#this email is in use for another account Well i did know that in fact its tied to 5 other accounts thank you for asking

[trisloshr]

Oomf i think twitter wants y9u to verify your emails to get your accounts unsuspended maybe you can do it in account settings?

oomf it has been done my accounts are safe <3

#this email is in use for another account Well i did know that in fact its tied to 5 other accounts thank you for asking #idk if they hate me for putting dots in my emails DOESNT EVERYONE DO THAT THOUGH #but yes they were safely pulled from the throes of death #asks #what the fuck is my ask tag is it even plural LOL

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: One phone call was never going to be enough for Bradley. Another opportunity falls into his lap, and he emails you right away to see if you can make a little time for him. When he shares a bit more with you than he bargained for, he's pleasantly surprised once again by how open and authentic you are.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being vulnerable

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley was never usually one to get lost in a daydream. He was exceptionally good at focusing on flying when he was in the air. If he had a task to complete on the ground, he always got it done. But when he spent the rest of his day after talking on the phone with you in his bunk, he wasn't focused on much except the sound of your voice. Then he dug out the pictures you'd mailed to him so he could see your face as well. The combination of everything about you was almost too much, and he didn't know how he'd manage in person.

He still had weeks of his deployment left, and he'd never wanted to get home so badly in his life. That first date was already set. He was annoyed he couldn't give you a firm idea on when it could happen, but you didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, you told him you'd be ready whenever he got back. And that you'd take him any way you could get him. Well, as long as you still wanted him next month, you could have him.

With a smile on his face, Bradley reached for the stack of letters from your class and took the time to judge the drawing contest. All he really did was award each kid their own unique superlative. The purple jet that he thought was Violet's won the 'I Wish the Navy Liked Colors' award. Jayden's drawing of the jet with the dog named Vanessa for a pilot won the 'She Probably Flies Better Than I Do' award. And the one that looked like a dragon won the 'Fanciest Scales' award.

He wrote on the back of each picture, chuckling the whole time. Then he got to the one you drew, and he noticed something he'd missed when he first opened the newest box from your class. Next to his name written on the side of the F/A-18, you'd drawn a little heart. He was all smiles as he flipped it over and started writing.

Hey, Gorgeous,

This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.

Bradley

After he packaged everything up and dropped it off to be sent back to the states, he made his way to dinner. He ate his meatloaf alone once again, but he hadn't felt lonely in months. The adrenaline rush of the phone call was finally starting to wear off, but he felt warm all over. You'd be asleep now back in California, but maybe there was a chance you had in fact emailed him that selfie before you went to bed. And that is what once again lured him back to the lounge. You had a vise-like grip on every part of him, and he was itching to know exactly what you looked like tonight while he was talking to you.

Unsurprisingly, he had to wait a bit until there was a computer free that he could use. Sundays always seemed to be when the lounge was swamped, but he didn't mind. He just sat back and thought about the way you said his name. He could imagine you whispering it. He could even imagine you screaming it.

"Shit," he grunted, hopping up when it was finally his turn, and he logged into his email account to find that you wrote to him approximately fifteen minutes after the phone call ended. And when he opened your message, he leaned in a little closer to make sure nobody else around him could catch even a glimpse of the photos you attached.

His heart started beating in that same erratic way it had when he listened to you telling him you thought about kissing his scars. Not only had you emailed him a sweet looking selfie of you in bed wearing an oversized sweatshirt, you sent a second, decidedly spicier one, too. 

Bradley ran his hand over his mouth and mustache, trying not to groan as he quickly memorized every detail of that second photo. You'd removed that oversized sweatshirt and snuggled down under the soft looking sheet, and there was not a scrap of shirt fabric covering your arms or chest. Inch after glorious inch of the soft swell of your breasts was visible before the sheet forced him to imagine what the rest would look like. And he had a very vivid imagination.

When his hand dropped down to his side, he realized he was staring open mouthed at the photo. The little smirk you wore in it let him know you were absolutely intentional about this, and that was such a huge turn on for him. This is how you wanted him to see you. Fuck. He scrolled back up to the first photo where you were wearing your sweatshirt and a much more innocent smile, and he whispered, "Okay, Gorgeous. You've ruined me."

He realized as he scrolled all the way back up to your actual message that there were probably a lot of guys who got sent straight up pornography from their wives or girlfriends when they were deployed, but this had to be the hottest looking thing that ever graced his inbox. And you were still completely covered up. He shook his head to clear his mind as he started reading.

Bradley,

Thank you for the phone call. I'm sitting here kind of regrouping while the butterflies are still going crazy in my belly. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is with you that sets them off, but hearing your voice for twenty minutes straight has turned me into a boneless heap on my bed. I'm almost afraid of what might happen to me if you touch me.

It's gone. I deleted my profile and the entire dating app. I'm no longer looking for single guys with jobs who are between 30 and 40 years old. I'm just looking for a 36-year old Naval aviator who wants to take me to the beach in Coronado to watch the sunset with Thai food and Prosecco.

I hope you come home soon. Do you have any idea how much longer you'll be gone? Why isn't the Navy taking into consideration the fact that you and I have a date to go on? I'd just really like to see your face in person as soon as possible.

I'm attaching two photos, probably against my better judgement. Maybe it's just my excuse to get you to call me Gorgeous again. I can't wait to see you.

Your favorite pen pal

He wanted to wait until he had some gym selfies to send, but he couldn't leave you hanging. Not when those two, flawless photos caught his eye again. So he started typing up a response, and soon he found that he wanted to talk to you on the phone again badly enough that he was going to go back to one of the admirals to see if there was any way he could.

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

You had such a hard time falling asleep on Saturday night after talking to Bradley. It was like your body had accepted the inevitable before your brain had. You were completely enchanted by him, and the call made it so much worse. Hearing him call you Gorgeous through your phone speaker was almost more than you could handle. You were turned on and too warm, even without your sweatshirt. You couldn't believe you sent him that photo. You couldn't believe you trusted him enough to keep it private.

He probably dated women in the past who sent him things that were way more explicit than a selfie where they were covered up, but you were still a teacher who wanted to keep her job. You loved your class, and you knew nobody else could handle your kids as well as you could. But you wanted to give Bradley what you could for now.

It was the description of the perfect date and the promise that he'd kiss you as soon as he saw you that kept playing in your mind. And you let it keep playing on loop, because he lived in Coronado. And that's how you finally dozed off. When you woke up on Sunday morning, you had a brand new email in response to your selfies.

Gorgeous,

I'm thrilled to hear the app is gone. All of the other single guys aged thirty to forty are probably at home crying right now, and I can't blame them. I'll just sit here with a smug look on my face.

That phone call was one of the best of my life. The way you say my name is somehow better than I imagined it would sound, and I'd been spending a lot of my free time thinking about it. Hearing your voice and seeing you in these photos is a privilege. That second one had me staring with my mouth hanging open for a few minutes. I think I just about memorized it, but I'm going to check one more time before I log off. Okay, maybe two more times. As much as I love it, I don't want to feel pressured to send me things like that. But dear god, Gorgeous, I mean it when I say you take that word to a whole new level.

You don't need an excuse to get me to call you Gorgeous. Hopefully by next month, you'll be hearing it so much in person that you'll be sick of it. And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when.

As soon as I have a better idea of when I'll be back in San Diego, that information will be in your inbox immediately.

I can't wait to see you,

Bradley

You couldn't wait that long. You would never make it. Your sheets were brushing your bare skin as you thought about him calling you Gorgeous so many times that you got sick of it, but you knew that would never happen. You were going to need another hobby or maybe five to help you pass the time, but for now, you decided to work on your lesson plans for the coming week.

Your kids would probably be happy to learn that you were planning on extending your aviation lessons to the end of the school year. Or at least until Bradley got back. What you wouldn't give to have him visit your classroom. Just the idea of him standing in front of the board, maybe in his flight suit, left you light headed. You already knew your kids would be absolutely delighted to meet him after writing back and forth so many times.

After you managed to distract yourself for a full day, you were just getting into bed when you heard your phone ping with a notification. "Oh god," you groaned in pleasure. When you opened the new email from Bradley, you were met with the promised gym selfies. One was of his reflection which was taken in a long mirror that seemed to cover most of a wall. You could see some other people working out in the background, but front and center was Bradley curling a massive looking dumbbell in snug shorts and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

You dropped down onto your bed and zoomed in on his biceps. "Dear Lord." Your heart was hammering in your chest now. Did he not know what he looked like? Did he not know that his body was absolutely flawless? The second photo was even better. The half-smirk, half-smile and the peek of pretty, white teeth. The slightly messy hair. The chocolatey brown eyes. The scars with the beads of sweat running down them. "Unbelievable."

And then you read the short message.

Two gym selfies, as promised. You asked for a nice closeup of my face, and that's as good as it gets. Talk soon, Gorgeous.

You were still looking at the photos when you fell asleep.

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

Bradley shouldn't have been surprised that another mission was in the works. He'd been so caught up in you, he almost expected smooth sailing and a direct path back to San Diego so he could get on with his personal life. But no such luck. After several days holed up in planning sessions, the only real happiness he found was in each new email from you.

There was another class photo in one. There was a selfie of you at a Thai restaurant in another. And there were always a lot of fun details about your day, too. But it was the bits where you let him know you were thinking about him that made him a little weaker for you with every passing day. His favorite was when you told him you donated all of your DVDs of movies with spiders in them. He also loved it when you told him that your students wanted to meet him.

If he could just get back, you and he would be watching all the spider-less movies together, and he'd be more than happy to visit your classroom. But, fuck, this deployment was dragging. He was tired, but he wasn't sleeping well. And there seemed to be cabbage rolls every evening in the cafeteria. When he finally made it out on deck a few days before he was supposed to fly the mission, he ended up talking to Marty.

"You need a hand with that?" Bradley asked the mechanic as he worked on taking apart an engine.

"Sure, Lieutenant," Marty replied, handing Bradley some very greasy bolts and a wrench. "Just hang onto those for me."

Two minutes of watching him work, and Bradley wished he'd brought his phone with him to record a video for your class. "The kids would love this," he muttered, and Marty chuckled.

"You still sending stuff to that elementary class back in San Diego? The pen pals?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "I think I've kind of adopted them. Or maybe they've adopted me? Either way, I've been writing to them this entire deployment. And... you know how you asked me if I was dating a teacher a few months ago?"

Marty looked at him and laughed. "Let me guess. You fell for their teacher?"

He nodded and sighed when he thought about you. "Yeah... it's just been a lot of emails and letters and one phone call, but now I can't wait to get back home."

"Damn," Marty grunted as he removed another bolt. "Some guys have all the luck." Bradley ended up helping him lift some heavy parts from a crate as Marty told him, "I have a ten minute FaceTime call scheduled for later this week if you want to use it to talk to your new girlfriend again."

Bradley was ready to jump at the chance to see your face and hear your voice at the same time, but instead he said, "I can't take that from you, but thanks, man."

Marty shrugged. "I'll just end up talking to my sister again. You can have it."

Bradley stared at him for a few seconds. "Yeah? You're sure?"

"All yours."

Bradley stayed long enough to get the details and help Marty unload everything else he needed to finish his project, and then he got cleaned up and went to the lounge to email you. If you were able to talk to him over FaceTime, it would be everything he needed to get through this last flight mission and end his deployment on a high note.

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

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said my drawing is the funniest one!"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw likes the rooster beak I put on my jet!"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said mine is the least realistic in a good way!"

You were trying not to laugh as you looked at each of the little messages Bradley wrote on the backs of the F/A-18 drawings. They were all somehow well thought out and personalized. It was as if he actually knew these kids. But you supposed that in a way, he did. You kept going back to your desk to look at the note on the back of your drawing.

Hey, Gorgeous,

This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.

Bradley

Seeing him was all you could think about now. You were almost completely convinced that your feelings would translate well from virtual to personal interaction. How could they not? He was as sweet and sincere over the phone as he was through his writing.

When you checked your phone after your kids were dismissed for the day, you tapped on a new email from Bradley before you started packing your bag to head home.

Gorgeous, any chance you have ten minutes you're willing to spend on a FaceTime call? Tomorrow night around 8:00 for you?

You squeaked in delight at the mere thought of it. His face and his voice and his words and his attention all at the same time? Ten minutes of it?

Yes! I'll be ready!

Now you had to wait. You also had to get your friends to bump up the Friday night dinner reservation to 5:00. And you needed to make sure you looked nicer than you did when you were usually lounging at home in your oversized sweatshirt. 

So when Friday evening rolled around, and you barely made it home from dinner by 8:00, you were a little frazzled. You wanted to take the time to fix your makeup, and you wanted to change into a cuter shirt that your friends would have definitely called you out on if they saw you wearing it to dinner, but there was no time. Your phone was already ringing at 8:01.

This time, the butterflies erupted as soon as you accepted the call and saw Bradley sitting there in his flight suit with a hesitant smile on his face. He didn't even have to say a word to make you feel like you were going to float up to the ceiling even as you tried to sit down on your bed.

"Bradley," you breathed softly, and his smile grew exponentially. 

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip as you took in all the details of his face on your tiny phone screen. His brown eyes were wide as he did the same to you, and you couldn't stop yourself before you said, "Hey, Handsome."

His cheeks immediately flushed with a pink tint, and he looked down at the table in front of him with a bashful smile. You wanted to climb through your phone to get to him, settle yourself down on his lap, and feel how rough his flight suit was against your hands. You wanted to tip his face up so he was looking at you again, and when he did that on his own, you almost screamed in delight at what he said next.

"Damn, Baby. You didn't need to get all dressed up just to talk to me. You look beautiful right now, but I'm also partial to your sweatshirt."

You looked down at yourself and then back at him with a little laugh. He was staring at you in awe as you said, "I always look like this."

"You always look like this? You always look this hot?" he asked, that little grin you liked so much dancing around his lips. "Seriously?"

"Well, I mean, I didn't do anything special. I wanted to, but I ran out of time, and I definitely didn't want to miss your call."

Your heart was thudding as he really scanned your face and let out a low whistle. "I guess I'll find out for myself soon enough. About two more weeks to go, and then I'll be home. I just got that information today."

"Two weeks!" you exclaimed, nearly dropping your phone. Images of beach sunsets and Bradley's big hand holding yours filled your mind. "That's better than I was hoping for!"

You watched him run his hand through his hair, almost like he was nervous now. "Same. So what do you say? Two Saturdays from now, as long as everything goes as planned, you want to go on that first date with me?"

"Yes, Bradley," you replied immediately. "If you want to spend your first day back on dry land with me, then that's absolutely what I want to do."

His voice was deep and raspy as he said, "Then it's a date." But his eyes still seemed uncertain, and you knew instinctively that there was more going on as he asked, "You think... maybe we could talk about date number two for a minute? I was thinking we would go out to a restaurant so I can prove to you that I clean up okay."

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you said, "I have no doubt in my mind that you'd look just as good in a tee shirt as you would in a tuxedo."

That made him laugh as he scratched along the stubble on his jaw. "Humor me, Gorgeous? We would end up going out on a second date, right?" he asked, and somehow you could tell that something else was on his mind. "Maybe we would even go on a third?"

"Would?" you asked softly. "Don't you mean will?"

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said, leaning in a little closer. "Yeah. We will."

You and he studied each other as you asked, "Is there something wrong?"

He leaned back in his seat, and your heart started beating a most uncomfortable rhythm. "Damn it," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly as he took a deep breath. "We only have a few minutes on here, and I'm fucking it up because I'm nervous." You noticed he was rubbing his palms along his thighs, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "I really like you. All I can think about is getting home and doing all the things I promised. I don't usually feel like I have anything special to look forward to in San Diego. Or at least I didn't before we started talking." He cleared his throat and added, "I'm flying a final mission here in a few hours. It's a sensitive one, and... I just wanted you to know that I'll be thinking about you until I have to put my head down and get to work."

"Oh," you gasped, suddenly more aware than ever that he had the kind of anxiety inducing, adrenaline spiking job you could only ever dream of. Your fourth grade classroom was tame by comparison. Your students were nothing compared to opposing fighter jets. His career was dangerous.

Tears filled your eyes as he groaned a little bit and whispered, "I'm sorry, Baby. I kind of killed the vibe."

"You didn't," you told him quickly, studying the concern written on his features. Then your voice got even softer as you asked, "How will I know you're okay?"

He cleared his throat and said, "Sometimes they close off communication as we get closer to port. Of course I'll email you if I can, otherwise I'll let you know when I'm back in San Diego." His brown eyes flicked to the side and then back to you. "I'm going to have to go in a minute here."

There were a lot of things you knew would have to be left unsaid for now, so you told him what you could. "I really like you, too," you promised him, and some of the worry melted away from his face. "And I'm thinking dinner at an Italian restaurant for our second date. That way you can get cleaned up nice, and I can wear a dress that I'll be stressing out about all night long. And you can tell me that I look gorgeous while my foot keeps intentionally bumping yours under the table." He was smiling now, so you decided to go for broke. "And you kind of promised me takeout on your couch with a spider-free movie. I was hoping you'd play a song on the piano for me. I was hoping to cover both of us with a blanket and kiss you senseless. How does that sound?" You were gripping your phone a little tighter, hoping you'd be able to hear his response before he said he had to go.

"That sounds perfect, Gorgeous," he said, looking a lot calmer now. "Let's do that."

"Please, be careful."

"I will."

And then he was gone.

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

Bradley needed to make it home, because he decidedly had a lot to do there. Nat was expecting not one, but two dinners out of him now. There were eighteen fourth graders he wanted to meet. And as he ended a FaceTime call with the woman of his dreams while she had tears in her eyes, he knew he wanted to go on those dates more than anything else. If he never got to meet you in person... well he couldn't even think about that right now. He was supposed to report to his jet on the main runway in an hour, but you kept popping up in every corner of his mind. You were more emotionally open with him over a ten minute call than Vanessa ever was.

"Bradshaw!" He turned to see a petty officer coming toward him with a box. "Last mail call."

"Thank you," he replied, already smiling as he recognized your handwriting. His nineteen pen pals were here to keep him company once again, and his heart swelled with something he didn't even want to try to identify at the moment. All he could do was drop the box off in his bunk and tell himself he'd open it when he got back after nightfall.

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

Vulnerable Bradley is nervous just thinking about what might happen. He's starting to feel like Gorgeous could be be the one waiting on the San Diego end of all of his deployments from now on, but he needs to get through the rest of this one first. Maybe they can meet in the next part? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #yours truly bradley bradshaw

[sepherinaspoppies]

after hours - modern! aemond targaryen x reader

summary: she receives a late night call from her needy boyfriend, aemond.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f and m masturbation, phone sex, use of sex toys for reader, and I think that's it?

wc: 2,387

masterlist

notes: this was supposed to be a very small drabble lmao. anyways this is kind of unedited. oops

She sits on her bed, a plate of yesterday’s reheated pepperoni pizza laid across her lap while the television played rerun episodes of Gilmore Girls when her phone rang unexpectedly.

At such late hours she decided to let her phone ring, for if she answered whoever it was calling on the other end would know she was awake and she did not want that. It was probably one of those scam calls that were going around tricking people to give out their credit card information for their own benefit.

Though, she wondered if they knew that she had only ten dollars currently sitting in her bank account after she had spent the last of her savings on pizza. 

She sighed happily once her ringtone slowly faltered down but it wasn’t long before it started ringing again and again. And on the fourth ring she sadly set down her pizza to the side before snatching off her phone from the power socket. 

Her eyes widen in horror as she views the bold letters of the caller ID. She immediately accepts the call, rushing to turn off the television to give her full attention to her caller. 

“Angel.” Aemond greeted in a low hum, sounds of metal clanking could be heard from the background. 

She appreciates that he doesn’t sound angry for her lack of response. In the past few months she had the pleasure of knowing Aemond, she had come to learn very quickly that he was not a very patient man. If Aemond wanted something, whether it’d be something materialistic or sexual, he wanted it now in any way possible. 

“Hey Aem, sorry I thought you’d be asleep.” She apologizes, setting a few pieces of loose hair behind her ear.  

In the other line, she hears Aemond acknowledge her by singing another low hum, something Aemond regularly did that frustrated her. At first she thought Aegon was just joking around when he first set them up on a blind date, that Aemond was a man of a few words and only humming out his responses. But as she got to know him more throughout their dating phase, she realized that Aegon was in fact not joking. It took her months to break him out of his shell. 

“So, how are things down south?” She asks, quickly changing the subject to that of his work status. 

Aemond worked in the field he always wanted to be in; as a high school history and philosophy teacher. Aemond loved his job even if they were students who made it tough for him to educate those who did take their studies seriously. He loved the challenge. He loved being up on his feet teaching the histories of how Westeros came to be or educating the famous ideologies of the greatest philosophers that made Aemond fall in love with the subject. 

You could say Aemond was a workaholic. There was no denying that. What some teachers considered the best part of teaching was the summer vacations, Aemond absolutely despised it. However that problem would soon resolve after she had called up her uncle Oberyn, who taught gender and sexuality studies at Sunspear University, if there were any positions available for Aemond’s area of degree during the summer. To her delight, her uncle informed her that the university was looking for someone who was fluent in High Valyrian to teach a beginner course. 

Aemond immediately emailed his resume in and within a few days after his students left for summer break Aemond got on a plane to Dorne and began to work in his new position in a new city. 

Which was about a month ago. 

“Hard,” Aemond breathes as he licks his lips. 

“Aw, my love—” She tried to comfort him before she was cut off. “Hot,” Aemond corrects himself, standing up from his own bed to retrieve his laptop. 

“Well Dorne is known to be quite hot. Especially during the summer.” She informs in a matter of fact tone as she toys with the thin strap of her nightgown. “Besides, I thought dragons prefer the heat.” 

A low chuckle came from the other end. She can practically imagine the corners of his lips curving up to a smirk. “We do prefer heat but we are not immune to it as you think. I even purchased three fans to keep myself cool. Though, they do not work for shit which leaves me, as of right now bare.” 

She paused, straightening up from the bed. “When you say bare—”

“I mean bare as when I came into this world” 

A long silence came afterward, and she could hear the beat of her own heart thumping against the screen of her phone. She looked at her Charlie Brown calendar hung above her nightstand. Once she confirmed that today was in fact the weekend, it became evident why Aemond was calling at such a late hour. 

Heat began to seep into her lower belly down between her thighs at what she could surmise would happen next. 

It had been some time since they were last intimate. Forty-two days to be exact; the day before his departure to Dorne.

Aemond and her spent the whole morning, afternoon and night tangled within each other going round after round in different positions and different rooms of their shared cottage saying their goodbyes until she passed out from the many orgasms Aemond gave her. The following morning Aemond threw himself into fits of giggles when she could no longer stand up from their bed to drive him to the airport, feeling sore and bruised from the intensity of the night before. 

“Angel? Have I lost you?” Aemond asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She replied with a shaky no before Aemond began to speak again. “Hmm then accept my facetime call.” Her eyes locked with her laptop which she did not realize it had been ringing and nervously pressed the green button. 

Through the low lighted room she could see the silhouette of Aemond. His laptop perched on top of his stomach, his bare and freckled chest full on display. She so desperately wished she was there to roam her hands all over him. And she stifled a moan when she noticed Aemond’s silver hair was pulled back into a braid just as how she liked it. 

“There you are my beautiful angel,” Aemond purrs, giving his hardened cock a good squeeze from the base. His eye roams over her clothed figure, taking in her sheer white nightgown that leaves nothing to his imagination. 

Heats spread to her cheeks, his compliments never tiring her. 

“You don’t know how much I miss you, angel. Your hands—” On cue her hand slowly waves itself down between her thighs, pushing her lacy panties to the side as her fingers come into contact with her arousal on the way to her clit. 

“Stroking my cock while your lovely mouth sucks me off.” Aemond imagines it all like it was yesterday and his cock pulsed so hard it ached. It wasn’t any better when he saw her chest rise and fall with wanton little pants escaping her lips. 

She was touching herself. Something Aemond warned her not to do in his absence. He wanted to reprimand her for such an act but instead Aemond let her continue as he wanted to watch her unfold and peak especially for what he had in mind. 

“Oh, Aemond, I miss you too.” She whines, throwing her head back into the pillows, struggling to keep her laptop perched ontop her knees. Waves of pleasure move throughout her body, his words going straight to her core. 

She hears Aemond groan. 

“Your tongue on my cunt and- and—” Her words stammer and she feels the tips of her ears flush with embarrassment for her next confession. “Go on, angel.” Aemond encourages as he gazes at her reddened state. He finds it endearing and if he was there right now, he would pull away her hand until she confessed. 

“Your nose.”  

“And what about my nose?” He hums using his thumb to circle the tip of cock. 

“I-I love your nose on my clit.” 

Aemond’s one good eye widened and felt the intense pressure in his lower stomach increase. It was no wonder why whenever he went down on her she screamed the loudest when his nose brushed against her sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Aemond continued watching her touch and lose herself in pleasure. Intensely watching as her fingers vigorously circled her clit with sweat above her brow. He moaned sweet nothings through his laptop and just as he sensed she was about to peak, Aemond stopped her. 

She did as she was told and she couldn’t help to let out a few tears of frustration.

“Get your buzzy out, angel.” Aemond instructed. Instantly her mood shifts into an excited and eager one. 

“Which one?” 

“Oh you know which one.” 

She definitely knows which one. Her hand reaches for the drawer of her nightstand where inside lay rows of different forms of vibrators as well as different sizes and shapes of dildos Aemond purchased within their relationship. Their favorite being a dual pink vibrator that was made to stimulate her g-spot along with her clit. It was also remote and app controlled with multiple levels of speed and vibrations that made her come in less than five minutes. Which was good since it took her a while to come. 

“Good. Now be a good girl and undress in front of me, angel” She eagerly nods at his words and sets her laptop in front of her. “Look at me while you bare yourself to me.” Her eyes snap up meeting his darkened violet eye that was full of passion and concentration as her fingers lift the hem of her nightgown. 

She sees him bite his lower lip once her breasts are revealed. Aemond nods for her to proceed to take off the next piece of clothing and she does so, tossing it somewhere across the room not caring where it lands. 

Having laid together multiple times, she swallows the need to cover herself and spreads her legs apart just enough for Aemond to gaze through the camera at how wet she was for him. Aemond inhales the desire to stroke his cock into completion. He wanted to see her fall apart first. 

“Now place the buzzy in your cunt, slowly.” 

She rubs the silicone against her slick gathering some of her juices before sliding the thicker part of the vibrator inside. She sighs in relief at the sensation, it wasn’t as big and delicious of a stretch like Aemond’s cock but it was just right to feel some satisfaction. 

She then bends the longest part of the silicone gently against her pulsating clit with needy whines and pants waiting for further instructions. 

Seven fucking Hells. Aemond curses to himself wishing nothing more than to book a flight back to King’s Landing and have her sit on his face licking away her juices. Aemond remembers that in a month that will happen soon. 

Aemond’s fingers swipe through the different kinds of vibrational settings through the blue hearted app and settle for one with the lowest speed to get her started. 

Once Aemond hears a series of surprised cries and gasps, he gives up on trying not to touch himself. He starts stroking his cock at a languid pace as he watches his lovely little angel struggle to keep her legs still and open through the camera. 

“You’re doing so well baby,” She hears Aemond praise. “Tell me does that feel good? Are you close? Answer me, sweet angel.” 

She fervently nods her head. 

“Use your words, angel.” 

“Y-yes.” She says, barely being able to control words out through the pleasure. “Yes, what?” Aemond taunts before he lets out a hiss when the fat head of cock starts to ache more. He knew he wasn’t going to last long as he hadn’t touched himself so intimately in forty-two days, wanting to also keep good on his promise. 

“Yes, Aemond, it feels so good. I need more please.” While vibrations felt so indescribably good it wasn’t sufficient to send her over the edge. She knew Aemond set the vibrator in level one. And in their lovemaking, Aemond usually set the speed at level five which was neither too fast nor too slow. Just right to see stars followed by another round. 

When Aemond set his laptop to the side, giving her a full view of his proud length standing straight against his stomach, she nearly lost it, clenching the silicone tightly inside her walls. Gods she really did miss him. All of him. 

She groans loudly when Aemond sets the speed she likes, making her eyes roll at the back of her head, pinching both of her nipples for some extra stimulation but what Aemond says makes her halt and glance at his disheveled state. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m coming!” He moans as she watches his hand stroke his cock vigorously while long ropes of his seed spurt all across his chest and hand. Series of whines and growls leave his lips all while his hips buck upwards at the intense pleasure that makes Aemond cry. Literally cry. 

She watches all in awe.  

Saying he looked beautiful was an understatement. No, Aemond looked so godly and ethereal and she understood now the reference that Targaryens were closer to gods than men. 

Once Aemond steadied himself, the words left her lips without thinking. 

“That was quick.” 

And before she had time to explain, the air in her lungs left quickly like her words as she felt the most intense and deep sensation between her legs. She let out incoherent noises to which she could not describe. Were they moans? Groans? Cries? She did not know. 

All she did know was the tightness in her lower belly finally snapped and her orgasm washes all over her like a tide. 

After a few minutes, she heard Aemond laugh through the screen. “You were saying?” He teases as he waves his phone around the camera. 

She feels too tired to reply. Her body automatically feels relaxed and stress-free. 

“Oh, angel, don’t get too comfortable. I’m not done with you yet. I’m still very hard.” 

Oh shit….

im gonna go hide under my bed now lol

general taglist: @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @smayhem @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @imsoshygirl @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost

empty is who I could not tag im sorry!

if you like to be on my general taglist click here

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #modern! Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond x you #aemond fanfiction

[corrodedbisexual]

The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

#tumblr #shadow ban #shadowban #tumblr support #reference

[moonstonerain]

I somewhat recovered from the devastating news of YoI Ice Ado cancellation, so to celebrate Yuri on Ice brings me joy day (which should be everyday) I'm writing down my headcanons.

The pets in the YoI universe have the general lifespan of their humans. Pets tend to die days before or after their owners died. Unless they have an accident, or a sickness (poor Vicchan). So essentially Makkachin is in fact immortal.

The YoI universe is kinder: there is no homophobia. I understand that sometimes exploring topics like these in fiction is important, but personally I think there is enough of that in the real world. So I want to believe in at least one universe where people are kinder. Viktor and Yuuri can get married anywhere in the world and it would be recognized. Nobody is bothered by the two being men.

Yuuri Katsuki is not a Viktor Nikiforov fan. He is THE Viktor Nikiforov fan. I'm talking fan accounts where he's protecting Viktor. The posters in his room are just the tip of the iceberg. He has hand fans, body pillows, limited edition bottle of water where Viktor did some promotion. One time he ordered a limited edition, signed poster from a "fan". (The person was thinking of ripping him of. And then he got an email. The only text read: his name, his address, his age, his social security number. Man was so scared he payed triple for ice show tickets, just to get the signed poster. Incidentally he also got invested in ice skating and found Yuuri Katsuki, Japan's ace. He's been a fan ever since.) After Viktor cut his long hair, Yuuri mourned for a few days and then layed waste on everyone on the internet who dared to complain about Viktor's decision.

All of Yuuri's fans, as well as all of Japan knows that Yuuri Katsuki is THE Viktor Nikiforov fan. Journalists that are usually ignored by Yuuri know that they only need to mention Viktor before Yuuri goes on a 30 minute tangent about his newest programs, his music, his outfits, that obscure program he did only once six years ago. If the journalist is brave, and willing to risk life and limb, they'll even add some sort of critiscism "Viktor's landing was a bit wobbly" Yuuri Avoider of Anything that Risks Conflict Katsuki: "First of all how dare you." 40 minutes later "I'm done! I'm done! ... And another thing!"

Yeah Yuri Plisetsky admires Viktor Nikiforov. He's ugh Viktor. But Yuri is a fan of one skater and one skater only and that is Yuuri Katsuki. I'm talking posters, hand fans, body pillows, limited edition sports drink Yuuri did some promotion for. He came to Hasetsu with one luggage, left with three filled to the brim with Katsuki merch. And a giant poster from the train station. When Viktor discovers Yuri's collection he is incredibly jealous.

Phicit, Yuuri, Leo, Guang-Hong Ji, Otabek, Emil, Michele, J.J., and Seung Gil have a group chat for gossip. While the group chat is used pretty frequently Seung Gil will only wildly appear once every blue moon, leave a devastating one liner and dissapear once again. Once Viktor goes to coach Yuuri the group has front rows to live updates: "omg Viktor just showed up buck naked at my parents' onsen" "ok so he asked if I want him to be my boyfriend. do you think this is code for something?" "He sure likes to be very touchy with me. very touchy. hmm silly europeans" "he just wants us to be close friends" the despair the others are feeling. after the live kiss, seung gil: "just friends huh. never lie to my face again bitch"

minami and yuri have beef. minami has a limited edition photo card that he brought with him to the juniors. yuri has another limited edition card that he also brought to juniros. they saw each others limited edition cards, argued which was superior, both incredibly jealous of the other. loathed each other since then.

yuuri was the first to give Viktor his blue roses crown. One time when Viktor was assigned to NHK Trophy Yuuri busted his entire allowance and some odd jobs to buy him the crown, to an exhorbitant price because roses are expensive, blue roses even more so, and a flower crown?! Yuuri was standing near the rink when Viktor saw him holding the crown. Viktor's heart melted, and he let Yuuri put the crown on him. ever since then Viktor was associated with blue roses. Years later a skating fan uncovered an old photo of yuuri putting the crown on viktor and posted it online. the skating world collectively lost their minds. at their wedding they each put a flower crown on top of each others heads.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #viktor nikiforov #victor nikiforov #yuri plisetsky #ice adolescence #yoi ice adolescence

[wesawbears]

Cross posting here as well on A03, but here is my @aftg-mixtape gift for @foxywrites! I hope you enjoy!

Song was "Someone to You" by Banners, go listen!

--

It's a Tuesday when Neil gets the letter.

By all accounts, it’s a totally unremarkable Tuesday. He comes in from his morning run, hoodie pulled over his hair as the rain pounds the pavement with the same cadence as his feet. Neil wasn't personally so precious about his hair, but he could hear Andrew's voice in his head, telling him he was as bad as a dog, shaking water out all over the apartment. 

He smirks to himself as he snatches the mail out of the box, trying to shield the paper from the elements and failing miserably. He closes the door with his foot as soon as he's inside, throwing his hood down to get the wet garment off as soon as possible.

“Don't-”

“Shake my hair.” Neil flashes a grin. “I know.”

Andrew throws him an unimpressed look from where he’s curled on the couch in his pajamas. “Hmm.”

“You're just mad because the rain woke you up.”

“What was in the mail?”

Neil snorts at Andrew's obvious deflection and shrugs, tearing the envelope open with his teeth. “Dunno.”

He scans over the page quickly, not used to getting a lot of mail. Most of his information is sent to him directly by his publicist, who had been warned by Wymack that Neil couldn't be trusted to check his email. She's one of the four people whose calls he knows he has to take when he sees their names come up on his phone. Everything else still takes at least two days for him to remember to respond to. 

To anyone else, it would be a form letter, a quick piece of mail destined for the recycle bin. But Neil just stares at it.

“What,” Andrew repeats, more a demand than a question. He's sat up, face neutral but the line of tension in his shoulders makes it clear that he's curious of what Neil will do next, ready to pull him back from the edge if need be.

“It's a letter to renew my license,” Neil says simply.

Presumably, Andrew does the same math Neil just did. “Five years since you became a real boy.”

“Five years,” Neil echoes, still staring down at the paper. It's been long enough that his hand doesn't freeze on the page when he signs his name, that answering to it feels more like an automatic response than playing a part, but something about seeing it on such a boring piece of paper makes his breath catch.

You are going to be Neil from now until death.

He was Neil, and no one could take that away from him. When he first signed the piece of paper affirming that the jumble of letters on the page made up who he was, it had felt surreal, another dream that was held out to him but just out of reach. But now, it was the name on his lease, the name that displayed every time he took to the field. The name on the envelopes sent via mail forwarding to Andrew’s apartment every off season. It was his.

“Your reaction is what DMV employees dream about,” Andrew deadpans. “You should ask about a sponsorship.”

“Five years ago I wasn’t sure if I would be alive long enough to need to worry about things like this,” Neil answers. “I didn’t know if Ichirou would find me worth keeping around.”

Andrew’s jaw clenches at the mention of Neil’s deal, but he evidently decides against jabbing that wound for the time being. “Neil,” he says simply, letting it curl through the air. It’s matter of fact, but Neil loves the way his name sounds when Andrew says it, like it’s a fact as simple as gravity or the sunrise.

“Andrew,” he says back. He places the letter on the kitchen table, electing to join Andrew where he lounges on the couch. As he sits, he lets their legs press together, taking as much warmth as he can from Andrew while he’s still sleep warm.

“You need to shower,” Andrew says, but makes no move to push Neil away.

“In a minute.” Right now, he’s content to look his fill. Morning Andrew is a rare joy that only Neil really gets to appreciate.

He drifts off on Andrew’s shoulder, and neither of them move until the afternoon.

–

It takes a few weeks for Neil’s new license to come, after the annoying visit to the DMV to get the photo taken and fill out paperwork. When it does, Neil stares at it for a little too long, cataloging all the little changes that have happened in the last five years. It’s still him, just with a few more freckles, a little less glow. All around him, people are terrified of aging, but Neil relishes it. Wrinkles, the random gray hair from time to time, they all add up to something Neil never thought could be his. In its place is a different fear, the fear that comes from being a dead man walking for so long that he never imagined what the future could look like. Its a feeling he knows Andrew shares, the terrifying thrill of building something from scratch what had only been black and haze before.

The exy offseason isn’t long as a mostly year-round sport, but the summers are filled with him and Andrew and the road, getting in the Mas, picking a direction and driving until the sun is high in the sky. Driving with Andrew is as close to an answer to his questions that Neil feels he can get. There’s something about it that lets him live outside of time, where all that’s real is the next ten miles.

It’s one of those days that they stop at a diner in Kentucky, and Neil watches Andrew as he scrapes the toppings off a burger and mashes it together into some kind of burger salad, pouring hot sauce over it to top it off. 

“What do you think about your name?”

The question rolls off of his tongue, and Andrew just tilts his head, staring at the jumble of ingredients like they’re a magic eight ball.

“It is my name.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

Andrew looks up at that. “I did not pick it out. It is a collection of syllables.”

“You know it’s more than that,” Neil says. “You told me once I didn’t look like my father’s name.”

“You didn’t,” Andrew says. “You look like Neil.”

It’s not that Neil wants him to change his name. Andrew suits him. But Neil knows the weight that comes with carrying the legacy of a family you didn’t choose, one that didn’t know you the way they were supposed to. For him to carry the last name of someone he barely knew- someone he was responsible for the death of- seemed like a lot of baggage to carry.

“Why did you keep your last name?”

With anyone else it would be a rude question, but Andrew has never balked at bluntness. He does, however, dodge questions he doesn’t want to answer, and he half expects another non-answer. Andrew doesn’t lie about things that matter, but Andrew’s definition of truth is absolute. He had to pick his questions carefully.

“Too much paperwork.”

“Andrew,” he says. Like with the keys, Neil knows Andrew well enough by now to know that he’s avoiding a truth that hurts. Neil won’t rub salt in the wound, but he knows how badly Andrew had wanted to be a Spear, and what it had cost for him to give that up. Names meant you were someone, but they could also mean you belonged to someone. And the idea of any part of Andrew belonging to some unnamed person who left his mother, or to Tilda even in the grave, burned Neil more than he dared to say.

“It is not as though there is anyone left but me and Aaron.” He moves his fork around, stirring intently. “I didn’t care about my name. Before I learned I had a brother.” 

“And now?” Neil asks.

Andrew shrugs. “You hate your old name because you hated your father. I feel nothing toward Tilda. She was nothing to me.”

Neil cups his own cheek in his hand as he thinks. “For so long, I thought a name was a collar. But- it doesn’t have to be. You can belong with someone without belonging to them.”

“This is sounding more and more like a marriage proposal,” Andrew says, though his voice sounds curious rather than biting.

Neil shakes his head. “A marriage is just another deal.”

Andrew hums. “And taking someone’s name is known for being a strings-free attachment.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to take my name. Just maybe that our names might go together.”

Andrew leans back. “You just renewed your license. Do you have some kind of paperwork fetish you never told me about?”

“I’m a math major, of course I do.”

Andrew huffs what Neil knows by now is a laugh. “There will always be more papers for you to sign your shiny name on then, junkie.”

Everyone called Andrew the possessive one, but Neil didn’t know what to call this itch below his skin, the desire not to keep Andrew for himself but for everyone to see that they fit and that Andrew was as permanent as Neil Josten. For Andrew to feel the same thing Neil did every time he put his name on paper.

To know that just as Neil had chosen himself, he had chosen Andrew too.

Andrew nudges his hand toward Neil’s, wrapping their pinkies together across the dingy table. “Names aren’t the only way to belong. I chose you and you chose me. Neither of us are going anywhere.”

It’s the certainty in his voice that calms Neil’s jackrabbit heart. There’s a part of him that leaps toward permanency, but Andrew is solid enough to remind him that he already has enough to hang on to. 

Neil smiles, and they enjoy the silence until the plates are cleared and the sun is Neil’s favorite shade of orange. As they leave, he lets a smirk take over his face. 

“How long do you think Kevin would yell at us for if we got tattoos?”

Andrew hums as he turns the ignition. “Might be interesting to find out.”

Three months later, Neil hangs up on Kevin at minute eleven. 

#aftg mixtape #aftg #all for the game #andreil #tfc

[joshsindigostreak]

O, Pioneers

Prologue

“Resist much, obey little.” - Walt Whitman

Sam Kiszka x F!OC

Authors note: Welcome Sam lane!!! This is the official start to Sam’s journey in the ISHIYE universe. This one starts around the same time ISHIYE started, so we’ll basically see what Sam has been up to this whole time. I will say that O, Pioneers along with every other spin off will make the most sense if ISHIYE is read beforehand. It’s all an interconnected universe and all the fics will reference each other to varying degrees. Every chapter besides this one will include a flashback to his Uni days. I hope you guys love this and I want to make Sammy Nation proud! I also hope you love my OC Natasha, as she just jumped into my head one day and hasn’t shut up since. Danny will also be heavily featured, it his actual story will be its own titled, “Running Through the Garden.” This is relatively short, but it’s a good little preview of what’s to come! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2060

Warnings: None for this chapter other than sweating!

It started with an email. One, stupid, email. One, professional, email. An email from one academic to another. Natasha just needed an extra source. Specifically, she needed to get her hands on a very specific journal. A journal that contained anatomical drawings and first hand accounts of the Lake Leelanau Creature. Colloquially it is referred to as the Leelanau Lake Monster, but the use of the word “monster” is frowned upon in Supernatural and Academic circles. Annoyingly, she only knew of one person who would be in possession of said journal. The one person whom she was perfectly fine never speaking to again: Sam Kiszka. He had built up quite the reputation in recent years with rumors of his immense archives and collection of particular artifacts. 

Natasha wrinkled her nose and adjusted her glasses as the cursor blinked on the screen. She could write emails like this in her sleep but the thought of asking him for something? Giving him the satisfaction that she needed his help? She’d rather be hit by a bus. However, she needed this information for an upcoming presentation and she had gathered almost all of her resources except this one. Adjusting her cat-eye frames one more time, she began typing.

From: [email protected] 

To: [email protected]

CC:

Subject: Lake Leelanau Journal

Dear Sam,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to you for a request for some scans from a book I know you possess and are familiar with: the Gautheir journal. Currently I am in the middle of a research project involving North American Sea Serpents and I need the pages with the anatomical drawings in particular, as well as any other pages pertaining to the first sighting of the Creature. Any contributions beyond that would be most appreciated. 

Kind Regards, 

Natasha E. Delaney 

States away, in eastern Michigan, a young scholar was startled by the sudden ding on his laptop, alerting him of a new email. With an arched brow he opened his inbox, and seeing the email address in the top bar brought back hoards of memories. 

Natasha. Fucking. Delaney. The only person to ever score higher on tests than him, to easily skate past him in grades, keep up with him during lectures, and narrowly beat out his GPA for the top of their graduating glass. He hadn’t spoken to her since graduation almost three years ago, but he couldn’t help being amused at the fact that she needed his help. He could just imagine that icy blonde hair of hers sitting on top of her head in a bun, those obnoxious cat-eye glasses resting on her nose while she bites the bullet and asks for his help. With a smirk on his face, he clicked on the reply button and began typing.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Dear Natasha, 

Unfortunately your email did not find me well, as I am in the middle of several projects myself. Here at Stardust Archives™ the stream of knowledge never stops, and neither shall I. I also regret to inform you that scanning said journal for those particular pages will be impossible, as that journal is much too fragile to be handled in such a way. I do however have a few recommendations for similar sources, which I have attached to this email. I am so sorry I was not able to assist you further. 

Good luck on your endeavors, 

Sam F. Kiszka 

He sat back as he clicked send, knowing that most of it was horse shit. He hadn’t been in an actual project in nearly a month, but she didn’t know that. But he wasn’t lying about the journal being too fragile for scanning. Theoretically it would be ok with current technology, but he didn’t want to risk it as it was a trusted family heirloom that was given to him in confidence. In this business, keeping contacts happy was nearly half the job. Word of mouth was crucial, and if you couldn’t be trusted to handle things with respect and care, what good were you? Satisfied, he stood up from his desk to go back to the new shipment of books he was sorting. 

“That mother fucker,” she seethed. Natasha read his email again, mocking the ‘here at Stardust Archives™…’ line to herself while scrunching up her face. She knew for a fact that while that journal was old, it wasn’t that old. The librarian who had recommended that particular volume to her in the first place even said that it shouldn’t be any trouble to get scans of the pages. To make it worse, those ‘resources’ he had sent weren’t helpful at all, and didn't even go into detail of the anatomy of the Creature, which was what she truly needed. Rolling her eyes, her fingers began tapping out her rebuttal. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Sam,

I’m so sorry to hear how busy you are. However I was told specifically that the Gauthier journal was preserved enough that scans wouldn’t be a problem at all. Has something changed? Has it been damaged in any way since it was last made public? I hope such an integral part to your own state's history would be treated with the utmost care. If I remember correctly from that class we both took, with Professor Andrews, paper from that time period would still be stable if exposed to light or a scanning device. In fact I remember he said once, “as long as you’re not mashing it down on a decrepit photo copier from 1993…”. Surely you have a better scanner than that? If you could get those scans to me as soon as you’re able, that would be wonderful. 

Regards, 

Natasha

The ding from Sam’s laptop alerted him again, and his smile quickly faded when he opened the mail program and saw Natasha’s response. On one hand, she had the right idea, but on the other hand, whatever project she needed it for was not worth the risk in his eyes. His mouth hung open in offense with her questioning his integrity to Michigan history. Artifacts from his home state were always given top priority, and to have her imply that he was being careless with any of them made his entire body tense. Instinctively, he wanted to just send back a simple, ‘no,’ but he knew that would only make her more relentless. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Nat,

You aren’t entirely wrong about it being possible, however the family who entrusted it to me made me promise -in writing- to keep it as well preserved as I possibly could. As such, any form of scanning or sudden exposure to light is just not an option.  I hope that the other resources I sent you were enough to suffice. I know whatever project you’re needing them for will manifest in the most riveting way. 

Godspeed, 

Sam F. Kiszka

Natasha tilted her head and cracked her neck when she saw the shortened form of her first name. She hated being called Nat. It was too close to the word for those annoying bugs. Worst of all, it was what her older sisters called her just to get under her skin. All three of them would repeat it over and over again when she was little and laughed when she got upset. Her oldest sister would even take it a step further and call her ‘Natty’ on occasion. She hated how it sounded, how it looked, and she much preferred the nickname ‘Tasha’ if she had a choice. Most of her fellow students called her Tasha, as well as her close friends. Even on blind dates she’d introduce herself as Tasha before anything else. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

Samuel,

I appreciate your passion for the preservation of critical documents, it’s truly inspiring, Professor Andrews would be proud. But I think you’re being rather difficult here. If not unreasonable. And no, those other resources did not help as they are not relevant to my ongoing project. I appreciate your confidence in my work, but what would truly help me be on my way would be your cooperation. 

Impatiently, 

Tasha

Sam stared at the screen. She really wasn’t going to let up, was she? He thought for a moment, and something in his brain wanted to physically hear her ask for his help. Maybe it was his ego, maybe it wasn’t, but he was impulsive enough to go out on a limb to satiate it. 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected] 

CC:

Attachments: Secondary Leelanau sources.pdf

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Lake Leelanau Journal

‘Tasha’,

Unfortunately, I must be away from my desk at this time due to other projects and meetings. However, if you would like to continue our correspondence, I will happily provide you my number for your convenience. 

[phone]

In eternal anticipation, 

‘Muel’

Natasha stared at the phone number on her screen. That little shit. He wanted to hear her ask. It didn’t take a genius to figure that part out. Maybe he wanted her to beg? He was arrogant enough to want such a thing. She wasn’t going to give in that easily. She wanted his arrogance in writing. If he couldn’t be professional and stick to emails, he was going to have her in his pocket at all times, constantly making his phone go off. Quickly she added his number as a new contact, and typed out her first ever text to Sam F. Kiszka. 

Natasha: Ok cut the shit, Kiszka why are you being difficult? 

Sam: Who is this?

Natasha: I swear to god, Sam

Sam: Ok ok, fine. Do you really want to see this journal that badly? 

Natasha: I have wasted an entire afternoon emailing you about it, so yes. 

Sam: Well as I said I can’t scan the pages. But if you would like to view them in person for your research, that can easily be arranged. 

Natasha: In person?

Sam: Yes, that's when people meet face to face. 

Natasha: I’m going to ignore that for my sanity, but don’t you live in Michigan?

Sam: Yes.

Natasha: You do know that I’m in Lakewood for my Masters right?

Sam: Yes, what is the issue?

Natasha: So you want to travel all the way to Vermont just because you are refusing to scan the pages? 

Sam: Oh I wouldn’t bring an artifact that fragile on a plane, you know that. You can simply come here. I know there’s a break coming up, if I remember our old schedule correctly. 

Natasha nearly threw her phone, but she wasn’t going to give up. Before she could fully type out a response she got another text.

Sam: And don’t worry about needing a hotel there’s plenty of room upstairs for you. My parents are in Canada on business and my brothers are off doing god knows what. 

Natasha: I’m sure I can find a hotel I don’t want to put you out

Sam: It's really no trouble, we have a separate guest room anyway that barely gets used 

She mulled it over for a few minutes. 

Natasha: Well I’ve never been to Michigan.

Sam: It’s much better than Vermont.

She sighed.

Natasha: Fine. I’ll talk to my professors and get it sorted out. The break starts in two days. 

Sam smirked at his phone and leaned back in his chair,  he was right.

Sam: Excellent. I’ll go dust the window sills and pick out the fanciest chocolate for your pillow.

Natasha: I’ll text you my flight details. 

Sam: Can’t wait, Nat ;)

Not wanting him to know that he bothered her, Natasha set her phone down and opened up another webpage to look up flights. By the weekend she was going to not only be in Sam Kiszka’s presence for the first time since graduation, but staying at his fucking house. 

What the fuck did she just agree to? 

To be continued...

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden  , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky ,

#sam kiszka #greta van fleet #sam gvf #o pioneers #rivals to lovers #forced proximity #dark academia #ISHIYE universe

[catgirlhell]

hi! about the "learn how it works before you start making assumptions" about the bluesky post and its networks; what assumptions should we be looking out for? that its not twitter and not everyone is going to be connected like on there? your description of federated networks is understandable, but the default domain it seems to have at signup is bluesky's. I feel like most people would be using this, and only people looking for a certain thing and knowingly leaving that "sphere" will know that theyre isolating to a different community.

I'm new to this too and theres very very minimal, well explained things about it online, and youre the only person I've come across who seems to know anything, so if you have more advice to share I'd appreciate it!

as much as I would like to answer this as an authority and really contribute to the nascent understanding of federated instances as an alternative to current social media platforms, the fact of the matter is that im not. i have a basic understanding of the way in which they work and how to use them, and I dont think im the best source of information. this being the case, since i did bring it up and i did get an ask, i'll try to explain the best i can.

the "fediverse" (dont mind the silly name, we know its silly) might best be explained with the similarities to email. Misskey, Mastodon, and others marketing themselves as federated instance platforms are basically like if you took your email account and stapled twitter to it: Misskey/Mastodon are not platforms themselves, so much as they are frameworks for web servers that connect to one another independently and are run by individuals. These frameworks are usually open source, have different alternative forks that offer different additional features/ui elements, and ultimately all connect to one another regardless. but they are not "platforms" like tumblr or twitter or facebook. anyone can make their own federated instance, and what that instance looks like depends on what framework they used to set it up.

Bluesky and Threads are different. Bluesky differs in that it is run on a private protocol-- it runs differently to the protocols used by the aforementioned open source alternatives and currently cannot connect with them. It's still in beta and its too early to call how it will operate. Threads, like Bluesky, is also a private protocol. At current, it merges your information with other Facebook/Meta products (facebook, instagram, etc). Supposedly, these will eventually be able to communicate with the Fediverse at large, but you should keep a great amount of suspicion with them, as both are run by billionaires. Bluesky is the project of the former head of twitter, and Threads obviously belongs to Zuckerburg and Facebook.

If you head about "x platform is homophobic/racist" in reference to the earlier federated instance frameworks, understand this very crucial thing about Mastodon/Misskey/etc:

They are not websites. They do not have established moderation policies and staff dedicated to managing who posts what.

as stated, Masto/Misskey are just server frameworks. Each federated instance using those frameworks is run by individuals on their own private web servers that they either operate themselves or rent out from a company. the largest Misskey instance, Misskey.io, is currently under fire for having homophobic moderation practices. This does not mean that every instance of Misskey is moderated with homophobia in mind, and homophobic moderation tools are not built into the code of Misskey.

As the old guard of web 2.0 crumbles, the internet is changing again. whether we fall back into the ad-friendly hellhole of yesteryear or we enter a new phase of the internet's wild west depends on platform migration patterns and whether or not people develop some pretty basic web and internet literacy that's been lost over the last 20 years as the internet corporatized and users had to learn less and less about how the websites they used work. my explanation here probably has incorrect information and holes in it, but that is because i, myself, do not fully understand the total extent to which the fediverse and federated protocols operate; i, too, am a layman.

that being said, i hope this was helpful to anyone trying to figure this stuff out. i've already carved my own space on a small, invite-only instance with friends, but i've got no plans to move shop until this place really does burn down to the ground. hope that helps. good luck!

#asktag #Anonymous #long post #fediverse #misskey #bluesky #this is why i said someone who can actually explain this and has an audience needs to get ahead of the curve #i dont think federated instances are super complicated if you have some webdev knowledge #but this new generation of people who grew up with the corporate internet might not have the first clue about operating it #in the end #all we can do is learn and adapt #if someone wants to poke a dozen holes in this post and better explain it #go for it

[singsweetmelodies]

hullo everyone 👋❤️ it's me again, hi, and i'm back with yet another too-long, probably too-sentimental post. this one is also about a f1 rpf milestone of mine, because of course it is, but this time it's about YOU as well.

allow me to set the scene a little first: a few weeks ago, i was double-checking the date on my first ever f1 rpf fic so i could make my sappy "i can't believe it's been a year you guys" post at the right time. i was going through my AO3 stats, and in so doing i happened to glance over at my little user subscriptions count - and proceeded to nearly fall out of my seat, because that counter was at 98. WHAT.

now, i'm not usually the kind of person who makes a big deal about amounts of followers, or whatnot. that's not really why i'm in fandom. but there is one exception, and that exception is: AO3 user subscriptions. because an AO3 user subscription is like... you're pretty much saying "i like this person's writing so much that i want to get a fucking EMAIL when they post a new work." to me, that's one of the biggest compliments ever. (maybe it's just because i personally am very stingy about my AO3 user subscriptions, lmao - i think i have about twelve, currently, if it's even that much. so the fact that 98 of you liked my writing enough to want that? and it's only barely been a year since i posted my first fic to this account? that blew my fucking mind, in the best way ever.)

i remember thinking to myself, "ohhh, if i get a few more in a couple of months' time, i need to do a phoebe and have some sort of a fic giveaway to celebrate the big 100 <333"

well, today i checked again, and there are a hundred and seven user subscriptions to my AO3. a hundred and seven. and THAT is just... well fuck me, i don't think i even have the words to express how much that means to me. over a hundred of you ACTUALLY LIKE MY WRITING THAT MUCH??? i can't quite reconcile it in my head, but... it means everything. it really does. i am so, so honoured - and also mildly teary-eyed, and definitely about to say a whole bunch of way-too-sappy things. this fandom is just so incredible, and supportive, and... AAAHHH, i love you all so so much. thank you so much for loving me back ❤️❤️❤️ unlike the monaco gp and charles SORRY, i had to do it. ouch. i had to 🥲🙈❤️

anyways! i did promise a fic giveaway, even if it was just to myself, so GIVEAWAY TIME IT IS!! you have all given me so much - endless support, smiles and love - so this is me officially opening up my writing folder to give something back to you, in turn ❤️

how this is going to work is:

step 1: you have to interact with this post in some way. (and by that i mean either reblog or comment, not just a like. it doesn't have to be a complicated comment or anything - just a ❤️, if you want. but just something so i know you're not a bot, lmao.) you have until Friday the 23rd of June - which is to say, 16 days from now. yes, sixteen. of COURSE. <3

step 2: i collect the names/URLs of everyone who interacted, and put them into a random name picker thingy. i will then use that to - randomly! - pick a P1, P2 and P3. (the emphasis on "random" is because I KNOW there are going to be some of my friends accusing me of fixing the results. I'M NOT GOING TO, GUYS. smh smh smh. it's going to be completely random, i swear it on my honour as a piarles shipper. 🙏)

step 3: PRIZES 😍🏆

for P1, what i'm offering is the following: an afternoon of unlimited access to the entirety of my WIP folder (including longfics, snippets, ideas and dreams and everything in various states of completion.) you then get to choose any WIP/snippet/idea you like the most, and i will write that in full and dedicate it to you. <3

for P2: also an afternoon of access to my WIPs folder, but excluding the longfic ideas - because i love you guys, i do, but i'm only human. i can't write all my longfic ideas at once, much as i wish i could 😅 bar longfics, though, everything else is on the table - you get to go through it all and pick whatever you like the most, and it'll be yours.

and for P3: pretty much the same as P2 - your choice of whichever of WIP idea (bar longfics) that you like the most, fully written and dedicated to you :D

why am i doing it like this and not offering a "prompt me whatever you'd like" type thing? well, if you really want, i can do that. the thing is just - i have way, WAY too many WIP ideas, and i'll probably never get to writing even a quarter of them if i don't give myself some form of accountability. and i feel pretty safe in saying i have enough WIP ideas that there's probably something in there for everyone. so it's a two birds one stone type of thing - a gift fic for you, and assurance that i will actually write at least some of my WIP ideas for me. (also idk about you, but i always adore hearing about other writers' ideas and seeing the ways their brains work 👀)

if you guys would prefer a prompt thing, though, then we can absolutely do it like that too! after all, at the end of the day, this is for you. i want you to like it, and think it's a cool idea, and celebrate this one with me <333

because this is, from the bottom of my heart, a thank you. thank you to each and every one of you who hit that "subscribe" button on AO3, and helped me reach a fandom milestone i didn't think i would achieve for a long while yet. thank you for the endless support and enthusiasm and love. thank you, thank you, thank you. and i love you all ❤️❤️❤️

#katie's 100+ celebration #aka; area woman has a breakdown over emails; but in a good way for once #LMAO #in all seriousness though... thank you all SO so much for this #i am beyond touched and honoured #just. ❤️❤️❤️ @ you all

[black-wolf-spirit-art]

It's okay to have some miscommunication and miss some details on some parts. As long as you communicate further to fix an issue, everything is okay!

Since there is money involved, the matter on the situation is much more important, definitely, and the client is the boss.. but don't beat yourself up for this, okay? Mistakes happens and you went through a rough one...

Just take the time to talk things out and take as much details as possible next time so you can prevent unnecessary comes and goes.

Just please understand the client like the client understands you too so everyone gets a win!/lh

Hi there! I assume this was about the Afreakingdorks post. Thank you that's very sweet. And thank you for reaching out.

There was absolutely some miss communication between the two of us and I adapted to all of her requests as best I could. The issues arose when she requested more than 3 edits past the sketch phase. In my price sheet I state that they are alowed unlimited edits in the sketch phase, then 3 free edits past the sketch stage, but after 3 edits I would need to start charging for my time. This is when the issues began because they were unwilling to pay for edits but insisted, I make them for free. When they were unwilling to compromise, and the conversation was seeming to go downhill I agreed to show them the flats layer to prove I did in fact add gray to their Sona's fur and reduced the opacity in the light layers to make them show more. I also emailed the files to them with the edit function enabled so they could mess with the files any way they pleased since it was not quite what they had wanted. I also offered them a 50% refund for the piece which they refused. I know they were also talking about the file "conveniently appearing" after they harassed me on 2 different tumblr accounts. But they didn't consider that I had sent them 3 high resolution PNG's that take a few minutes to send over. So I guess to her it looked like they just appeared after she started spamming me on her two other accounts.

To be perfectly clear to any of her followers that came to my page due to this altercation. She received several WIP's. She made edits to those WIP's which I then made, and she approved of them/ gave the thumbs up for me to continue the illustration. This happened several times during the sketch phase and 3 times during the line art phase. She then received said finished piece but requested more edits for free. When I told her I couldn't make any more edits for free she got upset. She requested I send what I had to her email which I did, and she received it. The transaction was completed.

She also showed screenshots of our conversation but cut them up and rearranged them to make it look like I was taking advantage of her on her blog.

I've been receiving commissions for over 5 years and never had an issue with a customer. I'm always willing to compromise with the customer as well. But once it was clear she was trying to get more work for free and continued to gaslight me in the conversation, it was time for the transaction to end. They paid for a fully rendered illustration with two characters and two side images. I illustrated the background for free for them. Thats the full image they received. I would share our screenshots as well and the image itself but since It was an NSFW piece and there are minors following me I do not want to expose the imagery to on this platform.

There were several instances where they were directing me to manga/comic style while contradicting themselves and insisting I draw it in my own style and liked where the piece was going which added another layer of confusion.

All and all this has absolutely been an interesting customer experience. If she wants to moan about how I hurt her reputation and sladerd her good name, she has ever right and I certainly won't stop her. It's disappointing to see from a 31 year old adult. But what can you do, I'm not willing to add to her pitty party.

I'm sorry to keep going on about this. That was a long post and I really appreciate the fact her followers are willing to stand up for her so much.

I'm just an illustrator she commissioned to draw her sona having sex with Donnie from ROTTMNT in a bathroom stall. I'm not interested in making this into a whole ordeal.

[therealvinelle]

I think the cullens are all older than computers, so... who is actually good at them and who uses computers like a grandpa?

Well, the thing is being bad at computers isn't really about age. I'll try to tdlr, but my five cents on why computers are so difficult to some people and particularly those of older generations are that it's mainly due to two factors:

The inmates are running the asylum, or: computers aren't actually that intuitive

An issue I often see when I see someone fail to properly interact with a computer is that what they think should happen isn't what happens, or that what they want to do next isn't what the system allows them to do next. This isn't necessarily their failing, their logic can be flawless, it's just that the computer doesn't work like that. Now the user is unable to accomplish their task, they feel they've failed, and from there you get frustration and a sense of difficulty. If this happens often enough, which if often will if the person never learns computer logic (for lack of a better term), the person ends up throwing their hands in the air and concluding they're bad at computers.

(An example of what I mean by computer logic: different browsers, devices, and accounts works tend to confuse people. "I'm logged into my mail, why is it making me log in again?" - person who was logged in on Safari but tried to access their mail through Chrome. It's the same computer, and what's a browser? Add the fact they're logged into their mail on phone and that works just fine for extra confusion points.)

Considering how the purpose of computers is to make our lives simpler I consider this a failing on the computer's end, not the humans. Is it a problem they can necessarily help, no, but part of the problem is that the people designing and implementing computer systems are people who, for lack of a better term, think computer logic is perfectly reasonable (hence "the inmates are running the asylum" (reading material)). That, and figuring out how to make X thing user friendly (and something users actually want to use) is... so hard, you've no idea how hard it can be.

Obviously this is issue is a complicated one and computers being what they are you're never going to be able to make them work the way humans wish they would (it would be nice if your computer intuitively knew it was you and there was no such thing as accounts, good luck implementing that), my point isn't really why computers are the way they are. It's that humans think a certain way, computers another, and for some people it's going to be very difficult to come around to understanding the computer's way of doing things. They'll memorise the steps required to accomplish a given task, or master specific systems because they're familiar. Introduce an update where suddenly everything's changed, however, or have them run into a problem when accomplishing a familiar task, and they struggle.

Defeatism and failure to diagnose the problem

I'll be much briefer here than above and I did touch on it already, but in essence: so many of the people I know who struggle with computers have A: decided that computers are difficult and they're not going to get it right anyway so why try, and/or B: internalised the memorise-the-steps method to the point where that's how they interact with computers, always. Time to learn how to check your new email, aight, guess I'll out which buttons to click.

After all, computers are such strange beasts that in order to get anything right you need to memorise exactly what you need to do, or it'll never work and you'll be stuck at some login page forever.

That, and some people seem to straight up find computers intimidating, "I'll stick to analog." Oh, and let's not forget the "I know how to accomplish the tasks I need to so I'm alright.", an approach that's all well and good until you encounter a problem you have no idea how to go about solving.

(I'll admit I'm basing this point entirely on computer illiterate family members and armchair thinky thoughts.)

Conclusion

It's my understanding that older generations struggle more obviously (word choice here: it tends to be more obvious with older people, younger people do not automatically understand what they’re doing) with computers not because they're being stupid, but because of their logical approach. They never really get the gist of how to interact with computers and get stuck in these weird vicious loops, "I'm not going to learn anything/I know what I need so why try for more". Why it’s so much harder for older generations, I don’t have a good or succinct answer but the two things I’ve listed seem to me to be the main obstacles they contend with.

With that in mind, onto your actual question.

Would the Cullens be able to learn computers, or: who is able to adapt and avoid getting stuck in vicious cycles:

Alice adapts fairly well, since she can see ahead of time which button to click. Because of this she never actually has to learn why things work the way they do, but everyone thinks she's a computer whiz all the same.

Bella gets a new computer now that she's a Cullen. It's really fast and there's no longer half a million pop ups when she uses the internet, Bella concludes becoming a vampire even made her better at computers.

Carlisle is forced to use computers from the 80's onwards as they enter American workplaces. He has had to learn how to use more unspeakably horrid workplace systems than he cares to remember, it's all a blur. He's not going to be glued to the home computer either, it's... nice, and he probably should learn how to navigate the internet better, but he knows how to find the things he's interested in and is happy with that.

Edward would have to learn computers as a matter of pride once they became ubiquitous in households. I can see him taking a programming class just so he can flaunt sexy words like "terminal" and "homebrew" to his very impressed family.

Emmett I think would make a few cursory attempts to navigate computers when they became accessible to normal households, only to find them pretty lame. He'll be outside if the nerds need him.

Esme gets stupidly good at software for architects and interior designers, and can navigate the web to find and share various recipes and household tips with perfect ease. She keeps this to herself because ordering things online for her while she claps in amazement makes Edward so proud of himself.

Jasper I think would be of the same opinion as Carlisle, computers are nice and he knows how to get what he wants, no real interest beyond that. At least, no immediate "wow, computers!! I'm gonna spend so many hours on the internet!!" enthusiasm coming from that direction.

Renesmee has no idea how computers work, zero. However, she's young so everyone including Bella assume she must be a whiz. Renesmee is not a whiz.

Rosalie has studied far too much STEM to be able to escape programming. If anybody in the Cullen family can actually code it's going to be her, though Alice thinks she's useless because jeeze Rose, you can create graphs of balls falling from various heights but not a single pretty website, while Edward hurries to throw in that he knows programming too, you know. Check out this class.

#the cullens #cullens #rosalie hale #esme cullen #edward cullen #carlisle cullen #jasper hale #alice cullen #emmett cullen #computers #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #bella swan #renesmee cullen

[samijami]

I have a problem and can't access my fake account, so I will let you guys know if I need to make a new one

But other than that, the plan seems to be going well and I'm somewhat relieved as of now

My friend irl is 100% going along with and even helping fake evidence to pin blames on the bitch named KJ

Just so you guys can know the full context of that, last week KJ tried to spread a rumour that my bf was cheating on me, so i have a grudge against her and i hate her (she's always been rude and really upset my bf). So this week when my friend irl told on me sending her snapchat messages when I was having a mental breakdown and wanting to die, then proceeding to get high off of painkillers, and I got into all of this shit because of that, she felt really bad because she didn't intend for it to go this far. She was just really really worried about me (but I can't help but be mad at her, but not take it out on her ofc cuz she's bending hell to help me rn)

So even though the counselor and CPS (which the school called) know that my friend reported it and the messages were real, the principal and other staff aren't aware of who reported me..or that there are messages. Although we are pretty sure that with my principal looking into it, he'll find out my friend reported me- so we're lying to say that KJ faked SnapChat messages and told her to concern her and get her to start drama with the office as revenge for me snitching and getting her a Friday school.

But during all of this, my father called the school to know who called CPS, and the principal ended up spilling about me being LGBTQ and having a trans bf, so I need to cover up two huge things here that can fuck me over. My home life would be a living hell and I'd kill myself to not live in the environment where my father knows I'm LGBTQ, and he wouldn't let me attend a vocational school i wanna go to if my bf went to it, so he'd be uining my only hopes of having some form of a future. So it'd be useless

And as of today, I had a talk to the principal where I had to be really transphobic about my bf so I can appeal to his ideologies and get by convincing him I wasn't gay so he'd convey it back to my father. Since I'd previously told him KJ 'started a rumour about me and my friend' (that being the cheating rumour) i decided to utilise that fact to my advantage by saying the rumour was us dating, and that it wasn't true. I had to deadname and misgender my bf the whole time and I felt awful..but he believed me and that's what matters

I told the principal about the 'hunch it was KJ who started this' and she was called to the office at one point. She came back in guitar class and she almost seemed like she was crying?..but the look on her face and the way she stared at me read that..she was pissed. So I started to play 'Ode to Joy' really loudly on my guitar as she walked past, then a smiled when she looked away.

She kept looking over at me, and didn't even play guitar but instead was on her computer the whole class. She always gave me this dirty fucking look.

She kind of did ask me to throw her under twenty buses when she fucked me over before, and she's my only logical blame since it'd make sense for her to do something like this

I got my bf to delete some emails we've sent to each other so our lazy ass principal won't find em (of me comforting him about our relationship over the cheating rumour), and now we can't be out at school (atleast until my father and his chatting chills out). Cuz the principal wants me to stop being so close to him, and will report back to my father with any shit we do together.

So we're tryna get our friend to sit with us in lunch more so it dont look like us watching our show at lunch is a romantic thing

And I lost a part to my wired ear buds we were sharing (and it's kind of awkward with the wire) so since I had a shit ton of money on me today and went out to the mall (and spent 100 fucking dollars), I stopped by another store and bought some wireless earbuds and a case

So I spent like 130-140$ plus gave my friend 60$ to buy me a phone, which she will give me the change to a 50$ (+tax) phone on Monday.

Also same friend got me a bag where I shoved a lot of my gay and illegal items in so the principal won't see the gay magnets in my locker, nor will CPS find it (since they said they'd report it to my parents), and I definitely don't want CPS finding my illegal shit (vape, cigarettes + lighter, and painkillers I abuse).

So as of right now, the plan is doing fine. I'm not going to speak ahead of time, cuz my room is still going to be looked through and all..but there's a slim chance that CPS will just drop the case and not return. But that's also a call for a miracle. However if CPS were to fuck off, then this whole situation would subside and everything would be fine

I just hope they'll fucking drop it

#tw cursing #tw cussing #tw romance #tw drugs #tw drvgs #tw drug mention

[altschmerzes]

also. once a-fucking-gain The Fuckening Continues To Continue With My Fucking Dad’s Fucking Estate and the way everyone is handling it in a way that seems COORDINATED to be as cruel to me specifically as possible. sorry for Continuing Oversharing lmao hopefully this is just. done now.

to recap the previous Fuckening, i was misled in a way that feels extremely clear and deliberate by the HR lady at my - abusive, now deceased - father’s work to think i was a beneficiary of his life insurance policy. I Am Not. my sister is the sole beneficiary and im named as the contingent which based on surrounding context is something he did as a “fuck you” to me for not having anything to do with him for the last seven years. as a result of the way the HR lady spoke to me about it - grouping my sister and i together as a unit, as Beneficiaries, plural, etc - i ended up under the clear impression i was one, until a phone call with the insurance company cleared up that he basically disinherited me as directly and deliberately as possible. even so, i have been dealing with the major bulk of the stuff his work and associated accounts and estate stuff needed from the family, because my sister is too despondent to want to deal with any of it and is refusing to answer phone calls, emails, or do any paperwork. my mom is babying and coddling them about it, as per the usual approach to my sister, who it is a cardinal sin to upset in my family.

so today i get Another email from the HR woman at my dad’s work. she is like haha yeah too bad i wasn’t clearer that you don’t get anything before making you do all this work! anyways, we need xyz paperwork from you guys still :). and i just.

she is. STILL hounding me for shit i dont have and am not INVOLVED IN because my fucking sister - who by the way is a grownass adult, and i know i sound insensitive but they’re almost 24 and i know they’re grieving but im not exactly having a fucking awesome time here - is dodging all attempts to contact them.

so i email her back and say i am almost entirely uninvolved in any of this please contact my mother or sister for further assistance. and then screenshot the email and texted it to my mother and told her hey. im done dealing with this. please take point on this because my sister’s inability to answer an email has caused ME to carry the burden of all of this constantly and i have compassion for them and what they’re going through but im fucking done. but in like. lawyer speak.

mistake, clearly, to mention my sister at all bc in the ensuing back and forth where im attempting to make it clear that my sister’s consistent non-responsiveness from the very beginning have made me the only person who will answer a phone call or email from this HR lady who has important paperwork she needs to do, and i am fucking Finished and will Not be doing this anymore because for obvious fucking reasons im uninterested in doing any more work for this estate situation - and fuck this lady for effectively lying by implication to get me to chase my mom and sister down for her. and all my mom is doing is getting defensive and protective of my sister. ignores a message i sent her that was long enough it wasn’t containable in a single phone screen and sends back two brief sentences about how my sister is completely blameless for anything and they don’t even have the paperwork HR Lady wants from us. and goes around and around about how my sister has done Everything Right and any contact i’ve gotten from HR Lady is not related. despite this woman saying to me repeatedly “we have not heard from your sister” as an explanation for why she was emailing to calling me.

the whole time too im like. texting her in Lawyer Speak lmao i am writing this as if i am communicating with Combative Opposing Council.

and it just. my fucking mom. the fucking fact that my mother is prioritizing my sister over me even in a direct conversation with me when she knows well and fucking good why i might be KIND OF UPSET RIGHT NOW - and it’s something she herself seems upset! - about is just like. gd. yeah. this isn’t news but this is such a clear and fucking. ice cold reminder that she has one child she will invest any amount of energy into and it is not me and it never will be. she has room in her heart to care about One Kid At A Time - which she has fucking all but TOLD ME to my face before - and it will never, ever be me.

“i know we’re ignoring you lately but your sister needs us and the squeaky wheel gets the grease” real thing my mom said to me when i was like, sixteen. fucking incredible. nothing ever changes does it.

like i know my sister was getting really close to the fucking bastard before he kicked it and is devastated about this but does anyone want to spare two fucking seconds to consider that my father fucking died too and just because im not SAD about it doesn’t mean im not dealing with some seriously upsetting and emotionally heavy shit. like perhaps the administration of my abuser’s estate - which he CUT ME OUT OF as directly as he could without writing a will to disown me in - isn’t something i should be forced to deal with and be retraumatized by because my sister, the precious baby of the family, is fucking sad. my mom said to my grandmother at some point about all this that “[gav] and [sister] didn’t get the same dad” and the fact that she is at least that aware of how this is impacting me and is still getting defensive of my sister when talking directly to me about how this is impacting ME is like. jesus jennifer.

they can just all go to hell and leave me the fuck alone.

#gav gab #abuse cw #long post #im done. im literally just done. #sorry im like. incredibly angry about this still. gd #death cw

[ariesgamesandminis]

A long overdue "New Site" update…it's a little long, but PLEASE READ IT, plus there is a double surprise buried in the post. Consider it a little bit of a treasure hunt to make you read!

First up…to those out in Nebraska with that tornado, my thoughts are with you all.

Sorry to everyone on the delay with an update, I've been VERY hard at work migrating everything I could over to the new site, and sadly…there were migration issues which I expected there would be, but not the amount, or the errors. I tend to be a bit overly anal with how I want things done, how I want them to work and be presented to the customer, and as such…I keep finding little things here & there I don't like and want changed. Either I can change it or I need whomever on the support team to change it, and due to that, sometimes it just takes a little bit longer. So while I wait…I search for bugs, and I squash them. I'm one of those…let's make it better than 100% kinda guys.

ANYWAYS…I wanted to let you all know, as I said previously, we are very close to launching, and there are a few things to be aware of!!!

When we launch, I will simply take down the blocked landing page you currently cannot get past, and I will not announce it because when I do…I'll be sending out account activation emails first. PLEASE WAIT FOR YOUR ACCOUNT ACTIVATION EMAIL!!! This will be an automated send, I just click a button and it will send out batches of emails for me. The problem here is that I have almost 10,000 customers currently (this fact blew me away, but some them I think are fake accounts and some have never purchased anything for whatever reason)…this process will take a while to happen!!! It might be a day, it might be two days, just please wait otherwise you will have issues logging in.

While I was able to import 100% of the customer accounts, I was NOT able to import about 90% of the addresses. This is due to multiple accounts having 5 or more addresses listed as ship-to listings due to moving around the country, being stationed overseas in the military, etc. For sanity reasons, I did not pick an address to import as most would likely be the wrong one…but that won't stop you from checking out. Just fill in your address when you check out, it's that simple.

Again…as we have posted before, we COULD NOT migrate your Wishlist (items you saved in a list you want to purchase later on), and we COULD NOT migrate your Waislist (items that were out of stock at the time and you would get an email when they were restocked).

The Wishlists were just S.O.L. for exporting data. Nothing I could do there.

The Waitlist for Back In Stock Notifications however…I was able to export, but there is no way to import that data, and as such, I have a file with over 700 entries on it, so I would HIHGLY suggest if you had something you were signed up for to be notified when it comes back in stock…EMAIL ME so I can send you the list. There's too many people on the list to email them all out, it would cause everyone's email servers to mark me as a spam bot and then you'd never see the store emails.

During this migration, we've received the 4 NEW releases from Iron Wind Metals which are the new Rifleman, Archer, Night Gyr, and Jade Phoenis A variant as well as a full restock on Iron Wind Metals miniatures, 2 restocks on Catalyst Game Labs including Clan Invasion Salvage Boxes, The Army Painter which included restocks on the brand new Fanatics line of paints, Gale Force Nine including the new Atlean Steppes bundle from Thunderhead Studio, some Pokemon items, and various other pieces.

We've also got 4 whole new lines showing up! 2 of which are ALREADY STOCKED RIGHT NOW (one has been requested over and over and I'm going against my better judgement in expanding this section of the store, so we shall see how that goes), another will hopefully be stocked in the next 2-4 weeks…and the other about 2 months from now!

The past shipping issues of the US Postal Service and UPS overquoting SEEM to be gone. I've tested this EXTENSIVELY and after roughly 10 years of dealing with that, and being stuck in the middle of those services blaming the shopping software and then the shopping software blaming those services…I just cannot be happier to move on from that problem. It was a MASSIVE pain in the butt, and I'm happy to have that behind me. However I will say this, I did do some tweaking to the shipping system on the new site which may, or may not need to be reverted. Only time will tell as more orders come in, but my testing says it's solid…but customers always find a way to make me pull what's left of my hair out as they submit an order I never thought possible! LOL

Local Pickup is now an option for ALL U.S. based customers…so if happen to be traveling from California and are passing through Kenosha WI…we can accommodate that, but as with the previous system, we will email you to arrange a time & date that works for all of us!

U.K. customers…sorry, but you guys still have to get past that dollar threshold to have shipping options show up. My best advice as always…DO GROUP PURCHASES!!!

Germany…yes, I know, you're still starving for stuff. I'm working on it, but it's not easy due to language barriers with companies out that way…but yes, I'M WORKING ON IT!!!

Lastly, and this is a recent development, we will be expanding our offerings of Digital STL files! We are going to do a little expansion there, just to see how it works out. This was literally a "just last week" thing, which I'm working on the interface now for and that pushed things back a day or two, so sorry on that. More on this in the coming weeks.

With all that said…we plan to open in the next couple days (best case scenario), and start those account activation emails rolling out. So keep an eye out on your emails!!!

[laf-outloud]

//Ouch! I guess Misha's begging didn't work.//

I'm sure you saw but just in case (and for those who didn't), MC sent out an email through Gish on Monday:

Hey, friend!

Sorry I’ve been a little out of touch; I’ve been tied up working on a new show, Gotham Knights, playing Harvey Dent who becomes the Batman supervillain, "Two-Face." The character gets progressively darker and more insane as the show progresses. (In fact, by the time we get to the season finale you will see that Harvey has become so maniacally evil that he’s basically indiscernible from my daily persona as the Misha you’ve come to know and fear over the years.)

If you missed the first couple of episodes, you can still catch up—it’s on The CW app and website. Then, you can watch new episodes every Tuesday on the CW at 9/8 central. Do me a favor? Watch the show and email me back to let me know what you think (or you can text me at 323-405-9939 if that’s easier). Thanks!

Your two-faced friend,

Misha

PS: When you watch, could you do me one more favor: post about it on social media and tag #CWGothamKnights? I know this is shameless self-promotion, but any support we get improves the chances that we’ll get another season. (If that happens, I’ll get a chance to really showcase my duplicitous side, so I figured I might as well start practicing my "nefarious scheming" skills now.) Thanks.

So yea, he's getting very desperate ad using all means at his disposal to try and drum up attention. However, anyone who gets those emails already has a pretty set opinion on him and GK so sending out an email to people who are already either his fans or his haters isn't going to get any more eyes on the show. But is does show his hand and the desperation there.

LOL! I saw a couple of posts about it yesterday, but seeing the actual text is... well... I don't quite know what to make of it.

On the one hand, begging is entirely unattractive and pathetic, and it's consistent with the way he begged for people to buy his poetry book.

On the other hand, Misha's putting more work each week into promoting the show than the Ackles did for the entire run of TW, so his pandering effort is unmatched.

But to your last paragraph, you're exactly right! He's not expanding the audience, he's just catering to his fans who are already watching. (And using his former charity account, which seems to me a conflict of interest... especially if he takes in any donations this tax year.)

#ask box #anti misha #anti gotham knights #pandering misha #anti ackles #anti spn prequel #just in case

[purposefully-lost]

Prey Animal: Introduction

"The first correspondence I shared with Alex Prescott was an email that read as follows:

I'm thinking of writing a memoir. A friend passed your name along. Are you interested?

At first, I thought, who the hell is this guy? Decades of working in publishing, and I've never been approached in such an arrogant manner. Then I looked up his name, and suffice to say, I was interested.

We met in person only a week later, at a little hole-in-the-wall café on the outskirts of Nashville, where he'd been staying at the time to work on some project or another. I wasn't sure what to expect. Alexander Prescott was, by all accounts, a reclusive man who was difficult to find and even more difficult to get a single word from. His work keeps him on the road, and his disposition towards his own field of journalism can make him less than warm to those who seek him out. What I found, sitting in a corner table and each sharing a half of a sub, was that "reclusive" does not even begin to describe him.

He walked in five minutes late. I had guessed it was him just from the anxious set to his shoulders, the way he canvassed the room like he was certain something would jump from the shadows. He walked with a cane, and as he approached our table I'd realized that it was decorated up the sides by vines burned into the wood. He greeted me with all the polite words and gestures, but there was nothing polite in his eyes. I was very interested.

I thought that perhaps he was anxious because of the subject matter of his story. I thought, of course he is a reclusive man, he suffered something traumatic in his youth and was never allowed to forget it. I thought that perhaps he'd come to me solely because of that recommendation from a friend. He proved me wrong very quickly.

"I need you to help me write this book," he said, "in a way that won't get me arrested."

I've worked as an agent for many interesting people with many interesting secrets. They are, sort of, my specialty. Whistleblowers, criminals, ex-cultists, the works. I've never worked with anyone quite like Alexander Prescott.

There were not words then that could prepare me for the story he would begin to tell, and there are not words I could use to prepare you now. Assuming you are someone who's been aware of this story for a long time- and most of us are, at least in passing- then everything that you know is wrong. At the very, very least, you do not have all of the facts. That was something Alex said often when I pressed him on why he was writing this; they do not have all of the facts. They don't know him like I did.

Despite keeping himself well-hidden from the rest of the world, Alex is a man that I came to like very well as we worked together. There is a sense of humor and charm hidden underneath his many layers of irony that is very genuine in a way few people can be. Even though he approached me first, I often had to push him to give more details. More, more, more, until he would finally relent. Sometimes, he'd tell me to fuck off. And sometimes he would still then revise his draft and send me a copy with just slightly more detail than before. Reading his story bit by bit, watching as it filled in all the holes in the life of Jonathan Stone, was both a fascinating and heartbreaking experience. I hold no fondness for anyone with a body count, but Alex makes it difficult to not understand why he loved the man he did. He makes it difficult to remember, when you're sharing a lunch with him, that he has been keeping so many secrets for so many years.

This book often feels as if it is not Alex's alone. When he said to me that he wanted to include several chapters detailing what he'd learned second-hand from Jonathan, I was a little skeptical. After all, the man had been dead for twenty years, and digging through Alex's memory of his own life was already an arduous enough task. But Alex is a journalist at heart, and he knows as well as I do that the devil is in the details; many things Jonathan said were written down, recorded, and filed away for safe-keeping. It is this trait of Alex's, and his unwillingness to let Jonathan go, which truly shapes the story he sat down to tell. After you spend so much time with Alex, you almost begin to feel that Jack is in the room with you, too.

Alexander Prescott and Jonathan Stone both are difficult people to describe. Once you turn the pages of this memoir, I think you'll begin to understand what I mean. They are not good people. Alex will agree with me. They are, however, people you will find yourself feeling, and feeling very deeply, for. If nothing else, you will be forced to acknowledge that they are, in fact, human, and that all that they did, they did for the same pursuits of love and life that you or I share.

It's a very heavy ride. Good luck."

- Maria Finch, Agent

#prey animal #drabble #alex prescott #😔❤️