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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

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All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)? Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery.

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case.

Sexy would not begin to describe this man.

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms.

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes.

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it.

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us.

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding.

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks.

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man.

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee.

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order.

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks.

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus.

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there.

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?”

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look.

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.”

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away.

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it.

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement.

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer.

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity.

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin.

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy.

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later.

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm.

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name.

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly.

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @Withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

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londonfoginacup · 2 years

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A New Larrie’s Guide to Tumblr

A probably incomprehensible, certainly incomplete list of what you need to know; whether you’re coming from a different platform or discovering Larry for the first time.

My credentials

Hello! I’m Emmu. I’ve had tumblr since… 2008? Maybe 2009. I moved over from deviantArt and used Tumblr as a personal art blog for many years. I joined the One Direction fandom in 2014, so my 1D blog has 8+ years at this point. That being said, I will get on my soapbox a bit during this. Please excuse me, I’m quite passionate about cultivating a happy and healthy fandom.

What makes Tumblr different

The biggest thing that makes Tumblr, as a site, different from Twitter or Instagram is the rejection of algorithms. The “following” tab on your dashboard is in chronological order (and if it isn’t, you can – and should – change that), and the “for you” tab is both a recent feature and rarely used. Tumblr has very little algorithm, and the algorithm they have isn’t very good. It means that you’ll get the most god awful ads you’ve ever seen on this site, because they don’t utilize your data well. And that’s to your advantage.

Tumblr is a great place because you can curate what you see more than other social media. The people that you choose to follow are the only people that you see on your dash (unless you choose to follow tags, which I guess is an option? @lululawrence says “it is and it used to not do anything unless you went to the search page and then it would like autofill your followed tags options, but NOW they take those followed tags and plop them on your dash... SOMETIMES. usually only on mobile. but if there's only one new post in the tag, it shows you that post OVER. AND OVER. AND OVER AGAIN. IT'S SUPER ANNOYING ACTUALLY. SO I STOPPED FOLLOWING TAGS. lol anyway”).

So, the site is in chronological order. This is its biggest selling point.

There is also the opportunity for long posts. Masterposts. Things that are searchable without having to read through pages of screenshots or condensed twitter threads. You can write a whole lot more without worrying about character limit. People publish whole fics on here (I suggest ao3 for that, but tumblr is technically an option!).

Another important thing to know about tumblr is that the archives on tumblr run deep. There are newer larries here, and a lot of them, but you can also find older larries. People whose 1D blogs go back to 2010 or 2011. You can dive into the archives and read firsthand accounts of what was happening with One Direction or larry at that very time. Doing a bit of research means you find cute fetus pictures of the boys, but also you’re able to figure out for yourself whether something actually happened. Rumors always seem to spread quite easily and fandom memory always seems impossibly short, but here on tumblr you’re able to find out for yourself. That means the next time you hear about how xyz thing happened a long time ago, check out some of those archives and see what you can find.

Also, my personal favorite part of tumblr is that old posts are just as valid as new posts. Find a masterpost about RBB and SBB from 2015? Go ahead and reblog that; bring it back to the circulating dash. People will love that. Find a fanartist that you really like? Search through their tags, reblog anything you want. It’s not considered stalking or weird in any way. We love bringing back old posts here. Tumblr is a website where you’re not meant to just talk about the present.

The cultural difference between Tumblr and Twitter

Speaking of the ways that tumblr and twitter are different, let’s talk for a moment about the 1D fandom in particular.

I’ve held this theory for a while that the twitter (and instagram) algorithm is fracturing the fandom. Because twitter is so dependent on the algorithm, people are more likely to split apart and join smaller and smaller communities based on smaller, more specific opinions. Tumblr, being a place where you don’t just get a post on your dash because someone else liked it, doesn’t have those smaller cliques. There are larries, and there are antis.

(if you get really in the weeds, there are also larry shippers [who don’t believe they’re together but like to read it in fic], and houis [who think they were together but broke up], but I just don’t hear about them as much).

While I do occasionally hear about blouies on my dash, for the most part this is a culture that exists primarily on other sites.

On another note, because tumblr doesn’t have that handy algorithm, we have to work to make it a more active space. Likes don’t do anything here for anyone other than you, and it doesn’t really change anything about what you’ll see on your dash. Think of them more like the bookmark setting on twitter or instagram. Reblogs are necessary to get anything spread. Anything that you enjoy, or that looks interesting for any reason? Reblog it! That’s the only way other people will see it! And leave a happy comment in the tags if you’ve got one (more on that later).

And, while lurkers do exist in this fandom (and we love them), it’s important to get an icon and blog header that make you look like a real person. People on tumblr have long been in the habit of blocking shady blogs, mostly because of a bot problem, so if you want to lurk, you have to look like a lurker. Maybe reblog a post or two to establish yourself, and make sure you don’t accidentally look like an icon-less bot posing as a sugar daddy.

How to set up your account

Okay, so you’ve got a tumblr. Let’s take a minute to fix up the settings so that you’re not getting, well, the worst version of the site.

My advice is to start by going into your dashboard preferences and:

Turn off the best stuff first (it’ll just show you things you’ve already seen)

Turn off “include stuff in your orbit” (you’ll see terrible posts that are mostly NOT in your orbit)

Turn off “Included based on your likes” (again, you’ll see posts you hate)

Turn off “shorten long posts”. It’s a ridiculous setting that, like many things on tumblr, had potential but was rolled out in an incredibly unhelpful and user unfriendly way.

Once you’ve got that squared away, go into filtering and block any tags and content you don’t like, as that is always proper fandom etiquette. Not seeing things you don’t like is your responsibility, not the responsibility of the person posting them. I personally suggest adding the topics you don’t want to see to both the content list and the filtered tags list, as that gives a much better likelihood of posts that are particularly unsavory for you getting caught by the filters. Please also note this might need to be done on both desktop and the app separately as, depending on where tumblr is at the moment, these filters do not always carry over from one application to the other.

Now scroll down to tumblr labs. These are their experimental things. Some are good! Some are very bad. They do change, though, so this might get out of date pretty fast.

Personally, I enabled fast queue

And disabled everything else

ALSO, an important note, if you are using the apple app, you need to go in and turn off the adult content filter. No idea offhand where that is, but it means posts that include tags like “mine” and “girl” are blocked. It’s ridiculous.

Who to follow and how to find them

So, you’ve got a new tumblr and need people to follow. This makes sense! To really fill up your dash, I’d suggest the following

Find one person you like. There’s a good chance you know at least someone from twitter who also has a tumblr, so you can start there. If you’re not from twitter, or are looking to start fresh, you can dive into the search function (I’ve never tried finding someone this way myself, but searching larry stylinson or something similar would probably get you started)

Find the people they reblog from and check out each of their blogs! Follow people that make you happy

Follow some update accounts! Thinking of some off the top of my head, there’s @HLUpdate, @Stylesnews, @dailytomlinson, @HLDailyUpdate, or @neilswaterbottles (there’s definitely more though).

Follow some fanart or fic rec accounts!

I’d always suggest @1d-fanart or @hlcreators for art.

For fic, you could check out @hlficlibrary, @ficsyoumayhavemissed, or @thelarriefics.

Or, recurring fic fests! @onedirectionbigbang or @wordplayfics, which happen every year.

And if you end up not enjoying someone you’ve followed? Unfollow them! It’ll make you happier.

How to interact with posts

Tumblr is all about tags. Do you have a comment or thought? Reblog a post and say your thought in the tags. That way anyone you follow will see it, and the person who made the post will see it. This way a post doesn’t end up with a lot of cluttery additions that don’t mean a lot to the average person reblogging it, but if you browse the tags of posts you’ll find lots of interesting things. Tags can be used to keep track of things, too, of course — some people tag all pictures with who’s in them, or tag art or fic with tags that mean they can find them again. Tags are versatile! But reblog, don’t just like, and tag! The more you interact, the happier content creators are!

What not to do

Don’t repost. If you see something you like on tumblr, reblog it. Even if it’s a really old piece of fanart (like circa 2011). Reblog that old post! Reposting means people don’t get credit, and it doesn’t link back to them. That’s not cool, and in the long term makes fandom less happy.

How to cultivate a happy and healthy fandom

Send happy anons! Ask how people are doing, do question memes, say how much you loved fic/art/edits, etc.

Reblog art. Reblog fic. Reblog what makes you laugh. The more you reblog, the more other people see, the more the fandom moves! Content creators just want their things seen; every time you reblog, their phone gets that little notification and you’ve given someone a bit of happiness.

Unfollow people who annoy you. Follow people who make you happy!

If someone has a take about 1D that you don’t agree with, don’t tell them or send them argumentative anons. Find people who will agree with you, and complain to them privately. Or make your own post, not shading anyone, just presenting your own opinion and theories!

Remember that everyone is a real person. Cut them some slack when you find them being annoying. But also, unfollow. Curate your dash.

#I made this like #in the spring? or summer #and then felt like it was too pretentious to post lmao #anyway maybe this will help someone!#foggy essays #that's a tag that WILL have more in it eventually #once i write my essay about Carolina #...which i was supposed to do back when it first came out lmao

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sgiandubh · 20 days

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The case against 'sharenting'

Yesterday, an Anon @bat-cat-reader got made me think. Long and hard, far and wide - research included.

Here is the Anon: https://www.tumblr.com/bat-cat-reader/750859423333908480/lo-bueno-de-estar-revisando-redes-constantemente?source=share . I wanted to piggyback first, then I realized the issue was way more important than the person in question. And decided to post everything separately.

Loved this very matter of fact, calm Anon and I totally agree with what was said about overexposing a child online.

This sudden surge of completely inappropriate information about that child raised an eyebrow, and then some more. It begs, as always when dealing with minors, the question of privacy, as opposed to using their image for what obviously is self-promotion. And more generally, what is called 'sharenting', a portmanteau combining 'sharing' (info) and 'parenting' that was quite recently invented by The Wall Street Journal to describe a more and more widespread phenomenon.

That some parents would just love to have and even share digital mementoes of their child(ren) is apparently ok. Others, however, choose to monetize their kids, turning them into a sales argument. I am still floored at such disingenuous choices, that might have serious consequences for their future. And I am not the only one, mind you: a 2018 report by England's Children Commissioner, the leading government official competent for protecting and promoting children's rights, found out that parental digital oversharing is a high risk behavior for the child.

Short term, as in identity theft ...

... to long term, as in lost academic or professional opportunities - the 2018 warning made only more compelling by the recent AI craze:

[Source: England's Children Commissioner Report 'Who Knows What About Me?', 2018 - online: https://assets.childrenscommissioner.gov.uk/wpuploads/2018/11/cco-who-knows-what-about-me.pdf]

You'll find this very recent article from The Guardian absolutely enlightening, too. I certainly did: https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/feb/26/son-social-media-parents-children

Particularly this - I am not a mom, so Mordor bitches will certainly point this salient detail out, you see. But maybe this journalist mom's POV could give them (and maybe even other people) pause:

Pedophile. Quite chilling, right? Pedophile rings actively searching for children photos inadvertently being shared online, to feed sick obsessions worldwide (do not be parochial and think those pics must be of an ambiguous nature!). Instagram being currently in very hot water for its strange content promoting algorithm, allowing pedophiles to easily access children photos and personal data, based on exif. Digital kidnapping, as in criminals pretending to be the child's parents, for various financial or pathological reasons.

Think I am a stupid, stupid shipper with an agenda? Then so is the US House of Representatives Energy and Commerce Commission. Last year, a joint statement has been released by two if its members (and before Mordor starts screeching about 'the MAGA mommies obsession for pedophilia', let it be said it is a bipartisan, Democrat and Republican initiative), about the fact that 'Instagram hosts a vast network of pedophilic content and that its algorithms are actively driving users to this content':

[Source: https://energycommerce.house.gov/posts/pallone-rodgers-demand-answers-from-instagram-after-reports-the-platform-is-driving-users-to-child-sex-abuse-material]

It followed a long report on Instagram's less than responsible practices in the matter, published by The Wall Street Journal, not your next door digital gossip rag (subscribers only, but you'll have an idea: https://www.wsj.com/articles/instagram-vast-pedophile-network-4ab7189?st=mbga8lpdddfm5dh&reflink=desktopwebshare_permalink)

Mark this statement: 'It is clear these companies cannot be trusted to protect children on their platforms'. I, not even a mom (but an aunt, a friend and a godmother, too), cannot even start to express my disgust at the hypocrisy of barely hiding children's faces on a certain blog, but at the same time allowing rabid speculation about a child's whereabouts, based on what is clearly a case of sharenting. All the mothers, grandmothers and aunts commenting under that post would have to take a long, hard look at themselves in a mirror. And also ask themselves why they allowed their personal fantasy to get an upper hand on common sense?

That is a terrible, terrible shame. And then people wonder why is C not sharing anything? Would you share your kid(s) to that mob? I wouldn't and it is my strong belief no mother in her right mind would.

Last but not least, reckless digital behavior comes with risks, costs and consequences. Including legal ones, taking into account what very probably is some loose, rather informal agreement of co-parenting (as opposed to a stricter, 50/50 shared custody system), as per Scottish family law. Something I shall briefly try to explain, for context purposes only:

Unlike many other legal systems in the world, the 1995 Scottish Children Act has a slightly different approach to custody (or what they call 'residence'), in which the child's best interest, as well as the parents' own agreement (called a Parenting Plan) are paramount. By the same token, it does not matter if the parents were married or just common law partners, for example. This allows for less cumbersome living and financial arrangements, provided the two parties agree, and also for quicker procedures, as the law does not encourage parents to go to Court, if an agreement has been reached ('no-order principle'). Mediation and legal assistance services are readily available to make every particular case fit in the local Parenting Plan framework. On the other hand, because in legal matters all things are (must be, really) symmetrical, it is relatively easy to have parental rights and responsibilities enforced (example: issue an order stipulating to cease and desist from posting on Instagram), or even removed, in Court. While removal is a bit of a hassle (supporting statements are required, either from an independent witness/not a relative or Social Welfare Services), the enforcement is way easier and just requires a basic contradictory procedure in Court.

For example, a child's proven overexposure on the Internet can very well be successfully contended in Court, if things go South. Especially in an emotionally loaded local context:

[Source: https://news.sky.com/story/seven-members-of-paedophile-gang-guilty-of-running-monstrous-child-sex-abuse-ring-13008082 - you read the article if you want, it's brutal]

I am not saying this will happen. What I am trying to say is simply that nobody (and I repeat: nobody) should play with fire, like this. Neither the parent, nor the public. This is a plea for decency across the dashboard I strongly felt I should make, if others won't.

No shitshow, no fantasy, no obsession should ever put a child's life at potential risk like that. You see, children are rarely asked if they would like to be shown off as circus monkeys.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #Instagram #sharenting #legal #business

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yoimix · 1 year

Text

「 from eden 」

if the rtawahist theory of parallel universes is true, you are certain that you would hate ALHAITHAM in every single one of them.

it is an ambitious theory, however. alhaitham calls it fiction.

“that’s not what the algorithm does,” he grumbles, lowering his head to rest his forehead against his palm. he looks nearly as distressed as a pyro fungus on water.

“i did not draw the wrong chart.”

“you filled in incorrect values.”

“no way.”

“i can’t believe i’m here with you at 3am.” he heaves his deepest sigh yet, mingling into the cold air outside puspa cafe. you prefer the warm, coffee-scented interior, but to get your words across, you need them to ring inside his thick skull.

“well, what else were you gonna do? sleep?” you roll your eyes.

“yes.”

you pull a face at his expressionless response.

“now, let’s go over the algorithm again,” he presses, eyes piercing enough to draw you closer, and bowlike lips sporting his regular frown. there is no need for him to be here. he just happened upon you at the cafe five hours ago, just to point out the mistake in your assignment. of course, that didn’t end well. you’d rather deep fry and eat a consecrated shell than let a man tell you how to solve your problems. so, he didn’t need to be here. he just never left.

the answer to that is simple: in every single universe, he will choose you over anyone else.

not that you’re aware. alhaitham makes sure you never will be. he’s unfamiliar with languages of the heart; and no amount of your biting remarks and teasing voice, your pensive smile and zaytun perfume, will get him to pronounce the syllables right.

he looks over at you, your full lips moving at rapid speed as you reiterate the contents of your lecture. the side of your neck is exposed, and the distance isn’t so wide that he can lean in comfortably. no, if he did, his shoulder would touch yours, and his hot breath would be against your skin. then maybe he’d get to hear your words die in your throat. these few inches are haphazard, bordering the lines between friends and a face you cannot stand.

what a wonderful caricature of intimacy, he thinks.

“even if this language has the structure you claim, it’s nearly impossible to know. this poem could be dating to thousands of years ago!” you exclaim, growing frustrated, “are you sure about this? i’m starting to think it can’t be deciphered.”

you’re done with translating the first part. it is as abstruse as can be, and you’ve been scratching your head over it for the past three days. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to solve it like a riddle, or agonize through the steps of the translation algorithm to complete. though, the embodiment of agony is already seated beside you.

what is the difference between me and the sky?

hell, if you know. you’re not even sure what’s happening anymore. the letters float across your vision, little taunts in their movement. teetering on the edge of dropping out, you groan again.

“i think you should get some rest,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

your shoulders sag, and alhaitham wonders if he said something wrong.

“don’t patronize me.”

“i am not.”

“i never know what you mean, and what you don’t,” you mutter, picking up your pen again to scribble notes on the corners of the paper. it contains alhaitham’s neat explanations, arrows indicating grammar and some numbers signifying the presumed utilization years of this lost language. yours looks like a little kid’s next to his.

but i say what i mean, he thinks. is there a point to saying it out loud? his chest constricts at the idea of you curling your lips, dismissing his chest laid bare for your predefined ideas. he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. but something in your voice betrays this thought of his.

his aventurine eyes settle over you. but you bear no distaste, only mild annoyance from this wall you’ve hit. he must say, you’re a commendable scholar. the relentless pursuit of knowledge has far more meaning than simply possessing it, and he’s seen your weary form in the house of daena at too many midnights. you are self-sufficient and he’s certain you’ll arrive at the answer anyway.

“i’ll be leaving then,” he says, standing up. “i hope your darshan doesn’t find you groveling by a stack of papers in the morning. it’s rather unbecoming of their paragon.”

a shout of exasperation leaves you, your shoulders tense.

“it’s because of you the haravatat are known as snobs!” you shoot, crossing your arms.

“it is your choice to believe in rumors,” he responds, idly gazing at your form. “it reflects you more than me.”

“do you always have to be so robotic?”

“i’m more well off than most, so i doubt changing my mannerisms will be of benefit to me.”

you exhale, on the verge of exasperation. “do you ever hear yourself? i can’t imagine the agony your poor roommate goes through.”

“kaveh has nothing to do with this.” he grits his teeth.

“no one has anything to do with you, alhaitham.” you stand up, glaring at him. “to you, people are no different from cats, or dogs, or- or flies—you don’t seem to understand that our languages were made to bring us closer.”

“they were invented for communication. a group that understands each other survives longer.”

that is true. but you’re not wrong either, even if you’ve chosen more romantic phrasing.

“i think—”

“archons,” you fume. “what about poetry? and literature, and dedication pages at the start of novels? we do it for each other.”

“your own perception adds substance to sentimental texts. i cannot agree with the poets. they led far different lives than i do.”

you scoff. “your little bubble of comfort is all you care about, don’t you? pray tell why you bothered with this anyway. was it to stroke your own ego? i... i genuinely believed you wanted to help.”

that one stung a little.

“you seem to have an entire image of me already. do i have to be present here?”

you heat up in the face, nearing a boiling point. you’ll have to apologize to enteka for causing a commotion; but your mind is heavy and you cannot quite think clearly.

“i understand that you don’t bother with what people think of you. but you could at least be honest with me- without- without your damn glaring, or sarcasm or—”

“i don’t look at you with the intention to glare.” he raises his voice for once. “i cannot let you see what i’m experiencing because i don’t know what it is yet—and it is imperative you don’t poke your nose into this.”

his chest heaves as he steadies his breathing. there is nothing you can say, not when you’re taken aback by his quiet outburst.

“and i’m not frowning like you think i am. i am simply not wearing an expression at all. my collection is unordered but i mark my books alphabetically when i lend them to you. i say i bring an extra cup of coffee to have a second fill even though i know you will ask to have it. i despise the conditioning in people that they must pair up in meaningful ways for a good life. and despite that...”

he catches his breath, not realizing he was holding it in.

your eyes have softened by now, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“...if i were to end my speculations and call this love, i would be satisfied.”

you part your lips and close them again. to expect an answer, perhaps, is a grave overestimation on his part. some things are better left unsaid. it’s how languages die.

alhaitham sighs. “right. it’s too strong a word. i mean to say i feel comfortable around you. and content. though i never thought there was anything amiss in my life. as for affection, i am not familiar with this kind. and—”

you cup his face, still at a loss for words. “you talk so much. i never realized.”

“last time, you said i don’t talk enough.”

“i just like the sound of your voice.”

he purses his lips, and swallows his words. once more, you have decided to speak in a language he has no expertise in. the drumming in his heart says he cannot wait to read poetry in it.

“no more sighing, haitham. and no more glaring. no sarcasm. and no irony.”

he furrows his brows, but he makes no attempt to release himself from your touch.

“say it again. your conclusion.”

his lips part, a sharp breath running through his lungs.

“i believe this is the notion of love. every gesture points to it.”

“is your head clouded?”

“no. it’s never been clearer.”

and he lets you lean in closer, closer till your lips are brushing against his.

“so?” you whisper.

it takes him a moment. he closes the distance, and though he has rarely felt devotion, he moves his mouth against yours in a fervent prayer. carefully, he rests his hand against the small of your back, more to steady himself than you.

this makes sense to him. you’re so familiar. like dragging his fingers on his mirror from ages ago, he finds you a perfect image of what could’ve been. you and him are pages of the same incoherent book, dancing between the same two sentences.

“for clarity’s sake,” he whispers, pulling away. “i say what i mean. i’ve lived long enough to know misunderstandings are beyond my control, and truth is something to be actively pursued to gain. but i cannot stand the screen between my words and your ears.”

his gaze is focused, unwavering. it’s the way he’s always looked at you.

“i know,” you respond, after a moment. “i know what you mean. and if it is your words that you want me to actively pursue—”

he clears his throat. “that- that is not what i said.”

“—then i will do so.”

you smile, and he can feel his lips twitch.

“well, i’m no genius...”

“neither am i,” he interjects softly. “but i’m persistent. i will keep trying, over and over. and if i’m not wrong, you’re the same.”

“you’re not wrong.”

have you always looked at him this way? he thought he’s seen all of your faces before. a new language blossoms in his mind. for once, literary devices are more than just devices.

“the poets are wrong,” you state, laughing bashfully, “it’s not so earth-shattering as i thought. maybe... maybe you were right on that part.”

a small smile forms on his face, and your breath hitches in your throat. “that’s ironic. i thought i finally understood them.”

“really? then do you know the answer to this ancient poem from the sands of hadravameth?” your eyes are curious as ever. “what is the difference between me and the sky?”

he recalls the lines from a long-buried poem, and they click in his head. the sands cannot swallow words as well as it swallows life.

“the difference, my love, is that when you laugh, i forget about the sky.”

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham scenarios #yoimix.drabble #the switch in pov jesus christ lord knows i can never commit #anyway i want to treat his character with dignity and compassion despite me clowning him every day #i feel like i am contradicting myself haha #kaveh passing them by: BARF #also last part is from the the poem my love asks me by nizar qabbani

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lucss21a · 4 months

Text

The Blue Pages: Yellow Pages for the Old Web

Go there now!

Overview

Hello there again! As you know, this site directory is now turned into it's own very site. Why? Because that's more cooler and somehow intuitive.

As I explain on the title, The Blue Pages serves as an old web counterpart to Yellow Pages, an item from the bygone era of traditional telephone where you open the book to find local businesses and services in your are to call in.

The Blue Pages serves as a much niche complement to both the White and Yellow Pages, instead of either providing a residential directory or a directory for local businesses, it's a directory of old web (and sometimes modern web) sites or platforms that you could visit or use nowadays.

But wait, isn't this Google?

Yes... and no. Yes, we are listing websites to search for just like Google, and no because I will do things differently.

See, even during it's 25 year old lifespan as a big tech company, Google slowly is becoming an advertising powerhouse and not only just only search engines. Google, Bing and other modern search engines rely too much on the algorithms, which is horribly being abused by mostly spammy websites, AI generated bullcrap and more than more often than not, Reddit is added to suffixes of most tech related search queries.

The Blue Pages differs by mimicking real life yellow pages. While yellow pages sites exists, it mimics the directories for something like hotels, so I decided to go with the same style as the physical yellow pages.

In this layout, while it is only alphabetical and categorized, it doesn't rely on algorithms, as it is already relevant to a particular audience. Much of the listings on the page are included by me or from submissions I saw on Mastodon, Discord or SpaceHey.

But how do I use it?

Easy! Go to the Blue Pages site, choose a category, and find which website do you want to visit!

How about putting my own site or my friend's?

Submit them to me! I'll review it myself and would put it there within days! You can send submissions on Mastodon, Discord, SpaceHey or Email, but I can\'t guarantee that I could read it immediately.

What if I put ads on it?

You can! But it's purely limited. I don't allow heavy use of JavaScript, server-side scripting or malicious code injected in the ad. Please send your code to me on a pastebin or in Codepen, as well as where to put it.

Available types

Inline - Put your ad as a listing only! Only uses text.

Single column - Occupy a single column.

Multi-column - More columns, more fun!

All columns - More^2 columns, more fun!

Why do this?

Because search engines are designed with a broader audience and this only aims an obviously smaller one.

It's cool and much more elaborate than a list only with descriptions.

Because I can.

To have something from the physical world to the digital, literally.

And, I could procrastinate for longer periods.

So what now?

The Blue Pages is open source, in fact I made it a specification so everyone could use it.

I wanted everyone to embrace it, and adapt it for their communities. The Blue Pages will connect sites together as the directory is relevant to your niche interests, but without the invasive stuff in it.

If you are wondering about the old site directory, then it would be archived but unlinked except for the sitemap.

By this, I hope that you could reflect onto what the internet was in ye olden days, and also to have fun browsing.

With the Blue Pages, you can Let Your Fingers Walk on Water. Quite literally. Yes, we literally downgraded from actual search engines but, do you even mind that? You are in your own anyways, so why not check out the directory.

As for those curious, you can see the directory here.

And as always, see you next time!

#yellowpages #bluepages #agr #oldweb #smolweb #neocities #web

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newsiesficchallenges · 11 months

Note

Would you maybe be willing to go over the process of tagging on ao3? I've never used it before so I can figure out most of it but the entire posting process is new to me

Of course!

If you don’t mind, I’m just going to cover all of it, because you aren’t the first person to ask this.

So- tagging!

In simple terms, tags have the same purpose on AO3 that they do on Tumblr. They’re to inform you of the content, summarize and warn, and to help organize the search system. They can be complicated, and daunting, but can also be largely unique if one so chooses. I’ll explain how in a minute!

By adding a tag, you are inserting your work into a list, or a system, of other works that fall under the same category. For example: if you are writing a Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski work, and you tag that relationship, the work will show up when you search that relationship. It’s one of AO3’s best features, and a way an author can gain popularity in a fandom.

Now, starting at the top of your AO3 form, we have the rating. Now, I like to think of your rating as a movie rating. Everyone has a little bit of a different view on these, but for our collective purpose of explanations, let’s use this standard guide.

The first one is general audiences. This is a PG rated movie. Minimal language, some sexual and adult jokes that might fly over someone’s head, and little to no violence. You would let your 11yo cousin read this fic and not be concerned.

The next is teen and up audiences. This is your PG-13, TV-14. We’ve got curses going around, but not all of them. Sexual jokes, light sexual content that probably doesn’t go very far. If there’s violence, it’s Marvel movie, see blood but no gore style.

Mature is where things get interesting. Say whatever you want, have the smut scenes, and shoot outs in the alleyways. Children aren’t allowed into this R-rated movie, but we all know it’s for the 15+ girlies who are reading on their computers in the dark.

And explicit is anything goes, basically. If you’re reading an explicit fic, and you get surprised by what you see, that’s a you problem. ‘Tis the smuttiest of the smut, the most hardcore violence and angst, and characters run rampant in their actions and words.

And then we have the warnings! These are what I consider to be the most important, because a lot of these things are triggers. It’s pretty self-explanatory, as you can pick and choose anything that applies.

Fandoms is also pretty self-explanatory. You use AO3’s list of fandoms, and click whatever fandom you’re writing for. For this exchange, you would type Newsies, and select the options and forms of the show you took inspiration from.

Categories is more confusing, I think, primarily because one can never decide if you want to click every button that applies, or just the important ones. In my personal experiences, I tend to just click whatever option represents the main ship I’m writing for, and then make sure I tag anything that doesn’t fit that category in the relationships tags. You are definitely free to select everything, though!

Relationships is pretty important, just for information purposes. Most people search AO3 through specific relationships they want to read, and so I make sure to tag everything I can, just for algorithm and accessibility reasons. You can tag the romantic relationships (the ones with the / between the two character names), platonic relationships (the ones with the & between the character names), and everything in between, depending on how you want your fic viewed, and how you want it sorted in the tagging system (by this, I mean if you want it put in the list of ‘x’ (ex. Harley Keener/Peter Parker) works, falling under a specific tag). And if you want viewers to be aware of the different relationships, especially the romantic and platonic ones, always double check that you have selected the right tag (again, for romantic there’s a /, and for platonic there’s a &).

Characters are also important, but I want to stress that you do not need to tag all of the character that appear in your fics. I would simply tag the ones the work focuses around, or that have an impact on the story. It will take you forever to tag everyone if you’re writing a longer story.

Additional tags is another very confusing thing. A lot of people view them as similar to Tumblr tags, like I said earlier, and this is where you can have some originality, like the Tumblr tags. When I am adding additional tags, I will read the story as I tag it, and make sure I add tags that apply to the important bits. You can keep it professional, with just the tags that will help get you more readers, and trigger warnings; or you can have fun with it, and simply put your thoughts about the work there, as another summary; or you can do a mixture of both. I do a mixture, and will add tags that add the work to popular searches, and add a running commentary/summary as I do so. This part is completely up to you, and you can explore what you want to put by typing random letters or names (things will pop up by either most common or alphabetical order, depending on what you’re typing) into the search bar, just to see what shows. My main suggestion- and pretty steadfast requirement for this exchange- is that you make sure you have a tag for plot points that might be triggering for some. Other than that, the world is your oyster!

That’s it! Hope that helps! If you have any more questions, let me know!

#newsies fic exchange #92sies #livesies #newsies #newsies 1992 #uksies #west end newsies #west endsies #1992sies #ao3feed #ao3 #ao3 tags #ao3 stuff #archive of our own #archive of my own #ao3 question #ao3 works

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kusukixcrystal · 11 months

Text

Zen & Rika are Trapped in The MM World Part 1

I’m splitting this into 2 parts because it would just be too long. This is sort of a continuation of my “Zen is A Prince From Grass” theory and “Saeran/Ray created Another Story” posts. In one of them, I suggested the possibility that Zen is a bunny prince who is trapped in the Mystic Messenger world. In the other, I do talk about Saeran, but I added a follow-up delving into Rika, Saeyoung, and V and how Rika is trapped in the MM world, too.

In this post, I will focus mainly on establishing background information.

Pocket Universes/Dimensions

First, I have to establish that I believe that the world of MM is a pocket universe. Basically, it's a new universe completely different from a real universe. For example, characters from Nameless and Dandelion all live in a real universe. Dandelion is where the term ‘pocket universe’ first comes up in the franchise, and refers to a new universe created by The Wizard by using a large amount of his power. He did this because he wanted to be with a woman named Heejung, but couldn’t descend to Earth because he couldn’t leave his dimension. So, he created a pocket universe where he can enter it and brought Heejung along.

So, why do I think MM is a pocket universe? Well, basically pocket universes don’t operate under the same rules as a real universe. See the example I gave above with The Wizard and Heejung. In a real universe, The Wizard couldn’t physically be in her presence. In this pocket universe, it's different. Because he made it and probably established the laws of how this universe works, he physically can be with Heejung.

In my previous posts, I mention off-handedly how the MM world is ‘fabricated’ or ‘fake’. This is what I mean. It's not a ‘real universe’ but a ‘pocket universe’, operating under different rules and created by wizards.

I hope that makes sense. Now let’s get into all the signs of why MM seems to be a pocket universe.

These signs mostly manifest as the 4th wall breaks or references we see throughout the whole game. It’s not just a “hehe haha this is a videogame” thing from Cheritz. It's diegetic. No, it’s the characters literally realizing that they are living in a pocket universe. As for the references, I will go deeper into their relevance. First I will list the most relevant of these instances, and then break down why it's all important in part 2.

I won’t list all examples of 4th wall breaks, but here are some big examples:

1. Casual Story Common Route Bad-ending (4th Wall Break)

I discussed this ending extensively in another post, so I won’t get into too much detail. Basically, this ending shows how the RFA members might be machines, following an algorithm/script, and being controlled by V and Saeyoung. Yoosung says that the messenger is fake and that their only purpose is to hold the RFA parties. I also talked about how I think that V and Saeyoung are wizards who created this pocket universe.

Just a tiny addition to this point is that Jaehee breaks the 4th wall in this ending as well. After Zen and Jaehee visit Yoosung, worried about him after he started raving about how they are machines. In the screenshot above, at first, Jaehee treated Yoosung like he was delusional, and sent him to get a mental health examination. Despite saying this, her last 3 messages indicate her true thoughts. She believes him and chastises the MC/player for getting this ending. You only get this bad ending if you either don’t participate in enough chats or don’t get enough hearts to get into a character route. Jaehee is directly telling the MC/player to choose a route next time. Some people can get this ending if they try to balance getting hearts with characters, too. That’s actually how I got this ending originally because I was indecisive and kinda wanted to see what would happen.

2. Another Story Common Route Bad-ending (4th Wall Break)

I went into detail about this one in my Saeran/Ray made Another Story post. In this ending, Saeran says that the RFA are AIs. In the surface story, this turns out to be a lie. Here in this bad ending, though, Ray talks about the RFA as if they actually are AI, even going as far as to mention Saeyoung (’that redhead’), asking if we played ‘his version’. I speculated that what he means by this is the Casual and Deep stories.

3. Dandelion and Nameless (References)

The first screenshot is from day 3 of the Casual story common route, the next 2 are from the April Fool’s DLC.

Zen is dressed up as Jisoo from Dandelion in the first ss, which is apparently a play that is being adapted from a book. The other reference to Dandelion is in the 2nd ss, an animal hospital named Dandelion is mentioned by Jumin and Jaehee. The characters from that game were part cat/rabbits, so this ref goes deeper than just a name drop.

Nameless: The One Thing You Must Recall is referenced too. Tei’s Tea Leaf is one of the plays Zen starred in. This is a reference to Tei from Nameless, Cheritz’s game before this. (I don’t know where this is mentioned in the game). Another example is in the last screenshot, the password that Jaehee mentions is from the title of the game. There is also a big reference to Nameless in Deep Story that another Tumblr user named smol-grey-tea has brought to my attention.

The story that Jumin reads to MC directly references Nameless’ backstory, which is revealed in the true route in secret ending 2. Nameless is the character pictured above as ‘???’ and he is a stuffed bear. The scene that Jumin reads is when Eri’s grandfather buys Nameless for Eri. The person who gave this book to Jumin is Rika. I will talk about the significance of this later.

EDIT: Here’s part 2 btw

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butterflyslinky · 2 years

Text

AO3: How to Get Your Fic Seen

I was going to put this on a reblog of another post, but realized it would get too long and distracting for OP, so I'm going to write my own post. This is in relation to people who seem to think that AO3 has an algorithm that determines which fics get seen, and are thus making life more difficult for everyone by trying to game a system that doesn't exist.

The way to get your fic seen on AO3 is through the tag system. Not for algorithm purposes, because there is no algorithm, but because tags are how people find things! That's how the site is organized and how people decide if they're going to read a story.

Let's say that I have a fanfic where Blorbo and Dinkus from My Guilty Pleasure Show fall in love in a coffee shop, have no problems, and then there's smut. I, an attention-whore fanfic writer who craves validation, want to make sure that people find my story and that they're the people who will enjoy the fic.

So I start with the rating. I have a very explicit scene at the end, so I rate the fic "Explicit." This means that people who want to read smut will find my fic, and the people who don't want to read smut can see the red E marker and decide to skip it. I might add a tag saying the smut is only in one chapter--put a pin in that.

Next are the Archive Warnings. In this story, everyone's happy and nothing bad happens, so I will select "No Archive Warnings Apply." This means that people who don't want to see Major Character Death, Underage Sex, Graphic Violence, or Rape/Noncon can look at my fic and know it's safe for them.

Or, if there's a scene with a warning that I feel would spoil the entire story, I can select "Creator Chose Not to Archive Warnings." This means that there could be a situation that someone might want to avoid, and they can use the additional tags and their best judgement to help decide if they want to read the fic.

After this is the Fandom. Blorbo and Dinkus are both from My Guilty Pleasure Show, so I'll enter My Guilty Pleasure Show. This might bring up multiple tags, but I want the one for the TV show that ran from 1970-1982, so I'll find the one that says "My Guilty Pleasure Show (TV 1970)". If I have a character from That Awful Thing You Hate play a major part, I'd also choose "That Awful Thing You Hate (TV 2004)". This will categorize the story as a crossover, and let fans of both shows find the fic.

Next up is the Category. My story is a romance, and Blorbo and Dinkus are both male characters, so I will choose the M/M category. This is fairly straightforward for anyone who's ever written fanfics, but just in case, the options are F/F (a female/female pairing), F/M (a heterosexual pairing), Gen (a fic not focused on romance), M/M (a male/male pairing), Multi (if there are a lot of pairings of several types), or Other (if you aren't sure or your story doesn't fit any of these).

Next is Relationships. My story is focused on Blorbo and Dinkus falling in love, so I'll put in Blorbo/Dinkus, so people who liked that pairing can find it. But there's also a subplot where Blorbo's brother Gulp falls in love with another guy named Shitto, so I'll also tag Gulp/Shitto so those shippers can find the story. If Gulp/Shitto is a very minor part of the story, I can also put that tag into the Additional Tags field--put a pin in that.

Next is Characters. This is where it gets complicated, but generally speaking, you should tag every character *who plays a major part in the story.* If Blorbo's bff Thingie is the one pushing Blorbo and Dinkus together, Thingie should be tagged here. If Thingie only gets mentioned for one line, they should be put into the Additional Tags.

Which brings us to Additional Tags. This is where I'd tag everything that doesn't fit into the above categories to make it easier for people to decide if they'll like my story. I'd start with Alternate Universe-Coffee Shops and Cafes. That lets readers know this is a coffee shop AU. Since it's a happy, feel-good story, I'll tag it as Fluff. It's a story that goes on for twelve chapters and the smut is at the end, so I'll tag Eventual Smut. And then I'll tag everything that comes with the smut.

This is also where you put the minor characters or pairings. If I want to let people know Thingie is mentioned in the story but they don't play a big role, I'll put Thingie in here so that Thingie's fans aren't disappointed that they don't play a bigger role. If I mention Thingie in conjunction with their girlfriend Whatevs, I'd put Thingie/Whatevs in this field.

Finally, the Additional Tags field is where I put things that aren't Archive Warnings but that I think might be triggering to some readers. So if Blorbo and Dinkus go out to a bar and get drunk, I'll tag "Alcohol" and "Drunkeness." If Blorbo and Dinkus have sex while intoxicated, I'll tag "Dubious Consent" or "Drunk Sex." This lets readers decide if they want to engage with what I've written or if they'd rather go find a story without these elements.

Keep in mind, though--you can only have 75 tags between the Fandom, Relationships, Characters, and Additional Tags. This means you should only tag the things that are super important to your story, potentially triggering to readers, and common enough to draw readers in. You don't want to tag every minor detail or passingly mentioned character, as this will only eat up your tags, meaning you might miss something that really needed a tag, and frustrate your readers, who will wonder why you bothered to tag the blue rug that shows up in one scene.

Remember, there is no algorithm on AO3. While the results for a tag default to "Oldest to Newest," readers can change it to be alphabetical, or by the number of hits or kudos, or anything else. The people who want to see your story will see it if it's tagged correctly for them to find it.

Happy writing!

#ao3 tags #ao3 algorithm

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tumb1r-revival-initiative · 1 year

Text

Why Tumblr Should Be Revived

1. The staff is not nearly as strict about porn as before. They got rid of the failed algorithm that attempted to detect skin on posts. This was the biggest driving factor to the migration. Artists can now thrive on here once again without having their posts flagged as porn when they’re not.

2. There are also many porn blogs on here still because as I previously mentioned, staff isn’t as strict as they used to be. You can potentially view and own a porn blog on here as long as you are careful. At the very least, it can have suggestive pictures and explicit text posts. There are millions of those on here.

3. This community was like no other. This was the only social media where the neurodivergent, the LGBTQ, the furries, the “cringe” people, where ALL social outcasts found a home. People came here and realized there were many others out there just like them. Tumblr is the home to aesthetics and fandom and has a sense of community you can’t find elsewhere. Tumblr has always been meant for niche interests, many of which have been born from here. It’s fun to be a part of that. There’s a reason why a lot of people don’t like Twitter anymore: it’s because it’s mainly populated by former Tumblr users. Ever since the migration, people have been complaining about hating sensitive Twitter users. Niche community members went somewhere they weren’t really welcomed. This is fine because social media is for everyone, but wasn’t it so fun to have a place where the niche and different thrived? It felt special.

4. Twitter is going down in flames. It’s no secret that Twitter’s website has started to worsen ever since Elon has taken ownership. Twitter already doesn’t let you curate your dashboard as much as it should, since you’re seeing what other people like, but not what you like. It guarantees that you will see content you don’t want to more than you would on a social media like Tumblr where filtering content is so much easier. This is why it’s much easier to avoid discourse on Tumblr if you choose to do so. Also, no one on Twitter uses tags due to the short character count on a tweet, resulting in lots of unfiltered content coming your way. Yes you can mute words, but you definitely already have or will see art or other imagery you don’t want to see due to short and irrelevant captions. Additionally, Twitter is no longer being moderated by anybody. Elon Musk has fired the majority of the staff that regulates content violating Twitter’s rules. Reporting on Twitter essentially does almost nothing at this point. Apart from that, you have the option to remove ads on Tumblr, the checkmarks here are more colorful, you can have several blogs all under one email, and if all that isn’t convincing enough, you can at least leave Twitter as a “fuck you” to Elon if that’s more your style.

5. Tumblr as a website and app have both improved. Not only did they get rid of the porn-detection algorithm, but they also provided us with many more options to customize our dashboards. The app is significantly less buggy as well. And now you can choose from a set of a couple colored themes in settings for when you’re browsing the dashboard and search.

6. The amount of personalization you can have with your dashboard and blog is unlike any other website. It’s only improved but even before it was one of the key features that has made Tumblr different.

7. Tumblr is less stressful than other social medias. Due to how good the content filtering is, we can avoid a lot of unwanted content. Less discourse, less triggering, less negativity. You don’t have the other common social media pressures of following a certain amount of people because it’s common to hide that information here, along with the amount of followers you have. That means anyone here can be “Tumblr famous.” Blocking is also frowned upon on most social medias, but it’s pretty commonplace on Tumblr. Block everybody if you want to, even me.

Thank you for reading. My next post will be what we can do to revive Tumblr. In the meantime, please follow, like, share, comment, and reblog.

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nordic-language-love · 1 year

Note

How is drops compared to anki?

Hi there! Drops and Anki work in very different ways:

Anki (or the free rip-off version I use) is a flashcard app where you make your own flashcard decks. Each flashcard has a front and back, and you can choose what you write on them.

When you review flashcards, the app will show you one side of the card. After you turn the card over, you can choose to rate how you felt about it. Based on that, it gives each card a grade (AA-F). You can then choose to review cards based on their grade, or based on tags. It also has an algorithm so it shows you the cards you failed at more often (you can turn this off if you prefer). It'll also give the whole deck an overall grade, so you know which topics you're weakest at.

Advantages:

You input your own data, so you learn exactly what you want/need to learn

You can customise it a lot. For example, you can change font colours/size etc, add bullet points, add pictures etc.

It's not just the flashcards themselves you can customise; you can also customise how it shows you them. For example, you can choose to see only 5 cards each session, or all of them. You can choose to let it use its smart algorithm to show you the ones you fail more, or you can put them on random shuffle, or you can have it show you them in the order you created them. You can set and auto-flip timer, or you can turn it off. You can choose to see just the front of the card when reviewing, or the back, or both. You can tag cards too.

The only advert it ever shows you is one asking you to pay for premium, which is basically just a pop-up message you can close (no being forced to watch annoying cartoon bears die bc of someone failing to solve an infuriatingly simple puzzle)

Disadvantages:

It's just a flashcard app; there's no variety in studying techniques

As far as I'm aware, you have to put in all the data yourself. So you have to find words you want to learn and then put them in (there's a study group and shared decks option but I've never used it)

Unless you pay like £22 for premium, you can only log in on one device and don't have web access

I think there is a limit to how many decks/cards you can have (although I'm yet to hit it, and I have some decks with over 500 cards)

Drops is a vocabulary-learning app that teaches you new vocabulary based on a topic and then helps you review that vocabulary through various different exercises. You start by telling it a bit about how and want you want to study and what your current level is (although I'm not sure this changes how the app functions tbh). You then have a variety of topics you can choose from. Each topic has a number of different lessons. Once you've learned the vocabulary from one lesson, you can move on to the next lesson in that topic.

Advantages:

The activities are varied. Sometimes you need to listen for the word, sometimes you need to spell it, sometimes you need to match the word to the correct picture. So it's not too repetitive

It teaches you vocabulary, so you don't have to go out and find it yourself

It has fun sound effects and colours

There are challenges you can take part in, such as doing a 10-session sprint or keeping up a 5-day streak or doing 25 sessions in one month

It has audio, so you can hear how the word is supposed to be pronounced

For Japanese, you have the option of seeing just kanji, just hiragana/katakana, just romaji, kanji+furigana etc. I have it set to kanji + furigana.

You do have the option to hide certain words. So, if you already know a word and don't need to review it, you can hide it. If there's a word that's too advanced and you don't really care to learn it, you can hide it.

Disadvantages

Unless you pay for premium, it only lets you do 5 minutes every 10 hours (that being said, this can be motivating because it feels achievable. You also have the option to watch adverts to extend your session by 1 minute, and you can basically just close the app and reopen it to get this option, so you can actually study as long as you like!)

I'm not entirely convinced the vocabulary is always the most natural. I've looked up some words to try and find sample sentences and got nothing, or discovered there's a more common way to say something

You can't input your own words or change things

Lessons are locked until you complete the previous lesson. You can bounce around different topics (e.g. Food and Drink, Hobbies, Nature & Animals etc), but if, for example, I want to learn vegetables, I have to complete Food, More Food, Foodie, Breakfast Foods and Fruits first.

Adverts. Not as many as Duo has, but it'll show you one at the end of each session.

Hope that answers your question! I recommend trying them out yourself and seeing if they work for you :)

#langblr #language blog #learning languages

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musings-of-a-rose · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader

Word Count: 5700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Notes: I know. We have 2 pictures and a one-sentence movie description. And yet, here I am, being a slut for this man’s characters. @rhoorl, this is for you!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Flores Masterlist

Great. Another dinner party. I swear my roommate is trying to kill me.

“Come on. It'll be fun, Decaf!”

“You know I hate that nickname, right?”

Claudia chuckles, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Then stop being so-” she gestures with her free hand “-blah.”

“Ouch.”

Claudia sighs. “You know what I mean. Ever since Dan you just haven’t been..the same.”

I stiffen at the mention of my ex’s name. “He put me through hell, Claudia.”

She nods, placing her hand back on my arm in a placating gesture. “No, of course! He was an asshole! But you shouldn’t stop living your life because of him.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly. “I know that. But I just…need some time. And having a dinner party every other weekend is not helping.”

She blows a raspberry with her tongue. “You know you love my parties. Besides, they help you loosen up.”

They don’t. I pretend to drink while my friends get drunk, eventually leaving when the party gets too much to handle. It’s not that they’re mean or anything. I just don’t enjoy being the only sober person in a room full of inebriated people.

“And besides, Marcos specifically requested your famous tiramisu for dessert!” She gives me a pointed look, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t-”

“We can go shopping tonight! Maybe Marcos can come over to uh, help.” She winks at me, and that smirk finally pops up.

“I’ll make the dessert but I’m not going. I mean it this time, Claudia.”

I sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I smooth down my simple black dress. I say no and somehow I always end up going. How does she do that?

The doorbell rings and I hear the faint excited tone of Claudia welcoming someone in. I do one last quick hair check and force a smile on my face, taking a moment to look in the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too forced before I head downstairs, closing my door behind me.

“Decaf! There you are! Marcos is in the kitchen. Why don’t you help him with the wine he brought?” Claudia turns to put Marcos’s coat and umbrella on the coat stand, Marcos anticipating the rain that’s forecasted to come at some point.

“Wine isn’t really my-”

“There she is!” Marcos pops his head out of the kitchen, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Could you get the wine opener for me?”

Fake smile affixed, I nod. “Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen, turning to glare at Claudia over my shoulder who smiles and gestures towards Marcos before turning back to answer the next knock at the door.

I grab the automatic wine opener from the drawer, Marcos smiling at me as I hold it up. “Thanks so much, D!” Well, at least it was better than Decaf. Even though I knew he knew where the opener was.

“Of course. Do you remember how to work this thing?”

“I think so.” He takes the wine opener from me, gently brushing his fingers against mine in a not so subtle hint of flirting. He affixes the opener on the bottle and presses the button, watching as the electric opener does its thing.

It’s not that I don’t like Marcos. He’s attractive, nice, deep hazel eyes, and obviously likes me. He’s smart too, starting up his own bio med tech company with just an idea and a promise. I could be content with him, I guess. If it wasn’t for this odd feeling at the back of my brain about him, something I could never pinpoint exactly. Even so, I’m just not attracted to him no matter how hard I tried. And I promised myself after Dan that I wouldn’t settle just so I didn’t feel lonely anymore.

“You look beautiful tonight, D. That dress fits you perfectly.”

I smile, knowing it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thanks, Marcos. How’s work? The prototype coming along?”

He smiles and launches into a long winded explanation of what exactly was going on as he follows me around the kitchen, helping me set the food on the table while Claudia pours wine and passes out hors d'oeuvres for the other guests - there are about 12 of us total. He’s cute when he talks so passionately, but again I don’t feel any connection. And the feeling at the back of my brain scratches at me again, but I push it down, putting another smile on my face.

Dinner starts, an appetizer of vegetable soup ladeled into bowls. Claudia is every bit the chef her mother is and more, making even the simplest dishes delectable. When the roast comes, a recipe passed down several generations in her family, another knock raps at the door. Claudia looks around at everyone, mentally counting before looking at me, her eyebrows raised in a are you expecting someone? Question. I shake my head, Claudia starting to push her chair back but I stand, placing my napkin on the side of my plate.

“I got it, Claud.”

Conversations resume behind me as I leave the room, walking down the hall to the front door. A quick glance out of the peephole shows me a man, silky button up shirt with a print of random brushes strokes stretching across his broad shoulders as he puts a cigarette out on the front steps, pushing his shoe into it. I slide the lock back and crack the door open, his eyes snapping up to my face and the air rushes from my lungs when I meet his gaze. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and he cocks his head slightly to the side, smiling slightly. Oh shit is he wearing two chains?

“Good evening, miss.”

Oh shit I hadn’t said a word.

“Oh. Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

He smiles a little wider, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. “My car stalled and my phone is dead. Could I come in and call someone?”

I don’t entirely believe his story, but something in his eyes makes my brain go fuzzy and a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time start between my legs.

“S-sure. Come on in.” I open the door wider and he smiles at me, nodding as he walks past.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure anyone would be home. Seems a lot of people are away for the weekend.”

“Oh not really. People around here don’t actually live here. It’s their second homes.” In fact, ours was Claudia’s parent’s second home. Which is the only way I could afford a place this nice.

“Ah. That makes sense.” We stand in the entryway, his eyes scanning my face with that little smile still playing at his lips. It’s several long moments before I realize I’m the one who should be talking.

“Oh! Uh, can I take your coat….” It’s then I realize he doesn’t have one, not even carrying one.

He chuckles. “I think I’m good. But thank you for the offer.” The lights hit the chains around his neck and I swallow hard, wondering what it would be like to feel those chains smack me in the face over and over and-

Laughter erupts from the dining hall and..oh shit I never asked his name.

I tell him my name. “But you can call me D.”

“What’s that short for?”

“I…don’t want to say.”

“That bad, huh? I’ve had some bad nicknames in my time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But my name is Lucien.” He extends his hand and I shake it, melting internally as I feel how large his hand his, how warm, and my brain wanders away on the thot train of exactly what I want those hands to do. Another round of laughter from the dining room breaks my trance and I give my head a little shake, dropping his hand.

“Dinner party,” I gesture down the hall towards the dining room.

“Ah. I thought you just dressed beautifully for fun.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I glance away, tucking hair behind my ear before looking back at him. “I uh…you said your phone is dead?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He pulls it from his pocket, turning it to show me the blank screen.

“I have a charger. Come, I’ll let you use it and then you can come have some food if you’d like?”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no bother. Really.” I let my hand rest on his arm, giving it a small squeeze. Who even am I right now?

His eyes flick between mine before he nods. “Lead the way.”

I yell to Claudia that I’m getting my charger and she doesn’t question it, diving right back into whatever story she’s telling as I lead Lucien up the stairs. To my bedroom. What am I doing right now? Before I can think further, I’m at my door, opening the handle and crossing to my night stand, pulling the end out of my own phone and extending my hand. “Here. Let me charge it for you.”

He hesitates a moment before placing his phone in my hand. “I appreciate it, D.”

I plug in his phone and open mine. “Do you have a preferred mechanic?”

“For what?”

“Y-your car?”

“Oh! Right! Uh sure. Can I just?” He makes to grab my phone and I let him, hiding a smirk when I notice that the tips of his ears are red. He taps away at my phone and holds it up to his ear, ordering a mechanic to his car.

“Hey, what neighborhood is this?”

“Destiny Falls.”

“Destiny Falls….great…thanks.” He taps the screen and hands me back my phone. “Thanks.”

I take the phone from him, feeling his fingers touch mine, a chill running down my arm and straight between my legs. “N-no worries.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes moving down my body and back up. “You mentioned dinner?”

“Shit! Sorry! Yeah, uh this way.”

He follows me back out and down the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my ass and so I put an extra emphasis on my walk, an extra sway in my hips and I swear I hear a small groan coming from him.

“Hhhm?” I ask.

“What? Oh, I uh, I’m hungry.”

I open the door to the dining room, Lucien following me in. Everyone turns their heads to look, Claudia’s eyes moving furiously between us both before she stands. “Who’s this, Decaf?”

I widen my eyes at her, willing her to never use that nickname again. “This is Lucien. His car broke down a couple blocks away and no one else is home. His phone died so he couldn’t call anyone. He’s going to wait here for the mechanic.”

Lucien holds up his hand. “Hi. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

Claudia smiles, waving him up. “Of course! Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate.”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! Decaf, could you get him a plate and a chair? Marcos, scootch down a bit and we can put Lucien’s chair at the end.”

I look over at Marcos, who’s eyes are narrowed at Lucien, a hard look in them.

Men.

I roll my eyes and turn towards the kitchen, motioning for Lucien to follow me. “Come on. I need those hands.” It’s not until we’re in the kitchen when I realize what I said.

“So. You need my hands, doll?”

“I meant for the chair, but we’ll see if I can find another use for them.” What the fuck did I just say?

He chuckles, his eyes darkening. “I’m sure you’ll find me more than willing to help with whatever you want me for.”

Fuck, he’s looking at me and he has to know what he said. Lucien takes a few steps towards me, stepping inside the comfortable distance between strangers. Does he know that the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable at this point? I’m tempted to get him seated and go take care of myself before I get into trouble.

“I-”

“Hey, D. Need any help?” Marcos had come through the door. I jump back, startled. Why do I feel guilty? I don’t owe Marcos anything.

“Hey Marcos. No, I think we got it.”

“Here, Lucien. Let me show you where the spare chairs are.”

Lucien looks down at me and winks before following Marcos. “After you.”

I make Lucien a plate of food and bring it out to the table, the conversation still moving forward. I set the plate down and go back to the kitchen to get him a drink when I hear raised voices from the back storage closet where the chairs are. I can’t make it out but they’re definitely arguing.

Ugh, men.

Then the storage room door pops open and Lucien exits, carrying a chair. The look on his face is hard, anger etching into his face, but then he sees me and it disappears immediately, giving me a smile. “Got the chair.”

He walks towards me as Marcos takes a moment to close the door. “Everything ok, guys?”

“We’re great, D.”

“Because it sounded like you were fighting.”

“Nope. All good.” Marcos’s voice was flat, not his normal charismatic, charming tone he uses to win everyone over. I don’t believe him but it’s not the time to press him.

Lucien sits at the table and everyone starts asking him questions, his face animatedly answering all of them. The conversation pauses, everyone stopping to drink or eat or talk between themselves. Lucien shifts in his chair beside me, his leg brushing against mine and I gasp, trying to hide it as a small cough. But the twinkle in his eye tells me he heard me and knew exactly what I did. Not even the glare from Marcos at Lucien could ruin the mood for me. Lucien presses his leg into mine further, taking a sip of wine as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs, the ring on his pointer finger sparkling in the light from the chandelier. I can’t take it any more, the throbbing between my thighs is so intense I swear everyone can hear it. I need to get out of the room.

“Excuse me. I’ll uh…I’ll go check on your phone.” I hastily stand, pushing my chair back.

“Do you want help, D?” Marcos asks, halfway to standing himself.

“No! Uh, no. I can check a phone myself, thanks.”

I walk calmly from the room, waiting until the door closes behind me before I take the stairs 2 at a time, closing my bedroom door behind me and pressing my back against it, feeling the coolness of the wood seep through my thin dress, but it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs. I sit on my bed next to my night stand, legs on the floor and put my hands over my face. Get it together. A quiet knock makes me jerk and snap my head up, moving my hands just enough to speak.

“Who is it?”

“Lucien.”

Shit.

“What can I do for you?”

“I uh, just need to check on my phone?”

Oh right.

“Come on in.”

As Lucien opens the door, I lean back slightly, placing my arms behind me and lean on them. Lucien gently closes the door and crosses the room, his pant leg brushing against my bare knee as he reaches for his phone and presses the power button, light shining in his face. I press my thighs together in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.

“Only 15%. This phone takes forever to charge. Do you mind if I charge it a little more?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” He sets the phone down and turns his head to look at me, his eyes flicking to my thighs that are currently jammed together so tight even water couldn’t get through them.

“Let me help you with your problem.”

I swallow hard. “P-problem?”

“Yes. Your problem.”

“I..I don’t have…” I lose all track of what I was going to say as his eyes darken, slowly raking over my body before landing on my own darkened gaze, smirking at me.

“I’m an excellent…helper.”

“I..I d-don’t have a p-problem.”

“No?”

I shake my head, not even convincing myself. But then my voice catches in my throat as he gets on his knees in front of me, his fingers gently swirling a random pattern across my knees and lower thighs. My skin sears where he touches me, and I can feel how soaked I’m getting. He gently wraps his hands around my knees and slowly pushes them open, the cool air not doing much to cool me down. My chest heaves as his eyes move up my legs, his gaze disappearing under my shortened dress, honing in on where I need him.

“I think I found your problem.”

“Y-yeah?”

He slowly slides his hand up my thigh, my breath coming out in little spurts the higher he gets. His hand disappears under my dress and then I feel him, his finger sliding up the middle of me still over my underwear and my hips jolt, immediately betraying all sense of logic in my brain, the side of me that’s screaming this is a stranger!

“Good news. I can help fix your problem.”

“Y-you can?”

“Do you want me to?”

I’m still propped up on my elbows, gazing down at this man who is kneeling between my legs, hand up my dress, rubbing tiny circles into my inner thigh with the tip of his finger, his eyes nearly black with lust, my logic side screaming at me to tell him no, to tell him to stop, to play it safe.

But I’m tired of being called Decaf.

“Yes.”

He smirks, sliding his hands up further, fingers pinching the fabric of my panties before he slides them down and off, tossing them behind him without looking. He gently places my legs over his shoulders, pushing my thighs open wider with his broad shoulders.

“Show me,” he says it calmly, but it’s also commanding and I shiver.

I grip the bottom of my dress and pull it up over my hips, exposing myself to him. His eyes move to stare at my cunt, darkening the rest of the way. He moves his fingers to spread me and I gasp at his touch as he takes me all in.

“Fuck!” I yell out as he quickly dips his head and licks up the center of me, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves. My thighs try to jam against his head but he is so damn broad that all they do is weakly twitch against his shoulders as he works me open with his mouth, moaning into my cunt.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, I-” words tumble from me in an incoherent jumble. I feel one of his thick fingers swirling around my entrance before he pushes it all the way in, the cool metal of his ring brushing against my skin. My mouth is open in a silent scream, but then he pulls his finger out, adding another, his head lifted to watch as he fucks me with his fingers, the lewd squelches filling the quiet room.

He moves his head back down, gently sucking on my clit and my fingers fly to his head, twisting into his beautiful curls and gripping it as I moan his name, his fingers curling inside of me, slowly stroking at that spot. I can feel myself tightening, pulsing around his fingers as he pushes me closer to the edge. But then he pulls his hand out, his mouth leaving me and I huff.

“What the fu-”

He stands, undoing the buttons on his shirt before taking it off, tossing it on the floor. He’s not 6 pack fit but he’s trim, a small tummy poking out by his pant line that I desperately want to bite. His large hands work open his pants and before I know it, he springs free, heavy and ready.

“Take off your dress.”

It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him, nearly ripping my dress in half in my haste to rid myself of it. I unlatch my bra too, tossing it wherever it lands. Lucien pushes my legs open, settling himself between my thighs, pressing his chest against mine. I think he’s going to say something but then all words leave my brain as he pushes inside of me, splitting me open, hand clasped over my mouth as I scream into it, hands flailing around simply because I don’t know what to do with them. He burns me slightly from the stretch but I don’t even care. He bottoms out and just sits there a few moments, his own chest heaving with self-restraint.

Without pulling out, he thrusts further in, pressing at a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed. A whiny yelp escapes me before his hand clamps over my mouth again, his eyes finding mine as he continues this slow assault. He tentatively removes his hand, my mouth hanging open as jolt of pleasure radiates out from my cunt with every thrust of his hips.

“Do you want me to fuck you into this bed, doll?”

I nod frantically, my hands gripping his ass in an attempt to move him faster.

“Tell me.”

“Please. Please Lucien, fuck me into my bed I-” he clamps his hand over my mouth again, his hips picking up to a rapid pace as he fucks into me, lifting my leg over his hip to change the angle. Then he somehow gathers my flailing hands in one of his large ones, pinning them into the bed above my head as he continues to snap his hips into mine, each thrust driving me rapidly towards the edge he had already brought me to earlier. The thin chains he wore brush against my face with every thrust, and I moan into his hand.

And then I fling myself over the edge, each thrust of his hips carrying me further and further into this bliss. I’ve never experienced this, not in this way, not this intense, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing over my entire body. I feel his hand loosen their grip, no longer over my mouth and they squeeze my hips, flipping me over so quickly my head spins slightly. I bury my face in my blankets and moan as he thrusts into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a rapid pace, pushing my back down to curve my ass up further. To my surprise, I feel one of his hands snake around me, finding my clit and applying the perfect touch, perfect amount of pressure as he drives me towards the edge again at a rapid pace. He pulls me up, my back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around me to continue touching me while the other holds my hair tightly and I come, his name gasping from my lips as I feel his hips sputter against me, a mix of hard and soft grunts in my ear before he loosens his fingers, letting me drop back to my hands.

He pulls out with a grunt and I immediately feel light, empty, and a little sore but in a good way. He looks at me and I point to my en suite bathroom, still trying to catch my breath. He disappears for several moments before coming back out, a wet washcloth in hand. He looks at me, still in the same position he left me in and moves behind me, pressing the cloth to my sensitive skin. I twitch and hear a low chuckle as he continues to clean me up. He helps me lay on my back, his finger tracing circles around my nippple before giving it a little pinch.

“We better get back to your party.”

“My what?” I’d completely forgotten there even was a dinner party happening. He laughs, his hand resting on my stomach.

“Your dinner party. Surely your friends will wonder where you are.”

“Maybe. Or we could just stay here, naked, and see what happens?”

His eyes darken again and he leans forward, pulling a boob into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasp but then he drops it, sitting back up.

“As much as I’d love that, we should probably get back downstairs.”

I’m hurt, but he’s right. Soon enough my friends would send a search party. And I don’t want any of them to see this complete stranger, balls deep inside of me. Although if you asked me when he was actually balls deep, I wouldn’t have cared at all.

Lucien dresses first and heads back downstairs, winking at me before he closes the door. I quickly rinse off, careful not to wet my hair before trying to fix it to what it was before. I smooth down my dress and hope no one notices the difference. I decide to check the power on his phone before I head down, just to give him an update, expecting it to not be any higher than maybe 20%. But when I light the screen up, my eyebrows furrow together. It was fully charged. Why did he lie? Was it just to fuck me? I wouldn’t have cared if his phone was fully charged.

I take it from the charger and head back downstairs, sounds of laughter echoing up the stairwell. I sneak in through the back door, grabbing another bottle of wine on my way in as an excuse for taking so long. I realize I have no idea how much time I’d spent upstairs, but people were just finishing eating, so it couldn’t have been too long.

I feel eyes on me, but none more than Marcos. His eyes bore into me, hardening the longer he looks at me. He glances between Lucien and me as I hand him his phone, a look of realization settling into his features. Before I can say anything he abruptly stands up, mumbling something about a cigarette break before heading out on the back porch. A moment passes and Lucien pats his pockets, asking Claudia if she thinks Marcos will let him bum a cigarette off of him. She smiles and tells him he definitely will. Lucien gets up and excuses himself, heading out the back door to find Marcos.

Claudia keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing but a smile forming, like she’s starting to piece together what happened. Before she can ask, I excuse myself, heading towards the backyard to find Lucien and Marcos. But when I open the door I hear raised voices coming from further in the backyard.

“You need to fucking leave, Lucien.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you give me what’s mine, Marcos.”

“It’s not yours anymore, I told you that!”

“That’s because you fucking stole it from me, asshole!”

What the hell are they talking about?

“You say stole, I say borrowed-”

“It took me forever to find you and now you don’t even have the balls to admit you stole from me?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you!”

I hear the sound of fists landing and I close the last several steps, their fighting bodies moving into my view.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

They both stop, pushing back from each other and looking at me. Marcos tries to put on his normal charming smile, but that nagging feeling about him roars inside of me. “Hey, D.”

“Don’t hey me, Marcos. What’s going on?”

“Oh uh Lucien and I were just messing around, right?” He looks at Lucien who glares back at him.

“No. We were not. You stole from me.”

Marcos narrows his eyes. “And how could I have stolen anything from you?”

“You were my intern! You worked on my project and then you stole it to start your little start up!”

“Wait, what?” I look between them, confused.

“D, he’s crazy. He’s just some guy off the street. You don’t even know him-”

“Oh she knows me plenty.”

My jaw drops as Marcos looks between us.

“Wait…did…did you sleep with her when you went to get your phone?”

I can feel my cheeks heating up but Lucien speaks before I do. “Yeah. I did. I fucked her good. Had her screaming my name. Begging me to fuck her.”

Marcos’s mouth opens and closes, anger flashing in his eyes and I can feel tears pooling in mine, a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Lucien continues to speak.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it Marcos? To have something you want so badly taken away from you? I knew the moment I saw you look at her that you wanted her. So I fucked her first. You take something from me, I take something from you.”

Marcos stands there fuming, looking furious at Lucien, but no longer even looking my way. “You can’t just come in here-”

“I can. And I came in her too.”

SLAP!

My hand stings with the force of contact but I swallow any cry of pain. Lucien brings his hand to his cheek, turning to finally look at me, an odd expression on his face.

“D, listen. Marcos isn’t who you think he is. He-”

WHAM!

Marcos’s fist collides with Lucien’s face and he stumbles backwards. He rallies quickly, swinging for Marcos. I yell for them to stop but I may as well have been talking to the wall. The men fight, throwing themselves at each other, yelling insults that I can only halfway make out. But then Lucien pins Marcos to the ground, pounding on his face. I run up to him and grab his arm.

“Stop!”

Lucien looks at my hand on his arm and then at me before glancing down at Marcos who had just passed out. He looks back at me, his face softening as he lowers his fist, slowly standing up with a series of tiny grunts.

“D, I’m sorry, I-”

“Did you just fuck me to get back at him?”

He’s quiet for longer than I’d like, and I hate the tears that start to fall. I’m not delusional. I know nothing would come of it. I didn’t even know the guy. But a part of me had held onto some idea that maybe it was something more, could be something more.

“Not…not at the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gestures to a couple of chairs. “Can I explain?”

I sit, I probably shouldn’t have but good decisions went out the window a long time ago. Lucien sits in the chair across from me, shifting his weight forward to be closer to me.

“Years ago, I hired Marcos as my intern. His name then was Juan. He helped me with my research. I had a bio tech lab and was working on some ground breaking tech. But then one day, I come in and everything is gone. He’d stolen everything, all of my years of research just gone. And then I see his face being put up as the new man to watch in all of the science and tech magazines and I see it, my tech being claimed by this imposter.” Lucien spits on Marcos’s body.

That explains the weird vibe I’d always gotten from him. He was a lying cheat.

“So what about tonight?”

“Ah. Well it had taken me years but I finally tracked him down. And every time I tried to get close, to get him to confess he would somehow weasel out of it. But then I saw him connected to a social media post about a dinner party. I hired a PI to figure out where and I..well I knocked on the door.”

“So your car?”

“Isn’t really broken down, no.”

“Your phone was fully charged.”

“It was already at 87% when I first plugged it in.”

I sit with this information for a few moments. “So what about…me?”

Lucien’s face softens as he looks at me. “Then there was you. I didn’t expect to see anyone here I actually was intrigued by, but there you were. I pushed it aside to get to Marcos but then I saw how he acted around you, the way he looked at you, the pure desire in every inch of him. So I flirted and got close. You were hot and I figured I could fuck you to make him get super pissed. But then you took your dress off so easily and I could tell you weren’t really that kind of person and I just… lost myself a bit when I was inside you. By the end, I was hating myself for using you. I…I’m sorry.”

Well. There you have it. I was right about Marcos being too charming for a reason, a reason he had now confessed to, recorded on Lucien’s phone no doubt. I’m mad, I want to hit him but I also get it. And damn was he the best fuck I’ve ever had.

I lean forward, curling my finger around the chains on his neck as I pull him closer.

“Wanna go for round 2?”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!reader #lucien flores x female reader #lucien flores #the uninvited #the uninvited ff #the uninvited fanfiction #the uninvited fanfic #lucien flores fanfic #lucien flores fic #Lucien Floires ff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters

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chrysalizzm · 1 year

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wasteland briquette: cat boys are ruining my life!

originally written on 5/29/22. ethek n dr3 n yen convinced me. it did not take a lot of convincing. anyway this is set approximately in 2054, just before the end of the silver age and the introduction of the modern era (which happens in august of 2055). ant is catmeleon. bad is halo. wilbur is songster and you'll understand why he's here once i get around to his fic. velvet is bloodmonger and used to be the hero red velvet. fundy is funster. read the series here.

“you have to admit,” ant says dreamily, “bloodmonger’s kinda…”

“catmeleon,” replies bad, “this is a shared comms line…”

“no, no, let the man talk.” songster sweeps past, his dramatic glossy coat flapping after him. his look is very camp, and ant has told him so. “you thirst after that supervillain, catmeleon, and you do it with pride.”

halo says, reproving, “didn’t bloodmonger mimic councilman donner on national television last week?”

“donner’s homophobic, he had it coming,” ant scoffs back, resisting the urge to find the ledge of a skyscraper and giggle and kick his legs. “anyway, bloodmonger used to work here. back when he was red velvet. he’s good with his—”

“one—more—word,” cuts in funster viciously, who has been sullenly silent the entire chase, “and i’ll be canceled for committing a hate crime.”

ant watches as, up ahead, songster starts belting a nonsense song about helmets and skateboards and the listed items begin hurling themselves at the villain they’re chasing, who’s starting to look remarkably regretful. “i think that’s counterintuitive, maybe.”

“if our schedules never overlap again i’d love that,” funster shouts back.

bad chooses that moment to pop back in with a manically bright, “funster, good news! the matrixing algorithms have come back with next month’s blocks; you’re rostered on with catmeleon and songster again twice!”

ant says, “bloodmonger has really nice arms.”

funster, rounding the corner, throws his earpiece to the sidewalk and starts stomping it into the concrete.

#wasteland #dream smp #dream smp fic #antfrost #velvetiscake #badboyhalo #wilbur soot #fundy #chrys writes #catgirls r ruining my life etc #thank u corpse for the title inspo #this installment goes out to ethek n dr3 n yen. love u guys

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devantesmithpelly · 1 year

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rules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better. i was tagged by @msmargaretmurry

last song: well ive been on taylor swift lockdown for the last week but the last song i listened to is whatever was playing when i left the bar i was at last night... i dont remember what it was but the playlist slayed and i know i heard me and my husband by mitski near the end so lets just go with that

last show: im choosing to go podcast for this one. ive been marathoning paul f tompkins's old podcast spontaneanation over the last couple months so as a little birthday treat yesterday i relistened to my favorite episode for the.... 8th time at this point? it starts with an interview with ira glass and then afterwards theres a narrative improv about jury deliberations and its 4 people playing like 15 characters trying to keep track of it all and it makes me laugh out loud every time

currently watching: YELLOWJACKETS!!!!!!! i was sick last week and marathoned the entire show and its SO CRAZY!!!!! WHATTTTT A SHOW!!!!!! im not the hugest tv show watcher especially not... prestige tv? im either watching the reality dating show of the month with my bachelor watch group (we are actually off the bachelor these days but we havent found a better name yet) OR im rewatching the same 3 shows i already like. so its exciting to be invested in a new good tv show that im watching all by myself without anyones help!!! cant wait to see whatever fucked up shit those girlies do next

currently reading: i just finished reading (an incredibly overdue library book called) Harvard's Secret Court: The Savage 1920 Purge of Campus Homosexuals and now im starting (a less overdue library book called) Death in the Mudlick: A Coal Country Fight against the Drug Companies That Delivered the Opioid Epidemic. as you can see i went to the library in january planning to go on a nonfiction kick which has now turned into a finish all my library books so i can return them before i have to pay to have them replaced kick!

current obsession: i cannot stop watching sheep shearing videos on youtube. it started with cow hoof cleaning which became horse shoe replacing and i cant imagine where the algorithm will take me next but im keeping fingers crossed its yarn spinning!!! other obsessions include like... everything ive already mentioned of course. and also the improv class im taking right now which i cant shut up about because its one of THE funnest things ive ever done. AND ALSO im obsessed with actively pursuing closer friendships with the people i think are super cool. so its very exciting that you tagged me in this!!!! thanks!!!!!

im tagging: anyone who wants to play the game! if youre seeing this consider yourself tagged

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riverkloss · 2 years

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Victor's & Viking's ( Ft. Hvitserk Lothbrok and Curvy Oc)

This is my Entry for the lovely, beautiful, gracious @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for her Hot Fic Summer Challenge which you can find here. Thank you so much for letting me join! And helping me along my fic journey. I absolutely adore you! From Betareading and dealing with my chaotic-ness. Check out the other stories/moodboards from everyone else who participated.They're amazing! My prompt was Arcades! My little short story is based in 1989 with Hvitserk Lothbrok and Curvy Heroine who battle on a video screen and don't know who exactly eachother are.

1989

In the daylight, kids and teenagers with pockets full of quarters raided the arcade, loading themselves up on soda and junk food for weeks. By closing time, they would walk out with a sugar rush, or drag their feet exhaustedly as little zombies and call it a night with glory or defeat.

It was so weird to see the place so empty and quiet at the end of the day. Reality felt altered, like a different universe or somewhere you weren't supposed to see after dark. I actually enjoyed working graveyard shifts for that feeling. Restocking the tickets and prizes to be won the next day, cleaning the sticky machines, sweeping the floors, unjamming the leftover quarters out of the slots…

My coworkers scattered home, or to the movies to catch that new film, Society. I had been dying to see it but hadn’t had a chance to with my odd hours. In any case, I had three dollars worth of lost quarters in my vest pocket. Going down the rows of machines I saw Ms. Pac-Man, a fan favorite since it was installed in 1986 when Mel finally got his hands on one - since it had been released in '81. He still shed a tear here and there looking at that machine. To him, every machine had a story and I knew almost every one since I started working at Mel's last year.

I didn't care too much for Donkey Kong, Strider, or Space Invaders. To be honest,

I sucked at all of them, except for one game called Victors and Vikings. It was a one-player game made in '87 by a Danish company. In it, you got to choose between three brothers to carry out missions to get chests full of treasure in different places across the seas and fought boss characters to gain more points. I made it to all three levels: Kattegat, The Mediterranean, and Wessex. At this point, The Silk Road was out of reach but not impossible to get to.

I was surprisingly good at it. Really good at it. And I wanted to beat the game, almost like my life depended on it.

I flicked on the machine. The little lights tuned onto the main screen where it listed the names of the highest ten scores. I frowned as I saw someone had disturbed the row with my lit-up nickname. Whoever HVITGOD was he majorly sucked, only making third place. The attempt to beat my record was cute though. I gave him a smidge of credit, small as a grain of sand.

My Sony Walkman was clipped to the side of my jeans and my headphones were around my neck. I lifted them over my ears, pressing play on my mixtape. Sunglasses at Night by Cory Hart started up, putting my brain into game mode. I began humming and mumbling to the song with my eyes glued to the screen. I pressed my quarter into the slot, with the signature chime of bells lighting the screen and the words in bold black letters: GAME STARTING. Then the player choices flashed. I moved the shifter over to my favorite Viking brother of the bunch, selecting Alexander the Bear.

Two dollars worth of quarters later, I had beaten my own personal best, racking in 730.480 points. I knocked HVITGOD out from third to fourth, and then in 50 more cents, took his name out completely from the list just to be a bit of a pain in the ass. When I began playing, his name was all over the screen and the points kept going up, until I got the algorithm down, learned how to get the extra points, and discovered special glitches that bumped you up. It took me a couple of months to finally built up the highest scores, but I got too good.

I kind of dreaded the day when I'd finish the game if I ever could finish it… It would mean that the game was beat and I didn't want the storyline to be done quite yet. Or worse, for HVITGOD to beat the game before I could. I bowed to my invisible crowd with an imaginary encore in the arcade on each side of the row as my cassette ended with Cherry Bomb by The Runaways before I hit the off button and put my headphones down around my neck once again. I shut off the machine, wiping it down to look shiny and new again tomorrow.

~~~~~~

"730.480!?" Hvitserk shouted, in an awestruck panic, and started to breathe heavily, seeing the guy's name on the screen in bold black letters flashing:

THEREAPR

Hvitserk pressed his hand over his chest where his heart actually hurt. "Oh my fucking God… I think I'm having a heart attack." He started hyperventilating holding his chest.

Ivar squinted at his brother for a second and ran a hand over his shaved head before he grabbed Hvitserk by the shoulders and smacked him on the cheek, a burning pink hue searing onto his skin. "Get yourself together!" Ivar snapped.

Hvitserk’s mouth was wide open in shock that Ivar had actually slapped him. In public! In front of kids! Like a bitch! While wearing a purple & yellow Adidas tracksuit like a boyband member.

"You slapped me!" Hvitserk bursts out, pushing his brother away, his hazel eyes bulging in a craze.

"Listen, man. It was all fun and games before, some good laughs. Now we find ‘the weeper' and destroy him." Ivar tapped the name aggressively on the screen. His face was turning a deep red in his cheeks and he turned a white knuckle fist to Hvitserk.

"I thought you didn't care about-" Ivar cut him off quickly. "Sigurd and I have bets going. It's not important right now. This guy is trying to beat us, okay? The Lothbroks never lose." Ivar gripped Hvitserk’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises.

"You, my brother, have to beat this little shit, or I am going to crush him." He promised and Hvitserk cringed at him, recoiling backward a step.

"I don't get it. How is he playing when we're here all day?" Hvitserk questioned, glancing at the numbers on the screen. His stomach was cramping in pain in mourning for his game.

A kid with dark hair, about twelve years old, popped his head over beside the machine next to Victors and Vikings. "I know who The Reaper is." He chirped, voice cracking.

They snapped their heads at the kid and it makes their brains rattle. "Oh yeah? How do I know you're not just yanking my chain right now?"

The young boy blinked quietly as he thought. His black glasses were too big for his face and they made his eyes look like saucers. He pushed them up his small nose. "I’m not, but I'm out of quarters and I want to play Lady Lisa." The boy bargained. "Ten bucks. I want a slice of pizza too." He held out his small hand for the money.

"Goddamn kids," Ivar grumbled as he shoved his hand in his pants pocket to Hvitserk’s dismay.

"You're going to give him a ten? Just like that?"

Ivar retrieved two five-dollar bills, waving one of them at the kid. Hvitserk questioned how much money was riding on the game if Ivar was so willing to give ten bucks to a child for just a name.

"Here's the shit, kid. You tell me a name and I'll give you the other five." Ivar slapped a bill in the kid's palm.

The kid then held the five up in the air to check if it was real, nodding to himself. "The person comes in at four o'clock on the dot and has an alien lanyard." The boy stated and held his hand out for the other five but Ivar’s grip tightened on it, not believing a word the kid blurts. "Five is enough. I hope you get your ass kicked."

Lurching forward in a burst of anger, Ivar made the kid run off as Hvitserk gripped onto his brother, keeping him from chasing down a little child.

"Get a hold of yourself. You're 19 years old!" Hvitserk pinned him back.

Ivar stood straight, huffing and puffing like a beast, straightening out his tracksuit angrily and looking down at his Nike Air Jordans sneakers to see if they had any marks on them. "Fuckin' kids."

Hvitserk lifted his neon Swatch up to his face. "It's an hour until four. I'll pay for some pizza. Do you know anyone with an alien lanyard?"

"Only the workers have Lanyards. The little asshole works here. That's cheating in my book."

Hvitserk put his hand over his brother's raised fist lowering it. "Games take skill, knowledge, time, strength…"

"Nerd power," Ivar added as he leaned away from Hvitserk to turn his gaze to the food bar. Fresh, steaming-hot pizza was being cut into gigantic pieces and he was trying to do the math of how many he could eat in one sitting.

~~~~~

Ivar was on his fourth slice of pizza when he felt like his stomach was going to burst.

Hvitserk, however, was on his fifth without any struggle and continued on to nearly his sixth slice. Ivar really was convinced that Hvits had been born with two working stomachs. Either that or there was a real possibility that he was carrying one of the alien creatures from the Alien movie inside. He wouldn't be surprised at either.

Hvitserk dropped a glob of tomato sauce on his striped, black & white goalie t-shirt and groaned as he picked up the napkin and aggressively rubbed at it, staining the white part with an ugly orange hue.

Ivar watched the main door open and he heard the radio shift to the next song. I Was Made for Lovin' You by Kiss echoed through the arcade.

A young woman around his age stepped in.

Ivar’s eyes immediately took her in: a blue-green plaid flannel with only a couple buttons actually buttoned at the bottom, the sleeves pulled up to her elbows, a black lace-edged tank top underneath it, baggy jeans, and a pair of beat-up checkered vans.

Everything slowed down watching her sway as she walked. Ivar felt his mouth grow cotton-dry. He swatted his brother hard in his chest and pointed to the girl.

Hvitserk averted his eyes up. Cindy Crawford, Farrah Fawcett, and Carrie Fisher together had nothing on this girl. He looked down at her neck seeing the black, alien lanyard decorating it. No fucking way, he thought. His brain short-circuited and turned to mush.

"I know her… I mean, I know of her. I never really talked to her, I've wanted to though. She can't be The Reaper. Can she?" Hvitserk rambled on.

"Can't hurt to ask." Ivar smiled at his brother in a snide way. He was going to pull the 'Ivar’: flirt his way into finding out the answers. Flirting with girls. Fighting with guys. Ivar was indeed a lover and a fighter.

The girl was made like one of the goddesses in Victors and Vikings: round hips and waist which reminded Hvitserk of how he loved that level where his character, Rollo the Vicious, had to find the goddess, Idunn, and get the apple to trade for the boat ride to Wessex. He hesitated as his brother stood up, popping his collar on his tracksuit and strutting over to her as she pressed herself into the counter of the Prize Pit talking to the guy behind it. Hvitserk had seen her countless times and would have never thought she would be the one to be playing against him. He wanted to ask her out but never got the courage to.

She had a reputation for shutting guys down at each turn. He even witnessed it once. She could crush a man underneath the sole of her shoe and they would gladly thank her for it. He didn't even think he had a shot.

Ivar slid in close beside her. She was quick to step away, the look of a scorned woman set her features. She looked like a Valkyrie heading into battle, making Hvitserk feel hot and bothered. He could almost hear the words fly out of her mouth. "What did you say?"

Ivar wasn't one to recoil back in surprise or shock but Hvitserk watched as the girl pointed her finger to the door. And for the first time in his life, he watched his brother shrink to the size of a bobblehead, shoulders dropping, as he walked out of the arcade in shame with Hvitserk chasing after him.

"Was it her?! Is she The Reaper?!" Hvitserk’s words jumbled out together. Ivar nodded.

"She said that you two can dish it out in a battle in a week."

"That's it?" Hvitserk found it hard to believe that's all she’d said.

"I- I said even if she didn't win, I could be the prize." Ivar looked as if his soul had been devastatingly crushed. "She told me if she wanted a..." He choked up on the words. "-reject Cabbage Patch doll wearing a tracksuit she'd go to Sears." He spat out.

Hvitserk tilted his head examining Ivar’s face, pausing for a second. When seeing the similarity, he proceeded to cackle loudly - so hard that people stared - as Ivar looked on like a lost puppy, but still determined to win that bet.

~~~~~

Victors and Vikings was dead.

Actually dead.

A little kid put a big gulp on top of the Lady Lisa and it slid down between both and it completely fried the circuit board for Victors and Vikings. Since the parts that made it whole were nearly impossible to get from Denmark, it couldn't be revived. They pulled it out into the backroom where it sat, lifeless.

Mel and I mourned the game. I think he was more in grief than I was... He even shed a few tears. It wasn't a popular game. It was loved by few people but it was still important to us.

As I was stocking up the Prize Pit, a somber voice behind me made me jump slightly. "I heard about the game." I turned to face him and my feelings rose up to the surface.

"It was the only video game I was really good at, you know? I wanted to beat it." I spoke sadly, clutching a PacMan head to my chest.

I'd seen him so many times around the arcade. Never in a million years would I have thought that he was the infamous HVITGOD. I thought he was cute before, but he was cuter up close. His hair was cropped neatly, shaved at the sides, and parted to the side. At least it wasn't an awful mullet. Hazel eyes like his were my favorite and they made me melt a little.

"You weren't good, you were spectacular." He stated. "I was rooting for you to win!" He exclaimed loudly, making me smile.

"You're lying to make me feel better." I poked him in his chest. "But it's working."

He flickered his gaze at my smiling lips and met my eyes, all while smirking. "I'm not lying." He said, extending his hand out for me to shake. "Hvitserk Lothbrok."

I shook his hand trying to hide my smile by biting the inside of my cheek, looking away shyly and back to him.

"Do you want to go catch a movie? There's this new horror flick called Society that's in, I can get us in for free. My brother Sigurd works there. I can get a bunch of snacks for free too!" He rambled on nervously.

I nodded, amused. "Sure, I'll go to the movies with you, HVITGOD."

●●●●●●○○○○○○●●●●●●

2 00 8

"And that's how I met your mother," Hvitserk tells our three sons: Alexander, Victor, and Ivan.

"Your mom was a complete fox! Still is!" Ivar yells, tipping his beer bottle to me as I set the picnic table in the backyard. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at him.

"You're forgetting the best part! Your father bargained with Mel to buy the machine and it took three years for him to rebuild it with Frankenstein parts from other dead machines. When he finally fixed it, he proposed to me." I tell my kids.

"Well, who won when you finally fixed it?" Ivan asks, trying to get to the point. "910.673 points, The Reaper defeated HVITGOD and it was one of the best days of my life." Hvitserk smiles at me and takes a sip of his lemonade. Nearly forty now, he still looks just as handsome. The Lothbrok genes were a gift from the gods because Hvitserk barely showed any signs of grey. Only a few wrinkles here and there but still just as good-looking as the day he asked me out.

"The 90s were better! I have better stories than Mr. Romantic here. Did your mom ever tell you how she stole a cop car?" Ivar tosses a grin at me, leaning back into the patio chair.

"WHAT?!" All my kids shout in shock and look back at me.

"Mom?" Victor asked me to validate.

I do not say a definite yes or no.

"The 90s were insane, actually one or two of you could be my kids—"

Hvitserk and I immediately cut Ivar off from speaking.

"Your Uncle is trying to be funny!" I toss a reassuring smile to my children and a glare to Ivar who sits there nonchalantly. I turn, leaning my hip into the table facing them.

"Boys, come help me get the food in the kitchen, I'll get the cooler. Everyone's going to be here soon!" I watch as my kids groan, sheepishly dragging their feet into the house, out of view and sound.

"You're still a sex goddess." Ivar nods, eyeing me up and down. "That Christmas party of '95 is still my favorite. Little Victor was born nine months later." Ivar holds up his fingers in the air.

I recall the memory. Hvitserk. Ivar. The Christmas Party at Ubbe’s while Bjørn babysat. It had been a while since Hvitserk and I went out because of the baby. Then the after-party drinking at Ivar’s place… Things just happened… and then happened again a couple of times after… It was the 90s after all…

♡ Notes & Tags ♡

To be honest, I don't know where this idea came from Arcades. I went from a cute fluff story to a need to put a twist ending because why not? If you would like tagged in upcoming stories or moodboard just shoot me a comment or a message! :)

Tagging my fellow peeps @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927

@flowers-in-your-hayr @rayodelastrorey

#cherry pie’s hot fic summer #hvitserk Lothbrok #Marco ilsø #ivartheboneless #HvitserkRagnarsson #alexhoghandersen #blast from the past

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grizzlyofthesea · 1 year

Text

Strength and Resilience

Rounding out the crew is April...and I just realized that if I had simply switched Mikey and Donnie around, I would have focused on each character in order from youngest to oldest. (Minus Splinter, who was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.)

Also, a disclaimer. I don't know if this needs to be said (I hope it doesn't), but just in case, don't look to turtles for medical care. See actual doctors.

After an intense argument and a brief yet heartfelt reconciliation, Leonardo and Regiomontanus reenter the lair's common area with Raphael, only to find that the remainder of the group has sealed Pandemic away in its box. Gio feels their face flush with embarrassment and immediately ducks behind Raph; they may not differ much in height, but the snapping turtle's wide, muscular build provides a sense of security. "Guys, you didn't have to do that," they barely manage to say. "I could've gotten it. I mean, I'm the one who made this whole mess..."

"Hey, it's cool. We didn't want you to have to deal with it on top of managing your emotional situation," asserts April.

"Besides," Donatello adds, "with the way everything was going, we figured it'd be better to try something else."

"Okay, if you say so..." Reluctantly, Gio stops hiding. They posit, "But what do you have in mind?"

After some discussion, the group settles on Truth or Dare--one of the ultimate party games. It can provide answers to burning questions, generate comedy through ridiculous challenges, and introduce levity into an otherwise muted atmosphere. In this particular instance, it is a convenient icebreaker that can truly integrate Gio into the rest of the group; April still needs to get to know them, after all. Donnie pulls out his phone, enters everyone's names into a random selection algorithm, and lets fate take the wheel as he taps the screen once more. "Okay, first up is...Leo!" the softshell declares. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare, obviously," Leo replies.

Donnie thinks for a moment, then lights up as an evil grin spreads across his face. "I dare you to gargle with mayonnaise."

"On it!" Leo darts out of the room, returning mere seconds later with a tube of mayonnaise. He returns to his seat and squeezes the condiment into the back of his mouth. He manages to gargle for perhaps two seconds, then leans forward and coughs forcefully. Between coughs, he sputters, "Donnie...you're a monster..."

"I know." He relishes in his diabolical dare for a moment, then retrieves a glass of water for his suffering brother. The red-eared slider daintily sips the water as he attempts to recover. Once he recollects himself, he considers who the next victim should be. "Hmm... Mikey, I choose you! Truth or dare?"

Not wanting to end up like Leo, Michelangelo responds with an enthusiastic "Truth!"

"Ooh, I've got a good one! What's the last thing you learned wasn't true that you thought was?"

"The last thing? Hmm... This is gonna be totally embarrassing, but I only found out last night that you don't taste different flavors with different parts of your tongue."

"Wait, what? But you're, like, the chef of the family! You're always tasting stuff!"

"I know! I guess I just wasn't paying attention," Mikey says with a chuckle. "Okay, let's see... Gio! Truth or dare?"

"Hmm... Dare," they decide.

"Dare..." Mikey's head sinks into his shell a bit as he tries to think of a good challenge. "Dare, dare... Oh!" His head emerges again. "Here's one! I dare you to listen to the same song ten times in a row."

"Easy--"

"Of my choice. And I have just the one~"

"...Oh boy."

The box turtle types furiously on his phone, then places it beside Gio and plays the video he has found. From the speakers, Tom Jones' "What's New Pussycat?" begins to emanate. The rest of the group erupts in laughter as Gio looks on with a combination of amusement and dread. After a few seconds, they remember that it's their turn to select the next contestant. "Alright, let's see... April, you haven't gone yet. Truth or dare?"

"I'll go with...truth," April responds.

"Okay...hmm..." Gio considers their options for a moment, then settles on, "What's the most embarrassing thing you've accidentally texted someone?"

"Oh, no... Oh, no...! Okay, so, in my defense, I was really tired at the time. But one of my bosses wanted to check and see when I'd be able to work, and do you know what I responded with?"

"...No, what?"

"A picture of Donnie T-posing, edited to have glowing eyes and a huge forehead--like, ten times the size of the rest of his head. Needless to say, I wasn't working for them anymore."

"...Oh... Oh...no..."

"...Yikes. I knew it was embarrassing, but was it really that--"

Before April can continue, Gio collapses onto the ground and begins convulsing. Everyone else freezes in place, panicked, unsure of how to react. April is the first to clear her mind and spur the others into action. "Leo, Donnie, ready the med bay. Mikey, get Splints. Raph, you and I will stay here with Gio. Got it?"

The turtle brothers all give various responses of affirmation, then hurry to their stations. Donnie and Leo barrel across the room into a connected sector marked with a white cross. Mikey sprints outside, toward the TV room. April and Raph remain beside Gio to monitor them. Approximately one minute later, when the sea turtle regains consciousness, they are surrounded by April, Raph, Mikey, and Master Splinter. They hear sounds coming out of everyone's mouths, but it all sounds like gibberish. Their attempts at a response are garbled babbling. Even their own thoughts are merely a string of nonsense. Before they can process much else, they are assisted onto a gurney by Raph and April, and wheeled into the medical bay by Leo and Donnie.

Five minutes later, however stunted, Gio's linguistic abilities return. Their first question is, "...Where...am I...?"

April, who had been sitting beside the gurney, sighs with relief. "Okay, good, you can talk again. So... You're in the lair's medical bay. We're all gonna do what we can to take care of you until you feel better, okay?"

"It's just a...a seizure. I'll be fine..." Gio attempts to sit up, only to immediately curl up and clutch their head. "Ow..."

"Headache?"

"Y...yeah..."

"I'll let Leo know." She gets up and walks across the room, tapping Leo on the shoulder when she arrives at his location. After a brief conversation between the two, April returns to the gurney. Leo arrives a couple minutes later, wheeling an IV bag beside him. "Okay, Gigi, we've got something special here for you," he says. "I like to call it a 'migraine cocktail.' It'll fix your headache in no time."

Wary, Gio asks, "Are you...like...trained...to do this kind of...of stuff...?"

"Trained enough to keep us out of actual hospitals." He smirks, then takes on a slightly more serious demeanor. "Seriously, though, you'll be fine. I know what I'm doing, I promise."

"Okay...if you say so..."

Leo carefully inserts the IV line in a vein in Gio's left arm, then leaves to retrieve the others. In the meantime, Gio turns to April. "Thank you," they say.

April stares at them, slightly surprised. "For what?"

"For...for staying here with me. I haven't...haven't had a seizure that bad in a couple years. I kinda forgot how scary it was..."

"Aww, it's nothing!"

"N-no, it really is something... It means a lot to me. Again...thank you."

April pauses, then smiles. "You're welcome, Gio."

When Leo returns with his brothers and Splinter, Gio receives a maelstrom of concern and questions. "Are you okay?" "Why couldn't you speak?" "What even happened?"

Gio clutches their head once more. April notices their pain and stress, taking charge once more to restore order. "Okay, okay, one at a time, guys..." she directs.

"Could someone please tell me what happened?" Splinter requests frantically.

"I...I had a seizure while we were playing Truth or Dare..." answers Gio.

"Are you okay now?" Mikey asks.

"Yeah, mostly. I'm still stuttering a little, and...and I have a heck of a headache...but I'm doing better now..."

"Good," he replies, hugging them in the process.

"On the topic of your speech," Donnie interjects, "what happened? The others told me you couldn't respond to them when you first woke up."

"Okay, so... The doctors never gave me an official reason... I did some digging around online, and take...take this with a grain of salt since it isn't official, but I think I have something called Todd's Paralysis. It's a form of par...temporary paralysis that can happen with epilepsy... In my case, it happened to my legs once, but now it happens with my speech and language processing..."

"Hmm... Interesting..."

"Wait, epilepsy?!" Raph exclaims. "Why didn't you tell us you had epilepsy? We need to know this kind of stuff if we're going to be good brothers to you...!"

"I didn't think it would come up...but I guess I have been slacking on my medicine lately...and I guess all the excitement from game night kinda pushed me over the edge... I should have seen it coming... I should have told you... I...I'm sorry, guys..."

Raph sighs, then pats Gio on the head. "Just don't hide any more important stuff like this from us, okay?"

"Ow... Okay..."

Everyone goes silent for a moment, until April has an idea. "You know what, guys?"

"What?" Mikey responds.

"There isn't anything stopping us from continuing our game of Truth or Dare here--if Gio's up for it. I think I get to choose someone next anyway~"

"Hey, you're right! What do you think, Gio?" asks Mikey.

"I dunno if I'll be able to do many dares, but...sure," they reply with a small smile.

"If you don't mind," Splinter inquires, "may I also play? 'Scorpion Treadmill' doesn't come on for another hour or so...and...I'd like to spend some quality time with my children."

The turtle brothers immediately pile on their father, pulling him and April into a massive group hug. In unison, they all shout, "Yes!" With that, game night resumes once more.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt oc #regiomontanus #rise april #rise april o'neil

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