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#i needed this off my chest like. can these people stop
kismetlotts · 3 days
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cw: sexual content
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Colleague Simon Riley who you banter with all the time. You weren’t scared of him or intimidated by him like everyone else and he found that different; intriguing. You’d seen him kill people so effortlessly, watched him make decisions that would keep people up all night but nothing put you off. There was something there on your end that drew you in- he had no clue what it was until one morning Johnny decided to enlighten him.
“Aye Ghost has everyone tinklin’eir pants’!” He’d laughed, the two of them were walking towards a helicopter preparing for their mission together, his hand pushing Ghosts shoulder trying to get something out the man but failing as usual. Johnny can talk for days, meaningless rambling, life stories, ranting, joking- god the guy doesn’t shut up. He was nearly as bad as you and in his head he was sure you two were distantly related. Two of the most annoying people being two of the most closest people to him.
“Aside from bonnie, eh’ she’s wet for other reasons.” He’d chuckle out, arm still bumping into his shoulder while he laughs loudly, but Simon froze. His whole body hot and stomach swirling surely he must’ve heard wrong. Even if he heard right, it’s Mactavish. He’s not exactly great at reading people more so knowing something like that.
“What?” Simon asked his voice dark and gruffly. Johnnys eyes met his and his cheeky smile fell of his face. Eyes scanning Ghosts for a moment before stopping in shock, mouth open slightly.
“Ya didn’t know? You ave’ her wrapped round your finger! Don’ try mess with me every’ne knows it’s obvious- she’s even gon’ told me tha’.” And Simon just felt lost. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d never really been with a woman or exactly cared to, his life was hectic as a youngster and being in the SAS it’s not often he engages or talks to a woman other than yourself. He didn’t see you in a romantic aspect: he’d never really thought of it. You’d always just been you to him, the girl who annoys him, he’d never thought about being with you. Or maybe you were just attracted to him, maybe you just wanted to fuck him- He didn’t know. He didn’t know much about feelings.
“She said herself that she gets wet over me?” He asked again just to be clear. His way with words were cut to the point and open, hearing Simon say ‘gets wet’ so fast and easily was enough to make Johnny cringe internally but he nodded. He told Simon about that night- what you had said, what you wanted. He went over everything thag happened while you two were hanging out. You and Johnny were kind of close and as much as Johnny talks, he didn’t take the Scott man for a liar. Simon spun around on the spot, telling Johnny to continue on with the mission and take another recruit before heading for the offices, catching a glimpse of you sorting through papers.
He slipped into the room quietly, walking up behind you as you spun around reaching for something. Jumping as he looked down at you, silently.
“- Oh my fuck! Simon! You scared me you idiot.” Your heart pretty much jumping out of your chest as you huffed. You’d already been so stressed out with all this paperwork given to you- this wasn’t even your job but of course you’d help out where needed. Simon just looked down at you more, eyes squinting below his skull mask as he looked over you. You shot him a glance, then another one, then another one until you were about to ask what his problem was but Simon spoke first.
“Do I make you wet?”
“….Sorry?”
“Do I make you wet? Like horny?” You were fucking gobsmacked and you knew exactly what had happened and you swore to god were going to fucking murder that mohawk wearing, secret sharing dickhead. And Simon was no better, how can someone just go up to you and ask you that? Your back ran cold and your face burnt hot- words coming out in a jumbled mess.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And instead of talking he took a step forward, cornering you in and making you step back. Not realising what was happening yourself until you were against the wall, looking up at him with them eyes. So wide and innocent, shining in the light, but fabricated with a need. A desire.
Everything in your vision blurred beside Simon, it was like you were back in bed. Lost in your dream world, slipping your hand into your panties, circling your clit imagining he was in bed with you. Imagining you him so close to you. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel the wetness of your panties already, still looking up at him as you blinked. Simon saw it now, the look in your eyes- it really was obvious. His eyes dropped down your body and back up at your eyes as he took a step back himself in disbelief.
“Fucking ‘ell, I do don’t I?” And what could you say? Lie? That would make the situation bigger than it needed to be with either you being found out as a liar or Johnny. You couldn’t admit it could you? I mean the two of you were close but he was still your Lieutenant. You could be in a lot of trouble- fuck if he wanted, you could probably lose your job. A sigh left your lips as you wracked your head for ideas. Excuses, explanations- but you had to be honest with him, it was the only way.
“Look! It’s not like romantic- I’m not like into you like that at all. I just- Okay I just find you attractive. It’s like if you were looking at some hot naked woman, you’d get hard wouldn’t you? I cant help what my body does!” Simon stood still, staring at your legs which only added to the moment. Only added to the aching need you felt
“I’m not naked. I ain’ sexy and I wear a mask for a living ‘nd kill people, you find that attractive, do ya?” Yes. You did and you didn’t know why yourself. You knew what he meant by it and he knew you didn’t find killing people attractive so instead of getting defensive you stayed quiet. You found him attractive, his voice, his height and the mask added to your intrigue. He watched as you remained quiet taking a deep breath and tilting his head to the side.
“So you want to fuck?” His voiced asked slightly deeper and you let out a laugh, back still pressed against the wall as he moved in closer.
“Jesus Christ Simon you cant just ask someone that-“ His hands met your body as he began to trace the fabric of your clothes, running his fingers over your skin slowly because he was starting to see something in you. Something sexual and he fucking liked it. He licked his lips underneath his mask, smirking as he locked eyes with you again.
“Just take my chances then?”
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Bad Guy 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.
You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 
You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  
Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 
“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 
“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  
You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 
“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 
He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 
“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  
He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 
“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 
He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 
You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 
You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 
You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 
A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 
“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 
“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 
“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  
“There a problem?” He asks. 
“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 
“I don’t like your tone.” 
You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 
“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 
“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 
You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 
“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 
He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 
“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 
“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 
“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 
“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 
You blink, “you don’t know me.” 
“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 
“I don’t want it,” you insist. 
“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 
You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 
You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 
“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 
“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 
You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 
“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 
“Now smile,” he demands. 
You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 
You force a smile. 
“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 
Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 
“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 
“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 
“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 
You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 
You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 
He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 
💀
Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 
You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 
The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 
You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 
Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 
You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 
You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 
The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 
You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 
You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 
“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 
You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 
The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 
“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 
You snort, “sure she did.” 
“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 
“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 
You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 
“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 
Can be. 
You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 
He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 
You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 
“I appreciate the ride but--” 
“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 
You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 
“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 
He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 
You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 
“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 
You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 
“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 
“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 
He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 
“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 
“I can--” 
“Just be careful,” he snips. 
Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  
You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 
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verstappentime · 2 days
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divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.
It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 
It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.
His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.
It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 
He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 
Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.
“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 
“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 
“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 
“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”
“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.
“I can– I’ll do it.” 
“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 
“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 
“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 
“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 
“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 
Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 
“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 
“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 
“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 
“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 
“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 
“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 
There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 
“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.
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oscconfessions · 14 hours
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Now that the askbox is back open and it has been a couple weeks:
The II twist is good and you all are misinterpreting it
When Steve Cobs said 'Mephone didn't just make the show, he made you' he means that Mephone created the contestants as real living people of whom are equitable to original characters
This means YES you CAN SHIP MEPHONE WITH HIS CONTESTANTS as that's just like you shipping yourself with your oc.
THIS ACTION THAT MEPHONE DID WAS SOMETHING HE DIDN'T REALIZE HE WAS DOING. He unintentionally created the contestants with his powers. This is why when he is asked by Cobs 'Why (he) did it', he responds with a very confused sounding '...What?'. That means he didn't put thought into their flaws and attributes, all of those things were unintentional.
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY, THIS MEANS THAT ALL THE CHARACTERS ACTIONS ACTUALLY DO MATTER. They all ARE real people. The show IS REAL. Just because Cobs told them that Mephone created them doesn't mean that they are not real in universe.
ANOTHER THING!!! WHEN COBS IS TALKING ABOUT MEPHONE AS IF MEPHONE IS A CHILD, THIS IS A TACTIC USED BY ABLEIST PARENTS TO MAKE THEIR ADULT CHILDREN SEEM AS IF THEY NEED TO BE CONTROLLED BY THEM. THIS IS LITERALLY AN ABUSE TACTIC. Yes there are people who do need to have support from their parents but Mephone4 has been proven to be able to function without the help of Cobs. That being said, IF YOU BELIEVE MEPHONE IS A CHILD, YOU ARE BEING MANIPULATED BY STEVE COBS TOO!!! YOU ARE BELIEVING HIS LIES!!! Yes, Mephone4 has done actions that are very immature, but, get this, Mephone4 is very developmentally disabled!!! It's literally shown to be a trait of his throughout the entire show!!! He can't do the things other Mephones are able to do while at the same level as them! Mephone4 is developmentally disabled, and Steve Cobs is using that flaw to make it seem like he's a child, WHICH HE IS NOT, in order to gain control over him.
Now, onto my theory for the next part of ii16;
Cobs will use this information against Suitcase and Knife. Cobs will most definitely make it seem like Mephone has been lying to them all this time about the competition. Cobs will most definitely try to manipulate them to get what he wants; control over the show and therefore Mephone4's actions. Now I know for sure Knife will not get this easily swayed by Cobs; Knife's entire arc in season 2 has consisted of trying to get people to stop being manipulated by others. Suitcase however... as strong as she has been throughout the season and as strong as she's slowly gotten, I am still unsure on whether or not she'd be able to see through Cobs. Part of me believes that she'd immediately believe him and decide that the only good way things can 'end' is if Cobs has control over Mephone4.
Anyways. Really needed to get this off my chest bc Jesus mcfucking christ ppl's media comprehension is TERRIBLE!!!!!! Go outside and touch some grass!!!!!
thank you anon for saying what needed to be said-📻
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k-aalia · 2 days
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Breathtaking
Joey knows it's bad manners and probably distasteful. Really, he does.
Despite what others may think, he really is a gentleman. Tries his best to be, at least.
Unfortunately, his mouth has always run quicker than his brain. Usually it just gets him into a bit of trouble he can't talk his way out of, but every now and then it just leaves him embarrassed and humiliated in front of pretty people.
He will not let this be a repeat of that situation though. Not when the girl who's grabbed his heart is the most gorgeous, ethereal woman that he has ever had the privilege to lay eyes upon.
Especially not when she's Seto Kaiba's fuckin' personal assistant.
It's not often Joey comes to KaibaCorp -- okay, he never comes to KaibaCorp -- but Yugi had invited him along for one of his weekly matches with the man himself.
And for the first time in his life, Joey just cannot focus on the game playing out in front of him.
Not that seeing Yugi and Kaiba duel isn't always some sort of spectacle -- and these days, filled with so much innuendos and flirting it's like watching a particularly captivating trashy TV show -- but no matter the dramatics or the plot twists, Joey's attention is firmly held by the pretty woman sitting next to him in the spectator stands.
Kisara, Joey knows her name is after hearing Kaiba bark commands at her. Silky white hair flowing over her shoulders and curling round her pale face. Her eyes are a beautiful sparkling blue, intensely focussed on the laptop sitting on her knees.
"Hey, how's it going?" Joey says to her and fights the urge to wince.
Really? That's the best he can do?
Kisara blinks and turns her head to face him, concentration broken as she looks at Joey like she's only just realised he's there.
"Oh, hi. I'm just working," she tells him with a quick smile and fuck is it breathtaking.
She turns back to her laptop and Joey curses silently as he realises he'd missed the opportunity to say anything more, too captivated by her stupid pretty smile and now if he tries again it's gonna be awkward and god, what if he makes her uncomfortable?
Kaiba and Yugi's duel finishes soon after and Joey practically runs up to Yugi to try and escape his spiralling thoughts. The two of them are halfway to the door when Kaiba grabs his arm and pulls him back.
Joey whirls around, a taunt on the tip of his tongue. What's wrong, rich boy, want me to beat your ass too?
But he stops when he sees Kaiba's sneer.
"Don't hit on my assistant." He warns "Kisara is too good for a mutt like you."
Joey feels himself flush, pulling his arm out of Kaiba's grip.
"Fuck off man, I was just being polite!" He snaps back.
Seto's sneer falters slightly as he narrows his eyes, looking Joey over like he's some fun new puzzle to solve.
"At least wait until she's off the clock. I can't have you distracting her."
Seto stalks off before Joey can get another word in, Kisara at her bosses side in an instant. Despite recieving Kaiba's blessing -- which he didn't want or need, by the way -- Joey is almost certain it's not gonna do him any good anyway. Kisara is way out of his league, as usual, and totally not interested in him. As usual.
Joey suspects he has a type.
But just when he thinks he's done for, Kisara looks over his shoulder to shoot him a wink and a smile.
Oh. Joey thinks, heart beating so fast it could burst from his chest. I'm totally in love.
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sp-by-april · 2 days
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april pls hear my vision. some sort of i literally dont care how you make it work but either omegaverse or like werewolf ALPHA STAN ..... going into rut and desperately needing relief so pathetic needy clingy possessive stan fucking reader over and over and OVERRRR again through several rounds til hes decided reader is filled up enough & packed with his pups...... pls i am FERALLLLL agh
I did omegaverse with some hints of werewolf because idk that sounded fun lol. This is my first Omegaverse fic, please be gentle with me 🙏🏽💙
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Alpha!Stan x Omega!F!Reader
[Get a shot with a twist!] [Stan Marsh Master List]
I am a member of the court in King Kyle’s palace. I’m a handmaiden to the latest princess he’s been betrothed to. That means I run into Stan Marshwalker pretty regularly.
We’ve flirted a little, but we were both very busy people with important duties. I also knew something about him that was a closely guarded secret... Stan Marshwalker was a werewolf.
I had just left the Princess’ side and was roaming the halls ensuring nothing needed tending to. Once I confirmed that nothing required my attention, I retired to my bedchamber. I had just removed my corset when I heard the heavy door open and close.
I turned to the door, surprised to see Stan was standing there.
I stepped towards him thinking there was some emergency. His breathing was heavy, almost panting, and his pupils were obviously dilated. 
I grabbed his hand with growing concern, “Is everything okay?”
He glanced away briefly, his hand tightening around mine. 
“You’re in heat,” Stan growled low as he brought my wrist to his nose, “I can smell it on you,”
I tried to pull my wrist from him to no avail. It was something I was trying to hide, and apparently, I’d been unsuccessful. I should have known he’d figure it out, but everything still took me by surprise. I panicked knowing the full moon would rise in just an hour or two.
“I’ve always wanted you,” He pulled me into him, his voice growing thin, “But now I need you,”
He let go of my wrist and grabbed the shoulders of my dress, pushing the garment down past my chest to my waist. He stopped for just a moment, distracted by my breasts, then pushed my dress down past my hips and onto the floor.
“It’s fucking fate,” Stan said as he pushed me onto the bed.
As Stan stood over me, his eyes lasciviously combed over every bit of my naked body and I could see exactly how badly he needed relief as he stroked his throbbing hard-on over his pants. The guy looked huge. The idea of him fucking me was scary… and a little exciting. Very exciting.
“Us… like this,” His breath hitched as he unbuckled his heavy belt before letting it and his sword fall to the floor with a metallic clang, “Full moon. Heat. Rutting. All at once,”
He pulled off his helmet, dropped it and I still wasn’t sure what to do. I was attracted to him, but there were rules. I disliked the notion of some guy bursting into my room and deciding he could do whatever he wanted with me. More than that, I hated the idea that I wasn't in control of my own body's reaction to someone like him.
“Stan… We shouldn’t, it could cause so many problems,” I thought maybe I could reason with him...
As he climbed on top of me and settled between my legs, it was impossible to ignore the wet warmth pooling in the very place he wanted to lay claim to.
He pulled off his tunic and I was the one who was momentarily distracted, I never realized what a good body he had. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down to his thighs.
My heart raced, I could hear it pounding in my ears as I stared at his cock. God, it was immaculate. He was so thick and dripping wet with so much precum, I had the urge to lick him clean.
"Please? Please," Stan's voice thinned to a whimper as he stroked himself over me, "I need you,"
I was already wet with slick but seeing him want me so desperately turned me on even more.
“It has to be you,” He whined as he leaned over me, kissing my neck as he rubbed the tip over my slit, coating himself in my desire, “Please...”
He pushed into me, slowly pushing my body to its limits inch by inch as he sank inside.
His body shuddered over mine as he held steady, I think he was trying to let me adjust to his size, but he was so big, there was no real adjusting to it.
Stan’s hips started to shift into me in long, deep strokes and I was whimpering from the start.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” He groaned as his hot breath fell over my ear, “I knew you’d feel amazing,”
He started to pick up the pace, pounding into me harder, faster, harder. I moaned and writhed underneath him as my body tried to get used to this new rhythm.
His hand palmed my breast, rolling his thumb over my nipple. I couldn’t help but mewl. Stan twitched as he listened to me.
“You’re so responsive,” He leaned down and ran his tongue up my neck as he pinched my delicate bud.
A sheepish smile slid over his face, “I couldn’t stop now if I wanted to,”
I realized then that I could feel Stan's knot swelling inside of me.
He groaned as his hand slid over my cheek and his gaze was locked onto his thumb as it brushed over my lips, “You’re tied to me now,”
He locked his mouth onto mine and pushed his tongue into my mouth as his hips rocked in shorter, faster, deeper, harder strokes. As his tongue turned over mine, his dick was expertly massaging that sweet spot inside me and I knew I couldn’t take much more of this.
“Stan…” I tried to beg him to move slower, that I was too close, but he was preoccupied.
“I can’t wait to claim you. To fucking breed you,” He panted over me and his voice grew into a low growl, “I’m gonna keep going until I fill you up with pups,”
Stan leaned down, taking my nipple in his mouth, groaning into my breast. I cried out as his teeth grazed me. When he finally let go, there was a thin line of drool connecting his wet mouth to my breast.
His hips fell out of rhythm as each thrust became more and more urgent. His eyes were half-lidded and there was a look of satisfaction on his slack jaw as he pushed into me with each desperate, needy thrust.
My back arched and my muscles tensed up beyond measure. My nails pressed into his back, and I saw stars as all the pleasure in my body swelled, crested, and completely overtook me. A quivering moan poured from my mouth as the soft, silky walls inside my core closed around him and gripped his cock tight, like a pathetic, needy vice.
Stan's eyes rolled back, and a loud shuddering growl spilled out from deep within him. He bucked up into me with such a force, that I thought he was going to bruise something deep inside of me. He groaned and his hips twitched sporadically as his cock pulsed intensely, pumping me full of hot, sticky spurts.
He panted over me and I pushed on his chest trying to get him to move. He didn’t budge. Instead, his hand dipped between us.
“You’re still gonna be tied to me for a while…” His fingers began to rub my clit in tight little circles.
I writhed and whimpered under his touch and he seemed enamored as he watched my reaction.
“Anyway, it’s like I already I told you…” He groaned as his hips jerked into me, “I’m not gonna be done with you until you’ve been bred for sure,”
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jewish-vents · 1 day
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I wish goyim on the left would stop pretending they care about Palestinians. If you're willing to let Trump, who has said he wants to bomb Palestine so hard it turns to rubble and pave over it to make it into a parking lot, take control of the White House, you're not pro-Palestine. Your refusal to vote for someone who won't slaughter every single Palestinian happily allows someone who will to take power, meaning you've effectively just said "fuck it, I'm cool with genocide, actually" with more steps. And if you're that kind of evil, I think it's a bit late to pretend you care about anyone but yourself.
This isn't remotely related to caring about others. This is about feeling good and hating Jewish people, often to the point of not using the word 'people' to describe us, ever, under any circumstances. You're willing to let thousands of people be bombed to death if it lets you hate (((the Jews))) openly without repercussions. I get that. Hatred is a helleva drug and overdosing is easier than sobriety. But just say it. Just stop pretending altruism is a part of this and say it with your whole chest. You're not convincing anyone.
As someone with diagnosed lack of empathy, I can spot fake empathy a mile off. I know what it's like to have to feign empathy in order to avoid being viewed poorly by others. This is not that. This is feigning it on a grand scale by people whose actions will actively lead to the wholesale slaughter of the ones they're pretending to care about.
And then they want me to feel guilty for being Jewish. No. Firstly, I don't feel guilt. Secondly, I am not going to feel bad about harmless things. It's particularly egregious when I, someone with Anti-Social Personality Disorder, can logic my way to "we need a solution where neither side gets wiped out of existence" while people who don't even have a diagnosed problem earnestly go, "I'm not voting for Kamala because I'm such a good person! All Palestinians dying horribly is a totally acceptable price to pay for me feeling good and getting to hate Jews!"
Seeing them call themselves caring is like seeing people in fandom argue that Johnny the Homicidal Maniac is a nice guy - no, you're wrong, and also, are you fucking kidding me? Really?
.
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Venting
@kittenfangirl20
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
@yurnu
@lilacwriter07
@fanofstuff01
Sorry if this might seem like me bitching but I've really needed to bitch lately. I keep thinking about these two fanfics I stopped reading a while ago, it claimed it was adamsapple but all it really is is that Lilith is written like a bitching cunt and yet the authors claim that she is a fucking victim because Adam didn't know how to react when he found out his wife CHEATED on him!!! UGH and then they make Lucifer a fucking dick asshole to Adam EVEN AFTER ALL THE FUCKING SHIT HE DID TO HIM IN THE PAST!!!!!!!!!!! ARGH and then after one fake ass apology all is well and good and apparently, Lucifer is a fucking victim, and we should get on our knees and pray to them like fucking gods even though they fucking allowed sin to enter to the world even though I'm sure they were told numerous times NOT to do it and that there would be DIRE.FUCKING.CONSEQUENCES
Then there is this one person who I feel bad for even getting mad at! Because they seem like they're going through a lot, and they seem like a nice person in real life it's just UGH I HATE HOW THEY FAVOR LILITH!!!!! AFTER EVERYTHING SHE'S DONE AFTER EVER FUCKING THING HOW CAN ANYONE LIKE HER!!!!
OHOHOHO AND THAT'S NOT EVEN MENTIONING THIS ONE LILITH LOVER ON YOUTUBE WHO LITERALLY SINGS LILITH'S PRAISES I AINT GONNA SAY THEIR NAME BUT I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHO IT IS!!!!!
OH, AND BY THE WAY THEY ONCE TECHNICALLY STATED IN A COVER THAT ALL EXORCISTS ARE WORSE THAN A SINNER, WELL GOOD TO KNOW ANGELS ARE APPARENTLY WORSE THAN FUCKING VALENTINO OR A PEDOPHILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
GOD WHY DON'T THEY ALL JUST GO TAKE LILITH AND LUCIFER AT MAKE-OUT POINT AND TAKE TURNS THREE-WAYING WITH THEM IF THEY LOVE THEM SO MUCH!?!?!?!
OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK OK!!!!
I know I'm bitching and I know I probably sound like a fucking cunt believe me I hear it but I just really, really, really, really, really needed to let that out
Oh, and by the way
NOT ALL SINNERS CAN BE OR EVEN SHOULD REDEEMED, LIKE SAY FOR EXAMPLE I DON'T KNOW MAYBE A FUCKING NAZI!?!?!?!
Yes, there are some down there that can be redeemed, at least in the show, but there are many demons who don't even WANT salvation, not just because they don't think it's possible, but because they don't WANT to change for the better
I just wish these people would understand that, ESPECIALLY since it pertains to real life, there are just some people you can't save
Anyway, glad I finally got this off my chest I've been holding this in
Oh! Also @taradiddled if you're seeing this, I swear to the holy father this post IS IN NO WAY about you or your fic, I actually like it. Sorry if you ever got that conclusion
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cosymelody · 18 hours
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Okay but you know what's better than Hylian space orc!Reader? Hylian space orc!Dom! Reader
Not only is there little content on Dom readers, If not (for what the chain is) I think that someone with a cold mind and who thinks about all the options and possibilities is more suitable to manage the chain, Of course the chain's bodies, mind, soul and heart already belong to Reader, but we already know what happens to the chain if they become too greedy, territorial, protective and more....So someone needs to teach them discipline, control and good behavior (it's like training dogs) (well with Twilight it may be very literal-)
So, yes, someone who analyzes the situation, the benefits and drawbacks, and learns to monopolize control (perhaps with a little manipulation involved) is more suitable, and very, very mentally strong.
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YESSSSS THIS IS THE SHIT I LIVE FOR
Personally, this is my absolute FAVORITE kind of Reader so when I find even a crumb of content on it I absolutely DEVOUR it!
(Gn! Reader implied 👍)
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Hylian Space Orc!Dom! Reader (aka HSO!Dom! Reader as I shall call it for now) is exactly how I imagine the reader when I write! Definitely not projecting myself into my own writing in a way hahaaa
HSO!Dom! Reader is definitely something I strive for in my writings since in many cases it can help to balance out the yandere tendencies of the Chain. Even more so when Reader can be an absolute sweetheart when the Chain behave, but can do a whole 360 and turn into a sadistic/scolding parent that puts the boys in there place, which for most of them would urge them to be good for their god/goddess just for a hint of praise and affection they desperately crave for.
Reader knows exactly what makes the boys tick and what causes their possessive urges to rise and has taken action to catch and calm them before they can even think about chasing killing off whoever it was that dared to take Reader's attention away from them. It's gotten to the point where Reader can so much as sense a slight hint of jealousy and diffuse the situation before it even occurs.
Don't get me wrong, Reader is happy to have the group of heroes so obsessed with them definitely not because they are just as obsessed if not more so than the Chain, but they aren't too fond of the fact that every shopkeeper and traveler they encounter seem to be scared off by the Chain due to the way the boys seem to glare daggers into the stranger that has Reader's attention. With the way they think and with how they seem to be much stronger than the boys due to the Chain having a different biological body structure, Reader can easily stop any fights between the Chain or with random people they encounter just by holding one of the Links to their chest or just throwing one or more of the boys over their shoulder. It especially helps with the more antsy and aggressive Links (Four, Twilight, Wild, Courage, Sage, etc.).
When one of them start acting just a slight bit passive-aggressive or start to become more possessive and violent, all it takes is one glare from Reader for them to know they are acting out of line and they should stop before they lose their beloved. Sometimes it doesn't work on a few of the boys, especially when they're insistent and stubborn on what they think is right, but they start to quickly learn and correlate good behavior with positive attention and praise from their angel.
The ones who would most likely be first to associate your positive attention with good behavior would most likely be Hyrule, First, Koridai, Warriors, and Time possibly a few more to name a few. They quickly get their act together and show a good side to Reader just to hear they're honeyed and addictive words that are definitely not laced with a tad bit of manipulation to pull the strings of their dear Chain, but even then, Reader can tell when they've went and offed someone behind their back which only results in a cold shoulder and them learning to progressively lower the bodies they have to hide and instead focus on behaving well for them.
When they do start to get better, they start getting more and more rewards from Reader which can be anywhere from more time together, more physical affection, more words of encouragement and love, and so much more which feeds into them being good and obedient for their Reader. It's like slowly taming a group of feral beasts, teaching them that if they do good in Reader's eyes, they get positive reinforcement and get to have more of their beloved to themselves.
With HSO!Dom! Reader, it's obvious they are stronger than the Links in more ways than one (physically, mentally, emotionally) and are more than capable of putting them in their place in order to calm their desire that burns within them so brightly. I definitely need to start putting this aspect into more of my writing in the future even though I already have in most of them!
If anyone would like to add on to this little idea, I'd LOVE to see what people think of this aspect not me writing this in the middle of the night when I've got work early in the morning! I also need to stop forgetting that I exist and I should probably keep doing this cuz I forget about all the WIPs I have ಠ_ಠ
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growling · 4 months
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*average self-proclaimed safe space tumblr blog voice* I soooooo support people with schizophrenia that must be so hard to you anyway I just saw some weird looking woman talking to herself right outside my house im fearing for my life should I call the cops. Yeah dude I support all the adhd havers in the chat just try to pay attention when I talk to you it's not that hard it's like the least you could do to show some regard for the other human being in front of you. Like it's fine to have memory problems but why did you forget this one thing in particular that was important to me do you like not care or anything you should try harder. I am one of the only real mental health advocates to still exist in this world I hear your struggles that being said I hope I never get to meet one of those irl sociopaths or people with aspd whatever they call them now they're so freaky and they can blend into society so well you might never know if you're actually face to face with an actual socio i mean person with aspd in the store absolutely one of my biggest fears what if they torture me in their basement. I absolutely empathize with all the people in here suffering from delusions as long as they like, don't actually show it or have one concerning me that'd be highkey uncomfy leave me out of this dude im not talking to you until you get help, anyway my fav character from my anime just presumably died but i still think they actually survived im sooo delulu lol. We should push for more wheelchair accessibility in our cities I agree but like it's so difficult to tell how many people are actually disabled and who are actually faking it, like, ummm why did that "wheelchair" "user" guy stand up just now cover blown lmaoo…. Yeah I support people with facial differences but I still have a right to be disgusted you can't control my emotions anyway can you tag your selfies as #body horror this deeply triggering to me. Speaking of triggering can you also pleaseee hide your scars or at least warn us beforehand jesus do you know how many people genuinely do not want to see it. Here is my extremely fast strobing lights and flashing gifset #epilepsy. Yeah I loveee girls with bpd beautiful princess disorder am i right they're so interesting the stigma sucksssss i'd love to get to be one's favourite person as long as they don't actually have any of those weird or violent symptoms or don't go into any of their "episodes" near me like that's a bit dramatic….. I deeply feel for those who had underwent narcissistic abuse from the hands of an npd I think my shitty ex boyfriend was a narcissist too tbh #surviving narcissism here are 10 signs you are dealing with a narcissist and here's a tutorial on how to trigger a narc crash to epically own them anyway does anyone else think we should start enforcing mandatory castration of all the newly diagnosed narcs like you know what happens when they reproduce right. But I am willing to support them as long as they go to therapy to get that fixed it's just you know. Anyway sometimes hospitalisation is fine if they're genuinely a danger to themselves like what do you want them to go live on the streets or actually get help?? I support all the people dealing with being a professionally diagnosed disordered system and I think it's sooooo terrible how literally 99% of the youth population nowadays is purposefully faking it for attention I did my research (1 minute google search, 2 minute r/fakedisordercringe scrolling session and consulting a single system that agrees with me). It's just not believable to me that there's really that many people with it isn't it supposed to be rare… Also are we really sure all those alleged people in their heads are really real or just their imagination maybe all of them are actually faking it huh food for thought. I am very uncomfortable with nonverbal high support needs ppl actually having sex like consent is supposed to be explicitly verbal only and, are we really sure they can even consent arent they like basically children. You can't call me ableist I'm literally autistic
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albinoturtle12 · 4 months
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With the release of Hades 2 Early Access, there has been an increase in discussions about the myths around Arachne, and with it an increase in discussion about Athena and Medusa as well. In these discussions, I feel that there has been a fundamental misunderstanding about the nature of myths and legends, and how they are different from other stories.
Legends are not like a book or TV show, where you can lean on the source material to argue or disprove interpretations of various characters. mythology is built on a common understanding of stories and figures, and the source material is only important to the degree it affects that common understanding
The best example of this is Arthurian legend, where many of the most notable characters were invented as fanfiction well after the original myths were written down. Lancelot was invented by a French writer as an OC in order to incorporate ideas of courtly love, but if one attempted to disregard Lancelot on the basis that he was not a part of the original British myths, they would be laughed out of any discussion on the subject, because the common understanding of Arthurian mythology is indelibly linked to Lancelot's role as the most notable knight of the Round Table and his affair with Guinevere.
I bring this up because the story of Medusa as a sexual assault victim that is then cursed by Athena goes back to Ovid's Metamorphoses in 8 CE, and some are using that to claim that we should disregard that story in our understanding of Athena, instead relying on earlier versions of the myth. However, that version of Medusa is absolutely critical to the common understanding of Medusa and Athena. Similarly, Arachne's myth has many versions, but all of them revolve around Athena cursing her out of spite (for losing the competition) or pettiness (for being insulted by Arachne's weaving and arrogance).
It is entirely fine for personal understanding of legends and gods include a watering-down of their worst aspects. It is fine for your understanding of Athena to disregard Arachne and Medusa, or for your understanding of Aphrodite to disregard her treatment of Psyche, or your understanding of Morgan Le Fae to disregard the conception of Mordred. However, you cannot then argue that that watered-down version is the correct understanding, and you definitely cannot back up that claim with a reliance on the source material like mythology is a book series with a set-in-stone canon.
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sga-owns-my-soul · 8 months
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as someone who has been misdiagnosed at best and fully ignored and not believed at worst about my health issues, it's really frustrating when people tell me i don't really have something unless a doctor has diagnosed me. doctors don't believe i have any issues to begin with, why are they supposed to be trusted over me?? like i get they have degrees but idiots get degrees literally all the time. idk it's just really frustrating when i tell people i have food sensitives and they don't believe me unless i can procure an allergy test. i tell people i have chronic pain and unless a doctor told me that, it doesn't count. i'm not allowed to identify as autistic until a doctor tells me i can. like i get looking something up once isn't the same as a medical degree but idk can we maybe just. stop pretending doctors are the only ones capable of telling what's wrong with someone? can we maybe trust that sometimes people do actually know what's going on with their body and their health?
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emmebearpaw · 4 months
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Keeping my thoughts short as I find trying to write about my emotions just makes me feel them longer as I continue feeling them while writing about them. Do you ever find yourself wishing something upon yourself that would objectively make your life harder because “then it would be easier to make things make sense”. Like, no brain, having more symptoms of neurodivergence wouldn’t make things better except for in the very specific situation of diagnosis. It would just make our life harder the rest of the time. No dysphoria isn’t something to want either. Yes it would make it easier to parse out what the gender situation actually is. In both fronts we just have to be ok with never investigating and never getting an answer, because investigating is miserable due to how unhappy it makes me and without investigating I can’t get an answer. Now please stop thinking about myself and stop feeling the stomach void TM plus nausea.
#my post#Hi there irls I know you are probably not seeing this#I know it’s a running gag that I should see a psychiatrist and get diagnosed. I don’t meet enough criteria#I can’t give exact details as true to what I’ve mentioned I’ve banned myself from looking at the dsm for myself because it makes me miserab#There aren’t enough things to say I’m neurodivergent and something is… off about me or whatever that people can seem to clock there is#Something is but there isn’t enough and I’m going fucking insane about this again#Just sometimes my brain decides it can’t be a girl. That I need to fix it now. I have a binder. Put it on now. It screams as I am busy#And my binder is at home because I’m fucking fine most of the time. My current binder makes my chest too flat. I should get a shittier bind#It says. I don’t have opinions on pronouns except for when I do#oh hey they changed again.#Is my gender fluid? Do I just have dysphoria sometimes and not others? Why is my default state “idgaf” which is so hard to read#Pick a fucking lane me. Stop standing there#Except fucking moving means making myself miserable in the investigation process to pick a side#And so the easiest place to live is on the line between the lanes. I only get clipped by mirrors occasionally. It’ll take months of misery#To try to move again. So here I live.#In between.#I failed at keeping this short. I feel worse than when I started#Why do I bother writing out my emotions at all. It seems like distraction and then bed is always the best option.#Have a good (time of day)
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mischiefprincess · 4 months
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I have so many thoughts about Mobius, I absolutely HATE the way he treats Loki in various moments of s1, the way he tries to manipulate him and use him for the tva's mission, and he has the audacity to feel betrayed by Loki when he runs after sylvie and leaves him behind in s1e2???
Sir you KIDNAPPED LOKI AND ERASED HIS ENTIRE REALITY, MENTALLY TORTURED HIM WITH FOOTAGE FROM HIS TRAGIC FUTURE, COERCED HIM INTO WORKING FOR YOU UNDER THE THREAT OF BEING ERASED FROM REALITY IF HE DIDN'T COMPLY AND YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE MAD AT HIM FOR TRYING TO ESCAPE???
What he does after is even worse, I could NEVER accept him putting Loki into a torture loop to be kicked in the balls and to hear Sif telling him that he deserves to be alone and he always will be, the worse part imo is that a lot of lokius fans seem to think this is cute and a show of Mobius's feelings towards Loki, what the hell???
First off he doesn't have the right to be mad at Loki, second, torturing someone like that is absolutely fucking VILE and I don't care that people think it's cute or funny
BUT
I blame those disgusting actions more on the directing of s1 who was very keen in humiliating Loki at any given moment than in the character of Mobius itself, I ADORE Mobius in s2 bc he is sweet, caring and understanding of Loki, he truly is a good friend and I love their dynamic in it, I don't know what Kate Herron had against Loki but she truly tried her best to diminish and humiliate him whenever she could, every character is annoyed by Loki in s1 and he's treated like a fucking idiot, thankfully that was changed in s2 and he was finally treated with respect and dignity
Btw I should say that I appreciate lokius very much and I think they're cute together but pls stop with the crap, Mobius's "jealousy" isn't cute or funny, he literally abuses Loki just bc he can and Loki never gets a proper apology for that, Mobius apologizes to sylvie but never to Loki (KH when I find you...), again I blame this on the directing and writing of s1 and I don't think s2 Mobius would've done all that to Loki bc he's a different character in it
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tarmac-rat · 1 year
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People Who Don't Like Cyberpunk 2077 Stop Posting Your Hot Takes in the Main Tag challenge
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myname-isnia · 7 months
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It's that "spend hours sobbing my eyes out in bed for several reasons, including but not limited to the fact tomorrow is Monday, the fact my social battery has been completely drained and won't recover anytime soon, the fact my landlady is due to show up tomorrow evening and will likely piss me off again, the fact I've had the urge to write since Friday and ended up not writing even a single fucking word, the fact exam pressure keeps rising and I still don't know what to do with my life after I'm done with school, and the fact I'm both completely overwhelmed and so terribly lonely at the same time" kind of Sunday evenings
#I'm so fucking exhausted. both mentally and emotionally#I spent the night at my grandma's and then my friend came over and spent the night the following day#and I don't count it as a day off unless I don't go anywhere or see anyone#so you could say I didn't really have a weekend#idk how I'll go to school tomorrow. I think even one person talking to me would make me fucking explode#and yet. despite all that. I feel completely alone#because no one I know irl can provide me with the comfort I so desperately need#spending time with people is all a big distraction from my depressive thoughts#and the second everyone leaves.. I feel more alone than ever. so completely and utterly lonely#I try to fill the void with my imagination. lose myself in my oc verse. and it helps sometimes#but when I'm not feeling particularly inspired or can't some up with anything good... I just end up feeling worse than I did before#everything I do is to distract myself from my mind because the second I'm left alone with my thoughts..#they go to a very dark place very quickly#like now. when my wrists itch and I can't stop crying and know full well that I'll go to bed in a few hours wishing to never wake up#and I'm left with nothing but a gaping hole in my chest. aching for arms to fall into and a shoulder to cry on#despite knowing it's not something I'll ever have#so I grit my teeth and bear it and hold on. for whatever reason#I don't know why I haven't give up yet. it's all arbitrary reasons like 'my friends would be sad if I was gone'#even in matters like these all I end up worrying about is what other people would think. not my own feelings#well. nobody has anything to worry about concerning me anyway. I'm too much of a coward to do anything#if I wasn't I wouldn't have lived to see my 14th birthday#and yet 4 years later I'm still here. wishing for an instantaneous way out that didn't involve me raising a hand against myself#because I really don't know how long I'll be able to take all this for. I don't have much left in me#I'm holding on by a thread. one too close to snapping. I'm scared of how few reasons I can come up with to keep going#I don't see a future ahead of myself. no college or uni or job or relationship or anything that might be worth staying around for#any attempts to imagine what life would be like after graduation are just.. dark and bleak and empty#I haven't got a single clue what I'm going to end up doing. maybe that's why I see so little worth in trying to figure it out#nothing in this world will make me truly happy. I don't have a future#and if I don't have a future... I don't have any reasons to stick around any further#if only I wasn't so much of a coward
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