#I feel like less and less people understand what I mean and I feel alone lol
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itsnesss · 3 days ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 | miguel diaz & axel kovacevik × fem!reader
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summary | you feel conflicted after a beach encounter with axel, despite being with miguel. later, miguel encourages you to kiss axel to understand your feelings, leading to a complicated and intense situation with both men
warnings | smut, explicit content, threesome, oral sex (fem!receives), p in v
word count | 2.0 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
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The night had fallen over the bustling bar where your Miyagi-Do dojo was celebrating its advancement in the Sekai Taikai tournament. The music vibrated in the air as everyone enjoyed the victory. Laughter and conversations intertwined, but something was missing in the atmosphere. Something that only you could feel.
You leaned against the bar, surrounded by your teammates, but you felt Miguel's absence like a shadow over you. He had promised that you would celebrate together, but when the test was over, he explained that his mother had been taken to the hospital and he had to return to All Valley. He left hastily, leaving a bittersweet feeling in your chest. You understood, of course. Family came first, but the solitary feeling of being surrounded by people without finding comfort made you feel empty.
"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, breaking your trance, her gaze understanding.
"Yeah, just... I think I’m a little tired," you smiled, though it wasn’t the most genuine smile. "I'm going for a walk on the beach."
"Sure, take your time," she replied, offering you a friendly hug before heading back to celebrate.
The cold sand brushed against your bare feet as you walked along the shore. The sound of the waves and the wind tousling your hair were the only things you could hear. You felt small, as if the crowd in the bar was miles away, and all that was left was the echo of your thoughts.
It was then that you saw Axel Kovacevic, a guy who had demonstrated himself to be "invincible" in every tournament trial, walking towards you with a steady stride. You were surprised to see him there, outside of the competitive environment, and a sense of curiosity filtered into your mind.
"What are you doing here?" you asked, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"I thought a walk on the beach would be a good idea too," his voice was calm, but there was something in it that you couldn’t quite identify. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"Uh, no... it's fine." Though the situation was a little awkward, Axel’s presence made you feel less alone. You walked beside him in silence for a few moments before he decided to break it.
"How do you feel after the tournament?" he asked, looking at the horizon.
"Good... though I feel like something’s missing," you answered honestly, looking ahead.
Axel didn’t respond immediately. His eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made a shiver run down your spine. There was something in his presence that unsettled you. Something in his gaze that seemed deeper than just a casual conversation.
There was an uncomfortable pause. Axel took a step closer to you, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore growing fainter, as if the whole world was fading away around you.
"I see you... in a different way," he murmured, moving even closer.
Your heart started to race, and without thinking, a strange impulse made you take a step back.
"Axel, no..." you murmured, feeling the air grow heavy.
He looked at you, a flash of surprise crossing his face, but he quickly stepped away. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It’s not that," you said quickly. "It’s just that... I have a boyfriend."
An awkward silence settled between the two of you, but Axel nodded slowly. "I understand. I’m really sorry."
"It’s fine, really," you smiled, though the lingering tension still hung in the air.
After a few more minutes of walking in silence, you decided it was time to head back to the bar. You needed to be surrounded by your teammates, to try to forget for a while the interaction that had just occurred. But as you walked back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Axel’s gaze, the chemistry that had sparked between the two of you, and how, despite it being just a chance encounter, you felt that something had changed.
The next day, the tournament resumed. Miyagi-Do was on its feet, ready to face the next challenge, and you were determined to leave it all behind, especially what had happened on the beach.
Miguel arrived at the event by noon, as if fate had wanted everything to align for him to be there. When he saw you, a smile of relief crossed his face, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel whole again.
"I missed you," he said, taking your hand firmly, as if he never wanted to let go.
"I missed you too," you replied, though deep down, something still lingered in your mind. Something you couldn’t ignore.
Before the next match started, Axel appeared in the distance. You immediately noticed that his eyes were fixed on you and Miguel, and his face transformed into a mixture of jealousy and frustration. The intensity of his gaze made you feel uncomfortable, but before you could process the sensation, Miguel noticed his expression.
"What’s going on?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I’m not sure," you replied, unable to suppress a sigh. "Axel was on the beach last night."
Miguel frowned. "What happened?"
"It’s nothing, it’s just... there was something weird between us. But nothing happened," you tried to reassure him, though you weren’t sure if your words sounded convincing.
That night, as you walked with Miguel to your room, he broke the silence. "I’ve been thinking about what you told me. About Axel."
You stopped, looking at Miguel, confused. "What about Axel?"
"Look," Miguel started, taking your hand firmly, "I don’t want you to think I’m jealous, but I think there’s something between you and him. Something we can’t ignore."
Your heart skipped a beat. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miguel."
"I want you to kiss him," he said, with a sincerity that left you speechless.
"What?" It was all you could say. "Why?"
Miguel sighed, looking ahead. "Because I feel like you need to understand what you really feel. And I know that if you do it, you’ll understand it better."
You didn’t know what to think, but before you could say anything, Miguel led you to Axel’s room. And just like you, he looked very confused.
The air between you and Axel was charged, and as you approached him, all you felt was confusion. Why had you come here? What were they expecting from you?
Axel lifted his gaze, his eyes fixed on yours. "Do you really want to do this?"
"I don’t know," you answered, almost in a whisper.
But the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. Before you could think twice, Axel moved in and kissed you. The sensation was overwhelming, different from anything you had experienced with Miguel. It was something so new, so unexpected.
When the kiss ended, both of you quickly pulled away.
Your face was burning, and surprise was painted on Axel's lips.
Miguel approached you, and without waiting for you to recover from what had just happened, he kissed you again. The chemistry was different, but just as intense as it had been with Axel. All the confusion, stress, and adrenaline turned into a feeling of desire so strong that you felt dizzy.
"Do you like my girl?" Miguel looked at Axel in a playful manner.
The tension in the air was no longer uncomfortable or embarrassing, but sexy. Axel approached Miguel, they looked at each other, and when they kissed, the heat in the air intensified. Although you hadn't anticipated the reaction, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the intensity of their movements. Them kissing, the way their hands moved over each other's bodies, was something that made you want more.
"Can I?" you whispered.
Both looked up. Axel smiled, the tension in the air seemed to clear, and Miguel looked at you with burning eyes. "You must do it," he replied, his voice hoarse.
You slowly approached them, and without knowing what to do, both of them came closer. Axel began kissing you again, while Miguel took off your blouse. The situation was new to you, but the desire you felt outweighed any reservations. While Axel was kissing you, Miguel began to undress, and each of his actions made you feel hotter.
Before you knew it, you were without a blouse, only covered by your bra. Axel's attention was focused on him, and it was then that Miguel began to kiss your breasts. The contact was electrifying, and when Axel leaned in to kiss your lips, the sensation was unimaginable. Two mouths, two tongues, an intense kiss. The pressure of their bodies made you feel surrounded, covered, but at the same time, it was such a sexy sensation that you didn't want them to stop.
"Let's give my girl what she needs" Miguel ordered sexily, pulling away from you with a lewd sound.
Axel looked at you with bright eyes, as if he were a lion about to devour its prey.
The clothes gradually disappeared. They approached, naked, their erect penises, and you were the center of their attention. It was such an intense, overwhelming sensation that you didn't know what to do. But before you had time to react, Axel kissed you again as he pulled you towards the bed.
You lay down, covering your breasts with your arms, but Miguel quickly pushed them aside. "Don't do that, you're too sexy." The way they looked at you made it seem like they were going to devour you alive. You hurriedly took off your skirt, revealing your black silk panties. A hoarse sound escaped Axel's mouth as he put a condom on his penis.
"Ask her," Miguel said abruptly, looking at your vagina, "if she loves both of us."
"That's not necessary, I think we already know the answer" Axel replied confidently, before kissing you slowly and passionately.
While he was kissing you, Miguel moved closer to your thighs, and with a finger, he pushed aside your panties, revealing your vagina. "Fuck," he murmured. Your vagina was as wet as his mind had expected. He got to work with his tongue, and it didn't take long for him to make you moan with pleasure.
"Yes! Miguel" you moaned, arching under his tongue.
Axel looked at you, his eyes darkened by desire. "You look so sexy" he whispered.
Miguel continued working with his mouth, and just when you thought you were going to cum, he stopped. "Now it's my turn". He took off your panties and lay down on top of you.
Axel knelt behind him, eagerly waiting for his turn. The pressure of Miguel inside you was intense, but when he started to move, you couldn't help but scream in pleasure.
Miguel started fucking you quickly but intensely, as if he needed to fuck you right at that moment. You screamed and moaned with each thrust he gave you, but before you reached climax, he pulled out of you, and Axel took his place.
"I'm so hard" he gasped, thrusting his penis into you forcefully. "You have such a sexy body"
There was no time for you to recover from the surprise. Axel's thrust was quick and hard, and soon you found yourself screaming in pleasure as the two of them took turns fucking you. One after the other. One kissing you while the other fucks your vagina.
Miguel was the last one to fuck you. He was so hard, and the way he fucked you was so intense that it only took you a few seconds to come. It was such an overwhelming sensation that you screamed loudly, the feeling spread throughout your entire body. Axel lay down on his side, panting, while Miguel pulled out of you with the final thrust.
They collapsed onto the bed, all three exhausted, sweaty, but satisfied. There was a moment of silence among the three, a silence that was only interrupted by the sound of their breathing.
"Do you want more?" Axel asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on you.
"Yes" you replied without thinking.
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yrlocalghost · 3 months ago
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what i will say is that i think a very big issue for me right now with my appearance is just that due to stress and i guess just time, i feel like i have very visibly aged and probably look older than my age. and inherently there is nothing wrong with that but i kind of wish i could still pass off as young enough that when i say i haven’t really done anything with my life or anything, people are understanding and say that i still have time. i don’t know, i just feel like i am out of time
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mountain-lion-gremlin · 1 year ago
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you can still be physically nonhuman if you were awakened to your identity through the internet (like me!)
You can still be physically nonhuman if it takes you a long time to shift
You can still be physically nonhuman if you always knew since you were young
You can still be physically nonhuman if you don't know why you shift or how it works
You can still be physically nonhuman if you believe that there is no way to logically explain your shifts
You can still be physically nonhuman if you believe you cannot change your form from human
You can still be physically nonhuman if you are growing limbs of your creature
You can still be physically nonhuman if you want to look like a hybrid between nonhuman and human
You can still be physically nonhuman if you figure out you are clinical/delusional. (I don't know too much about being clinical so sorry!)
You can still be physically nonhuman if you believe in p-shifting
You can STILL be physically nonhuman if you have multiple different creatures/species
You can still be physically nonhuman if you are a therian, or otherkin
Do what you want forever people!! They are just labels!! There is no set guidelines to be physically nonhuman, do what feels right to you and embrace it!
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oh-cramity-its-amity · 7 months ago
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i love my friends so much. i feel like yesterday i had a lot of shit going on in my head and i woke up to my friend explaining things in a way that put my mind at ease. i dont feel as anxious anymore because i know i was overthinking. i think my dad said it best when he told me that he thought my wonderful brain of mine just wants to think problems are bigger than they actually are. he is right! im just inexperienced in life and half of the time im scared im doing something wrong but- HEY. i need to be more confident in making mistakes. making mistakes doesn't define me as a person!! i need to stop worrying about doing life right and just live for the sake of living and doing what makes me happy!!!!!!!
#thank u blake. u really helped#also nessa!! thank u for that reblog about your perspective on my one post about feeling lost career wise#it helps me to know im not the only one living this life because holy fuck i can feel confused sometimes because.. am i doing this right?#and you know what? theres no correct path that i think there is but im just not good without a direct direction. it makes me a little#anxious about things#i dont know if its because i have some form of a disorder but i function better when i plan stuff out and give myself something to#decompress the problems and thoughts because in my brain theyre just all stuck and clumped together#and that can get a bit scary and overwhelming!!!#im just glad i have people that care about me. it means literally everything to me#so even if i dont 100% reply dont think i dont care because literally any ANY advice or kindness you show to me means the world#we're all just living this little life and we might as well make the best of it#people care..... thats just.... its good... it makes me feel less alone that people do#i love my friends so much#evennnn if we dont talk every day or are only mutuals in passing!!! it literally means a lot if people show me kindness#like holy shit!!! your older than me? and your dealing with a similar experience??? and your telling me that its okay??? and that itll be#okay?????#like#just the reassurance that things will be okay and work out and that im not the only one dealing with a feeling like mine#idk sometimes i just feel like im crazy and like my thoughts make no sense?? you know?? but yall get it#im glad that i have people who are older than me in my life cause yall have experienced stuff that i can use to be better#like your life experiences can help me in a way that can make a difference on my perspective on things#its why i like talking to my coworkers. because theyve seen things and done things i havent and their perspective can teach me potentially#i just dont feel so overwhelmed with life when i talk to people who understand#i feel so young and yet old enough to know but even the people who are older dont know so im sort of on the right track i suppose depending#on how you look at it#so- im just gonna live my life and smile because!!! you gotta.#you gotta surround yourself with people who can enrich you and teach you things for the better and make you want to grow#some of you are like that#you may not know that#but that kindness means so much
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I think I've been touchy lately about my feelings of access to/participation in generativity. I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately by how much needs doing and how much disparate but necessary information I'm keeping in my head. I should probably get back into my thought maps for the work on the yard and house, because I think that will make it easier for me to empty my head when I'm not actively trying to work on something.
#i'm feeling a sinking recognition that i need to build a life for myself that's functional#even if it means accepting norms that i have been trying to cight for a long time in my relationships#boundaries are weird and hard and i've never been particularly good at them#but if the comversations i have with my clients are anything to go by#i have a solid understanding of how to identify and communicate them#i just don't seem to have the will to stand by my decision when push comes to shove#so people around me carry on doing what they've always done#and going all shocked pikachu face when i finally collect myself enough to remind them exactly how i feel about their behavior#oh i have no idea you felt like this!!!#why are you so angry and snappish all the time?????#i just don't have any idea what else you expect from me i already spend all my time thinking about what i expect you to expect of me?#what do you mean that's not the same thing as actually having open lines of communication with me and treating me like awhole fuckin person#i work so hard not to take my frustration out on anyone#to be kind and calm and clear when I talk#to love the things about them that i love and enjoy the time with them that i enjoy without feeling compelled to seek disappointment#asking for more or different just won't happen so what's the point of looking to feel hurt#and i do have a lot of different areas of my life that fulfill different needs of mine#so i understand that i'm lucky and should really probably accept that i am much less alone than I often feel#i just wish i had someone in my life who was both willing and able to see all of me with affection#or at least. someone who was willing and able to take on that role and who I am willing and able to trust with the role#therapy helps#my new therapist is nice and seems open and understanding#but i understand our relationship probably better than most patients given the circumstances#i know how important it is that she never be more than a facilitator of space in my life#she seems good at doing that and i appreciate having the space again#i don't really know what i want anymore but i know i'm tired of feeling unwelcome in my wholeness of self
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emdotcom · 9 months ago
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I changed my mind. Hater behavior is undeserved, when it comes to works, & idgaf about holding creators accountable when their games are mid, anymore.
#em.txt#now i only care about how you treat your workers tbh#so there are still series i hate. but now I don't want to be mean to people who put time & effort into making shit#this is about post shift 2. people were too fuckin mean to Rjac for a game he made for free#& as a bitch who loves that game a lot i see your criticisms i understand. but you're not gonna be mean to him abt this#that fucking teen that held that interview & told him he needed to be held accountable for his mistakes. god#he made this shit for free across four years. what can happen in four years? what did he work through?#to deliver you a free game. even if you don't fucking like the game if you invite a creator on to talk about their works#you don't fucking talk to them the way uyeah did. shit was cruel & uncalled for.#this game is fucking good but it's forever going to be burried as a game that's complicated with weird tutorials#ps2 is fun. you should try it. if you don't get it -- ask. I'll answer any question at any time#i will vc you i will write a text doc -- whatever you want. more people need to experience this fucking game#it's compelling in a way few games are to me.#i can homestly only compare it to rain world but not for a reason that's overt & easy to explain. more in how it feels to play#rather than what you do.#man. idk. i gotta learn how to talk about shit i love without being mean now#this started because i was talking mad shit to my friends & it asked me to stop because i was downtalking something she loved a lot#& i realized this isn't fun for people. i thought we were having fun but tbh? I'm just a mean negative bitch#& that's not fun. that's mean.#i have to redo this character arc from when i was 13 because i guess I didn't learn it the first time around#cynicism doesn't make you funny or cool. it makes you mean & unfun to be around. finding kind things to say is tougher.#if you can present your criticism nicely then maybe you can criticize too#but that alone does not a good critique make & it definitely don't make you fun at parties#listen. i am still gonna be a bitch. but i am going to be less of one.
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crocwork-clockodile · 1 year ago
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Having lived at home with my parents for the past six months or so, I've been eating better than I typically do when I live alone (and have to pay for my own groceries). I noticed the other day when I impulsively decided to weigh myself that I'd gained about 15 pounds since moving home, and really my initial response was a vaguely off-put 'Oh. So that's why those pants don't fit anymore.'
But I told my friends about it anyway. I was almost excited to tell them about it. Because it felt like finally, finally I had a Real Girl Problem. I could talk to my friends (like me, all cis women, afaik) about this Real Relatable Girl Problem that We've All Had. I could finally commisserate. I was experiencing Womanhood Properly for once, even though it was one of the more negative aspects of it. The fifteen extra pounds don't actually bother me that much; I'm still "skinny" by most metrics, as I always have been, and most of my clothes do still fit me-- but I've often felt somehow left out or like I just haven't been doing something right when it comes to being a girl properly.
I guess always being skinny and not relating to my peers about weight insecurity or being harassed by men are problems I should want to have. But honestly it just reinforces this feeling of being a child or some kind of inhuman sapient creature, playing at being an adult woman.
I think this is more of a neurodivergent masking thing than a maybe-not-actually-cis thing, and I guess my point is that womanhood is hard to perform for everyone, even those of us who like it here. I just want to relate to my friends and family members who all seem to have this figured out and are much more secure in their outward-facing performance of adult human womanhood than I am.
Anyway, I should be off to bed, maybe I can articulate this better in the morning
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years ago
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no, More active effort, More conscious consideration
#boo we HATE your [the implicit perspective that anything taking less effort / less thought is Good / an Improvement]#and it's like Getting Good at anything. Some element does become easier to navigate successfully?#great so now you can forever move on to devoting more conscious effort to Another element / really further evolutions of the same process#build on whatever understanding. if you realize something you thought was Correct seems not to be?#congratulations: it was inaccurate / too limited all along but now You know that. Better#thinking about [effort] thinking about [communication] means emitting a psychic blast doing all the Languaging of honing ideas#and b/c interactions are two way streets you get no guarantee anyone will listen / put effort into considering what they're picking up#it's a delight when someone Does happen to feel you're worth effort but everyone could be doing that on principle. they are not lol.#some actually not [jfc] comment on an akd interview like#they speak w/such precision they're used to not being listened to or understood like#well we'd have to ask them ofc but i won't even argue w/that concept lol#having One Chance To Get A Word In Ever like but you don't really when ppl misunderstand you which is an inevitability#and then made more likely by any number of factors. including not considering you worth the effort of Trying to understand#if they misinterpreted what you're conveying no they didn't; that's just What You Meant. double empathy style#gotta be out here figuring out The Approach when the outlier is ppl who do Not [only think you're worth effort as An Obstacle]#alleging how when you like urself you will now Earn Friends like the more i respect myself the more idc if i'm Interpersonally Beliked#the interpersonal relationship that Is guaranteed relevant of ''we're both people in the world & so already in relation in just that way''#i love to Socialize by being in public ''alone'' like clearly no i'm not & like getting to take up my bit of space / do my bit of a thing#while this fits into everyone else also having their presence; doing their thing; is >>>>> being with a group as its nth wheel for no reaso#the effort of what communication works w/what person in what situation#the effort of what navigation of the inherent mutual effect of your sharing [whatever System (like; physics style)] works out best / better#when ppl imagining this are still limiting it to Certain Interactions b/w everyone anytime as the ''ideal''....#sesame street was out here like. sometimes there's people wanting to be alone / who are ''unfriendly'' & they're still part of things#once again it's like kermit thee frog knows what's up. mister macabee old timey barkeep what should i do#furiosa as well lmao i should watch fury road again. i can sense it#you can't have much of a chitchat with her. and yet
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theabstruseone · 2 years ago
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I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:
Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.
The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.
The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.
The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.
Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.
The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.
Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".
He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.
This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.
Edit to add further developments:
Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.
Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.
The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.
The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.
The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.
TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).
This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".
This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")
X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.
Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.
The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.
One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.
Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.
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brick-van-dyke · 5 months ago
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A little ramble about Socialist Alternative, leftist radicalisation and privilege. Mostly a vent of sorts so it's going to be messy.
//TW: mentions of suicidal thoughts, effects of capitalism on mental health and physical health, mentions of systematic abuse and oppression, etc.
"What radicalised you?"
If you're familiar with Australian leftist politics or just been to an Australian university, you've probably heard this line from Socialist Alternative at some point, particularly if you're a young leftist. At first, I personally didn't know how to answer this, but now? Now I do:
That's the wrong question, it's not about what radicalised me, it's about when I realised I wasn't allowed to exist. I think my main distrust of socialist alternative can be drawn here, as much as I respect their activism (as much as I don't like certain other parts of it and the organisation itself because of how it functions and is set up, among other things) and how they've helped the movements around me grow, I don't like their ethics because it always centres on feeling in the right when, honestly, that isn't what this fight was ever about. It's not simply about what pushes people to some realisation that capitalism isn't working, for many of us, it's about realising when we noticed that we were broken clogs that would always be discarded; realising that we wouldn't even live past 30 in a system that sees us as faulty parts and that'll end with us either starving to death or choosing to kill ourselves to have some semblance of control in a system that is so damning that it actively tries to kill us. And no I'm not even exaggerating, especially when it comes to disability and generally most marginalised groups. It's actively hostile to people like us.
This is taking out one strong example for myself here, but I just feel like every interaction has had an undertone of not really understanding the gravity of what's at stake on an individual level. I think, like Marx, they really don't have anything to lose but their chains, but for the rest of us? We have our lives, something I think others just can't quite comprehend here when I say being anti capitalist isn't a political choice, it's a matter of life or death because here just isn't any other option in order to survive. Don't get me wrong, I agree with Marx on many things, but I do think there's a difference between able bodies, white, middle class activism because capitalism is uncomfortable compared to when you're a minority that's doing this to be allowed to exist, and specifically I think there's a powerful element of privilege that's ignored, especially in the case of socialist alternative. Again, I respect their activism, but this dynamic of power and push being from a white, abled and middle to upper class lens (yes there are people who are minorities within the org, but they don't hold power and much say imo) has led to, in my view, a distorted sense of reality and, more pressingly, policy and vision that is about saving the working class rather than making a world where labour isn't a price you have to pay in order to be allowed to exist. It's not just the exploitation of the working class, though that's a huge part of it, it's also how hostile this system is to people who can't be used; who can't work or who are seen as dirty or wrong for trying to.
So when asked "so, what radicalised you?" I can only really think to reply with "when I realised that wanting to die wasn't my fault, but the people around me that convinced me that my lack of ability to produce is somehow my fault and that I somehow don't deserve basic survival". Because that's the reality and I think, at least with the SAlt members I've spoken to, that isn't something that's really understood; the gravity of this situation on a personal level and that it's not as simple as doing something to make yourself feel good or to have a moment of pride, sometimes (or oftentimes) it's literally survival.
Most of all, I think what cements this for me is the reply I get to when I've asked (genuinely and in good faith) about allegations about their internal environment being "toxic" and "cult like" and, as I explained to them, this is from many different people from different friend groups who all don't know each other but have had he same experiences:
"They're just jealous of us and our activism."
But jealous of what? In a fight for survival, none of us have the opportunity to feel jealous over how it's done because this isn't about feeling a bit better, it's about being allowed to exist. I think this really is what made me realise that this isn't about the right to live for them, but the ability to feel good for fighting on the behalf of people like me and my friends. And, to me, that's something to have healthy caution over when pity is how people have tried to control minorities in the past, and in my own personal experience.
#personal#ok to rb#vent kinda??#I have beef with salt in general so maybe I'm biased but the way the members I've met so far just... don't comprehend this.#It makes me not really trust them especially when they say they're part of the working class/ are poor because they just. They don't Get It;#this isn't even JUST about doing what's right or realising that capitalism is explootative it's literally a life or death choice for me.#I can either 1) stop moving after my chronic pain becomes too much to “push through” and eventually not have any means of survival#or 2) end my own life to have some semblence of control#and to avoid the inevitable pain of being forced to work to survive despite the pain it causes#I'm not sure if I worded this well but Salt feels absolutely not safe for people like me due to the way they treat people like me#and speak about our oppression#I think there's a lack or really understanding the bigotry behind ableism and queerphobia among many other things#They don't understand how being disabled means being poor and how they interlink#They don't get that having chronic pain means making it to class is a struggle and that finding work is extremely difficult#That welfare in order to have a chance at living independently is a constant battle of constantly proving that I'm in “enough” pain#and that “enough” is never enough to be granted enough money to live independently#They don't understand that when people suoport you it can be a 50/50 chance of genuine care or the desire to use you;#for pity and attention or money#for being able to use you to make others pity uou and then them and get free shit#or to just control someone who's “easy” to control#which makes living independently become even more of a must#but that alone becomes a battlefield of trying to survive in a world where you can't work most jobs#And study becomes less and less obtainable as you realise the gap between you and everyone else#because you're always absent and always behind#It's the systematic struggles that continually add up until you're drowing#It's pushing past your own healthy limits just to exist#and for what?#So yes my life radicalised me because I don't feel that I have any alternative choice#Because I and people who also experience this are desperate now because this system doesn't allow for people like us on a systematic level#It's not even about the crimes or exploitation even that “made me realise” it's the everyday systematic aggression since I was born
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touchlikethesun · 8 months ago
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#i would sorta like to understand how my parents can say such unbearably cruel things to my face#and think that they’re helping me#i get that other people in my life might not tell me the truth bc they don’t want to hurt me#but there’s a difference between being honest and being cruel#between being realistic and projecting your own dissatisfaction#and in the same breath they’ll ask me why i have no confidence in myself and tell me that i’ve wasted all my potential & it’s too late for#like#not that everything is their fault i am entirely responsible for not planning better#but how can they say something like that and think that they’re doing me a kindness#it just does not compute#this conversation happened yesterday and it was an hour of them venting their frustrations at me#frustrations that i fucking share!!!!! just for the record!!!!!#and then getting mad when i didn’t respond with some sort of hail mary like actually everything was fine#like what did they expect me to say#it also feels just so manipulative how much they insist that they are the only ones that care about me#that no one else in my life is reliable#which is already something i believe bc who would ever want to put up with all my bs outside of brief dinner parties#but i also can’t rely on them because everytime i have they’ve turned it against me like a weapon#so doesn’t that just mean that i genuinely have no one??? that i’m genuinely alone???#and i know i know they are like this because of their own trauma and their own issues#but i can’t manage myself much less manage all their emotions#it’s just such an awful situation#i’ll stop there the longer i type the more i spiral#but i am just extremely disappointed in myself that i couldn’t hold on to my good productive mood from last week for even a single day#after getting back#personal#vent
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suguann · 8 months ago
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✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]
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You like your new roommate.
Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 
He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 
He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.
Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.
“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 
Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”
He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”
The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 
You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.
A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 
His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?
(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.
If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)
For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.
“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.
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You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 
It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.
When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.
Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 
The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
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You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.
It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.
Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.
"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."
"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."
His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.
"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."
There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 
A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 
No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.
He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.
“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”
You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.
“Answer me.”
An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 
He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 
“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”
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nightingale-prompts · 3 months ago
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You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt
Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.
This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.
"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."
"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.
The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.
"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."
"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.
The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.
"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.
"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.
Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.
"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."
The teens's lip curled.
"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.
"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."
"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."
"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.
"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.
"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."
"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."
Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.
"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.
"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.
"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.
"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.
"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.
"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.
"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.
"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morpheus." Constantine said.
The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.
"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"
The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.
"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.
"You wouldn't." He frowned.
"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."
The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.
"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.
"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"
The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.
The room went silent.
"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"
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isuckatwritingsobenice · 1 year ago
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)
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Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.
Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.
“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.
Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?
Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.
He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.
If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.
He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!
It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~
You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.
He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.
He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!
He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.
When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!
Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!
His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.
He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.
One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.
Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.
Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.
He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.
Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.
“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”
Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.
He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.
He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)
He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.
The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.
Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.
You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!
He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.
He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.
Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.
Now let’s talk about Vox.
Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.
He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.
Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.
Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.
Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
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Talking in a group chat with some fellow author friends earlier, and the subject of our book reviews came up. As in, "What's the favorite thing anyone's ever said about your book?" type thing.
I had to pause and think about it because people have said a lot of nice things about my work. That it's the queer goth love child of Jane Austen meets Terry Pratchett, for one. That Nathan's disability arc meant the world to them. That Vlad's blatant neurodivergence made them feel seen. That Ursula's profound loneliness made them feel less alone.
But the one thing I see time and time again that makes me smile is the word "comfort." So that's the one I went with. That people find my work comfortable.
So you can imagine my surprise when someone chimed in going, "Noo, don't say that! Your work is so good!"
I won't lie, it took me a solid ten to twenty seconds to realize that she thought someone describing my work as being "comfortable" was an insult and not one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.
And maybe I'm just several types of mentally ill, chronically ill, and too beaten down by the world, but I do not understand what is wrong with comfort. Comfort, for me, is a physically unobtainable goal. You might as well rank it up there with getting transported into another world and becoming Queen of the Fae. For me, reading comfortable narratives where people get taken care of with compassion and love is a fantasy.
And, like, just objectively speaking, something being comfortable doesn't mean it's not good.
It doesn't mean it's not thought provoking. It doesn't mean conflict-free or lacking moral dilemmas. It means people feel safe reading it, knowing those things will be resolved.
I'm not trying to keep my readers on edge with anxiety, always wondering where the next plot twist will come in. That's not my style of writing. It's not my goal. It's fine if it's yours, but like... Comfort is not an insult, and it makes me a little sad to think some people think it is.
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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago
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Until the Last Loop: Familiar Faces
(Days spent with them making new memories- a silent attempt at forging a new life before it will be ripped away once more)
Poly mercenaries 141 x princess reader
Part One
The castle breathed with life and the scent of burning tallow, but to you, it might as well have been a tomb. Its towering walls and narrow corridors, carved from cold stone and lined with faded tapestries, had grown too familiar over the cycles- prisons that wore different faces but caged you all the same, and you were the bird locked within it each life, merely with different feather each time.
You sung the same melody, regardless. A melody that would soon be snuffed out.
You moved through the halls like a shadow, your impending doom hanging over you like clock that never stopped ticking until its last moments. Servants parted for you without meeting your gaze, and although whispers followed in your wake, they no longer stung the way they once had. You had long since grown used to the weight of their words, their gazes full of pity and disdain. They had become just another layer of the endless loop, a reflection of your precarious standing with the royal lineage.
But the men- the four who trailed in your footsteps, sent by your father to report all your moves back to him with the excuse of protecting you- were different.
They were a presence you couldn’t shake, no matter how many lifetimes passed. Always close, always steady, their shadows filled the empty spaces others left behind. And unlike the others, they weren’t afraid to look at you.
In some lives, you despised them. What comfort could four men give you when all you wanted was your father’s love? Your people’s adoration? Friends your age? None whatsoever.
In other lives, you had been distant. You kept them at arms’ length, unwilling to even converse with them. They were of no use to your desperation to free yourself from this cursed cycle.
You’ve lost count of how many loops you’ve gone through. Even now, you do not know how it started; who started it. A cruel curse, that’s what it was, and you were its constant victim. It was inevitable, so why… keep away the only people willing to be near you?
And so this time, you let them close.
Soap was the first to slip past your walls, an unsurprising fact.
It was late when you found yourself sitting in the gardens, the air sharp with the chill of night. The roses were dying, their petals curling inward as frost crept along the edges, and you wondered- just for a moment- how many times you had seen them bloom and wither like this.
Too many times.
You were alone with him; no maid or lady-in-waiting was willing to accompany you, though rather than saying that, they jusy boldly lied and said they had prior arrangements to the king.
The king. Your father. It was always him. You wished he’d hate you a little less, just enough to not rob you of the care you’ll always long for like a child stumbling through the cold for a flicker of fire, of warmth.
Wistful dreams.
Soap sat down beside you without invitation, though his presence didn’t feel unwelcome. His easy smile was softer in the moonlight, and when he offered you his cloak, you didn’t refuse it.
“You look like you’re waitin’ for somethin’,” he said, voice low but steady, starting the conversation. By now, they’ve come to understand that you are… so different from whatever everyone said of you. You were quiet, your presence squeezed and molded into a tiny nook of the castle so easy to forget.
You didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. The words came slower, heavier now- weighted by too many winters and too many deaths.
“I think it’s waiting for me,” you breathed out, fingers brushing the edge of the cloak. The flowers fluttered when a breeze blew by, bending in the directionaway from you; they pitied you, too, for not even they’d be placed upon your grave once you were dead. “… My end, I mean.”
Soap didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to deny it, either. He did not have any loyalty to the king or keeping his secrets; no mercenary would bother even if they’d lifk the king’s hand for his gold and coins.
Snakes, all of them. And yet- they were the ones who got to live, so the last laugh was theirs.
“Well,” he said instead, leaning back on his palms, “if it comes knockin’, ye just let me know. I’ll handle it.”
You almost smiled. Almost.
Soap didn’t leave right after that, like you expected.
He stayed, stretched out beside you on the stone bench like he had nowhere better to be, his broad shoulders relaxed but his eyes sharp as they roamed the shadows pooling in the corners of the garden. The scent of dying roses lingered in the air, sweet and cloying, and you wondered if he noticed the way your hands trembled when you smoothed the cloak over your lap.
If he did, he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he tilted his head back and gazed at the stars, his voice softer when he spoke again.
“Ye know, my mum used to say the stars are just folk lookin’ down on us,” he said, accent curling thick around the words. “Watchin’, guidin’… makin’ sure we dinna wander too far off the path.”
You blinked at him. “And what if the path leads… nowhere?”
Soap turned his head to look at you then, eyes dark. “Then ye make yer own.”
It was such an earnest thing to say, so full of conviction that it made something in your chest twist painfully. You couldn’t tell him how many times you’d tried to do just that- tried to fight and claw your way toward a different ending, only to be dragged back to the start again.
Soap didn’t know. None of them did.
And yet, as you sat there with his warmth seeping through the cloak and his words lingering in the air like a promise, you found yourself wishing- just for a moment- that he was right.
That you could carve your way out of this nightmare and leave the endless cycle behind.
But that was foolish.
So instead, you leaned back against the bench and let your eyes drift shut, pretending not to notice the way Soap’s hand hovered near the dagger at his side, ready to draw at the first sign of danger.
Pretending you didn’t feel safer for it.
Ghost was harder to pin down. He lingered on the edges, silent as your grave, but his presence was impossible to ignore.
When the nightmares came- and they always did, another constant- you found him at your door. He never asked questions, never pried. He simply stood guard, silent, until the trembling stopped.
One night, when sleep refused to come after a day of listening to awful, false whispers of you, you found yourself seated on the rug in front of the hearth, staring into the flames. Ghost leaned against the wall, his mask a stark contrast against the flickering light.
“They won’t hurt you.” He said suddenly, rough and low.
You didn’t look at him. You watched the flickering fire, and was rewarded with whispers of the lives where you’d been burned at the stake. “They always do.”
“They won’t.”
And maybe it was foolish, but for once, you almost believed him.
You pulled your knees closer to your chest, eyes fixed on the flames as if they could burn away the memories pressing in from all sides.
Ghost didn’t move from his place against the wall. He was a silhouette in the firelight, broad shoulders and sharp angles, the hollow black of his mask turning him into something almost otherworldly.
You didn’t ask why he was there. He never explained himself, and you never pushed.
After a while, he broke the silence again.
“They’re scared of you.”
His voice was quiet, still rough like gravel, but it cut through the room as sharply as any blade.
You swallowed, your gaze still locked on the fire. You couldn’t look away. “No. They hate me.”
Ghost didn’t argue. He let the silence stretch, his eyes never leaving you.
You weren’t sure why that bothered you more than words would have.
“They’re scared,” he repeated finally, slower this time. Firmer. “And scared people do stupid things.”
You let out a short, bitter laugh. “Like cutting off my head?”
Ghost tilted his head, and something about the way he looked at you made your chest tighten.
“They won’t get the chance, princess.” He said, and there was something cold in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.
You turned to face him then, finally meeting his gaze. Or at least, what you thought was his gaze beneath the mask. It was impossible to tell, but you felt it- heavy, unflinching.
“You can’t stop it, Ghost.”
Ghost didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. “Watch me.”
The words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have mattered when you already knew how this would end- how it always ended. Those words were treacherous to whatever the king wanted and expected of him.
But as the fire crackled and the shadows danced along the walls, you let yourself believe him. Just for a little while.
Because Ghost wasn’t the kind of man who made promises.
And yet, when he spoke, it sounded like one.
… yet you knew, not all promises can be kept.
Gaz was gentler than the others. Thoughtful. Attentive in a way that made your chest ache, because it had been so long since anyone had looked at you without seeing the stain on your birthright first and you second.
He helped you practice with a dagger one afternoon, though you both knew it wouldn’t be of much use to you. The sharp clang of metal rang out against the training yard walls as he corrected your grip, his hands warm against yours.
When was the last time you’d been held like that?
Far too long ago. Far too many lives ago.
“Careful,” he said, guiding the blade down in a smooth arc. “Keep your stance steady.”
You frowned. “What does it matter?”
Gaz tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
And wasn’t that the cruelest part? That no matter how many times you died, you always woke up again?
You didn’t answer, and Gaz didn’t press. Instead, he let you lean into him when the weight of it all grew too heavy, when the weight of more than just the training pressed down on you.
Gaz stayed close after that- close enough that you started to notice the small things.
The way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than they should, watching for signs of exhaustion or the fear you tried so hard to hide. The way his touch was always secure but never overbearing, grounding you without demanding more than you were willing to give.
He made you feel… safe.
It was dangerous.
Foolish.
But you let him stay anyway. You stayed with him anyway.
The dagger gleamed in the sunlight as you practiced another strike, the blade slicing cleanly through the air. Gaz nodded approvingly, stepping back just enough to give you space, though his presence was still a solid weight at your side.
“Better,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “You’re getting the hang of it, princess. Maybe you’ll give us a run of our money, eh?”
You lowered the blade, breathing hard as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be humorous “I’m not sure it’ll matter in the end.”
Gaz frowned at that, stepping closer. “Don’t say that.”
You almost laughed. Almost. “You don’t understand.”
His hand came up then, gentle as he tilted your chin to face him. The look in his eyes knocked the breath from your lungs- steady and sure, like he was trying to hold you together with sheer force of will.
“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, voice low. “But I do know this- every time you get back up, it matters.”
You didn’t realize you were trembling until his hand dropped to your shoulder, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.
“Don’t give up yet, princess,” he murmured, softer now. “Not on yourself.”
It was almost too much. Too kind. Too hopeful.
You wanted to tell him that hope had no place here- not in this endless loop of death and betrayal and grief. Not in this damned castle- but the words wouldn’t come, caught in your throat like fish in a net.
So instead, you let him take the dagger from your hands, let him press it back into its sheath before leading you toward the shade of the courtyard’s edge.
And when he sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed, you didn’t pull away.
Because for once, it didn’t feel like a burden to be seen.
Price was the hardest to read.
He was steady, commanding- his presence filled the room like the smoke of chimneys, lingering long after he was gone. He carried himself like a man who had seen too much and lost too many, and sometimes, when he looked at you, you thought you saw the ghost of something more.
He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words stayed with you.
“Do you ever wonder, princess,” he asked one evening, standing by the window with a wooden cup of mead in his hand. You didn’t know how he’d even snuck it in, but you weren’t going to snitch. “if we’re all just pieces on your father’s board?”
You blinked at him, startled by the sudden question.
“All the time.” You said.
His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and there was something unreadable in it.
You wanted to ask what he meant, why the sudden question, but he turned away before you could, leaving you to sit and stew with the thought.
And stew you did.
Because Price wasn’t wrong, was he?
You already knew your father had lied- about these mercenaries, their orders, everything.
They weren’t here to protect you. Not really.
No knights would take you, no nobles wanted you, and no one in the kingdom would lay down their sword for a bastard-born princess whose only crime was existing. Yet here they were, these hardened men, mercenaries paid in coin and silence, assigned to watch your every move.
Not guard you. Watch you.
Keep you until the day you were dragged to your death once more.
You’d known it the moment Price first stepped through your door, his eyes sweeping the room like he was cataloging exits instead of protecting them. The others were subtler- Soap with his easy charm, Ghost with his patient silence, Gaz with his careful words- but Price?
Price didn’t even try to hide it.
And maybe that was the worst part.
Because he didn’t look at you the way others did. He didn’t sneer, didn’t pity, didn’t hate. He looked at you like he was waiting.
Waiting for what?
For you to run? To slip up? To hand him the excuse he needed to drag you before your father in chains, so he could take the money and leave?
The thought made your stomach twist.
Because no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter- that the loop would end and begin again, and none of this would last- it still sank its claws into you.
And the next time Price caught you watching him from across the room, you didn’t look away.
Not at first.
He held your gaze, steady and unreadable, but there was no malice in it- no sharp edges or hidden teeth. Just something quiet. Something that almost felt like understanding.
When you finally turned away, you expected the weight of it to linger, to drag down your shoulders and settle in your chest like an unwelcome puff of smoke.
But it didn’t.
Instead, you felt the faintest flicker of warmth- barely there, fleeting as a dying ember- and hated how much you wanted to hold onto it.
Days turned to nights, and the hours slipped away like sand through your fingers. The loop pressed closer with every tick of the clock, and yet…
You didn’t feel so alone this time.
They were there- in the quiet moments, in the chaos, in the shadows of your worst fears- and though you knew it wouldn’t save you, you still let them stay.
Because this time, you didn’t have the strength to keep them away.
This time, you… wanted to have fond memories before your death.
Masterlist | Part Three
I hope everyone’s been enjoying this so far! Any guesses on why reader is in a time loop and who might be responsible? :3
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