#This is a call for information on their stream

[girl-lostconnection]

Babes, I just need another dad joke from Ghost please 🥺 I'm a slut for them.

I can give you a few actually. One of these I used previously in Unsweetened lemonade, but I love it too much.

1.

“What came first — chicken or egg?”, Simon drops a question on you out of a sudden, when your fork is halfway up to your mouth. You hum in question, your brows furrowing. What’s up with philosophical moods out of nowhere? Since when he like these kinds of questions.

But Simon looks at you, practically vibrating with anticipation and you jerk your chin up in question and watch how his eyes crinkle with the force of his grin.

Oh, this can’t be good.

“The rooster did”, he announces, actually cackling when you smack his shoulder, blush creeping up your face. Fucking insufferable this man and his jokes are.

2.

The mission is taking longer than expected, rain pouring down like it wants to fucking drown you but the steady stream of information from Ghost in your comms makes it somehow tolerable.

Not the worst conditions you worked in, at least you found some semi-dry part of the roof to hole into while you wait with a sniper rifle, eye pressed to a scope.

��How do you call a medieval spy?”, Ghost suddenly asks and you can’t help the twitch to the corners of your lips. Fucking hell, here it comes.

“How?”, you murmur quietly, laying in the shadows and rubble, not moving an inch of your body while you wait for a target to arrive at the place.

“Sir Veillance”, he shares like it’s a good joke and now you never can tell him that it’s not because your shoulders visible shake with silent laughter as you press your eye harder to the scope. Can’t get distracted on the job no matter how fucking ridiculous it gets.

“Have one for you too, L.T.”, you say and you know he can hear that your voice is a little breathy after laughter. When he speaks again you can feel the force of his smirk, the smug bastard enjoys making you laugh a little too much.

“Give it to me, sergeant”

“Why Sir Veillance would wear only leather?”, you prompt and fall silent for a few moments, giving Simon time to think about the question. He hums after a beat, eyes still monitoring the surroundings

“Why?”, he finally asks you and maybe you understand why he has all these cheesy dad jokes. Gives a right little kick.

“Because it’s made of hide”, you announce and your voice is shaking with laughter, breaking into practically a whisper as you force it down. There is a silence over the comms and then a small hoarse crack — barely half a chuckle.

“Not bad”, Ghost finally says and you can hear smile in his voice, your own grin widening. “Now eyes on the spot, we have our target arriving at the place”

“Roger that, sir”, you murmur, pressing yourself lower and curling a finger around the trigger.

Soap will tell you later not to indulge lieutenant Riley and his one dry sense of humour but you come to find out that maybe, just maybe, it does work on you a little too well

[eggfriedricedwasian]

TimKon clone baby au but Tim heals after creating the baby.

Tim disappears after achieving Bruce back from the time stream, well he sent the information on how to get Bruce back from the tim stream rather.

The fight with Ra's, the LOA, all that happens, except, once he's fixed up, he leaves. Drops off the radar.

He's still severely unstable. Almost as if he's catatonic.

But he makes it to the lab, freeing the growing baby from the green liquid, grabbing the thing no, girl, this baby, his baby, was a girl.

He has a daughter.

Daughters are the most precious thing the world can offer.

He now has the most precious thing in the world. The most precious little girl he's ever looked at.

Hell hath no fury like a mother without a child.

So Tim drops off the radar. He goes somewhere secluded, cheap, and away from crime and heroism.

He raises his daughter, he fixes himself, he learns, she learns, he grows, and she grows up.

While he's being the best most doting dad in the world to his daughter, little Mary-Jane Drake-Wayne(-Kent), the Bats, with the newly returned Bruce, look for Tim.

Kon and Bart, who returned from the dead, also look for Tim.

Kon, of course, was the one who finds Tim first. Tim and a baby. An 8 month old baby.

This baby has fair skin, wavy bed headed locks, and bright blue eyes. This baby was on her stomach with her head up, hair standing up all over the place, looking at Kon, while snuggled in the crook of Tim's arm.

Tim was sleeping, legs curled up on his side with his arm out underneath the baby girl and his hand resting on her back.

"Ah"

The sound of the baby's voice snaps Kon's attention to her. She's so small and yet so big. Since when did Tim have a kid? And with who?

Tim stirs awake slowly and Kon holds his breath.

"Mmm.. MJ, what are you doing up so early, sweetie?"

Tim turns on his back, putting the baby called MJ(who is in the most adorable Superboy onsie ever) on his stomach.

Mj doesn't turn her head to him, eyes still transfixed on Kon's figure.

Tim turns to look over and sits up, pulling MJ closer to him chest, hugging her tight, and pulls a knife out from under the bed, backing up towards the wall.

"Hey, hey, it's just me, Tim."

"N-No! I don't know who you are, but you aren't Kon!"

It pains Kon to hear that.

"It is me."

Tim shakes his head.

"If it really was you, you'd tell me something only him and I know.

"One time, when we were on Young Justice, you almost gave away your secret identity to me before Batman said you could, but you did it anyways."

Tim seemed to calm at that. He slowly puts the knife down, and back where it was.

"H-how?"

"Tim travel stuff. Was with the Legion of Heroes in the future recovering for a bit before they sent me back."

That would explain it.

Tim slowly scooted off the bed, standing, but not letting go of his baby. God his baby.

They stand in silence for a while longer, looking between each other, and Kon between Tim and MJ.

"Who's the mother?"

He asks. He's not sure why he did. Why would he care?

Tim seems taken aback by the question. But he avoids it, smoothly, as if he was preparing for this scenario, in this way or another, to happen.

"You can join us for breakfast."

Kon agrees.

The kitchen is small.

It has a counter island protruding from the wall acting as both a counter space island and a table. There were two chairs at it, plus a high chair.

"Sit here, baby."

Kon hears Tim whisper to MJ as he sets her down in the high chair.

She fusses very little as she gets buckled in. She settles just as fast when Tim gives her a toy. It makes noises as she swings it around, smiling brightly.

She has Tim's smile. Kon thinks distantly, looking at the way her cheeks squished and her gummy smile showed. The dimpled weren't Tim's, though.

When Kon looks at Tim, he doesn't know what to expect. Tense? Sure. Shaking? Maybe.

He wasn't expecting Tim to be smooshing bananas in a bowl with a fork, putting a baby spoon in it and putting it in front of MJ for her to eat, all with a small smile on his face.

A smile he's never seen before. It's domestic. Motherly sort of domestic. His eyes are crinkled, his smile is so full of love for the little baby laughing and making a mess of her face, chair, clothes, and bib while she ate mushed bananas.

"Tim.."

Tim's smile falls shortly down, if he wasn't watching all that closely he wouldn't have seen it.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"... Pancakes, if that's alright.."

Tim nods, turning and grabbing an apron, putting it on.

The apron said "World's Best Housewife" on it.

He grabbed a bowl, a pan, flour, eggs, oil, butter, milk, and chocolate chips and whatever else.

He made the batter, started up the heat on the gas stove, then added the batter, before plating and placing the pancakes, three on each. Syrup sat in the middle, which both of them drowned their pancakes in.

They started eating in silence next to each other. MJ's baby noises were the only thing that kept the silence even remotely tolerable.

"She's a clone..."

Tim started.

He looked at Tim shocked. Of course he was shocked. She was a clone!

"...Of us.."

Kon's heart stopped beating for a second. If the white noise generator wasn't going off somewhere in the house, he was sure he could hear Tim's heart beating really fast.

"...that I made."

Kon's world took a turn.

Tim Drake, his best friend, his Robin, someone he had confided in about his upbringing as a clone, made MJ out of both of their DNA in a lab as a clone.

"What."

He no longer felt hungry. He felt.. He didn't know what he felt. There were so many mixed emotions going through him right now.

Anger? His best friend cloned him after he told him how he hated being cloned.

Joy? He has a daughter. A daughter Tim made. Why did Tim make her?

"It was a hard time for me. I lost you, Bart, my dad, and then Bruce. I tried to clone you and Bart, and I had the bright idea of adding my DNA to the mixture when cloning you. It worked, and now she's here, and I'm here, and.. you're back."

He said it as if he didn't want Kon back.

Kon was about to speak up when Tim beat him to it.

"It's great that you're back, Kon, but I broke your trust and promise by making her. But she's my kid, so you don't have to stay, you can leave. I'm fine right where I'm at and I'm not going back, to the Bats, to the Waynes, to no one. Not even for you."

For the first time since their first meeting that morning, Tim looked at Kon. His eyes held such fierce determination, love, and compassion in them. All those felt for MJ, not for him.

What did he even say to that. What did he even do.

MJ was his kid too, right? She was a clone of Kon and him, so that makes her his child as much as Tim's, no?

Would Tim even let him be her other dad? Did he even want to be her other dad?

He did.

Lex and Clark didn't treat him like their son and he was their *technical* kid. He wanted oh so desperately to have parents that loved him, he wanted to give MJ that since he didn't get that.

She didn't deserve it. She was just a baby. A baby Tim made out of grief for him dying.

"What's her name?"

He asks instead of everything else.

".. Mary-Jane."

Tim answers after his initial shock at the question.

Tim turns back to her, seeing her finished with the bananas, now content playing with her toy while she stares at her father.

Tim takes the bowl and goes to put it and the plates in the sink, then cleans MJ up and the chair before extracting her and heading over to the diaper changing table in another room to change her diaper.

The door was still ajar so he could see Tim change her diaper and clothes and hear as she giggled while her father cooed at her and poked at her nose and belly and kissed her face.

I should be doing that too.

"Tim."

He calls when Tim walks back out.

Tim stops right outside the room's door, holding MJ, Mary-Jane, in his hip. She was now in a light blue little blouse and denim blue jean skirt with cute ruffled socks and a little bonnet.

"Can I.. I want to.."

He couldn't form his question.

"Could I be her other father?"

He blurts out instead.

They both stare at each other for what felt like the longest time of Kon's life.

"Really?"

Tim finally asks.

He nods, pushing his lips in a thin line and furrowing his brows, expecting a no for an answer.

"Okay."

"What?"

"I said, okay."

Kon looked bewildered despite hearing his answer.

"I know you, Kon. I know how you felt about Clark and Lex when it came to parenting, I expected this, actually. You want to be there for her, unlike they were with you. I had time to think about it these past few months."

That actually.. made sense, but it didn't at the same time.

Tim motioned for Kon to follow as he sat down on the couch. Kon sat next to him.

"Want to hold her?"

He nodded immediately, and was given MJ before he could finish.

She was small, so very light in his arms as she stared up at him with those big blue beautiful eyes, his eyes.

"She helped me, ya know."

Kon looked at him, adjusting his hold on her so she could hold his finger.

Tim watched her intently.

"I was in a really dark place when I had her, when we first came here. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to take care of her. But I knew I couldn't with how I was. So I got better, for her. She helped me. I've been clean, I've been taking care of myself, eating 3 meals a day, cleaning the house, raising her, taking medicine, regularly working out, meditating, sleeping a full 8 hours, and napping with her."

He paused to get a breath in.

"I don't regret it, leaving, going off the radar. I've never been more healthy and more stress free, and more alive in my life."

"I'm never going back."

Kon leaves it at that.

He doesn't know much about what happened, but he doesn't care anymore. This is his family. And he isn't going to leave it.

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake Kiszka One Shot: Best Friend’s Brother

When your boyfriend breaks up with you, your head falls on the nearest shoulder; Jake’s.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, self-doubt, a hint of angst, fear of loneliness, sweet Jake <3, fluff, and that’s all, folks!

(Let me know if I missed any!)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors and grammar mistakes.

a/n— Here’s to my fluff lovers! Apologies to the individual who requested this one shot nearly three weeks ago, I hope I did your request justice! Shoutout to the beta readers who provided feedback and reassurance so I could finish quicker. Enjoy!! <3

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You had nowhere else to turn.

The tears sting your eyes as they keep falling, blurring your vision while you lift your closed fist, gently pounding on the door of your best friend’s apartment. A moment of doubt passes, realizing how late it is and that you haven’t even bothered to call before showing up unannounced. 

Your body shivers in the cool breeze of the late-summer air, your arms crossing over your chest as you wait patiently, with your back slightly hunched to preserve all remaining body heat. Rushing over here, you hadn’t thought to wear a heavier jacket, and honestly, you didn’t know it would be this cold. Without thinking, you knock again, letting your arms rest at your sides as your fists grip anxiously at nothing. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself.

The surrounding stillness is deafening; a gentle swish of wind blows past, carrying the dewy scent of the quickly approaching fall. In the distance, tires tread across the gravelly roads, the muffled crunch becoming white noise. The melancholy symphony of crickets is a reminder of the sleeping world around you; a reminder that Josh is, in fact, asleep. Reluctantly, you cut your losses, ultimately giving up and taking a mental note to return tomorrow. 

Just as you take a step back from the door, you perk up and stop your movements when you hear the faint footsteps behind the heavy wood. Thank God. 

However, your optimism fades when the door swings open, revealing the last person you would want to see at a time like this. Quickly wiping the streaming tears from your blotched cheeks, you fix your posture, sniffling and peering over his shoulder. You don’t bother to greet him, having all manners fly out the window. 

“Is Josh available?” You rush out.

“No, he’s asleep right now–” Jake’s voice is irritated, understandably so, but his mouth shuts when he dissects your appearance; flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a nose that would beat Rudolph in a competition. He’s equally disheveled, most likely having just woken up from your knocking. His hair is tousled, and he’s sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a thoroughly worn t-shirt with a stretched neckline. His eyes are squinting, likely adjusting to the overhead light of the outside hallway. “Is everything okay?” His eyes soften, along with his tone. 

“Oh, um,” You divert your gaze from his watchful eyes, “I’m fine.” You should’ve known Josh would be asleep by now, it’s nearly 3 am and he has work in the morning, but you still feel disappointed by the information relayed. While Josh would 100% want to be woken up, and would willingly stay up until the sun rises, you’re unwilling to put that responsibility on him. If there’s one thing about you, you refuse to be a burden. Sure, Josh has never made you feel like one, but regardless, you’re willing to wait to avoid messing with his sleep schedule.

Jake pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you sure–”

“Just tell him to call me when he wakes up, please.” Cutting him off, you turn away, ready to make a run for the flight of stairs to your right. 

“Hey…” Before you can step away, his fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. “What happened?” His voice is as interrogating as it is concerned, and his face is stern, pushing for more information than you’re willing to give. 

“Just…” Your eyes focus on his unwavering hand, keeping you in place. Hesitating, you consider telling him. “I’d rather speak with Josh– I’m sorry for bothering you this late. You should go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” He repeats, “You’re no bother, I promise.”

“I’m sure, Jake.” You dismiss him, unfamiliar with his sudden concern. While you’ve been friends with Josh for years, you and Jake never got around to getting to know each other. So, his insistent apprehensiveness is new to you. It makes you skeptical– unwilling to confide in him, even though you probably should. “It’s nothing, really.” 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” His tone is bordering on vexing and his persistence maddens you. Why does he want to know so badly? 

“Jake.” Your voice wavers, attempting to be a warning, but nearly cracking like the front you’ve put on. The warmth of his palm pierces through your already heated skin, and while your thoughts contradict the words that leave your mouth, you haven’t pulled away just yet. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you.” 

“I just want to help–”

“I’m fine, Jake!” Your raised voice startles both of you, his eyes wide and mouth parted, unable to respond. With your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse blares in your ears from the rising heat that settles in the crooks of your neck. Silence falls and a tinge of guilt settles in your lower stomach. “I’m sorry, that was… rude of me.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” He shakes his head, dropping your wrist and stepping back a half-step. “I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry.”

“Jake–” You step closer, and for a reason you can’t quite place, you don’t want him to leave you just yet. 

“I’ll let Josh know you stopped by.” He’s closing the door now, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before drifting to the floor. 

“Jake, wait.” You plaster your hand against the door, preventing him from closing it. He stops, looks at you, and waits for you to continue. His features are unreadable; relaxed, but simultaneously tense. Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes find the ceiling of the apartment hallway, unable to look him in the eyes. “My boyfriend and I broke up.” 

“Oh,” His face softens, and he opens the door fully again, making your hand drop to your side, “I’m so sorry.” The look on his face disturbs you. It’s a look you never thought you’d receive from him; pity. He actually feels sorry for you. Sure, Jake isn’t a complete asshole, but you’re not close. This is odd. And yet, you feel the comfort radiating off his stature.

“Yeah, well, he broke up with me.” Your name rolls off his tongue in an empathetic whisper from your further elaboration and clear upset in your tone. Without a second thought, Jake steps through the threshold and wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a consoling hug. The force of his affection causes a small oof to huff out of you, and it takes a moment of initial shock to pass before you reciprocate. Despite the unfamiliarity, you welcome his warmth and feel the tension in your muscles melt as you allow yourself to slump against him. His arms adjust, gently pulling you against him in a firm hold, providing support to your trembling frame. 

Your hands interlock behind him and you take a deep breath, your eyes involuntarily closing as tears threaten to resurface. But, when you inhale deeply, his attractive scent fills your senses and overcomes you. It only adds to his solace; manly, musky, smoky, and vaguely of cinnamon and various spices. You fight the urge to hum when it infiltrates your lungs.

“Come inside.” His voice vibrates against you, pulling you from your racing thoughts. “We can talk about it.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, really.” You chuckle nervously as you lean back to look at him, still holding onto him. He doesn’t let go either. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Please?” He reasons with you, tilting his head, his eyes begging, “At least sleep over and wait until Josh wakes up. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

The offer is appealing. And he is right— you shouldn’t be alone and certainly don’t want to be. You genuinely enjoy this side of Jake; caring, worrisome, and considerate. It’s not that he’s never been those things before, but he’s simply your best friend’s brother. You question why you never considered being his friend as well.

“Fine. I’ll stay.” It truly didn’t take much convincing. You’d either decline and return to an empty apartment for the rest of the night, or accept and potentially spend time with Jake. It’s better than being alone, so you clearly opted for the latter. 

He smiles softly at your submission, unwrapping his arms from around you, and guiding you into the apartment. Stepping aside to let you walk in, he shuts the door behind you. You’ve been in this apartment thousands of times, some even without Josh present, but you can’t shake the awkward feeling overcoming you. Usually, you and Jake coexist, not acknowledging each other. That’s not an option now, as he steps around you and walks over to the couch, taking a seat. 

“Come here.” He pats the spot next to him.

Without any protest, your body gravitates toward him, sitting next to him with just mere inches of space between the two of you. His eyes are watchful; aware of every micro-expression, muscle twitch, and breathing pattern. You feel… seen.

“Jake, I appreciate you letting me in, but really, you don’t have to do this.” You assure him, letting him know there’s still a way out of this conversation. “I’m okay with waiting for Josh.”

“I know I don’t have to… I want to.” His expression is serious, his eyebrows furrowed with determination, to let you know that he’s genuine, “You’re Josh’s best friend and, by extension, I care about you. Josh would do the same.”

He’s not wrong. Josh wouldn’t have let you leave even if you tried to run, though, Jake wouldn’t be that extreme. 

Your shoulders slouch and your bottom lip begins to quiver, remembering the traumatic events that occurred just hours before. It doesn’t take much persuasion for you to pour your heart out to Jake; laying out every single minute detail of your boyfriend— well, ex-boyfriend— breaking your heart.

Jake looks horrified with his eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared in pure indignation. He doesn’t interrupt you, though. Instead, he silently listens, letting you essentially word vomit. It isn’t until you finish talking that you realize tears have gathered just below your chin from the constant stream leaving your watering eyes. 

“I’m sorry, that was a lot.” You let out a small chuckle, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away the trail of tears. 

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches out to rest a hand on your knee. His form of comfort seems to be physical touch—he and Josh are similar in that way. “So, you’ve told me everything, but how are you?”

“I’m—” You have to think for a moment. Angry? Yes. Sad? Absolutely. “Disappointed in myself.” 

“Oh, come here,” His voice is gentle as his hands land on your shoulders and pull you into him. He scooches closer so your head can fall onto his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you close, while his hands cradle the back of your head. “Why?” His tone is curious.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” You sigh, closing your eyes and hiccuping into his chest. Great, here come the tears again. The fabric of his shirt soaks every fallen drop, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “What if there was something I could’ve done better?” You whisper.

Jake mutters your name, his arms constricting to hold you in a firmer grip, “Listen to me, him breaking up with you… that is not a you problem. Do you understand?” His low voice rumbles in his chest, emanating a comforting vibrating sensation against your cheek. 

“But—”

“There is no ‘but,’” His stern words cut you off, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him from your immediate defense, “I know you. You’ve been nothing but kind to him. And I know him.” You forget that Jake has met your ex-boyfriend a few times. Mainly through passing, but it never takes anyone long to realize how shitty he was. “He never deserved you.”

“It’s just…” You think of your next words, feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability you’re presenting to Jake. He stays silent, letting you collect your thoughts, and you sigh, “What if he’s right…?” Your trembling voice is barely audible.

“What?” Jake shifts, leaning back so you’ll look at him. His face is blurry, courtesy of the tears that gather on your waterline, but his features are riddled with concern. 

“What if…” You sigh again, and your shoulders slump in a silent sob, “What if no one wants me?” 

It’s a real fear you’ve dealt with for, well, however long you were with your ex. The beginning of your relationship was pure bliss, as all honeymoon phases are. However, by the one-year mark, arguments became a daily routine. Then, your second anniversary came around, and well, you had hoped it would get better. It never did. 

Josh did try convincing you to break up with him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how unhappy you were with him. However, the longer the relationship lasted, and the more your self-esteem dwindled while being with him, you figured… no one else would ever love you. Not like him. If you can even call it love.

You’ve been out of the dating pool for years now, and the idea of having to restart frightens you. You started dating your ex when you were young, but now that you're fully into adulthood, the dating scene is different. 

“Someone will want you.” Jake’s voice is unyielding. His expression is serious. “And someone is going to love you. The way you should be loved. Okay?”

“Okay…” Surprisingly, his words do provide a sense of relief. He seems so sure when he tells you these things; as if he knows personally that they will happen— like he’ll make them happen.

“Good.” His hands move to the sides of your face, and your pulse quickens when he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead and placing a soft kiss against the creased skin. The intimate gesture startles you, but a gentle wave of disappointment settles in your gut. What were you expecting? You chalk it up to your overwhelming emotions and incessant need to forget this night ever happened— a night where your heart has been shattered by a man who never deserved the chance to begin with. “Do you want to lay down until Josh wakes up? He’s working an early shift, so he should be awake fairly soon.” Three hours to be exact.

You gently nod, your face still cradled in his hands; they’re soft and warm, despite the callouses that formed as a result of his passion, and they’re just barely applying pressure to your tear-stained cheeks. Lowering his hands, he stands up and waits for you to do so as well. 

“What?” 

“Just follow me, please?” When you hesitantly stand up, he places his hands on your shoulders, shifting you in the direction of the bedrooms and bathrooms down the hall. He guides you toward them— the main bathroom is at the end of the hall. You assume he’s taking you there, so you can freshen up and rid your face of the drying tears. And you’re correct.

Stepping into the bathroom, he turns the light on and you’re met with your reflection. Jeez. Somehow, your hair is a mess and your eyes are beginning to swell from the sheer force of crying. Your overall appearance is… puffy. 

“I look terrible.” You say in disbelief, letting out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Oh, stop it.” He looks at you through the mirror’s reflection, “Sit.” He gestures to the bathroom counter.

Doing as he says, you turn around and hop onto the counter, sitting beside the sink and facing Jake. He steps forward, crouching down into the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a washcloth, and soaking it with cold water. You expect him to hand it to you, but he steps before you, standing between your open legs. The position is intimate, and entirely compromising if Josh were to walk in. With pure focus on his face, he brings the washcloth up to one of your cheeks and gently wipes the tear-stained skin. The coldness of the cloth soothes your flushed cheek and your eyes flutter close from how nice it feels. His breathing is shallow and he’s close enough that you can hear the air exhaling from his nose. He continues to the other cheek, making sure to swipe the cloth along your jawline, nose, and chin. You’ll never understand what has warranted such care from Jake, but it’s best not to question it now.

When his actions stop, you open your eyes and nearly jolt when you realize how close he is. His expression is conflicting, and his eyes scan your features, but he steps back when he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“All done.” He clears his throat, giving you enough space to slide off the counter. Turning to look at yourself, your face is much less red, and even a little less puffy. It makes you wonder how many crying girls Jake has had to comfort, and unfortunately, it’s a thought that surprisingly discomforts you. Coming up behind you, his hands gravitate to your hair and his fingers softly run through the strands, being careful not to tug. He flattens any imperfections and pulls it all behind your shoulders, “See? Not terrible at all.”

His eyes catch yours again, and your eyes hold his for a moment before you smile, “Thank you, Jake.” 

“Anytime.” He returns a smile, “How about some sleep?”

“I am pretty tired.” You admit, turning around to face him. Jake nods knowingly, snaking his hand behind you and resting it on your lower back. You’re entirely capable of heading to the couch yourself, but who are you to deny a helping hand? 

Jake guides you out of the bathroom, turns the light off, and walks with you down the hall. You’re sure to be quiet when you walk past Josh’s room, feeling unsettled by the fact that he has no idea you’re even here. While you’re coming closer to the living room at the end of the hall, Jake turns you to his bedroom. Before you can utter a word of protest, you’re walking through the threshold and Jake is flicking the switch to turn on the lamp in the far corner of his bedroom. 

The bedroom is dimly lit– the covers in slight disarray from him leaving his bed to answer the door. Like Jake, his room is dark, comforting, and, for lack of a better word, mysterious. The decorations on the walls and surfaces don’t give away much about him, other than the fact that he’s fascinated by pirates, oddly enough. In the opposite corner of the lamp, there are guitars presented on stands, and an amp just beside them. You’re stunned, feeling as though you’re intruding on a private part of his life. 

To you, your bedroom is your sanctuary. Only a select few are permitted to tread such confidential territory. It’s not like Jake has a “Stay out!” sign attached to his bedroom door, but still, this feels like a rite of passage. A look into his life outside of what you’ve always known.

“Jake—”

“Relax,” he chuckles from behind you, figuring how you might interpret this gesture. “You can stay in here while I sleep on the couch.”

Well, that’s awfully generous. “Jake, that’s kind of you, but you’ve already done so much for me. I can sleep on the couch— I promise it’s fine.”

He waves you off while stepping around to approach the bed, as a way to say “Don’t be ridiculous.” Fixing the covers, he pulls them back and motions to the open spot. “You deserve comfort. Not the couch.”

Your feet shuffle in his direction, gravitating toward the plush mattress. “Okay…” You’re uncertain, but Jake’s expression softens you, “Is it really that comfortable? I’d argue that the couch is pretty damn close.”

“Only one way to find out.” He smirks, happy to see sparks of your snide self coming to the surface. Playfully rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and sit on the bed, turning to push your legs under the covers and lay back against the soft mountain of pillows. 

“Oh my…” The words shutter from your lips, genuinely surprised. The sheets are still warm from his previous laying in them, and it only adds to the overwhelming comforting sensation. 

He chuckles, his lips flashing his satisfied smile from your involuntary reaction. 

The air from the pillows and mattress deflates, creating a molding sensation, and hugging your every curve. It’s… heavenly. Perhaps all that crying made your body incredibly sore and tired, but that’s quickly a distant memory when you're practically melting into Jake’s bed. 

Jake pulls the covers over you, engulfing you in a heavy plush comforter that’s saturated with his scent. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nuzzle deeper into his pillows and grip the edge of the comforter, pulling it up just below your chin.

“What’d I tell you?” He laughs, his eyelids relaxing to admire how comfortable you look in his bed. 

“You were right.”

“Music to my ears.” He teases, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay…” While you can sleep, and you are tired, you hate watching Jake turn to leave, reaching for the light switch and sparing you one more glance. “Jake–” He freezes, his fingers resting on the switch, looking at you over his shoulder. “I’m not tired.” You lie.

“Oh.” His hand falls, and he turns around, stepping toward you, “But you said– Is there something wrong?”

“No, I–” You what? “Can you stay with me?”

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. You feel stupid for asking such a question. This entire situation felt unreal; when you came here, you had hoped to confide in Josh, but here you are. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” It was a ridiculous request, he’d never agree. “You don’t have to–”

“I’ll stay. Scoot over.” His words frantically cut you off and his legs move in stride, making you move over quickly. He pulls back the covers and slides in effortlessly. Although, when he settles underneath the comforter, he only leans against the headboard. His legs lay before him, and he peers down at you, “Come here.”

Without thinking, you shift closer, watching him cautiously as he uncovers his lap and pats his thigh. It’s a position you’re familiar with, especially with Josh. The two of you would take turns resting your heads on each other’s lap to rant about various topics. It’s your form of therapy. Though, this feels entirely different with Jake. It is as if you’re entering unknown territory, one you can’t return from.

Still, you rest your head against his thigh, which happens to be pleasantly muscular. It takes a moment before you both relax, silence deafening the room and amplifying your steadying breaths. You hadn’t thought this far before foolishly asking him to stay, but you were unwilling to return to acquaintances with Jake.

“Thank you,” you cut through the silence, your voice quiet, “for being so kind.”

“Of course.” He stares down at you, his eyes settling on the side of your face while your cheek rests against him. You can hear his hand shuffling, although you’re unsure where until you feel his soft touch glide along your hair, pushing the strands back from your face. The act is soothing, your eyes closing to revel in the feeling. His fingers drag along your scalp, applying gentle pressure and a quiet hum settles deep within your chest.

Confliction pulls at your thoughts; just hours ago you were being broken up with and now you’re lying in another man’s bed. Truthfully, a man you hadn’t paid much attention to in the past years. To be fair, it was never on purpose. Your ex-boyfriend was never fond of male friendships; Josh was hardly an exception. You silently curse yourself for missing out on Jake. He’s just as sweet and kind as his twin; selfless, generous, and attentive. All traits he’s presented in just one hour. You imagine the years you could’ve spent experiencing it first-hand. If only you hadn’t spent them pushing him away for the sake of your ex. 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You mumble. 

“Why? For what?” His movements halt, and your eyes open, your head turning to look up at him. His eyebrows are synched, riddled with concern.

“Not being your friend sooner.” You confess, now reflecting on all the times he obviously tried, but you were dismissive. “Listen, if I was ever mean to you–”

“Don’t.” He stops you, shaking his head and resting his hand against the cheek that once rested on his lap. “Don’t do that. You’ll only upset yourself further.” 

“But–”

“There is no ‘but.’” He repeats his earlier phrase. “We’re friends now. We have time.” 

Although he and Josh are certainly twins, they feel so… different. The connection that’s forming with Jake frightens you; it’s unknown and uncharted. With Josh, your friendship was immediate and effortless. With Jake, however, this newfound friendship doesn’t feel very friendly. Something tells you that the way you both say the word “friends,” it’s foreign and not entirely what you want.

Think realistically, you tell yourself. Perhaps sleep deprivation is manipulating your thoughts. For God’s sake, you’re emotionally vulnerable and the wounds are still bleeding. 

“I know, but,” Despite his disapproval of the word, you use it anyway, “we could’ve had more time.” And had Jake been fully integrated into your life sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if you had met Jake before him…

“Hey.” his voice softly protests, and he lifts your head from his lap, moving to your level and laying right beside you. He lays face-to-face with you, examining the hills and curves of your face, accentuated by the dim lighting from his warm-toned lamp. He sighs, absently bringing his hand to your face and brushing the loose hair behind your ear, “I promise, it’s okay.” 

You nod, taking his word for it, even though you still feel unease and uncertainty. Sliding his hand just behind your head, he guides you to rest on his chest as he turns onto his back, staring intently at the ceiling. Your cheek molds against him, his body heat reddening the soft flesh, no doubt. Chasing comfort, you sling your arm over his waist and you’re surprised by how natural the position feels. Your leg intertwines with his, settling between them, as his arm wraps around your shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest, and regardless of his calm demeanor, his pulse is racing. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I wish I knew you were this great sooner.” You laugh weakly against his chest, feeling him pull you in closer. 

“Me too.” He admits with a sigh, subtle disappointment lacing his tone. 

A comfortable silence falls, the only sound being the faint pounding of his heart and gentle exhales through his nose. Your eyelids grow heavy, your mind only focusing on the pattern of his breathing and the beat of his heart. A large yawn overcomes you, and you sigh deeply as it exits your lungs, your eyes settling on the open door. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“The door’s open.” You point out.

“That’s okay.” He turns to follow your gaze.

“What if Josh sees us like this?” With some explanation, he wouldn’t care, but a heads-up wouldn’t hurt either. You can only imagine how disconcerting it’ll make Josh feel if he were to walk in on his best friend cuddled up with his twin brother. If you had given it more thought, and hadn’t let your emotions dictate your every decision tonight, you would’ve been more cautious. However, Jake shuts down that thought. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’m not moving.” He decides, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed. You decide to do the same, paying attention to the way his heart rate slows as he relaxes and, in turn, relaxes you. Jake’s arm holds you firmly, and your hand slides from his waist to his chest, resting against the solid flesh. Sleep follows shortly and engulfs you both in a comforting embrace.

Thump-thump.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist & tags:

@hailthegodsong @demolitiondanchipsversion

[innerempire]

{starkercest - Intersex Omega Peter who’s alpha husband can’t get him pregnant because he has weak swimmers}

It’s not his husband’s fault.

But it feels like is, Peter thinks sourly to himself as he chucks the makeshift cock onto the floor, unsatisfied once more. His sex life had taken a complete downturn after a recent screening had revealed that his alpha husband, by some stroke of misfortune, had sperm that was…well, useless. It was the main reason why Peter still wasn’t pregnant after two and a half years of marriage.

Peter feels ashamed for feeling resentful considering that he had struck gold by marrying someone who truly cherished and loved him, but…still. He couldn’t help but to see his partner in a different light now, wondering if the other had purposely known about this prior to the marriage.

It’s caused a rift between them and it’s clearly affected their sex life, with Peter’s husband now unable to maintain an erection, nor the ability to keep Peter knotted. Honestly, this felt like a cruel joke.

Peter sighs.

Like he always does whenever he’s upset, Peter turns to his dad. Tony picks up on the first ring like he always does.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The endearment feels like a soothing balm against the sting of being told that he might never conceive as a result of his husband’s fertility-related issues.

“Dad.” Peter sighs as he moves towards the fridge, peeking in to see if there’s perhaps a bottle of wine he can seek comfort in. “You were right.” You always are. “We should have consulted a doctor the first year I didn’t get pregnant.”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Peter bumps the fridge door close with the side of his hip.

“He’s got a ridiculously low sperm count for an alpha.” Peter knows sharing this information with Tony wasn’t going to help matters, especially since his dad was never fond of his choice of partner. “I’m just so- I’m so tired of trying, dad. My past three heats has been unsatisfactory, and this whole thing is affecting our sex life. He thinks we can give it another shot during my next heat in two weeks time, but frankly….I think I need some time away.”

The idea of returning to Stark Tower is tempting, because Peter knows he’ll be on the receiving end of his dad’s endless coddling and pampering. They’ve always been immensely close, even more so after Peter’s mother passed away when he was twelve.

“Kiddo, you know you’re always welcome back home. Just say the word and I’ll get Happy to pick you up.”

Peter doesn’t think he can spend another night feigning enjoyment from lackluster sex.

“Okay, daddy.” Peter decides on a whim. “Tell Happy he can come pick me up in an hour.”

- / -

The penthouse is empty when Happy drops him off. He tells Peter that Tony’s still tying up some loose ends at the office, and Peter’s fine with that. Just being home is already lifting his spirits up, despite the incoming stream of calls and text messages lighting up his phone.

Glenn must have realized that Peter’s side of the wardrobe was missing a handful of his clothes. Peter puts his phone on silent and leaves it on the bedside table before he goes on to get changed into something more comfortable.

He then wanders into the main bedroom that’s occupied by Tony, seeking comfort in his dad’s large plush bed with the ridiclously pricey sheets that he insists on using. He rolls over and presses his face against Tony’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent that has not once failed to bring Peter comfort.

The silk sheets rubs against Peter’s bare legs and a second inhale as him pressing his thighs together. His dad always smelt fantastic in Peter’s opinion; just the right tinge of masculinity, with something else along the lines of woodsy-like.

Peter doesn’t know if it’s because he’s touch-starved lately, or it’s simply the scent of his dad, but he’s just so goddamn aroused. He’d always thought he would settle down with an Alpha like his dad, but he doesn’t think there’s anyone like his dad.

He gives a fluttery sigh, thankful that Tony hadn’t remarried after the divorce. He was such an eligible alpha, the perfect one really, and Peter doesn’t think he’d be able to cope well if he had to share Tony with anyone else.

Sometime later, cruising the line of sleep and wakefulness, Peter feels the bed dip and a smile creeps up on his lips when an arm snugly wraps itself around his midsection. He lets out what he assumes is a cross between a satisfied purr and a moan when Tony nuzzles his nape in greeting.

“You know, Stephen’s a fantastic divorce lawyer.”

“Dad”.

Tony chuckles and Peter twists until he’s on his other side facing the older male. As handsome as always, even more so with a glimpse of grey in his full head of hair. God, his dad had truly won the lottery when it came to alpha genes. Peter emits a pleased sigh.

“…dad, remember when you said you’ll do anything for me?” It’s something Tony has always reminded him of without fail.

“Of course, baby.”

His dad didn’t have it in him to ever tell Peter “no”.

“Because that’s what daddies do, right?” Peter continues. “Solve problems. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

“Without a doubt. What do you want, baby?”

Peter had given it some thought during the hour ride home. He was in the prime of his age, perfect for childbearing. There was no way he was going to waste another heat with Glenn, only to be faced with disappointment once more.

Even if it wasn’t about getting knocked up, he was just so…needy. Fuck, he was craving an animalistic satisfying pounding that only a virile alpha could give him. Just being in such close proximity with his dad was making him wet between the legs.

“What if…” Peter maintains eye contact with Tony, needed the older male to understand just how desperate he truly was. “…I want you get me pregnant, dad?”

“Pete. Honey…” But there’s no missing the want that’s evident in Tony’s voice.

“Dad, please. Don’t you want it?” Peter cajoles, inching his hand lower until he’s cupping Tony through the material of his pants. “Can you bear to see your own son go through another unsatisfactory heat, when you know that you can make me feel so, so good…because you’re nothing like Glenn? I know you’ll pump me so full of cum-“ Peter’s breath hitches when Tony grabs him by the wrist.

“I don’t think you even know just how long I’ve fantasized about it, baby.”

-/-

[nerding-out-w-john]

I know this is a weak question compared to the previous ones from others, but I'm curious.

How does TB5 work? Not as in systems 'n stuff, but as in where do you sleep, are the toilets space ones or normal ones, do you have a shower and if yes, how. Do you eat anything other than bagels?

Sorry for the long, kinda weird question, and have a nice day!

(also eh... you wouldn't mind sending someone over to uh... get me out of this sinkhole, right? Wouldn't wanna be a bother, just eh.. asking...)

-🍞

Thank you for your message 🍞.

It's important to direct all calls to an appropriate emergency line when needed - please do not use this channel to request assistance. I trust that the sinkhole you referenced is related to the situation attended by International Rescue earlier this week and your rescue was satisfactory.

On this note, I have been informed that the end-of-year report requires satisfaction statistics so please rate our services on a 5 point scale, with 1 indicating some improvement needed and 5 indicating you were rescued from your situation.

I have pointed out that there is some sampling bias in this kind of survey, since only those who survive these events unscathed are likely to leave a rating, and have been thusly informed that my protests are "unnecessarily morbid" and "indicate something is deeply wrong with [my] psyche".

...

With regards to your questions regarding TB5, I can inform you that I have access to all basic amenities including sleeping quarters, bathrooms, and yes... a shower. The water is directed in jets that provides the appropriate force so the stream may be directed temporarily even when the gravity ring is not engaged, but I must say, I do prefer showering when the ring is employed. If this is not possible due to scheduled maintenance, a simple washcloth will suffice, and if there is an emergency resulting in the gravity ring being damaged, I have more important considerations than showering, I can assure you.

Finally, yes I eat food other than bagels. Unfortunately, the cheeseburgers Virgil sends are usually cold when they reach me, so it's better as a meal option on Earth.

[zetomato]

The case of the Kidnappings (QSMP)

There we go again!

Ok, this time I’m searching for more answers than I’m just sharing my opinion on something, again, QSMP related.

Couldn’t watch a lot of streams lately, something, something, rush of things to do before the holidays and stuff. But I’ve heard from my servers about the list of kidnapped people (who seem linked to going to Purgatory 2: Electric Bugaloo)

Now, some will expect the question, but I’ll ask it still.

Are Tubbo and BBH back in canon, or out of canon?

Let me explain my confusion since I saw people defend how nothing happening is canon and yet praising the things happening like canon.

The Back in canon

Now, take this with a grain of salt, I do not know if they talked with the admins to have a last moments with the eggs or something, but let’s go with not since many are mentioning that they showed up without being canon.

The server is amazing, a team helping to make cool content and player’s Lore happen, there’s the eggs who stole everyone’s heart, there are so many reasons to spend as much time as possible on it. But if they were taken out, kidnapped, just as Pac was, just as Etoiles was… Just as many were. Why are they back? Showing back just because they want to hang out on the server feels flat and a bit… off? No one is THE protagonist of the server, that’s why there are rules in group server, so everyone has the same restrictions, no matter how wide they are, so someone doesn’t get all the spotlight or look like the favorite child…

Therefore, I am hoping that it is the second option (out of canon) or that they had a deal with the admins for this.

The Out of canon

Ok, so this one is the one I saw stressed on the most. Therefore, the one that made me rant. Because if it’s the case, then all that happened since the kidnapping isn’t canon anymore. Sunny’s safe room and birthday, BBH hanging out with Pepito, the Eggs unwillingness to have them leave, the code attack… Everything is now supposed to be wiped, then? If the thing was indeed agreed upon to not be canon I won’t just blame the players, the admins didn’t have to make the eggs log on or interact with people announcing to be out of canon, they shouldn’t have sent a code to attack. People cannot be “out of canon” then interacting with their eggs on the server (they can chat with the admins on discord, but there is not really any out of RP way to interact with the eggs)

So yeah! Which is it? Because I cannot fully enjoy lore if it is just fake, nor can I enjoy it fully if it’s done by breaking server rules that others abide by.

I hate when people loudly go out of RP in other people’s cool RP scenes, I hate when people glitch through walls or doors to get more information/test the limits, I hate when people try to find loopholes in puzzles with cheats or glitches. I am not a fan of unfair play, no matter if the ones doing it are CCs I do not vibe with or my favorite blorbos. And, right now, I am not sure where the ball is and if I’ll like where it’s falling.

BBH/Tubbo watchers PLEASE tell me what’s happening because I cannot follow what the line of canon is anymore on their stream.

[moeblob]

I love my dumb OCs so much ...

I think I have rambled about them before so to spare you! A tl;dr version that you can also skip:

Shilva can turn into a dragon. Vikrahm goes on an adventure and meets Pops. Pops is a famous dragonslayer who refuses to tell anyone his name and never collects reward money unless needed at that time. Shilva and Pops get married. They both do not tell Vik his name though so he resorts to a threat and is shocked when it actually works. "I didn't expect to get this far idk what to do now" kinda vibes.

[beatcroc]

Thoughts on the incident?

[sunrise-on-the-shore]

i need so much time to process the information i have encountered today. i'm gonna be away for a bit.

[subjectsix]

I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.

I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.

Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.

I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.

I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.

Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.

I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.

My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.

I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?

No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!

[theabstruseone]

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.

[sunfl0wer71]

.

[vanweezer]

actually glad i did not become a wkuk fan in my teens. i wouldve been worse for sure. laughing a lot and goofing off a lot. but worse. darker. scarier.... stupider

[heritageposts]

🇵🇸 From BDS:

This year’s Israeli Apartheid Week will be the most important since IAW was launched 20 years ago! With the ongoing Nakba at its height, Israel is carrying out the world’s first ever live-streamed genocide against 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza while it continues to entrench its 75-year-old settler-colonial apartheid regime against all Indigenous Palestinians. Over the past few months, people around the world have carried out inspiring actions building people power to end state, corporate and institutional complicity in Israel’s #GazaGenocide and contribute to the Palestinian struggle for freedom, justice, and equality. With the failure of the international system, under US and Western hegemony, on full display, we will organize IAW throughout the month of March to bring justice from below. Save the date - March 1st - March 30th; an entire month of action and BDS mobilizations to end complicity in genocide, build grassroots power towards liberation and the dismantling of Israel’s settler-colonial apartheid regime. Let’s make this year’s IAW our most impactful ever!

In anticipation of the upcoming Israeli Apartheid Week, BDS has called for an escalation of our boycott campaigns.

To find out how you can join a specific BDS campaign, or how you can contribute towards IAW, you can use the search function on their website to find a BDS-affiliated organization in your country.

If you and your organization have an event planned for Israeli Apartheid Week (IAW), you can register them with BDS here.

🇵🇸 For individuals unaffiliated with an org, you can still support and participate in IAW by:

Boycotting all products from Israel and from companies profiting off the occupation of Palestine. Here are the official BDS targets. For a more extensive list of products, check in with one of the BDS affiliated organizations in your country (they might tell you, for instance, what processed food items at your local grocery store should be avoided).

Share information about BDS on social media, with friends and family, and with your local community.

For BDS targeted brands, refrain from making or sharing any content that helps that company's outreach and branding. No more memes mentioning the brand, no pictures showing their logo, no more free advertising. Boycotting here isn't just about the loss you as a costumer can inflict on the company by not purchasing their product, it's also about damaging the brand's reputation, and limiting their customer outreach.

I highly encourage you to join a BDS-affiliated org, but if for whatever reason you can't, then these are concrete and actionable steps you can take.

Again, for more information about BDS and Israeli Apartheid Week, you check in with the official BDS website.

[felassan]

SAG AFTRA news update:

"SAG-AFTRA Members Who Work on Video Games Go on Strike July 25th A.I. Protections Remain the Sticking Point SAG-AFTRA National Executive Director & Chief Negotiator Duncan Crabtree-Ireland, acting under the authority delegated by the SAG-AFTRA National Board, and with the unanimous advice and counsel of the Interactive Media Agreement Negotiating Committee, called a strike of the Interactive Media Agreement, effective July 26 at 12:01 a.m. Today’s vote to strike comes after more than a year and a half of negotiations without a deal. The convenience bargaining group with whom SAG-AFTRA is negotiating includes Activision Productions Inc., Blindlight LLC, Disney Character Voices Inc., Electronic Arts Productions Inc., Formosa Interactive LLC, Insomniac Games Inc., Llama Productions LLC, Take 2 Productions Inc., VoiceWorks Productions Inc., and WB Games Inc. Any game looking to employ SAG-AFTRA talent to perform covered work must sign on to the new Tiered-Budget Independent Interactive Media Agreement, the Interim Interactive Media Agreement or the Interim Interactive Localization Agreement. These agreements offer critical A.I. protections for members. Negotiations began in October 2022 and on Sept. 24, 2023, SAG-AFTRA members approved a video game strike authorization with a 98.32% yes vote. Although agreements have been reached on many issues important to SAG-AFTRA members, the employers refuse to plainly affirm, in clear and enforceable language, that they will protect all performers covered by this contract in their A.I. language. “We’re not going to consent to a contract that allows companies to abuse A.I. to the detriment of our members. Enough is enough. When these companies get serious about offering an agreement our members can live — and work — with, we will be here, ready to negotiate,” stated SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher.   “The video game industry generates billions of dollars in profit annually. The driving force behind that success is the creative people who design and create those games. That includes the SAG-AFTRA members who bring memorable and beloved game characters to life, and they deserve and demand the same fundamental protections as performers in film, television, streaming, and music: fair compensation and the right of informed consent for the A.I. use of their faces, voices, and bodies. Frankly, it’s stunning that these video game studios haven’t learned anything from the lessons of last year - that our members can and will stand up and demand fair and equitable treatment with respect to A.I., and the public supports us in that,” said Crabtree-Ireland. “Eighteen months of negotiations have shown us that our employers are not interested in fair, reasonable A.I. protections, but rather flagrant exploitation. We refuse this paradigm – we will not leave any of our members behind, nor will we wait for sufficient protection any longer. We look forward to collaborating with teams on our Interim and Independent contracts, which provide A.I. transparency, consent and compensation to all performers, and to continuing to negotiate in good faith with this bargaining group when they are ready to join us in the world we all deserve." said Interactive Media Agreement Negotiating Committee Chair Sarah Elmaleh.  For more information and to search whether a video game is struck, please visit sagaftra.org/videogamestrike."

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[lineffability]

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Oohh that sounds very cool I'll definitely check it out! Thanks!!