#user-data

[8pxl]

PSA: Tumblr/Wordpress is preparing to start selling our user data to Midjourney and OpenAI.

you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.

to opt out on desktop, click your blog ➡️ blog settings ➡️ scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle.

to opt out on mobile, click your blog ➡️ scroll then click visibility ➡️ toggle opt out option.

if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. if you don’t have the option available, update your app or close your browser/refresh a few times. important to note you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)

[inaturalist-unofficial]

What's the iNaturalist AI drama...? I hadn't heard about anything until now.

iNaturalist announced a project, funded by a $1.5 million dollar grant from Google, to create a LLM trained on user ID comments to produce generative AI ID tips.

As a user that has voluntarily provided nearly 95k IDs and a lot of them containing uncountable hours of study to provide helpful and accurate information for the community, this disgusts me.

The official announcement on site: https://www.inaturalist.org/posts/113184-inaturalist-receives-grant-to-improve-species-suggestions

The official announcement on bsky:

Official feedback form:

A forum discussion:

[10001gecs]

one 100 word email written with ai costs roughly one bottle of water to produce. the discussion of whether or not using ai for work is lazy becomes a non issue when you understand there is no ethical way to use it regardless of your intentions or your personal capabilities for the task at hand

with all due respect, this isnt true. *training* generative ai takes a ton of power, but actually using it takes about as much energy as a google search (with image generation being slightly more expensive). we can talk about resource costs when averaged over the amount of work that any model does, but its unhelpful to put a smokescreen over that fact. when you approach it like an issue of scale (i.e. "training ai is bad for the environment, we should think better about where we deploy it/boycott it/otherwise organize abt this) it has power as a movement. but otherwise it becomes a personal choice, moralizing "you personally are harming the environment by using chatgpt" which is not really effective messaging. and that in turn drives the sort of "you are stupid/evil for using ai" rhetoric that i hate. my point is not whether or not using ai is immoral (i mean, i dont think it is, but beyond that). its that the most common arguments against it from ostensible progressives end up just being reactionary

i like this quote a little more- its perfectly fine to have reservations about the current state of gen ai, but its not just going to go away.

[stellewriites]

butch price x reader

cw: smut, pussy eating, fingering, bush huffing, mean price, mechanic price, freak reader, inferred as inexperienced reader (as a treat!)

thank u as always to the cloisters for cheering this series on and yapping away about butches to me. here’s the fourth & final piece of the butch love letters quadrilogy

you huffed and puffed as you paced back and forth in front of the smoking open bonnet of your shitheap car.

you were cursing your friend for convincing you to get the cutesy car over the scuffed up ford you’d seen on the secondhand marketplace the same day. that tin can wouldn’t have broken down on you unexpectedly like this; stuck in the middle of nowhere as the sun set with no reception to call triple a or even your dad for a bit of engine advice.

you’d opened the hood as soon as you’d pulled over but you had no clue what was wrong with it, just that it probably shouldn’t be smoking or hissing like that. you’d tried to take a look at the canister that was spitting bubbles at the cap but had forgotten the golden rule of Don’t Touch, Hot after you’d been driving. your fingers still ached a little from the burn.

one hand on your hip, you held your phone up with the other like it would help at all as you tried to call for help again. the hazard lights from your car were starting to become brighter than the natural light and the streetlights were dim and far apart, not offering much in lieu of the setting sun.

you really didn’t want to be stranded there for the night.

you’d ignored the cars that had passed earlier when you’d first pulled over, not expecting to need an extra hand when your paid-for car support would be arriving presumably swiftly after you called. and then when you’d realised it wouldn’t be so easy, you’d hoped that simply letting your car cool off a little would fix the issue enough to get you further down the road at least.

you’d sat behind the wheel once more and felt your stomach drop when the engine rolled; a mean, dry grinding noise coming from it instead of the usual purr.

you’d tried once more before pulling your keys free and glueing yourself back to your phone as your last hope. you knew there was no way you’d be able to walk for help, especially not with how long you’d waited and how dark it was quickly becoming.

short of a miracle, you’d be stuck there until someone passed by in the morning and could maybe tow your little fiat to the nearest garage.

the rumble of a bike had your spiralling thoughts stopping in their tracks and your head snapping up towards the road. you felt your eyes widen as the rider pulled over, stopping a little ways behind you.

they climbed off the impressive bike easily, thick thighs nudging it to stay in place as they nudged the kickstand in place, and removed their helmet.

you wondered for a moment if you’d managed to hallucinate the woman stood before you - a miracle after all - with her close cropped hair glittering with greys spattered throughout. you stared shamelessly at the clustering of them at the shaved sides, but wondered at the way the low light caught the peppering of them through the messy, longer trim on the top.

“what’s the problem?” the woman asked, her voice firm but light.

you swallowed thickly and dragged your eyes down to her face, not that it was a difficult task to look at her. she was gorgeous and you felt your knees knock as you watched her come closer.

her sarcastically cocked eyebrow reminded you that you’d not yet answered her and you cleared your throat before shyly shrugging.

“it just started smoking so i pulled over. couldn’t tell where it was coming from but the engine won’t start,” you said and stepped out of the way so she could have a look. her lips thinned as she carefully dug around inside. you felt the need to fill the sudden silence and stepped back to her side, your hip pressed to the car but still giving her enough space so you weren’t touching. “it had been hissing for a while before.”

“hissing?” she asked as she looked up at you, her hands veering towards the left at your confirmation.

“mhmm. for maybe the last mile or two,” you said sheepishly.

“you kept driving?” she asked with a tinge of judgment. you folded your arms in front of you as you felt the look wash over you.

“no lights came on the dash,” you said a little feebly.

she blinked slowly, as though processing what you’d said before turning back to the car.

you had the distinct feeling that she thought you were an idiot. you dug your fingers into your arms as you watched uselessly. maybe you were.

“y’radiators gotten too hot with no water, cracked the water tank. it’s no wonder the engine wouldn’t start, y’wont be able to drive it ‘til it’s fixed, could set the engine on fire,” she said as she pointed out the things she was talking about. she stood back up straight and turned to you as your heart sank.

“fuck,” you swore heartily and clenched your eyes shut. that sounded expensive.

“i know a local garage that can sort it for you, decent rates,” she offered, her voice a touch softer than it had been so far. “i can give you a lift too.”

you opened your eyes just in time to watch her nod to her bike and start walking.

“oh, i don’t know if i should leave my car here…”

“we’ll call up a service to collect it as soon as we’re in range, won’t get any signal out here,” she said and pulled out a spare helmet from the back of her bike as if it was already decided, you were just late to the game. she pulled her own on with practised ease and held out the other towards you with a tilt of the head.

you darted back to your car and grabbed your bag before turning off the hazards, locking the door and finally joining her. you introduced yourself and waited for her to do the same.

“you can call me price,” she said brusquely, not returning your smile.

not the friendly introduction you’d been hoping for, but you were grateful for a name to put to the face all the same.

price didn’t hesitate before pushing the helmet onto your head, knocking your chin up with her finger in order to clip the strap in place. you stood frozen as she straddled her bike, lost for a moment at the unexpected touch and not seeing the impatient nod of her head to the space behind her.

“haven’t got all night, love. are you getting on or not?” price snapped, eyes flinty as they stared you down beneath the open visor.

“right, yes, sorry,” you stuttered, scrambling to her side. you paused at the height of the bike, the length of your summer dress not allowing for much movement before you’d inevitably flash your saviour; but at the memory of her sharp look, you tried to balance yourself and quickly lift your leg over the seat.

you were conscious of your size and weight behind her as soon as your arse hit the leather, shuffling back to give her room. you ran hot at the best of times and you couldn’t imagine she’d like a heater pressed along her back for the ride ahead given how testy she’d been already.

balancing behind her without clinging on was tricky however, with your toes just scraping the ground to keep you in place. even with your grip on her jacket at her waist you didn’t feel particularly sturdy.

you saw more than heard her sigh as her shoulders lifted then dropped in front of you and then suddenly her strong hands were on your thick thighs as she tugged you forward, slotting you so you were cradling her hips flush against your own.

“you need to hold on tight,” she said plainly and tugged your arms around her sturdy middle, tightening your grip further with a scoff when you automatically loosened it once she’d let go. you clenched your hands together above her belt and finally it seemed you’d done something right as she set off, kicking the stand up and revving, checking the empty road as she pulled out.

your dress fluttered in the wind; never mind flashing her as you’d climbed on, you would definitely be giving her a show now if she had the mind to look down and back at you. but you were too busy to fuss with the flighty material, instead concentrating on staying attached as she took corners sharply, dipping and weaving and tilting the bike so you’d have to clench your legs tighter and tighter against hers.

every time your knees felt like they could touch the asphalt, you hid your face in her back as best you could with the bulky helmet hindering your way, but you could still feel the way her shoulders shook with a laugh. you were inclined to pretend it was just the rumble of the engine, but you were more than aware of the difference in vibrations at your core and although both had you squirming, you knew they weren’t one and the same.

the ride was short - a blessing and a curse - and soon you were pulling up to a garage; lights turned off and clearly closed for the evening.

you felt disappointment bloom as you stumbled off the bike but price didn’t let it linger. unlocking the garage door and pressing a button on the attached fob to send the shutter lifting. she pushed her bike inside and you followed without needing to be told.

you stood near the entrance as you watched her walk around, clearly familiar with the workshop. you let your gaze drift, taking in the few cars parked inside the sprawling space, hoods down and doors presumably locked while they weren’t being worked on, tools packed away at their stations not necessarily neatly but clearly with care.

a hand on your lower back had you jumping and you turned to see price at your side, ushering you further in until you were sat on a tall stool next to a workbench.

you noticed as she walked away that she’d taken off her jacket and your eyes caught on a tattoo on the outside of her bicep, a labrys. simple in its design, and clear in its message.

you tried not to stare too hard, but your eyes kept snapping back to trace the lines that made up the two headed axe, especially as she moved and her bicep bulged. your throat felt suspiciously dry all of a sudden.

you played with the little orange carabiner attached to your bag strap, your keys jingling softly in the silence of the garage.

price was at the other side of the room, head leant against her raised shoulder to keep her phone in place as she spoke into the receiver and wrote something down at the same time. you saw her frown and roll her eyes and bit your lip, heat pooling below your gut. you watched as she said something indistinct before hanging up and calling a new number.

you felt yourself grow fidgety and sat on your hands to keep yourself still, the solid wood seat sobering with how unforgiving it was against the back of your hands as your palms and fingers gripped the underside of your sweaty thighs.

price laughed across the room and you tuned back in to her conversation. “l

“sure, i owe you one nik. see you in a few then,” she said and hung up her phone, slipping it into a pocket. she turned to you and her lips twitched when she found you already watching her. “found someone that’s going to tow it tonight, just need to wait here to lock it inside safe and sound before the lads can work on it in the morning. shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours before he turns up.”

“amazing, thank you,” you said, gratefully smiling at her. you swallowed and gathered what confidence you had before speaking, putting on your best flirty tone, “i don’t know how to repay you for all of this.”

price paused for a moment and watched you closely, seeming to look for something in your face to decide how she’d respond even as amusement danced in her eyes.

“i’m going to check over a few cars, make sure they haven’t been getting lazy with the work here while i’ve been away,” she said finally, ignoring your clumsy almost-proposition. you scrunched your face in annoyance and regret once she’d walked off towards the key cabinet facing away from you, wanting to bury your face in your hands as it flushed hot in embarrassment but realising they’d gone a little numb when you slipped one out from beneath you.

you could still feel it as you curled your fingers, but it was almost distant, secondary.

an idea came to the forefront of your mind. you peeked up at price as she bent over the open hood of a stranger’s car, checking the notes one of her coworkers had left from the day before and you were suddenly flooded with a deep yearning. tumultuous and red hot, it stirred between your legs as you remembered price’s firm hold on your thighs and wrists and the feeling of her settled between your legs as she laughed and ordered you around.

you breathed in shakily and let your tingling hand rest on your knee, trailing it up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh slowly as you kept your eyes on price. the last thing you needed was her catching you even if the touches could be considered innocent so far.

watching to make sure she didn’t suddenly turn around to catch you also mean you could see the shift of her muscles and weight beneath her vest; a sight you’d never say no to and one that only caused your breath to hitch as you continued the trail to the hem of your dress.

you stopped and bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to continue. it wasn’t like you’d be able to get yourself off in the middle of the garage so it would only further frustrate you and the possibility of getting caught and having to awkwardly face price the next day to get your car back after it was fixed was mortifying enough to still your trembling fingers.

“looks like you’re not the only one with a cracked water tank,” price spoke up from her spot in front of the car. her hands were on her hips before she dragged one over her short hair, scratching at the freshly shaved base of her neck. “i’ll check to see if we have a few in stock, might make it a quicker fix for you if johnny already ordered some in for this one.”

you nodded even though she didn’t look at you and you pulled your other hand out from beneath your arse. your right hand hand gained its feeling back so you dropped it in your lap; the left however was fighting pins and needles as you ran it over your stomach to your chest, squeezing lightly at your breast as shame and excitement and lust flooded through your system like lightning. your eyes slipped closed for a second and even though it felt nothing like price’s confident, sturdy grip from earlier, you couldn’t help but picture it to be her as you grazed your thumb over your nipple with a firmer pressure.

“we’ve got a spare one in stock, so we just need to double check it’ll fit, but otherwise it should be good to go tomorrow unless something else comes up when gaz checks it over.” price’s voice jolted you out of your reverie too soon, having not heard her re-enter the room, and your hand flew down to join your other in your lap, your elbow smacking back harshly against the worktop and echoing in the large empty area.

price raised her eyebrows at you, her jaw falling slack for a moment, as she watched you try to hide your deep wince of pain. a second later she started to walk over to you.

her pale blue eyes were piercing as she kept eye contact with you. “you alright?”

“yep, fine. totally ok. uhm, why?” you tried to play it off casually, landing so far from nonchalant it had price’s worry slipping off her face.

her smirk grew. “y’just smacked your elbow so hard i could hear the bone rattle.”

“oh, sorry?” you apologised uselessly.

“no need, love,” she dismissed your apology quickly, eyes still lasered in on you. “it’s just… you’re looking a little hot and bothered.”

the mean tilt to her smirk didn’t help and you felt yourself fluster and sweat anew under her pinning gaze.

she took a step closer, reaching one hand out to skim across the bare skin of your leg, unknowingly tracing the same path your hand had before. your legs turned to jelly beneath her touch in a way they didn’t under your own and seemed to naturally fall open at the slightest pressure as she urged you to make room for her to step between them.

her fingers’ path stopped at the hem of your dress before she started to bunch it up, letting the material gather at her knuckles as the tips of her finger disappeared beneath while she revealed more soft skin to her greedy gaze.

“were y’committing the view to memory for when you get home and can get your hands on whatever little toy gets you off quickest?” she asked rhetorically, her tone light but words pointed as she watched for your reaction.

you bit back a gasp.

“i can give you what you want,” she offered, voice sweet and soft once more. enticing. “what you need. you don’t have to squeeze your thighs tight for a little relief as you watch me work.”

you flushed hot at the reveal that she’d noticed you all along and shivered as her fluttering touch continued its agonisingly slow path, diverting up to your hips and away from your drooling pussy at the last second. you whimpered.

“would you like that?”

you nodded eagerly, eyes hooded and mouth panting as you watched her hands at their stand still, your panties revealed with your dress hiked up so far, taut where it was caught beneath your arse. you lifted your head to stare at her chest in front of you and then looked up into her flinty eyes, nodding again dumbly. price tutted and you felt your clit throb.

“gotta hear the words, love.”

you flushed hot, head to toe, and mumbled a shy, “i’d like that.”

“mm what was that?” she asked, cocking her head and running her hands, palm flat, back down your legs to your knees, squeezing.

“i want you to touch me,” you said louder, bashful but growing desperate. “please?” you added belatedly.

“‘please’? so polite, love. bet you always get what you want speaking like that, looking like this.”

your eyes had begun to water, glistening as frustration and need overwhelmed you; you shook your head looking up at her.

“never— never done anything like this,” you admitted.

price laughed, tickled by your answer.

“oh, you don’t fuck your mechanic usually?” she asked, pretending to be shocked. “he must not be doing a good enough job on your little kia.”

you hummed, pitchy and unconvincing, eyes growing shifty and giving away that you meant you didn’t do any of it in general. that you weren’t exactly practiced. and price picked up on that immediately.

“oh.” she smiled meanly. “that’s not it, is it? no, i bet he’s floundering for your attention, but you’re just too nervous to give him what he wants, ey? don’t want your first time to be in a dirty garage, in the back seat of some other prick’s car while your mechanic fumbles around in your knickers.”

she’d bent down low to run her lips along your neck, kissing along your neck and leaving a delciate wet trail as she kitten licked across your racing pulse. you gasped when you felt her fingers finally trail over your cunt, the thin material of your panties barely hindering the electric feel of her touch before she pulled at the band and let it snap back against your skin.

“but i think getting dirty is part of the appeal for a girl like you, pretty as you are. you want to be manhandled and marked and ruined,” she whispered hotly, her breath tickling your neck. “nahh, must be that you’re just not interested in what’s been on offer before, hm?”

“he’s nice enough,” you admitted, clinging onto price’s shoulders, “but…”

“—but he’s not what you want,” she finished for you, raising her head from your neck to kiss along your cheek and hovering over your lips. “none of them are, are they? you want something else entirely.”

you leant forward to close the gap, hoping to finally get a taste of her but she pulled back. you chased her lips until she was stood back up straight, looming over you as embarrassment flooded through you again, but pleasantly.

“bet you’ve never been touched before; never had this pretty pussy licked open, spat on.” you felt your chest heave as she spoke bluntly, looking down at you, her hips began to subtly grind against yours. “have you ever even cum on someone else’s fingers?”

“i have,” you huffed at her assessment of you, but she only laughed at your petulant tone.

“no, you haven’t,” she insisted to further wind you up. “bet you’ve not even kissed another woman.”

your breath stuttered as she focused on your lips, licking her own.

“i want to kiss you,” you said bravely.

“that’s all you had to say.”

she dipped low, hands on the worktop either side of you, and licked her way past your gasping lips. you felt overwhelmed and fully explored as the tip of her tongue flicked at yours, saliva building in your mouth as you moaned wantonly and soaked up her quiet grunts in return. she tugged you up onto your feet and in between wet kisses and tight squeezes to your soft hips she led you towards her office in the back.

you made it to her desk with minimal tripping and no bumps on your way despite not having detached to see the way there. instead you’d clung on and trusted she wouldn’t lead you into a wall or car accidentally as she hurriedly felt up your sides to your breasts.

she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the desk and plucked at one of your nipples through the thin dress with a teasing grin.

“feel better than your own hand?” she asked and dropped to her knees before you could answer.

with rough movements price hiked up your dress to reveal your panties and leant forward without hesitation to latch on to your clit through the thin cotton, eager to get you squealing.

she laughed at the restless twitch of your hips in her hands and turned her head to snicker into the fold of your thigh and groin.

“you’re more fun than i thought a virgin would be,” she goaded, eyes heavy as they gazed up at you. you fell for the bait, scoffing down at her with a pout once more as your hand rose to her short hair and yanked what your could grasp to lead her back towards your drooling cunt. you winced when her teeth clashed against your core as she grinned into your panties, endlessly amused by your brash urges hidden behind a forced shy politeness.

price reached up and tugged the material aside to lick a broad stripe up your slit, humming low at your taste and the building slick that had been steadily leaking since she’d first frowned down at you in condescension in front of your car.

“needy an’ desperate,” she huffed before focusing back on task, kitten licking at your clit as you gasped and whined. it felt like you were on fire and you couldn’t help but push up onto her tongue with jerky little thrusts when she dipped low to your hole, desperate for her to keep berating and humiliating you.

she pulled back with a wet suck and a gasp, pushing two fingers into you with no resistance as she caught her breath and licked your arousal off her lips.

she stared up at you as you shook on her fingers, practically doing all the work as you rode her hand until she decided the pace wasn’t good enough and picked up where she’d let you take over.

“fucking hell,” she whispered and nipped at the fat of your thigh. you clenched down on her fingers with a groan.

“please, please, please,” you begged airily. price smiled as she looked you over, head to toe, before nodding benevolently and dipping down to lavish your clit with attention once more.

you felt your orgasm begin to peak and wave over you with a loud, unashamed moan as she curled her fingers just right inside you, the awkward angle of her wrist doing nothing to slow her down as she prolonged your pleasure until you slumped back. spent and exhausted.

“better than your own hand?” she asked cheekily once more and you nodded dazedly.

“uh huh,” you said, remembering she liked verbal answers, and lifted a tired thumbs up at her.

she snorted and took a hold of it, pulling you up just enough to get your hand down the front of her open jeans and into her own soaked underwear.

you moaned as she guided you to slip inside and you clenched your thighs around her as if it was your own pleasure as you slowly sunk in deep. price groaned low and long, curling over you and humping against the heel of your hand where it pressed against her clit.

you weren’t as confident or practiced in your movements from this angle but you did you best to pull out those dazed moans and hitched breaths from price when you moved your fingers and your palm a certain way, repeating until you got the reaction you wanted oh so desperately from her.

price was panting into your neck after a few minutes, the skin between you clammy and you echoed her moans back to her without thought.

“w-warm, so tight,” you stuttered into her ear as you felt her clench around your fingers, nearing her own orgasm as slick ran down past the webbing of your fingers.

your enthusiasm turned price on like nothing else and she shuddered at the next prod and rub of your fingers deep inside of her.

“fucking hell, love,” she swore breathlessly, a grin tugging at her lips as she pulled back to look at your fucked our expression. “got you pussy drunk in under ten minutes and we’ve not even fucked yet. that’s a record even f’me.”

you crooked your fingers and felt a deep satisfaction when price’s jaw dropped on a silent moan, eyelashes fluttering down at you.

you watched her in awe; the way her crows feet became pronounced as her eyes squinted and her brows pulled in in pleasure, the shape of her pretty parted lips as she trembled in your hands.

“i wanna taste,” you blurted out, voice cracking with how dry your throat had become.

you struggled to free your hand and push price back a step as she grumbled, but you got enough space to hop down off the desk and drop to your knees in front of her. you yanked at her jeans without fanfare, wiggled the waistband and her underwear down to her knees before going wide-eyed at the sight of her thick bush.

feeling the soft curls against your fingers was one thing…

you leant in with abandon and pressed your nose in tight, huffing open-mouthed against her mound. soaking in the sweat, slick scent of her and moaning weakly into the damp curls.

“jesus fucking christ.” price tipped her head back and silently thanked whoever was listening for the enthusiastic little freak she had at her feet. she didn’t deserve you, but she wasn’t going to pass up this golden opportunity either.

your hot breath had her thighs twitching where you rested your hands over her pants to keep her still, but her patience ran thin.

“get to it then, love.”

you flicked your eyes up to look at her and she rested one hand on the back of your head, controlling and reassuring.

you started with little kitten licks, needing coaxing ever so into loosening your restraint despite the reckless way you’d just face planted her pussy moments prior. a firm hand or a sharp word would have you set right, you knew, so you continued as you were, trying to remember what you’d liked and copying it.

price didnt wait to see if you’d warm up on your own and used her other hand to tug at your jaw, prising your mouth open further and encouraging your tongue to wag out.

“tongue,” she ordered brusquely before grinding against your face. you got with the program and pointed your tongue so it slipped inside easier, gripping onto price’s arse and thighs as she rode you with little concern for your breathing.

you sucked and hummed against her, lapping at what you could reach when she adjusted her angle before continuing to use you. your nose pressed tight to her mound and caught on her clit on every other thrust up until price was moaning into the air above you, her orgasm quickly rising.

she pulled back and held you away with one hand while the other gave a few hard flicks to her clit. she got off with a broken moan, looking at your wet, messy face; arguably more fucked out than her own. her eyes caught on the hand you’d dropped to finger at your clenching hole again and she groaned, low and amused. fond.

with a breathless laugh, she tugged up her waistband back to her hips but left the jeans unzipped. she pushed her boot between your spread knees, beneath your hips and pushed down on your shoulders until you were resting over the tilted toe of her boot.

you were quick to get the idea and pulled your fingers free, thrusting to catch your clit against the unforgiving material until you came a second time, leaving a thick shine along her shoe when she pulled it back.

you panted against her hip, forehead resting against her just above her open waistband as you caught your breath with a giddy smile. you nibbled and sucked at her stomach as she pet the back of your head.

“don’t usually let girls mark me,” she said softly under her breath as she watched you. she rubbed at one of the the budding red marks you’d left near her zipper. “but I’m quite fond of you after that little performance. might keep ya.”

butch 141 masterlist

moodboard masterlist

[purplepirate123]

Time for Citizens to Hit Elon with a Privacy Act Violation

Email Template

To: privacy@treasury.gov

Subject Line: Civil Liberties Complaint

Hello,

I am making a civil liberties complaint under the Privacy Act of 1974, 5 U.S.C. § 552a. It has been brought to my attention that Elon Musk and his associates, under the guise of a directive of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) (an IT office in the White House), have acquired access to Treasury Department Records in Systems of Records as defined in the Act. As an individual covered by the Act, I believe that there may be records about me in these Treasury Department systems, and I am concerned for the following reasons:

Elon Musk is not an elected official.

Even if Musk were an elected official, the System of Records Notices (SORNs) governing the Treasury Department Privacy Act systems do not allow for disclosure to Musk and his associates per the Routine Uses.

Disclosure of personally identifiable information (PII) and sensitive personally identifiable information (SPII) to Musk and his associates would be an unauthorized disclosure and therefore breach of information.

The Treasury Department must (1) quickly investigate what Privacy Act records that Musk and his associates have unlawfully accessed, (2) reveal to the public what unauthorized disclosures were made, (3) stop further access, (4) force any files acquired by Musk and his associates to be returned and/or permanently destroyed, and (5) seek criminal penalties against Musk and his associates for violations of the Act.

Sincerely,

[INSERT NAME AND CONTACT INFORMATION]

Privacy Act of 1974

The spirit of this law is rooted in presidential drama and corruption. It was passed as a direct result of the Watergate Scandal which uncovered the federal government’s scheme of illegally investigating and maintaining records about individuals. So in an effort to provide transparency to the public and an assurance that the government would not misuse records about us all, the Privacy Act of 1974 was born.

Multiple unions have now filed a lawsuit against the Department of the Treasury and the Bureau of the Fiscal Service under the Privacy Act as well as other privacy laws. They are seeking a civil remedy in the form of a restraining order to prevent DOGE from accessing records. But the Act also allows for criminal penalties to be assessed. The two that could apply to Musk and his associates include:

“Any person who knowingly and willfully requests or obtains any record concerning an individual from an agency under false pretenses shall be guilty of a misdemeanor and fined not more than $5,000.” 5 U.S.C. § 552a(i)(3).”

“Any officer or employee of any agency who willfully maintains a system of records without meeting the notice requirements of subsection (e)(4) of this section shall be guilty of a misdemeanor and fined not more than $5,000.” 5 U.S.C. § 552a(i)(2).”

The first applies to Musk accessing Privacy Act records from the Treasury Department under false pretenses of carrying out official government duties.

The second could apply if Musk creates a system of records in the DOGE office without complying with the law. For example, if he began using his IT office role to create records about individuals in the government or who receive government assistance, that would be a violation. It is very likely we will need to demand an investigation into DOGE and what they have on US citizens, too.

Email the Treasury Department today with the template up above. We deserve to have our privacy protected, and some loser who isn’t even from this country shouldn’t be allowed to stomp all over our rights.

ELON MUSK IS STAGING A COUP AT THE US TREASURY!!! He has not right to be there, no authorization for what he's doing, no oversight. AND THE MAINSTREAM MEDIA IS INSTEAD FOCUSING ON DICKFACE'S INSANE GAZA COMMENTS.

Write emails. Call your senators. ALSO, TODAY, MARCH. Every Us capital city in every state. And if you can get to DC or are in DC, hit the streets.

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[scipunk]

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

[kyurochurro]

caught a cold yesterday so I rewatched a good old childhood fav of mine, which also included another robot buddy I love! here’s data with wall-e cus why not :D

[markscherz]

Are you familiar with this frog?

Yeah pretty sure that's Larry from down the pub. 'Ullo, Larry!

But in all seriousness, I'm afraid I cannot help without location information. Orientation within Bufonidae without location is a nightmare. If this is Africa, we're talking genus Sclerophrys. If it's the USA, it's probably Anaxyrus. If it's Europe, it's probably Bufo. If it's South America we're in Rhinella territory. And so on, and so forth.

[githjanken]

i’m seeing a lot of fear today about Tumblr Shutting Down (Real) (Actually True) today and let peepaw seg tell you a story

i’ve been on this webbed site for fifteen years, believe it or not, since way back in the days of Tumblarity. now i was but a wee lad at the time, so i don’t remember the fine details, but rest assured, it doesn’t matter much for the story i’m about to tell you.

you see, i remember when tumblr was owned by tumblr. folk called its ceo (david karp) “daddy”, and were enthusiastic about his communications, even if on our own blogs, we’d bitch and moan about tumblr making changes to things we were used to. i remember the hubbub when tumblr removed tumblarity, and how this was surely going to be the end of tumblr.

all those fifteen (though it might be sixteen) years ago.

layouts changed, and we’d bitch and moan, and tumblr’d get sold, and we’d know for sure that This Was The End Of Tumblr, For Real This Time. this happened again and again and again, because this webbed site, you see, it makes no money, and companies, greedy things as they are, like money.

the porn ban, under the reign of YaHoo that was, was seen as another death knell. tumblr was going to die, for real, for sure, and i’m not proud to say that i was one of the ones who fell for it. peepaw seg needed to sow hir wild oats on other platforms.

now, i say this happened under yahoo, but it’s important to remember that this ban came in the wake of both the apple app store banning the tumblr app on account of real life csem being hosted on tumblr, and the new usamerican law SESTA-FOSTA being implemented, which made it so that companies such as tumblr would have to moderate the explicit content on them to make sure none of it breached sesta-fosta. tumblr, being a small fish in the grand scheme of thing, didn’t warrant that amount of financial effort on yahoo’s part, as the site was still not making any money, and it’s easier and cheaper to blanket ban than it is to moderate. all this to say, it’s important to vote, because if you don’t, your internet freedom will be curtailed.

and now we’re here, some sixteen years on, and i’ll say automattic has been not all good, but definitely not all bad for the site. they changed stuff we liked to our discontent (layouts), and added stuff we hated (live), but they also gave us stuff we like (polls) and an amount of open communication about tumblr’s inner workings not seen since the days of david “daddy” karp. and now they’re putting just a skeleton crew on the tumblr project.

and that’s going to be The End Of Tumblr For Sure For Real Actually This Time. Really. Promise. Abandon Ship.

and we come to the crux of this story.

which is that this has happened before, and it will happen again, because tumblr is surprisingly immune to making any money.

what we’re likely to see in the coming time is no new features (that’s reserved for projects that make money), and an increase in ads, until one day, and this might be in a few months, and maybe in a few years, there’ll be an announcement that tumblr’s been sold to one direction to a new company.

and we’ll start the whole rigmarole again. and this company might be good for tumblr’s userbase, or it might go against everything the tumblr community holds dear. no way of knowing which way it’ll go.

until one day, some parent company will have had enough, and will pull the plug.

but for now… well, i’m gonna sit here on my porch (blog), and we’ll see what happens. i'm not worried, tumblr’s survived worse things.

[muffinlance]

I s w e a r I remember you having a fic about Zuko's hair being super long and him joining the gang early?? But I can't find it on your AO3-

Was that someone else (and if so do you know who?) Or is there just somewhere else it would be?

You want the Herbalist!Zuko Au, which is in my prompts collection:

Note that you need to be logged in to read this fic. You might also be thinking of one of the fics inspired by these, which are mostly linked through the chapters in the end notes.

[millenniallust4death]

Here’s the third exciting installment in my series about backing up one Tumblr post that absolutely no one asked for. The previous updates are linked here.

Previously on Tumblr API Hell

Some blogs returned 404 errors. After investigating with Allie's help, it turns out it’s not a sideblog issue — it’s a privacy setting. It pleases me that Tumblr's rickety API respects the word no.

Also, shoutout to the one line of code in my loop that always broke when someone reblogged without tags. Fixed it.

What I got working:

Tags added during reblogs of the post

Any added commentary (what the blog actually wrote)

Full post metadata so I can extract other information later (ie. outside the loop)

New questions I’m trying to answer:

While flailing around in the JSON trying to figure out which blog added which text (because obviously Tumblr’s rickety API doesn’t just tell you), I found that all the good stuff lives in a deeply nested structure called trail. It splits content into HTML chunks — but there’s no guarantee about order, and you have to reconstruct it yourself.

Here’s a stylized diagram of what trail looks like in the JSON list (which gets parsed as a data frame in R):

I started wondering:

Can I use the trail to reconstruct a version tree to see which path through the reblog chain was the most influential for the post?

This would let me ask:

Which version of the post are people reblogging?

Does added commentary increase the chance it gets reblogged again?

Are some blogs “amplifiers” — their version spreads more than others?

It’s worth thinking about these questions now — so I can make sure I’m collecting the right information from Tumblr’s rickety API before I run my R code on a 272K-note post.

Summary

Still backing up one post. Just me, 600+ lines of R code, and Tumblr’s API fighting it out at a Waffle House parking lot. The code’s nearly ready — I’m almost finished testing it on an 800-note post before trying it on my 272K-note Blaze post. Stay tuned… Zero fucks given?

If you give zero fucks about my rickety API series, you can block my data science tag, #a rare data science post, or #tumblr's rickety API. But if we're mutuals then you know how it works here - you get what you get. It's up to you to curate your online experience. XD

[icewindandboringhorror]

indeed my exact process once every 8 months or so

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter II: When Clusters of Stars Tell Stories

Chapter Summary: Every action has a reaction, that’s what you were taught at a young age. You just never figured your actions would cause Elliott Marston to have this kind of reaction.

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans)

Notes:

Wrote this chapter immediately after the first, and was proud with it initially. But now I'm not too sure. Did some minor rewrites but still, not too sure. I think that's just me second guessing myself, plus figuring out the exact order of events for the next chapters. I'm trying to trust the process gang.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It took you about a week since the conversation between you and Elliott to notice a pattern and figure out what the catch was.

No, he didn’t lower your pay. Come payment day you found that it was the same as in the last two weeks. No, the workload hadn’t suddenly increased. It was like the other times, and you had already gotten used to it at this point. No, the men didn’t try their luck with getting back at you somehow. Comments and looks here and there, but it didn’t seem like they were going to carry out anything big. The only notable difference was how Coogan did his best to not talk to you, when he could help it. Not like you were complaining.

But maybe some of those things would have been more preferable. Because when you realize what the catch was, how minor and inconvenient it would be to others, it quickly spiraled your mind with questions that had no answers to them.

Elliott Marston would take any opportunity that he saw fit to interact with you in some way.

The first two days, you paid no mind and thought it was even reasonable. You had gotten into a fight with one of his men after all. You figured this was just his way of making sure it didn’t happen again, or to show you “who was boss”. On these first two days, he was observing you more often than he had previously. Even coming up to you to talk about the work you were doing and going to be doing. This was something he did during the first few days of working for him, where he was directing you, but then he made his men give you orders after some time. If it was just this, you probably would have brushed it off.

But the third and fourth day was when you started to question his behavior. Sure, he’d watch you from afar, come up to speak about the work, same as before. But then there would be a few times throughout the day that he’d just… started talking to you.

At first, you thought he was just mulling to himself aloud. You never really caught into it on the third day, with being focused on your work. It was the fourth when you noted he said something when you walked by him to do another one of your tasks. You paid it no mind. It wasn’t until you had walked past him again a second time that you completely registered that he was talking to you. Not to himself . To you . And only then did you register how irregular that was. In the past, if you happened to walk by him, he wouldn’t say anything. Just a quick look and go back to whatever he was doing. Unless the heat was really getting to you, you never recalled him doing this before.

“I’m sorry, did you need me to do something?” You weren’t exactly kind in your tone like you were previously whenever you asked that question, in case you didn’t hear one of the workers on the ranch talk to you the first time. So, you figured he wanted you to do something, and you didn’t realize since you were so focused.

From his front porch leaning on one of his pillars, he studied you for a moment. Once again wearing that unreadable expression, which was even harder to see under his hat.

“You don’t seem to pay much attention to your surroundings when working.”

You didn’t know what to make of that… statement? It didn’t sound like a question, but you weren’t sure what kind of observation that was, besides an obvious one.

“I pay attention when something or someone needs my attention.” Was all you could offer, wanting to end the conversation soon.

“From what I was told, it seemed like the men didn’t need your attention when talking among themselves earlier this week.”

You didn’t even try to hide your annoyance when he said that.

“I was giving the two Aboriginal women you have on your grounds attention. He only got my full attention after his comments about my family,” You wiped off some of the dirt that had been forming on your clothes. Not like it mattered; they would get dirty again. “Was that all, or may I get back to work?”

Was it a bit stupid and dangerous to give him mouth even after he was gracious with allowing you to stay? Sure. But you couldn’t really give a damn. You wanted to earn your paycheck, and the sooner you could get through the days, the sooner you’d get it.

You expected him to continue on whatever else he had on his mind just to irritate you and regain control of the situation. Instead, he gave a quick, dismissive nod. And so, you left, wanting to put that interaction aside and focus on what you had left to do.

But it didn’t stop with that. From the fourth and fifth day he continued to do this every time you walked by him. He was still doing his previous routine of watching you from afar and coming up to you directly to tell you what to do. But now he would add these small comments if you happened to be nearby while doing your work. It wasn’t even about the fight at that point. He would make comments about anything. The particular gun he carried in his holster that day. Deserters that were still on the loose. The Australian land in general.

You gave curt replies because you just wanted to stay focused on your work. But even with the small amount of replies you did give he would somehow make do and continue on with whatever he was going on about. And not totally wanting to push your luck into waving him off without the risk of your job security, you decided to listen. You figured, if he was the one to initiate the conversation in the first place, then he shouldn’t be mad if hardly any work managed to get done that day. Plus, he was always on his porch when talking, and if the sun was angled right and you were standing in the correct position, the shade would cover you up. So more for your benefit, you listened.

…Admittedly, you found some of his topics interesting to listen to. In some ways that statement on being a student was correct. He sounded intelligent with what he had to say. Whenever he talked about America, he was correct on a number of things. But some areas you knew he wasn’t.

And maybe it was a mistake on your part for the following events that would occur, but you decided to contest the stuff he was wrong about on the fifth day.

“The tribes did uphold those treaty deals.” You said in response to how America would often negotiate treaties among the different tribal groups. “The only reason some of them were broken was because the army kept infesting their lands.”

He must’ve not expected you to say anything at all that weren’t just replies to end the conversation, as he looked at you with just a hint of being surprised.

“Where did you hear that nonsense?”

“That nonsense ,” You gave him a look. “I witnessed. When working on one of the farms in America the owner became close with one of the tribes nearby. They would make trades, giving them crops for some herbal medicine for his animals that got sick.”

You leaned one of those pillars facing more away from Elliott, who had been sitting nearby on a chair.

“The head of that tribe would come and talk about a treaty that had been going on that the military kept breaking. He wanted the farms’ owner to be a witness to one of these meetings, and I came along as I would often be the one making the deliveries to the camp.”

You shook your head as you looked down. You hadn’t noticed that Elliott stopped what he’d been doing, cleaning his gun, and gave his full attention to you.

“Didn’t matter though. The military didn’t listen to our testimonies of our firsthand accounts, where we knew they didn’t break it. They were disrespectful the whole time. The tribe was forced to move once the military took over it. Then the farm went to shit because they couldn’t get the medicine for the animals.”

You thought about the farmer and the tribe’s leader. You hoped they, and their families were doing good while you were down here. It was never easy for you to make connections with other people, with how they treated your parents. But they were one of the few that showed kindness to your troubles.

“The owner of the farm never got help from the military?”

You looked over at Elliott. For once, you could hear just the slightest indication of an emotion that wasn’t stern. He sounded like he cared about whatever happened to him.

You snapped out of that observation and shrugged. “Sometimes they tried to provide some medicine, with the exchange of us giving them some crops. But it didn’t work as well as the herbal medicine, so he stopped dealing with them all together. Didn’t make the army men happy but I don’t think he really cared all that much.”

He looked down, his brows furrowing a bit to the point where you could see a line forming between them. It was an indication he was in thought of the story you told. You noticed how he would often do this, trying to dissect and think about what it was people had said to him, and particularly with you. In a strange way, you found this… respectable, was the best your compliment for him was going to get. Most people don’t take the time to fully process what they or others say to them. Unless it was in the heat of the moment when he was having a quick and rushed discussion, he still took the time to consider what he was going to say, or what others said.

And you realized it wasn’t just in his words that he did this. You realized how he would do this for his actions. The way he moved had a certain precision about it. Even in a frazzled state that you would sometimes see him in there was still somehow an air of thought that surrounded his movements. You could see how he became a ranch owner and a skilled gunslinger; with the few times you saw him using his gun before. It made sense. In his line of work, he couldn’t afford to be careless.

You hadn’t realized how you were staring intently at him mulling this over until one of his men called you over for help getting control over a wild horse they found and wanted to tame. You blinked as you looked over, and quickly rushed from down the porch, wincing a bit as your ribs were still in pain. You must’ve spent too long in the shade because you instantly felt your face heat up as you jogged away from the porch and into the sunlight.

The sixth day followed this similar format, where he would talk to you by his porch when you were nearby. Whenever you did, something about it made you feel like you could challenge him a bit more. And for whatever reason, he allowed it, and would challenge you back. In this back and forth you would learn a few things more about his country and him with yours. He would learn about the city life you had, and he would talk about the ranch life. You didn’t know what to make of these conversations after the first few times.

And you found yourself doing something you hadn’t expected yourself to do at the start of the seventh day.

You made conversation with him first.

It was early enough in the morning, and you were already getting ahead in some areas, thanks to working a bit longer in the evening prior. You put some water on your face and noted Elliott leaving his home to check on his horse. He did this every morning, he never wanted anyone else to take care of his steed, Maverick as he called him.

But as he was walking down the steps and to the stables, you felt like his appearance was off. You couldn’t pinpoint how though. From where you were standing you were a great distance away from him, but even so, you could still tell something wasn’t right. As the sun got a bit higher, casting more light onto the ranch, and onto him, it suddenly hit you.

He wasn’t wearing all black attire. His vest was a deeper shade of a maroon.

You tried to think if he always had a vest like that. With how busy you were with your tasks, you could never really look at him all that much, other than when he was talking to you. Or when you could catch some conversations between him and his men. But at those times you could only recall him wearing something black. Sometimes it was a full black coat with a vest and white button up to contrast it. Other times it was just his black vest and white button up. Rarely did you ever see him without a vest. If he did always have this one, you never noticed until now.

So, you felt like you had to make a comment on it. It was rational to you. Besides, you already had to go and feed the animals that were close by anyway.

When you walked by carrying the scraps for the livestock while he was still tending to his horse, you said something.

“I thought you only dressed like the grim reaper.”

He stopped brushing his horse’s hair and looked over at you. His look of confusion was clear as day. You clarified as you kept feeding the animals.

“I didn’t think you even liked any other color other than black is what I mean.”

He took note of his vest now and seemed to ponder further with what you said.

“I’ve worn this vest before.” He replied.

“Well, I’ve only seen you wear black. I never noticed this vest.”

“Really.”

You didn’t catch how he didn’t frame it as a question, or how thoughtful he sounded. You were more focused on the idea that he could like other things, how implausible that seemed.

“I’m not sure how you could mostly wear black, when the sun is so damn hot.” You said it more to yourself than to him, trying to rationalize a common thought you had about his choice of clothing aloud.

“It’s proper attire that suits my character well.”

“For a funeral maybe.”

You didn’t realize how much you had gone back and forth on this singular topic on something so small. You didn’t even realize that as you were working, he would follow you to finish this conversation. Which delved into a conversation on what you liked to wear, which was whatever was practical, you were never too picky growing up. That led to him rationalizing that his clothing was practical in getting to his weaponry quickly. That led you to asking about what shooting a gun was like, and him explaining how even being an expert he still found himself closing his eyes as a reaction whenever it went off. Which made you think about the times that you did see him use his gun, and he was right.

Throughout the morning it went like this, him following you around with you never phasing in doing your work. At times he would need to leave and would excuse himself. But then he’d get back right to wherever the two of you left off. By midday you didn’t realize how exhausted you were. A bit odd, since you’ve never gotten tired this quickly before. By the afternoon, when it was time to send out letters by one of the workers who were already going into town for a supply run, he let you know the payment you were sending to your family and gave you the leftover percentage to you personally. Noting it was the same, you were going to help the rest of the workers in loading up some crates for their journey. But before you could, Elliott stopped you and told you to get into some shade because the last thing he wanted was to drag another worker out of the sun.

You didn’t realize this was the first time he allowed you to have a break. Because if you did, it would’ve been a bigger deal. But you were exhausted. So, you went to the lodge and crashed out for some time.

Upon waking up, you could see that the sun had started to go down. You tried to get your bearings on why you went to bed earlier than usual when you could hear two men talking outside to each other, as one of the windows was partially open. They seemed like they were in the middle of a conversation when they came near the lodge.

“-y arm must’ve pulled something when carrying the crates,” The voice, you could recognize to be Dobkin, groaned. “Should’ve gotten the rookie to do it.”

You immediately knew he was talking about you. He’d called you that before, with how you were one of the newer workers for the ranch, despite now being here for a couple of months. You were about to ignore it when the other voice, you placed to be O’Flynn, spoke next.

“If you did, you’d be cuttin’ into Mr. Martson’s ‘buddy’ time.” He snickered.

You perked up at that. What did he mean by “buddy time”?

“If the rookie has time to be talking with Mr. Marston, then the rookie can take the time to actually do some work.”

You had been doing work. That’s all you have been doing for these past few months. In your still tired state, you wondered why he would even phrase it like that.

“You think it’s odd too, right? How they talk to each other?” O’Flynn asked. “I mean, that weasel beats the shit out of Coogan, and Mr. Marston doesn’t do anything about it.”

“It’s none of my business what Mr. Marston decides to do.” Dobkin responded back. He groaned again. “Christ this arm. Let’s go find a bottle.”

“All I’m saying is,” O’Flynn said as Dobkin’s footsteps were walking away. “Either Mr. Marston is planning a proper funeral or a wedding.”

Their voices grew distant, and you thought about what they said. You knew O’Flynn was just being a little shit saying that last part. But your conversations with Elliott did give you a pause. You really thought about it for a moment as you laid on the cot, looking up at the ceiling.

The past few days he had been observing you more and interacting with you. He sought you out to talk to you, as if he wanted to. And you realized that didn’t make any sense. Here you are working at his ranch even after beating up a man and not holding back when speaking either. How was it that you were still standing and breathing even? As best as you could with your ribs.

And more importantly, you had engaged with him back. You talked with him. Today you even talked to him first. Why?

You rubbed your eyes, your face not hurting as much when you touched it. It didn’t make sense to you. His behavior toward you and yours to him. You tried to rest further. But as the others would come in and rest as well, as much as you closed your eyes, it was hard to sleep with the lingering questions still in your mind. It had gotten well into the night, but you decided that you couldn’t sleep and put on your work outfit just so you had something warm to be in when outside.

You went back to the spot you were at the last time you gazed at the stars, only you stood up this time, as if it would get you closer to them.

They were still as beautiful as ever. And while they brought you a sense of comfort, they couldn’t answer any of the questions you had. But even if they could, it’s not like they would know what to do in your shoes anyway. They could just be there to listen, and you figured that satisfied you enough. That, and you could simply appreciate their beauty.

It amazed you on what you’d missed out on. It was the one thing you could give Australia credit for. You’ve never seen anything like this. You didn’t even think you would ever see something like this.

You stood there, for how long you weren’t sure, just basking in the starlight. You thought about making this a thing to do every night, just looking at the stars. Though you worried it would end up losing its beauty, if you had too much of one good thing. Suddenly, your ears picked up the precise footsteps coming from behind. You could easily recognize them, and it brought you back to your dilemma and questions.

Like last time, he took the place by your left, only not as towering as he was when you were sitting down like before. Upon leaning his arms on the fence’s wooden planks, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. Then he looked out to where you had been looking, right at the stars.

He didn’t rush to say anything like he had when this first happened. He took the time to let the quiet set back in before he could break it. Which of course, he did eventually.

“You know, I’m not paying you to stargaze.” He spoke.

Of course he had to act like this was above him too.

“I’m not telling you to.” You replied back, not even looking at him.

“You couldn’t tell me what you could get paid for any-” He started to go on before you cut him off. You decided that the only way you were going to get answers to your questions was from him.

“Why have you been trying to talk to me?”

He seemed to act like this was the first time you were blunt with him, as if you hadn’t been talking to him bluntly ever since last week. It annoyed you even more. So you made that clear. 

“Don’t act like you don’t get why this confuses me. You’re smarter than that. I beat up one of your men, I talked back to you when you tried to talk to me about it. And even if this was to just uphold a deal with my cousin, you still go out of your way to try to talk to me when neither of us have any reason to.” 

You finally looked over to him. “Why?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Despite being in the dark, without his hat on, and being about three feet from him, you could make out his face. Once again, he kept studying you and seemed to be contemplating what he was going to say next. He turned his head back to the stars and seemed to be contemplating them as well. Like the answer was up there.

You didn’t sense any heaviness in the silence like the last time you both talked under the stars. You’d almost call it peaceful. At least, there were no warning signs yet of anything dangerous to come. So, you waited. And eventually he spoke.

“My mother used to talk about how the stars told stories.”

You gave him a quizzical look.

He must’ve seen your reaction, because he let out a very light chuckle. You realized then that this was the first time you heard any kind of laughter coming out of him. Or even a broader smile than his cocky smirk he would have on from time to time.

“Sounds completely ridiculous right? But she wasn’t wrong. Certain stars have formations that if you really looked closely enough with the right materials, you could see them. They’re called constellations. Each one relates back to a character in a story rooted in Greek mythology.”

You looked back up to the sky. Personally, you couldn’t see anything distinct about them, besides that they were all beautiful. You saw some clusters that were brighter than others, sure. Nothing that told you a story though.

“I always found that interesting,” He continued. “That if you observed and interacted with the stars long enough, they would tell you a story.”

He looked over at you, causing you to look over to him as well.

“I would like to know yours. And I hope you’d like to know mine.”

It was the first time he said anything like it was an offer, rather than a demand. Like he was giving you a say in the matter. And it was said in the same tone that you briefly caught when claiming that you didn’t have the right to make that judgement about how he wasn’t better than anyone. 

It sounded like sincerity, if you had to give it a name.

You had already thought he knew enough, what he needed to know before hiring you. That your family was in financial trouble, and you were the only one who could work and could do the work well. That was it, the gist of what your cousin said, though including more of the circumstances on why you were the only one working. You didn’t even think he wanted to know more. But you also found yourself more focused on the latter half of what he said. How he hoped you would get to know him.

And you really hadn’t thought you would want to get to know him more. Why would you? You felt like he made his character and who he was pretty clear.

But then again…

You realized just how much you were engaging back with him. The details you remembered about these past conversations between the two of you. You talked to him more within the past week than you had within the past months since you’ve been here.

Did you want to get to know him more?

Something about that question made your heart miss a beat. But you couldn’t explain why.

You looked back up to the stars. Like they would have an answer for you. Something. Anything. You tried to clear your head and with whatever thought popped up, whatever your gut instincts were telling you, you would go with it. You couldn’t see how your choice would screw you over if he was giving you the option.

And so, after taking a moment, that’s what you did. You went with whatever came to your mind first. With the stars being witnesses to it.

[hayaku14]

WTF I JUST FOUND OUT THIS KAISHIN AMV GOT DELETED AND IDK WHERE TO FIND IT, I'M FUCKING DEVASTATED THIS IS MY LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA

if anyone has a copy or knows where else it's uploaded, please tell me I'M BEGGING

[incognitopolls]

If you have a plan where after a certain limit, you can still use data but connection will be slowed down, select whatever that "break point" is.

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