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golden-cherry · 1 year

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deal - cl16 (8/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's always nice meeting new people. Especially British ones.

Warnings: fluff, flirting, one swear word, social media aspect

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: this chapter is for everyone who send me kind words when I was feeling down. even tho I don't answer every single message, I read everything you send me. I love you.

You look desperately at the piece of paper in your hand.

You have the chicken breast, the avocado and the kale and garlic. According to the signs in the shop, two aisles down are the jars of sun-dried tomatoes that you also need. But where the heck are the sesame seeds and chilli flakes?

You rub your forehead with the back of your hand.

For twenty minutes you have been walking through the supermarket, which is so much bigger than the one around the corner from you. Ten minutes ago you put the chicken in the shopping basket, which is hanging down on your elbow. And since then you have been wandering the aisles with little success, trying to find the rest that Charles scribbled on the piece of paper.

When you left the bedroom this morning, your roommate had already disappeared. He had stowed his sleeping things in the wardrobe and tidied up the living room. Even the dishes had disappeared from the sink. Apparently he got up very early.

After drinking a glass of orange juice, you found the note on the kitchen table that Charles had left there.

"Bonjour,

Je suis à la salle de sport ce matin. I'm at the gym this morning.

Pourriez-vous acheter ces choses pour le déjeuner ? Could you please buy these things for lunch?

Merci, mon ami.

Charles

PS.: Mes amis et moi sortons ce soir et j'aimerais que tu viennes avec moi. My friends and I are going out tonight and I would like you to come along".

Next to it was another piece of paper with the shopping list for the bowl his nutritionist had picked out for him. Judging by the ingredients, Charles has good taste and for a moment you had considered buying a double portion - one for him and one for you - but the toast lying in your kitchen is about to go bad and you are reluctant to throw it away. Besides, no food in the world can beat a good sandwich.

But reading the list, you also realise that the small supermarket around the corner would not be enough to get everything.

The employee you asked a few minutes ago gave you a rough direction where you could find the sesame seeds, but he disappeared so quickly that you couldn't follow up. And since then you've been standing in a corridor that looks like you might find them here. But you've read through every label on every shelf, and although your French has improved - and you have a translator app on your phone - none of them sounded remotely like sesame or seeds.

"A pretty lady wasn't on my shopping list today, but I can be spontaneous," you hear someone with a British accent say behind you.

As you turn around, a young man is standing in front of you. He is a little taller than you and wears a black hoodie with his hands in his pockets and a black cap on his head. Although it is winter, his skin is tanned, and as he grins broadly, you see a small gap between his white front teeth.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to gauge whether he is really serious, and glance briefly at your shopping list before turning to face him fully. "An overeager man is not on mine either. And unfortunately, since I have to stick to my budget, I can't be quite as spontaneous."

His grin widens even more. "So the pick-up line was that lousy?"

His smile is so honest and friendly it's infectious. "Terrible."

The young man presses his tongue into his cheek before pulling his hand out of his jumper pocket to hold it out to you. "Lando. Nice to meet you."

As you place your hand in his, you feel the warmth of his skin. "Y/N."

Before you can respond, Lando snatches the piece of paper in your hand. His eyes flicker over the ingredients on it and then over the contents of your shopping basket. "You've been standing here for ten minutes. Do you need any help?"

You narrow your eyes and try to reach for the list in his big hands, but he is quicker. He pulls his hand away. "Have you been watching me? See if the note says stalker."

He pretends to go through the ingredients again, but his gaze lingers on you again after a few moments. "Stalker it doesn't say, but helpful stranger it does." He holds the note up to your nose. "Right under chicken breast. See. Right there. In invisible ink."

You push your lower lip forward and consider whether you should accept his help. The only thing against it is the fact that you can usually help yourself. But since he has already noticed how helplessly you search for the missing groceries, the argument is not exactly convincing.

"Alright." You extend your arm and wave it in a semicircle in front of you. "Show me the way."

Lando leads the way as you follow him through the shop. Despite his jumper, you can see that his cross is relatively wide. Not as wide as Charles, but still enough to be noticeable.

"You don't seem to be from around here, do you?" asks Lando as you walk past the cheese shelf. He looks down at you.

"I've actually lived here for months, but I've never been to this supermarket," you admit, shrugging. "The stuff on the list isn't for me, it's for my roommate. I'm not much of a bowl fan."

The helpful stranger stops abruptly in front of a shelf, causing you to bump lightly into him. You can still feel the hard muscles through the many layers of clothing. "What are you more into?" When you look at him with a raised eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "Food-wise, I mean."

"Culinarily, I'm afraid I've stayed at McDonalds level. Or frozen pizza." As Lando grins, you lightly punch his arm. "I know, I know. Like a kid."

He reaches out and takes a packet from the shelf, and as he puts it in the basket, you see that it's sesame seeds. He then takes the basket from your hand. "So I don't need to take you to a super fancy, expensive restaurant? You'd be happy with take-out as well?" He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

Apparently he can't help it. But you find his boyish charm not annoying, rather amusing.

You raise your hand and poke your index finger against his chest. "You could buy me a can of soup, too, and I'd be blown away."

Lando is too surprised to retort, so he lowers his eyes to the list in his hand. You can still see the blush that comes to his face. He clears his throat. "Chilli flakes should be here somewhere too. Ah, there. Right behind you." He leans forward a little and reaches past you. As you inhale, you can smell his perfume.

"Thanks for your help, Lando," you say as you stand together at the checkout a little later, putting your purchase into a bag. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Your smile is genuine and you're glad he returns it. If it hadn't been for him, you'd almost certainly still be standing here tomorrow looking for the ingredients.

"I'm glad I could help." As you take your groceries from him, he shoulders the bag and shakes his head. "Would it be weird if I asked you if I could walk you home?"

"It would." You've both known each other for a few minutes and for sure it's unwise for a young stranger to find out where you live. Yet something about him makes you trust him. As Lando's mouth curls into a thin line, you smile kindly at him. "But weird is okay."

His expression brightens instantly. "Great. Show me the way. I'll follow you."

The walk home takes thirty minutes, but it feels much shorter with Lando by your side. He's two years older than you and incredibly funny, which is why your stomach starts to hurt from laughing at some point. He talks about what it was like growing up in England and that although he has his permanent home here in Monaco, he still works there.

"So you're always flying back and forth? Isn't that very tiring?" you ask him. The house where your home is located comes into your field of vision. In a moment you are about to say goodbye and somehow you have a feeling that he would make an attempt to ask for your number.

"It's very exhausting," he confesses, but shrugs. "But you know yourself what it's like to live here. Monaco is beautiful and I love it. Besides, many of my friends live here. It's definitely worth the stress for me."

You stop at the front door and Lando's smile disappears from his face as he realises that your time - for now - is up. He hands you your groceries, which he's been carrying for you like a gentleman for the last half hour.

"Thank you. For your help and the nice company," you thank him and fish the front door key out of your pocket.

Lando puts his hands back in the pockets of his jumper, undecided whether to hug you goodbye or not. "I have to thank you." He pulls his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. "Can I see you again? Maybe for dinner? I'll get your favourite can of soup too," he grins and you have to laugh out loud.

"I'd love to," you reply. Why green eyes and dimples suddenly flash in the back of your mind, you don't know.

"Great. Do you have Instagram?" he asks and you look at him, confused. He raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck nervously with it. "I'd ask for your number, but I don't think you're someone who gives out their number to helpful strangers just because they're friendly."

You turn your head and point to the front door. "Well, you already know where I live, after all. And yet you ask for my Instagram?"

He licks his lips once with his tongue. "I didn't mean to be too forward."

You look down at your shopping bag, then back up at him. "You? Forward? No way."

You tell him your Instagram name and he saves it before you say goodbye with a hug that, in retrospect, you might find a little too brief. But Lando doesn't seem to want to cross any lines, which is why he only puts one arm around you to pull you close for a moment, not pressing you tightly against him but leaving some space between you.

"I'll get back to you," he says as you put the key in the door lock and turn it. "Promise."

When you enter the apartment minutes later, Charles is sitting on the couch, staring at his laptop, which is on the coffee table in front of him. You feel his gaze on you as you close the door behind you and slip off your shoes.

"Bonjour, Y/N." He gets up and follows you into the kitchen, where you take the groceries out of the bag and place them on the countertop. "Thank you for shopping. Did you sleep well?"

You did indeed. Whether it was the wine or the fact that you really enjoyed your evening with him, you don't know. When you woke up this morning and found that Charles had already left, you had been a little too relieved. The thoughts you harboured towards him last night make you feel guilty, so you decide to repress them and forget about them.

Everything that happened last night was purely amicable, which his "mon ami" on the note also confirms. Secretly, you are glad that he sees it that way too. If he were to give you signs of being interested, you would have to think seriously about the whole situation. And you don't want that.

You're happy living with Charles. And even though you've only known each other for two days, you're sure he's a better friend than anyone else has ever been. No one in your old group of friends had ever been so friendly, so helpful, so caring.

If that's how friends behave, then you never really had any.

"Well," you answer him. "I'm still alive, although I didn't lock the door yesterday. That certainly lets me sleep well."

Charles smiles and reaches for the chicken breast, which he rinses and seasons as you put a pan of oil on the hob. "Or maybe I just want you to feel safe. And someday, when you're not expecting it, I'll catch you," he jokes.

"And that's exactly why I was serious about my offer last night," you return, watching as he puts the chicken into the hot oil. You hear it hiss and bubble. "That you can sleep in bed tonight. I don't mind. After all, it's your bed. And it's only fair that you use it."

Charles turns the chicken in the pan and looks at you. "And you're not just doing this so I won't murder you while you sleep?" His grin widens.

"That, my friend, is a nice side effect."

While the chicken sizzles away, you prepare the avocado and Charles the kale. "It's all right, Y/N. It's only been the second night on the couch. And I promise you nothing will happen that would make you lock the door."

"But last night you -"

"Last night the wine was talking out of me when I sent you the picture," he interrupts. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." His smile is gentle. "That's what we agreed and that's what we'll stick to."

"That we agreed, I know," you confirm, digging a bowl out of the cupboard. Charles fills it with the ingredients and finally puts the roasted chicken on top. You turn off the hob. "But I don't think we have to stick rigidly to that rule for this," you point to the space between you, "to work. We're friends, not strangers. And as your friend, I can't have you breaking your back."

You see Charles swallow before turning away and picking up the bowl. Apparently he doesn't know what to say in response, because he changes the subject as you sit down on the couch together. "So, are you coming tonight? We were going out for dinner and then to a club. You don't have to come if you don't want to, of course, but I'd love to introduce you to my friends. We're a cool group and I think you'd fit in quite well." He spears a piece of avocado with his fork. "Besides, maybe I can take your mind off your asshole of an ex-boyfriend that way."

That's right. There was something.

You haven't had to think about him since last night. About him calling you all the time and spoiling your mood. That he cheated on you a while back and broke your heart.

Charles managed, with just a film and his company, to make you forget the pain and anger. In his presence you felt comfortable, warm, which was perhaps also a little due to the wine. And as you thought back over the evening, a feeling spread through you that you could not describe.

The only word you can think of to describe this feeling is Charles.

"I didn't mean to remind you," your roommate says softly when you don't answer him. His eyes are fixed on his food. "Sorry."

You shake your head, more to let him know that your thoughts are not about your ex-boyfriend, but about Charles's kindness and care, but apparently he takes it as accepting the apology. He exhales in relief.

"So? Are you coming with me later? With my friends and me?", Charles asks again.

Isn't it too early to meet his friends? You two haven't known each other for very long either. But after all, you would be there as his roommate slash friend, not as his girlfriend. So for him, there's no reason why you shouldn't be there. So there is none for you either.

"Do I need to wear anything nice? My wardrobe isn't exactly the most elegant," you confess, pointing to the oversized jumper hanging from your shoulders and the black leggings down your legs.

Charles' gaze moves from your face, across your torso, down further to the tops of your feet, which are inches away from his. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You look beautiful in anything."

You hope he doesn't notice how hard you have to swallow the lump in your throat. "Then I'll come with you."

Satisfied, Charles puts a piece of chicken in his mouth and chews on it. As his cell phone vibrates on the table in front of you, he stiffens a little.

From your position you can see that an unknown number is calling him. And you can well understand his reaction to it. You definitely wouldn't answer a call either if you didn't know who it was from. A short time later the phone is silent again and the screen goes black again. Charles visibly relaxes.

"I think calls from unknown numbers are totally nerve-wracking," you try to lighten the situation a little. "There was a time when I let the phone keep ringing, but now I just press unknown callers away."

Charles looks to you. "Would you press my call away?"

You draw your eyebrows together. "Well, since I don't have your number, I probably would."

Your roommate presses his tongue into his cheek. "Then it would be better if I gave it to you, no?"

Without a word, you hand him your unlocked phone - which looks really puny in his big hands - so he can punch in his number before calling himself. As he hands it back to you, he picks up his own phone to put your number in, deleting the unknown call.

"Give me your Instagram, please."

You look at him uncertainly, but give him your name. "Do you need anything else? My credit card number? Birth certificate? National insurance number?"

"No, you dickhead." He taps away on his phone and a moment later a notification pops up on your screen.

bawsixteen started following you

You open the app and click on his account and on the "Follow" button and a few moments later his entire profile is visible to you. He hasn't posted many pictures, some you recognise from Jori's place, but one in particular catches your eye.

"So, tonight we're going out for dinner. Around eight, so we have to leave around around quarter to." Charles puts the empty bowl on the table and turns to you. "I have to leave in a few minutes. Will you be okay on your own until then? I don't think I'll be gone too long."

You wonder if he's going to the woman he spoke to on the phone yesterday. "I'm an adult, Charles. I'll be fine," you smile. "Maybe by then I'll find a nice potato sack to wear later."

Charles laughs, gets up and goes into the kitchen to wash the bowl. "If you can find a second one that might fit me, bring it along. Then we could go in matching clothes. That would be something." You hear him turn on the tap at the sink. "Well, if you find one, you can call me."

"As long as you promise to answer." You turn and lean your arm over the back of the couch to watch him. His back muscles stand out under his shirt and you can see them moving.

Charles looks over his shoulder at you and smiles. "Deal."

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bawsixteen: 📍📸 the most beautiful place in Monaco

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc instagram au #carlos sainz #lando norris

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papaya-twinks · 17 days

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red hot chilli 🌶️ - l.n - part 2

Warnings: slight obsessiveness, kinda stalking, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

other parts

“Ah, there you are, Y/N,” a voice said behind Lando, and he looked up, seeing his friend Carlos standing behind him. Carlos knew who you were? Lando was not about to ruin any chance he could possibly have with you in front of Carlos.

“Lando, this is my little sister, Y/N,” Carlos said, his familiar Spanish accent seeping through as Lando’s eyes widened. Sister?! Oh fuck…out of all the girls Lando decided to have a major ass crush on, it just had to be Carlos’ sister.

“Less of the little,” you said with a click of your tongue, snapping Lando out of his thoughts about you. It seemed to all be coming back…the crush he’d had on you when Carlos was in McLaren…how could he forget you so easily?

Well, it was hardly his fault. After all, you had had your nose buried in a book half the time, and all he could ever see was whatever renaissance book cover you had up. It was cute, to him, how you always had yourself buried in a book.

“Yeah, we, uh, we’ve met,” Lando said, his hand scratching on the back of his neck. “Yeah, he walked into a pole,” Alex giggled from behind you as Lando shot her a glare. “Too busy staring at something else,” she continued with mock wistfulness in her voice.

“Do shut up,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his perfect, chocolate curls. “Well,” Lando said to Carlos with his usual, lopsided grin, “I best be off now. Need to walk my sunflower,” Lando mumbled, trying not to seem suspicious and failing miserably.

And so, with a sheepish and half-apologetic smile to you, he left, speed-walking his way down the pit lane and towards his motorhome. Oh fuck….no, he could feel his old crush coming back…but was he entirely against it? Not at all.

As much as Lando wasn’t entirely alright with the idea of you being the sister of his best friend (and on-track rival), it made finding your socials much easier. Stalking? Exactly the word. In Lando’s mind (more to convince himself this wasn’t a bad thing), it was just ‘researching’.

y/n.sainz

Cute. Lando was sitting in his room, the curtains drawn closed, his laptop perched on his lap. He’d changed out of his team polo and into a comfy plain white t-shirt and light grey joggers. “Wow…” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through your profile.

There were hundreds of photos, some of you with your books, some of you in front of beautiful pieces of renaissance art (though Lando found you a hundred times prettier). Chewing his lip, he clicked the bright blue ‘sign up’ button in the corner, and entered his email.

How the hell could he message you out of the blue and say ‘Hi, I’m Lando Norris’? Absolutely not. In the box labelled ‘first name’, he entered the name ‘Luka’, and left the surname blank. It was the first name he could come up with.

Tapping his fingers onto the keyboard, he waiting so few seconds for the app to load, and then stared at the new, blank account. He changed the default profile picture to one of a cute puppy he found online (girls loved dogs, right?).

Luka: Hi! Is this Y/N?

Lando had formulated a plan - in which he would pretend he was looking for a Y/N he’d ‘met at a club’, and he’d ’accidentally’ messaged the wrong girl. Lando’s breath hitched for a second as he saw three pale grey dots appear on the bottom of the screen. And then…

Y/N: Hi! I’m busy right now, but I’ll get back to you soon!

…an automated message. “Fuck,” Lando cursed to himself, he should’ve known! You were a gorgeous girl, of course you’d have hundreds of guys (and probably girls too), trying to get into your DMs.

He was damn lucky you hadn’t tuned off your DMs. All he could do was stare at the message and hope maybe you actually would reply and wouldn’t shut him off as some guy who wanted to try their luck with you. And then another message…

Y/N: Hi, this is Y/N, how can I help?

Wow. How the hell was Lando in awe of a damn message? Everything about you was so fucking hypnotising, and Lando couldn’t deny that he loved it. He did. It was enchanting…god he was falling for a girl he’d seen for a few seconds…plus the years of McLaren before.

Luka: Hey, I’m looking for a Y/N I met at a club, is that you?

“Please, please, please don’t block me…” Lando thought to himself, hoping you wouldn’t. He hadn’t through that through. What if he messaged you and you just blocked him? Fuck!

Y/N: No, I haven’t met a Luka at a club anytime soon, sorry!

Luka: ah that’s shit, sorry to bother you

Y/N: it’s totally fine, it’s nice to finally have someone who isn’t sending dick pics or something haha

Luka: don’t worry, haha, I’m not here to do that!!

Y/N: thank god, finally haha :)

Luka: well, it’s nice to meet you y/n :), your photos are rework pretty btw

Y/N: you as well, and thank you!! your puppy’s really cute too :)

There was this fuzzy little feeling inside of Lando, one he couldn’t quite place as he bid you goodnight, telling you he’d message you again the next day. Like butterflies were fluttering round his body.

And so he closed his laptop, going to bed instead, trying to keep you out his mind. When he’d see you next? He didn’t know, he didn’t care either. Well he cared, yes. But he knew he could talk to you…even if you weren’t there in person.

How he wished you’d come to the next race in Japan…and then all the other races…and he’d charm you so well…make you his. In less than a day, you had already sent Lando into a feral spiral, his mind thinking over nothing but you and your pretty face.

There was a part deep down inside of Lando that felt a little…guilty for doing this. Like he was tricking you and making you think he was someone he wasn’t…but the feeling of desperation was overtaking it way quicker than Lando ever wanted.

And, well…Lando wasn’t sure if it was desperation. The more he stared at your photos, the more he became hypnotised, fixated on one thing. You. This was desperation. No. This was an obsession.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #f1

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coquettetoji · 11 months

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{💌} ARMIN ARLERT MOODBOARD

★ general armin hcs ★

— sweetest soul who is 100% down to earth, will scold you for not recycling your fork into the correct trash can and will pick up plastic / any trash on the ground

— nerdy golden retriever boy, and is the biggest people pleaser

— played hockey growing up and in college, he’s a right winger

— reads a shit ton of books, will press pretty and colorful flowers he finds outside into the book spine to save it

— is academically and naturally smart, gpa is a strong 4.2, majors in business, economics, or biology, some smart shit like that ( will grow up to be that hot rich dad every single mom wants )

— SLEEPER BUILD 🗣️🗣️AND A V LINE🗣️🗣️

— hands are big but they’re like bony and soft, he also plays piano so he’s good with his hands *moan*

— his most used app is spotify, google classroom, and messages

— lana del rey coded. i will argue with anyone who thinks otherwise.

— listens to cigarettes after sex, clairo, and this one random 63 hour playlist called ‘band cafe soft jazz music’

— speaking of cigarettes, armin also smokes cigarettes (ik i’m sorry) but this guy is a student athlete, ofc he’s gonna have to de-stress somehow

— drives the newest model of a white range rover with beige interior

— 6’1 teddy bear with attachment issues

— speaks french fluently

— so so so soft spoken like you will never see him yelling at another person, even when he’s frustrated

— also doesn’t like cursing, will give someone a quick glance if they cuss but won’t mind it

— has a gold chain around his neck, yes the slutty kind

— came from old money 🤭🤑, he dresses like it too i’m talking quarter zips, sweaters, khakis, and neutral colors, wears his gold thin wire framed glasses occasionally

— knows all girl shit bc of his little sister (who he adores) he learned how to take care of her so he’s really reliable when it comes to treating girls right

— his phone case is the apple silicone one that’s cream color, keeps one of his credit cards in the case behind his phone

— phone screen is him and his puppy ( spot the difference game for everyone 👍 )

— every woman he knows or did a favor for all say “his mother raised him right”

— the most organized person ever, his whole pantry would labeled and organized like khloe kardashian’s

— eren and armin are 100% that black cat golden retriever duo, take a wild guess on who is which lol

— 2 deep dimples on his cheeks that pop out when he smiles, also has light freckles dusted on his nose n around it, has the straightest whitest teeth + an adorable smile **he’s so grateful for braces existing

— overall the most genuine human out there, no detection of fuck boy here 😁😁😁

{💌} new message from mica

armin is actually my baby i love him so much i need me a soft spoken tall nerdy blonde white boy in my life now

#armin x reader #armin arlert #armin aot #armin x y/n #armin fluff #attack on titan #aot fluff #aot headcanons #aot moodboard #armin headcanons #aot smau #aot #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #armin x you #attack on titan x reader

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cal-kestis · 1 year

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HOW TO: Make an iPhone Layout + Downloadable Template

Hi! I've gotten a few messages asking for a tutorial on my iPhone gifsets — but instead of only doing a tutorial (that would probably be triple the length this one already is), I decided to turn my layout into a template with all the bits and bobs! In the "tutorial" under the cut, I'll share everything you'll need, a free template download, and quickly go over how to use this template. :)

Disclaimer: This template uses Video Timeline and this tutorial assumes you have a basic to intermediate understanding of Photoshop.

PHASE 1: THE ASSETS

1.1 – Download fonts. These are the fonts used for all assets I've included in my template: – SF Pro or SF Pro Display (Regular, Medium, Bold): Either version works, they look nearly identical. You can download directly from https://developer.apple.com/fonts/ or easily find it via Google – Bebas Neue: Free on Google Fonts, Adobe Fonts, and dafont – Times New Roman (Bold): Should be a default font in Photoshop

Make sure to download and install any of the fonts you don't already have before opening my template. That way, once you open the template file, all the settings (font size, weight, spacing, color, opacity, etc.) are as intended.

1.2 – Download my template. Before you use my template, all I ask is that you don't claim or redistribute it as your own and that you give me proper credit in the caption of your post. Making these iPhone gifsets takes me a longgg time and turning this layout into a template took several hours too.

DOWNLOAD TEMPLATE VIA KO-FI ← This template is completely free to download (just enter $0), but if you feel inclined to tip me, I appreciate you! 💖

BTW this template also includes some of my frequently used icons!

NOTE: If, for some reason, you open the template and see the pop-up shown below, click "NO" — otherwise, the fonts will be all messed up:

And if you see this triangle with an exclamation point by a text layer, don't double-click it — it'll mess up the font as well:

PHASE 2: THE GIFS

I'm just going to briefly go over gif sizes and my recommendations. Also, keep in mind when grabbing your scenes, you'll want all of these gifs to be the same amount of frames.

2.1 – Background Gif: 540 x 540 px. I recommend this size so you have a good amount of visibility for the gif behind the iPhone wallpaper. I also recommend making this black and white (or in my case, black and white with a slight blue tint — idk I just like the way it looks) so the wallpaper coloring can stand out.

2.2 – Wallpaper Gif: 230 (w) x 500 (h) px. Keep in mind the very narrow dimensions of the wallpaper! And also keep in mind that you'll have a bunch of apps and widgets covering the image. I try to use wide shots (or layer my clips into looking like wide shots). Also, keep in mind your color scheme for your set and your character's aesthetic! I tend to focus on one or two colors for the wallpaper.

I usually position the wallpaper to the side with 20px bumpers, so there's lots of space to see the background:

2.3 – Large Photo Widget Gif: 201 (w) x 96 (h) px.

2.4 – Small Photo Widget Gif: 94 x 94 px.

PHASE 3: THE TEMPLATE – "IPHONE" FOLDER

In this section, I'll try to quickly walk you through how to use this template and some bits that may require extra instructions. I'll be going through each folder from top to bottom.

3.1 – Status Bar. Time, Service, and WiFi are pretty self-explanatory. In the Battery folder, you can use the shape tool to adjust the shape layers labeled "Fill (Adjustable Shape!)" to customize the battery level.

3.2 – Message Notification. Again, these are pretty self-explanatory. I've already masked the circle for the contact photo, so you can simply import any photo and use the transform tool to shrink it down. The circle is 24x24 px. If you don't want to use a photo, there's another folder called Default Initials.

If your message text can't fit the text box, the message should end with ellipses which is how iOS caps off long texts.

3.3 – Blurred Banner (IMPORTANT) This folder is easy to miss because there's only one placeholder layer in there. On iPhones, the area behind a banner notification and the dock get blurred (including the wallpaper and any apps).

What to do: Make a duplicate of the apps in Row 1 and/or widgets that intersect the message banner, convert them all into one smart object, apply a Gaussian Blur filter (Radius: 3.0 pixels) on the smart object, and move the smart object into this masked folder!

(There's another masked folder in the Wallpaper folder for the dock which I'll go over in that section.)

3.4 – Apps Turn off the yellow guide if you don't need it to keep things aligned and turn off layers you don't need by clicking the eye icon. Replace the "App" placeholder text with your app name, change the color or gradient of the square to compliment your color scheme, and add your custom app icon overlay!

If you can't find an app icon you need from the ones I provided, flaticon.com is a great resource. Also, if you can only find the filled version of an icon, check out this tutorial for how to make any text or shape into an outline.

Also, each app folder has 4 notification bubble options (1-4 digits). Again, you can toggle these on and off as you need!

3.5 – Big Widgets I like using these when my wallpaper has A LOT of negative space to fill. I included the Photos and Books widgets in my template, but there are lots of widgets available on iPhones. You can check some of the other ones I've done here, or if you have an iPhone, simply try adding some widgets to your phone!

There are also widgets bigger than these, but they would take up half of the phone screen which is why I don't use them for these edits.

3.6 – Small Widgets The only thing I'll say about these — because they're pretty straight forward — is there are a lot more weather themes than I included in my template. Also, if you set your character's phone to evening, the weather widget will show a dark background (sometimes with stars), so keep that in mind.

Speaking of, I've included Light Modes and Dark Modes for, I think, every applicable widget.

3.7 – Page Dots These barely perceptible dots indicate that your character has more pages of apps than shown in your gifset (so if an anon tries to come at you, you can just say "it's on the next page of apps" /j /lh)

3.8 – Dock Again, the dock has notification bubble options and I've included the default app designs, custom filled designs, and custom outlined designs for iMessage, Phone, Email, and Safari (there's also a FaceTime alternative if that's how your character rolls). These are usually the apps people keep in their Dock, but this is fully customizable too. So, if your character is, like, super obsessed with Candy Crush or something and needs it in thumb's reach — you can put it in the dock.

3.9 – Wallpaper This whole folder is masked already to a 230x500 px rounded rectangle.

Inside, you'll find another "Blurred Portion" folder for the area behind the message banner notification and the dock.

What to do: Duplicate your gif layer and place it in this folder, remove any sharpening filters, and apply a Gaussian Blur filter (Radius: 3.0 px). Be sure to add any coloring/adjustment layers ABOVE this folder and your original sharpened gif layer.

PHASE 4: EXPORT

We made it!

I hope this template makes it super easy for you to recreate this layout! If you decide to try it out, feel free to tag me with #usernik.

If you notice anything wonky about the template, kindly let me know so I can fix it! And if you have any questions about how to use this template, please don't hesitate to send me a message! I just ask that you try to be specific in your question so I'm able to answer you the best I can!

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my-proof-is-you · 7 months

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Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 1

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

You

You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions.

You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment.

“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.

You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.

“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face.

“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”

“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”

You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”

“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”

You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away.

After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it.

You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.

You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen.

Two Years Earlier - You

It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone.

He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention.

“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you.

“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”

You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people.

“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone.

“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.

“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”

He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.

“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.”

“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something.

“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.

“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”

He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.

You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by.

“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.

“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor.

“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”

“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”

You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”

“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door. I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2

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beardedmrbean · 1 year

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The argument that America, and Americans, are irredeemably racist just took a significant blow.

Earlier this year, a working paper from Harvard Business School that was written by three scholars at the University of California, Berkeley, Harvard, and the University of Washington looked into the effect of Yelp making the "race of a set of Black business owners salient to customers" — in other words, labeling certain businesses as "black-owned."

The results? They found that “this feature substantially increased demand for Black-owned businesses — in the form of more calls to the restaurant, more delivery orders, and — using cell phone data from a different platform — more in person visits to the restaurant.”

This is quite interesting, as I have been reliably informed by some of our leading voices on race that the United States is one of the most racist places in the world. Author of How to Be an Antiracist, Ibram X. Kendi, wrote that in all the research he has done, he has not seen a "singular historical force arriving at a postracial America” (as in, he does not believe there has been any racial progress). Not only that, but all whites are racist, too. As CNN wrote, “If you’re a white person in America, social justice educator [and bestselling author of White Fragility] Robin DiAngelo has a message for you: You’re a racist, pure and simple, and without a lifetime of conscious effort you always will be.”

But if America was just as stubborn, and Americans were just as rotten to the core, as these supposed thought leaders suggest, then there is no reason to believe businesses would see any boost when the race of its owner was made public. In fact, for their theses to hold up, we would have to observe a significant drop in patronage. The owners of these businesses would be completely opposed to being labeled “black-owned” if they thought it would reduce sales. That this is not the case demonstrates the extent to which we have progressed, contrary to the claims of Kendi.

The point of discussing this study is not to suggest that we ought to expand the use of racial classifications of businesses on apps such as Yelp. Rather, it is solely to point out that the narrative of America as having made no progress over the past 400 years is simply wrong.

We continue to face a number of problems related to race and racism. There is no denying that. But that is by no means the whole story. The fact we have gone from a country with a widespread practice of slavery to one where 94% of people approve of marriages between white and black people is no small thing. For reference, in 1961, only 4% approved of such marriages. No progress? You have to be joking.

The shtick of Kendi, DiAngelo, and their fellow travelers has undoubtedly made them quite rich. But it has taught us very little that is actually valuable about the state of race in America.

#nunyas news #most people i've encountered that have issues #with interracial marriages aren't white

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kazaleas · 3 months

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Its quiet. You think.

You don't even remember what time it is when you're sitting at the couch and staring at the big rectangle tv, some old news channel playing on the lowest volume setting, spewing talk about some brand recall you could care less about. It's silent here, the only sound you can focus on is the sound of the air vents blowing and the ringing of the lamp dying in the corner.

The time ticks by, broken clock in the middle of the left wall that has long lost it's ticking sound since you bought this apartment, forever stuck on 2:48pm. You don't know what time it is, but judging by the way the sun is peeking through the window shades in soft blues, it's probably early morning in the AM, and you've pulled another sleepless night of the week.

How long will it be like this? You ask yourself.

The ceiling only gets so interesting after awhile, and the fiddling of fingers and clicking of nails can only drive you crazy for so long. And still, you sit there on the leather couch that sticks to your bare skin from how long you've been in the same spot, staring up and waiting for something to happen. Something, anything. But nothing. You're tired, you want to close your eyes and maybe you'll wake up, or maybe.. the latter option.

You glance to the phone you've left on silent since Monday, reaching your hand out to it while it sits collecting dust on the coffee table. Your arms makes a cracking sound when you finally move it after hours, fingers wrapping slow around the cold black screen and pulling it towards you. The light the screen makes is nearly blinding, but a slow adjust to the brightness and you can blink away the dark spots that had formed in your eyes.

The phone reads a page of notifications formed in paragraphs. Message after message, call after call, and it goes on and on. The purple you recognize so easily, the familiar smile of the profile picture you set with the 3 fingered hand formed in the shape of a heart, and matched with the hand of a faceless person next to it, which happens to be you. The messages are all from him, the name header labeled with 2 purple hearts and a robot emoji, and the name you've been accidentally ignoring since you stopped coming outside of these familiar walls that you hide in.

Each message starts off calm, collected, worried enough that it's fair. It goes downwards after that, spam calls and more than a triple text, hour after hour, voicemails filling up your inbox, even emails. Every single app he has access to you on is filled to the brim with message after message, which would be concerning, if it weren't for the fact you have been a ghost to everybody you know for the last.. 2 weeks?

Then it's there, your phone freezes, the screen goes white, and there's two small red and green buttons and one big circle profile picture with the familiar name under it. He's calling you. Your body freezes, and your fingers twitch forward towards the screen like they wanted to click something, but you were just stuck. Staring. Watching his name, watching the phone button ring, feeling your heart stop beating in your chest just for a few moments, but your face is practically emotionless. You know you feel something, but really you can't feel it at all.

Its quiet.

#writing #rottmnt #kazzy writes #Kaz vents #rottmnt donnie #donatello hamato #donatello #Angst #Rottmnt angst #Fiction #Possible cai bot #Maybe a story to be added to #More soon #donatello x reader #donatello x you #rottmnt donnatello

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blissfulraine · 10 months

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Duedett: a Bayveres 2014 fanfiction

intro: okay so this is just creative writing to up my games for in general fun and creative outlets, (if you have requests or math cup i still write them,message me separate in my ask box) anyway like it or dont this is here for amusement and personal gain. Enjoy <3

Chapter one

Maddie could not sleep whatsoever, the hustle and bustle of New York city seemed to encapsulate and surround her with noise. huddling closer to her laptop, she folded into the soft gray comforter, glaring at the half finished story in her google docs labeled “to be conjured”. As much as she loved to write, it was difficult for her to sometimes put herself into the shoes of her much beloved favorite owl house characters, Eda the Owl Lady without making it cringe and sounding painfully inaccurate. Huffing out a sigh, she fell back into the mountain of multi-colored pillows that her cat had made a home out of.The poor cat darted away from its falling mother with an annoyed meow, only to turn back a moment later to sit at the base of the pillow mound. Bringing her tiered blueish-gray eyes to rest on her cat, maddie sighed sitting up in a half slouch.

“I wish cali was here to edit with me.” she murmured, patting the spot next to her fleece clad hip, peaking the calicos interest.

“She’s just so much better at doing this kind of perspective than I am.”

Reaching over to offer her left hand, the cat took the opportunity to rub his soft and furry face into her face avoiding the gesture entirely. Maddie giggled pushing him onto the mattress next to her, causing an eruption of loud thrumming purrs to ensue, as she aimed to grab the phone sitting on her shiny birch bedside table.

The first thing she noticed was the time, at the top of her lock screen, the bright white numbers of 8:46 pm read out, as the soft purple light of her home screen illuminated her face in the dark bedroom, along with the other apps on her cell phone. She pulled up the one labeled as “spotify” turning on the first playlist she could, but just as the music started, a hand tapped maddie on the shoulder. Blue eyes met dark brown ones as April 'o'Neil began to explain an incident that had occurred at the docks where she had recently interrogated a dock worker on the latest foot clan crimes, cutting Maddie off.

“ hey i’m gonna call cali-.” the sentence never finished.

“ Okay I already told skylar but like you have no idea what I just went through,” she inhaled, taking a deep breath and running a hand through her messy dark locks,”I am really freaking out right now.” concerne and confusion twisted maddie's facial features as she looked up at april who was pacing the tan carpeted floor of the bedroom.

“April are you alright, do you want to sit down and explain?” she stopped, foot in the air as she whipped her head around to face the concerned blond. With a huff, she flopped onto the soft covers.

“Just take a breath,” maddie demonstrated by taking a loud deep breath to which April did as well “,and explain to me what happened.” she finished with a soft smile. For a few moments April sat there collecting and going over the events of the last two hours, pulling it all into words.

“I was riding my bike by the docks, and it's already dark out but there were Foot Clan soldiers everywhere.” it seemed as if she was reliving the memory lost in thought.

“ Then all of a sudden there was this guy,” she turned her head as maddie nodded on trying to comprehend the fact that her roommate was now going off to tell her about how a man threw a several ton cargo box and fought off dozens of terrorists.

Maddie snapped out of there trance as April took a few steps back, not even realising April had gotten up.

“There will be no more froth and foam for me,” she huffed out cocking a hip. Blond brows furrowed as her eyebrows knit together, maddie looking up at april in bewilderment.

“What?”

exasperated, April sighed.

“You know what, never mind,” she began to walk away but stopped immediately, slurring her head slightly to look back at Raine’s confused expression.” Do you have drama after school tomorrow?” They smiled and nodded,“Yea, I'll be taking the subway after school.” At April's concerned eyes she quipped an,”I'll be careful, won't talk to anyone I don't know.”

April smiled tentatively and nodded, closing the wooden door behind her, leaving maddie toe continue writing.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt #tmnt fanart #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt #tmnt donatello #bayverse turtles #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014

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fanby-fckry · 1 year

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📌 Welcome friends, foes, and passersby to my personal piece of fandom hell.

About My Blog:

18+ only; minors will be blocked

Please, please put your age in your bio!

No further DNI, but I will block bigots, bullies, and blank blogs. Terfs, aphobes, and exclusionists please exit the blog and find a hobby that isn’t bullying queer people on tumblr.

This blog was originally created as a way for me to share my fanfiction and accept requests, but has since expanded to incorrect quotes, memes, and occasionally non-fandom bs.

It runs pretty much entirely on queue and scheduled posts. I don’t have notifs turned on for the app, so I may take a while to respond to messages and asks.

Fandoms:

The Amazing Devil (Band)

Doctor Who

Fullmetal Alchemist

Harry Potter – I do not support JKR

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Steven Universe

The Witcher

I tend to cycle through them based on the whims of my ADHD brain, and when each is posted is unknown even to me.

Tags:

#Fanby’s Fuckery – All original posts (minus ramblings)

#Fanby’s Fics – My fanfiction

#Fanby’s Headcanons – My headcanons and occasionally a few scattered plot bunnies

#Fanby Answers – Answered asks

#Fanby Adds – Reblogs where I add something (that I think is) significant

#Fanby’s Ramblings – Rants, ramblings, screaming into the void, and other general mumblings of madness that I don’t want clogging up my main tag

#Not OSHA Compliant – Content with kink and/or sexual and/or suggestive themes; original posts may also be marked with the mature filter

#Undescribed – Posts with images that do not have image descriptions

#Functionally Described – Posts that don’t have dedicated image descriptions, but describe the image in the post

#Not Fandom – Any posts not related to fandoms or fics

Posts and memes about my fics are tagged #Fanby: [fic name]

Common triggers are tagged #[trigger] cw

If you’d like something tagged, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Accessibility:

I’m currently going through old posts for an accessibility update, but once that’s done…

Original posts will all have image descriptions

IDs under two-hundred characters will be in the alt text.

IDs over two-hundred characters will be in plain text.

If an image is meant to be reposted – for example, a meme template – then the ID will be in plain text for easy copy-pasting.

If you find my content inaccessible or have a way to make it more accessible, please please tell me. I’ve been doing research, but there’s a lot to learn – not to mention the conflicting information. Criticism in regards to accessibility is more than welcome.

Refs, Recs, and Resources:

#Fanby’s Ref Folder – Catchall tag for things I want to save to revisit later (working on phasing it out)

#AO3 Tips

#Crisis Tips

#Donate Here

#Fic Recs

#Inspo

#Internet Tips

#Life Tips

#Palestine Resources

Black-and-white thinking in fandom and resources for CBT, DBT, and addressing cognitive distortions.

About Me:

My name is Nico, I’m 25, and I write fanfic. I use they/them and xe/xem pronouns, and have a whole heap of queer labels I fall under. For more info on my labels and term preferences, check out my pronouns.page.

I’m part of an real life love triangle made up of myself, my fiancé, and our boyfriend.

If you wanna read more of my work, I’m on AO3 as fanby, and have some exclusive fics posted there.

Blog’s new, but I’m not. I was on this hellsite back in the ‘go nuts, show nuts’ golden age and when they finally shut this place down, staff will have to call animal control to remove me from the air vents like the rabid little raccoon I am <3

I have a twitter, but there’s literally nothing there that isn’t here. Check it out if you prefer Musk’s bird app, I guess?

Fanfic Masterlists:

Harry Potter – WIP

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss

The Witcher

Kinktober

AO3 Exclusives – Links to the AO3 collection

Requests:

Requests are currently open for mutuals only. I’m trying to limit requests at the moment, but will make an exception for mutuals if I think I can swing it.

Will Write:

Angst with a happy ending

Hurt/comfort

Fluff

Familial relationships

Found family trope

X reader

OCs

Canon x OC

Any relationship style: platonic, queer platonic, romantic, sexual, D/s dynamics

Most kinks

Explicit kink

Non-explicit sexual content

Might Write:

Hurt/no comfort

Crossovers

OOC

Non-canon disabilities and mental illness *1

Alastor as a Voodoo practitioner*2

Explicit sexual content *3

*1 If I’m going to represent a marginalized group, I’m going to do my best to do so respectfully, even in fanfiction. If I’m not confident in my ability to do that, then I may choose not to.

That being said, I’m down to research and I have lived experience with chronic pain and a few mental illnesses. I am extremely confident in my ability to project my own experiences onto my blorbos, and do so quite frequently.

*2 This is mainly for the same reason I won’t write non-canon disabilities. Voodoo is highly misrepresented and I don’t want to contribute to that. I may write him as a past practitioner depending on the circumstances and as long as his current magic is not Voodoo-based.

My personal headcanon is that he grew up practicing Voodoo and ancestral magic, but burned bridges in the pursuit of power and lost support because being a serial killer is generally frowned upon. I usually write his current magic as non-specific, demonic, or Eldritch in nature.

*3 My ability to write explicit sexual content varies, so I’ll be taking this on a case by case basis.

Won’t Write – This Fandom-Specific Content:

Note: These are due to personal preference, deeply ingrained headcanons, and nunn’yuh (none ya business). I am not judging or condemning any of these ships/headcanons/etc. or people who make fanworks involving them; it’s just a comfort thing.

Hazbin Hotel:

Rosie in an NSFW context

Chalastor

Alastor x Niffty

Angel Dust shipped romantically with women

Vaggie shipped with men

The Witcher:

Yennefer bashing

Ciri (including adult!Ciri) shipped with any Wolf School Witcher

Ciri (including adult!Ciri) shipped with Jaskier/Dandelion

Won’t Write – This General Content:

Note: A good deal of this section falls under Kinktomato or YKINMKATO (Your Kink Is Not My Kink (And That's OK)) and DLDR (Don’t Like, Don’t Read) – just like, with writing instead of reading.

I’m not here to take sides in shipcourse or police other people’s writing; this is, again, about my own comfort level with writing certain topics. That’s it.

Scat/watersports/emeto kink

Adult x minor ships

Underage NSFW/smut/explicit, including any underage kink

Incest, including adoptive/step family

Detailed or romanticized non-con *1

Detailed or romanticized dub-con *1

Detailed or romanticized suicide *2

Detailed or romanticized self harm *2

*1 I can write aftermath of non-con/dub-con or attempted non-con/dub-con, but will not go into detail or portray it as in any way positive. I won’t write the reader or a canon characters as the perpetrator, unless it’s already in canon – AKA: The Valentino Exception. This does not include negotiated CNC, which I would consider writing under specific circumstances.

*2 Any time I write content involving suicide or suicidal ideation, I write with the National Recommendations for Depicting Suicide in mind.

The way suicide is portrayed in fiction can have real world consequences:

“Studies have shown that both news reports and fictional accounts of suicide in movies and television can lead to increases in suicide. In contrast, when depictions are done responsibly, the media can help to encourage help seeking, dispel myths, and reinforce hope – and ultimately save lives.”

(Source: Alliance for Suicide Prevention)

I am a suicide survivor and have lost loved ones to suicide as well, so this is deeply personal to me. If you’re struggling with self harm or suicidal thoughts, please hold on, and don’t be afraid to ask for help:

International Suicide Hotlines

Australia Lifeline: 13 11 14

Canada Talk Suicide: 1.833.456.4566

UK Samaritans: 116 123

USA Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988

#fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s ref folder #and fuck jkr

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 1 year

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Sacred Mysteries

At 10:40 PM, ET, on a Saturday, Martin began a message to himself. He closed the main GlassWave tab, then clicked on a small app on the right-hand side of his window to create a new tab. He typed "GREETING" in the text entry box at the top of this new tab.

Without much further thought, he pressed the RETURN key. More than 1,250 words appeared before him in GlassWave's standard white-and-gray text-box format. There was a blurry background image beneath. Martin was not sure how this image had been created, but there it was, in its blurry glory.

They all come here, and they are all the same: the fear-mongers, the flatterers, and the bureaucrats; the sufferers and the psychotics; the parasites, the trenders, and the perverts; the tempted, the damned, and the converted; the old, the neurotic, and the young; the makeup-wearers, the technically challenged, and the victims of the mysteries.

They come here and they are all the same, from the harmless to the grievous. They are seeking something, and they are seeking it in the only place it can be found. Everything that can be seen has been seen before. Everything that can be said has been said before.

We must not let them see, and we must not let them hear, but we can see them and we can hear them. We can touch their hearts and their minds and their souls.

Martin read the opening section of the message one last time. The words came to him as if from far away, and they described a world he had lost touch with long ago.

"When I was a child," the words read, "I was curious about the origin of a particular phrase. I've since forgotten what phrase it was, but back then I knew it was a phrase people used. I found it in some book or in a movie or something, and I thought it was neat, and I thought that people were using it as a phrase, like they say 'that's how the cookie crumbles' or 'you know the drill' or something like that, except that it was in a different context, in a context that people actually used, but I don't remember the context, and the phrase itself was complicated and it had a pun in it, but I don't remember the pun, only the phrase itself, but not enough to find it, which I've never tried to find, but now I guess I will, when I have the time, so I don't have to think about it anymore."

Martin began reading the subsequent paragraphs of his message. He read them quickly, stopping only to check the calendar date on his wall at the end of each one. Every one was labeled with a date in the past, then one in the future.

The words formed a tale. It was a tale of puzzles and tricks and questions and obfuscation, a tale in which the characters spoke in a strange, cryptic language. The tale was replete with blood and pain and death and terror and suffering, but this made it no less of a puzzle, and no less of a series of tricks.

The tale told how people from another world had come to this world and had constructed a web of signs and rituals and beliefs. They had learned, as children, that this world was real, and they had found it beautiful and precious, and they set out to defend it from the dangers that lay outside.

Martin began to notice something. In the first paragraph, the word "them" referred to mysteries. In the second, it referred to puzzles. It referred to tricks and questions and obfuscation in the third. And, in the fourth and fifth, it seemed to refer to a mixture of everything -- mysteries, puzzles, tricks, questions, obfuscation.

(Martin decided to ignore the fact that "them" was used throughout the story with both singular and plural referents.)

The tale was set in a labyrinth, and it began with the title of the labyrinth: "The Buried Giant." This was not a name for a person or a thing, but for a place, wherein were found the mysteries, the puzzles, the tricks, the questions, and the obfuscation that had been forgotten by men, and buried by time.

A traveler had come to this place, and had seen the mysteries. He began to wonder how they were buried, and where they came from.

To answer these questions, and to solve the puzzles, he began a quest. His quest was to liberate the mysteries from the labyrinth.

In the labyrinth, the traveler discovered a world of immensely intelligent creatures who lived without the mysteries. They had forgotten them, long ago, and their minds had been made a pure white, a perfect void, a blurred background image.

And yet, the mysteries had returned to them, through a mystical doorway in the labyrinth. But this doorway was blocked by a vast tangle of puzzles, and the traveler was tasked with cutting through this tangle.

The traveler would not have succeeded, without the help of a figure called Merlin. Merlin had come to the labyrinth, to study the mystical doorway, and had somehow learned the secret name of the traveler. Merlin knew the name and the traveler's face, and had come to the labyrinth to reunite them.

When the traveler reached the doorway, he handed Merlin his sword, then took a ring from Merlin and placed it upon his finger.

Now, the traveler made his way through the "tangle" to the other side. Merlin awaited him, and together they would ride the tangle to the ancient elf city beyond. They would fight a battle there, to liberate the mysteries from the prisoners of the labyrinth, and would return them to the ancestors of the creatures of the labyrinth, who had forgotten them and lived without them.

The traveler made his way to the other side of the tangle. Merlin awaited him.

Martin stopped reading. He did not understand.

The figures of the tale -- the traveler, Merlin, the creatures -- were absurd.

They were not figures of a children's story, like "That's How the Cookie Crumbles." Nor were they figures of a non-fictional text, like "the mysteries of the brain." They were not admirable fictional figures, like an 18th century nobleman who had a love for ancient history, or a 19th century archeologist who had a love for the mind, or a 20th century philosopher who had a love for the inner world, or a 21st century physicist who had a love for game theory and mathematics. Nor were they mere pantomimes, mere signifiers without signifieds, mere tokens without referents.

The traveler and Merlin were pure idea, molded in the crucible of Martin's mind, at 10:41 PM, on a Saturday. They were ideata, arising from the sacred mysteries. They were not three-dimensional, and yet they were not figures of a line drawing, figures that could be flattened and then flipped back upright and they would be the same. They were a unit, a complex unit. They were a voice, a means, a toy, a puzzle. They were a composite of parts. They were aliens. They were a language. They were, simply, a sign, a symbol, a cipher.

They were not nonsense. They had a meaning. They were something to think about, and something to consider. They were something Martin was thinking about, and something he had considered. They were a thought, an idea, an implication, a vision, an allusion, a shape, a pattern. They were a mirror, an occult thought, a phantom, a pantomime, an allusion. They were a link between two worlds, a link between men and a place wherein lay mysteries.

They were two faces of the same coin. They were the implied and the implicating, and they were united. They were the linguistic code and the objects that the code pointed to. They were composed of meaning. They were impossible. They were a code. They were a toy. They were a cipher.

They had colors. They were like Merlin, with his white-blurred-background, with his pure white, his pure void. They were like Merlin, but their colors were more diverse.

They were like Merlin, but they came to the labyrinth to free the traveler's mind from the white-blurred-background. They had not come to help the traveler free his mind, but to chain him further, to make the mystery more unavoidable.

They were like Merlin, but they wore rings on their fingers, not the ring of Merlin, but their own rings, rings as nondescript as they were, a ring that took on the form of a figure, and a figure that took on the form of a ring.

They were like Merlin, unlike Merlin, and they were like the traveler, unlike the

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positively--speculative · 2 years

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Has anyone noticed that people who start as mostly just fatphobic tend to quickly adopt other bigotries?

I tend to think back to a time when I wasted time arguing with horrible people, and I remember on another blog posting something about how dumb I thought fatphobia is and how no one is forcing anyone to find fat people attractive (which is usually what fatphobia comes down to...this entitled belief that fat people should change their bodies so they will find them more pleasing to look at), people just want to be able to exist in peace regardless of how their body appears, and this fatphobe commented with a hair-brained statement comparing existing as a fat person to being a streaker. Turns out, this person was spending their free time looking through the "fat positive" and "body positive" tags and commenting on pictures fat people posted of themselves with positive messages about feeling good about themselves. This person would comment with their unasked-for health "advice" and "nicely" let them know they needed to lose weight.

Now, I went back and forth with this person for a while (again, this was before I realized that talking to this kind of person brings nothing but grief as they tend to be hard-headed and don't like to be wrong), and in the beginning, this person labeled themselves a feminist and would acknowledge that she, as a white conventionally attractive young woman, was privileged. But it seemed during the course of our communication, she started to branch out from her fatphobia and started to pick up other phobias. She started reblogging some pretty gross anti-Isam shit and "all lives matter" bullshit. Then, she suddenly started to refuse to acknowledge her privileges. I knew this person completely lost it when she started unironically reblogging Milo Yiannopoulus videos. I stopped wasting my time.

And I still think about this...because this person started by just hating fat people. But when you really think about it, it makes sense. Fatphobia is rooted in misogyny and racism. Yes, there are fat white men who get shit for being fat, but you simply cannot strip that fact away. So, when you have a person who genuinely believes they are helping fat people (or has convinced themselves that's what they're doing instead of straight up hating), that person is probably going to follow similar-minded people, and THOSE people are likely going to at least have some racist and misogynistic tendencies because it's all connected. And eventually, because this is how it works, that person is going to be suggested some really vile blogs... straight-up racist, misogynistic, queerphobic, etc.-centered blogs.

And YouTube, Facebook, TikTok, and other apps work the same. Watch a few "weight loss transformation" videos, and you'll likely be guided to straight-up fatphobia content which will eventually lead to other content that centers on all the other bigotries.

So, when someone is fatphobic, I always assume that they're probably racist, misogynistic, queerphobic, etc., because it's never about health or compassion (if it was about health, these people would be sharing health advice that wasn't necessarily completely centered around weight loss). It's about controlling and policing other people's lives, which is what bigotry is all about.

Just a note: I'm not necessarily against a person's decision to lose weight. What I am against is the idea that you can assess someone's health without a license to practice medicine just by looking at them and making assumptions. And I am against the idea that weight loss is the only way to be healthy. I also think we should be talking about the other benefits of exercise such as how it can make us feel. I believe we should be teaching people that health comes in different sizes and it's really none of anyone's business anyway.

#fatphobia

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dimalink · 1 year

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Atomic music – stronger than you know

I am a music fan. I like to listen to music a lot. And watch too. So, it is a pop music. Rock, gothic, disco. Different. So, I want to make a message about what I listened.

At music label Atomic Fire Records is written musicians as Jag Panzer, Udo. They have a new releases.

youtube

Jag Panzer, even, make a new album. With some videoclips for a new songs. Artist for me, this is new. And, when I turn him on, I do not get some things, at first time. It is heavy metal. It is typical rock. With interesting guitars. In some places, even, with interesting melodies. But, mainly, it is rock rhythm heavy metal music. For change with Judas Priest. Something like this. From age of Painkiller. Excellent record. When I listen it, I get that it is a little military, about music and text.

youtube

Later, also videoclips. And I get that, it is not a little, but a full program. Songs like “We are stronger than you know”. It is obvious reference to some wolf, and some things like this in a clip. It is obvious military style. It is war style heavy metal. In some clip I saw musicians themselves. Singer is a wild. With white hairs. It is remarkable. But, I do not expect all these. It is a surprise. I think they will be look more civilized.

But, music a thing you need. For fans of heavy metal and military – it is a thing you need. All songs are like bullets. As cool action movies. Rock with full program. Military style with full scale.

youtube

Udo – it is well known musician since 80s, rock musician. Style military. I like a lot record Mean Machine. I can recommend to everyone. It is 80s, it is military. It is Soviet Union. And military style songs. As I thing, it is about some soldier, but in a Hollywood style. I like these songs – streets on fire, lost passion. Also, I am surprised by song – Still in love with you. Which is most short song. I ever heard in my life. And it is a rock, with no words. Just rock guitar, and it sounds very remarkable. So, it is a music phrase.

youtube

So, this is UDO. As I do joke on him DIKshnaider. As I find it more fun, you know. He gives a news song for you. Touchdown. There is a videoclip. There is a new song. Cool record. It is still metal. Still heavy metal. After so many years. It is amazing.

Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

#music #pop music #rock #heavy metal #hard rock #80s #video #videoclip #udo #touchdown #forever free #stronger than you know #jag panzer #prey #new music #music release #atomic fire records #Youtube

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quotesfrommyreading · 1 year

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On one of my last nights in Taipei, I met with a woman in her early 30s named Billion Lee who helps run Cofacts, an organization that fact-checks disinformation and promotes digital literacy. Relying on a crowdsourced network of more than 2,000 volunteers, Cofacts has done nearly 90,000 fact-checks, mostly on the ubiquitous Taiwanese social-media platform Line. I asked her about Beijing-driven narratives that accompanied the invasion of Ukraine, and they sounded conspicuously similar to those emanating from Moscow. As bombs began falling on Ukraine, the people of Taiwan were bombarded by Chinese-fueled disinformation campaigns: The U.S. was developing biological weapons in Ukraine. Taiwan will be next if they keep buying weapons from America. These overlapped with narratives I’d heard about from other Taiwanese: Afghanistan showed that Americans don’t keep their promises. The Americans won’t send troops to defend white people in Ukraine, so they will never send them to defend you. Lee noted that her generation had developed antibodies to such campaigns, but China was focusing on younger demographics as well—teenagers and preteens—through Chinese apps like TikTok.

After a quick dinner of soba noodles, we walked a short distance to a small alley off a bustling main boulevard and met Johnson Liang, a young man with shoulder-length hair and round glasses that made him look like a Taiwanese John Lennon. Liang took out a large metal key to open the door to a shared workspace. We removed our shoes and walked into a back conference room. Lee passed out moon cakes and Liang connected his laptop to a projector that showed his screen on a bare wall.

The two of them explained that they were developing a tool that could enable fact-checkers to compare shared images and transcripts with similar content online, thus making it easier to do the painstaking work of sorting fact from falsehood. As they went about their work, I scrolled through the latest fact-checks. One involved a lengthy speech that was alleged to have been transcribed from a private recording of French President Emmanuel Macron speaking with diplomats in Paris and blaming the U.S. for all of the trouble in the world. “We must admit that China and Russia have achieved great success over the years under different leadership styles,” Macron supposedly said. (The speech was labeled a falsehood.) Another post, also flagged as false, talked about how the U.S. has been trying to turn “blue” (the KMT) and “green” (the DPP) against each other: “The ultimate goal is to ask Taiwan to die to the last man.”

I sat there reading message after message, all posted in closed chat rooms, meant to bend Taiwanese minds to Beijing’s worldview. The meanings of buzzwords like cognitive warfare and resilience came into sharper focus. Facing the seemingly bottomless resources of a massive totalitarian state, here were two young people working for free on a Wednesday night, quietly insisting on the notion that there is indeed such a thing as objective reality.

— Taiwan Wants China to Think Twice About an Invasion

#ben rhodes #taiwan wants china to think twice about an invasion #current events #politics #chinese politics #taiwanese politics #journalism #propaganda #psychological warfare #disinformation #internet #social media #tiktok #taiwan #china

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morinassociates678 · 2 days

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#Telecommunications

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