#BECAUSE I WILL DO IT IF NO ONE ELSE HAS DONE IT YET

[fuckyeahfightlock]

I think people confuse the history of Thanksgiving with the story of Thanksgiving we were taught in school (pilgrims and "Indians" sharing a meal as a sign of camaraderie).

From Theodore Roosevelt Center's website:

"Prior to Franklin Roosevelt’s presidency, Thanksgiving was celebrated on whichever date the President proclaimed it to be. George Washington issued the first Presidential proclamation for Thanksgiving in 1789, and Presidents continued to do so thereafter.

Following this long-standing tradition, Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed Thursday, November 29, 1906, to be a day of thanksgiving and supplication. The text of this proclamation is as follows:

"By the President of the United States of America.

A PROCLAMATION.

     The time of year has come when, in accordance with the wise custom of our forefathers, it becomes my duty to set aside a special day of thanksgiving and praise to the Almighty because of the blessings we have received, and of prayer that these blessings may be continued. Yet another year of widespread well-being has past. Never before in our history or in the history of any other nation has a people enjoyed more abounding material prosperity than is ours; a prosperity so great that it should arouse in us no spirit of reckless pride, and least of all a spirit of heedless disregard of our responsibilities; but rather a sober sense of our many blessings, and a resolute purpose, under Providence, not to forfeit them by any action of our own.

     Material well-being, indispensable tho it is, can never be anything but the foundation of true national great-ness and happiness. If we build nothing upon this foundation, then our national life will be as meaningless and empty as a house where only the foundation has been laid. Upon our material well-being must be built a superstructure of individual and national life lived in accordance with the laws of the highest morality, or else our prosperity itself will in the long run turn out a curse instead of a blessing. We should be both reverently thankful for what we have received, and earnestly bent upon turning it into a means of grace and not of destruction.

     Accordingly I hereby set apart Thursday, the twenty-ninth day of November, next, as a day of thanksgiving and supplication, on which the people shall meet in their homes or their churches, devoutly to acknowledge all that has been given them, and to pray that they may in addition receive the power to use these gifts aright.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixt.

Done at the City of Washington this 22nd day of October in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and six and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and thirty-first.

Theodore Roosevelt

By the President: Elihu Root / Secretary of State.

Interestingly, this proclamation may be more cautionary than celebratory. Roosevelt declares the day of thanksgiving in a solemn tone that suggests that American citizens take their blessings for granted. He [exhorts] the population to build upon their material prosperity in a meaningful manner so that this prosperity is not wasted. Considering how sober the final proclamation is, it is more surprising to see the content Roosevelt removed. The document in our digital library clearly shows what the president removed from his original manuscript, the language of which was much harsher. In the sentences that were removed, TR discusses "our own folly, weakness or wickedness," and expounds upon the theme of disaster that would surely come if Americans are not careful with their "material well-being." 

Detail, A Proclamation by the President of the United States of America, October 22, 1906, MS Am 1454.50 (146), Theodore Roosevelt Collection, Houghton Library, Harvard University. Electronic copy sponsored by the Theodore Roosevelt Center at Dickinson State University. For reproduction or publication permission, contact the Theodore Roosevelt Collection, Houghton Library.

The content of this proclamation reflects a turning point in our nation’s history. As the extreme wealth of the late 19th century continued to be amassed early in the 20th, proponents of reform began to emerge, pushing the nation toward the Progressive Era."

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter V : The Epiphany.

Summary: Aemond's been taking care of you since you fainted, at last you finally wake up.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v sex, canon typical incest, nothing too crazy, mentions of purity culture and customs, hymen breaking (reader's transmigrated body, this isn't specified for the body outside of the world), blood mentions, Aemond becomes a softie ig (cherish him y'all), + not proofread, please let me know if I forget anything else!

A/N: it's back!!! divider credits @cafekitsune

<- prev // masterlist // next ->

You blink open your eyes staring at the openview outside of the window, the sky beginning to darken.

It seems you've passed out once again. It's probably been a few hours. This body is extremely weak, you needed to do something about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't hear the door open so you jump slightly when it slammed shut. Looking up, you see Aemond whose eye widened as he rushed over to you, dropping a rag of cloth and the bucket in his hand, causing the water in it to pour out. “How are you feeling?” He questions, grabbing your hand, checking your temperature and pulse.

“I am alright, how long have I been asleep?” You ask him.

“A week.”

That reply made your heart stop.

A week?

That long?

“Are you serious?” You ask and he nods, “Yes, we were all concerned and I thought—” He cups your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I thought you went into a long slumber again, but I thank the heavens you did not.”

Perhaps the last encounter with Aemond really pushed the limits.

“Did.. anything happen while I was asleep?” You ask once again, wanting to know what happened during your absence of consciousness. Aemond sighs. “Your mother and siblings have all returned to Dragonstone as there was an urgent matter at hand, they were unable to take you with them.”

“I see.” You furrow your brows, wondering why Viserys hasn't died yet. It has been a week, was his death gonna occur at any moment now? There was a deep feeling in your gut that something would happen soon.

Aemond sits on the bed, before pulling you into his embrace. “I apologise.” He mutters into your ear. “What for?” You ask confused, hugging him back. “It was because of me that you had fainted.” You could feel his breath hitting against the back of your neck as he spoke.

You pull away from the embrace, giving him a smile. “I am just weak.” You reply, in an attempt to tell him that it was not his fault. He smiles at you. Your eyes fall to the bucket on the ground before you look at him. “Have you been taking care of me?” You question and he nods, which makes you feel embarrassed.

“Why bother? The maids could've done it.” You shrug but he shakes his head. “I do not want anyone I do not trust near you when you are vulnerable.” He replies.

You just simply nod at his reply, feeling the silence fall between you two. The air turns cold causing shivers to travel up your spine. Aemond continues to stare at you, taking in your features.

Since your apology, it seems the environment and the atmosphere around you and Aemond has changed, you could feel it. The way his face blanketed on a worried expression, the longing in his eyes, you could see it. Something has definitely changed in him. And you did not know if it was for the better or worse.

He leans closer and you look into his eye, your heart accelerating as you anticipate him to lean. He does exactly that, he leans in, capturing your lips with his moving them in a slow manner, contrary to the first time you both shared a kiss.

Aemond seemed to have significantly warmed up to you now, it was one thing that you had fixed after coming into this world.

His hand travels to the back of your head as he pushes you further into the kiss, wanting to get closer to you; to seek your warmth. You couldn't help but melt into his hold, reciprocating the kiss as your hand reaches up to rest on the bend of his elbow.

He pulls away, panting heavily as he takes you in, the sight of his saliva glistening on your lips, the light of the candles around you bouncing off of the shine. He couldn't help but crave you more.

But he knew, he had to stop himself before he lost control, he shouldn't be taking your maidenhead without getting married, cause it is a part of your dignity. He respected you enough to consider this fact.

Yet, you were so irresistible, he felt like a feral animal, trying to lock his own desires in a cage. You do not know the effect you have on him. You couldn't help but notice that the environment had indeed turned a little tense and you knew exactly what he was thinking, his eye failing to hide his desire and craving for you.

And so, you took the initiative, not liking the way he was restraining himself from you. Had this been the Aemond from a week ago, he would've taken your maidenhood without mercy as a way to teach you a lesson, because he was a cruel man. But now that man is no more, replaced or rather, reformed into his younger self who loved you a lot.

You pushed him onto the bed, straddling him. His hair was sprawled out behind him like a halo, making him look like an angel that has descended from the heavens above.

He was taken aback by your bold move. His hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage as he felt you straddle him, your thighs on both sides of his legs as you sat on top of his crotch.

He felt embarrassed, feeling you shift on top of his crotch, his breeches meekly trying to conceal his hardening shaft like a lone leaf holding onto its branch against the strong wind.

It was futile, because you feel the outline of his cock quite clearly.

Your hands moved on their own accord, your body taking the lead like it always did. Perhaps the owner of this body is still inside somewhere, yet you could feel no one else's consciousness in your brain except yours. Maybe you are the—

The sound of clothes ripping cut you off from your thoughts and you realised that Aemond has ripped your nightgown by pulling it off your shoulder before he grabbed it with both his hands and tore it down the middle, exposing your breasts.

He grabbed onto them, his movements becoming bolder each second, as if he's slowly releasing the beast yet still trying to keep it tamed. His thumbs caressed your nipples, pressing against the hard nubs before he sat up, taking one of your breasts into his mouth.

He breathed out in satisfaction, suckling onto your areolas, his tongue swirling around the nub and flicking against it continuously before he'd suck on it, repeating this in a loop.

You felt yourself getting wet down there, so you rub yourself against him, trying to ease the ache in between your legs, but he holds you down, grunting before he lets go of your breasts with a pop.

He shakes his head lightly, “Are you sure about this?” He asks, and you nod desperately, your mind filled with the thoughts of just wanting his cock inside you, pushing out any rationality left in you.

“Please— Aemond.. I want you..” Those words leave your mouth voluntarily as you grab his shoulders tightly, indicating that you really mean it. You cup his cheek before catching his lips in a searing hot kiss.

Those words that left your mouth set the forest inside his heart ablaze, the fire of desire engulfing him in its warmth. The feral beast broke free and took control immediately.

He flipped you over, pushing you onto the bed, getting on top of you. He begins kissing your neck, sucking your sweet spot, leaving his marks, his teeth biting on your flesh as a way to claim you as his own.

He pulls away, panting heavily, immediately scrambling to undo his breeches, freeing his cock from the confines of the material. He pulled off his leather suit as well, the tunic following along with his tunic, hating the way the sweat was sticking to him.

You wouldn't help but admire the view in front of you. You spread your legs before he could say anything, hiking up your nightgown to reveal your cunt. Aemond's eye widened in surprise at your bold move, driving him crazy even more.

Aemond grabbed you by your thighs, pulling you forward as he lined himself against your entrance as he slowly pushed in. You winced when you felt a sudden heat of pain down there. His length penetrates you slowly.

He wanted to pull out the minute he saw blood, yet the darker side of him only felt motivated, knowing that he's taking your maidenhead. It drove him further off the edge.

You on the other hand only felt slight discomfort but your eyes widened when you saw blood.

Ah right, the hymen of women in this era is still intact as they're not that active for it to break off due to physical movement. So even the slightest penetration would lead you to bleed.

Basic biology, you shrugged it off, if only they knew. You felt annoyed, not agreeing with the custom this era practices.

Aemond settled fully inside you, his cock throbbing inside, the way your walls felt warm around him. Without a warning he began moving, which cut you off your thoughts when you felt yourself being jolted up and down, his thrusts starting off rough from the beginning.

‘That's right, focus on him for now.’ You tell yourself internally, gripping onto his shoulders, staring into his eye. Your hand reached upwards towards his eyepatch and he flinched away a little before he realised what you were doing.

You took the eyepatch off, revealing the sapphire that rested in his eye. You sat on your elbows, cupping his cheek as he leans in. You kiss him on the eye before kissing his cheek and finally kissing him on the lips.

He pushes you back onto the bed, not breaking the kiss and neither stopping his thrusts as he supports himself on his elbows kissing you with thirst desperately wanting to be quenched while simultaneously ramming into you.

You gasped when you felt him hit your sweet spot, making way for his tongue to slip past your lips, his tongue challenging yours in a battle of dominance.

You were losing it, of course, because his tip kept ramming and grazing against your gspot, pushing you to the edge. You gripped his back in desperation, your fingers leaving bites on his flesh.

And then, you felt it, the sudden shot of immense pleasure up your spine to the point it made you push your head back into the mattress as you gasped loudly into the kiss, whining directly into it. The pleasure blinded you temporarily as you convulsed around him.

He felt you clench and grip him tightly, which pushed him off the edge as well, he grunted, finishing inside you with a soft call of your name, it felt erotic, it felt comforting all at once.

Aemond wouldn't stop with just this one time, after all, he finally got the taste of what he craved the most. He continued all night, taking you all positions known to mankind, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him.

The night was wonderful, it was only when the sky began to turn into a lighter shade than darkness that he'd stop, collapsing next you and allowing you to rest in his arms.

You fell asleep soundly in his embrace. It was peaceful.

But, the peace wouldn't last for long.

The knocks on your chamber door were hurried and loud. Aemond grunted in his sleep, annoyed at the disturbance before waking up, you had woken up as well. He wrapped a cloth around his lower body before he went and opened the door, to find a panicked Alicent.

“Y/N— Aemond?” She's surprised to see Aemond, so many questions arise in her mind as she's processing the sight before her. She wanted to reprimand, but she could not because a lot was on her mind already.

“What is it, mother?” Aemond asks cooly, not bothered by her reaction. You hold the blanket to your chest, leaning sideways to try and catch a glimpse of Alicent, yet you only catch a sight of her dress and her dishevelled hair.

“Aemond your father— is dead.”

The words that left her mouth made your blood run cold. Aemond seemed just as shocked, remaining silent as he processed the information before he blinked. “And Aegon, he's gone.” She finishes.

Aemond immediately returns back into the room, putting on his breeches with haste before throwing on the tunic and rushing out of the room. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Viserys is dead.

Aegon is gone.

Fuck.

TAGLIST !!

@gabriella-aesthetic @delaynew @idonotknowenglish @dixie-elocin @intheheartoftheking @dracaryxzs @ladyoffandoms @zoleea-exultant @saturnssrings @uniquecutie-puffs @aleemendoza2425-blog @marvelita85 @feelingfaye @sylvievil @cypherpt5fttaehyung @ttysmfwna @void21 @technicallystrangereview @feyresqueen @evergreen9083 @mirandasidefics @org12 @blorbo-brainrot @thisishwrworld @shadowqueen09 @watermel0nsugarhigh @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @madislayyy @the-hufflebird-girl @hiatuswhore

[taiey]

a minor analysis of Manepear's manipulation (mane-ipulation)

A few thoughts to frame the discussion: Clownpierce has the mace; Clownpierce has not yet died. Clownpierce doesn't log on very often, and of everyone on the server Clownpierce is closest to Kaboodle.

With that in mind... 1hr 13min into 'A New Leaf..?', after a lot of open honest conversation about the war, morality, honour and Mane's potential as an interior decorator, Kaboodle brings up her constancy towards Clownpierce and Manepear starts telling her she should put herself first, because Clown doesn't.

He starts with the basic, obvious facts: Clown doesn't log on very often, he's never attacked Mane for her, he's never sacrificed himself for her like she has for him. Even... Woogie..? backs him up on all that.

Then she starts bringing up counter-examples and he pushes back, with subtle mis-framings like "it would have been easy for him to say I searched for Mapic on purpose so that I could get back for you" when, like, I saw that video and I bet you did too, he said that to Mapicc, and not to Kaboodle. Or brushing off that time he did fight Mane's team as if there's "10 people he knows he's not going to get targeted and if he gets a kill on Main and Flame that would be huge for him", when, uh, it's not that Mane has specific knowledge that the other group chat was considering jumping Clown for the mace earlier in the day, but I do feel that dynamic is sufficiently common knowledge.

I've actually had this thought before because I thought that he was, I was, I was confident that he was betraying me cuz I was thinking like "why would Clownpierce betray and and use everybody except for me? how does that make any sense? why would I be the only one?" and it doesn't make sense like nothing would make me special

Drawing parallels digs into her fears without him directly saying she's not special so as to elicit sympathy and not offense. (and pay no attention to the dissimilarities in their relationships to clown)

I think it was easy for him to defend you from Subz because he knows that he can kill Subz but if it was me in that situation I'm not so sure if he would he would have done the same thing

(y'know i didn't actually notice at the time that uh that's a very different line than his Subz Glazing to Zam&Mapicc)

Mane: did he leave my alliance or did I force him out? Kab: you did force him out Mane: he didn't have a choice not to choose you Kab: yeah that's a horrible... Mane: [crosstalk] he could have at least shot me a DM—wait! Oh my gosh! I just remembered

Things I did not notice on first listen: sorry, when could he have shot you a DM? When you turned on him?? No, no, that segue makes no sense. Mane absolutely did not "just remember". DMs only came into this because he wanted a segue into: his climactic reveal.

When I was looking for your base, I told him about my, my plan to find you using dogs, and he was telling me how to do it more efficiently.

So. Let's look at [the screenshots that i copied off someone else o7]

The first thing that stood out to me, as I was watching the stream, was this: Mane says "he was telling me how to do it more efficiently", and then he lets Kab stew in that for a bit, and then he sends her these screenshots. The framing is set up. But there is not one line in there that is Clown giving Mane advice on how to track her.

The nearest he gets to advice is "she knows when you do tho". Mane glosses that to Kab as "he was telling me exactly what not to do as well", but listen: look at it. The closest he gets to advice is: maybe don't track her. Maybe you shouldn't even try.

Mane asked "what should I say", he relates it like it's another example of advice, which looks like it could lead to advice, and then the screenshot cuts off. And... it's shorter than the first one. We know for an absolute fact that the height is not limited by, say, the height of the screen. It cuts off there because whatever comes after that does not back up the narrative Mane's selling her.

Laughing about her, saying she's scared: it's emotionally affecting, but it's not actionable information. It does not help Mane find Kab. All it does is give the feeling that Clown is on Mane's side.

After exiting the conversation Kaboodle grieves to chat about it; she starts off thinking of it as"actively telling Mane how to find me is, is..." but a few minutes later she's caught on to "if you look at the messages he's not actively selling me out"; she has prior history of coming back the next day going hang on...

Very interested to see how far she gets with it. That thing with the dogs was streamed live; I watched it. The memory of it tickled at my brain, so after today's ended I tracked it down, and found:

Clownpierce: Did he find the manepears? What? Kaboodle: So all the manepears teleported to me when they hit, when he hit them. Clown: [AWKWARD LAUGHTER] Kab, fearless: I'm thousands of blocks away, I'm really far away. Clownpierce: Maybe they... they sometimes do move in the direction they teleport to, maybe he knows the location. Maybe - maybe move around.

Clownpierce was DMing Manepear saying "ok good idea"—and then, on a call with Kaboodle, telling her Mane's tactic and what to do about it.

:)

(He doesn't maximally betray Mane, he doesn't tell her he knows Mane's doing that or tell her before it starts happening; there's a degree of trying to stay on both sides. But he isn't neutral, and he is ultimately, materially, on Kab's side.)

I, like Kaboodle, saw Manepear's "removing all netherite" video and really enjoyed it (the twists genuinely surprised me) but there was this doubt where—videos and not streams usually feel this way to me—I wasn't sure whether, to convince the server that he wasn't the guy on his friend's account, he had to actually convince them. I just knew that was a kind of story he wanted to tell, and hoped he'd try it on Lifesteal.

Now, though, I believe it. I've seen maybe two other fandom people even doubting this. I believe he did because I see he can. And oh my goodness I love it.

[cyarikaplease]

oral fixation

summary: din eats pussy for the first time.

Din has a little problem, a hyper fixation you might say. He wants to eat you out so bad. It’s a deep, primal urge inside him. But being desperate to eat you out isn’t necessarily a problem, though. The problem is that he’s never done it before. He’s worried he’ll be bad at it. He’s worried you’ll hate it and never want him to do it again. That thought breaks his heart. He loves you more than anything else in the galaxy. All he wants to do is pleasure you. 

So what does every anxious, inexperienced man turn to at a time like this? He turns to porn. 

When you first got together, several many months ago, you brought a holo-pad onto the Crest. Din thought it was mainly for reading or mapping out a course for traveling. But what he didn’t realize is that you can watch videos on it, spicy videos even. You’ve brought up watching porn together as a method of foreplay, which he enjoyed, but he’s never watched them by himself.

Until now. 

You’re at the market on Nevarro. The Razor Crest is parked on the outskirts of town. Din is completely alone and he’s going to take advantage of that. He picks up the holo-pad and browses through the database of videos. He stops scrolling at a particular one titled, “Naboo Cutie Gets Her Flower Licked by a Mandalorian Daddy”. 

…Flower?

But the word “Mandalorian” in the title also caught his eye. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re not back yet before he clicks on the video. 

It looks like it was filmed somewhere on Naboo, in a random field. The woman is lying down on a blanket in the grass. It’s a sunny day out, her skin shiny and slick with some sort of body oil. The man kneels on the blanket, situating himself by her feet. He’s wearing Mandalorian armor that’s most likely fake. He takes off his helmet and hovers over her face. 

“Let daddy see your flower, princess,” he says.

That sentence sounds sort of awkward to Din but the woman seems to like it, whimpering in response. He makes a mental note of the dirty talk and continues watching. 

The man spreads her legs apart and crouches down so he’s face to face with the woman’s cunt. The camera zooms in on what’s going on and Din is thankful for that. He’s watching this to learn, not for his own pleasure. The man licks her entrance, running his tongue slowly up towards her clit. The woman lets out a long moan, most likely extremely exaggerated. But it doesn’t take long for the man to bury his face in her cunt, his nose grinding against her clit. The man slides two fingers inside her, driving the woman insane. She clearly likes it because soon enough, Din’s bunk is filled with the lewd noises of the woman’s moans and screams, and the absurd slurping noises the man makes. 

…It’s a little much for Din but eventually, he’s tuning out the noises and fantasizing about doing this to you. He’s so into his fantasy that he doesn’t notice you entering the Crest and standing behind him until you place a hand on his shoulder and ask, “What are you watching?”

He startles a bit, his body jolting a little before pausing the video. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” you chuckle.

“It’s okay…” he says, still feeling embarrassed.

“So, what are you watching?”

“Uhh…” He doesn’t finish, instead just handing you the holo-pad so you can see for yourself. 

You take it in your hands and unpause the video. Your eyes widen at what’s happening on the screen. 

“I see. What were you watching this for?”

“I want… I want to do that.”

“Really?” you ask, your lips curling into a suggestive smirk.

“Yes. I want. So badly,” he says, his strained horniness prominent in his voice. 

“Why?”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, turning off the holo-pad and setting it on the shelf behind you, “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you say, starting to undress. 

You toss your clothes into a small pile on the floor and kick off your shoes. Din moves so you can lie down on the bunk. He takes off his helmet to reveal his face, his eyes filled with lust and admiration. His face is still a sight you’re getting used to, always a treat. He wastes no time pressing his lips against your neck, licking and tugging at the soft skin with his teeth. He moves downward, trailing kisses along your collarbone before getting to your breasts. He takes one in his hand and runs his tongue along the other. He takes your nipple in his mouth, moaning as he sucks on it. He only recently took off his helmet in front of you. And ever since then whenever you’re intimate, he has the urge to christen your skin with his mouth in whatever way he can. He’s developed a sort of oral fixation, obsessed with kissing, licking, biting you, marking you up in places only he can see. 

He moves his mouth to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment before moving down your tummy and abdomen. He leaves goosebumps on your skin in the wake of his mouth, finally arriving at your groin. He takes a deep breath once he’s staring directly at your cunt. And that’s when he says, “Daddy’s gonna lick your flower, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh, just a little.

“What?”

“Flower?”

“Is that what I should call it?”

“Just call it what it is. Like pussy or cunt.”

“Okay,” he says shakily before licking a slow stripe up your cunt.

You shiver in response, prompting him to say, “Mmm, you like when daddy eats your pussy?”

“Much better. Ah!” you say, your words getting cut off by a moan he licks your cunt again. 

He licks up and down your entrance before moving to your clit, swirling his tongue around it. For it being his first time doing this, he’s not doing a bad job. The movement of his tongue circles faster and faster around your clit. 

But then he stops for a second much to your dismay. He picks up his head off the cot and tugs off his glove, tossing it on the floor. He brings two fingers to his mouth, moistening them and inserting one inside you slowly. He returns his mouth to your clit and curls his finger against your walls. It feels so good, but you need more. 

“More,” you moan softly. He hums against your cunt, sending a vibration up your core before he adds a second finger. He presses them against your g-spot and sucks on your clit simultaneously, a perfect combination of the two sensations. 

You feel yourself arrive at the edge and you moan out “Din, I’m gonna cum.”

He does falter the flow of his movements, instead picking up the pace. You cum against his face, your release soaking his hand and his chin. Your back arches up off the cot and your limbs are filled with waves of pleasure. 

But once you’re done coming you’re back down on the cot. Din laps up your release, savoring your test before pulling away and looking up at you, his facial hair soaked. 

“That was your first time doing that?” you breathe out, your voice still sort of high-pitched from your orgasm. 

“First time,” he affirms.

“Couldn’t tell,” you sigh. But then you quickly add, “Aside from the dirty talk.”

Can’t resist the opportunity to make fun of him, just a little bit. 

“I’ll get better at that, cyar’ika,” he promises.

“Your turn now?” you ask, moving to sit upright.

But instead, he places a hand on your tummy and gently pushes you back down. 

“Actually, I think I want to stay down here longer… That okay with you?” he says, followed by another lap at your cunt.

“Fine with me,” you sigh. 

[kaelidascope]

On one hand, I'm relieved to see that it isn't just me suffering in the engagement department whereas I used to get flooded with comments and the like every time I dropped something. It isn't the only reason why I've moved from fanfic work to original work, but it is part of it. The last round of engagement on the latest MM chapter was abysmal, and while I know it's not a reflection of my quality in writing, I kept beating myself up over the possibility that I took too long to update it and people gave up on it/forgot/fell out of love with my work because I as a creator was not performing good enough. It drove me into a bit of a depression for a while.

On the other hand, this is making me rethink my stance on never telling my favorite authors how much they have inspired me to take off with my writing career. This is going to get a little lengthy but I want to talk about it so bear with me here.

Closed circles know how much of an insane, unhinged fan I am of certain writers, yet I have never actually said a word to them. I think I left one comment on maybe two fics that went unanswered (which is fine. They're not active in the fandoms I'm in anymore and I'm just some guy out of probably hundreds all saying the same thing. They're not gonna reply to me) but apart from that, you wouldn't catch me dead actually admitting how much the works mean to me. But why?

I guess I was far too proud and too terrified of being let down if I exposed myself like that. Despite the fact that these authors were literal catalysts for borderline impossible feats I have done within the last year, WELL RECEIVED FEATS at that, I swore I'd never tell anyone how inspiring they were for me. (Unless a casual friendship has been established. I have had the tremendous honor to able to talk to some of my inspirations one on one but under incredibly lucky circumstances)

I had a scenario in my head that these were the cool kids, and if you ever got picked on at all for admiring anything, you know damn well you never tell the cool kids about your admiration. I was afraid that they'd take one look at the work that was inspired by theirs and laugh at it in their enclosed circles. I wasn't going to risk having my confidence crushed and lose the motivation to continue working on my projects by being a fan.

I know not all authors do this. Every time someone comes to me and tells me I've inspired them to be a better writer, I literally frame it in a collection of screenshots I have saved on a hard drive. Every. Single. Time. And I know anyone else would tell me that if the person I admire would actually be cruel enough to mock an up and coming writer, then they're not worth admiring. Which I agree with! But try telling that to sensitive little Kaeli that safeguards their interests with the fiery defensiveness of a feral bear on cocaine.

But then I see posts like this, and I put myself in their shoes. I don't know them. They could be a jackass but they could also be like me - someone who bases a lot of motivation for project completion based off of whether or not people even care to see it completed.

This is all a very long, round about away to say that who cares if the author you build a mini-shrine for in your brain thinks your cringe for liking their work? Odds are they probably need to hear that you liked it so much, it inspired you to do something with that feeling. We all need to hear it. They inspired you and now you're making something that will inspire someone else. To be a creator is to share that passion everywhere you go. There's nothing cringe about it.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[ariiadnes]

ㅤ╭ ⿻ ･ beneath the universe ( part ii. )

AT THE END AS AT THE START , & THROUGH ALL THE IN-BETWEENS , I LOVE YOU

ଓ.° ・ kaveh ･ dehya ･ cyno ･ ayato ･ diluc. genshin impact. quote cr : amal el-mohtar & max gladstone. repost. each character's parts are limited to 150 words! ・ ・ ・ pt i.

❀ ⋆˚࿔ kaveh

"of all the creations i've made, none can compare to your beauty."

kaveh has always been a romantic, love language born from touch and fervor. you blink, disoriented expression meeting your lover's through the mirror. it is barely morning. you've just woken up, head out of sorts as you brush your teeth. you wouldn't say you're the epitome of beauty at this moment, but he thinks otherwise.

how can someone be so radiant in the most mundane of things? he leans against the doorway, watches as you get ready for the day. you toss a reluctant glance in his direction, but he simply smiles.

"already hitting on me, huh?"

he hums, beckons you closer.

"what can i say? i'm an honest man."

his hands rest on your hips as if that's where they have always belonged and he presses a gentle kiss to your temple in greeting.

"good morning, dearest."

❀ ⋆˚࿔ dehya

"sunshine, you're not blushing, are you?"

dehya is not one to be trifled with, strength and skill in combat unmatched. she is not as intimidating as she lets on, altruism in her nature.

no, dehya isn't one to be messed with, but you do it anyway. with one hand in hers, the other pressed against her cheek, you grin, almost think it might have grown warmer after your words. she has yet to become accustomed to these nicknames, and in truth, she does not think she ever will.

"sunshine? you..."

she sighs, knows this is already defeat. she has fought many battles, none of them this difficult.

"not a fan? should i call you something else?"

she blinks furiously, tries to hide her flustered visage. she clears her throat, fails to maintain eye contact, but squeezes your hand all the more.

"i'll only let you call me that, you know."

❀ ⋆˚࿔ cyno

the first time cyno made you laugh is the most memorable, he decides. his jokes, while quite humorous, often miss the mark, so he vividly recalls that moment, knows it to be one he cherishes ever so dearly.

the flow of time is one that cannot be changed, days gone by as he seeks out those who taunt justice. it is an arduous role, but one he carries with pride.

it's when he finally comes home to you that he feels at ease, heart lightened, and so he is once more reminded that the passage of time is not one to be taken for granted.

"did you know," cyno begins, "that your laughter is one of my favorite things to hear?"

"are you saying that because i laugh at your jokes?"

cyno grins, loves the way you naturally place your hand in his when he reaches out for you.

"maybe."

❀ ⋆˚࿔ ayato

the role as the head of the kamisato clan is seldom easy, ayato's past filled with hardships paving the road to a masterful deception, fabricated smiles shown with ease despite a quiet suffering.

how warm you are, he thinks, so he relaxes in your hold, allows a rare vulnerability in the presence of the one he's sworn devotion to.

"what a special occasion." he comments, wavering between consciousness. "you're hardly this kind to me."

you've always been used to his banter, but there is something dispiriting in his teasing tone, so your fingertips lightly trace circles into his skin, your lips against his forehead in reverie.

"what can i do for you, ayato?"

he leans into your touch, and you know the smile that blossoms on his lips is one of genuine happiness.

"you've done enough. so long as you remain by my side, i could ask for nothing more."

❀ ⋆˚࿔ diluc

diluc does not know when the right moment is for declarations of adoration; although you've already exchanged confessions, it has always been a challenge.

maybe it's the way you weave cecilias into crimson locks, tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear. maybe it's how you smile, look at him wordlessly yet announce your love for him. diluc is uncertain, but he recognizes this feeling that takes over and makes the echoes of a heartbeat terribly known.

it is instinct, the way he draws closer to you when your fingers trace his jawline with utmost reverence. you still at the little space that exists between two lovers, and perhaps the silence is louder than ever.

i love you is spoken in the way diluc kisses you, and in the way he pulls you closer, there is a i love you, i will gladly give all of myself to you.

[foundheavenly]

Masterlist

The temple chambers are dimly lit, with incense burning softly in the background. Sukuna has just returned from his absence, his ominous and overwhelming aura filling the room. He found you lying on the bed, nursing wounds from the recent attack.

You looked up at him and immediately felt this dangerous aura. He stood there, his crimson eyes narrowing, and he let out a low sound almost like a growl. “Who did this to you? Tell me their names, and I’ll ensure they regret drawing breath.”

Letting out a sigh, you tried to sit up but you simply winced at the pain. Your whole fragile body was aching from the wounds. “Sukuna, please, it’s nothing. Just some sorcerers from the capital who thought they could break you by hurting me.”

His fists clenched and his jaw tightened. “Nothing? This is not nothing. You are my wife- my queen. Anyone who lays a hand on you deserves to be erased from existence.”

You looked down, feeling his intense gaze. “I never wanted you to go to such lengths for me. I thought you married me to gain control over my village. I didn’t expect this…this care from you.”

For a moment his intense eyes pierced at you but they softened almost immediately as he kneeled beside you. “Foolish woman. I may have taken you to secure the land, but I stayed because i chose to keep you. Your every breath, your every pain- it’s mine to protect.”

You shivered at his words. Since when your relationship changed at this point?

“I thought I was nothing more than a sacrifice. A mere tool for you.”

He let out a breathy chuckle and reached out, brushing a hand along your bruised cheek. “A sacrifice?” Sukuna said and kept his eyes into yours. “You’re far more than that. You have shown me peace, patience…things i never cared to know. You taught me softness in a world I ruled with terror.” And suddenly his voice dropped to a dangerous tone. “So tell me. Who dared to think they could harm my queen while I was gone?”

“I’m not sure. I guess it was the sorcerers who want you dead. They were chanted something strange- something they thought could sever our bond.”

“As if mere sorcerers like them could sever something I have bound myself to. I will find them, every last one.” He looked at you with an intense gaze. “But first, my love, you will rest. I’ve already sent for the healers. Let them tend to you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise yet you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

He stood up, towering you with his giant height and four arms. His tone was firm yet soft. “Never thank me for protecting what’s mine.”

The healers arrived and bowed deeply to Sukuna before approaching you with a mix of reverence and fear. Under his cold, watchful gaze, they tend to your wounds with the utmost gentleness, knowing full well what would happen if they caused you even a sliver of pain.

A young healer gently cleaned and bandaged your arm. “Please, let us know if anything hurts, my lady. We’ve brought ointments that should ease the wounds.”

The second healer, an older man, turned to Sukuna and nervously looked up. “Master, we’ll be careful. She’ll be well in no time.”

“Good.” He simply said yet it was sharp as a knife. “I don’t want a single mistake. Her pain will be your pain. Understood?”

They nodded in unison.

They world quickly but gently, applying ointments and bandages to your wounds. You winced here and there, but it’s clear they’re doing their best to avoid hurting you. Sukuna’s presence loomed over them, his gaze never leaving you.

After a moment, he spoke. “Once they are finished, rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“You already do too much. I don’t want to burden you…”

He frowned. “Enough. Protecting you is no burden. They will suffer for what they have done. Just focus on healing.”

Once satisfied that the healers have done everything correctly, Sukuna nodded in approval. He turned to you one last time, his gaze lingering. “I’ll be back soon. No one else will dare come near you.”

He left the chambers, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. As he stepped outside, he let his fury settle over him like a cloak. He already knew who orchestrated this attack, and his mind sharpened with a dark satisfaction. Soon, those foolish enough to challenge him- and to harm you- will pay a steep price.

In the shadows of the capital, Sukuna’s aura surged as he moved through the crowded streets, homing in on his targets. He didn’t need to ask for information, the mere presence of his power sent whispers rippling through the city.

“They thought they could hide from me. Cowards.”

He knew exactly where to find them. Tonight, those who dared to touch his precious gem will learn what it means to cross the King of Curses.

[bokettochild]

Am I allowed to ask about your Legend losing magic brainrot or do I need to just wait for more ACAC to come out?

No, I'm always happy to talk about this one!

I've actually had this headcannon for a while now, but it hasn't managed to come up in a story much (mainly because I've yet to post that BoHH chapter) but here's a brief rundown!

Legend had really strong magic as a child (it's implied heavily in the manga)

His adventures helped him temper it and learn to use it in various ways.

The manga imply that this magic is at least partially a gift of the triforce, although I believe all hylians have at least some magic, even if only latent. His royal blood would also contribute in my HC

Legend's magic was at it's peak in his Oracle adventures, where he had literal goddesses at his side most of the time and was frequently called upon to use their instruments as well as some of his own

Legend lost his magic on the way home from Labrynna when he was caught in a magical storm and struck by lightning.

Here's how it works!

A hylian, and any other magic user, has what one would call a 'magical core'. it's not something physical, but it functions as a heart of sorts where magic is involved, and despite not being present in the physical sense, can be felt and voluntarily controlled to certain extents by skilled magic users. All of their magic flows through this core much like our blood cycles through us from our heart, and, much like a heart, it can weaken or grow stronger depending on the health of the mage, the frequency of use, and what level of magic is employed.

Legend's magical core is incredibly strong, but when he was struck by lightning and woke up on Koholint, that changed.

See, in my HC, the Windfish fully intended to bring him there. What he didn't intend to do was essentially disconnect body and soul in order to do so. As far as this HC is concerned, Legend may or may not have technically been dead for the entirety of that adventure, as his 'physical' form on Koholint was created by the Windfish the same as anything else there in order to house his soul while he wandered the island, hence why it all felt so real for him.

Meanwhile, one of two things had to be happening for the Windfish. Either he was (a) trying to repair damage done to the borrowed goddess-child/servant's body, or (b) he had to essentially make a whole new physical shell for Legend's soul when he returned to the waking world because the lightning blast incinerated the original one.

Either take works with this HC, and I use them interchangeably where it suits me >:)

Whichever you use though, one thing stays true regardless; when returning Legend's soul to his body, the Windfish's magic was still incredibly weak from what he'd been through (what with the corruption and dark magic he'd been fighting) so he did a sort of slap-dash job of it (not intentionally).

This results in a sort of disconnect between Legend's actual soul as his physical form, which includes the fact that his soul and magical systems are not connected to each other as they ought to be.

I don't know how many of you have dabbled in electronics, but it's something like if you were able to build a functioning robot, but someone pulled out all the wires and you had to hurriedly reconnect them all again, only to miss one that, while not essential to basic functions, does affect one particular lesser function. The Windfish forgot that proverbial 'wire' when reattaching soul and body.

Legend is not aware of this. Legend is only aware that he had magic before Koholint, and then he didn't when he came back.

However, when he came back, I imagine he had a lot going on initially, and it's all of that which he believes caused him to lose his magic, not the dream itself. See, Legend's return to the waking world had him stranded out at sea with only a bit of driftwood and, while he had his adventurers bag, it likely didn't have any food in it. So, while, being Legend, he probably had a canteen of fresh water at hand, that would only last him so long. Which means, between sun exposure, lack of food and fresh water, and trying to find his way home, by either paddling himself around or using his mer form, he probably had some issues.

Now, I like to say he used the mer form, as it offers him the best advantages, such as not needing to actually use his fresh water supply, as Mer can absorb water from their environment and are able to withstand both salt and fresh water, as well as they have faster propulsion and he wouldn't be directly exposed to the sun.

Maybe he even ran into other mer! Who knows! Since this is my HC though, I like to say he did, but because he tried to sort of travel with them for a while, it did catch attention from above, and in perhaps the worst turn of events possible, the mer school was attacked by pirates and one little hero just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (again) resulting in our lovely vet taking a spear through the tail.

I say the other mer got scared off by the attack and our boy was sort of just stuck in survivor mode for a good while before, eventually, being picked up by Ralph, because I want it :)

Anyways, upon return to Hyrule, he's screwed over from lightning and injuries, and since swimming with a spear through your tail (and the resulting infection) isn't much of an option, yes, that dehydration and sun exposure did come into play regardless. So, in short, Legend was screwed over from the time he made it Hyrule to the start of his next adventure. I say that he had to relearn to walk in that time, and struggled with speaking, although that was likely a result of heavy depression and trauma and less a physical issue.

I don't think Legend really tried using his magic until the following adventure, which, while not canonically his, I like to say is Cadence, but it could be ALBW instead. When he can't access his magic as he used to, he assumes that, like his speech and mobility, it was just something he lost or damaged in his returning home (the mer thing is a curse and thus outside of his control, if you were wondering).

I think he took it pretty hard, naturally. But, being himself, he adapted around it by acquiring magical items of varied sorts that he could use to sort of replicate his old abilities and/or give himself access to new magic.

Now, a magical item is something that is powered by the users magic specifically, sort of latching onto the 'veins' of their magic automatically, so this is actually a great workaround for Legend! While he can't actually find/access his 'core' for himself, a magical item can, and it taps into his magic for him, thus allowing him to employ at least some of his magic.

Now, you can get angsty with this and say that, like with a heart, because Legend himself is not regularly accessing and employing is magic, it sort of causes a build up that could and might be slowly killing him, but that's only if you want the super angsty route >:)

Regardless, what Legend has is, as Wild put it, a magical disability; essentially the equivalent of being crippled (which Legend has already been, technically, although he's recovering still from that too). As far as mortals are concerned, there's no fix for it. His soul would literally have to be removed from his body, again, and then properly re-placed within, which, while possible, he would never go for, because he's an un-trusting little bunny.

This WILL come up in other stories (it'll play a major role in BoHH), but in none of them have I chosen (so far) to restore Legend's magic to the way it's supposed to be. As is, he's sort of jury-rigged himself a solution in the form of what are, in essence, the magical equivalent of adaptive technologies/mobility aides.

The one way this does benefit him, however, is that his magic is shrouded and also much less blaringly obvious to the magically sensitive/adept, which makes hiding his heritage/presence much easier, even if it does make everything esle much harder.

And that's it!

(If you're curious about fics where I've played with this idea before, then the Sicktember 2023 installments Legacies Burden, Deeper Than The Surface, and Footsteps Across History all briefly touch on the magical adaptive technology usage, and To Seek Hyrule's Star plays a little bit with the post-Koholint Legend, although less than I had originally planned when writing it.)

[dykedvonte]

it's so crazy to me that they didn't just have a limited amount of medical supplies, but also just one nurse… what if something had happened to Anya? She almost did get hurt by that broken vent, what would they have done then? There was so much (way too much) responsibility placed on not just Curly, but also on her. You don't even have to wonder what they were supposed to do in the worst case scenario because that question is answered by the game. On the other hand, the ship had a Co-Pilot, yet it needed only one person to disable the autopilot with zero effort basically. Not a single thing was right with that ship, it's giving me a headache thinking about it.

No like the code scanner is so stupid because every thing is so streamlined it’s so easy to bypass safety measures. They really should’ve had two keys or at least require the Captain to have the key at all times. I mean you can argue about what if he loses it but I think it’s safer than leaving it unattended next to the code scanner like needed to unlock it.

All the responsibilities on the Tulpar are designed to be overbearing and barely manageable when I think about it, especially for the people they give it to. Swansea is an old crank impatient man; not only should he not being doing all that work alone on a physical level but clearly he is not the best teacher for an intern like Daisuke. Anya may be a very effective and knowledgeable nurse but she is the only one and without an outside certification. We have no clue if the others have any training so if she got injured/sock we don’t know if she’d even the capabilities to instruct the others especially if their own knowledge was low and someone else was in a worse condition.

Curly has to decide on everything and literally is in control of everything like he has to make their food and shit, unlock emergency resources and its implied he does most of the control in the cockpit between him and Jimmy. Jimmy clearly does know what he’s doing in the cockpit but he is definitely not mentally equipped to handle it alone. There’s such a lack of checks and balances on the ship and within the company it make me so much more angry and confused when I actually think about how much should’ve been fixed that P.E purposely ignored or made that way by design.

It’s like if there was an osha violation list for the Tulpar it’d be so long it might as well be the entire osha code.

[marauders-bs]

james potter is bad at potions and regulus black is bad at transfiguration. there is one solution here

"Holy shit," James said. He couldn't help but laugh, though Regulus elbowed him in the ribs for it. "So, moral of the story?"

"We're both fucking stupid," Regulus answered, staring down at his hands. James knew Regulus excelled in wandless magic, so he'd only taken the Map for their meetup.

"I'm fucking stupid and you're a genius," James corrected. "Well. Guess we'll be here a while, then?"

"Can't believe I'm stuck with you of all people," Regulus muttered, slouching against the door. "The least Dora could've done was tell me."

James turned. "What do you mean, she could've told you?"

"You know Pandora - Rosier - is a Seer, right?" Regulus asked, putting his hand on the doorknob and closing his eyes. "She's one of my best friends, and she has visions a lot. She had one right before she left the boys' dorm, and I'm now convinced that this is what it was."

"Why?" James asked, trying to keep the sincerity out of his voice since he knew Regulus hated it.

"She'd do that to me," Regulus said, very clearly trying to suppress a smile.

James looked away, knowing that Regulus wouldn't want him to see him smile.

"How can you read me like that?"

James turns back towards Regulus, a little quizzical. "What?"

"You knew I didn't want to be looked at," Regulus said. "You stopped looking. It took Ev and Bat years to figure that out and I live with them for most of the year."

"I pay attention."

Regulus raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

-

Not a week after that conversation, Regulus kissed James.

-

Their meetups, which started as innocent study meetings, turned into something else.

-

James was going to graduate soon.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. Reg had been helping him with Potions for more than a year, and he had no idea how he was supposed to exist for a year without his witty commentary on anything that pissed him off.

"Reg," James said, hand whipping out to grab Regulus's arm as he made to leave. "Don't go just yet."

Reg smiled softly as James ran his hand over his arm. "What do you want to tell me?"

James looked into Reg's gray eyes, feeling bleached curls on his face. "I love you."

It was the first time he'd said it to Reg. Usually, James was incredibly lax with those words, once telling a waitress he loved her because she brought him extra syrup at two in the morning. But with Reg, he was special. James wanted the words to be special.

Reg blinked slowly, and James moved in to kiss him, but-

He pulled his face back, grabbing James's hand off of his shoulder and intertwining it with his. "It'll pass."

[sirhamburrger]

let them talk (akaashi x f!reader oneshot) "all i've ever known is how to hold my own and now i want to hold you." ~ hadestown (2006)

divider creds to @saradika-graphics

1.2k || tags/content warnings: royal au, princess!reader, royal advisor!akaashi, reader is bokuto's sister, forbidden romance (royal and a "commoner" fall in love blah blah blah), childhood friends to lovers, bokuroo (romantic) included and accompanying parental/societal homophobia, not beta read, please please tell me if there are any spelling or grammar errors

keiji is as calm and composed as ever as he shuts the door behind him. it feels as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders as you lock eyes with him, your body instantly relaxing. it doesn’t seem to take away the unease sitting in the pit of your stomach, though.

“you requested my presence, my lady?” he asks.

you beckon him over, patting the space next to you on your bed. the mattress dips under his weight, and you feel his eyes skating over your bare shoulders briefly before flicking back up to meet yours.

“would you help me lace up the back of my dress?” you ask.

he nods silently, his fingers deftly pulling, tying, tightening. it’s done in a matter of seconds, and he examines his work one last time before shaking his head and undoing it all. you chuckle at the perfectionist in him—it’s always been a big part of who he is.

“not to complain, my lady, not at all,” he says dryly, “but i’m sure your maids would be much more competent at this than i could ever be.”

“yes, well…” you hesitate for a moment. “i don’t particularly want to see anyone except you right now.”

“oh? and why’s that?” he asks.

you wring your hands. “i’m nervous, keiji,” you admit. “i know, it’s weird. the crown princess of a prosperous kingdom, worried about appearing at her own birthday celebration? but, really…”

despite the grandeur of the festivities, there’s no hiding that they serve only one purpose: to find you a suitable partner before your coronation. your older sisters were married off to the lords and princes of neighboring kingdoms. your brother kotaro has plans to abdicate because the people would rather die than accept his male suitor. it can’t be helped—you’re the youngest of four royal children, yet first in line to the throne. the fact of the matter sits heavy in the atmosphere between the two of you.

you feel keiji still behind you, his hands entangled in the lace of your dress.

“there are many good noblemen and royals waiting for you downstairs,” he murmurs lowly. “prince tooru oikawa, lord ushijima—”

“i don’t want to talk about them right now,” you say tightly.

“what do you want to talk about, then?” he’s tense, uncharacteristically so, as the warmth of his breath washes over your skin.

“will you walk downstairs with me, love? hold my hand?” you ask softly.

the room is silent. you predict he’ll say no, remind you he is in no position to be seen with you. to everyone else, he is merely an advisor—your advisor. he is not worthy.

“please,” you persist. “or is it too much to show you are enamored by me?”

he turns away. you faintly register that your dress is laced up perfectly, and your heart aches.

“what good would it do the kingdom? if they see the crown princess with her advisor… what would happen, then?” he’s standing now, pacing quickly around the room. “the people want a royal suitor of noble blood. an heir of noble blood. you must give them what they want.”

and so your prediction has come true. disdain for bone-old convention bubbles in your gut.

“i am not just the next ruler, keiji. i am the last resort. i am the failsafe, the backup, the contingency plan.” you turn to him, sure you must look positively wild-eyed now. “i will do however i please, and the people will have to accept it. this is my decree as crown princess.”

the words are freeing as they come out of your mouth.

keiji hasn’t changed since you two were nine. deep gunmetal blue eyes. the crease between his eyebrows that makes him look older than he is. and his inability to refuse you. without a twinge of regret, you take full advantage of it.

“you would not have me married off to a man i despise, would you?” you ask.

“they will not have it,” he tries desperately, one final time. “they will talk.”

“so let them talk.”

keiji freezes, his hand clenching the edge of your bedpost as his composure falters. for a moment, you glimpse the man beneath the stoic mask—the one who has always been by your side, loyal to a fault.

“they’ll do more than talk,” he says hoarsely. “there will be whispers of scandal, unrest. a kingdom is not so easily swayed by declarations of the heart.”

your gaze softens. “and yet, a kingdom is not so easily broken by them either. the people will adjust, keiji. they always do.”

he shakes his head, his lips pressed into a grim line. “it’s not that simple, darling. you deserve stability. you deserve someone who can give you everything—a title, alliances, heirs of unquestionable lineage. what can i give you?”

“yourself,” you say simply, slowly. “that is enough for me. that has always been enough.”

for the first time in years, keiji looks truly vulnerable. his eyes search yours, as if seeking proof of your sincerity. you reach out, placing a hand on his arm, grounding him.

“keiji, you are so much more to me than an advisor,” you choke out, your voice trembling slightly. “if the crown demands that i marry, then i will—on my terms. not for alliances or politics, but for love.”

the word hangs in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you see the crack in his resolve widen, his shoulders sagging under the weight of emotions he’s tried so hard to bury. he steps closer, his hands trembling as they hover near yours.

“and if the people don’t accept it?” he whispers.

“then i will remind them who their queen is,” you reply fiercely. “i will rule with or without their approval, but i will not rule without my heart.”

keiji exhales sharply, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. he closes his eyes, as if steeling himself for the plunge, before taking your hands in his.

“then i will stand by you,” he says at last, his voice low but steady. “as i always have. as i always will.”

relief floods through you, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press your forehead to his. for a moment, the world outside fades away—the expectations, the judgment, the weight of your shared duty.

“walk with me,” you murmur again, your lips brushing against his temple. “please.”

keiji nods, his grip on your hands tightening as if drawing strength from you. together, you step toward the door, your heart thundering in your chest.

when you descend the grand staircase, hand in hand, the room falls into a stunned silence. every noble, lord, and prince turns to watch as you make your entrance—not with a royal suitor, but with the man you chose. your father’s jaw drops. kotaro and his betrothed, tetsuro, smile warmly at the sight. they’ve always known, somehow, that this is how it was meant to end.

keiji glances at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and awe. you squeeze his hand reassuringly, lifting your chin as you meet the curious, scandalized stares of the court.

and you find that you don’t care what they might think, not a single bit.

a/n: just could not wait to post this aughhhhhh!!! he's going to have two birthday oneshots ig 🤷‍♀️blame my impatient self

haikyuu masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[chokisnumber1fan]

reblogging this at 2 am so my thoughts are SUPER incoherent and very offtopic and tangential, sorry about that </3

this is such a good analysis of nagi's possible backstory! and while i haven't read past the BM v MC match yet, to me this gives a lot more depth to the relationship that nagi and reo have. i might be delusional since nagi is one of my favourites and also since i don't know much about the later chapters other than a really vague direction but i think this serves as a good reminder that neither nagi nor reo are inherently 'bad' or take up an antagonistic role— they are just two boys that got too codependent and need some space away from each other to develop on their own.

i see a lot of people jump to antagonising either nagi or reo, or judge their duo as a good/bad one, but imo it's more important to view them from a more neutral lens since this isn't just about football or just about their personal lives outside of it— we can see just how much their 'personal' affects their 'field relationship' and vice versa.

from here on out i'm probably straying from the main point that OP is trying to make, so you've been warned!!!

also, if we were to assume that nagi is indeed one of the neglected to some extent kids— then i believe that chris and agi could truly have done better with how they handled nagi. it's pretty obvious that nagi is heavily dependent on reo, but instead of cutting reo out entirely they could have trained the two of them together in a way that allows them to still play together but not be completely dependent on the other. but then again i can see why this would be a much harder task to pull off because of their respective goals and their feelings towards each other (more specifically, reo's feelings towards nagi) that would definitely get in the way. like, reo is entirely capable of scoring goals on his own but he chooses not to because his main objective has always been to assist nagi— and because of this, nagi's had everything handed to him on a silver platter by reo. their formation served them well in the initial stages of blue lock but it's falling apart now, in major part because it was mostly an emotionally driven formation, which makes it a lot easier to predict especially if you're someone like isagi who knows them and their relationship.

nagi and reo are somewhat unique in that their struggles are against their own inherent natures and pasts and not because of them lacking in some sort of skill or whatever. nagi doesn't have the drive to do anything unless he has a solid goal that he wants to reach— he just won't bother putting in effort it (just like OP mentioned).

reo is willing to give nagi the attention and validation he needs; and while this was fine in the beginning, you could say he's almost starting to smother nagi now— almost mirroring the relationship reo has with his own parents, ironically enough. it's gotten to the point where reo cannot be trusted as a narrator since he let his feelings distort the words that nagi really said to him at the start of the second selection. he projected his worst fears regarding nagi and made them true in his mind. i think that reo has a problem with idolising and devoting himself to people to the point of detriment, especially to himself.

lord help me i have rambled so much about this, honestly i don't think i'm even making any sense right now. i feel like that deranged connect the dots meme man right now. somehow this all links up and makes sense in my head so i hope my disorganised addition to OPs post will somehow telepathically make sense to anyone else reading this too 🙏🙏🙏👍👍

I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.

No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.

You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.

I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:

1. "That's nice."

When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"

You getting me?

Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.

And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.

2. "Don't die ."

So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.

"Want"

That's really what I'm tryna highlight.

It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?

That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.

I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.

I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.

All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.

Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.

[silverjirachi]

saw a post on here that i dont want to be negative on and detract from but it made me realize that yeah. my parents would choose their faith over their child. and have. neither of them said i love you or goodbye the day i came out, after i wrote a big long letter to them explaining more about my gender and bisexuality, in which i compared being trans to the stress of being a moth when everyone expects you to be a butterfly, my father told me i had “better be celibate or else i’d not only be a moth but a dirty one too.”

and it is hard to look past the hurt of this sometimes and realize that it is just cruelty. they are so rigid about god they would rather bring the hammer on their own suffering child than examine their own belief system and admit maybe they were wrong. or at the very least, learn something.

but my mother told me once she was “too old to learn something new” and my father has been very consistent and open about the order of priorities in his life, which he has constantly repeated are “#1 God, #2 Family, #3 Self” but it is of my opinion in being this way to his own child he has actually chosen to put Self before all, because he would rather not violate his own invented priorities than extend empathy for his child. Because in his set of priorities, to do so would violate #1, and to violate this set of priorities harms no one but himself.

but why do I call such priorities invented? Isn’t that the rule we are taught in our faith? Well in my faith I learned that God is imminent within everything. So this hierarchical priority list sets a false expectation of reality that simply doesn’t exist. Why must every situation in life default to this hierarchy? Why must your expression of love be tiered? Why would you rather conform to this tiered and hierarchical structure that suppresses those you love underneath others than understand that each gives equal and unique value and is shifting priority at different times? Not only that, but to venture out of this constructed hierarchy for two seconds to examine other aspects of our faith that say that God is in our words and our actions, and thus by merely holding the intention in your heart with words you say and actions you do you can actually still prioritize him at all times without subjugating others beneath him.

But what do I know? I wasn’t raised by these same staunch Christians or anything. I certainly don’t know that hierarchies of power thrive on fear and that in fact these actions of cruelty to your family and children, in this model, are actually expressions of love. Because if you don’t conform to God’s expectations, then you don’t get into heaven, so anyone who tries to quash any sense of nonconformity out of you is actually looking out for the best interest of your soul. It is hard to explain to someone who has built an entire lifetime on fear of being punished that their actions of cruelty are not expressions of love.

When my parents hit me as a child, this was not an expression of love. This was an expression of power and fear. I had done something wrong that I didn’t know better and from their worldview the only way to “teach” me correctly would be to make me suffer a corporeal punishment. This did nothing but make me fear and distrust them. This did nothing but drive extreme distance between us, and yet my parents would call these expressions of love. Because I was learning the proper way to behave. And not only this, but this understanding of discipline is indeed false, because I work with young children every summer and never once have had to even think about raising a hand to them to get them to understand. These priorities are the same.

Their actions were cruelty. It’s as simple as that. They were disrespectful and unkind, and they drove the final wedge that made me understand that they would rather hang tightly on in fear to the expectations of their own faith than share joy with me at my hypothetical gay wedding. And why would I do them the disservice of inviting them to such an event, an event that may ask them to compromise their own values, when I already know what path they have chosen? Perhaps the expression of love to them, then, is keeping them away. But I do wonder if they’d still feel this way if they weren’t invited to my wedding.

When I was 18 and going into college my mom told me that “my beliefs were very strong, and to never do anything that compromised my values.” And I never have. I never have.

[artofkhaos404]

what are your villain!todoroki headcanons 👀

Thanks for the ask, man! I got a few...

× Sometime before Shoto decides he wants to go to UA, imagine Dabi leaving an anonymous note for him, asking to meet alone, and on the note are some details listed about Shoto's abusive childhood that no one could have possibly known unless they lived in the Todoroki household. That's a mystery Shoto can't resist solving, so he meets up with him. Dabi reveals his identity as Touya Todoroki and explains to Shoto why he's doing what he's doing- to reveal the truth of Endeavor's evil deeds to the world. Dabi offers Shoto an opportunity to help in this plot, or if nothing else, a way out of his abusive household; coming to live with his brother. Maybe Shoto has to take some time to think about it, but eventually, he makes the decision secretly run away and move in with Dabi to escape Endeavor- but nothing more. However, the more time he spends hanging around the League and hearing their own horror stories, the more time he spends bonding with his brother and experiencing new things with him he was never allowed to before, Todoroki begins to realize just how much damage has been done unto him by his parents. As time goes on, he begins to see their perspective and understand their plight intimately. He grows to hate commercialized heroism in general; because if someone as terrible as Endeavor can become a hero... what could the other greats be hiding behind their masks? And how much pain could be relieved from victims of fake heroes, such as himself and Dabi, if someone were to stop these "heroes?" Wouldn't that act be heroism; true and unadulterated? Shoto then makes the decision to join his brother in the mission that Stain began before them; to tear corrupted hero society to the ground.

× I don't think Shoto would abandon his morals completely as a villain. He would consider himself more akin to an underground hero that works with villains for a common goal. Most of he and Dabi's arguments would probably revolve around this 😅

× His villain costume would be just as simple and practical as his hero costume. I imagine the same design, but in white and black rather than the dark blue.

× Even when he's old enough to get a place of his own, Shoto decides to stay in Dabi's apartment. Growing up with so many siblings, living alone sounds more lonely than it's worth to him despite his introversion. Dabi and Shoto are both quiet types who enjoy their own spaces, but they also both value the comfort of a presence being in the other room.

× I could see Shoto taking in a stray cat, maybe one who is injured or blind or missing an ear, and bringing it back to Dabi's apartment. At first, Dabi said it was a waste of time and money and that he should throw the thing out. But after seeing how much comfort the little furball brought Shoto, he stopped complaining about it.

× Dabi would train Shoto to use his left side; insisting on helping his brother get over the fear of being like their father in order for Shoto to realize his full potential.

× Shoto would have trouble getting along with the more impulsive, violent League members such as Shigaraki- Dabi would often end up playing referee (all the while chuckling at the colorful yet painfully accurate insults Shoto would throw).

× Despite this, Shoto can be just as impulsive if you trigger him on the wrong day. Instead of becoming warmer through the series, like in canon, Shoto would become colder and more heartless as time went on. He would never hurt someone for the thrill, but if he feels you need to be brought to justice or if you step to him, he'll do what he feels like.

× And if you hurt a child and he sees it or hears about it? Might as well count yourself dead. Same goes for Dabi. They may be cruel people, but they don't stand for child abuse.

× It wasn't always this way. When they were first reunited, Shoto saw Dabi do unspeakable things- even to children. But gradually, through one another's influence, Shoto became a better villain and Dabi became a better person.

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[bandsofmarv]

Shadows and secrets

Will you and mattheo give in to the desire?

TW - smut, angst.

The dim light of the library’s enchanted candles cast flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls. You leaned against a bookshelf, your wand clenched tightly in your hand. Across from you stood Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes glittering with a mix of challenge and amusement. You hated that look. You hated him.

And yet, here you were, locked in detention together. Again.

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped, gesturing to the tangle of cursed chains coiled on the floor between you.

Mattheo smirked, leaning lazily against a nearby table. “Clearly. You’ve been standing there for twenty minutes and haven’t done a thing. What’s the plan, genius? Stare at it until it feels guilty?”

“Shut up, Riddle,” you hissed, kneeling down to inspect the chains. You ignored the way his chuckle sent a shiver down your spine.

“Careful,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed before I have the chance to beat you in next week’s duel.”

“You wish,” you muttered, focusing on the runes etched into the metal. They pulsed faintly, whispering promises of mischief and pain. Typical Riddle handiwork. “What’s your deal anyway? Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off brooding in some dark corner?”

Mattheo didn’t answer immediately. When you glanced up, he was watching you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Maybe I like the company,” he said softly, the mocking edge gone from his voice.

Your heart skipped, but you forced yourself to scoff. “Oh, please. You’d drive anyone else insane.”

“Not you, though,” he said, stepping closer. His tone was still light, but there was something searching in his gaze. “You keep up. You fight back.”

“Someone has to keep your ego in check,” you muttered, standing up to face him. He was too close now, the heat of his presence unsettling but not unwelcome.

“You think you know me, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “The big bad Riddle, always scheming, always dangerous.”

You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you?”

His lips quirked into a small, almost predatory smile. “Maybe. But I’m not the only one who likes to play with fire.”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, invading your space entirely. His hand came up, brushing your wand aside and pressing it against the bookshelf behind you. The gesture was deliberate, taunting.

“What are you doing, Riddle?” you asked, your voice coming out steadier than you felt.

“Proving a point,” he said, his gaze dipping to your lips. His breath was warm against your cheek, and suddenly the cursed chains were the furthest thing from your mind.

You should have shoved him away. You should have said something sharp and biting to wipe that smug look off his face. Instead, you found yourself standing frozen, caught in the magnetic pull of his dark, stormy eyes.

“I hate you,” you whispered, though the words lacked conviction.

“Funny,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant—it was rough and desperate, a clash of teeth and tongues as he pressed you firmly against the bookshelf. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying up to grip his shirt as his slid to your waist, pulling you closer. His lips were hot and insistent, stealing the breath from your lungs and setting your skin on fire.

“Mattheo,” you breathed when his mouth left yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His name felt foreign on your tongue, but the way he groaned in response sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his voice rough as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, this time softer, more vulnerable.

His hands tightened on your hips, dragging you against him as if he needed you closer than physically possible. You felt the hard press of him through his trousers, and a thrill shot through you at the realization of just how much he wanted you.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons. “This doesn’t mean I don’t still hate you,” you muttered, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips swollen and his eyes blazing. “Good,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “Hate me all you want, Y/N. Just don’t stop.”

And then he was kissing you again, and you decided that for tonight, you could forget everything else.