#laptop temporary files

[itbabasachinsharma]

Delete All Temporary Files||Computer Ki Speed Kaise BadhayeWindows 7,8,10||OneClick||By SachinSharma

[nettlestingsoup]

is the new seungbin lovebug au a fanfiction, or is it an excuse for me to infodump nature facts? take a wild guess!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [38] - The End

A.N: The last chapter! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful support throughout the story my loves, you're amazing! ❤️

Summary: The heir becomes the boss.

Word Count: 3537

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

The week after you almost died was chaotic, and not even for the reasons you had assumed earlier.

Needless to say, everyone in your life was out for blood, but the problem was that there was a specific lack of people to take revenge on.

“Do you think it’ll go back to how it used to be?” you asked Bucky as you turned your head to inspect your nose in the hallway mirror while he kept pacing in the living room, gritting his teeth while he typed something into his phone.

“We should kill every person who worked for Ian.”

“Because Sarah said it would go back to normal but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I bet Ryan can give us a list, and—”

“Ryan already killed his inner circle that night.”

“There has to be some people left,” Bucky insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Bucky, you can’t kill people just because they worked for Ian,” you said. “Most of them switched sides already—”

“That’s not enough, and once a traitor always a traitor.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to him to stop his pacing, cupping his cheek. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes locked in yours as he clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep it together.

“Buck.”

“They hurt you.”

“Not really, the ones who hurt me are dead,” you said. “I killed one of them, Ryan killed the rest.”

“I need to do something,” he insisted through his teeth. “I…it’s bad enough that I let you get hurt—”

“You didn’t let me get hurt.”

“I was supposed to protect you,” he said. “Not…not you or Ryan.”

“I’ll let the next person who tries to kill me know about that.”

“Charm.”

“Bucky,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“Your nose is broken,” he reminded you. “There are stitches on your head.”

“Both of those things are temporary,” you assured him. “Seriously. Besides I…you know, it’ll be a good look for the sit down tomorrow night. I’ll look badass.”

He opened his mouth to argue but you both turned your heads when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out and the front door opened before Ryan stepped into the apartment, his hands clasped behind him, his back completely straight in the perfect soldier pose.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Mr. Barnes.”

“Ryan, hi!” you said. “You’re back already?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said before stealing a look at Bucky and you waved a hand in the air.

“You can say whatever you want to say in front of Bucky.”

“When I asked to have the morning off, I took the liberty of visiting Mr. Ian’s warehouse,” Ryan said, making you tilt your head.

“He had a warehouse?”

“Yes ma’am. I wanted to make sure we have cleaned out everyone who might still support him or pose a threat to you, so…” he trailed off and pulled out a flash drive from his pocket, extending his hand. You took it from him, then heaved a sigh.

“Anyone we know?”

“I didn’t check what’s inside, ma’am,” he said. “The only reason why I didn’t say where I was going was because I wasn’t sure if there was anything inside that warehouse, but there was. We found it in the safe.”

“We?” Bucky repeated and Ryan nodded.

“One of my trusted men, sir, he can crack open any case.”

You pressed your lips together as you plugged the drive into your laptop, then clicked on the first file and let out a breath, staring at the screen.

“That fucker…” you murmured. “Ah. Well now it makes sense.”

“What?” Bucky asked and you licked your lips.

“Check out the name here.”

Bucky came closer to see the screen, then raised his brows.

“Should’ve known,” he muttered. “If there was going to be anyone HYDRA had its claws in, it’d be Ian.”

“I didn’t think he was this big of an idiot.”

“Did you know he was making deals with HYDRA?” Bucky asked Ryan who shook his head.

“No sir, I wasn’t allowed in most of the meetings. Mrs. Barnes saw it before.”

“Yeah, he kept him outside,” you said. “Figures. Oh, my dad will hate this.”

“Will you tell the others?”

You paused for a moment, then shook your head.

“No,” you said. “This stays in the family—that includes you as well, Ryan.”

Ryan bowed slightly. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Will you give us a moment please?” you asked him and he nodded, then walked out of the room. You turned to Bucky, tapping your fingertips on the kitchen island.

“This is how they had all those attacks on everyone’s territory—everyone’s but ours,” you told him. “That’s how Ian knew it wasn’t HYDRA, but us.”

“I guess he’s lucky you killed him already,” Bucky said. “This is betrayal. People would be racing each other to kill him.”

“Working with HYDRA though?” you insisted. “That doesn’t just mean betraying others, it means betraying the family. Forget the other bosses, my dad would kill him if he heard about this.”

Bucky grinned. “That argument should come in handy. This afternoon.”

You shook your head.

“I am not looking forward to that,” you murmured. “Especially with my aunt there.”

“She’s still here?”

“She’s leaving the city today, apparently,” you said. “I doubt she’ll go without giving me a piece of her mind first.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“No,” you said. “You have your own stuff for preparation for tomorrow, to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he cut you off. “There won’t be anyone against you being there, we already know that.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

He nodded his head and came closer to carefully kiss you on the top of your head while you pocketed the flash drive, then looked up at him with a small grin.

“Seriously, how bad do I look?” you asked him and he let out a chuckle.

“You look breathtaking as usual, baby.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a small push to his arm and he caught your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m serious. Broken nose or not, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen my whole life.”

You could feel a smile curling your lips.

“And not fucking you until you get better will be torture,” Bucky added, making you scoff a laugh.

“So romantic.”

“Only for you,” he played along and slapped your butt. “Come on. We both have things to do, boss.”

“Aw I can get used to that,” you said, still grinning, then walked out of the apartment. Ryan was already waiting for you by the entrance, and straightened his back as soon as he saw you.

“Ma’am.”

“Let’s go pay a visit to my dear father,” you said and walked to the elevator with him following you.

                                               *

Your father had been furious when he saw you at the hospital, so much that you thought he would’ve killed Ian if you hadn’t.

Well, technically Bucky would kill Ian before him but…

So you knew he was going to be happy to see you but you weren’t so sure if the feeling was gonna last when he heard what you were going to say to him.

Your aunt was on her way out, loading her suitcases to the car when your car pulled over in front of the house and you heaved a sigh, then gritted your teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t see this conversation coming, yet that did nothing to put you at ease.

“Here we go,” you murmured as the driver opened your door for you and you stepped out, your aunt gritting her teeth the moment she saw you.

“Auntie,” you said and she held up a hand, gesturing you to be silent.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t call me that.”

“Is father inside?”

“You’re a monster,” she spat and you pursed your lips together.

“He was going to kill me,” you told her. “You know the rules, and so did he. Don’t blame me if he was too stupid to win.”

She eyed you up and down, making Ryan take a step closer but you motioned at him to stop.

“It’s fine Ryan, thank you,” you told him before your aunt let out a hysterical laugh.

“I see you surround yourself with traitors already.”

“Ryan is my right hand auntie, you need to respect him,” you told her, making Ryan give you a proud smile before his expression turned stony again upon turning to look at your aunt.

“I do hope you and Bucky have a son,” your aunt said through her teeth. “Because trust me, I will take him away from you.”

You managed to keep your expression completely calm despite the small shudder running down your spine.

“You can try,” you told her and she scoffed, then got into the car and slammed the door. You shook your head slightly, climbing the stairs to walk through the front door.

“I apologize on her behalf, Ryan,” you told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t, ma’am,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. She’s a mother, it’s normal that she’s angry at me.”

“Well if my mother were here, she would tear her apart for what her son tried to do,” you muttered as you stopped by the door to your father’s office. The men waiting there nodded at you and you knocked on the door, then peeked your head in.

“Dad?”

“Oh sweetheart, come in!” he said, standing up from his seat. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Good things I hope,” you muttered, letting him kiss your cheek before you sat down on the armchair across from his desk. He filled you a glass of whiskey and put it in front of you, then filled his glass as well and went behind his desk to sit down.

“Any word on that traitorous bastard?”

“Ethan?” you said. “Not yet but any day now. We know he’s not in Chicago, a couple of Bucky’s men are already waiting for him at his hometown and…” you trailed off. “It’s honestly just a matter of who will get him first, you or Bucky or Rhett.”

“Do they know not to kill him yet?”

You grinned. “Oh trust me. Both Bucky and Rhett have a lot of…creative ideas.”

“So do I,” your father murmured and you pulled out the flash drive from your pocket.

“Speaking of traitors,” you said, “You might want to know Ian was working with HYDRA.”

Your father stared at you for a couple of seconds in silence. “What?”

“That’s how they got in,” you said. “And that’s why our territory was never attacked and everyone else’s was.”

“Our territory was attacked.”

“Not by HYDRA.”

“We don’t—” he started, then raised his brows, heaving a deep sigh. “You.”

“Well Ian is dead now so it doesn’t really matter,” you said. “But yeah.”

“I asked you and you said no.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I didn’t exactly have leverage yet, nor had I proven myself. I will use the names in the file to track them down, I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else to get involved, especially the other bosses.”

“You thought right,” he said. “Especially the sit down tomorrow…”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” you said, your heart beating in your ears and he pulled his brows together, then scoffed a laugh.

“Sweetheart, obviously I will name you my heir tomorrow.”

You took a sip of the whiskey, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah I figured you’d say that,” you said. “That’s the problem.”

“The problem?”

“I didn’t almost die just so that you can name me your heir,” you said, looking him in the eye. “That’s not how it works. You know how cage fight works, I’ve been through worse. Being named heir is not going to be enough.”

He frowned at you as if he was confused before a look of realization dawned on his face and he leaned back on his seat, his eyes locked in yours.

“Is this a hostile takeover?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Doesn’t have to be hostile.”

A silence fell upon the room while he stared at you, then let out a breath.

“And you think you’re ready?”

“I know I am.”

“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “What would happen if I refused?”

“You can refuse,” you said, your voice completely calm. “But it’s not going to change anything. I have the support from other bosses, I have proven myself and your latest choice of heir fucked over everyone, which could backfire on you. So, I’m sitting at the head of that table tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

An impressed smile curled his lips before he heaved a sigh, then stood up and opened up his arms.

“Come here,” he said, making you frown.

“If you’re planning on stabbing me father—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, come here,” he said and you got up from the armchair, then stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight, then pressed a kiss on your hair and pulled back to look at you better.

“My little girl all grown up to threaten me,” he said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I mean I’d rather not, to be honest with you,” you muttered. “I’m just saying, there’s family and there’s business. I’m threatening the former boss right now, not my father.”

He hummed, still smiling softly.

“You have one thing right, you have proven yourself, over and over again,” he said. “Even before that bastard pulled a gun on you. I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, Y/N. That right there was exactly what I was trying to protect you from.”

“Yeah, protecting me from business,” you said. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t have let him take it from me, dad. One of us was going to end up dead either way.”

That made him clench his jaw. “I didn’t think he’d have the guts to do that to you,” he said. “That will be on my conscience forever.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said. “I mean yeah you fucked up but you know, there’s no one who doesn’t take me seriously in the business after that whole fight. I doubt it’d have the same impact if you handed it to me, so…it’ll work in my favor.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“My father has nothing to worry about,” you told him. “And the former boss is paying for that mistake with me replacing him. Hostile takeover and all that.”

He let out a chuckle, then hugged you again.

“Perhaps I’ll buy another boat,” he said. “I should ask George what he does with all the time he has in retirement.”

A laugh escaped from you and you held up your hands. “Hey, if you want to be a cliché, I can’t stop you,” you said and checked your wristwatch. “I need to go and meet Bucky, we’re having lunch.”

“Alright,” he said. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Of course,” you said and kissed him on the cheek, then walked to the door before turning to look at him. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not making this harder than it should be,” you told him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well,” he said. “You’re the head of the family business now. It’s your rules, the rest will follow your orders. Including the former boss.”

You let a smile curl your lips, then walked out of the office and passed through the hallway to step outside, your heels echoing on the marble floor.  

                                              *

There had been numerous sit downs at this place but this was the first one that you would attend as a boss, so needless to say you were way too impatient.

Ever since you had stepped a foot in your father’s house, you couldn’t stop tapping your foot. The guests were beginning to arrive one by one, and you desperately needed a drink but you knew you had to keep a completely clear head so you couldn’t exactly drink what the rest were drinking.

“Here,” Bucky said, touching the small of your back with one hand while giving you a glass of water with the other.

“Thank you,” you said and he pressed a kiss on your temple, making you frown and pull back. “Nope.”

“What?”

“This is a work meeting,” you told him, nodding at Clint and Natasha by the corner of the living room while Tony talked to your father and Bucky frowned.

“They already know we’re married, Charm.”

“Well we can’t be too lovey-dovey!” you whispered through your teeth and he chuckled.

“Babe, it’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll do great, I promise.”

“Right?” you felt the need to ask and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I love you, you know that right?” you asked and Bucky smirked.

“I love you too,” he said. “And you’re not going to war. It’s your first meeting as a boss, but it is still a meeting.”

You nodded your head, taking a huge sip of your water and turned your head when you heard the familiar chatter. Sarah and Becca walked into the living room, making your jaw drop.

“Hey,” Becca said as soon as she reached you. “Girl talk Buck, beat it.”

“Nice to see you too,” Bucky told her with a roll of his eyes, then turned to Sarah. “Hey.”

“Hi Bucky. Sam and Steve are in the hallway.”

“Great,” he said and walked away from you. You pulled Sarah into a hug, then pulled back to hug Becca.

“Oh my God,” you said. “What are you both doing here?”

“Well it’s your first day on the job,” Becca said. “You know, emotional support.”

“What she said,” Sarah said. “And I figured you’d be nervous, so…”

“I was,” you said with a smile. “Guys, you’re amazing.”

“I even brought a cactus,” Becca said. “Apparently that’s what people get people when they start jobs, who knew?”

“They usually get them flowers, Becca,” Sarah said and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“I haven't worked a day in my life in case you guys forgot,” she said. “Oh and Leila said ‘kick everyone’s ass’.”

“Tell her I said thank you,” you said and took a deep breath. “It’ll go well, right?”

“It’ll go great,” Sarah said, lifting your chin a bit to check your nose from the side. “It is healing nicely. The stitches too.”

“Thanks to my awesome doctor,” you said with a smile and Becca looked around.

“Your bitch of an aunt isn’t here then?”

“Nope,” you said. “She left earlier.”

“Without making a scene?” Sarah asked, disbelief apparent in her tone and you shook your head.

“Of course not,” you said. “She…she told me something.”

“What?”

“That she hopes Bucky and I have a son,” you said. “So that she can take him away from me, the same way I took Ian away from her.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and Becca raised a brow.

“Oh please,” she said. “She does know that when Bucky and you have a child, that child will be like, the most protected heir in the entire world, right?”

“I guess,” you said and Sarah frowned.

“You can’t let that get to you,” she said and you shook your head again.

“I’m not,” you said. “That’s not it.”

Becca pulled back slightly, then eyed the water glass in your hand.

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“No!” you said. “No, I’m just not drinking because I’m trying to keep my head clear, it’s my first meeting with everyone else as a boss—no, I’m just worried I guess.”

“I agree with Becca,” Sarah said. “First of all, that child will be the most protected heir in the city, with your people and Bucky’s people. Second of all, who’s going to take your aunt seriously?”

“No one,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m just worried.”

“Don’t be—” Sarah started but you heard Ryan’s voice by the door.

“The meeting room is ready,” he said and everyone walked out of the living room one by one. Your father gave you a soft smile and you smiled at him back, then turned to Sarah and Becca.

“Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” Sarah said and Becca squeezed your hand.

“You were born for this,” she told you. “Go get ‘em tiger.”

You let out a breath, then made your way out of the living room to the meeting room before you stepped inside, your heart beating in your ears. Bucky was walking to his own seat and you brushed your hand against his as subtly as you could while you walked past him. He winked at you before sitting down as well, making you bite back a smile.

You got this.

Becca was right. You were born for this.

You took your seat at the head of the table, Ryan approaching to place a file in front of you and you cleared your throat, then lifted your head to look at everyone around the table.

“So,” you said, your voice completely calm. “Shall we begin?”

The End.

[machine-saint]

the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong

why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).

anyway the tl;dr here is:

you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates

i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.

this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.

as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.

there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.

the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.

there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.

temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about

programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.

'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.

your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.

[clareguilty]

Ghost/Soap/Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink

This fic was written for Kinktober 2024! Let me know what you think <3

Ghost/Soap/F!Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink, strength kink, dacryphilia Rating: Explicit | WARNINGS: EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT Word Count: ~3400

The last thing you expected when you answered the knock on your office door was the sight of two uniformed soldiers, both broad enough to fill the entire doorway each, expressions grave. You ushered them inside your small, cluttered office tucked away in the biochemistry wing of the university building. Being the head of the pharmacology department did not come with a sprawling mahogany desk and glorious window views. You were lucky to have a desk and a window at all.

Still, you were the best in your field, and that had granted you tenure and funding to continue your research as well as a small team of graduate students and postdocs to boss around as you pleased.

One of the soldiers introduced himself as Captain Price, the other a corporal under his command. You cleared off space on your desk as the corporal opened a locked case and pulled out a laptop.

“Anything you are about to see is highly classified information,” the captain warned you. “Our intel pertains to ongoing operations to stop a dangerous organized terrorist group.”

You nodded along, but your focus was on the footage being played on the laptop. The drone shots and shaky handheld cameras, clips of lab workers handling samples while suited head to toe in protective equipment. There was footage of soldiers experiencing a variety of symptoms: aggression, paralysis, psychosis.

The corporal opened a file for you to scroll through. Pages and pages of reports.

“Biochemical weapons,” you murmured to yourself. “Inhalants?”

“Gas,” the captain confirmed. “Your security clearance is still in the system from your field work on that operation in Andorra. Our people are using your research as the blueprint.”

You were the leading expert on biochemical weaponry, much of your research was centered around synthesizing field antidotes. It had been a few years since you were last out in the field, taking samples from warzones and the sites of attacks.

“You need me out there?” You asked. But you already knew the answer. They wouldn’t be here in your office otherwise.

“You’ll be working with our top tactical operations team. The best men we’ve got. Whatever they’re making in these labs, we need to put a stop to it, and then we need to figure out how they’re doing it.”

You looked at the footage again - civilians this time - and felt your stomach turn at the sight.

“When’s the earliest we can leave?” You asked, closing the laptop to hide the horrifying images.

-

The body armor on your last field operation had been simple: a bullet proof vest with a mask and helmet. You had worn your civilian clothes and brought along everything else yourself.

“Alright, Dove, arms up,” the special forces sergeant, Soap, grinned as he dropped a heavy vest over your head. You dutifully raised your arms so he could fasten the tangle of buckles until you were secured.

“Thanks,” you glanced down at the overwhelming amount of gear that was now covering your front.

“You’ve got your radio,” he tapped the top left pocket, “Compass, shears, three mags of extra ammunition, scopes, batteries, and torch.” You watched him point out each item. “On your belt here you’ve got your pistol, knife, and canteen.”

Soap put his own gear on much faster than it had taken to kit you out. He carried even more equipment, but he somehow made it look easier.

You had been staying at the temporary base with Captain Price’s 141 task force for days now. Without access to quality lab equipment, you were working tirelessly to find answers about the biochemical weaponry using whatever was available. As impressive as your makeshift setup was, it wasn’t near precise or thorough enough to save lives.

It felt a little ridiculous. A researcher surrounded by a bunch of special forces giants. They were welcoming and friendly - except for the terrifying lieutenant with the skull mask, but you knew you were out of your depth surrounded by cases full of rifles and grenades. Sleeping on a cot and eating rations cooked off a gas burner.

Captain Price had done whatever he could to make you more comfortable. The encampment was a few secured buildings and several large tents. And while you were accustomed to the conditions after your previous field research, they had afforded you as much privacy as possible. 

Underneath the teasing and jokes, Soap was kind and friendly. He’d nicknamed you their ‘peace dove’ on the first day, and you hadn’t been able to shake the moniker since.

Even Lieutenant Ghost had been considerate as you tried to keep up with the heavy military jargon and unfamiliar protocols. He slipped you candy bars that were definitely against regulations and sat with you after the countless briefings to explain all of the commands that had flown over your head rapid-fire. He was still scary.

The last military squadron you had worked alongside had mostly ignored you, frustrated with your inexperience and occasionally downright cruel. They hadn’t respected your expertise or your research despite your attempts to explain how vital it was to their safety.

There was none of that here.

After several days of monitoring intel and surveillance, Price had finally made the call to infiltrate the terrorist labs. The only way to stop these weapons would be to secure the materials themselves.

Soap and Ghost were assigned to clear out any hostiles, and your mission was to gather anything in the labs that would help to stop production of the weapons and synthesize antidotes.

It was difficult to keep up with them as they closed in on the lab. You had been instructed to hang back a ways while they engaged, but even then you were struggling to match their pace.

You had never known anyone who could make an assault rifle look small until these men. Like they were holding a toy. Despite their size, both the sergeant and the lieutenant were exceptionally fast even with all their gear.

As you approached the location of the terrorists’ labs, Ghost signaled for all of you to halt. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you into a crouch inside a copse of brush where you would be able to keep cover.

“Stay here. We’ll engage the hostiles and bring you in as soon as the site is secure,” he ordered.

Both he and Soap immediately made to move in, but you managed to catch Soap by the hand. “Be careful,” you warned. “We have no clue what kind of shit they’re cooking up in there.”

“Don’t worry, Dove. We’ll do just fine,” Soap promised with a grin.

And then they were gone.

The silence that filled in after their retreating boot steps was excruciating. The sharp cracks of gunfire that rang out in short bursts were somehow even worse. You couldn’t radio in without risking the operation - the noise could give away their position - so you were left waiting until Ghost signaled the all clear. As the minutes dragged on since the last round of shots, you prayed you wouldn’t have to fall back on your contingency extraction: if you didn’t hear from either Soap or Ghost after two hours, you were to make your way to a designated pickup spot.

Your radio crackled.

“You there, Dovie?” Soap’s voice came through. He sounded uninjured.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” That was Ghost this time. “We’ve eliminated all hostiles. Give us ten more minutes to secure the site, and then I’ll send Soap to come get you.”

“Copy that.” An unbelievable amount of tension seemed to melt out of you at that, and you let out a heavy sigh.

Not even a minute later you heard a distant bang. Not gunfire. A small explosion.

“Lieutenant?” You immediately called over the radio. “What was that?”

“Fucking hell!” Soap shouted. “The lab was rigged!”

“Lieutenant?” You were already pushing to your feet, rushing out of the safety of your cover and towards the labs.

“We tripped something,” Ghost finally responded. “They had canisters set to burst if the lab was tampered with.”

“You mean you got dosed?” Your fingers were numb with fear as you fumbled with your radio. “Are you experiencing any symptoms? I’m on my way now!”

The radio was silent for a few moments, but you were sprinting as fast as you could toward the site. If you could get there quick enough, maybe you could find an antidote somewhere in the labs. They wouldn’t know what to look for, but if you could find out what was in those canisters, surely you could fix this.

“Wait, Dovie,” Soap’s voice was rough, breathy. “Stay where you are. Don’t come near here.”

“I’m the only chance you have at finding an antidote,” you shouted into the radio.

“Hold your position. Do not approach. That is an order,” Ghost snarled, but you were already at the entrance, flying through the path of carnage Soap and Ghost had left. The satellite images in the briefing had given you a rough idea of where you needed to go, and the trail of bodies confirmed you were on the right track.

As you came up on the entrance to the labs, someone tackled you into the wall, pinning you in place. You screamed, but a gloved hand covered your mouth.

“It’s just me,” Soap assured you. “But you shouldn’t have run in here without your weapon drawn. Shouldn’t have come in here at all.” He pulled his hand away so you could gulp down a breath.

“Whatever you were hit with, they might have an antidote. If I can get to it before it’s too late-“

Soap cut you off. “You’re worse than me at following orders.”

”Let me go.” You tried to squirm out of his hold.

Soap made a choked off sound in your ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s the gas. I swear. We didn’t know the lab was rigged.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Jesus, Dove, you have to forgive me. Promise? I can’t fight it.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll be okay. Just let me go, Soap.”

He was pinning you in place with his entire body weight, panting against the back of your neck as he easily kept you still despite your attempts to break free.

Thankfully, you heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. That had to be Ghost.

He rounded the corner and you cried out. “Lieutenant! Please, sir!”

Ghost snarled when he saw you trapped beneath Soap. He crossed the room in three easy strides and ripped the sergeant off of you. Soap hit the floor with a groan, and you tried to back away.

Except the Ghost was closing in on you, knife drawn. He cornered you easily, and the fear had you freezing in place. You weren't a trained soldier. You weren't equipped to handle these kinds of situations.

You flinched as Ghost grabbed for you, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the worst, but there wasn't any pain - just the sound of tearing fabric and the sensation of your body armor falling away to a heap on the floor.

“Gotta get these off you,” he growled, crowding even closer against you. His voice wasn’t nearly as rough or as breathless as Soap’s. When you finally worked up the courage to open your eyes, Ghost was leant over you with his face in your neck taking deep inhales. Was he… smelling you?

They’d both been dosed. You had never seen symptoms like these before, but it wasn’t a typical toxin. Surely you could find an antidote if they just let you go.

And then Soap was back, pawing at the space between your bodies. “Please, Ghost,” he was begging, “feels like I’m about to die. Fuck. Need it so bad.”

Ghost pulled away from your neck, reached out to grab Soap by the jaw, holding him still. There was a moment of quiet save for both yours and Soap’s panicked breathing. “Alright, Johnny.” He finally assented. “You gotta go easy, you hear? Don’t wanna break her.”

You didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but struggling was absolutely useless when Ghost was holding a knife. You knew what he was capable of.

It was too quick for you to even register. Soap was fast. He snatched the knife from Ghost and cut your clothes away, taking you down to the ground with some sort of wrestling maneuver you were never going to escape from.

“I’m so sorry, Dove,” Soap was apologizing again. “Can’t fucking help it.”

He shoved his own gloves and gear away, fumbling to open his trousers before freeing his cock. He was achingly hard, and dripping. He was also fucking huge. His eyes fluttered shut in relief as he wrapped his hands around the length and gave a few lazy strokes, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that would be all it took.

“Please,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Don’t fuss,” Soap placed a finger over your lips to quiet you, then he shoved it inside your mouth. You weren’t sure if biting him would end well for you. He grabbed your legs by the knees, raising your hips until your pussy was on display for him. “That’s a good girl.” He spit on his fingertips and began rubbing at your entrance, as if that would be enough lube.

He pressed two fingers inside of you, but you were so terrified that it didn’t feel right at all. It hurt. You screamed, and suddenly Ghost was there.

“This is the only way to help,” he said, and you noticed he had a silver canister in his hands. “I promise this will make it easier.”

You didn’t have enough time to react before he crushed the canister with just his gloved hands. A deafening hiss drowned out the sounds of your own sobs and your vision went white as the contents of the canister filled the air. You couldn’t hold your breath at all, not when you were sobbing with gasps of pain. The gas settled over your skin, inside your mouth and nose. You instinctively swiped your tongue against your teeth and cheeks. It tasted powdery and sour.

“Give her a second, Johnny,” Ghost ordered.

You were almost glad they had cut your clothes away because your skin was suddenly too warm. Too clammy. Your mouth went from bitter and dry to watering with saliva in a matter of seconds. Every sensation felt sharper, and the pain disappeared. Soap was just as warm where you were pressed against him, and his fingers inside you were now drenched in slick wetness.

How were they even able to think like this? They’d been dealing with these symptoms for longer than you and somehow still had control of themselves. You had been exposed to the gas for less than a minute and all rational thought had left you.

“That’s a good girl,” Ghost’s voice reached you through the drunken haze and you whined. “Spread yourself nice and open on Johnny’s fingers.”

Oh. You were fucking your hips against Soaps’ hand. He was watching the sight with his pupils blown wide as he pressed a third finger inside of you. The stretch felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you begged. “More. Please.”

Soap curled his fingers inside you and you cried out. He held your hips still with his free hand so he could fuck you harder on his fingers. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he had you gushing over his wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Gonna fuck you now.” He settled between your thighs. All you could do was beg because his finger hadn’t been enough. “Gonna breed you full, alright, Dove?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you panted.

You would never have been able to take his cock if Ghost hadn’t dosed you with the gas. Even after the rough fingerfucking you still cried out at the stretch. But it didn’t hurt this time. You loved the way he filled you, the sensation of him sinking deeper inside.

He was too impatient at this point. Had been holding himself back for too long. The moment his cock bottomed out inside you it was like his final thread of control snapped. You were long past him, having never once stood a chance after Ghost crushed that canister.

“Jesus, Dove, you’re so tight. Feel so good on my cock,” Soap was panting against your skin as he fucked you. You were much less coherent beneath him, just a stream of sobbing and begging. You understood what Soap had said earlier: you felt like you were going to die if they didn’t fuck you. If they didn’t ruin you on their cocks. 

“I’m already close.”

You were surprised Soap had lasted this long, considering how quickly you had come on his fingers. It was definitely the toxins in your system, but you needed him to claim you. Needed to be bred full. You must have begged for it, because Soap was soothing you as he picked up the pace.

“You’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Just take it like a good girl, right Dovie?”

He forced his cock as deep as he could when he came, rocking against your hips to make sure it would take. You could feel it, so hot and sticky inside you, dripping out around his cock as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before a huge shadow filled your vision. Ghost. He shoved Soap aside, taking in the sight of you beneath him.

“Johnny made a mess of you didn’t he?” A gloved hand trailed over your tear stained cheeks, through the string of drool hanging from your lips. He forced your thighs apart to see Soap’s come dripping out of your used pussy. “Look at you, pretty girl,” he teased.

“Please,” you whined. The strange panic was taking hold of you again. You were scared what would happen if Ghost didn’t fuck you. “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Ghost swore under his breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to fight it off. Poor thing.”

He tossed his gloves aside, running warm, calloused hands over your sticky, sweaty skin. “I’m bigger than Johnny,” he warned. “But something tells me you’ll like that.”

All you could do was beg. How did Ghost have so much control? It was almost like he wasn’t affected at all.

He took mercy on you, dragging his cock against your pussy to slick the length of it before pressing inside. He was slower than Soap, more careful. And even under the effects of the gas, you needed it. Fuck. He was huge.

“You’re fucking noisy,” Ghost grumbled. And then there were two fingers pushing past your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digits to chase the salt and the sweat, and the relative quiet seemed to appease the lieutenant as he finally bottomed out inside you.

You had never been so full in your life, split open on the lieutenant’s cock like this. He groaned beneath the mask as he fucked you, rhythm faltering as you squeezed tight around his cock.

Even with his fingers in your mouth, you must have picked up your whining again because he leaned in to shush you. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up again. Breed you just like you need. We won’t let you go until you’re full of us.”

It should have sounded threatening, but all you could focus on was the promise that they would take care of you. That they would leave you dripping with their come.

The initial rush of the toxins had given way to a sort of timeless haze. You couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of Ghost fucking you and his fingers in your mouth. It could have been hours. You just needed to be full.

“Here it comes, Little Dove,” Ghost warned you. “Better take every last drop.”

He pulled you so far onto his cock that a glance of pain managed to reach you in the haze, but it only left you craving more. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he came, filling you even more than Soap had.

“Such a good girl.” He only pulled out after he was sure he had fucked his come into you as deep as possible. And when a few drops began to spill out, he swiped them up with the fingers he had just pulled from your mouth and forced them back inside your pussy again.

“Hey, LT,” Soap grinned where he was slowly stroking his cock. “Does this mean it’s my turn again?”

[strawburry01]

Northern Attitude

Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.

Word Count: 3k

No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.

Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...

It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.

You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town. 

Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.

You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office. 

You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.

“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.

“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.

You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.

“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.

You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it. 

It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping. 

As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.

“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.

“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side. 

It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.

“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious. 

“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner. 

When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years-  expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.

“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth. 

“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.

“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.

“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-

your-

university-

situationship- 

showing up again in your life. 

Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face. 

“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life. 

Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak. 

You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object. 

The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.

“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen. 

“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.

“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent. 

“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.

“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.

But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone. 

“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.

“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.

“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned. 

Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.

A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar. 

“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.

“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.

“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves. 

“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange. 

“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”. 

“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.

“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again. 

“You know you could have that’s all,”. 

“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.

“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.

“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.

“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.

A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: Your laptop needs repair and you're at risk of embarrassing yourself and the company in front of some very big investors.

Warnings: Crying, Ransom kinda being an ass. Let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 2

As you're counting down the seconds until your presentation with no file, wondering how you're going to wing this, your temporary laptop dings with an email notification. Taking a look you see it's from Ransom, with an attachment. The message simply says, "found the file. Still working on the laptop." You quickly slap your hands over mouth to stifle the happy screams. That doesn't stop you from bouncing in your seat with tears of relief starting to form.

When you're able to calm down enough you open the attachment and confirm that it's the file you need for your meeting in...you check your watch, 10 MINUTES!!

You type out the quickest, but most meaningful "thank you" response to Ransom before packing up the laptop and running to the meeting room. You need to get set up and review your notes quickly!

Ransom feels relieved when he gets the message that the file was correct, maybe you'll be a little less excitable next time he sees you. If he sees you again. He's hoping to get your laptop fixed up and drop it off at your desk when you're not there. Then he won't have to deal with your emotions again.

To say he's never been comfortable around tears would be an understatement. All his life his parents taught him that tears were either for the weak or for purposes of manipulation. That he wasn't crying because he was hurt or frustrated, but because he was trying to guilt them into giving him attention. He's made progress since he went "no contact" with them but it's still difficult for him to be around emotional people. And god you were so emotional!

And cute. Cutesy! Ransom chides himself. Not cute, just cutesy.

Your cubicle was something else. He'd visited some that had a stuffed animal or a figurine or two, but your desk was practically covered in the damn things. At least it was a good sign your emotions weren't an act. He takes a quick look around his own cubicle, thinking about what it says about him. It's empty of pretty much all personal effects. The only thing he keeps in there is a picture of the beemer he had to sell to get away from his family. What does it say about him that the only personal effects he had was a reminder of what he lost?

Ransom shakes his head. He needs to focus on fixing this laptop. He can't afford to keep thinking about you.

The presentation seems to go well. CEO Levinson asked a lot of good questions that showed he was paying attention and you really felt that you answered them well. He even shook your hand afterwards before going off to talk with the managers and continue negotiations with the clients. Your supervisor even made sure to give you that nod that told you all was well. You were beaming!

As soon as you were out of the conference room, however, you focused on getting yourself to your cubicle. It's been such a hectic day that you just really need to grab one of your plushies and squeeze it tight to help you decompress.

When you enter your cubicle you see your old laptop, all plugged in! You open it up and confirm everything is working, looking good, and still has all of your personalization. There's an email asking you to confirm that the ticket was good to be closed. You were bouncing in your seat as you confirmed. Grabbing the temporary laptop you practically skip to the IT section to return it.

Ransom is walking out, empty coffee mug in hand, as you're walking in.

"Ransom!" you squeal as you bounce on your toes. "Thank you so much! Can I please hug you? Please?" You give him your best puppy dog eyes.

Ransom blinks a few times, "I'm not a hugger. And I need some coffee."

"Oh, okay," you nod. Not everyone likes hugs and you respect that. "I hope you enjoy the coffee! You deserve the best!"

He seems caught off guard by your comment. "Um...thank you," he mumbles before walking past you.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 2

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

[mondaysamiright]

Falling Into You (Part 2)

Pairing: Emilia Clarke x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Emilia find themselves on the pages of the Daily Mail

Word Count: 2k+

Part 1 Here

The morning light crept through the thin curtains of Y/N’s new flat, illuminating the scattered boxes and half-unpacked luggage that still littered the living room. It had only been a couple of weeks since she’d moved to the UK from Colorado, and despite her best intentions, she hadn’t quite found the time or energy to finish unpacking. The flat was a charming, if modest, space with creaky wooden floors and large windows that let in the autumn sunlight, but it still felt more like a temporary stopover than home.

Y/N padded around the kitchen in her worn slippers, her movements leisurely and unhurried. The kettle bubbled away on the stove, steam rising as she waited for the water to boil. She glanced around at the cluttered countertops, mentally adding ‘organize kitchen’ to the ever-growing list of things she needed to do. But not today. Today was going to be a lazy Saturday.

The whistle of the kettle broke her train of thought, and she poured the boiling water over a coffee filter, the rich scent of the brew filling the small kitchen. She sighed contentedly, the familiar smell a comforting reminder of home. Her favorite mug—a chipped one from a café in the Rockies—sat waiting on the counter. She filled it to the brim, taking a cautious sip before making her way to the kitchen table.

She pushed aside a pile of unopened mail and travel brochures, finding a small space to set down her coffee. Her laptop sat closed in front of her, an open invitation to start her day with the mindless scroll of social media or catching up on emails, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, cradling the warm mug between her hands as she soaked in the quiet stillness of the morning.

Just as she was starting to enjoy the peacefulness, her phone buzzed, vibrating its way across the cluttered table. She glanced at the screen and saw her coworker's name, Sara, flashing. With a bemused smile, she picked up the call.

“Hey, Sara. What’s up?” she greeted, her voice still thick with sleep. 

Sara’s voice crackled through the speaker, rapid and almost breathless with excitement. “Oh my God, Y/N! Did you see it? Tell me you’ve seen it! I just sent it to you!”

Y/N blinked, bewildered, her still sleepy mind struggling to catch up. “Uh, seen what?”

“Check your texts!” Sara insisted, her voice buzzing with so much energy that Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” she muttered, pulling the phone away from her ear and opening the text message thread. A new message from Sara blinked at the top of the screen. She tapped on it, her thumb hovering over the image file for a moment before she clicked it.

Her eyes widened as the Daily Mail article loaded. It was a bright, glossy picture of her and Emilia Clarke from the other day. They were walking through the park, Emilia mid-laugh, her hand brushing against Y/N’s arm as they stood outside the café. The headline blared across the screen in bold letters:

"Emilia Clarke Enjoys a Cool Fall Day with a Mysterious Woman!"

Y/N nearly spat out her coffee, coughing as she read the caption below the photo. “‘The Game of Thrones star was seen enjoying a casual day out with an unidentified brunette, sparking rumors of a new romance...’” Her eyes widened, and she could almost hear Sara's barely-contained glee on the other end of the line.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N muttered to herself, scrolling down the article. There were more pictures—one of her laughing at something Emilia had said, another of them at the café, their heads close together in conversation. Each image was accompanied by captions that only seemed to add fuel to the fire. “Who writes this stuff?”

Sara’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “So? Spill! Are you secretly dating Emilia Clarke, and you just forgot to tell me? Because that’s something you don’t forget to mention, Y/N!”

Y/N rubbed a hand over her face, feeling a mix of amusement and disbelief. “No, Sara, I’m not dating Emilia Clarke,” she said, shaking her head as she continued scrolling. “‘The pair appeared at ease as they strolled through the park, sparking rumors of a potential new love interest.’ Really?”

Sara giggled on the other end of the line. “I mean, they’re not wrong. You two looked super cute together. Who knew you’d have such an eventful first month in the UK?”

Y/N let out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, because this is exactly what I pictured—moving to a new country, getting mistaken for a celebrity’s new girlfriend in the tabloids. Totally normal.”   

They both laughed, the absurdity of the situation lightening the initial shock. Y/N glanced around her still-chaotic flat, the unpacked boxes and scattered belongings serving as a stark contrast to the glamorous life the article seemed to suggest she was part of.

Y/N shook her head, returning her attention back to the article. “‘The pair appeared to be quite cozy as they strolled through the park, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Could this be the beginning of a new celebrity romance?’” she read aloud, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Unbelievable.”

“Cozy, huh?” Sara teased, giggling. “You know, this could be your big break into the world of tabloid fame!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a laugh of her own. “Oh, great. Just what I need. My fifteen minutes of fame as Emilia Clarke’s mystery woman.”

Y/N glanced back at the article, a strange mix of amusement and disbelief washing over her. The way the article painted the day as some kind of romantic rendezvous was almost comical, if not for the fact that it was now out there for the world to see.

“Well, I have to go, but we’re not done talking about this!” Sara warned, still giggling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

Y/N set her phone down and leaned back in her chair, chuckling to herself. “Emilia Clarke’s mystery woman,” she muttered with a shake of her head. The idea was so absurd it was almost laughable. She glanced around her cluttered flat, her eyes landing on an open box filled with books she still hadn’t unpacked.

“Well, if I’m going to be famous, I guess I should at least finish unpacking,” she said to no one in particular. With a grin, she pushed herself up from the table and set to work. After all, it wasn’t every day you got mistaken for a celebrity’s love interest in the tabloids. She might as well enjoy it.

Emilia’s POV

The late morning sun was warm on Emilia’s skin as she settled into a wicker chair in her garden, cradling a mug of steaming tea between her hands. It was a rare, quiet Saturday morning, and she intended to savor it. The garden was her sanctuary, a little pocket of green amidst the bustling city, filled with blooming flowers and the soft hum of bees. She took a sip of her tea, the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves as she let herself relax into the tranquility of the moment.

Her phone, resting on the small table beside her, buzzed with a notification. She ignored it at first, not wanting to interrupt the peaceful silence, but curiosity got the better of her. She reached for the device, glancing at the screen. It was a message from her publicist, Jackie.

Jackie: What do I need to know about this?

Emilia frowned, confusion furrowing her brow as she opened the attachment. Her eyes widened as the Daily Mail article loaded, the headline jumping out at her in bold letters:

“Emilia Clarke Enjoys a Cool Fall Day with a Mysterious Woman!”

A groan escaped her lips, loud enough to disturb a few birds perched in the nearby tree. “Oh, for the love of—” she muttered, scrolling through the article. There were pictures of her and Y/N from the other day, walking through Hampstead Heath, laughing at the café. The captions were all suggestive, spinning a narrative that was completely out of line with what had actually happened.

She rubbed her forehead, her mind racing. How had the paparazzi even found her? It had been such an ordinary day, and she hadn’t noticed anyone following them. Her eyes skimmed the article again, noting how it made Y/N out to be her new love interest, emphasizing their supposed chemistry and the cozy atmosphere between them.

Before she could fully process her irritation, her phone rang, Jackie’s name flashing on the screen. Emilia sighed and answered, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Good morning, Jackie,” she greeted, trying to keep her tone light despite the frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

“Morning? More like afternoon at this rate,” Jackie quipped, but her tone quickly turned serious. “Emilia, what’s going on? Are you dating this woman or not? Because, from these photos, it certainly looks like there’s something going on.”

Emilia closed her eyes, the absurdity of it all almost making her laugh. “No, Jackie, I’m not dating her. I literally just met her the other day. I tripped over her in the park, we had tea, and that was it.”

“Mhm,” Jackie’s voice was skeptical, but playful. “Because that’s how everyone looks at a stranger they just met. I mean, look at these pictures. You two look awfully cozy together.”

Emilia bit back a retort, her gaze shifting to the garden around her, the flowers swaying gently in the breeze. “We were just talking. She seemed nice, and we had a good conversation, but that’s it. I feel terrible for her—now she’s got her face plastered all over the tabloids because she happened to have tea with me.”

Jackie’s sigh was audible over the line. “You know this happens. You’re Emilia Clarke, for crying out loud. Every time you step outside, people notice. Whether you like it or not, that’s just how it is.”

“I know,” Emilia muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “But it’s not fair to her. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Maybe not,” Jackie conceded, her tone softening a bit. “But you can’t control what the paparazzi do. You know that. It’s part of the deal, unfortunately.”

Emilia was silent for a moment, staring down at the half-empty mug of tea in her hand. She’d been through this a hundred times before, but it never got any easier. And now this poor woman, who had probably just been trying to enjoy her day, was being dragged into the spotlight because of a random encounter.

“What can I do, Jackie?” Emilia asked quietly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I want to apologize to her, at least.”

Jackie was silent for a moment, considering. “I can try to find out where she works, or maybe get her contact information somehow. But you know how tricky this can get. We don’t want to overstep.”

“I know,” Emilia sighed. “But I just… I feel like I should do something. This is all so ridiculous, and now she’s caught up in it because of me.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jackie said, her voice gentler now. “But try not to worry too much, okay? These things blow over. People will be onto the next story before you know it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Emilia murmured, though she didn’t feel much relief. She thanked Jackie and hung up, setting her phone down on the table with a frustrated sigh. The garden felt less serene now, the peaceful morning soured by the thought of Y/N being dragged into her chaotic world without warning.

She leaned back in her chair, staring up at the sky. It was such a small, silly thing—just a chance meeting and a bit of conversation��but it had spiraled out of control so quickly. And now Y/N, who seemed so kind and genuine, was probably dealing with the fallout.

Emilia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and let the cool air wash over her. She’d find a way to make this right, or at least to apologize. Somehow. But for now, all she could do was sit there, sipping her now-cold tea, and wonder how one simple day in the park had turned into this.

[horreurscopes]

snooping in the temporary files of this tiny 2008 laptop i got on mercari for $25 i found the blog(s) of the guy who used to own it 🥺 he is a japanese tv producer and a horse race commentator and he was in manhattan in 2012 and took this beautiful picture

(translated by google)

i don't know what to do with this information only that this guy and i have connected through time and space and i love him in this strange little way

and also remember to fucking factory reset your electronics to hell when you get rid of them

[starythewriter]

THOR X reader - first time I saw you



I opened the door to razer & gold data, entering

The bright white building grabbing onto a sliver handle and opening the door I walked through seeing captain America… I quickly got pulled side by Natasha, “here I need you to look thru this file… there seeks to be a comprise in our data records…. The DA seems to have tempered with them”

“Alright I’ll get on it” I said smiling and sitting next to her, she got up to take care of some errands, I quickly opened the flies reviewing everything.

I noticed how much days got reacted. Seems like it was all in preparation for some sort of lawsuit or court case.

I quickly got out my laptop and decided to wire a detailed report, “here I need you to talk to Jessica jones… we had our teamwork but as time went on she…. Started to work under the DA.”

I quickly walked over to a telephone, bumping into captain america, “I’m sorry sorry sir-“

“It’s alright. Dont worry here for your trouble” he said handing me a 20 dollar bill. I took it and smiled saying “thank you so much”

I walked forward. Seeing Thor… the infamous Thor I’ve always dreamed of seeing him he had a short sleeve shirt his biceps were bulging out.

I focused on Jessica, dialing her number…. I waited and waited untill she didn’t respond. I walked back to my desk quickly finding contacts but out of nowhere the telephone rang, I walked back over, feeling annoyed that our current telephones were down… only a couple worked now.

“Hey is this Jessica”

“Yes this is. And I already know who’s calling we have a lot of business to discuss but for now. I’m sending you a transcript along with files for a lawsuit”

“Wait wha”

She hung up before I could say anything I decided to walk back over seeing Thor… I turned around but Natasha was gone.

“Hey… i need to speak with you”

Said Thor. He looked at me very sternly I gulped and sat down near his desk. “What do you wish to speak about”

“Jessica. Why are you trying to contact her”

“I wasn’t” I said keeping eye contact. But Thor was persistent I didn’t know how but he very much knew what was going on.

I was too focused on the situation at hand however I had intrusive thoughts here and there about how hot he was.

“I know you were”

“How” I said shocked. Out of nowhere Natasha appeared “we need to talk” she said to me. I quickly got up and left walking with her to her office seeing a deal… “what’s this?”

I said asking confused reading through the prospal. “It’s a bribe the former company, who for awhile was co founded and owned with owners wants to buy us out-and their saying they’ll reinvent our server system to hold and keep data safe. However it’s a bribe and definitely not something that can be trusted look at paragraph 12C discussing the limit of funds and money meaning we would be tied to there restrictions especially money wise”

“Well then don’t accept it”

“I won’t but we need to tread carefully. DONT tell Thor untill further notice I need to find out the consequences.”

“Alright. Also I have intel I’ve had that they are very close with the governer and considering the company got framed for fraud, they can freeze back all of our bank accounts along with data. You know that they can also request data”

“That may be true. But I’ve got this under control. As for the data,I will be changing models into something that makes the data temporary and I’m doing with the DA along with CISA. To formulate a strong data rework along with protections against any crimes Or misdemeanors they can throw at us”

“Alright. I’ll gather more intent. I’ll make sure to see what I can find for orders as if they are going to request all days then it must be thru the DA, FBI and authorities.”

“Hey. Was that about Jessica and the old company”

“It’s none of your business Mr.hemsworth.”

I walked away shutting the door to my office. But Thor came in, “I need to know” “why” I asked rolling my eyes. I felt a little warm… but I didn’t mind it. “Stop acting like a baby. I need to know because I have some files on how to avoid any backlash including the freeze of our bank accounts and primary drafts into our manufactured convictions.”

“Fine. Here I have this file I’ve been keeping the most important information.”

“Thank you” he smiled “and no need to pout” he said teasing me. I walked up to him accidentally pressing against his crotch… “sorry-“ I said he stared into my soul. “It’s not a big deal” he laughed it off. We laughed together, he was so handsome… “come with me” he said. Leading me to one of the backrooms. “WOW so many dresses” I said happily “oh these would look good on you” I said being flirty. I knew I had feeling for him. “So tel me a bit about yourself Thor” “well I’m a businessman… looking for adventure. & despite what others say I’m great in court. I have a lot of law firms along with great hires and teams to maintain the private data that the US citizens deserve”

I smirked loving his deep and smart mind “wow… that’s umm… hot” I said gulping. “Wait here” he said I waited meanwhile imaging how he’d look in that outfit and out of nowhere he was wearing a very sexy summer shirt with shorts… I stared seeing all of his beautiful muscles and features. I tried to hide my blushing “we should get back to work”

“Are you sure” he said grasping my hand before I could leave as he stared into my eyes kissing me as his eyes closed I got onto the black sofa behind me and slowly enjoyed his kisses along with with moans. I slowly kissed his biceps as I unbuttoned his shirt.

I was already so beyond in love with this man nothing else mattered. I was ready to devour him. God knows I would. I kissed him again making him moan my name.

He slowly kissed me not forcing me into anything I felt so safe with him I slowly decided to take off my suit and undress. He kissed my tits making me moan loudly. “Don’t be so rough” I teased slowly taking his shirts off and immediately grinding against his cock “you can’t enter yet” i moaned out feeling too overwhelmed by his giant muscles to care about what happened at this point”

“He moaned “please… just do it already” I moaned allowing him in I rose up slowly riding his cock. “No more unless you swear something to me”

“Anything” he said smirking “are you sure” I said riding his cock slowly “yes- yes for sure anything”

“Give me 50% of the company” I said staring into his soul seducing every blood cell he had and already making him produce cum “now you know I can’t” he couldn’t speak as I went faster “fine then leave me alone” I said getting up but he grabbed “ fine here I’ll get you the papers”

“Good” I said smiling kissing him as I rode his cock while he handed me the papers I went faster as I rode his giant cock and thick muscles signing onto my fair share and with that I seduced my powerful boss and slowly become a owner of his company “Iove you so much” I said riding him faster kissing him as he kissed me and submitted to my will “your so fucking good-“

“Do you fuck every new person at the office?” I asked stopping myself depriving him of any and all sexual contact. “No- I promise you you’re the only one-“ “that better be dam right” “so bold of you to do this to not only your boss but a god.”

He smirked fucking me as I ride him “one that easily falls for any pretty girl”

“Not true. You’re the first…”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“The first one entirely love and cannot get enough of” he muffled. I moaned slowly

Climaxing onto his cock as he coated me with all the cum he had.

“Fuck-“

“Thank you.” I moaned grabbing the papers and walking out while leaving my cum on his bicep, I cleaned up and left. Knowing that he was unsatisfied but I wasn’t ready for him truly. However next time I’d stick with him a lot

Longer.

The end

[panelshowsource]

I just want to say I am really grateful for your links. I'm homeless right now and living in a shelter, and I have access to a public computer but don't have a laptop to save files on. People share temporary links that I can't save, so when they disappear I have to rely on Youtube. I know that most TV shows can't stay up on Youtube so what I was watching was really limited until I found your Tumblr. Now I can watch your links on my phone anytime and it's incredible. So thank you so so much

anon... that is incredibly nice to hear. all anyone who shares tv content wants is for people to enjoy it. still, not everyone is comfortable hosting a public googledrive like mine because it will ultimately be discovered and taken down, whether that's tomorrow or years from now; it almost certainly will happen. i've just always known people who can't torrent or can't pay for storage or don't have personal computers, and i want to do my part to help make things accessible — so thank you for letting me know that is the case for you. hope the content helps brighten many of your days as it does mine, and of course send requests any time (i just bought up more storage space and have plenty to share) x

best of luck 💜

[theworldibuilt4you]

[And Inch did what little parasites like him do best. Dig. purposefully digging into the files and documents until he found Sam]

"Good! You SHOULD stay there, out of my hair. I can't believe she'd say she Doesn't Feel Bad about disobeying me by what...digging up some sad, pathetic lump like you?"

[Mr Inch quite proudly adjusted his bowtie]

"You want to know something funny, anemone? Retrospectively of course. It's Not! a birth defect. I felt quite bad about this but recently you know, I think it's benefitted that cat-erpillar and I, not having wings."

[Make him feel worse. chase him off. That's all the parasite really cared about]

"Now, you WILL stay out of my way, won't you?"

[Sam flinched as he felt the place disturbed. His hands clutched around his head, his body glitching in sharp spikes of code and pixelation. No. No no no no no-]

[He stared as he was dug out of his hole like a dog going after a den of baby bunnies. He was speechless with the audacity of this thing, and almost would have maybe cowarded away if it weren't for what he said next.]

".....You.... What...?"

[He didn't even consider what any of this meant until things started settling in, realizations beginning to tick away in his skull.]

[He had considered him a social parasite, he hadn't even realized that he could have been an actual one.]

[A flicker burns across the screen, like the entirety of the windows desktop had... jittered.]

[He would have stayed away in shame and pity before. He would have, if Inch hadn't made such a foolish error here.]

[His eyes flickered as he stared forward through the camera- a static began to make itself known through those speakers.]

[Without a mediator, it was harder to keep him steady.]

[He WAS still broken afterall. Just not in the way Sam had expected]

"....I...."

[Another warble across the screen, the jitters getting quicker now, the beats between them growing closer.]

[Hes getting to his feet, those slightly clawed tips of his fingers suddenly beginning to stretch and contort into longer, thinner blades.]

"I̷'̶L̵L̸ ̷K̸I̵L̷L̸ ̵Y̴O̴U̵.̷"

[That old voice box, the temporary one, had turned itself off. There was a new voice breaking through. HIS voice.]

[The laptop was growing a bit hotter]

[WARNING: RAM USAGE AT 78%]

"I̷'̶L̵L̸ ̷K̸I̵L̷L̸ ̵Y̴O̴U̵.̷-!!!"

[That static had grown loud enough to hurt their ears.]

[The screen goes black.]

[...]

[A large block of red flashing text fills the screen.]

I̷'̶L̵L̴ ̶G̵R̷I̷N̴D̷ ̷Y̷O̶U̷ ̴T̵O̴ ̴P̶A̵S̵T̸E̶ ̷B̵E̸T̸W̵E̶E̵N̸ ̵M̶Y̵ ̸G̶O̷D̸ ̵D̶A̴M̷N̶ ̷J̴A̷W̶S̶

[.....]

[The computer shuts off.]

[nettlestingsoup]

is the new seungbin lovebug au a fanfiction, or is it an excuse for me to infodump nature facts? take a wild guess!

[shinelikethunder]

computer/firefox anon, no questions this time. just my undying thanks! as tumblr users say, i am kissing you on the mouth etc etc. huge thank you to you and everyone else who added stuff in the replies or reblogs — i feel much more confident about this now<33. tldr: y’all are awesome, thanks a bunch!

happy to help! and i think i said this deep down under the read-more in the first response to your Linux ask, but it's worth highlighting--@compusever's advice to get a Windows 10 or 11 Home laptop and do what you can with the privacy settings is not AT ALL incompatible with trying Linux or eventually replacing Windows with it. once you've booted up the computer from an installation USB drive, most distros will offer a temporary "preview" version of the OS that runs from the USB drive without changing anything on the computer. you can try Ubuntu, mess around, see if you like it, wipe the USB drive, put Mint on it, and try that; if you go for the full install you can dual-boot and keep Windows around in hard-drive quarantine in case you need it.

in other words, you don't have to take the entire plunge all at once! but i suspect that if you don't have pre-existing desktop UI preferences, and you strongly prefer a device that won't pester/spy on/micromanage you, a beginner-friendly Linux will be easier to use than any of the current versions of Windows.

btw, here's the install guide for Mint: https://linuxmint-installation-guide.readthedocs.io/en/latest/ compared to the Ubuntu one, which goes out of its way to be friendly and dead simple, the Mint guide is... a lot closer to what you can expect from most Linux tutorials, lmao. i especially love that the very second step explains a bit about why it wants you to check that the file didn't get corrupted in the download process, immediately starts providing commands you can copy into a Linux terminal to generate cryptographic checksums, and only then adds a "how to do this on Windows" link... to a forum post with commands you can paste into a Windows terminal. (meanwhile, Ubuntu gives you a download link and then displays an unobtrusive "here's how to verify the file if you want" with a one-off command and a link to more info.) even the friendliest Linux tends to be built on the labor of absolute nerds who are into this stuff as a hobby, and they are very helpful, but be warned that they often have a wildly skewed frame of reference about what "normal computer use" consists of.

[handoverthekawaii]

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 1

Taglist: @hom3landr

It’s a crisp spring day in New York. Parents all over town are probably scheduling park play dates for their little ones, and restauranteurs are likely dragging tables out of winter storage to take advantage of the sun and the breeze. Part of you wishes you could be at one of those restaurants, sipping coffee or nibbling on a bagel as the city moves around you. But, today, you’re on the move yourself — it’s Friday, the end of your first week as a full-time employee at Vought International.

Well, KIND OF a full-time employee, you think to yourself as your train pulls up to the platform. You’ve landed a job in the Hero Management Department, but it’s only a temporary position (“Just to fill in some unexpected gaps in Vought’s workforce,” the hiring manager had said, whatever that means.) But a temp job is still a job, and surely you’ll have enough time at the company to accomplish what you’re going there to do.

The rider seated next to you is watching the news on his laptop, without headphones of course. Since it’s not like you have a choice anyway, you halfway pay attention as the subway trundles toward Midtown Manhattan.

21 dead as protests erupt in the Middle East… Ecoterrorist group Viridi Aurora claims responsibility for Vatican blackouts… The headlines are pretty bleak, so part of you is relieved when the man switches over to VNN’s coverage of the Vought Hero Draft.

Before long, you find yourself standing on the sidewalk in front of Vought Tower. A security check and a crowded elevator ride later, you make it to your workstation just in time to clock in. The morning passes by quickly — you work on some travel reimbursement forms, then attend a sexual harassment prevention seminar alongside other new Vought employees.

You decide to make your move around three o’clock. All week long, you’ve been using your morning and afternoon breaks to roam the hallways of Vought Tower’s many floors. Yesterday morning you finally found what you’d been looking for: a simple white door in a sterile, featureless hallway.

“Personnel File Storage,” it says on the door in painted block lettering. And even though the door is warped and the lettering has started to peel, the door is secured with a deadbolt lock attached to a shiny, black keycard reader.

You’ve revisited the door multiple times since you initially located it, puzzling over how you might gain entry. Swiping your own keycard would be a horrible idea — even if the door opened, Vought security staff would know right away that you’d trespassed somewhere you weren’t meant to be.

But your walks have also led you past a keycard station in the IT Department’s warren of cubicles. It looks like an employee is intended to staff the station at all times, but you’ve never seen anyone there. With a little luck, you should be able to encode a keycard giving you access to the room, conduct your business there, and leave the card behind at the station before anyone catches on. How hard could it be?

So there you are, standing in front of “Personnel File Storage” with a freshly minted keycard in hand. Trying to steady your arm from trembling, you swipe the card through the reader — but instead of a click of the lock, instead you are greeted with a blinking red light. Access denied.

For a split second, you have no idea what to do. Did I fuck the card up? you think to yourself as, just for good measure, you swipe it again. Once again, access denied.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins but, after the third try, your temper flares. “OPEN, GODDAMMIT!” you whisper to yourself as you kick the door in frustration.

“I doubt you can kick open that door wearing those shoes.” [continued in AO3]

[cottagecorezemo]

uuughhhh so I've had some health stuff going on this whole year, multiple new medications and all that, so I haven't written since APRIL. Just haven't had the spoons or the drive or the social impetus or fannish juice or anything like that fueling me. (Barely managed to write what I did in the spring, too.)

BUT last night I started working on a wip and was writing for about three hours WHEN MY LAPTOP BLUESCREENED. It's the worst laptop I've ever had and does this at random, and I know it, but I was in the flow state... and couldn't remember the last time I'd saved.

Me for five solid minutes, my head in my hands: NO NO NO GODDAMMIT NOOO NOOO DAMMIT GOD NOOOO DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT UGH FUCK

Like.

I don't have the writing stamina, the GAS, the OOMPH, the CHUTZPAH, to lose this much work and be able to recover! You know???

Even when I'm writing a ton and those mental muscles are in great shape and the gears are all lubed up, this would be a bit of a blow. To lose a significant chunk of writing. But I am not in great writing shape right now. I'm writing on low battery power, and experiencing the world from behind a weird plastic curtain of med fog. It's hard for me to even start, and everything I write is incoherent zero draft that needs a lot of editing to become even first draft quality, and if I think about what I've written too much, I hate it and trash it and feel bad and don't even try again for a while.

So to have written at all in the first place... and then lose it to the random blue screen of death...

😩

Unfortunately I was a poor kid who grew up without word processing programs fancier than Wordpad and now I still don't use them, even though I have them. So I wasn't using an app with autosave. No temporary files were kept on my hard drive. The writing I lost was just gooone.

But to my immense relief, I found I had last saved half an hour before my lappy ate shit. I'd saved just after completing a scene, on total autopilot. The new scene I had just started was all gone, but I still had the scene I'd edited, reworked, and finished.

I rewrote what I had of the scene before having to tap out.

I'm so grateful. To have written. To have finished a scene, and saved it. To have had enough battery left in me to rewrite what I'd lost.

That was deeply demoralizing for a good ten minutes, but ultimately could have been way worse.