#clubhouse invite code

[iffeelscouldkill]

Lost in a Familiar Place pt. 6

(Aka the ���Nicholas never applied to Kings Row’ AU)

A/N: This is the second-to-last instalment of this fic! So the next update will be the final one, although it's shaping up to be twice as long as the other chapters, so... it'll be like a double chapter. But I'll post it as one thing xD

In which Nicholas spends time with Eugene and Bobby, and Harvard works some things out.

Previous chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“So you were there because Harvard just invited you to watch practice on the spot,” Eugene summarised, as Bobby sipped his smoothie and listened wide-eyed. When Bobby had said ‘get smoothies’, Nicholas had assumed they were going into town – but Kings Row students weren’t allowed off-campus during term-time without special permission.

Instead, they were at a little shop on campus with tables outside that sold “healthy” smoothies. Bobby described them as “not too bad”; Nicholas took one mouthful and didn’t know what to think. Maybe they were an acquired taste.

“And then,” Eugene continued, “you mouthed off at Seiji Katayama-”

“Not mouthed off,” Nicholas objected, laughing. “I was just saying that I saw-”

“-holes in his defence, yeah; I’m pretty sure that counts as mouthing off to someone like Seiji,” Eugene said. “You did that, and then Coach Williams was like, ‘Hey, why not let this random guy borrow some gear and join in?’”

Nicholas grinned and shrugged. “It sounds weird, I know, but I guess she knew me from Regionals? She saw my match against Kyle.” He grimaced and played with his straw. “Not the greatest show of my skills, but I’m getting better all the time.”

“I can’t believe this all happened because you hooked up with Aiden,” Bobby exclaimed, sounding thrilled and a little scandalised. “What was that like, by the way? I’ve always wondered. Is he a good kisser?”

“Uh,” Nicholas thought about it. “Yeah, not bad.” He shrugged one shoulder. “So – does Seiji not hang out with you guys after practice?”

He caught Bobby and Eugene trading a brief look of amusement, although he didn’t know exactly why.

“He’s pretty closed-off,” Bobby said. “We have invited him, but – he’s so driven. It doesn’t seem like he has much time for anything social.” He smiled, apparently wowed by idea of being so dedicated to fencing that it was all you ever did. “Eugene has talked to him, haven’t you, Eugene?”

“Uh, not much,” Eugene said. “Just a few times in practice. He’ll critique your form – whether you want it or not, usually. He did give me some good advice about protein shakes once, though.”

Nicholas thought about Seiji’s laser focus when he fenced, the relentless way that he won point after point. In truth, Nicholas wished he could be more like that. He’d thought that he was motivated to better himself, but compared to Seiji, he wasn’t serious at all. That drive, that sheer determination – it was what made Seiji a champion.

A thoughtful silence descended for a bit before Nicholas cast around for a change of subject. “So – what’s it like, being at Kings Row?” he asked. “I’ve always kind of wondered what boarding school is like. Are they super strict?”

Bobby’s eyes lit up. “It’s great! Sure, it’s kind of formal, but there’s a lot of fun stuff, too. Most of the fencers are in the same dorm…”

Nicholas listened as Bobby and Eugene told tales of assemblies and study hall, sneaking extra food from the canteen, sharing care packages from home and doing makeovers (that one was mostly Bobby).

“The dress code is strict,” Eugene complained. “Plus, you have different types of uniform that you have to wear for different things. Like sports class, or assembly.”

“Why?” Nicholas asked.

Eugene talked about cutting class when he was inducted into the team and sneaking out to the fencing clubhouse for a secret feast and team pledge. He joked about his ‘long road’ to making the team at Kings Row, trying out every year until he achieved his goal. Bobby excitedly explained why he wanted to be a fencer, and talked about his roommate, Dante, who claimed he wasn’t interested in fencing (yet hadn’t missed one of Bobby’s tryout matches).

Nicholas listened in fascination as he finished his smoothie. Truthfully, apart from the rules and the weird dress code, it sounded… fun. It was clear that the senior fencers were good guys, and that everyone at Kings Row looked out for each other even if there was some friendly competition.

And the fencing facilities… Bobby and Eugene had talked about Kings Row’s terrible track record in major competitions, but Nicholas could only dream of training somewhere like the spacious salle they’d fenced in today. For a moment, he tried to imagine it, picturing himself in a team uniform, standing in the middle of the salle, épée in hand… and a powerful wave of longing swept over him that made his breath catch. God, he wanted that so much.

He realised that Bobby and Eugene had both fallen quiet and were looking at him, although Eugene broke eye contact when Nicholas looked up, tipping his cup to drain his smoothie. Bobby smiled gently.

“You know, I’m pretty sure that Kings Row offers a fencing scholarship,” he said. “Did you ever think about trying out?”

“I don’t… Uh, I’m not really… I dunno,” Nicholas admitted, unable to muster up his usual reasoning. “It’s too late now, I guess.”

“Well, hey, if you’re ever down for getting your ass whooped in a practice match-” Eugene nudged Nicholas’ arm with a fist – “you know where to find me.”

Bobby grinned brightly at him. “Yeah, maybe we could hang out over break!”

Nicholas swallowed and smiled at them both. “That would be cool,” he said.

*

Harvard paced back and forth in the shadow of the Kings Row library building. He shouldn’t be out past curfew; as team Captain, he had a responsibility to set a good example. (Granted, he and Aiden had done it a few times in the past – more than a few, really).

But he couldn’t go back to his and Aiden’s shared dorm room. Aiden had set him a challenge to figure out what he meant by “it doesn’t do to get too attached”. He’d promised to tell Harvard the answer if Harvard couldn’t work it out, but Harvard instinctively knew that needing Aiden to tell him would be a kind of failure. And this was Aiden. His best friend. Someone he knew better than anyone else in the world, and vice versa. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to figure this out.

So, what had Aiden actually said? Harvard had asked him why he didn’t try properly as part of the team, and Aiden had responded by saying that it wasn’t good to get attached. Harvard knew that Aiden had issues with commitment. His home life had never been stable, and his dad had never offered consistent affection or emotional attention, instead thinking that throwing money around would substitute for a total lack of investment in his son’s life.

So, Aiden rejected people before they could reject him, never getting too close to anyone (except for Harvard, because Harvard refused to act like everyone else. Even when Aiden sometimes made that difficult).

But it couldn’t only be that, because Aiden knew that Harvard knew about his flaky tendencies; that wasn’t a secret. It had to be something more than that. Anyway, Aiden hadn’t always been as inconsistent as he was now – it had been a gradual thing. At the beginning, Harvard remembered, Aiden had been as dedicated as he was: showing up to every practice, doing drills and working at new moves alongside the rest of the team. Harvard recalled how much Elias, the then-captain, had liked him.

Then he’d started skipping out on the odd practice, claiming he couldn’t possibly meet his dates at any other time. When Harvard pressed him on it, Aiden had brushed him off, saying that he didn’t need all those extra practices to wipe the floor with his opponents. This was, admittedly, true (at least at the level that Kings Row competed at), and he still came through for the matches, so Harvard dropped it. But it had stung.

When he was captain, he told himself, he wouldn’t let it slide. But it was Aiden, and so… he had. Harvard sighed at himself, thinking about it. Aiden had always been his weak spot, and he’d always been able to push past the lines that Harvard tried to draw in a way that no-one else could. Whether it was skipping out on team practice… or bringing dates into their room. That one had always got his back up. The dorm room was their space, the place where they lounged around together and ate cupcakes and watched old swordfighting movies side by side.

Harvard had tried to be okay with it, telling himself that Aiden might be serious about one of these guys, and so he should get used to having them around. But Aiden never was. Harvard took Aiden's flings more seriously than Aiden did.

Aiden could never bring himself to be serious about anything, Harvard knew. He’d stopped expecting it ages ago. So, he wasn’t sure why he couldn’t chalk all of this up to Aiden being Aiden and move on.

He wanted Aiden to commit to the team, but… it wasn’t just that. Fencing had always been something that they’d done together. Being on the team, going to matches and commentating on the other fencers, watching old movies and tournament footage… Harvard had been surprised to hear Aiden say that he joined the team for Harvard because he hadn’t thought that Aiden felt the same – but fencing was their thing for Harvard too.

He had wanted Aiden to come through not for the team, not really; but for him. And when he hadn’t… Harvard had felt like he was an idiot to care as much as he did.

Harvard stared off into the distance, rubbing absently at his breastbone. He thought about the last time that he and Aiden had fenced a match against each other, during team tryouts. Harvard had enjoyed most of his matches during tryouts, even amidst the pressure. Eugene had improved so much; fencing Seiji had been a refreshing challenge, despite the stress of knowing he’d lose. And he always had fun fencing Kally, who was very tactical – a bit like Aiden.

But fencing Aiden had been… So much better than any of those matches. Harvard remembered the way Aiden tied his hair up before the match, since it was now long enough to go in a ponytail. It was a bit mesmerising, watching him flick it into place. He’d grinned, and Aiden had smiled, and it was like it had always been between them – familiar, but somehow unexpected.

They’d begun, and Aiden had fenced defensively at first, so much so that Harvard had raised an eyebrow at him. “Are we going to really fence, here?” he’d asked, and Aiden had responded with this sharp grin, and then they were fencing.

Harvard was used to this version of Aiden that he saw during fencing matches – particularly during that match against Seiji – who was all sharp edges, quicksilver wit and cutting tongue, never in the same place for too long. He turned into that person, too, when he broke up with someone. Harvard thought of it as Aiden’s defensive strategy – a way of keeping people at a distance. Of punishing them if they got too close. It made sense that this would apply as much to dating as it did to fencing.

But when the two of them fenced, Aiden was just… Aiden. The way that Harvard knew him – funny, quick, clever, his feigned carelessness disguising how much he really did care, deep down. His brow furrowed in thought while he fenced Harvard, and at one point Harvard had made a joke, some dumb reference to one of their old swordfighting movies, and Aiden had laughed openly. And Harvard had thought, There you are.

Aiden gave him a strange look, and for a moment Harvard feared the words had come out of his mouth. “What?” Aiden asked.

“I… nothing. I miss this,” Harvard had said. And then, quieter, “I miss this you.”

Aiden had looked startled, and Harvard hurriedly put his mask back on and took up a stance. They’d fenced the rest of the match, Harvard had won, and things had pretty much been normal between them. But Harvard had thought that Aiden had looked preoccupied, afterwards.

“It doesn’t do to get too attached.” Without realising it, Harvard began pacing again, more quickly. He was suddenly looking at everything in a different light.

It had never just been about fencing – it was about fencing and them. Aiden had pulled away from fencing and pulled away from Harvard because that was what he always did – to keep people at arm’s length, to keep from showing how much he cared. To protect himself. Because– because–

Harvard thought about Aiden’s shocked look when Harvard had said, “I miss this you.” He thought about Aiden running his hands through blond hair to tie it up out of the way, wisps escaping from his ponytail as he fenced, his blue eyes calculating, a knowing smirk dancing around his lips. He thought about Aiden’s laugh when they fenced.

He thought about flopping down next to Aiden on their beds, arms pressed together – about leaning into him during a movie night, trusting that Aiden would be there, solid, next to him. Harvard could vividly picture Aiden’s smile; the angle of his jaw. In his mind’s eye, he turned his head, and–

Oh. “Oh,” Harvard said out loud, staring into the distance. Then he bolted around the side of the building. He needed to find Aiden immediately.

[unsolicitedadvicecatlady]

"secret" society

Thinking about starting a secret society that is actually not a secret at all and is open to everyone, but we call it a secret society and have a cool clubhouse and secret handshakes and gestures for when we're in public and speak in code that's just silly nonsense.

It would be a community clothes closet, fridge and pantry, we'd have block parties where the only way you can gain admittance is to agree that this is totally a secret society and promise to tell at least one person that it's a secret society and tell them all about what we do and invite them to join.

We'd put ads out inviting people to come to our parties and join our secret society where it's just potlucks and trading or giving away things that members want to donate like clothes, books, furniture, baby items, old tools, extra tiles and lumber from that reno you overestimated materials for, etc.

There would be no leaders, just people who are good at organizing who want to help, and we would rotate and take shifts so nobody would be doing the same thing month to month.

There would be no dues or fees or treasury, just bring food and items to donate, and volunteer for setting up and cleaning up when you can. We'd have a community garden that was managed by volunteer members.

We'd have a time dedicated at each "meeting" (party) to discuss individual's needs like so-and-so needs help with a plumbing problem at their house, or so-and-so is offering free labor on car repairs, or this family in the community is looking for a pediatrician, or this elderly member needs help with yard work.

There would be no religious, political, or ideological prerequisites, just a community of people being kind to people.

If there were troublemakers, malcontents, or disrespectful people we would empathetically try to understand what their needs are that aren't being met and try to meet those needs, show them that there is a better way of resolving conflicts, and keep being kind, honest and respectful to them as an example of what community can be. We wouldn't just kick them out because we're stronger unified.

I don't believe this is an impossible idealistic fantasy. I've seen groups like this, I've been part of groups akin to this, and I've heard good accounts of communities getting through very difficult times by doing something similar.

The guiding principles would be: 1. Treat everyone the way you want to be treated. 2. Do what you can for our environment. 3. 1 & 2 are good enough.

Now we just need a cool name.

[primordialrp]

WHO WE ARE...

PRIMORDIALRP is an original character RP set in the fictional town of Olympus –a place that has always been home to outlaws, criminals, gangs, and most importantly, the Primordial MC. Set ten years after the events in LOMKRP with some plot adjustments, we are a semi-closed, plot heavy writing group welcoming characters that can be easily integrated into the current plot! More about our plot can be found HERE.

CURRENTLY...

Rhea Thane is turning 77! The birthday of the long-time matriarch of the Thane family and the Primordial MC itself is something to be celebrated, and the best way to celebrate “Ma” is of course with a potluck party at the clubhouse. The MC and friends of the MC have all been invited, so long as they bring a dish to share and good spirits. Beer, of course, counts as a dish and the dress code is leather.

More information about the event can be found HERE.

INTERESTED IN JOINING?

We’re a semi-closed group, meaning we don’t take traditional applications nor do we have a formal application form or acceptance days! Most members have been referred to the group by existing members to keep the group small and ensure all muses fit into the plot dynamic, making sure every member and muse feels well infused into the group. That said, if you’ve happened to just stumble upon our little group and are super interested in joining/think your muse fits perfectly into the plot here, we welcome you! Just fill out THIS FORM and send it to our SUBMIT BOX and we’ll be in touch!

*If you’re a current member looking to refer us to a friend who wants to join, just fill out THIS FORM.

Character ideas we are looking for: sirens, prospects, MC members (specifically women!), former Trojans, law enforcement that’s good with the club, children of older members. Definitions for some of these terms can be found HERE.

[nemo-draco]

Preview Snippet:

[MEMORY DEFRAGMENTATION INITIATED]

—Zzzztorry about what happened, Anon.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Please, look, look, at least let me apologize without walking away? I really didn’t mean to—Aaron’s just been having a rough time and I was worried about leaving—”

“It’s always the damn kid…Has it ever occurred to you that he might not be User-material?”

“He, He is. The kid’s great with coding, he’s got a good mind for the place, he just needs a little extra help—”

“This help seems to be coming at everyone else’s expense, I’m noticing. D.W. got a crash course in how to deal with a major network outage because, for all you claim that his coding is good, he’s phenomenally fucking bad at being consistent. Sure, he fixes things, but he never leaves notes as to how he did it, making it even harder for whoever else has to pick up the slack. And he’s not around when he needs to be, dragging you away and leaving everyone else in a bind. He’s in school, sure, but if this is too much, he needs to go.”

“I, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to drop that…right now…”

“Why? ‘Cause he’s thrown out some sob story about how oh, I’ll try harder next time, things are just so hard right now, really? Net, if there’s anything you could stand to do, it’s thinking about the place you built first and foremost. The kid doesn’t live here, he can go fucking home. For the rest of us, this is our home. And I’d rather it stay functional than trusting it to some fucking flake that can’t even be bothered to be here when there’s a problem. So, thanks for the fucking apology, but until there’s a change I’m probably still gonna be pissed and there’s not much you’re gonna be able to do about it.”

“…Yeah, that’s, that’s fair. And thanks for reminding me about the outage, I’ve gotta talk to D.W. too. Though, uh, you still gonna be free for Friday?”

“Last time I tried to avoid it D.W. forcibly dragged my ass down to the…clubhouse or whatever the hell it is, so, yeah, probably.”

“Alright, well, I-I’ll be seeing you, okay, An—USER LOGIN NOT DETECTED.”

“What. Net, NET! Fucking dammit, SEND OUT INVITES, DON’T FUCKING SHUT DOWN, NET!”

“USER LOGIN NOT DETECTED, SHUT DOWN PROCESS INITIATING…”

“Fuck, FUCK! D.W., GET UP HERE!” 

SHUTDOWN IMMINENT

“FUCK OFF IF YOU’RE NOT GONNA HELP! We need to go downstairs, Shutdown, help me!”

404 Error: Connection Lost…

“Yeah, no fucking kidding. Grab his damn legszzzt—

[DATA UNABLE TO BE PROCESSED, TERMINATE SEQUENCE?]

[Y/N?]

[cubicdesignz]

Emerging Platforms: Where to Focus Your Social Media Marketing Efforts This Year

TikTok: TikTok continues to be a powerhouse, especially among younger demographics. Its short-form videos, creative challenges, and algorithm-driven content discovery make it a fertile ground for brand engagement. If your target audience includes Gen Z or Millennials, TikTok should be on your radar

Clubhouse: Clubhouse made waves with its audio-only chat rooms. Although it faced initial exclusivity (remember those coveted invite codes?), it has since opened up to a wider audience. Brands can host discussions, panels, and thought leadership sessions on Clubhouse to engage with users in a more intimate setting

Pinterest: Often overlooked, Pinterest remains a visual discovery platform. It’s not just for recipes and home decor; it’s a place where users actively seek inspiration. If your brand aligns with lifestyle, creativity, or visual storytelling, consider Pinterest as part of your strategy

Snapchat: Snapchat’s ephemeral nature appeals to younger users. Its AR filters, Stories, and Discover section provide opportunities for brands to showcase authenticity and creativity. Plus, Snap Map and geofilters allow hyper-local targeting

LinkedIn: While not exactly new, LinkedIn is evolving. It’s no longer just a professional networking site; it’s a content hub. Brands can share thought leadership articles, engage in industry discussions, and connect with B2B audiences. Keep an eye on LinkedIn’s features and algorithm changes

Niche Platforms: Beyond the giants, explore niche platforms that cater to specific interests. For example:

Spotify Live: A space for musicians, podcasters, and creators to connect with fans in real time.

Substack: A newsletter platform gaining popularity among writers and thought leaders.

Lemon8: A photo-sharing app that encourages authenticity and unfiltered moments.

Tribel: A community-focused platform for creators and their superfans.

Cubic Designz is the best creative digital marketing agency in Chennai which offers result-driven 360-degree digital solutions for small business.

Want to make your website look better or to create a new website and rank in the first page of google search engine using organic methods contact us.

Address : №16, Lakshmi Nagar, First Cross Street, Velachery Bypass Rd, opposite to GRT Jewellers, Chennai, Tamil Nadu 600042

Contact us : +919345722462

[francisxsullivan]

Golf Etiquette: A Guide to Proper Behavior on the Course

Golf is a sport known for its precision, patience, and the pursuit of perfection. Beyond mastering your swing and navigating the course, understanding and adhering to golf etiquette is crucial for an enjoyable and respectful game. Whether you're a seasoned pro or a novice, here's a comprehensive guide to the proper behavior on the golf course.

Respect the Silence: Teeing Off

As you step onto the tee box, it's essential to recognize the significance of concentration. Golf is a mental game, and maintaining focus is key. Be mindful of others teeing off nearby—silence is golden. Keep conversations hushed, and ensure your phone is on silent mode. Give your fellow golfers the courtesy they need to execute that perfect swing.

Pace of Play: Keep It Moving

One of the cardinal rules of golf etiquette is maintaining a steady pace. No one enjoys a round that feels like an eternity. Be prompt in your decision-making, whether it's selecting a club or reading the green. If your group is slower than those behind, let them play through. It's a small gesture that can make a big difference in everyone's enjoyment.

Repairing the Course: Fixing Divots and Ball Marks

Respecting the course is fundamental to golf etiquette. After taking a shot, be sure to repair any divots you've created on the fairway and fix ball marks on the green. This not only helps maintain the course's integrity but also ensures a smoother playing surface for others. Think of it as a collective responsibility to preserve the beauty of the game.

The Cart Path Dilemma: Stay On Track

When driving a golf cart, adhere to designated cart paths whenever possible. Straying onto fairways or greens can cause unnecessary damage to the turf. If you're unsure of the cart rules, consult with the course staff. Keeping carts on the designated paths demonstrates consideration for the groundskeepers' hard work and helps sustain the course for future players.

Mind Your Shadows: Be Mindful of Others

As the sun shifts throughout the day, so do the shadows cast by golfers. When someone is preparing to take a shot, position yourself and your cart in a way that minimizes the shadow you cast. This simple act of awareness showcases your respect for your fellow golfers and ensures they have optimal visibility for their shots.

Let Faster Groups Play Through: Courtesy Counts

If you find yourself playing at a slower pace than the group behind you, it's a good practice to invite them to play through. This not only maintains a smooth flow on the course but also prevents frustration for both parties. Remember, a considerate gesture can enhance the experience for everyone involved.

Silence Your Devices: Distractions Are Unwelcome

While it may seem obvious, the importance of silencing your phone cannot be overstated. The golf course is a place of tranquility, and interruptions from ringing phones can be disruptive. Set your device to silent or vibrate mode before stepping onto the course, and reserve calls or messages for the clubhouse.

Dress Code Adherence: Class and Tradition

Respect for the game extends to your attire. Most golf courses have a dress code in place, which typically includes collared shirts, tailored shorts or pants, and golf-appropriate footwear. By adhering to these guidelines, you not only honor the tradition of the sport but also contribute to the overall ambiance of the course.

Elevating the Golf Experience Through Etiquette

In the world of golf, etiquette is the glue that binds the players and ensures a harmonious experience on the course. From tee to green, each gesture of consideration contributes to the collective enjoyment of the game. So, the next time you step onto the fairway, remember that proper behavior is as essential as a well-executed swing—both are integral to the spirit of golf.

[free-clubhouse-invite-codes-2021]

『100% Working』##Clubhouse Online Mobile App##

��♐How To Get In Clubhouse Without An Invite♐♐

CLICK HERE FOR CLUBHOUSE INVITE CODE 👉👉 https://rdrt.cc/caw6a

CLICK HERE FOR CLUBHOUSE INVITE CODE 👉👉 https://rdrt.cc/caw6a

Here's every thing to know about Clubhouse, the app that is quickly carrying social media circles by storm. Clubhouse creates a spot where people can meet up to server, tune in to, and sometimes, connect conversations over the app's community. After you start the app, you'll be presented with a list of rooms, along with an inventory showing who's in each chamber. It's possible to join the room by tapping on it, or initiate your space.

How To Get A Invite On Clubhouse

So far, many Clubhouse rooms have a TED Talk vibe, with one guest speaking and everyone else listening. Other users can join the conversation when deemed appropriate with way of a moderator, however based on the chat, this can be rare. There are always heaps of conversations happening at precisely the same moment, allowing users to jump between speakers and subjects based on their interests.

The clubhouse is the new kid on the societal media cube. In short, it's definitely an audio-based social media app, it's similar to a group of podcasts that you can communicate with.

It is real time conversations, no recordings, pretty low tech, and allows you to actually be societal on societal media! It is great for networking and relationship building and also a fresh way to understand. You currently need to have an invite to combine which can be causing the FOMO, more about this in a moment.

How To Get Into Clubhouse Without Invite

For somebody to invite one , you need to be on their contacts list on their mobile, this will mean sharing with your telephone number. I strongly recommend that if this really is a brand new contact, you swap a number of text messages first so you are certain your invite goes through.

If you are discussing an invite you most definitely wish to test this because if you send a invite and your partner doesn't pick it up, you lose it and it eventually ends up being a wasted invitation! Boo.

What I learned through this process is that somebody at the united states trying to invite a buddy who's out the united states should enter a exit code plus the region code of these own friend.

Clubhouse Online Mobile App

This is why testing via text first is essential. Once you are prepared, you might invite or receive the invitation. And then you are in -- WHOO-HOO. To invite the others you will locate the invites from the envelope icon. The more busy you are, the longer invites you to get.

The first thing todo is to establish your profile and then connect your Insta-gram and Twitter profiles all these are the only clickable profile connections out there. Use the cog icon to get into the preferences and observe the directions , it's pretty straightforward.

Clubhouse Invite Code Clubhouse Vs Instagram How To Invite To Clubhouse The Clubhouse App Clubhouse Invite Friends How To Get Clubhouse Invite Code Clubhouse Clubhouse App Invite Code Clubhouse Invite For Sale Looking For A Clubhouse Invite Clubhouse Invite Code Reddit Clubhouse Invite Android Buy Clubhouse Invite Clubhouse Social App How To Invite Members To Clubhouse How To Get Clubhouse Invitation

[sifaliyasam]

Sosyal medya bunu konuşuyor! Clubhouse nedir, nasıl üye olunur? Clubhouse'a davetiye nereden alınır?

Sosyal medya bunu konuşuyor! Clubhouse nedir, nasıl üye olunur? Clubhouse’a davetiye nereden alınır?

Sosyal ağ platformlarından biri olan Club House son dönemde popüler uygulamalar arasında yer alıyor. Dijital teknoloji çağını yakından takip edenlerin merakla araştırdığı bu uygulamada Facebook ve Instagram’dan farklı olarak video ve fotoğraf paylaşımı yapılmıyor. iOS kullanıcılarına indirme imkanı sunan clubhouse ile ilgili kullanımı, üyeliği ve davetiye zorunluluğu merak ediliyor. Sohbet…

[haberyazari]

Clubhouse nedir, nasıl üye olunur? (Clubhouse uygulamasında davetiye zorunlu mu?)

Clubhouse nedir, nasıl üye olunur? (Clubhouse uygulamasında davetiye zorunlu mu?)

2020’de kullanıma sunulan Clubhouse uygulaması son günlerde kullanıcıların en çgood enough merak ettiği sosyal ağ platformlarından biri. Kullanıcılarına sesli sohbet odaları üzerinden etkileşim imkanı sunan uygulama, davetiyeye dayalı üyelik sistemiyle, fb ve Twitter gibi diğer birçgood enough sosyal ağ uygulamasından ayrışıyor. Peki Clubhouse uygulaması nedir, nasıl kullanılır? Clubhouse’a nasıl…

[circleboom]

he Clubhouse app, which has lately gained a lot of traction after internet celebrities flooded there, has also gotten a lot of coverage. By choosing a different path from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, Clubhouse does not allow visual or written communication, setting a new standard in social media.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Eight - Sink or Float

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad's boss's son. He was the creep that stole girls' underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it's not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn't sleep with him, right? ...right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love

A/N: Shigaraki's been way too sweet lately. Time to put him in a situation where he's a brat again.

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[EXCERPT]

“We’re not just a corporation. We’re a family .”

That had been the theme of All for One’s latest self-aggrandizing speech, and she genuinely wondered how he got through it with a straight face. At least in this situation the topic didn’t come out of nowhere. After all, he was giving this speech over the loudspeakers of the company’s annual family picnic. 

Held at a fucking waterpark.

Picnic was a loose term. It was a seated, catered lunch in the water park’s big event hall — max capacity 500. And it certainly was close to max capacity. Nevermind the fact that it was November, apparently All for One believed that a bright, summer atmosphere was exactly what was needed to maintain morale through any quarter of the year if his “fun boss” Ralph Lauren Hawaiin shirt was anything to go off of. Besides, that’s why they built indoor water parks.

And events like these were great bullet point perks for the recruitment team, well worth the no doubt exorbitant price of renting out the entire place.

Yes, it was a mandatory fun event that her father made them attend every year without fail. But to be honest, it’s one that she didn’t mind. The luncheon itself was stuffy and pretentious with a summer semi-formal dress code that felt a little silly to maintain at a freaking waterpark. But that part only lasted an hour and since her father hadn’t quite risen to the upper echelons of the company yet, they were able to sit at the table with the rest of his department’s management team and their families, rather than the raised banquet table at the front of the hall with All for One and his VP’s. Then she was free to galavant the waterpark with her family.

And despite the strain the latest advancement opportunity in her father’s career had put on their relationship, she did actually like her family. She liked sitting in inner tubes side by side with her mother, chatting as they floated down the lazy river. She liked being dragged on waterslide after waterslide by her little brother who was determined to ride as many times as her stomach would allow, because without her, he was too short to ride most of them. She liked playing Marco Polo with her Dad who was notoriously and hilariously bad at it even when the rest of the family wasn’t cheating and getting out of the pool (which they always were).

So to be honest, she was pretty disappointed when things had turned out a little differently this year.

While her father hadn’t been invited to the head honcho table during the luncheon, he had been invited to drinks at the very exclusive and very snooty clubhouse afterwards. All of them had in fact. All for One, ever the matchmaker, had placed particular interest in wanting to introduce them to the VP’s who had children around her brother’s age. Much to her surprise though, her parents — knowing how much they enjoyed this event in its usual form — actually gave them the choice of how to spend their day. Her brother — who as of late was on a bit of an independent “I’m a big boy” streak — decided that he wanted to go and play with some kids his own age rather than his older sister. 

She however, with her last fancy-schmancy event with the Shigarakis still on her mind, decided to opt out and brave the waterpark alone.

A decision that, as she sat by herself on a lounge chair across from the wave pool, she was kind of starting to regret.

“Well what do we have here?” 

Okay, make that really starting to regret.

She didn’t recognize the dudebro that was suddenly blocking out her artificial sun. He was around her age and given his particular brand of swagger, obviously assumed that his Daddy had a higher position at the company than hers. 

His hair was even more styled and product-filled then her own and he’d obviously contoured his skinny-fat stomach into a crude six pack.

One word, two syllables: Douchebag.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a place like this?”

What the fuck else could she be doing? It was a family “picnic”, in theory she should’ve been near her family. It was besides the point that she wasn’t actually — the fact of the matter was that she was obviously not here to be picked up by little lost dudebros.

“I’m not alone. I’m waiting for someone actually.” she smiled politely.

“Oh, well it couldn’t possibly be anyone important.” he said, sitting down uninvited on her lounge chair just a little too close for comfort, “After all, no decent guy would keep a lovely lady such as yourself waiting.”

Holy shit, how much would it sabotage her dad’s career if she threw up on this Nice Guy™ right now? Because she was getting pretty fucking close.

Suddenly, a pale mop of hair popped into her periphery. One that — for a record-breaking second time — she was actually thankful to see.

She stood suddenly, arms raised and voice as shrill and lovey-dovey as she could push it, “Hey, babe!”

Shigaraki paused, looking over to glare at whatever dumb bitch had the right to be so loud and happy near him. So he was colored genuinely surprised to see his fuck buddy jogging up excitedly to him.

She latched onto him, pulling his bicep flush between her tits for the whole world to see, “I missed you so much!”

“What the hell—?”

“Just pretend, alright.” she hissed, nodding her head back to the douche canoe staring at them in offended astonishment.

Shigaraki smirked, suddenly understanding the situation. And determined to milk it for all it was worth.

“Oh, hey honey !” he cooed obnoxiously right back, slipping his arm around her waist.

Then he grabbed a tight handful of her ass.

She deadpanned, “Seriously?”

“He’s still watching,” his grin widened.

Damn, maybe she should’ve taken her chances with Mr. Hairspray.

“Oh my gosh, Baby!” she squealed, swatting at his arm playfully, “Not here! My Dad will see!”

She hazarded a look back to see the boy shaking his head dejectedly as he stood and walked in the other direction — clearly and obnoxiously licking his wounds and looking for the next piece of ass he could try and catch.

“Seriously, knock it off before someone sees.” she snapped back to Shigaraki,

He pulled her tighter into his side instead. 

“What, so you only want me when it’s convenient for you?” he teased, fingers playing with the hem of her swimsuit just over her hip, “That’s hardly fair.”

She shoved him away, “Hey pot, I’m kettle.”

Shigaraki decided to let her have that one, taking the opportunity to instead let his eyes roam shamelessly up and down her figure. She flushed instantly, embarrassed and irritated. She was just wearing one of her retired competition swimsuits— a definitively utilitarian and cleavage-covering one-piece — so she knew that he was making a show of his oggling just to fuck with her.

“I’m getting a smoothie.” she grunted, walking past him. 

Obnoxiously, Shigaraki took this as an invitation.

Continue on Ao3

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[primordialrp]

PRIMORDIAL EVENT 001 —

Everyone in Olympus knows exactly who Rhea Thane is. She’s a staple in this small town, and has been long before Cronus Thane came into the picture. As the long time Matriarch of the Thane family and the Primordial MC – There’s no question about a large celebration in honor of her 77th birthday. In true MC tradition, the best way to celebrate “Ma” is with a potluck party at the clubhouse. What better way to celebrate than with a good ole fashion party? All members of the Club, as well as friends of the MC have been invited to attend – Only if you bring a dish to share, and good spirits. The dress code is leather, and yes – Beer does count as a dish.

We're back, baby! To kick things off, we obviously had to celebrate a beloved NPC. This event begins on TODAY, APRIL 30TH and ends on SUNDAY, MAY 7TH so that everyone has a chance to participate regardless of timezone or schedule. However, in character it takes place on APRIL 30TH in game. Please tag all open starters for this event with #PRIMORDIAL:EVENT1!

[ceruleanchillin]

When You're At The Function F***in It UP And Your Man Walks In (Mayans)

Warnings: Implied sexual content, language, fighting

Characters: Angel, Coco, & EZ

A:

You’re on thin ice as it is sis. The little forest-green dress with the the deep plunge front and slit sides, the one that ended up purchased after your friends hyped you into it. That’s supposed to be in the trash according to one Angel Reyes. That, or reserved for private nights in.

Currently, it was wrapped around your form, helping you grab envious/admiring glances from around the room.

Your hips twisted to the layered bass, using the random behind you for stability. Your friend next to you cheered you on, her inner hype man on full display. There’s a breakdown in the song, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice telling you “Superstar mama, say hi for the gram!”.

Your eyes zone in on Gilly, eyes wide. Everyone knew the Mayans rolled deep when they went anywhere. Where there was one, there was the rest. Especially when it came to the three musketeers and their wrangler, EZ.

Like you were busted sneaking back into your room as a teen, you froze. You narrowed your eyes at your friend who shrugged and mouthed sorry before disappearing.

“Gilly fuck off!” You hissed, moving away from the random. Your eyes scanning the crowded den.

Gilly laughed, tucking his phone into his kutte. “Ayy, don’t get mad at me,” he fluttered his eyelashes and fake coughed into his hand. “I don’t feel so good baby, I’m just gonna stay in tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at his high-pitched mimicry of your last conversation with Angel.

He wasn’t even supposed to be there. Your friend swore she nixed all Mayan related invites, just for that night, on your behalf. All you wanted was to be able to turn up like you did pre-relationship. Normally you could at clubhouse parties since Angel trusted everyone there with his life. Any party outside of that was a gamble, and Angel could referee like he got a check for it.

Your eyes finally met said man’s across the party and a chill and went down your spine. Angel was propped against the wall across the way, eyes on you.

The rest of party fell away as you made your way over to him, schooling your features into your ‘what did I do daddy?’ pout.

“Nah, don’t come over with that lip poking now.” He shook his head, speaking when you were in range of him.

“And what are you doing wearing this fucking pillowcase out here? What did we talk about?” He pinched the thin strings of your dress.

“Nooo, don’t be mad. I was walking through my closet and it fell on me. Besides, you liked it when I modeled it for you.”

Angel scoffed, refusing to even entertain your comments. Coco chuckled from his spot next to his friend as he lit a cigarette.

“I thought you had club shit, I didn’t even know you’d be here.” You cringed as soon as the words left your lips, the shots you’d taken earlier still putting in work.

“I didn’t know you’d be here either. I thought you were sick. There’s some soup in the car that thought it was getting dropped off. Apparently wrong thoughts is the theme of the night.”

Petty by Angel Reyes.

“Soup? Baby, that’s so sweet.” You tried to pet his cheeks, but he was keeping you at bay.

“You aren’t even sick! Imma give that shit to Gilly.”

“Nooo.” You whined again, still trying to get him to let you touch him in some way.

“Get that bitch you were dancing with to buy you soup.” It was his turn to pout, but there was fire in his eyes as he tracked the guy you’d been dancing with. “It’s all he’s gonna be able to fucking eat in a minute anyways.”

“Sorry I blew up your spot ma, I just wanted to see my plug and get out.” Coco opened the palm of his hand not holding the cigarette and revealed a small bag of weed.

Angel snapped his head towards him, expression incredulous. “Don’t apologize to her, she lied to her man! She gave some puto hope! Get on code!”

“I love you hermano, but this is your guard dog-ass fault.” He pointedly ignored his friend’s heated glare as a girl in the doorway caught his interest, slipping away when she positively returned his gaze.

Angel’s attention was claimed by you once again when you pulled his head down towards you. You smothered his cheeks in kisses, to which he was physically unresponsive.

“I don’t know if I want you kissing on me querida.”

You rolled your eyes. Petty or not, everyone knew Angel’s life force depleted the longer he went without touching you. Even in your tipsy state you could see his fingers literally twitched with the need to take their rightful place on your hips.

“I just wanted to dance like I used to, and you don’t dance. Then you beat down guys who want to. You left me no choice, so let me have kisses.” You locked your arms around his waist, successfully avoiding his half-hearted attempts to push you away.

He scrunched up his face. “How the fuck am I catching strays in this situation? I’m the victim!”

“I’ll make it up to you later if you stop being a hatin’ wallflower and let me grind on you.” Your hips found the rhythm of the slow wind song thumping through the room.

His hands encircled your throat, drawing you closer to his person. Your pupils blew at his darkened expression, your lower half squirming with interest. He pressed his lips to yours, and the party faded to nothing again. His fingers flexed around your throat before closing just enough for him to draw the subtlest gasp from you. He felt it more than heard it over the noise, but it was enough.

He pulled away, licking his lips as you tried to remember where you were and if sin always tasted so good.

“You’ll make it up to me right now in the traitor’s car.” he held up keys you recognized to be Coco’s.

You started to protest on principle, but your body was going through withdrawals from a lite touch (for Angel). He could see the wheels turning, but you were letting him lead you out of the room, palm openly covering your ass.

“Who are you texting?” You asked, more annoyed with how his hands were no longer possessively roaming your body than a real answer.

He quickly pocketed his phone and returned his hands to you. “No one baby.” definitely not telling his boys via group chat to handle the random for him. “Stop worrying about anything other than how you’re gonna get around at work tomorrow.”

--------

C:

It was bad enough you couldn’t make it to New Orleans due to work, and Old Lady “responsibilities”, but this petty fight you were in with Coco was the kicker. You couldn’t even remember how it started, but it escalated back and forth until you weren’t speaking and were back staying at your apartment.

Poor Letty had been reduced to messenger girl, especially now that she had a car. A tug of war with your point being “she was my girl first, that’s how we met” and his point being “she’s my kid, blood first ma” had broken out. You didn’t know what was going to wear through its welcome first, your lack of Coco, or Letty’s patience, but they were competing. It wasn’t like Coco was doing any better if your daily updates from Letty were any indication. He was impatient, tense, chain smoking, and was getting closer and closer to going through with the apology call he was openly fighting.

It wouldn’t be long before you were back to getting your back arched out of shape if that was anything to go by. Not a moment too soon if your own miserable habits were anything to go by. You wanted to use the party to distract yourself, hoping Coco would break first the following day. If not, it was sure to be you.

You spent the whole day throwing your frustrations into decorating your best friend’s backyard. It looked like the French Quarter threw up its best years, but it was the perfect backdrop to lose yourself to some bounce music.

Normally, you could goad Coco into being your twerking post, and that resistance (plus his turned on bi-lingual hypeman compliments in your ear) was everything missing at the moment.

You pouted and weaved your way out of the crowd to your friend who was busy playing good hostess.

“Ah ah, no whining. If you wanna really make it Mardi Gras, shake your ass on a dude.”

You narrowed your eyes, annoyed she shut down and solved your problem before you could whine about it. “Coco hates that shit! Plus he’s spoiled me, it won’t even be the same.”

“Coco isn’t here, and it doesn’t have to be the same, it just has to do.” She turned away from where she’d filled two shot glasses for the two of you. “Besides, we both know your ass is gonna be all in his neck crying about how you miss him tomorrow. Do your thing before you go out sad.”

She clinked shot glasses with you, pleased at her accurate assessment and your sourpuss face.

“Fuck you.” You laughed, voice rough from the burn of the shot.

“Save that for Coco.” She smacked your ass, draped one of the many beaded necklaces hanging off her shoulder around your neck, and sent you on your way back to the crowd of writhing bodies.

It was nothing to find dudes to grind on, and you fell into the synergy. You couldn’t count how many fast paced songs you’d thrown it back to, or how many guys you’d danced with. The stack of beads you’d acquired gave some idea though.

Meanwhile, Coco’s skin was alive with the kind of anger he felt. He’d been seriously contemplating coming to your place and forcing out admissions of how his life wasn’t right without you in it. He couldn’t remember who or what started it, but it didn’t even matter when your scent was starting to fade from his pillow, and his touch starvation was acting up.

All of that went careening out the window when he stumbled upon a pouty Letty, huffing and sucking her teeth at her phone. Turns out you, and “everyone in the goddamn world but me” according to Letty, were at your friend’s blowout Mardi Gras party. Coco knew it was your favorite holiday, but it was news to him that you had any plans since you couldn’t officially go this year. News he didn’t welcome at all, since all of the videos he saw you in you were throwing (his) your ass on multiple dudes. Did you think he wouldn’t fight everyone???

He was already on his bike before he’d even registered leaving the house. He sent a quick summoning call in his boy’s group chat, your friend’s address the destination.

The party was louder and wilder than the videos let on. He’d already spotted his boys by their kuttes, mingling in their respective ways, but didn’t seek them out. They’d find him if he needed them to. Coco on the other hand, needed to find you.

His eagle eyes picked apart the crowd until he spotted you twisting yourself to the rhythm. Coco didn’t know whether to shoot the asshole behind you, or take you away to deal with the feelings you were bringing out of him.

You knew he loved when you brought the South to the West Coast with your hips and ass.

He charged into your space, his hands immediately going for the guy’s arm and snatching him towards him.

“Make a choice cabrón. Get the fuck out, or be an expensive bill and sad memory for your moms by morning.” He pressed his kutte to his person, emphasizing that he was strapped.

The guy raised his palms and quickly exited the scene. Unwilling to test what clearly was a warning that Coco would happily make good on.

You tugged on him, trying to get him to move away from the crowd. Scanning those around you to see who saw or heard, you noticed more than you would’ve liked. They wouldn’t make a fuss, noting his kutte, but still.

“Stop it. What are you even doing here?” You hissed, tugging his arm harshly for his attention.

He turned his gaze, wild with adrenaline and arrogance at his victory, on you. “You should’ve stopped yourself before throwing it back on random fuckers for the internet. This is on you.”

“No, this is on you. If you hadn’t done what you did or said what you said…”. You trailed off remembering that you couldn’t recall what had happened, just the frustration.

“What did I say or do (y/n)?” He noted your visible annoyance that he’d chosen to use your real name instead of a pet name, and with a smirk, he walked you backwards until your back gently hit the fence.

Between not recalling what started the fight, and your man looking amazing, you settled on a pathetic. “You remember.”

“No I don’t, and neither do you.” that familiar prickle of intensity sparked between the two of you.

Everything between you and Coco felt like a live wire dancing back and forth. High energy moments usually ended in either great sex, or separation (sometimes by the force of your friends) to let things cool down.

“I know you’re gonna catch a case if you keep moving like that Johnny. Is that what you want?”

“Nah mujer, that ain’t what I want. I want you home where you belong, but you’re out here playing me instead.” Slender fingers tugged sharply at a few of the beaded necklaces in your stack.

You sucked your teeth and turned your head, ignoring the warm cheeks and butterflies in your stomach at his on-brand admission of missing you.

He placed a hand on the fence next to your head, grasping your chin to turn your attention back to him.

“You’re being a drama queen. I thought I was talking to Angel for a second.”

He threw his head back as laughed, and you got an almost overwhelming urge to kiss him. Or at least bury your fingers in his soft curls, they were begging for it at this po-

“Fuck that, he’s still got me beat. Wait til you see the tantrum he’s saving for you for not getting invited tonight.”

“He was, I just told her to can it because of you. He should be mad at you.” You pouted, but your tone was teasing.

“I could put in a good word for you…you know, if you’re done being petty.” He leaned in, running his lips over the shell of your ear.

“Or I could just offer to throw it back on him to make him forget.”

It was your turn to laugh when Coco tensed, and pulled back from where he’d been teasing you with light touches. You didn’t love him no longer touching you, but faltering him made it almost worth it.

“Or you could take me home and we could both forget…” you clutched at his kutte, leaning into him.

He pulled your hands away by your wrists, his thumbs rubbing over your pulse points.

“Nah, if dancing is this fucking important to you, come on then.” He pulled you after him.

“Cocooo,” you whined, more interested in getting him to touch you again. “Take me home already.”

“My lady wants to dance.” He sat on the outdoor wicker couch and patted his lap. “So dance.”

You stood there in confusion for a second, before what he meant became clear. “I’m not doing that here!”

“You didn’t have an issue earlier, move those hips ma.” He looked between you and his lap again.

Could’ve been the way he was biting his lip, or the laid back way he rested against the couch, but that coupled with lack of access to him, had affirmative words running through your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes, faking like his request was that expensive. “Only because I want to get you home, and I know you’ll never quit whining if I don’t.”

You slipped onto his lap, the action already drawing attention from partygoers just for the potential of what was to come.

He grasped your hips to still you before you started to move, his palm pressing you back to him by your throat. “And don’t half-ass it yeah…or I might do the same when I get you home.”

--------

E:

It wasn’t until Creeper hit his shoulder and informed him of how hard he was smiling that EZ realized his cheeks ached. He couldn’t help it, he loved watching you dance more than anything.

As soon as you heard a melody you liked, you came alive to it, and stole everyone’s attention. You could find the beat on anything.

That wasn’t his sole reason for cheesing so hard though. Tonight had been the first night you brought your closest friends around the club, and he knew it took great trust in him, his brothers, and your relationship to do that. Your family was on the East Coast, so your friends filled that role for you. Coupled with EZ, they were your world and he thanked you everyday for letting him in.

“Gonna stop calling you boy scout if you keep enjoying the show this much.” Creeper took the seat across from him, half blocking his view.

“Oh you didn’t know how EZ gets down?” Angel’s lips formed that mischievous grin, his eyes taking on the same glint. “You should’ve seen him begging me for tales from Angel’s crib.”

“She and her girls look good out there. Might be too much for you junior.”

EZ rolled his eyes at the ribbing from his brothers, his grin still intact. “At some point I’m gonna be patched, I’m happy to make a cage date for that day. Pretty sure I can take both of you.

Creeper and Angel exchanged exaggerated incredulous expressions.

“See what happens when you go easy on the help?” Angel scoffed. “You sound like you’re hurtin’ for work prospect.”

“Could use some more water.” Creeper shook his water bottle at him, just barely missing splashing him.

EZ rose from his seat, empty beer bottle in hand. “Just remember that day is coming.”

Angel and Creeper laughed raucously at that.

“Don’t get your ass beat in front of your woman lil bro!”

EZ shook his head, choosing to ignore his dumbass older brother. and tossed his bottle in the trash. Slipping through the moving bodies until he was near you, he gently patted your friend who nodded and stepped from behind you.

You jumped, surprised at his sudden appearance, but settled back against him.

“Hey baby.” You gently encouraged him to follow the sway of your hips as he placed his head on your shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back on the slave clock, you want anything?”

You turned to him, his arms instinctively encircling your waist. “Hard tea please.”

“I gotta go to the trailer for that, and get the variety hour table over there a drink. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Don’t rush, but remember, you owe me a dance.” You cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He grinned goofily, his attention solely yours until he felt your girls draping themselves over him.

“Can you get us some too Zeke? Thanks.” “Preciate it Z.”

You giggled pushing them off him, but you knew he didn’t mind. You guys were a package deal and he’d take whatever you came with. At least their requests came with pleasantries.

“Sure ladies, not a problem. Don’t let anyone take her while I’m gone.”

They laughed, giving affirmative replies while you rolled your eyes pushed him towards the side door.

Once he began his drink fulfillment quest, it was like every brother wanted something from him. It was a full house that night and he should’ve known once he was no longer under Angel’s break protection, he was back to errand boy status.

Every task he completed was met with teasing about how his rushed pace clearly pointed to him wanting to get back to you. He didn’t argue the fact, just moved faster every time you were mentioned.

Finally, he was able to to focus on your request when he stopped being flagged down.

He was heading to the trailer when one of your friends stopped him.

“One of the other charter’s guys is annoying our girl. She doesn’t wanna make a fuss cause’..you know.” She gestured to his vest to signify his prospect status. “But I know she’s not feeling it.”

He could feel the the muscles in his jaw flex in anger, feet carrying him across the crowded yard. People moved before he could plow through them, which was just as well, because he wasn’t fully in control at that point, and didn’t think he could slow down enough to sidestep them.

The clubhouse had filled considerably since his absence. He scanned the room for you, finding you in a crowd of moving bodies. Your friend was right, you had a good poker face, but your man knew you.

He didn’t waste time physically separating you from the Yuma patch member. He gently put you behind his person, feeling your small hands press against his back through his vest.

“I’m good baby. He agreed this was the last dance.” Your voice belied your annoyance despite your words.

“I’m guessing he said that more than once.”

“I don’t mind, I know clu-“

Yuma interrupted you. “See, she doesn’t mind. Go find something to do with yourself prospect.”

“I’ve got a project in mind.” EZ pushed you back a little more to give himself room to work with.

“Be smart bare vest.” Yuma smirked, his eyes saying how much he’d love for EZ to make the mistake he was thinking about.

In the span of the next few seconds, Yuma’s vest and shirt was covered in beer and Coco had appeared at the same time. If the obvious way he was holding the bottle didn’t give away he did it on purpose, his dry “my bad” and shrug did.

Yuma swung on Coco who anticipated it and dodged it, before firing back with a successful punch of his own. A sea of Mayans of mixed charter filled the space and EZ quickly pushed you behind the bar before he lost you in the shuffle.

Understanding what Coco had done, he got in the middle to give the Yuma patch what he’d been asking for while he was covered by the chaos.

It didn’t last long before the presidents stepped in, but it didn’t have to. He was happy to take the few licks he’d received, because he was pretty sure he’d broken Yuma patch’s nose, and would get away with it.

His brother’s words against theirs, and the presidents didn’t feel the need to make it a drawn out issue. He pretended to have played bouncer instead of active participant, and it all ended with a basic chewing out.

His only thoughts were of you once his rage had subsided, and he could think clearly again. Had he scared off you and your friends? Embarrassed you?

He was happy to find that hadn’t. Your friends couldn’t help but fawn over him and how “perfect for you” he was. He especially enjoyed reveling in the jealousy of Coco, Angel, Gilly, and Creeper. Coco slightly less salty when he got praise for his efforts.

He got his admiration from you later when you patched him up in the trailer, soft voice telling him how sexy he looked to you, and how you appreciated him thinking of you in his position. You held his face and gently went over everything you could find, while he said on his makeshift bed content to let you.

He couldn’t stop grinning, the one that always got him mercilessly mocked because it was now associated with him thinking of you.

“Seriously EZ,” you dabbed at the final cut you hadn’t attended to. “Thank you.”

“I want you to feel safe with me, it’s only fair if you can accept all this shit.”

You grinned down at him, hair framing your face, and he had to remind himself to breathe at the sight. “I do, all the time.”

He cupped the side of your face, unwilling to fight the urge to kiss you any longer.

You laughed speaking between kisses. “I’m not done.”

“It’s ok, I’m good.” He chased your lips, unashamed to want you so badly.

“Ok,” you returned his kisses, your fingers dancing down the nape of his neck. “But I’d like to cash in that dance you owe me…you know, before we get too busy.”

He rose to full height, hands finding both of yours. “I can do that.”

AN:

I don’t speak Spanish, so if I made a mistake feel free to hop in my messages and let me know and how to fix it please. You’re more than welcome to.

1.) I remember seeing a meme vid about this years ago, and finding it hilarious. I could see this happening with these dudes and their personalities. That, and I just really wanted a lil southern culture in a Mayans drabble. 🤷🏾‍♀️

2.) I did a rewatch of the whole series (including the original), and I’m back on the obsession train. Just tryna to be happy before S4 kicks my shit in.

3.) I kept telling myself I wouldn’t end up writing for these fools and here I am in my Ringling Bros. best🤡.

[heybeybey]

Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

--

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

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