often drafting my own.

You can look at trending petitions written by other users, such as this one, sign them via SMS text, Apple Messenger, WhatsApp, Instagram, Telegram, and Messenger, and email them to all your reps based on your state of residence, as well as the president, governors, and so on. You can also use premium features to send them via fax or postage mail.

Letters and petitions will give you an image like this, which is great for easy sharing on social media, or printing and slaptagging.

They have an AI tool as well, where you can send their bot a link to an article, give it your stance on the issue, and it will generate pre-written letter for you. They usually come out concise but pretty solid, but premium offers manual editing and adding to them! (though it's also an option to just use the generated letter as a base for typing up your own for free and sending that)

There's a number of other commands that are useful, such as one that will send you a list of bills currently being introduced to the house, a link to said bills, and the opportunity to create a letter based on one. You can also use it to check your voter status, register to vote, and find polling locations.

Premium is $7/month and very worth it imo (I am subscribed, you also get a free enamel pin), it offers even more tools and ease of use.

I encourage you to check it out, it goes beyond just the use of contacting about Palestine and such, it's also great for contacting your state legislatures about other important issues such as abortion access and trans healthcare, and keeping up to date with current events in a very easily accessible way.

#seth speaks #resistbot #palestine #gaza #social justice #politics #current events

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thedirtygridd · 2 years

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CHARLES LECLERC’S BREAK-UP STORY…FEATURING YOU (FIC) PART 1

WARNINGS: 18+ Strong sexual content/Fictional

Summary: As per the breaking news today, Charles Leclerc has broken up with his girlfriend and he invites you (you are a close friend of Charles) onto his yacht for what you think is a party with his friends to help him feel better…but it turns out to be a lot more than that, and so does your “friendship”…

You found out about the news that Charles and Charlotte had split up on Instagram, while walking in the streets of Monaco on a December afternoon. You couldn’t believe it. You had been friends with Charles for a few years now, you were good friends and you knew him well. It took you by surprise that they split, because their relationship always seemed so strong. You quickly WhatsApp messaged Charles after reading the news.

“Hey CL, I’m so sorry about the news. I’m here if you need any support x”

You pressed send and you immediately saw that he had read the message. “Wow he’s keen!” You thought. He started typing…

“Thanks for the message. Support would be great, maybe come join me and a few others on my yacht later? I’m taking it out for the night, need to clear my head”

You immediately responded saying that you’d definitely join him on his yacht, who could turn that down! And that you’d meet him after you had got changed. Just as you were putting your phone back in your handbag, you noticed he had sent another message.

“Wear a bikini.” the message said. Nothing more, nothing less. You thought that was a bit strange, but of course you’d do as he said, maybe he was planning on having some fun jumping off his yacht and swimming later on.

You quickly went back to your apartment and picked out your favourite bikini - it really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Your body looked insane in it.

Time passed and you eventually pulled up in the harbour and arrived at Charles’ yacht “Monza”

You had been on it before, it was incredible. So big inside, so modern…and so expensive. You stepped onboard, as the yacht immediately started to sail. You could hear music coming from inside, and you noticed a few pairs of high heels on the deck near where you stepped onboard. You slipped your own shoes off as the staff welcomed you onboard. “Charles has asked us to sail out to the cove tonight, he’s in his private area, with a few of his guests if you’d like to join him….” The kind man mentioned.

You found it so cool how he paid people to run his yacht. It was almost like being in a fairytale, he had the dream life. But you still couldn’t forget how much he’d be hurting right now after his separation with Charlotte. You still felt sorry for him and couldn’t wait to give him a friendly hug. As you started walking, another member of staff offered you a glass of champagne. “Charles requested this for his guests. Please enjoy your evening” he said while you wondered into the long corridor that led to his bedroom.

You noticed the music was getting slightly louder as you wondered down the corridor. You noticed even more high heels, dropped all over the floor as you stepped over them.

“Who is Charles with?” You wondered. “Who has he invited to this get together?”

You pulled on the handle of the door to his private bedroom…but it was locked. You could hear strange noises coming from inside over the beat of the music. “Hello! Charles! Let me in!” You shouted as you knocked on the wooden door.

A few seconds past and finally the door slowly opened, you stepped in to be greeted by another girl, wearing her very own small bikini. She was very attractive, you’d never seen her with Charles before. “Hey, charles asked me to come see him, is he in here?”

“Oh yes…he is. But our job is to cheer him up, he was in a foul mood before, are you ready?” the girl said

You thought this was all very strange, you didn’t know who this girl was. She then leant in and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Emily by the way…” she said. As she came closer you noticed how her skin was completely covered in oil…

“What’s the oil about?” You wondered. The girl smirked and took your hand gently and guided you towards the next door, which took you into where his bedroom was. The noises were now getting louder, you tried to see if you could recognise any voices as you stepped towards the door. You could make out girls giggling and what sounded like Charles giving out the occasional deep groan.

“FUCK!” You heard Charles shout before laughing. “Get yourself down…” he added.

What was going on? You wondered. Your head was full of things Racing round. What did Charles invite you to?

And then the door opened and you stepped inside the low lit room. The room also smelt sweaty, as if people had been exercising in there.

This is when you couldn’t believe your eyes… Charles was lying down on his bed, surrounded by naked girls. You counted 4 around his naked body and then a 5th girl was squatting on his face. You could see his tongue smothering her ass as she squatted on him. The girls were pouring hot oil all over each other, while making out with each other and rubbing Charles’ hard cock with it. The bed was drenched wet with oil. Bikini bottoms all over the floor and the bed. You could hear the girls juices slosh around as Charles licked inside her. You noticed drips smothering his face, getting caught in his stubble. You were so shocked…but also so intrigued.

“Oh f-f…uck” charles said while almost choking himself on the other girls juices. She squatted off his face and sat down next to him, completely wrapping her tanned oily legs over his hard abs. “Listen girls…” charles said over the music , you could tell he was quite tipsy. “Listen…this is my good friend…she’s come to join us.” He got distracted as he said this because another girl had placed her ass near his reach, you saw his eyes wonder to her before grunting and giving it a hard SLAP. The sound echoed in the room. “Mhm, good girl” he said while biting his lip. His hand had already left a red imprint on her left cheek, before he continued, while rubbing another girls oily legs. “…This is my good friend, like I-I- said. Come join us baby” he said while lying back down. At the same time, another girl got into place and squatted onto his face. He immediately began smothering his tongue all over her ass and in between the crease of her lips.

You stood there, shocked. You didn’t know what to do. “Charles…I think I’m gonna go upstairs again…”

As you turned to the door, you heard a thud, and before you could even turn around, Charles placed his hands on your waist.

“Hey, hey…” he whispered gently. He had to focus on what he was saying, due to his tipsiness. He turned you to face him as his hands wondered around your body. “Come onnnn, let’s have some fun. Fuck what anyone thinks, this is about all of us. Let’s just fuck…”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying, you had always been great friends, and only friends. You never even dreamt of being with him, it was never in the question.

“You want to know a secret?” He said while another girl rubbed oil into his muscly, sweaty back and wide shoulders.

He brought himself closer to you, as he did, you felt his hard cock hit your leg. “I’ve always wanted to fuck the hell out of you…” he whispered. At the same time, you felt his dick throb and some of his pre-cum drip out. “Here, let’s have a toast…” he grabbed your champagne glass from your hand.

“To fucking!…” he toasted, while the other girls giggled and continued rubbing him up. He took a sip of the champagne before immediately coming into kiss you. As he kissed you, you realised he hadn’t swallowed all of the alcohol. As you made out with him, you traded champagne and saliva between each of your mouths, you felt him untying your bikini as he did it. His tongue was warm and slimy, it felt so good. You enjoyed the warm feeling of his saliva drip into your mouth. You were instantly turned on. His thick fingers had made it down to your pussy and he decided to go straight in there, while you stood making out. You felt his fingers slide deep inside you, right on your G-spot as he wiggled them around. He started with two fingers , but you quickly felt a third slip inside. He was already stretching you out. You grabbed his oily back , struggling to get a firm grip on him, as he finger fucked you.

“Fuck….fuck charles” you said before he picked you up. You quickly lost balance as he carried you, and found yourself grabbing hold of his oily, rock hard biceps as he tensed them while carrying you. He quickly dropped you onto the bed, and spread your legs wide open.

He didn’t wait around, he licked four of his fingers before rubbing his dick in between them, and then he slipped it inside of you. He was so huge, his dick stretched open your tight walls as he forced himself into you. He picked up a full bottle of champagne at this point, took a massive gulp out of it, and then opened his mouth and spit it out onto you. The champagne covered your tits and your belly, the bed was now covered in sweat, oil and champagne. It was chaos.

He continued to thrust his hard cock into you, you couldn’t help but think how lucky Charlotte was to have this man, and how sorry you felt that she couldn’t have him anymore. But that thought was quickly replaced with the intense feeling of you squirting on Charles’ thick cock. You sprayed his abs and chest as you released your fluid. He pulled out of you so he could fully feel your spray.

Once you had stopped, you saw him smothering his hands around his body, rubbing your juices into his pores. You noticed his finger rings had become fully smothered with your juices.

“Suck me off!” he said to the girl next to him. She got down on her knees and took his wet cock into her mouth. He firmly pushed himself inside of her mouth, and held himself there for a few seconds. The girl was gagging on it, spit was flying out the side of her mouth, and Charles was loving every second, you could see it in his eyes.

He pulled himself out of her mouth, and quickly bent down to kiss her. His tongue fully smothered around her mouth and in her mouth. He was determined to lick up all her spit.

He then stood back up, leaving that girl on the floor, and picked up another one. He pushed her against the wall behind the bed and fucked her hard. You could see how intense it was. His back was now covered in red scratches…where we had all been scraping and grabbing him uncontrollably as he fucked us out.

He pulled himself out of the other girl and immediately said “fuck…I’m, i’m really close” you could see sweat dripping off his forehead, and collecting at the side of his nose. Part of you wanted to lick it off him. But before you could even suggest it, he ordered you all to get on your knees. You all did as he said, and he pushed all your faces close together before standing over you and taking long jerks of his wet cock. It didn’t take long before he started to position himself even closer to you all. He aimed his cock right in front of all your faces, before he let out a groan and then released ribbons of white cum , which came shooting out his throbbing tip. You felt your face get covered with his warm milk as you knelt before him. You smelt the scent of it as well as it hit you. The other girls were quick to react to the impressive load by moaning “mhm, fuck yes Charles , give it us…give us your cum. We want it”

And he did…he continued to shoot out cum for at least 10 seconds. Once he stopped he stood there watching us all. The girls , and you, were scooping up the cum like it was gold, sliding it in between your fingers before sucking it off. You noticed how every girl reacted in the same way. They all treated this man like a god. They all wanted his cum.

But Charles was staring at you in particular, and paying the attention to you now. He didn’t seem to notice the other girls, as you sucked a ribbon of cum off your index finger. It tasted warm and salty, it tasted good.

“Come with me” he said to you while reaching his hand out to collect you. He pulled you up, you were still half covered in his cum. You could feel it slowly dripping down your body. He led you to the bathroom, And guided you into the shower. He locked the door behind as he turned the shower on. The water fell like it would in a waterfall, such a posh shower. Marble all over the floor.

“That was fun…but I gotta admit, I’ve had my eyes on your especially” he brought himself closer as he said it , before giving you a kiss. You noticed his face was full of all sorts of slime, but you didn’t care. It was dirty and sexy. He kissed you again before adding “I’ve always wanted to do that with you. I felt like we’ve always had a bond…and yes I know I’m fucking drunk…but I want to do this more with you. See where it goes…” he continued to kiss you. The water from the shower was now dripping down his hair and on his face, it ran down across his sharp jawline. You placed your hands on the side of his wet face as you kissed. You could feel his cock getting hard again on your leg.

“Fuck! I’m horny…” you both said at the same time before bursting out laughing. He missed you some more before turning you around and pushing the palm of his hand on the arch of your back. He pushed your body forward as you stood there, almost putting your face into the wall of the shower. And then you felt his cock enter you again , this time as he fucked you from behind.

He fucked you even faster than he did before, you both groaned as he thrust inside. You felt even tighter from this angle, and he felt even bigger (if that was even possible.) This is when Charles mentioned “I’m gonna fucking cum again…”

You had to quickly interrupt…

“But….b-b-b…Charles! I’m not on birth control…”

As you said it, you felt his cock fill up to breaking point , and then it burst. You felt even more warm, thick ribbons of his milk filling you up

“Fuuuuuck yeah” he groaned as he clenched on your ass cheeks

“Shit, charles…” you said

He turned you back round to face him. He looked exhausted. He had water dripping down his face , his hair was soaked through and very messy

“Charles, I’m not on birth control…” you laughed nervously to try and relieve the stress of the fact…

He wasn’t fully listening, he was too caught up in the lust of the moment.

“I want to fuck you like this every day, you’re fucking beautiful” he said. His cock was still hard at this point, still throbbing, and still dripping with a mixture of cum and pre-cum. You didn’t know how he wasn’t fully empty by now.

“Oh Charles…you’re so cute” you said while wrapping your arms round his scratch- covered, muscly back. “Look at the state of your delicious back” you said to him “full of scratches” you found it hard not to get too turned on by the feeling of his body, it was still all too new a feeling for you to grasp.

“Worth it though” he cheekily said while holding you in his arms. You could tell he was starting to get tired now.

You stood there with the water dripping down both of your warm bodies, as you felt his cum inside you. He had fully filled you up, and you weren’t on any birth control…

You thought to yourself “I came here to try and cheer him up after his hard break up, and now he could’ve impregnated me…on the same day that he split up with Charlotte….” You stood and stared into space as the thoughts wizzed around your head….

What if…………?

To be continued…

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #formula one #charles leclerc imagine #breakup #hotguys #yacht #fantasy men #fanfic #sexyboys

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bergoose · 2 months

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i said this in discord but i think it's important to put here

there was no usability research done for this, at least from what i can see

like absolutely no interest checks were done at all or else I feel like they would have realized this is not feasible or at least the way they did it wasn't

none of the paterons mods knew, barely any fans knew (also there was a leak which makes a little worried for their website security)

what i think they needed was some user research before they did the launch. because all the feedback, the critism, the hate (yes even the hate) is the kinda of feedback that would SHOULD have been given BEFORE. during the production stages not NOW after the launch. it would have made everything a lot smoother for them

(by feedback i mean things like: users are interested in different tiers, users are think the price doesn't justify how much product they're getting with the service, users are confused due to misinformation, etc.)

and like testing and interest checks stuff like this would have been essential to make this launch have a better reaction from the fan base

more UX stuff below the cut but

TL:DR Watcher hire a UX designer please this would have solved all your problems OR JUST DO SOME USER TESTING NEXT TIME JESUS

my biggest thing is there's a lot of companies (big and small) that tend to make these types of big changes (whether it's to better their product, bring in more people, appeal to a new demographic, whatever their goal may be) but in the process they forget their core userbase (in this case Watcher's current audience) which are arguably the most important group to factor in company decisions bc they're the ones that are going to stay long term

idk if I'm making any sense but i hate seeing this trend of what's basically just picking up other companies "trending feature" (for example tiktok becoming popular and all other platforms adopting short form video content, Instagram/Snapchat stories becoming popular and other social media like WhatsApp and Twitter tried it too) only for the feature that originally made them appeally in the first place to fall to the wayside

and the ones who jumped on the trend aren't guaranteed to stay, and now you've lost your loyal userbase

and even tho Watcher didn't do exactly that it still kinda feels like they did u know? I'm certain (and hopeful) this will work out but the execution was just absolutely not it at all, and i wish there was more research done because it helped so much and they wouldn't be bombarded the way they were now

i get it this was something that may have been a long time coming but it is clear that it wasn't ready, both the product and your userbase. also the method of dropping was also absolutely not it

(also i am critiquing it because i want to buy it, i am fortunate enough to be in the position to do so but i won't forever and i know many who also can't and are understandably upset about it)

#watcher #watcher tv #watcher entertainment #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #we are watcher #this is one and only time ive ever ben tempted to tag their account #ux #ux research #us design #vee posts

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rovermcfly · 9 months

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slowly taking more and more steps to not just reduce my phone screentime in general, but also streamline what I look at during that time dramatically. so far I've moved all social media activity to firefox so I don't ever have to see an ad again and removed I believe all discover/news feeds that just happened to come with certain apps/features so I don't passively consume my (algorithmically chosen) news through random inflammatory headlines every time I unlock my phone but rather targeted time I spend watching/reading the proper news (or you know, destiel memes). aside from maybe the instagram feed (that I'm rarely on anyway) I've now pretty much removed all personal algorithm-based experiences from my phone time.

additionally, I'm using my phone in grayscale and power saving mode mostly so I've basically reduced it to the usefulness and appeal of a brick phone (with access only to the clock, camera, gallery, spotify and whatsapp and no notifications except for texts and calls enabled) so if I want to browse the internet I have to go through multiple steps to get there or simply use my computer.

and I have to say- I highly recommend this. people who refuse to get smartphones and insist on using flip/brick phones really are onto something

#if my main way of communicating with friends and family wasn't whatsapp I'd probably switch to a flip or brick phone tbh #and just take a smartphone for ''I got lost and need maps'' or ''if I don't look this up right now I'll die'' type of emergencies with me #like turned off in my bag or something #rover rambles

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doumekiss · 19 days

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If you are here to contact me on behalf of someone else read this first

So I really hoped I wouldn’t have to make this post, but it recently came to my knowledge that a person I blocked many years ago started to send messages to a person she saw me interacting with here on my dungeon meshi prompt post asking them to send me a message on their behalf. I don’t have any wishes to receive messages from this person, so please don’t. Below I will explain a little bit of my history with her:

So the person who contacted them won’t leave me alone, I’ve blocked them on everything and they won’t take no for an answer, I’ve told people in my life that if one day somebody kills me to look her up as a possible suspect because of how much she creeps me out, this is not the first time she saw me interacting with someone online and tried to get close to them.

I am going to explain a little bit about the context so you guys know where I am coming from so I met Ana on a Brazilian fanfiction website called Nyah Fanfiction back in 2015, and she was one of my most frequent readers and I had a lot of affection for her at that time. So in 2018 when some friends and I decided to create a WhatsApp group to send prompts and do challenges and just talk about fandom things, I decided to invite her to join. She accepted and became one of the most active members.

And then after a few months things started to get weird, anything I said she would get offended and hurt, and she would take everything personally, like she saw me liking an episode of Black Mirror that she didn't like as a personal attack on her and it was hurting me to constantly be treated as a villain to the point that sometimes I dreaded to send messages to the group I created, but I continued to ignore it until this incident at the end of 2019:

We did a mini ficathon on the group and Ana wrote a oneshot based on a prompt that I sent and she send me a message letting me know, usually when someone does something based on a prompt I try to read it the same day, but that week I was tired, at the time I was working and studying for some important exams (and she knew this because I mentioned it in the group), and then on the evening of the same day she sent a message asking if I had read it yet, and a bunch of other messages in the following days. So I went to tell her that this in the fandom was considered bad behavior and it's not something she should do to me or anyone else (she was 18/19 years old at the time and I know that often this kind of thing isn't very clear to young people in fandom). And then she got mad and said that I was bad and that she liked my writing but that I was a terrible person and a lot of other things.

I reflected for a few days and I went to tell her that I thought it was better for us to stop interacting, that we were clearly incompatible as friends and that because of our different personalities we were hurting each other. She was pissed but accepted it when it became clear that I wasn't going to change my mind.

A little before that I joined a different brazilian fanfic website called spirit fanfiction because most people had abandoned nyah at that point due to some really shitty management decisions that made the site almost unusable. Around the time that I chose to end our friendship I unfollowed her there, but I didn't block her. A week later after the drama, she started to favorite the works I posted here, and comment super nice things on some of them (I had a lot of nyah content to pass from one site to another), and send prompts in the first prompt journals I published (back them the site had this feature of creating blog posts similar to livejournal, and there is also a timeline feature that is similar to a mini twitter, this will be relevant soon), and I was a little uncomfortable because I asked her to stop interacting with me, but I thought it would be ridiculous to make drama about it and I just let it go.

A few months go by in november of 2020, and then I receive a message from someone who created an account just to let me know that Ana was talking bad things about me all the time on the timeline and sending messages to everyone who followed me to let them know that I was terrible person. At the time I barely interacted with the timeline, it wasn't a feature of the site that I read or paid attention to, I generally talked to people through comments on the fics. So I went to read Ana's timeline, and it was creepy as fuck, almost every day for months there was some subtweet about me, sometimes many times on the same day, things like that I copied her stories (which btw I didn't even read), that I had an evil soul, that she felt stalked by me, that I was rotten inside, that I should be run over by a bus. And she got so angry when people said something positive about me or interacted with my stories, there was a comment that I found particularly strange about me stealing readers (like how you steal someone's readers? It's not like a person chooses just one writer to read, I don't know, maybe she thought that every time someone chose to read something of mine they were rejecting reading something of her idk).

And after that, some things started to make sense, like my number of followers kept going up and down in those months, a sometimes people stopped following me just a few hours after they started for no reason at all. And some people continued to follow me but stopped interacting with my stories, at the time I was really active in the A Song of Ice and Fire fandom, and as soon as I joined the site I started interacting a little with other writers in the fandom because it was one of the ones I had more content to post, but then little by little they stopped talking to me, people who at first treated me very well, at the time I received the message I think there was two or three people still talking to me on that community. So I blocked her, and a few hours later she went to talk to Vanessa, a really good friend of mine she met through the group, that she didn't understand why I had done that. After receiving the message I talked about it with the person who sent me and also with a couple of personal friends on private and Vanessa was one of them, and she was someone who had known me for over ten years at that point, so she told me about Ana’s message and asked me if she could tell Ana that I knew what she was doing, and I said yes. And now I became super aware of the timeline and then I saw that Ana was making herself the victim there saying that she was going to leave the site because she made powerful enemies (seriously, the image she has of me is so distorted, she thinks I'm super popular but like when if you look at my fics you see that this really isn't the case, I have a few that ended up popular but you know I’ve been writing since 2009 I wrote over a thousand stories eventually something would end up popular lmao, but if you see in general most of the things I post only has like 2 or 4 favorites, I only have a large number of followers because I write for a lot of different fandoms and in general I tend to follow people who follow me back on there.

My friends suggested that I write a journal explaining to my readers that there was someone spreading rumors about me on the site, and I considered it but I thought it was better not to, because everyone would know it was her and I knew that Ana had problems with depression and anxiety, my friends pointed out that I had it too and that Ana had no problem doing these things to me, but in the end she was a teenager and I was a 27-year-old woman so I put it aside and got on with my life.

In the following years she created a few new accounts just to interact with me, and as soon as I realize it’s her I block her again. A couple of people from the asoiaf fandom that stopped talking with me started again, and told me that they used to believe a lot of bad things about me because of Ana, and then she started being creepy with them too and making a lot of drama so they blocked her and thought maybe they were wrong about me, but I’m sure there are probably a lot of people who still believe in the things she said, and sometimes I still get a little paranoid sometimes that everyone secretly hates me and that the best thing would be to delete my account and only talk to some of the few people I trust, which obviously sucks because before fandom used to be just something fun that brought me happiness and I was much more open forming friendships in the past.

I called her out public on spirit I believe it was the end of 2021 or beginning of 2022 after it came to my knowledge that she started contacting people she saw me interacting with, I couldn’t talk with anyone on the timeline or get friendly in the comments that she went to follow them and started to message them, this time not to talk shit about me but casual at first, just to befriend them, and them after a while she mentioned we had a friend in common and how sorry she is about everything. And I made it very very clear that I have no wish to have any contact with her again ever in my life, and I thought it was over until I received that message today.

In the message she said she was sorry for everything and that she did because she was a minor and had depression and that she wants to be friends again, but like I joined fandom when I was a minor with depression and anxiety and many many other issues and I never did this sort of shit to anyone, and she is no longer a minor and she is still trying to contact me after I made it clear that I don’t want to talk to her again, she has no respect for the concept of consent when it comes to human interactions, she thinks she deserves to have access to me no matter how profoundly uncomfortable she makes me. Everytime I’m reminded of her I have to relieve this really shitty chapter of my life.

Her current username is iammyownsaviour, I’m not telling you guys to block her or don’t be friends with her, but please don’t send me anything from her, I don’t wanna hear it.

#personal #fandom

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aerialworms-art · 4 months

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I've been wanting to do hourly comic day for ages, finally remembered (at 00:01 on 2nd feb), and here we are! I had a lot of fun with this!

Featuring (in order of appearance) my child Fluffy, Narcissus the brachycephalic cat, Prince the sentient mop dog, and Cassie the-not-so-fluffy-but-also-black cat. And @salty-lich-queen makes an appearance from 19:00-23:00!

I've put a transcript of all the text under the cut cause I was focused on sticking to the hourly thing and forgot about nice lettering 😅

Transcript:

[Page 1]

02/02/2024 (definitely hourly comics day)

00:00-01:00

Me: Ooh, look, hourly comics! There's a lot of these. When is it again?

Search bar: When is hourly comics day? Search results: 1st Feb hourly comics day Me: Aw, fuck.

Me, thinking: No-one will mind if I do it today instead, right? Arrow pointing at me: Going to get snack Arrow pointing at tinsel: Tinsel from 4 Xmas ago Arrow pointing at toy snakes: Snakes from Halloween

Caption: [Int. - Bedroom]

Sweet packet: SWEETS

Me: Oh! Fluffy, thinking: For me? Caption: A surprise kitty!

01:00-02:00

Me, thinking: WTF is wrong with this guy? Caption: Watching Dungeon Meshi for the first time!

Arrow pointing at me: Brushing teeth

Fluffy, thinking: I CRAVE WOTER

02:00-??:??

Caption: Thinkin' bout those old men <3

11:00-12:00

Me: UUUUUUUUGH

12:00-13:00

Me: come... closer...

Me: Time to get up! Fluffy, thinking: Bye!

Me: Actually, I'll just draw some comics first Fluffy, thinking: Oh?

Caption: A few minutes later... Me: Thank you for keeping my foot warm Fluffy, thinking: It's free real estate

Arrow pointing at my dad: My dad My dad: I keep losing books... My dad: Like this Ian Banks one - Me: Oh! The one that's been in the loo for a week?

My dad: AHA! Caption: (yes, it was that one)

13:00-14:00

Caption: Watching more Dungeon Meshi Me/my tea: sluuurp

Me, singing: VOULEZ VOUS! AHA! TAKE ME NOW OR LEAVE Caption: shower ABBA time!

Caption: Back in the bedroom... Me, singing: -DANCE WITH YOU HONEY! IF YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY! DOES YA MOTHER KNOW THAT

Fluffy, thinking: I'm out.

14:00-15:00

Title: The Exciting Adventures of Artie and Fluffy: Leaving the house!

Me: C'mon then! Fluffy: Mow! Mrow! Cat count: 1

Neighbour: Oh! Hello! Cat count: 1

[Page 2]

Me and the neighbour: Small talk Cat count: 1 Dog count: 1

Me: Here, I'll hold her, you go past Fluffy, thinking: DIE Arrow pointing at dog: Oblivious Cat count: 1 Dog count: 1

Me: Hi buddy! Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Narcissus, thinking: Friend or Foe? Arrow pointing at Fluffy: Oblivious Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Caption: We carried on... Me: Oh! Hello! Cat count: 2 Dog count: 1

Cat count: 2 Dog count: 2!

Fancy lettering: PRINCE! Cat count: 2 Dog count: AWWW

Cat count: 2 Dog count: 2

Cat count: ? Dog count: 2

Cat count: 3! Dog count: 2

Me: Uh oh

Fluffy, thinking: BOO!

Cassie, landing on Prince's head: DONK!

Me: Dude, you ok? Prince, thinking: Look! I can catch my tail!

14:30-15:30

Fluffy, thinking: That's not how I look. Caption: Whoops, spent an hour on this! Cat counter: 3 Dog counter: 3 (one went past while drawing)

15:30-16:00

Me, thinking: Alas, we must part, my love! Fluffy, thinking: What was that noise? Cat counter: 3 Dog counter: 3

Arrow pointing at Prince: Prince again! coming back from school Cat count: 3 Dog count: 7

Me: At last! Arrow pointing at people in the bushes: Three shady people in the bushes (I didn't ask)

Library: Library

16:00-17:00

PLOTTING A GRAPHIC NOVEL

17:00-19:00

Whatsapp contact name: Mum Me, texting: (15:35) Swim after work? Me: (16:54) Missed call Me: (16:59) Heading to pool now come join me! Mum: On my way! (17:04) Cat count: 3 Dog count: 10+??

Police car: POLICE ILOP Me: oo er...

Arrow pointing at a cop: Was saying something about a break-in :S Arrow pointing at cop holding a bag: Stolen goods? Drugs? Arrow pointing at fence behind them: My old infant school

[Page 3]

17:00-19:00 cont.

Scribbled out drawing: IGNORE THIS

Me, thinking: I'm no ordinary girl~

(action) Mum: WAVE! (action) Me: WAVE!

19:00-23:00

My laptop screen: UPERNATURAL

23:00-00:00

Arrow pointing at my chair: Ergonomic chair for back pain Me, thinking: What am I doing?

Me, thinking: Ah, yes. Tumblr logo: t Tumblr post: ~~~~~~DC COMICS Me, thinking: Thinkin' bout those old men again <3

Me: Time for bed!

Fluffy, thinking: Time for FOOD.

#for anyone confused the old men are of course #mcspirk #hourly comics #hourly comic day #comics #hourlies #my art #cats #dogs #artists on tumblr

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redfurrycat · 6 months

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🤠💌💬🐓Chat fics & Epistolary Fic Recs🐓💬💌🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Beaufoy14, Comin2U, Cryinginthebronco, Ginnydear, ReformedTsundere, SunMonTue, Teacupivy, Terraces, Xihe1874, Yourstrulytay.

thirst trap fic by ginnydear {E}

boy, you blowin' up my phone

“His name is Hangman and I think he sent me a thirst trap at 3 a.m.”

make me come home faster

a companion piece to “boy, you blowin' up my phone” with a little bit of bradley's point of view on... stuff.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U {T}

Harvard: why Whatsapp and not just a basic text message? Hangman: because one of us has an android and ruins the ability to message with just internet. Coyote: Screw you too hangman. * In which 12 daggers, the best of the best of naval aviators, are all a bunch of kids and thrown in a group chat.

Hang the Hangman with Love by xihe1874 {T}

Dagger Squad 🗡️✈️ [Hangman removes Rooster from the group chat] [Hangman changes the name of group chat to “Let’s find out the lucky and unfortunate bastard ”] Hangman: Soooo Hangman: guys Phoenix: ? Hangman: and gals Fanboy: what you up to this time Hangman Omaha: and why you kicked Rooster out Coyote: He wants to find out who Maverick is married to The classic "Let's find out who is Maverick's husband" bet, plus much much more shenanigans. Hangman is feeling good, Rooster is amused, and Maverick is trying his best to drop hints. Others only have eyes for money.

are you thinking about me too? ('cause i can't stop thinking about you) by cryinginthebronco {T}

Jake doesn’t have a chance to make things right with Bradley before they part ways. But with the mission still fresh in his memory, he decides to take the risk. Or, Jake and Bradley’s love story told through letters. Or, the love letters fic. Love Letters Fic on 'real' notepapers by Redfurrycat

signed, sealed, delivered (i'm yours) by yourstrulytay {T}

Jake’s shirtless but he still has his dog-tags on, and the way he’s leaning on the counter or table or whatever makes the muscles of his arms and shoulders bunch up. Bradley’s mouth goes a little dry at the miles (and miles and miles) of bare skin that are being presented to him and he bites his tongue to prevent any sound from escaping. It had been precisely this that had made him panic and hang up before, because what the fuck? aka, the social media au that no one asked for

in the grand scheme by terraces {M}

During their first stint at TOPGUN, Rooster gets a concussion. Hangman writes him a letter; Rooster writes one back. It all goes downhill from there.

Slow But Steep by Beaufoy14 {M}

Binman: 1743: Javy I need to ask you a question and I need you not to be weird Coyote Ugly: 1744: Before you do, ask yourself two things: 1: does this question really need to be asked? 2: Is there anything better I could be doing on a Tuesday evening than pestering my best friend? Featuring: The List, Phoenix's useful suggestions, Rooster lusting after cowboy hats (and the men who wear them), and Bob's Catholic guilt.

Things We Leave Behind by ReformedTsundere {T}

In a box, there lives two letters that the writers never want read.

BabyGoose84 by teacupivy {M}

As he goes through his inbox with the usual Select All > Delete locked and loaded, one preview sticks out to him. "Hey! You’re wrong about the F-14, by the way. My godfather…"

Online and Anonymous TGM by SunMonTue {E}

Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship. A predominantly epistolary fic set in a world where papers were pulled, events of TG:M will take place and DADT exists until it is repealed at the end of 2011.

#Chat fics & Epistolary Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

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The North Star - Part Ten: Safe Space - Terry Bruno x Reader

Welcome to mine and @the-hinky-panda The Bronx universe featuring our favs Terry Bruno & Mike Duarte.

This story takes place several years after 'Blood Out'. Terry still lives in the Bronx and works in Manhatten SVU.

Following on from @the-hinky-panda story 'The Dog' Mike has retired from the NYPD on medical grounds due to seizures causes by the attack. He has a therapy dog called Bono and lives with @the-hinky-panda character Meredith.

Tagging: @mysoulisasunflower @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life

Part One: Moments

Meredith doesn’t realise they have an overnight guest until she trapses into the kitchen in her pyjamas to put on a pot of coffee and realises that only one of the dogs has appeared for breakfast. Shasta sits beside her food bowl, tongue lolling out her mouth, but Bono is nowhere to be seen.

Mike’s upstairs in the shower, so she knows he’s not with him. She calls him again, but there’s still no sign of him. It’s only when she pops her head through the living room door that she understands why Bono hasn’t trailed Shasta into the kitchen.

You’re curled upon the couch asleep, still clad in a dress from the party last night, the NYPD windbreaker drawn up over your shoulders. You’ve tossed the couch blanket over your legs and your shoes are neatly aligned on the floor. Bono’s lying on the floor at the base of the couch, he raises his head as Meredith enters.

“Oh,” she says. “You’re looking after our guest.”

Bono chuffs at her before clambering to his feet and thrusting his head underneath her palm.

“Yes, I’ll keep an eye on her.” She promised Bono who licked her hand before trotting off towards the kitchen.

You were out for the count; you didn’t even register Meredith’s presence as she sat on the edge of the couch and studied you intensely. You hadn’t done this in a long time, not since before Terry. It used to be the cases, when there was one that hit too close to home, or if it was particularly brutal. She’d come in and find you on the couch, with a glass of wine or a tub of mint choc chip ice cream. This was a safe space for you, it always had been, and Meredith hoped it always would be.

She hears Mike’s footsteps in the hall, gentle padding before he pokes his head through the open doorway and spotted the two of you on the couch. His dark brow furrows into a frown as he takes in the scene, you sleeping, the expression of concern on Meredith’s features.

“She ok?” he queries, his voice low as he leaned against the door frame.

Meredith shakes her head.

“I don’t know.” She whispers, tugging the blanket up higher so it covers more of your body. “She’s never this out of it. Something must have happened.”

Mike withdraws the phone from his back pocket.

“I’ll call Bruno, give him a heads up.” Mike says quietly before gesturing at your unconscious form. He takes in the detail, smeared make up, high heels, the dress from the party. “It doesn’t look like she made it home last night.”

“I’m going to wake her up, see if I can get her to go upstairs to the guest room.” Meredith tells him. “Maybe find out what this is about.”

-------------------------------------------------

Terry was in the final ten minutes of his shift when he received the call from Duarte. To say that he had been going out of his mind was an understatement. You weren’t picking up, the last message he’d received from you had been over twelve hours ago that read. “Gonna be outta touch for a couple of hours. Text you when I’m free x”

That had been before Russo had dropped by with the broken necklace. He had to admit he was worried; you didn’t usually drop off the grid for so long. He’d tried ringing your extension and gotten no answer, your cell went straight to voicemail, and you hadn’t looked at WhatsApp since he’d received that message.

“I think we have something that belongs to you. One Homicide Sergeant passed out on the couch, stealing my dog’s attention.”

That was how it was with Duarte, no pleasantries, just facts. Terry had never appreciated it more than in this moment.

“Thank fuck.” Terry muttered, tapping his fingertip against his temple to diffuse the agonising tension that had built up inside of his head since Russo had made his appearance. “I was about to start ringing around the hospitals and the morgue.”

“That bad huh?”

“Russo paid me a visit tonight.” Terry informed him, his thumb tracing over the engraving of the letters on the compass. “He said some things…”

Duarte cleared his throat.

“What things?”

“He had the compass.” Terry forced the words out, there was an ache in his chest as he stared down at the necklace. “It looks like the chain’s been ripped straight off her neck.”

“You’d better come over.” Duarte said, his voice lowering an octave. “There’s some things I need to tell you.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Terry looks like hell.

Meredith’s never seen him like this before. He’s usually so easy going, so relaxed. It’s one of the reasons she thinks he’s a good fit for you. He never takes himself too seriously, your visits are filled with laughter and smiles. The two of you are so in love, she’d be ribbing you about it if she wasn’t so happy for you.

Right now, though, there’s a rigidity in his shoulders as he leans against the counter. His fingertips rub at the spot between his eyes as Meredith stares down at the broken compass and Mike slowly places his palms flat upon the table like he’s trying to prevent himself from destroying something.

“The three of you pulled a heist.” Terry repeats again before he turns his attention to the kitchen table.

“That has nothing to do with this.” Meredith said gesturing at the compass.

“She was still wearing it before I left.” Mike told them. “I remember it catching the light as I closed the curtain. There could only have been ten minutes between then and the raid.”

Terry rubbed his hand over the line of his jaw.

“A lot can happen in ten minutes.”

They were all thinking the same thing, but no one wanted to say it. Mike’s hands curled into fists, the scars on the back of his hands stretching taut across his flesh.

“I was right there.”

Bono whined, nudging Mike’s thigh with his nose and Mike sighed, his hand coming to rest on the dog’s head, scratching behind his ears.

“I know.” He told Bono. “I’m trying but it’s hard.”

Bono cocked his head to one side.

“If you’d met this asshole, your blood pressure would be going through the roof too.”

Bono huffed once.

Mike rolled his eyes before exhaling deeply and unclenching his fists.

“If it went that far, she would have told us right?” Mike asked Meredith as her fingers grasped the chain of the compass bringing it closer to her face so she could inspect the damaged links. “I mean she would have come to one of us.”

“It’s not that simple…” Terry said shaking his head. “Victims of assault, they have a hard time coming forward as it is, the fact she’s a female cop, in a position of power attacked by another cop…”

He trailed off considering the implications.

“I didn’t see anything that indicated that.” Meredith tried to reassure him. “When I sent her upstairs to bed, her dress wasn’t torn, there wasn’t any bruising that I could see but she still had on that windbreaker.”

“Look.” Terry said, pushing off the counter. “Until she tells us what happened we’re in the dark. There’s nothing we can do but wait until she’s ready.”

“You look like shit.” Mike informed the other man. “Why don’t you head upstairs, get some rest?”

Terry looked at him and Mike looked back, something passed between the two of them, an unspoken understanding. Terry tilted his head towards Meredith.

“Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.” She gestured towards the stairs; the compass still clasped between her hands.

She waited until Terry closed the kitchen door behind him before turning her attention to Mike.

“She needs to feel safe right?” Mike said, leaning on his elbows, before jerking his head towards the closed door. “He makes her feel safe.”

“You’re a wily old dog.” Meredith smiled before raising to her feet and kissing Mike on the cheek. His arm wrapped around her waist, drawing her into his lap. She laughed, a beautiful breathless sound that made his heartbeat even faster in his chest.

“You wanna help me find a jeweller?” He asked her, his head dipping low so that their lips were barely centimetres apart. “Get the compass fixed?”

Her fingertips brushed over the nape of his neck; a soothing, comforting sensation that made him sigh contently as she whispered.

“You read my mind.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

You’re still asleep when Terry enters the guest bedroom, at least he thinks you are. You’re bundled up in the sheets, your back to the door so he can’t tell. He sits on the edge of the bed, his palms running over his weary features as his thoughts tumble over each other in his head. He’s exhausted, the panic from earlier has left him feeling redundant. He doesn’t know how to help you; he doesn’t know what you need.

He undoes the laces on his boots, toeing them off quietly before he lies beside you on the bed and stares at the ceiling. This thing with Russo is out of control, it just keeps spiralling. It makes him feel sick because he knows that it’s only going to get worse, that Russo is relentless in his pursuit of you.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sensation of you shifting beside him, inching closer to his form. He rolls onto his side and gathers you up in his arms, his chest coming to rest against your back as he breathes you in. The ghost of your perfume floods his nostrils as he cradles you close. He can feel the tension in your body, hears that choked sound emitting from your chest as your fingers entwine with his, holding him in place.

The first sob kills him, it vibrates through his entire body, stabbing him right through the heart. He clasps you tighter, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as tears roll down your cheeks.

You’re safe…

I’m here…

I won’t let anything happen to you…

In the shelter of his arms, you tell him exactly what Russo did and Terry knows without a doubt he’s going to kill him.

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#detective terry bruno #terry bruno #terry bruno x reader #terry bruno x you #terry bruno fic

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rangpurcity · 1 year

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If you do video calling on WhatsApp, a very useful feature is coming for you, see photo

According to the report of WABetaInfo, the new feature allows users to easily skip to a certain date inside the chat. It has been claimed in the report that this feature was on the development stage since a few years ago, and recently it has come to the fore again. #video #calling #WhatsApp #feature #coming #photo

View On WordPress

#calling #coming #feature #photo #PIP mode for video calling #tech news in hindi #video #WhatsApp #whatsapp pip mode #whatsapp PIP mode for video calling

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detroit-grand-prix · 8 months

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thistle and weeds - susie wolff x oc

iii. your strife strikes at you in your sleep

Summary: Maree's solution to her current dilemma isn't practical or wise, and she can't get away with it forever, but it's all she's got until it comes to a head during the Barcelona F1 academy round.

Tags/warnings: almost one-night stands, alcohol use

Author’s note: This one didn't come quite as easily to me as chapters 1 and 2 did, but, it is a bit longer and more in-depth as a consolation! I felt like I could have maybe limited most of this to a summary, but I didn't really want to cut Maree's character development off at the knees like that, so the bulk of this chapter is strictly about Maree. I hope you like it anyway!

By the time the Barcelona round arrived in mid-May, Susie was a regular feature in Maree’s dreams, and Maree had decided that the only way to deal with it was to start avoiding talking to Susie as much as possible.

Out of sight, out of mind, Maree thought. It was a reasonable line of logic, but she hadn’t expected the act of avoiding Susie to cause Maree to think about her even more than she did before.

Getting through the Valencia race weekend without running into Susie was easy enough, as Susie wasn’t there. She had traveled to Miami, in the United States, for the Miami Grand Prix weekend. She was slated to speak at an F1-sponsored business summit where she would be announcing the partnership of F1 Academy and Hello Sunshine, and the media production company that Reese Witherspoon had founded. Maree was proud of the fact that she had a significant hand in facilitating the deal, and that they would be making a docuseries about the first F1 Academy season to capitalize on some of the “Drive to Survive” buzz.

Even aside from missing the Valencia round, Susie had a fairly demanding travel schedule and didn’t work out of the London office much of the time. She worked mostly from her home in Monaco, or on the road when she went to F1 races with Toto, but she was in regular contact with Maree via email and WhatsApp, but their conversations had started becoming more social, sometimes about things that weren’t strictly related to F1 Academy business.

For instance, while she was in Miami, Susie sent Maree a picture of the view of the beach from the balcony of her and Toto’s room at the Four Seasons, right on the Gulf of Mexico. She also sent a picture she’d taken of herself standing on the balcony of her suite, showing off the blue-and-white striped button down she was wearing. Maree limited her response to something about how the weather looked lovely. The pictures she’d sent Maree were very different from the photos she’d posted on Instagram, one of which was a photo of herself reflected in the glass sliding door of her suite. Maree did her best to keep her responses to Susie’s more social messages simple, and did her best to avoid scrolling back through their WhatsApp chat to look at the pictures Susie sent her pictures too much in hopes of not focusing on the details, like the way the Miami sunlight made her hair look like actual spun gold, or the way the sea breeze was gently ruffling it, or the way that she could see the skin just above Susie’s bra line because she’d left the topmost buttons of her shirt undone. She definitely tried to avoid imagining herself walking hand-in-hand with Susie down the long stretch of beach, enjoying the glow of the sunset and the roar of the tides as they kissed.

On the days that Susie was in the office, Maree hunkered down behind the locked door of her own office. She declined Susie’s usual lunch invitations, preferring to say that she already had lunch plans or that she had to run an errand. She spoke to Susie in meetings, but dashed back into her office as soon as they ended. She tried to artificially block off her schedule with check-ins with various colleagues, but the plan fell apart when her colleagues reasonably never had any updates for her.

By the time the Barcelona round started, Maree hardly had the nerve to even look Susie directly in the eye any more, and had resorted to very ungracefully turning around and walking the other way whenever she saw her approaching, loudly announcing that there was something she’d forgotten about in the other direction. She resolutely tried to ignore the confusion writ plainly on Susie’s face and tried to tell herself that there wasn’t also a touch of sadness or confusion with it, too.

The hammer came down on Saturday, just after the medal ceremony for the third and final round. Susie was taking photos with the girls that had made the weekend’s final podium. Maree was on her way back to the pit lane, chatting with one of the engineers for PREMA racing, Camilla, who had come to watch her driver, Marta García accept her third place trophy, when she heard someone call her name from behind her.

She turned around to see Delphine half-jogging toward her from the direction of the podium.

“Susie was looking for you earlier,” Delphine said as she caught up. “I don’t know if you talked to her already, but she just said she wanted to check in on a few things before she left.”

Maree swallowed against the lump that formed in her throat. She supposed she couldn’t reasonably evade her boss forever, but she was hoping in vain that she could make it a bit longer.

“Oh, thanks!” Maree said, trying to feign gratitude at the heads-up. “I’ll wait until she’s done.” She nodded a farewell to Camilla and walked back in the direction of the podium, trying to ignore the sudden onset of the desire to vomit.

Susie caught Maree’s eye as she finished up taking photos with the drivers and moved to descend the stairs.

“Hey,” Susie said. She didn’t sound upset, or like she was about to reprimand Maree for her absenteeism during the weekend.

“Delphine said you were looking for me?” Maree asked, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

“Oh, yes. I’ll be in the office on Tuesday, I was just hoping you and I could check in. You’ve been a difficult woman to keep track of lately,” Susie said, giving Maree a pat on the shoulder. She leaned in a bit closer, and Maree swore she could feel the air around her getting thinner. “I just wanted to make sure everything is okay. Let’s say right at nine. If you have any other meetings scheduled then, go ahead and move them.”

Her voice was as kind and even as ever, but Maree could read very clearly what Susie was telling her between the lines, or at least what she was imagining. “Something is going on with you, and I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me. You’re going to tell me why.”

It was a miserable weekend, and Maree spent all of it, including her flight from Barcelona to London, ruminating on what she would say, and for the first time, why she was having these dreams in the first place.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had professional relationships with other women previously, but Susie was different. Maree had noticed that gravitational pull she had with the people around her, sure, but there was something else.

Somewhere in the air over France, she allowed herself to finally admit it: more than likely, she really was gay.

Maree had long wrestled with her sexuality. Even in secondary school, actually, she suspected that something was different. While most girls her age had boyfriends, she had no interest in dating at all. The first time she did kiss a boy, one of her classmates named Greg that she convinced herself she fancied, felt like she was a toddler at a Christmas party being forced to give an elderly relative a kiss against her will - more like something to be endured than something enjoyable.

Rowan threw a wrench in the works, giving her the thrill of an honest-to-god crush on a man for the first time, making her throw every conclusion she’d come to about herself in doubt. She even experienced the sort of intense, white-hot jealousy that they write pop songs about when Rowan briefly had a fling with another girl at the end of their first year at King’s, but it ended quickly.

After he and the other girl called things off, Rowan came to visit her in Glasgow at a summer music course for children where she was working as a trumpet lesson tutor. She remembered the thrill of sneaking him into her room in the dorm, and the way she felt when he kissed her goodbye in the car park before he left to head back to London, like she was finally experiencing what she had been missing all along.

Eventually, though, the shine wore off for Maree. Their relationship was completely devoid of any intimacy at all by the end of their marriage, and any physical contact with Rowan gave her that feeling once again of being a toddler receiving unwanted affection from a relative. She braced herself any time they kissed, and couldn’t help but notice how unpleasant it was, like the romantic equivalent of a limp handshake. Maree found herself being jealous of her lesbian friends, wondering what it would be like to date women. She was thrilled when one of her closest friends from uni, who had been out as long as Maree had known her, started dating the woman she would eventually marry, but felt a pang of jealousy when she saw how effortless their affection with one another was. She wanted that for herself, and had trouble picturing a man - Rowan or not - treating her with such tenderness.

There were other little moments in Maree’s life that made more sense in this new framing, like the time a woman with a stocky build and a boyish haircut from Maree’s Greek Literature class, sat down with her at the dining hall in Bush House, eager to discuss “the literary history of our people” after they’d listened to their professor’s lecture about Sappho.

“Our people?” Maree asked, confused. She wasn’t English, the other woman wasn’t Scottish, and she wasn’t sure what the poetry of Sappho had to do with the history of the British Isles as a whole.

“You know, lesbians. You’re lesbian, right?”

Maree remembered panicking and denying it without a second thought, and she didn’t remember ever talking to that woman again.

The other moment that bore reconsideration came just before her and Rowan decided to go forward with the legal separation. They had a lot of serious discussions about their relationship in the months leading up to it, but a particular question Rowan asked stuck in Maree’s mind.

“If we had never gotten together and you were single right now, would you ever start a relationship with someone that, well, looks like me?”

Maree assured him that yes, she still found him attractive, as she still had a vested interest in avoiding divorce at the time, that interest being that the prospect of having to up-end her life was terrifying. As she reflected on it two years post-divorce, she knew she would have answered differently.

As Maree got ready for bed on Monday night, hours away from her meeting with Susie, she comforted herself with the thought that her dreams were just years of denial boiling off under all of the pressure. It was just chickens coming home to roost.

She felt eerily calm the next morning as she walked into Susie’s office and shut the door behind her. It had helped that she couldn’t remember what she dreamed about the night before, but she was nervous as she sat down and saw the expression on Susie’s face. She looked rather cross as Maree sat down in the chair in front of her desk.

“I just wanted to chat about something.” Susie said, folding her hands together on the surface of her desk. She was looking directly into Maree’s eyes, which Maree found a bit unnerving. “We have an issue that we need to discuss if we’re going to continue to work together successfully. I am trying not to assume negative intent here, but you are giving me the impression that you no longer wish to work on this team, and I was just trying to get some insight on what I can do to improve the situation.”

Maree blanched. “N-no, that’s not it at all. You’re a great boss, and I love working on this project with you.” She felt the serenity she felt when she sat down dissipating, leaving anxiety in its place.

“Okay. I’m glad to hear that, but I’m just… confused. I thought you and I were getting on quite well together. As I said, I’m not one to assume the worst, but it seems like you’re going out of your way to avoid me.”

“It’s not that, I -”

“Did I say or do something to upset you?” Susie went on, an edge in her voice that made Maree feel like she was being scolded. “If it’s something you’re more comfortable discussing with HR, feel free to do so, but I’d hate to think that I’ve done something to make you upset.”

The worry and guilt on Susie’s face twisted something in the pit of Maree’s stomach.

“No, it’s nothing you’ve done, I just -”

Maree paused in thought. She obviously couldn’t tell Susie the truth. She couldn’t tell her boss that she had inspired Maree to spiral into a crisis of questioning a large segment of her sense of self. She couldn’t tell her boss - her married, heterosexual boss - that she was the opposite in the romantic movies that Maree’s mind was forcing her to watch every time she went to sleep, and that those movies definitely could not be played on television until after 10pm. There was no way. She would sooner go lay down in traffic.

Still, Maree couldn’t say that everything was fine when Susie obviously had noticed that things were very much not.

She could lie, but what would she even say? As she thought about it, her mind flashed to something she’d read in a spy novel she liked, where the main character was reflecting on his past and how he had used parts of it to construct a convincing cover identity. Half-truths make the best lies.

“It’s not you, I promise. It’s something I’ve been trying to deal with outside of work. I’m just going through something sort of…” Maree sat back in her chair and shifted uncomfortably. Now, it felt like she was talking to her therapist.

“You know how people go through midlife crises?”

Susie nodded, and Maree continued.

“It’s something like that. It’s something that’s been on my mind a lot, and I’m sorry if it’s made me seem distant or distracted. I guess I hadn’t realized that it was having a noticeable effect on my work. I’m sorry about that.”

Susie’s expression turned from curious to sympathetic.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I was just a bit concerned. You’ve been doing a fine job still. It’s just that our team is so small it’s easy to tell if something is amiss with someone. You certainly don’t have to get into the details of it if you don’t want to. If you do, I’m happy to listen, and do anything I can to help, but you certainly don’t have to. Whatever you tell me is in complete confidence, of course.”

“I -” Maree stuttered, biting her lip for a moment. She certainly wouldn’t have ever talked to any of her bosses in the Premier League about this, or even James, her last boss, as kind as he was. But, she felt like she could trust Susie with this. She couldn’t not tell her at this point; the look of pure earnestness and care that she was giving Maree from across the expanse of her desk almost unlocked a desire to tell her almost anything. Giving up a half-truth was her only defense against telling Susie the whole truth.

She was at the edge of a precipice, like she was staring down a cliff into the roil of the ocean against the rocks.

“Fuck it.” Maree thought. “Maybe I’ll feel better if I say something out loud.”

“This is going to sound immature, like the sort of thing most people have figured out by the time they leave university at the latest, but I never thought about it until after the divorce.”

Maree took a deep breath.

“I guess it started when I got divorced, but I’ve been questioning a lot of things about myself lately, including my sexuality, and I… I think I’m a lesbian.”

Maree watched as Susie raised her eyebrows momentarily, and dread curled around her heart. For a moment, she thought she had misjudged both the situation and Susie’s character horribly, until Susie’s expression softened again nearly immediately, and she gave Maree a gentle smile. Maree couldn’t help but notice the way Susie’s entire posture seemed to relax, as she crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in her chair a bit.

“Well, that is a rather significant development,” she said. “I can see why you’ve been stressed out. I, erm, have known people, you know, friends of mine, that have gone through that process. I know it’s hard, especially because they’ve talked about not knowing who will be supportive and who won’t be. But, I will say that I will be here for you if you ever need to discuss anything. And, of course, it won’t leave this room until you want it to.”

Maree felt her entire body relax like every muscle was being tensed and that she let go of a breath that she wasn’t even aware that she was holding.

“I… appreciate that, thank you,” Maree murmured. She took a moment to glance around. This was the first time Maree had been in Susie’s office since it had been redecorated and set up as her permanent workspace. The entire space, including the furniture, was very minimalist.. She had the room done mostly in shades of cream, but had a few carefully selected objets d’art in a matching teal blue that reminded Maree of the shopping bags from Fortnum and Mason, an incredibly upscale department store in London. She and her flatmate from university once put on their nicest dresses to go to the tea salon for high tea, just for a laugh, but Maree secretly had a wonderful time, and didn’t really want the day to end. Maree held onto the elegant paper shopping bag and the miniature tea tins that came in it for years, until she moved in with Rowan.

As Maree spoke, she couldn’t bear to meet Susie’s gaze again. The sincerity on Susie’s face was almost overwhelming, so she focused her attention on something sitting on Susie’s desk; one of the only things on the surface other than Susie’s laptop, a small cup that had the remnants of Susie’s usual morning espresso, and a lamp with a glassy teal base. The prism was likely just a paperweight, some sort of six-sided glass prism in a shape Maree couldn’t name, but she caught herself wondering briefly if the light was ever just right in the office for it to project rainbows onto the walls.

“And…” Susie chuckled, making Maree look back up at her. “If you want some of my unsolicited advice, don’t worry about timelines with these sorts of things, or when you think you should have done something. I know it’s probably your project manager brain, but your sense of self and feeling comfortable in your own skin not a deliverable.”

She ignored Maree’s incredulous expression and continued on.

“Growing up, and into adulthood, I never wanted to become a wife and mother. I met Toto, fell in love, and got married, but I didn’t really want children, because I couldn’t focus on my racing career and putting myself in danger with someone at home depending on me, and Toto had two children of his own already that were almost teenagers when we started dating. But, once I retired from motorsport, I realized that I wanted to have a family with Toto. I was 35 when I had Jack, and most women my age that I knew already had kids in primary school. But, the good thing is, you have an opportunity for some self-discovery, you know? Change is good, even if it’s not always comfortable, but it will give you what you need to grow. “

It was with Susie’s advice in mind that Maree found herself at a lesbian bar in Soho, appropriately named “She”, a few days later, at the suggestion of her friend Evelyn. Evelyn, or Evie, as Maree called her, was her friend that she had been jealous of when she started dating a woman, desiring the effortless affection that Evie and her wife showed each other.

Maree reasoned that being conservative with taking risks and insisting on sticking to the familiar was what had gotten her into a job and marriage that made her miserable, so there was no reason not to go all in. So she called Evie and asked if she knew of any gay bars frequented by women, and after dealing with Evie’s excited line of questioning over the phone, Maree found herself waiting to meet Evie and Ada, her wife, at the start of the bar’s weekly Wednesday karaoke night.

The bar was not large, but it was loud, likely owing to the fact that it was built out of what looked like the remnants of an old RAF Nissen hut, given the ceiling and walls were made of a single piece of cylindrical corrugated metal.

Maree sat at one of the uncomfortable metal yellow cafe tables that were arranged around the place, nervously glancing between her phone, the door to the bar, and the girl on the small stage singing above an instrumental track of Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl'' to an audience that didn’t look particularly interested. She was desperately wondering where Evie and Ada were, and nothing remained of her Moscow Mule other than some half-melted ice pooled at the bottom of its copper mug, a damp napkin, and the spent peel of the lime garnish.

“Come on, Evie…” she murmured to herself, staring at the WhatsApp message window on her phone, desperately waiting for the checkmark in the corner of her last message to turn blue.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Maree heard someone say. She whipped her head around to see a petite woman sidle up to her table and sit down in the other chair. “You new in town? Just visiting?” They practically had to yell over the noise of the small crowd and the karaoke music.

The woman was very smartly dressed, wearing a pinstripe business suit, but the fact that the shirt - well, more like a bralette - she was wearing underneath was made of black lace and left her midriff exposed made Maree think she definitely had not come straight from work like Maree had.

“Uh… n-no, I live here… well, not in Soho, but, you know… London.”

The woman smiled. “So you’re just new to this bar, then? Good to know. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“M-Maree.”

“That’s a pretty name. I’m Tara. Can I buy you another drink - Moscow Mule, looks like?”

Tara barely waited for her to nod before getting up and walking toward the bar. Maree thought that having a man come on so strongly would be an unnerving experience that would have probably had her sprinting for the exit door, but something about this - the novelty of it, maybe, had Maree wanting to stay and see what might happen.

It didn’t take more than a minute before Tara returned. She sat down and moved her chair a bit closer to Maree’s, putting a copper mug down with a new drink for Maree. Maree glanced at Tara’s drink - she couldn’t tell what it was, but it was in a rocks glass, garnished with a cherry and a slice of lemon.

“So, Maree, what brings you here? I’m guessing it’s your first time?”

Maree nodded, setting down the copper mug after taking a generous sip.

“Yes. A friend of mine from uni and her wife were supposed to meet me but, I don’t think they’re coming.”

“That’s a shame,” Tara said, with a bit of a smirk. She shot a very intense gaze directly into Maree’s eyes, a look that made her feel a blush starting at her chest and rising to her cheeks. “Hopefully you find my company acceptable.”

Tara was gorgeous, Maree thought. She was trying to remain circumspect and examine whether or not it was honest-to-god attraction, but being one and a half Moscow Mules in already was making it a bit of a task. She was petite, with a delicate frame. Her eyes were a shade of green that likely looked more intense and vibrant than usual, thanks to the flawless eyeliner and eyeshadow she was wearing. She had a delicate nose with a shiny stud piercing, and was wearing silver stud earrings that seemed to match it. She had a choppy blonde haircut that grazed the bottom of her chin. Her hair had dark roots that indicated that her hair color likely wasn’t natural, but it still reminded her of someone. She’d just finished her second Mule, but still had the wherewithal to not allow herself to complete that thought.

Maree loosened up as the two of them talked, doing their best to talk over the goings-on of their surroundings. She found out that Tara was some sort of musician, not enough of a following to be particularly well-known yet, but, according to her, “big enough to pay her bills after one of her songs got some traction on TikTok”. She had the sort of crisp, polished public school accent that made Maree think that she likely didn’t have many of her own bills to worry about in the first place, but she shoved that thought away. It wasn’t as if she often used her real accent, after all.

Maree preferred to keep details of her life spare, only telling Tara that she was in programme management for a sports management company, and not which particular sports management company. Tara did not press for details, even when she returned with another round of drinks.

By the end of Maree’s third Mule, Tara… Maree thought that was her name, at least, as it was getting hard to remember - had gotten quite touchy, stroking the exposed skin on Maree’s arms and shoulders occasionally, and Maree couldn’t find it in herself to mind the attention one bit. At one point, Tara had reached out to tuck a lock of Maree’s dark hair behind her ear, and Maree couldn’t help but involuntarily giggle, before wondering the last time she’d made a noise even remotely similar. She felt a pleasant full-body tingle, her limbs becoming increasingly fluid and pliable, her nerves and apprehension at the beginning of the night a distant memory She wasn’t drunk, not quite, but pleasantly buzzed enough to know that she likely would’ve found this situation horribly embarrassing if she were still sober.

The fatal blow to Maree’s will to resist… what was her name again? Clara, maybe? Clara’s charms, though, came when the woman delicately grasped one of Maree’s hands, holding it gently in place for a moment. The fourth Moscow Mule, along with the shot of Fireball they’d done, certainly wasn’t hurting either.

“You have nice hands, you know.”

For reasons she wasn’t aware of, Maree felt her entire body blush, while trying to think of something to say in response.

“I, uh… thank you? I think?”

She didn’t think there was anything exceptional about them. She preferred to keep her nails short; a holdover from taking piano lessons, and thought that most colors of lacquer would just make her fingers look short and stubby. She preferred neutral or nude shades when she wore nail polish. Her nails were currently a light, almost-invisible pink.

Clara laughed, but didn’t deign to explain further before abruptly changing the subject.

“Come on,” she said, standing up, practically dragging Maree with her. “There’s an open spot on the roster, let’s go do a song.”

Maree did not object, even as they scrolled through the selection on the console. She let Sara pick the song, one that Maree remembered getting heavy radio play not long after she’d graduated from uni. It was one of those top 40 radio pop-driven dance tunes that Maree couldn’t think of the name of or which artist made it, but she somehow knew all of the words to.

“I crashed my car into the bridge, I watched, I let it burn, I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs, I crashed my car into the bridge”, they yelled in unison into the singular karaoke microphone that… uh, was it Clara, or Sara? It was definitely Sara, Maree thought, was holding. Thankfully, the crowd was a bit more lively than when earlier on in the night, and were yelling along and dancing along with the bass-boosted karaoke instrumental track booming over the club’s speakers. It did a lot to make Maree feel

“I don’t care! I love it!”

The intensity seemed to ramp up as the song went on, and by the time the song was over, Sara… or was it like, Sierra? was practically in Maree’s arms, not an inch between them as she clung to her shoulders. The expression on her face was one of delight, her eyes were huge, sweat forming on her forehead. Maree could feel it too, her breath coming in sudden sharp pants, her heartbeat thundering against her ribcage.

“Let’s go take a little break,” Mara said, her breathing just as quick. Somehow, Maree knew exactly what she meant.

They stumbled into the ladies’ room, which was thankfully empty, giggling as they practically dove into an open stall. Maree could barely throw the bolt on the door before Mara… or maybe it was something like Teri? Maree was really having a hard time remembering, but she didn’t think it really mattered at this point, focusing more on the feeling of whoever-she-was pressing her against the stall door, grasping at her hips to hold her in place.

“Wait,” Maree said, pushing Clara’s shoulders back a bit, putting the slightest bit of distance between their mouths. “I have to tell you something… I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?” Teri said, still panting.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Maree said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I’m still not sure… well, you know, if I like it.”

Sierra laughed a little, but it sounded light and friendly, not the sort of teasing, cruel laugh that Maree was half-expecting.

“That’s okay,” she said, whispering too. “Just follow my lead.”

Sara brought her hands - which were wonderfully warm and soft, Maree thought - to the sides of Maree’s face. She’d adjusted her pace from something fevered and frenzied to something gentler, probing Maree’s mouth with her tongue as her thumbs stroked gently against her cheeks. Maree caught the taste of whiskey sour, she thought, as she closed her eyes and let her lips slide open, just like she did in her dream, when Susie…

Remembering her dreams about Susie made her eyes snap open, catching sight of the blonde of Sara’s hair. She was unable to resist combing her fingers through it, trying to imagine that it was Susie’s. Maree felt a pang of momentary guilt, but between the bass thumping against the walls of the bathroom stall and their shared frantic breathing, she let it go and closed her eyes and allowed herself the fantasy that it was Susie kissing her. She wasn’t exactly in a position to tell herself not to.

The adrenaline fizzed and sparked deliciously under Maree’s skin as she imagined that it was who was kissing her so passionately. Each of them let hands each start to wander, and she grasped at Maree’s ass as Maree let her thumbs travel over the exposed skin on Tara’s abdomen, inching ever upward to the lacy bralette she was wearing.

“You’re doing so well for your first time,” Mara whispered, pulling her lips away from Maree’s for a moment. Imagination was a powerful thing, and it caused Maree to keen as she could’ve sworn that what’s-her-name even started sounding like Susie, her voice having taken on the same warm, almost-maternal affect that Susie used with her. “I wouldn’t have ever guessed if you hadn't told me. I imagine that answers your question.”

Maree giggled. “I guess it does.”

After a few minutes, Maree started feeling more adventurous, moving away from Teri’s mouth and kissing along the delicate skin of her neck, and let her thumbs venture under the hem of her bralette. Maree grazed the underside of Mara’s breasts with her thumb, and she giggled, rewarding Maree by shoving her thigh between the junction of Maree’s legs. Maree canted her hips a little, grinding lightly into her knee as her excitement started reaching a delirious fever pitch. She was wondering how far they would go until the exterior door to the ladies’ room burst open, and a group of what sounded like four other women, all of them drunk and enormously loud, spilled in. Both Maree and… shit, who is she again? jumped, startled, and stumbled out of the stall together to a round of boisterous, supportive peanut-gallery commentary - it was incredibly obvious what they were doing in there, and according to the blonde girl, they weren’t the first ones to do so, nor would they be the last.

As the girl with the name Maree couldn’t remember settled her bar tab, Maree perched on the barstool next to her, and felt like she was in a different world. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the adolescent thrill of making it to second base with someone even at her age, but everything seemed softer and warmer, the colors of the tinted spotlights and the pulse of the music all blending into one mass of pleasant sensation. She barely paid attention as the blonde woman slipped her the bar receipt with her phone number and her Instagram handle on it.

They sat at the bar and talked for a few minutes as Maree knocked back a water or two and bid farewell to the blonde woman, telling her that she had to be up for work the next morning. They kissed in the stairwell of the bar as Maree left, whispering a promise to message her later on.

By the time she had regained her senses enough to walk down to the Lebanese joint down the street for some a shawarma and some chips to chase the Moscow Mules with and ordered a Bolt back home, the bar receipt was crumpled and forgotten about at the bottom of her purse with the receipt for the falafel shop and the other detritus that tended to gather there.

Maree woke up early the next morning - well before she had to get ready for work, thankfully - feeling nauseous and greasy, and like her head was stuffed with cotton balls but somehow weighed twenty kilos by itself. She had managed to remove her pants before falling into bed, but not her bra or her blouse, both of which had left angry red indents in her skin. Her mouth tasted like the sour remnants of the garlic sauce that was on her shawarma, and she had a message from Evie explaining that she had fallen asleep and that Ada didn’t want to wake her, and that she was sorry and that she had hoped Maree had a good time regardless.

She popped a paracetamol and downed a glass of water before getting in the shower. As she stood under the hot spray, hoping that it would be enough to revive her before she had to leave for work, she tried to piece together the previous night. She remembered getting to the bar and waiting on Evie and Ada to show up, and she remembered that song she did karaoke to, but most of the details were like dust to the wind. All that she could recall with clarity and certainty was the girl with the blonde hair pressing her against the bathroom stall, the way her hands felt as they cradled her face, and the way her lips felt against hers, and the way she closed her eyes and let herself believe that it as Susie kissing her.

It was really too bad she couldn’t remember the girl’s name.

#susie wolff x oc #f1 fic #my fanfic #my fanfic writing #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 academy #series: thistle and weeds

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usabinances59 · 1 month

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mariacallous · 8 months

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Before he was kidnapped, Hersh Goldberg-Polin was a big reader. He would absorb himself in different types of books at different times, according to his father, Jonathan Polin. For a while, he was obsessed with biographies of presidents. There was a period he read exclusively about the Holocaust. Lately, he’s been reading books that, Polin says, reflect his son’s curiosity about the world. Right now, the tome by his bed is The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama. For 21 days, it has sat there untouched, as his family waits for Goldberg-Polin to come home.

Polin’s nightmare started on October 7, a date now etched into the Israeli psyche, when Hamas gunmen forced their way through the Gaza border wall, killing entire families, destroying border towns, and kidnapping men, women, and children. Polin was at his local synagogue when the air raid sirens went off. By the time he got home around 9 am, his wife Rachel Goldberg showed him two WhatsApp messages she’d received from their 23-year-old son an hour earlier. “We had back-to-back messages sent to us by Hersh at 8:11 am,” Polin told WIRED. “The first one said, ‘I love you.’ The second one said, ‘I'm sorry.’” They’d seen Goldberg-Polin, a dual Israeli-American citizen, the night before. The family thought he was going camping with a friend. But they soon realized he’d spent the night at the Supernova trance music festival, now known as the place where 260 people were murdered. Many others were taken back to Gaza as hostages.

Polin has spent the past three weeks sifting through photos and videos on social media, trying to piece together what happened to his son after he sent those early morning messages. The day of the attack was well documented, with both victims and perpetrators posting footage online. But most of it was filmed inside Israel. Fewer families have seen videos showing their loved ones inside Gaza. For many, the trail ends at the border, leaving families to look for other signs, such as phone location signals, to try to confirm that their loved ones are among the 224 people now believed to be held hostage.

Polin says the Israeli authorities confirmed the last signal they detected from his son’s phone was on the Gaza side of the border. “When you're living the awful life that we're living today, you have to look for hope and optimism anywhere you can get it,” he says. “So having a phone identification come in from Gaza is something that gave us a small dose of—I don’t know what the word is, not strength, not optimism, it’s hope—hope that he is with his phone and that he is alive.”

Phone pings can help triangulate a device, a method that approximates location based on the signal a phone sends to nearby cell phone towers when the device makes phone calls, sends messages, or accesses the internet. A person doesn’t have to be actively using their phone for it to send these signals. As long as the device is still on, apps working in the background can also create a “ping” that indicates location according to Scott Greene, a digital forensics expert. In terms of finding where a device is, triangulation is “pretty darn reliable,” he says.

When Israeli officials do not provide families with triangulation data from cell phone towers, families have been trying to track down phones themselves, using the find-my-phone features offered by iPhones and Androids. If family members know, or can guess, a loved one’s password, they can use the feature to ask the device to report back its location. “As long as the phone is on and has a signal, then the GPS will be received by the cell phone device,” he adds. “You can say ‘Where's my device?’ And it will tell you.”

But phone pings are not conclusive proof of life. Phones can be separated from their owners, or they can, rarely, provide faulty data. WIRED has spoken to one person, who declined to comment for this article, whose relative’s phone was traced by the authorities to Gaza, only for their body to later be identified inside Israel.

Others have not found the answers they’re looking for. Inbar Haiman, 27, was also at the Supernova music festival when Hamas attacked. She is, her boyfriend Noam Alon says, “a true artist … a magical girl … everything I ever wanted.” Like Polin, Alon has spent the past two weeks trying to piece together what happened to her.

So far, he knows that the last text message she sent was at 7:30 am, warning a friend to find somewhere to hide. Two other festivalgoers, who were with Haiman when they were trying to outrun gunmen chasing them, told him what happened next. “She froze, she was so panicked, she started to cry, and she couldn't run anymore,” Alon recounts. “In that moment, a motorbike with two terrorists came, and they took her.” Friends later sent Alon a video they found on Telegram. From that footage, he could identify Haiman being dragged across the field. There is blood on her face. She appears unconscious. But he recognized her by the distinctive leggings she was wearing that day.

The gap in information is what happened next and where Haiman is now. Alon believes she is in Gaza. But for confirmation, like many others, he turned to her mobile for clues. “We tried to locate her phone,” he says, adding that they used her Android’s Find My Device feature. “Perhaps it is in Gaza. But the last signal was in the area we know she was kidnapped from.”

Where families have struggled to trace their loved ones’ phones, many of Israel’s cyber experts have volunteered to help. NSO Group and Candiru, two surveillance companies blacklisted by the US, have been asked to upgrade their spyware capabilities to help find hostages, according to a report by Bloomberg.

“We were also trying, when we didn't think it's damaging, to assist families to track down phones,” says Omri Segev Moyal, CEO of Israeli cybersecurity firm Profero, adding that this is an activity he and his colleagues do in a personal capacity, not as representatives of the company. He declines to comment on whether they have tracked anyone’s phone to Gaza. Instead, he says, he has helped relatives locate their loved ones’ bodies or find people who were still in hiding. “It's not something that only we are doing,” he says. “I bet everyone with knowledge of mobile devices is trying to help.”

Volunteer cyber experts are not forthcoming about how exactly they are accessing phones’ locations, in case they give details away to the people holding the hostages. Karine Nahon, a professor of information science at Israel’s Reichman University, started a civilian war room of cyber experts to try to locate missing people in the hours after the October 7 attack. The team—which started at 450 people and has now downsized to less than 50 as the number of unsolved cases has shrunk—used a series of algorithms to try to match missing people’s faces, voices, and clothing in the huge amounts of social media content posted to online platforms. “We also use location technologies, but unfortunately I can't speak about it more,” Nahon says.

Families of Israel’s missing aren’t interested in the exact techniques that decipher where their loved ones are or how they are brought home. “I want to see every hostage brought back to their families alive,” says Goldberg-Polin’s father. “That's the goal. The means to get there is something I don't really weigh in on. That’s other people's jobs.”

Polin, at least, has now found further evidence that his son crossed the border. A video, shared with his parents on October 16 by CNN journalist Anderson Cooper, shows Goldberg-Polin being forced at gunpoint into a truck. He is missing his left hand and part of his arm. After speaking to eyewitnesses, Polin believes this was the result of a grenade blast.

“It's every parent's worst nightmare to see a video of their child bloodied, with a limb missing, being put onto a pickup truck of terrorists,” says Polin. But he is encouraged to see that, in the video, Goldberg-Polin is walking on his own. “He looks, given the circumstances, to be somewhat composed. And I'm encouraged that with his weak hand he pulled himself onto the truck. So those things—that composure and that sign of some strength—gave me a sense of strength myself, that he's got fortitude and strength and perseverance. And maybe he can fight his way through this.��

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