#factor here for the foreseeable future

[unidentifiedfuckingthing]

u ask how to learn c or c++ or rust and the only two answers are "go learn javascript or python first you shitty little baby" or "uhhh lol just go to college 🙄"

[saudad3]

Private Photoshoot

Prison Au! Stack x reader Word Count: 1,595 Summary: These letters just ain't cutting it for poor little Stack, who's stuck behind bars for the foreseeable future. Warnings: smutty af, minors dni

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Anticipation.

The gnawing feeling that filled many of your Wednesday afternoons since your beau, Elias “Stack” Moore, was locked behind bars in the Mississippi State Penitentiary just late last year. His crime? Having taken part in transporting various liquors and spirits across state lines, and got caught by a prohibition officer who just couldn’t be bought this time around. 

The length of his sentence? Absolutely too goddamn long.

You didn’t know exactly what kind of business Stack and his twin brother, Smoke, got into in their free time. Stack kept you relatively innocent of many factors of his lifestyle, answering your questions with more questions or slick remarks.  This doesn’t mean you were completely in the dark, though. You weren’t stupid, and he wasn’t exactly great at hiding the pistol he kept in his suit jacket or his bloodied collared shirts. As long as he still came to visit at the end of the day and filled you with pleasure throughout the night, you always kept room for him in your prayers.

But that was then. Now? Aint shit sweet. 

Stack wrote to you every single week. Long, detailed letters on what he’s doing and how he’d rather be doing something much, much sweeter – you. How when he gets out of that damn prison, the first he’ll do is split your legs open and eat your pretty cunt like a damn peach cobbler. Hell, he was ravenous in there. Counting down the seconds it’d take to get back into your arms into that perfect little pussy of yours.

You crossed your legs at the thought of his release date, feeling an immediate ache thrum at your clit. 

In last week's letter, Stack had so graciously let you know that these letters and the photos you were sending were simply not doing enough for him. He was going fucking insane in there. You raised a curious eyebrow, reading over his ever-so messy handwriting.  

You ignored the fire starting in the pit of your stomach as he wrote in the postscript of the letter, “That photograph you sent me in last week's letter just about sent me over the edge. Your pretty ass face and that yellow dress you was wearing got me whirling, girl. I'm starting to hallucinate you in here with me. Take some more photos for me, pretty please?” 

You knew what type of photos Stack was expecting you to send him, causing a deep warmth to creep over your cheeks. 

Your mind trailed off to one particular night when Stack asked to bring out his new hand-held camera that he paid a pretty penny for, to “savor the moment.” You sat in front of him on the bed, the strap of your nightdress slipping off your bare shoulder, exposing the top of your soft breasts. The cold air of your bedroom hardened your nipples below the thin white material. On your face, a soft smile and the innocent eyes that made Stack go weak in the knees. 

Stack sat in the armchair adjacent to your bed and positioned the camera over his eye, snapping a number of photos of you in different positions. 

“Stack, baby, what are these for?” You asked him sweetly, shifting under the camera’s gaze.  Stack placed the expensive camera on the bedside table before getting up and kneeling in front of your closed legs. 

“What’s wrong with wanting to capture my woman?” Stack slipped his rough hands under your nightdress and rubbed devious circles on your soft thighs. “I have the prettiest damn woman right here in front of me, Ima take advantage of the oppurtunity I’ve been given.” Stack chuckled, the glint of his gold fang grill catching the candlelight. “I ain't buy that camera for nothin.”

“Oh, Stack-” you were cut off by your beau hooking his finger into your undergarments, pulling them off at a slow pace. As if on instinct, you parted your thighs to make it a bit easier for him, a blush cascading over your face.

It’s a known fact that Stack hated to waste time. Everything about him was so fast-paced: his cars, his slick tongue, and especially his temper. 

But with you, he loved to take his time. He parted your thighs even wider, giving himself a full view of your beautiful slit, already so wet and ready to be worshipped. He looked up at you from his position between your legs, his signature mischievousness evident in his eyes. He planted wet kisses on the sensitive parts of your thighs, causing them to tremble and ache. 

You let out a small whine, leaning back on your elbows, eyes begging him to start devouring your cunt that got soppier by the second. 

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Stack cooed, taking in all of you. The strap of your nightdress slid lower, exposing your right breast, and you looked at him with such a pathetically needy look on your face. Stack stuck his thumb in his mouth before grabbing your breast with a rough hand, circling your nipple with the cold wetness of his saliva. “I just wanna take you all in.”

“Stack, please~” Another whine left your mouth as you threw your head back, belly filled to the brim with anticipation. 

You didn’t have to ask again before Stack placed a sloppy, wet kiss onto your pussy. A curse left your lips as you felt Stack use his tongue to split you open and run over your folds. After a few seconds of teasing kitten licks, Stack found your hardened clit and latched on relentlessly. Sinful sounds of sucking and slurping fill your bedroom as you arched your back, clinging onto the sheets. 

Stack used his hands to part your thighs even wider, plump lips sucking on your bundle of nerves, nipping every so often. You felt like you were going insane, feeling his tongue work wonders over your sensitive clit. 

“Ohmygo-” you jolted, feeling Stack slip in a single large finger into your entrance, curling and massaging. Stack detached his mouth from your cunt to watch himself pump in and out, seeing your wetness run down his long finger and onto his palm. He flashed a devilish smile at you, his beard soaked with your pleasure. 

You moaned in ecstasy, avoiding his eyes and slipping a hand in his curls, bringing his mouth back to your pleading pussy. He obliged, flicking his tongue over your clit with such a quick pace it made your brain fuzzy. 

“Jesus, Stack~” your moan trailed off, followed by a string of incoherent words and whines. As Stack worked his wonders to get you off, he could feel the head of his cock become sticky with pre-cum in his suit pants. 

“Stack, harder pl-” He planted a firm smack on your ass, working his mouth even harder than before, causing that knot in your stomach to coil so, so tightly. You bucked your hips on his chin, chasing that release you so desperately begged for. 

Stack had one hand repeatedly kissing at your g-spot, his other gripping at your plump ass, all whilst his god-sent tongue lapped mercilessly as your clit, Faster, harder, and sloppier by the second. 

You raised your head to look at how Stack gredily ate your cunt as if it was the last meal he’d ever have on earth. His chocolate eyes made contact with yours before snap-

You bucked your hips before releasing onto your lover’s mouth, ecstasy dripping from your pulsating hole and his glistening chin. Stack gave you a few more soft licks and kisses, allowing you to ride out your high before parting his plump lips from yours with a pop. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm yourself down from experiencing heaven on Stack’s tongue. 

“Look at you,” Stack stood up from between your thighs and began to unbuckle the brown leather belt fastened around his hips. “What a fuckin sight you are.”

You attempted to string a sentence together in response, but gave up very quickly on the matter. You noticed Stack begin to palm himself through his trousers, eyes scanning your ruined body before landing onto your plump, lush lips. His towering, strong figure leaned over you before he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“It’s daddy’s turn now, pretty girl. Can you open up for me again?” 

You used your remaining strength to nod eagerly, allowing Stack to part your legs with his rough, calloused palms and position himself at your entrance. 

– 

Your lewd memories were interrupted by an abrupt knock at your front door, which was followed by a “Good Afternoon, miss. Your mail for the day has arrived!” You straightened your posture, now acutely aware that you were gripping last week’s letter from Stack within your manicured clutch. 

You quickly hurried to the door and opened it to see a boyish mailman, sheepishly holding a stack of envelopes addressed to you in his hand. “Here ya go, miss.” 

You blinked at him before offering him a charming smile and receiving your mail, resisting the urge to shoo him from your porch.  After bidding each other a good day, you ran inside and disregarded every bill and pointless letter sent to you in pursuit of your man.

Finally, you came upon a letter addressed from the Mississippi State Penitentiary and plopped on a couch in your sunroom, a sudden heat taking over your body once more. You just had to know how Stack reacted to the impromptu photoshoot you made especially for him after receiving his letter last week.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Author's Note: This idea came to me in a dream last night. This is the first fanfiction that I've published on Tumblr, so please be kind and tell me how you like it. I really had to put this onto paper, and I need Stack in a biblical sense -- its scary.

[terapsina]

Let's talk books. Sorted in threes by vibes.

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I Support Women's Wrongs (murder, slaughter and body horror galore).

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How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Django Wexler - A woman from Earth is dropped into a magical realm, meant to save the Kingdom from the FoRCes of DaRKneSSss... except, unfortunately that might have been a thousand years worth of time loops ago, so it's rather time to lose one's temper and decide to become the Dark Lord herself.

Main character -> basically Deadpool (measured in sanity, humor and levels of bisexual horniness)).

Someone You Can Build a Nest In ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by John Wiswell - Shesheshen, a shapechanging monster who's rudely interrupted during her hibernation by hunters. Manages to to eat one of them, unfortunately she also gets shot by an arrow and falls off a cliff. On the bright side she meets a lovely human woman she might end up falling in love with so much... she'll want to build a nest in her (it's possible there's some Cultural Differences that need to be worked through).

Hench ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Natalie Zina Walschots - Anna's latest temp job for a villain (because even supervillains need office help) ends with her carelessly injured by a superhero, laid off and with injured mobility for the foreseeable future (because human bodies don't see much difference between getting hit by a truck and getting moved out of way by someone able to pick up a truck). Angry, disillusioned, and looking for some vengeful payback she starts compiling the statistics of exactly how much suffering gets left behind the heroes and in quick order finds a new job working for one of the worst supervillains in the neighborhood.

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Extremely Competent Women Show Up to Fix Everyone's Shit (with a whallop of romance which was actually sweet instead of irritating)

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The Witchwood Knot ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Olivia Atwater - Winifred Hall was invited to the Witchwood Manor under the pretense of being the governess for a very bratty kid, but when said boy suddenly turns into a very quiet and perfectly bland boy overnight it's very obvious her charge has been stolen by faeries (and it might have something to do with the actual reason she's there). Rescue however is complicated by some factors, one, there being something terribly dark and wrong about the house (normal houses don't have screaming faces in the walls), another, the faerie man posing as the manor's butler who would very much like to make her run screaming the way so many servants had before her (unfortunately for him, she's not even half as scared of him as she is the eyes of the father of her charge).

This one's about dealing with past trauma, and otherworldly terrors paling in comparison to mundane monsters, set in a very beautiful and dark and shiver-inducing Victorian time world where the Fair Folk are very real.

(Same world as her Regency Faerie Tales trilogy that Started with Half a Soul but it's not necessary to read that one first to enjoy this one)

Keeper of Enchanted Rooms ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Charlie N. Holmberg - Merritt Fernsby inherits a house only to be immediately taken hostage by what turns out to be a very stubborn and opinionated magical house. Hulda Larkin of the Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms goes there to facilitate the relationship between the house and its new owner.

It's supposed to be a very simple job. Unfortunately there's a third POV character in this book (no, not the Whimbrel House, though I adore that house and *insert here the Rosa Diaz gif about her new puppy and how she would kill everyone in this room and then herself if anything were to happen to that dog*). Anyway, they're a bit... uhhh... let's go with Bad News.

Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Heather Fawcett - As one might expect from the title, Emily (a Cambridge scholar) wants to write the first ever encyclopedia of faeries. And she's brilliant enough to do it, what she's terrible at is people (*insert autistic character alert here*).

Someone else might then say it's lucky that a fellow scholar with a far easier time at charming people has stuck his toes in her reaserch trip into the Hidden Ones... that person however doesn't understand how irritating, frustrating and maddening her academic rival Wendell Bambleby actually is.

What follows is a story filled with winter snows, some terrible fae, some adorable fae, some not-very-secret fae, the goodest of good dogs, and lots and lots of squabbling. It's the best.

-------

Dark and Impactful Stories about Children Who Decide on Their Own Paths

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A Skinful of Shadows ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Frances Hardinge - Kate, an orphan and the illegitimate daughter of some stuffy (and evil) aristocrats runs away because being a bastard doesn't mean she didn't inherit the family magic that allows her to get possessed by the dead.

A dead bear ghost is one thing, a Get Out situation is something else entirely.

A Sorceress Comes to Call ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by T. Kingfisher - Cordelia isn't allowed friends or the privacy of closed doors, and whenever she's done something she shouldn't - a category too unpredictable to guard against - she's not allowed power over her own body.

Because her mother is an evil sorceress (think Regina and Cora... except somehow even worse). An evil sorceress that has found herself a Squire to lure into a marriage.

Hester is an old maid living with her brother, a Squire (well look at them coincidences), when said brother acquires a woman clearly set on his fortune. The plan is only to save her brother, except Hester can't help noticing how the woman's daughter keeps flinching in her mother's presence.

In The Lives of Puppets ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by TJ Klune - A family can be an android inventor, his human son (*homoromantic asexual alert*), a sadistic nurse droid, and a very emotional roomba.

And it can be a very happy family. Until one uncovers and wakes up an android that shares a very Skynet past with one's father, said father gets kidnapped, and one has to go on a journey to get him back.

(A book I like to call Sci-fi Reverse Pinocchio)

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Unraveling an Unjust System (and a hero that - on a scale from occasionally to constantly - hears a disembodied voice directly in their heads okay the connection between these three is a bit of a stretch but they're all great books so shut up)

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Hell for Hire ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Rachel Aaron - 5000 years ago Gilgamesh conquered the heavens, enslaved the demons and made it so that the only road to magic humanity had access, was through him.

Now, however a mercenary team made up of free demons gets hired by a Blackwood witch to protect him (and his familiar, the talking cat named Boston) while he puts down roots (literally) inside the new forest grove he's about to start so that he can stand up against the warlocks after him.

The witch quickly becomes the best client Bex and her crew have ever had (after all, warlocks under the rule of the Eternal King Gilgamesh are slavers of their kind, they are delighted at the chance to kill some).

Vespertine ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Margaret Rogerson - In a world where the veil between the living and the dead has been kinda broken Artemisia (*another autistic character alert*) is training to be a Gray Sister (magic nun).

Until her convent gets attacked by possessed soldiers and she has no choice but to pick up a Saint's Relic containing a malevolent revenant to protect it.

Problem. Only a Vespertine is supposed to do it. Another problem. The only one "alive" who can teach her to be a Vespertine is the revenant. Another another problem. The revenant cannot be trusted and if she loses control to it, the death toll will be counted in cities.

Terminal Alliance ⭐⭐⭐⭐¾ by Jim C. Hines - Post Zombie Apocalypse, where some aliens showed up, sort of cured the zombies and took the (mostly) cured zombies into their military.

Which leads us to Marion Adamopoulos, also known as Mops, the Leutenant in charge of Shipboard Hygene and Sanitation of the Earth Mercenary Corps Ship Pufferfish.

Right up until a bioweapon turns the entire crew except her crew back into zombies. Congratulations, she's the captain now.

(Space Janitors save the universe story).

-------

[3amfanfiction]

Doll Catches a Break (pt 7 of Doll and Darling)

Gaz x you

Simon comes home hurt. Who's going to stitch him up other than Kyle? This is part 7 of the Doll and Darling series.

3k smut, a little bit of gore, dubcon bc reader can't consent, general kidnapping angst, Kyle just can't help himself

18+ MDNI

You heard the door at the top of the stairs unlock sooner than you expected.

The basement was your home away from home when Simon was gone. A length of chain and a working toilet and sink meant you could survive off the MREs he kept stocked for quite a period of time. Your threadbare mattress the only point of comfort in the hostile room.

You hated when he locked you in here.

But your term of imprisonment was much shorter than you anticipated, his heavy-booted tread stalking down the wooden stairs with a steady-paced gait far sooner than expected. He was in black, just as he always was, his shirt looking oddly damp as he hit the bottom of the stairwell.

You didn't say anything, just stayed sat on your mattress as he made his way over to you and gingerly knelt to undo the lock around your ankle.

A wave of scent hit you, carried by the wash of body heat. A heavy, metallic copper scent that coated the back of your tongue and throat. A scent that invoked a thousand memories of his hands on you.

The damp spot on his shirt was blood.

You watched it slowly spread, reaching his bottom hem as he unlocked the padlock keeping the ankle cuff in place. A single drop made its way to your sheets.

"Are you bleeding?"

He didn't bother with a retort, standing and gesturing silently for you to proceed him up the stairs. You thought about pushing it but at the end of the day you weren't sure if you really cared if he were bleeding or not. In fact, you hoped he was. That whoever it was got a good lick in.

Upstairs didn't offer any insight. Still the same drab, dull rooms filled with the minimum of necessities. You watched him stalk to the kitchen and pull a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet. Returning to the living room, he took a seat in his armchair and looked like he had no intention of moving for the foreseeable future.

You watched the slowly spreading stain with fascination. It was definitely bigger than it was when he first came to get you, wasn't it? Saturated more of the fabric stretched across his abdomen? The stain certainly wasn't small and you knew if he were in any color other than black that the vivid red would be startling.

It served him right.

He wasn't shy about making you bleed, it was only fair that he bled too.

You were entranced with each centimeter gained by the viscous liquid. Watching it keenly. Captivated. You wondered if it hurt. If you pressed your fingers against the wound if they would sink in, subsumed by him until you were able to pull them out again. Would his blood look better on your skin than your own?

Another glass of bourbon.

It would be just like him to ignore his wounds until they killed him. Too set in his ways about being the meanest thing in the room. Couldn't let a speck of weakness shine through to be taken advantage of.

You hoped he died.

Hoped his wound was severe enough to require medical attention that wasn't coming. That the blood was a request for help you were all too keen on ignoring. Maybe the blood loss was already affecting his thought process. Turning it molasses-slow and fuzzy, nothing to be concerned about.

You hoped it hurt as he died.

You were tangentially aware of the time passing as you stood in the corner of the room watching him. A slow creeping towards night matching the creeping of the blood. You had never considered yourself particularly bloodthirsty before. Simon changed that.

A third glass. It was too slow.

You remembered reading somewhere that alcohol was a blood thinner. That it reduced the clotting factor. Maybe the bourbon would be your saving grace in all this.

It was taking too long. Your brain spun with scenarios that could cause more damage. Everything from running at him and digging your fingers into his side, ripping his flesh open with your bare hands to angering him, making him chase you and punish you in the hopes it would restart any bleeding that might have slowed.

Anything you could to speed up the process.

You wondered if past you would be ashamed of your thoughts now. How you hoped you'd get to see someone bleed to death right in front of you. It was a there and gone thought. You didn't have time for such softness anymore. Your days were filled with trying to survive whole and sane. A task that you failed more often than not.

You were deep in your plans when there was a knock at the front door. Three controlled raps that echoed out over the television that was playing quietly, tucked into the corner of the room. An old football game on the screen.

With a deep, pained groan Simon stood up and ambled to the entryway. Taking his time and holding himself stiff as if any extra movements would take him out. You watched your chance slip through your fingers. Your one chance to maybe make it out of here, gone before your eyes.

You felt like screaming.

The door opened and the porch light back-lit a man who you were familiar with. The man who had helped you with Charlie's birth. You knew he wasn't a doctor, you remembered him chastising Simon when you were in labor that he knew first aid, not midwifery.

Simon called him Garrick but he had introduced himself to you as Kyle.

"Christ, Ghost, you're dripping all over the floor," he chastised with a wry smile, moving inside as soon as Simon stepped to the side, bag hooked over his shoulder. "Did you keep any of that inside you where it belongs?"

"Shut up, Garrick. I called you to stitch me up, not for a lecture," Simon groaned as he made his way back to his chair, sitting in a controlled motion to not aggravate his wounds.

"Hi, Doll," Kyle crooned at you as he walked past, a wink accompanied his flirty smile as he made his way to Simon, crouching and dropping his bag to the side. He didn't seem to mind your lack of a response. "Okay, let's see what we've got."

He peeled the shirt up and you watched, horrified but rapt at the sight. A jagged, gaping slash marked Simon's abdomen, starting near his bellybutton and extending behind his back. It looked like someone had stuck a knife in at the front and dragged around to the rear. It was nasty and gross and you couldn't help the retching sound you made when it came to light.

You still wished it was worse.

They ignored you heaving like they couldn't even hear it. Simon poured another glass while Kyle cleaned the area and he finished it when Kyle put the first stitch in. By the time Kyle was done the bottle was nearly empty and Simon was as drunk as you ever saw him, a hazy quality to his half-lidded eyes that said he was looking at everything through a thick filter.

You tended to stay out of his way when he got like this. At least as much as you could. You never knew which way the liquor would make him sway. Mean or indifferent—it was the flip of a coin.

The silence that had been pervading the room, broken only by the rustle of clothing and the wet sounds of flesh as it was manipulated, was ended by Simon.

"You can use her tonight," he drawled, pointing your way with the bottle and a tilt of his chin, the remaining liquid sloshing inside with the movement.

You froze. Simon hadn't offered you like this to someone before. Other than John, but that was different. You hadn't been offered as repayment of services before. This made you feel like a cheap whore. A trinket ready to be handed over to the next person. For anyone to do with as they wished.

Is that what would happen to you when he got bored of you? You had always assumed he'd kill you when that time came but now you experienced the terror at the thought this might go on indefinitely until someone eventually lost their control and ended up pushing you too far. It was still death at the end but with untold horrors in the interim.

Seeing your future looming ahead of you made you tremble. It felt like a noose tightening in increments until you it reached its end. No full breath to be had, only coarsely woven fibers strangling you until you choked.

"Thanks, but I was gonna make an early night of it."

A beacon of light and a half sip of air. Maybe there was a god listening to your pleas.

"You'll sleep better with your balls drained." Crass and crude, just like always. You felt yourself frown in distaste at the comment, held tense while you waited with baited breath on Kyle's answer. You kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to see either of their expressions. "I'm going to bed. Use her or don't, I don't care," Simon stated, pouring the last of the bottle into his glass and standing with a quiet groan and making his way back towards the bedroom. You flinched at the slam of his door.

Now that it was just the two of you in the living room you allowed yourself to unclench slightly. If he was going to take Simon up on the offer he already would have, right? Why would he drag it out?

You watched from your spot as he packed up his bags, frozen as if any movement would draw his eye and remind him that you were there. There to be used if he wished.

He didn't say anything as he gathered his stuff and walked to the door—he kept his head bowed, not making eye contact with you or saying anything. You watched him reach for the handle through the corner of your eye. You truly thought he was going to leave only for reality to slam its doors closed, locking you inside once more.

You watched him pause—his hand around the doorknob and bag in his hand—and not step through the doorway. Instead he banged his forehead against the wood with a thud, leaving it resting there. For a moment you had let yourself forget about who held you captive and the people he must associate with. Of course Kyle wasn't going to pass up on free sex. Just like John. Using you as they saw fit.

You couldn't help the way you shifted backwards when he turned. It was instinctual. The hare shifting before the fox. Ready to run, to try and escape.

Only you had no escape. Nowhere to run, nothing to hid behind. Just you and him and he held all the power.

He shut the door and leaned back against it, watching you with distraught eyes. He looked like he was arguing with himself. A fight happening behind his dark eyes.

"I told myself I wouldn't. If he offered, you know," he started talking as if to himself, letting his voice fill the silence. "That I would hold myself back and not think about how pretty you were."

You didn't say anything, watching with building dread as he tried to explain away what he was about to do. You took a half step back when he straightened with a deep breath.

"I guess I'm not as good of a man as what I thought."

His large strides crossed the distance between you startlingly fast. Before you realized it his hand was cradling your head and he was dipping down to press his lips to yours.

You flinched, expecting him to start biting or to wrench your head back with the grip he had but he only held you in place and kissed you. It was soft. Something you hadn't experienced in a while. Something you now shied away from just as much as pain.

He seemed entranced as he kissed you, pulling back to gently nip it your bottom lip, immediately soothing it with his tongue afterwards. It was like he had been building this moment up in his mind and now that it was finally happening he was scared to take too much.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he murmured against your lips, barely separating enough to let the words escape. "The first time I saw you I could barely keep my eyes off you. I wanted you so bad. Wanted to taste. Wanted to touch."

He trailed kisses up behind your ear, nibbling on the delicate skin before sucking it into his mouth, pulling blood to the surface, relishing in your gasp. His hands traced up your hips, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

As the kissing continued you slowly found yourself relaxing into the sensations. It wasn't a hardship with how soft he was being. How much his heated words stoked the fire slowly growing in you belly.

You thought about fighting. Kicking up a great fuss and hoping that it was too much of a headache for him to deal with. But that would just delay the inevitable, wouldn't it? This was going to keep happening. Simon was going to use you as he saw fit and if that placement was as payment, that's what he was going to do.

You were being moved back to the couch before you realized it—Kyle guiding you faultlessly back to the cushions until they pressed into your knees making you collapse. He followed you down shortly.

His hands were everywhere, touching everything. Pressing you into the stained, threadbare couch as he did his best to devour your tongue and map your mouth. His weight kept you pinned. He slid a knee between your splayed thighs—not giving you a chance to press them back together. You couldn't help your gasp as he drove it into your cunt a touch too forcefully in his eagerness.

You raised your hands to his shoulders, attempting to push him back��gain a bit of space to breathe. But he wouldn't let any room be put between you. He pressed into your palms and moved his knee firmly against your cunt, swallowing your whimpers as he went.

You didn't know how he was doing it but he was catching your clit on every dirty grind. You found yourself climbing your peak faster than expected. You were shocked when you were finally allowed to pull back for a breath to find that you had been wildly humping him.

"You're going to cum for me, just like this, baby. And then I'm going to fuck you." He dove back down to continue sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck, being bold about bringing his teeth into play. "Can you do that for me? If I touch you right here?" he murmured, spreading your legs wider giving himself unimpeded access to your covered clit. He slid his hand under the fabric and didn't stop until you yelped.

"There it is."

He played you like a fiddle, strumming your clit with precision and coaxing you higher and higher with each chord. It took you barely no time at all before you were unraveling, muscles pulsing with your release as you came.

You came back to yourself to realize Kyle was stripping you and then himself, all the while babbling apologies, "I'm sorry, baby. Next time. Next time I'll eat you out until you're crying but I have to be inside you. I can't stand it any longer."

He wasted no time in sliding himself in down to the base, chasing your gasped moan with his mouth as if he wanted to taste it from your lips.

Starting with a fervored pace, he thrust into you until you could feel his head knocking against the base of your cervix. A soft muted throb keeping pace and rebuilding the wave that had just crashed.

He spoke through panted breathes, "Christ, how do you feel so good? I've never felt anything like it before."

You weren't able to answer him, too concerned with getting air into your lungs. You felt like you were drowning, subsumed by the pleasure he was forcing down your throat with each thrust of his hips.

"Needed this. Needed you," he grunted into your ear, hot breath washing over the sensitive skin causing a shiver to race down your spine. It was a frenzied affair, the way his pelvis was meeting your own. A loud thwap thwap heard echoing out into the room times to his tempo.

"—Won't let you go. Feels too good," he groaned in your ear causing a wave of goosebumps to cover your skin. By this time you'd wrapped your arms around him and were holding him tightly, chasing your release a second time. You did your best to ignore his heated words he pressed into your skin. They felt a little to close to devotion for your taste.

Or was it obsession?

Neither of you were going to last very long. It was almost a relief when he brought spit-slicked fingers down to your clit. He didn't need to do more than swipe back and forth before you were cumming, locking your heels around his lower back, fingers clawed and grasping at his shoulder.

"Kyle—" you breathed into his mouth.

With a rough moan he followed closely behind, an almost pained expression on his face as he filled you.

The only thing you heard in the quiet aftermath was the panting of your breaths as you both fought to catch them once more.

You figured you were done and started to try and separate when he pressed deeper inside you, still rocking as if he couldn't get enough. As if the thought of stopping was worse than the overstimulation you were both feeling.

"Sorry—sorry," he babbled with the thrusts as if he couldn't stop, as if something was controlling him and compelling his to drive his hips forward just one more time. Only once more. And again.

You were a whimpering, shaky mess by the time he finally pulled back and sat beside you. He looked guilty as he took you in. He flinched as he reached out to touch one of the indentations left from his teeth when he got a bit too excited.

"Sorry baby, I didn't mean to be so rough on you."

You almost laughed. Rough? What you just experienced was the softest fucking you'd had since Simon took you. Maybe before you would've thought it was rough. Teeth and fingers and hips all leaving their own kinds of marks but not now? Now you knew how rough things could really get in the bedroom and what you'd just done don't fall anywhere on that same scale.

You couldn't bring yourself to reassure him so you just smiled weakly as he helped you get redressed, your eyes growing heavy as you cuddled on the couch—Kyle spooning in close behind you.

You felt him kiss your temple as you drifted off, murmuring something too quiet for you to make out as sleep finally took you.

Next

[slightlyconcious]

Written on the Walls ~

2, 225 words

Rick Grimes x reader

WARNING ~ NSFW !! ((smut))

(also A:N-- thank you all for all the love on the other post, I literally have been smiling all week when I get the notifications for the likes!!! it's been making midterms bearable)

Everything that could’ve gone wrong, and led to this predicament, had gone wrong. The run was supposed to be easy– one in and one out. You were supposed to be back by nightfall at the latest, but now the sun was setting and you were stuck in town with dwindling ammo and a shaky grip on your pistol. You did plenty of runs by yourself, but this time had been different, and with the bigger group things had gotten out of control fast. You had run into a huge horde of walkers, appearing out of seemingly thin air and ambushing you in the clinic you were supposed to be scavenging. 

Luckily you and Rick had managed to draw them away from everyone else, letting them escape, but now you were trapped for the foreseeable future. 

“Fuck,” You hear Rick curse under his breath, his head in his hands. He leans heavily against the examination table. Your gaze is stuck on the single window, watching the sun set. The horde’s still circling, distant groans sending shivers down your spine. 

“They should clear out by morning. There’s bound to be another noise,” you point out, trying to lighten the mood. Rick glares your way, and you can feel it even with your back turned. He’s obviously still fuming about the situation. It’s not that you and Rick don’t get along, but both of you are strong willed and often end up putting everyone else first. Both wanting to protect and care for the other members of the group. You try not to step on his toes, not wanting the responsibility of the leader, but you can’t help that you want to look out for the others. 

He always seems pissed with you when you try to be protective, and often end up putting yourself in danger, and you don’t get it. What should he care anyway? You think. It’s his philosophy anyway, he does the same thing. In your opinion, he should be pleased he has someone else who’s willing to step up for the collective. 

“Why’d you have to go and do this anyway?” He snaps

“This is my fault now?” You ask, turning to face him. Rick takes a few steps closer, his breath heavy and rough. 

“No one needs you to play the hero. You’re just gonna get hurt.”

“I can handle myself,” you say. It’s a sore spot. Not feeling respected or valued, but you know deep down you’ve proven yourself competent. You’re one of the best fighters the group has, so, why can’t Rick accept that and let you do your part. You sigh, trying to catch some more compassionate expression in his eyes, but he’s all ice, not warmth.

“You’re gonna get hurt.” He says it again, and this time there’s a vulnerability to his voice. Sounding like he might crack. The setting light is golden on his face. Eyes squinting as he faces the window, stepping a little closer to where you’re standing. 

“Well, someone else might, if I don’t step in!!” Finally you’re getting exasperated with him. 

“I don’t care about that. Don’t you get that?” Rick reaches and grabs on your wrist, fingers closing in tight on you. His tone is low enough that you have to listen extra close to make out what he’s saying, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Me?” You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means by that. Rick closes the gap between you, pressing you firmly against the wall. The look in his eyes is desperate and vulnerable, a tender kind of look that you’ve never seen on his face before. Blue eyes straight in yours, not taking his gaze off you for a second. A slight, “oh,” escapes your lips as you make out the meaning of his expression. 

You’ve thought about this before. What it might feel like to have him look at you like this, but you’d just assumed it would never happen. Thought that the age gap between you was enough of a factor for him to always think of you as like a kid-sister, but here he was with a hopeless expression, burning desire right into your eyes. A blush spreads across your cheeks. Rick’s still angry, but he can’t help but smirking, thinking how cute you look under his touch; blushing. 

“Rick,” you’re not sure how to say it, “I don’t mean to worry you.” 

He tucks his hand under your chin, bringing your face more to level with his, “darling, I know you can handle yourself, but you don’t get it. I can’t function with you around. All I’m thinking about is if you’re safe or not.” 

The pet name burns in your ears, the Southern accent dripping from his words like honey. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and you don’t know how to make any reply, and you just nod. 

“Darling, please say something,” Rick pleads. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask, embarrassed to have to ask the question, but wanting the answer all the same. Rick’s chest is flush with yours, his hand still on your wrist, pressing the back of your forearm into the wall behind you absentmindedly. 

“Of course I do,” is his gruff reply. 

“Then show me.” You say each word fast, not so fast he can’t make it out, but fast enough that you can’t take it back. It hangs in the air, impenetrable and for a moment you worry you’ve gone too far. 

Then he leans in and kisses you. 

His lips are perfect against yours, melting together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. The stubble of his beard is rough and ticklish against your chin. He smells and tastes just how you imagined, solid and manly, like woodsy peppermint soap. It’s intoxicating. You can feel your thoughts disappearing, only focusing on the feel of his tongue slipping past your bottom lip and meeting yours in your mouth. Rick presses you firmly against the wall, and you can feel the hardness in his jeans against you. It sends a jolt of electricity to your core. 

He sucks lightly on your bottom lip, eliciting an involuntary moan from you, and you open your mouth wider to meet his. Rick’s hands have firmly planted themselves on your waist, thumbs digging into the bottoms of your ribs hard until they curl lightly into the top of your waistband. You nod against his lips, hoping he gets the idea, which he does, responding by moving his hand to the button of your jeans and undoing in a fluid motion before his hand slips down the front of your panties. 

The cold air of the exam room has all but been lost on you, dissolved into the heat making its way between you and Rick. His middle two fingers slide between the folds of your heat, one of them circling your clit, before they press their way inside of you. It’s been awhile since you’ve had someone else’s hands on you, and the size difference between how Rick’s fingers feel compared to yours has your head reeling. The knuckles of his fingers sink into you and you can’t help but whimper into his mouth. 

“That’s it darling, how’s that feel?” He murmurs, sucking against the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“Good, so good Rick.” You say, heavy with desire, knees wobbly as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. You clench against him, the grip of you tight enough that it has Rick imagining how you’d respond to having his cock buried inside of you. 

“That’s right, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Rick says, lips grazing your cheek, your nose, your forehead, before finding their way back to your lips. 

You meet his kiss passionately, sucking against his lips hard. His fingers speed up inside of you, meeting that perfect spot inside you. He’s got his pinky and pointer finger resting on the bones of your pelvis, holding him steady. The wide palm of his hand curls up to press your aching clit. The sensitivity is becoming hard to process and you can feel yourself losing it. 

“Please, Rick, I can’t go anymore–” you plead. Rocking against him and shaking under his touch. He can’t believe how pretty you look like this. The usual confident and controlled expression on your face replaced by a dazed, wide-eyed, defenseless expression. He can’t believe it’s him that’s made you feel this way. 

“You can do it, that’s my girl.” His voice against the hollow shell of your eardrum has you spilling over the edge and losing yourself in him. Your grip on his forearms turns white-knuckled as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. His pressure slowly lets up, helping you back to normal, back to the world down here. Your breath takes a second to slow down, heart rate jumping in you. 

“Rick,” you say, a smile playing on your lips. Amazed. That look on his face, loving and sweet, is making you feel better than anything else. He removes his hand from your jeans, the change in movement making you shiver with sensitivity. Without hesitation he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks. His eyes flicker with satisfaction. Never has he imagined something tasting as good as you do and it takes all his control not to just bend you over and bury his face between your legs. 

Now that your head is a little clearer, now that your legs are definitely shaking as you walk, you decide to take a bit of this control back. You step forward, pressing him backwards towards the exam table until he has to fold over back onto it. 

“Let me,” you say, seeing the hesitation he has. Before getting on the table you strip, looking in his eyes the whole time. Slipping your jeans and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them. Pulling your shirt off, saving your bra for him to unclasp. Like a present. You climb carefully onto the table, straddling over his hips. Your tender clit aches against the fabric of his jeans. 

Rick’s hands go straight to the clasp of your bra, ripping it off roughly, desperate to cup your breasts in his palms. He groans at the feeling, “you’re fucking perfect.” 

You bite at your lip, holding back a smile. It’s a little difficult to adjust to get into position, but with his steady hands on your hips you’re able to undo his jeans and slide them down with his boxes until they’re pooling on his legs, behind where you’re straddling. Rick’s cock presses firmly against the curve of your stomach, aching red and twitching at the sight of you all needy and ready for him. 

“You sure about this, baby?” Rick asks, wanting– no, needing your reassurance. 

“I’m sure,” you spit in your palm, stroking him until he’s coated wet enough to slip in. You lift yourself up, guiding him into you inch by inch until you’re sunk to the hilt on his cock. For a moment, your breath is taken away and all you can do is let out a hiss of breath at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“You’re doing so good.” Rick says. Awe painted on his face. One of his hands lands on your stomach, pressing slightly until he can feel himself deep into you. You moan at the contact and can’t help bucking your hips. Rick responds by rolling his hips and thrusting slowly, and deeply in and out of you. The pace of you and Rick lines up as you ride him, rhythms matching and breath meeting in the same air between you. 

“So big, Rick, it’s so much,” and you love the way his gaze fills with something rough and primal when you say it. His pace speeds up, his thumb moving to stroke circles on your clit. You throw your head back, white blurring at the edges of your vision. Tears prick the corners of your eyes. Rick’s groaning under you, holding onto whatever self control he has left. The feeling of you hot and wet around him is better than he could’ve imagined– which he has, he definitely has. 

“Fuck– fuck, so perfect for me,” Rick stutters, lost in the trance of watching where your bodies connect. 

“Rick,” the sweet sound of his name on your lips as the knot snaps inside of you and begin jerking unsteadily in your movements, riding out your second orgasm, it has his head spinning. He waits until you’ve ridden out your orgasm until he lets himself pull out to start to come. He finishes with a moan of your name, delicate and rough all at once in his voice. 

“Shit, sorry,” he chokes out, but before he has a chance to apologize for the mess of your chest he’s about to make, your lips have closed around his cock, pumping out every last drop and letting him finish deep in your throat. “Christ,” Rick groans. 

You lean down to meet his lips once again, tasting each other on the other’s tongue. Maybe this disaster of a supply run wasn’t so unsuccessful after all… you can’t help thinking to yourself as he dives in tighter against you… like he’s already desperate for more and the sun’s barely set.

[lordadmiralfarsight]

Tarrifs, shmariffs, what do ?

Grrrrreeeting my dear Tumblr users, it is I, random economy oriented Tumblr User that was onces convinced his blog was gonna be about ships (and not those on water).

I come to you bringing explanations on tarriffs, what they do, what they bring and what their consequences are, since they are kind of a big topic right now, what with Trump and all. "But Mr. Rando, I already know!" you say, and I believe you, and I am proud of you, but much like in my irl class, not everyone has the same knowledge base, so even if it's a bit tedious for you, we have to cover the topic so everyone is on the same page. Alright ? Swell.

So, what is a tarriff ? A tarriff is a tax levied on importations. AKA, you buy something from out-of-country and get it into the country, you pay the tarriff. Many of you will have seen the memes and viral posts, and will triumphantly point at the part where I say the importer pay the tarriffs. And you are right to do that, it's kind of very important. It's the main point, even.

Why is it the main point ? Easy : if outside stuff cost more, inside stuff better choice. Or, in non-caveman speach : the increase in cost on foreign products and resources will either increase the competitivity of domestic products and resources, or level the playing field. At least that's the idea.

"So", I hear you ask, "are you going to be the Nth user here to tell us that tarriffs are going to fuck the average US citizen over? Because we already know that."

Well, yes, but also know. Also, I'm not sure you have the nuance on the topic, and I do love me some tasty, tasty nuance. And custard. But alas, custard is not the topic of today. Economic nuance is. Now, onto the topic :

The main question to ask here is "what is getting hit by the tarriffs ?" Because the impact will vary a lot depending on what gets hit. To give a simplified framework, there's 3 types of economic goods : raw resources, transformed goods and finished products.

Raw resources are ... raw. Iron ore, lumber, clay, wheat grain, lithium ore, water, dirt, raw oil, you get the idea. Those resources tend to have razor thin profitability margins, because so much is produced.

So, what would be the goal of tarriffs on raw resources ? Well, that would be protecting or developping in-country extraction/production facilities, whether those be mines, farms, fishing fleet or lumber mills.

And that's where a tiny little factor comes into play : economic viability, AKA whether a given activity in a specific region is economically interesting.

Like I said, raw resources tend to have razor thin profitability margins, this means that overwhelmingly, raw resources are extracted in regions that allow lower costs.

Some of those costs can be reduced in costlier economies, like environmental or safety costs, with some good ol' deregulation ... up to a point. Even the notoriously protest-averse USA would face some degree of protests if all safety regulations disappeared and industrial accidents jumped 5000%. Poorer countries tend to be more lax on those regulations, and/or not really enforce them, or both.

On the other hand, there are costs that can't be reduced all that much in a given economy, like the cost of manpower. Due to the cost of living, there's a limit to how low you can go with your offered wages. For instance, offering $12 a day in the USA will yield fuck all in terms of recruitment, but $6 a day in the poorer parts of Africa will cause a flash mob of eager-to-work candidates.

And these are the two big factors of the equation : can the reducible costs be lowered enough that the irreducible costs aren't that much of an issue anymore ? And when the answer is inevitably no, can the tarriffs bridge the gap ? Well, uh ... that's gonna depend a lot. But overall, I would lean more on "no". African iron will be cheaper than US iron every day for the foreseeable future, unless you impose a fucking ungodly amount of tarriffs.

Some resources that cost more will see better results from tarriffs, but far from all. Like, tarriffs on iron, copper, tin, etc ? Bad idea. Tarriffs on helium, lithium or other rarer and costlier resources ? Could protect or help the national production indutry.

In the cases where, even with tarriffs, outside product remain more competitive, there's just going to be an increase in cost down the line, and wealth is just going to exist the country more. In the cases where the inside product becomes more-or-as competitive, then perhaps wealth can remain in the country and help the economy. But, well, we'll get to it later.

Raw resources, done. Two more to go.

Transformed goods (henceforth TG for simplicity) ! They are everywhere and they make up the bulk of international trade. Phone parts ? TGs. Flour ? TG, mostly. Tires ? Eyup, TGs. Radars ? TG. Ink? Oh you bet it's a TG.

So, what would be the aim of tarriffs on TGs? Protecting national industry, giving it room to develop or maybe even forcing multinationals to relocate/create the industry inside the country.

So, TGs are where globalization starts clashing really, really bad with tarriffs. Because you see, with globalization, there's been a global dispatching of production facilities. So you'll have part A that's produced in Italy with resources from Greece, part B that's made in Australia with Indonesian resources, part C that's made in Brazil with stuff from Zambia, etc.

the funky stuff happens when you need to combine parts A and C in a US plant, but then have to send the result over to Mexico to weld part B on top. And then you have to get it back into the US. Double tarrifs, you say? Yepperino, my dear student, double tarrifs. On this incredibly simplified exemple. Imagine what that looks like when there's 3 or 4 more parts involved.

At that point the question is : is it cheaper to pay the tarriff conga line or to just send the US parts of the production line overseas ?

"That sounds like the opposite of the stated goal" you say, with the blazé impassivity of someone that saw it coming a hundred miles away. Yes, yes it does. That's why tarriffs have to be manipulated very, very carefully, especially on transformed goods and intermediate steps of the production process, because it can stack up real fast, real bad.

Sometimes though, paying the tarriff conga line IS the better option, especially for sensitive processes that require a well-trained workforce with in-depth theoretical knowledge of very specific fields and access to training for cutting-edge machines, which is only found in the United Staaaaa ... what do you mean, Europe ?

So yeah, very sensitive, tarriff with care. And in either case, expect cost increases, which WILL be recouped with increased sale prices, leading to a domino effect.

And now, the finished products. The end of the line. The consumer targeted stuff. What you buy online and in shops.

What's the aim of tarriffs here ? Same as before, protect native industry, give it room to develop and force multinationals to relocate the production plant into the country.

At this level, you'll see similar considerations as with the TGs, with one tiny added funky detail : the costs of the two previous steps pile up here. Indeed, the tarriffs on TGs and raw ressources are liable to eat up the profit margins of the finished products, and since profit margins are sacred and must be preserved at all costs, well the simple solution is to simply increase the price of the end product in proportion to the other cost increases. And that means shit costs more for people.

"Well, that's awful" you say, and you are right. But we're getting started. It's time for another trip through early 2000s deviantart, say it with me : INFLATION !!! Except instead of your favourite character being turned into a balloon, we're talking about the content of your wallet losing value. And it's going to hit every industry that has to suffer those tarriffs. At which point the entirety of society faces a dillemma : do we increase salaries accross the board (with the associated widespread price increases) or are we chill with a global reduction in the amount of shit people can buy ?

And that's where it starts getting funky (derogatory, fear inducing), because if enough industries are hit with tarriffs, either choice is bad.

Increase salaries ? You speed up inflation and reduce confidence in your money, making exports admitedly more interesting but imports far less so, and when you are a globalized economy where there are imports everywhere at various levels, it gets spiky really fast.

Going the "tough luck fucko" route ? Well first off, rude, second off : congratulations, you are reducing the overall economic activity in your country, creating unemployment and poverty, reducing confidence in your economy and, if things go really, really poorly, starting a recession (WHOOOOO!!! Who wants to sleep under a bridge ?).

Now, is this a doomer prophecy ? No. No it's not. We have to keep in mind that systems, including economic systems, can adjust their course after starting in a new direction. It's rather unlikely that everything will consistently go bad in the worst way possible. But.

A lot of that is dependant on precision political decision-making, and the person soon-to-be in charge of these decisions in the USA has made it clear that he does not intend to listen to outside opinions or do precision. And considering his last go at it, I believe him. So I'm not optimistic. I don't think the US economy will collapse, that would be absurd, but I don't see the US having a good time either.

It's going to be very, very complicated, and it will depend a LOT on what fields are actually affected, in what proportions, etc.

And keep in mind, I haven't even talked about retaliatory tarriffs (from the people whose products you put tarriffs on). Or political tensions inside the US, that's something I don't feel qualified to talk about. Or the non-economic effects on geopolitics. Or the effects on the global economy.

If I had to make a prediction, I would guess that quite a few production lines will be reorganized to either have long stretches inside the USA or to be entirely divorced from them for as long as possible. Some products may become economically non-viable when it comes to the USA. Some US companies may find themselves no longer economically viable due to reliance on tarriff-affected outside goods and resources. It's hard to guess how large the impact will be, but there WILL be an impact, and most of it will likely be felt by the USA. Because tarriffs aren't paid on expedition, they're paid on reception.

So, as a French, all I can say is : bonne chance.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dan Pfeiffer at The Message Box:

Poring through the aftermath of a brutal defeat, Democrats are now in their worst position in at least 20 years. Republicans have the White House and the Senate and an excellent chance to capture the House. Trump is only the second Republican since 1988 to win the popular vote, and he made huge gains across the country, building a multi-racial working-class coalition.

For many of you, I imagine this is painful to read. Trust me. It is even more painful to write. Most of my career has been spent within the machinery of the Democratic Party. I worked in the White House and Senate leadership. I worked for Democratic governors and other party organizations. It pains me to see the party in this state of disfavor only eight years after Barack Obama left the White House. The coalition that Obama built has crumbled. There are millions of reasons why we are in this position — COVID, inflation, an unpopular President, several political miscalculations, and a failure to adapt to a changed media environment. Ultimately, I am less interested in how we got into this mess than in how we get out of it.

The press continues to second-guess and Monday-morning quarterback various tactical decisions of the Harris campaign. I am also not particularly interested in that debate. Two things can be true at the same time. Kamala Harris ran a great campaign in a brutal political environment under an impossible timeline, and Democrats just got their ass kicked by a failed President and convicted criminal who could have been sentenced to jail if he lost the election. Where Democrats go from here is a conversation that will be an ongoing part of this newsletter in the months to come. There is no singular or simple answer, and many strawman arguments are being offered up on Twitter and cable. The solution is more complex than being more left or centrist or less woke. I don’t have the answers. Like the rest of you, I am still processing what happened on Tuesday. As part of my personal therapy, I wanted to do a bit of brain dump on the road ahead for Democrats as we confront another four years of Trump.

1. Recognize the Scale of the Problem

On one level, Trump’s win isn’t that big. His popular vote margin will end up being lower than Hillary Clinton’s when she lost the Presidency. This was far from a landslide. It looks nothing like Reagan’s victories in 1980 and 1984 or Obama’s win in 2008. But we shouldn’t sugarcoat the size and scope of Trump’s victory. Trump improved on his 2020 performance nearly everywhere in the country and with every type of voter. There was a six-point shift to the right in the country from 2020. Trump did 10 points better in Democratic strongholds like New York, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. He gained ground with men, women, Latinos, Black voters, and voters under 30. If the GOP can maintain that coalition post-Trump, Democrats will have no shot at the White House or the Senate for the foreseeable future. We are in a deep hole, and because of that, it is essential that we contemplate radical solutions about how we communicate, campaign, and govern. Every option should be on the table and every prior should be questioned. Yes, it was a brutal political environment, but this failure was a long time in the making.

2. Understand Why We Keep Losing on the Economy

Post-COVID inflation is the biggest factor in this election. It’s why incumbent parties all over the world have been getting slaughtered in election after election. It’s almost impossible to win an election when, according to the exit polls, 68% of voters rate the economy negatively, 75% say inflation caused them harm, and only 24% of voters say their financial situation is better off than four years ago. But if Democrats just blame inflation for voter distrust on the economy, we will be whistling past the graveyard. Democrats have lost economically-focused voters in every election since 2012. Even in the 2018 and 2022 midterms, which saw huge Democratic gains, we lost the voters who said the economy was their top issue by an average of 36 points!

President Biden passed a bunch of very consequential and popular policies. Yet, his ratings on the economy worsened over time. While I think we should revisit our policy agenda to look for new, bolder ideas that better speak to people’s concerns, this is largely not a policy problem. It’s a brand problem. When you do a blind taste test, our policies are more popular. This is why ballot initiatives like raising the minimum wage and allowing collective bargaining often pass in very Red states where Democrats have no chance of winning elected office. On economic issues, Democrats have a cultural problem; regardless of our policies, voters in the toughest economic situations simply don’t think Democrats care about them, and they haven’t since Barack Obama left office. Republicans have done an excellent job — with some inadvertent help from Democrats — branding our party as the party of elites even though the GOP standard bearer is a wannabe billionaire who offers tax cuts to other billionaires in exchange for campaign contributions. There is little question that we would benefit from more full-throated populism.

3. Close the Communications Chasm

Democrats are losing the information war. Trump and the Republicans are relentlessly communicating their narrative to a wide swath of the electorate, while Democrats are mostly still playing by an old set of rules. The Right is dominating the information space. In the battleground states where Democrats could spend more than a billion dollars communicating to voters on TV and digital platforms, Trump gained three points over his 2020 performance. In the rest of the country, which saw no paid Democratic messaging, Trump gained six points. This means that Democrats got absolutely battered in earned and social media. An average American who just turned on their TV or unlocked their phone or tablet was getting much more pro-Trump and anti-Democratic messaging. This situation is not unique to the Harris campaign. It’s been a problem for Democrats for more than a decade. Democrats cannot reach the wide swath of voters who don’t actively consume political news. According to polling from Data for Progress, here’s the statistics showing how people voted based on the amount they paid attention to political news:

a great deal: Harris +8

a lot: Harris +5

a moderate amount: Trump +1

a little: Trump +8 -

none at all: Trump +15

If you read the New York Times or watch CNN, Democrats know how to reach you. The problem is that we already have those voters. It's very clear that most of Democratic communications is a circular conversation with the people who already agree with us on everything. The rest of the electorate can’t hear us. They are getting no countervailing information to counter the Right Wing caricature of Democrats. Because of Fox News and other Right Wing outlets, Republicans have long had an asymmetric media advantage. However, in recent years, Right Wing messaging has come to dominate non-political online spaces centered on topics like comedy, gaming, gambling, and wellness.

Most Democrats continued running the same communications playbook for the entire Trump era despite massive changes in the media ecosystem. We haven’t incubated our progressive political media enough nor have we been willing to go into the non-political spaces where the most critical segment of voters are getting their info.

Dan Pfeiffer has yet another home run column on how the Democrats can roar back from their shock 2024 losses.

[cottoncandythunderhead]

soulmates

the idea of soulmates or "fated partners" is intriguing to me, heres my theory abt the soulmate mechanics of saiki k ^^

my 1st and main theory is that its related to mikos ability to see compatibility, ppl with the highest or maybe only if its 100% compatibility r considered soulmates. however tho i do believe this in general bc it has the most canon backing i dont actually think this could be the case for saiki and aiura, we never get to see it but i think if wed been shown the compatibility (or chance of success) between these 2 it would be low (u can reference my miko analysis for y i think this) so i think theres more than 1 way for ppl to be fated partners. the idea that this is the only way to be soulmates also contradicts info ill provide below

another theory ppl have had is that ur soulmate is literally ur future partner, and at 1st i thought this was implied when i read the manga bc miko says she was "looking into her own future" when she found her soulmate, however after checking a few translations, this seems to be a mistranslation, she uses the same language as she does for any future or non-future readings. this post would b rlly long if i went into it but i think this theory is completely off the table in saiki and mikos case, it would contradict what we know (abt mikos powers, future not being stagnant, the fact she went out of her way to change the future to find her soulmate which would imply it wasnt in her future b4, and more), but maybe the future isnt entirely off the table as a factor for soulmates in general. i do think its possible considering all her talk of future and fate

canon facts abt soulmates:

-they r hardly mentioned at all. the only mentions of soulmates r: 1) when shes talking abt saiki. 2) chiyo thinks shes shuns soulmate, miko doesnt believe so. 3) in 236, a client asks miko if hell ever get married, miko refers him to "the woman of his dreams", NOT his "fated partner" or "soulmate." its unclear if this woman is his soulmate or if she foresaw something else (im in the middle of a reread so pls correct me if im wrong so i can add to this and on that note lmk if my translations r ever off)

-miko mentions she doesnt believe chiyo is shuns soulmate, but she didnt scry this and her language implies she doesnt know for sure. this means their 2-4% compatibility doesnt actually 100% ensure that they arent soulmates, but it might be what made her think they probably arent. this means compatibility may be linked but not entirely indicative of being soulmates

-miko mentions that she was "rlly feeling it" the day she found her soulmate which may imply its very hard and rare for her to see. she also makes no attempts to get any1 else with their soulmates iirc so it seems unimportant and not guaranteed, its only a desire

-compatibility, which may be linked to soulmates, is also referred to as "chance of success", which may or may not be an interchangeable term

so with all that in mind heres my theories for all the ways ppl can be considered fated partners:

-highest/100% compatibility

-your ideal/dream person (i think this 1 may be possible to be unreciprocated or possibly u have to be each others dream person with ur ideals, morals, and plans for the future lining up)

-the person u get with in several possible timelines or in the foreseeable future

-the best future that can be foreseen is 1 where u r together

i also dont think miko can conciously choose or see which "type" of soulmate shes seeing

we also have to consider that compatibility and the future BOTH canonically change pretty easily and altho that concept interests me in the context of soulmates, its rlly hard to consider that here in a way that doesnt stretch too far from theories into just fanon and where soulmates would still mean anything at all, so ill table that for now but the idea that soulmates can be changed is very intriguing and i think its pretty likely when i consider how all of mikos seen powers work

now specifically for saiki and miko: i think theyre some form of the last 1. i think fate brings them together bc every future where they dont meet is a bad future, at least for saiki. this is bc i believe kusuo could never have stopped the volcanic eruption, or at least that it wouldve taken him many more years to do so without miko. therefore each future where theyre happiest is 1 where theyre connected in some way

[adiluv-moved]

❥ SEER + HOMEMAKER SPOUSE HCS. ˚⊹꒷

🍞୧・꒰word count꒱ 1230.

🌼୧・꒰warnings꒱ takes place pre-manor, possibly ooc.

🍮୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! these were originally supposed to be combined into one post, though i decided to split them since they ended up full length regardless, lol. i had a lot of fun writing this, i think it's a super adorable scenario! hope you enjoy! ꒰ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ꒱

you can find naib's version here!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli is honestly such a huge softie, and—in my honest opinion—would be one of the more doting husbands out of the entirety of the Identity V cast. He absolutely adores you, a sentiment that he’s never hesitated to make known ꒰whether it be to you or anybody within a five mile radius꒱, and you just can’t help but adore him all the same. The poor man was probably even scouring his visions to try and figure out what married life would be like before the wedding, if it gives you any sort of insight into how in love with you he is. And, since he did go through with it, I think it’s safe to say that he enjoyed what he saw!

꒰🦉꒱・I believe that Eli would also be the type to enjoy living in a cottage outside of the city, though not exactly for the same reasons that Naib may prefer to. Of course, while some of his motivation does relate to his desire to give you a space to decorate to your heart's content—he just loves how cute your personal style is—he’s also… just a big fan of how cozy and quaint it is. The city has its charms, of course, though he’d much rather live more peacefully beside you, away from the ‘rise and grind’ lifestyle. Even still, I’d say that your cottage would probably be quite close to the city, as it would be far more convenient for the both of you.

꒰🦉꒱・For the most part, although he does enjoy keeping your company, he fully trusts you to take care of yourself, seeing no need to try and restrict your personal freedoms. You’re your own person, after all. I don’t exactly see him as the type to become jealous ꒰that easily꒱ or overly worrisome, so he’s very much alright with letting you do whatever you’d like to—just as long as the two of you communicate with each other. His abilities as a seer, which he’d been open about with you since the beginning of your relationship, provide an extra sense of protection—even if he’s unable to tell you about the future that he foresees.

꒰🦉꒱・Although he’s forbidden to inform anybody about the events that he foresees within his visions, he’s come to realize that he can still take steps to act against it. After all, what he sees references a possible future—not necessarily the one that’s already set in stone. As such, any and all attempts to sway the outcomes of events are done incredibly precisely and subtly, years of having to keep the details of these prophecies secret giving him an incredible edge. 

꒰🦉꒱・Most of the time, you don’t even know that he’s acting on his foresight, only realizing afterwards whenever he becomes extra cuddly with you. What better way to celebrate the aversion of a potential disaster than snuggling up with your loved one, right? In the case that you do notice, however, it’s quite easy to confirm your suspicions. You love your husband, you really do—but any and all attempts of lying to you are quickly rendered useless by the small expression of guilt that appears on his face. He’s just… not a fan of lying to you, really.

꒰🦉꒱・He walks a very fine line when it comes to his duties as a seer and his duties as Eli, his decisions to counteract any bad omens sometimes already putting him at risk for ‘punishment’—whatever that punishment may be. And while he may not always spare you the full extent of his stakes ꒰he’d hate to scare you, after all꒱, he’s eternally grateful that he was able to meet you somewhere along the journey of his life. Powers be damned—this man is absolutely head over heels for his spouse!

꒰🦉꒱・Eli’s paycheck isn’t quite as large as Naib’s, a combination of factors having to blame for such circumstances. While you might’ve initially assumed that he’d be loaded—believing that he could easily make a fortune on telling people their fortunes—his restrictions keep that from being a viable option. Not to mention that there’s already many self-proclaimed seers running along, though Eli always says that they rely more on smooth-talking their clients than actually using any sort of foresight.

꒰🦉꒱・His preferred method of acquiring money is usually through picking up smaller jobs that interest him—with his visions helping him realize when certain opportunities are better than others. Simple manual labor, or perhaps even acting as a helping hand for somebody in need—he’s a firm believer in helping those that are less fortunate than him, and it’s something that he takes a great amount of pride in. The only downside is that some jobs require him to leave the house for days at a time, though he does his best to get back to you as soon as possible.

꒰🦉꒱・Although the both of you may not be able to shop until your heart’s content ꒰not that I see Eli being much of a big spender, regardless꒱he does quite enjoy saving up money in order to surprise you with gifts. Just like many things within his life, his visions do tend to come in handy for this sort of thing, especially considering that all he needs to do is pick up a gift in order to figure out whether or not you’d enjoy it. Throughout all of the time that you’ve known him—whether it be as friends, lovers, or spouses, there hasn’t been a singular instance of him gifting you something you’ve disliked.

꒰🦉꒱・On the other hand, however, shopping for Eli tends to be a far more strenuous task—though not for the reason that you might expect. You know what to get him, and that he’d really just love anything, so long as you chose it for him out of the goodness of your heart… But you also know that you’ll never be able to keep it a secret from him. It’s a little sad, you think, that he knows what’s beneath the wrapping paper before it’d even been wrapped. He’ll at least try to pretend that he’s oblivious, feeling the gift and making some purposefully incorrect guesses before opening it. It’s a small gesture, but it really means a lot to him.

꒰🦉꒱・A big fan of cuddling, a fact that's remained constant throughout the entirety of your relationship—though I don’t quite see him as having a preference for being the big or little spoon. Truthfully, he’s just happy to be there. Do you want him to hold you? Sure! You won’t even have to let him know when you need to get up, he’s already retracting his arms to let you take care of whatever it is that came up! Do you want to hold him? Absolutely! He’s eagerly walking over to you before the words even leave your mouth!

꒰🦉꒱・And, of course, it’s impossible to leave out Brooke! Although she’d take some time to warm up to you when you’d started dating Eli, she becomes very affectionate once she finally does. She’ll allow you to pet and hold her, even abandoning her post on Eli’s shoulder to come and sit on yours—so long as he’s not going out for the day. She’ll even flutter around and try to help you with any chores, something that you deeply appreciate—though she will steal any food that you’ve cooked. The three of you really are just a happy family! 

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[dalesramblingsblog]

OK, I think it's time to actually commit words to writing and actually stick to them. I have tried several times to write this post, and on several occasions have even managed to do so, but I've never managed to follow through on my stated commitments. For the most part this is because, well, I simply didn't want to, because I knew it would be difficult, but I think I've reached a point where it would be far more difficult not to.

Let me cut to the chase: Dale's Ramblings, on WordPress at least, will be going on indefinite hiatus. There are several factors at play here, from the fact that I simply don't find the average quality of the books at this time to be good enough to make the project as much fun as it has been in the past, to my ongoing university studies, but the main reason is... well, I'm sick.

I have, of course, known this intellectually for a while now. It's been about a year since I actually started to figure things out and realise how profoundly affected I had been by my long COVID. Frankly, the fact that I was able to write as much as I did in 2024 - 252,000 words, let's recall - even in spite of being ill is something of a minor miracle.

And more to the point, I did all that because... well, it was fun. Like, I say it's become less fun, and in an objective sense yeah it probably has; I'd rather be still reading books like The Also People than Kursaal or War of the Daleks. But, like, it was still fun. Tremendous fun. I can't stand books like Kursaal or War, but I look back on those reviews with quite a lot of fondness, and I think I've done some of my absolute best writing over this past year.

But there comes a point where you have to weigh the fun in one hand against the realities of your body in the other, and the fact is that I'm sick. I have, in all likelihood, been pushing myself a mite too hard at times, but I wouldn't have done it if I didn't sincerely get enjoyment out of every syllable. If it stopped being fun, I would have stopped, and I'm lucky enough that Dale's Ramblings has never stopped being fun.

Yet I also realise that I can't keep up this gruelling production schedule forever, chasing arbitrary deadlines for no greater reason than my own neurotic desire for neatness and symmetry.

So, then, a hiatus. We've done them before, but this one still feels harder because I desperately *want* to continue. And I will, some day; I've already committed too much energy to the idea of this project as my weird, sprawling autobiographical magnum opus. As much as it's about charting the Wilderness Years, Dale's Ramblings is just as much about charting the evolution of some scrawny suicidal fourteen-year-old into... well, we still haven't quite figured out an ending just yet.

Consider this a weird blip in our chronology then, a literary caesura, to be followed up on at a later date.

Which leaves us with the Ko-fi, as eagle-eyed readers will have noticed that I've already put up two of the three book reviews for April 1998, thinking as I did that I'd release them in March to coincide with the next anni-VARsary. I won't, obviously, but I will keep them up on the Ko-fi for those who are just dying to get a sneak preview, and you should be getting an additional 9,000 word review of The Hollow Men in the next couple days once I give it the final readthrough. Oh, and I'll probably cover Andrew Cartmel's Swine Fever for free on here as well.

There might be further Ko-fi exclusive early access reviews published in the coming months, but they will not be coming with anything like the current rate of regularity or reliability. I don't know exactly when they'll be going public, I suspect I'll want to hold the entire volume until I finish it so I can write without deadlines looming over me.

Is that greedy of me? Perhaps. But again, I'm sick and, for the foreseeable future at least, unemployed. This is, for now, the only way I pull in any sort of income that I can really call my own. If you can support the Ko-fi at all, even if it's just for one month or it's just a one-time payment, it would be greatly appreciated, but if not, I mean, I'll still be here. Just, y'know, rambling with a little less frequency or structure.

But I think any sense of structure went the way of the dodo when I ditched the dedicated "Positives" and "Negatives" sections of my reviews, really, so I think this was always just going to be my cosmic fate.

[commsroom]

do you have any ideas for what you want for eiffel and hera post-canon?

yes, i do! the answer to that really depends on whether we're talking short term or long term, and what i want vs. what i think will happen is... well, i think they'll be okay. eventually. they'll get there.

i'm firmly in the camp that eiffel gets his memories back (fairly short-term in my mental timeline; given the most likely ways that he could get his memories back, it doesn't make much sense for him to be without them for more than a few months) and that hera gets a body (more complicated, and somewhat more long term), but my reasoning for why i think those things work narratively would be a long post in itself (and i've made multiple posts about those topics already) so i won't get into the why here. just, i think it happens.

the note the finale ends on definitely implies eiffel, hera, and minkowski intend to stick together on earth, and i think minkowski feels a lot of responsibility for them, given everything. so i think they live with her, for the foreseeable future. eiffel's not good at holding down a job, and hera... i think it's important that she gets a chance to try things without fear of failure and to separate her self worth from productivity. eiffel and hera are meant to be minkowski's slacker roommates. hera should be creating unmarketable art.

and the issue of where they live will come up pretty quickly, i think - hera doesn't have any particular attachment to anywhere, except for a desire to see the ocean, but mobility might be a problem. minkowski is a career military woman who's moved around a lot, but her husband worked in DC, so presumably they lived in... probably maryland or virginia? before she accepted the job, and that's a complicating factor if she's choosing who to prioritize. i think eiffel would be pretty adamant about staying in texas so he's at least in the same state as his daughter, even if he can't see her. and as much as i would like for eiffel to be able to be a part of her life again, because i know how much he wants that... i don't think it's very likely. at least not any time soon. and he won't handle that well.

speaking about post-canon wolf 359, i don't tend to get that into potential legal / media circuit stuff because... frankly, i don't think it's that important to what the show is about. i'm sure it will be a scandal, but lots and lots of space-travel-related scandals are going on in that world, and cutter and pryce were very intentionally not the public faces of goddard futuristics. it'll pass. that said, the aspect of that i am interested in is legal personhood - that's going to be a hurdle for hera to be able to live her life, and i think eiffel will worry - even if it isn't totally rational - about whether he'll be able to stay out of prison once no longer legally dead, not knowing exactly what the terms of cutter's arrangement were. being an ex-convict is going to complicate some facets of his life regardless.

there's just a lot of stuff that being on earth is going to bring up for them. and i think they'll be there for each other, obviously - one of the things i like most about their relationship is how much they're able to be a refuge for each other in some objectively horrible situations - but they're both pretty insecure people who feel like everyone is bound to replace them, and earth is going to give hera some serious separation anxiety while she's bound to one location and the others aren't, and those are things they're going to have to work through.

as for what i want for them... well. i think eiffel will give hera a 'promise ring' with a kind of jokey but good natured promise that one day she'll be able to wear it. and she does! but neither of them are sure if that counts as a proposal in retrospect and they dance around it for a while. they get married eventually, and - against her better judgment - minkowski agrees to be both eiffel's best man and hera's maid of honor. and ends up taking on way too much of the wedding planning, even though she said she wouldn't, because they're both super lax about it and it starts stressing her out. she tries to delegate to lovelace, but lovelace just thinks it's all really funny. eiffel gets married in a novelty tuxedo tee and minkowski apologizes to hera, but hera knows the type of guy she's marrying (and isn't concerned about tradition anyway) so it doesn't bother her.

[abboudlawfirm-tucson]

What is an example of consequential damages?

When navigating the complex world of contracts, especially in industries like construction, it’s important to understand the types of damages that may arise during a breach. One term often encountered is "consequential damages." If you’re uncertain about what these damages entail or how they might affect your situation, this article breaks it down for you. We’ll explain what consequential damages are, how they differ from other types of damages, and why they matter.

What Are Consequential Damages?

Consequential damages, also known as indirect or special damages, are losses that don’t result directly from a breach of contract but occur as a consequence of it. These are distinct from actual damages, which cover direct losses. Consequential damages often include broader financial impacts that ripple out from the breach.

For instance, consider a contractor failing to complete a construction project on time. Beyond the immediate costs of completing the project, the project owner might face additional losses like:

Lost Profits: Revenue the project could have generated if completed on schedule.

Increased Financing Costs: Higher interest payments due to extended project timelines.

Mitigation Expenses: Costs incurred to minimize the effects of the delay.

Examples of Consequential Damages

Here’s a practical example to help you better understand the concept:

The Restaurant Project

Imagine a contractor hired to build a restaurant with a completion deadline set to coincide with the busy summer season. However, the project is delayed by three months, leading to:

Lost Revenue: The restaurant misses out on summer profits.

Increased Costs: Extra interest payments on loans to fund construction.

Reputation Damage: The delay harms the restaurant’s reputation, potentially reducing future customer trust.

These examples highlight how consequential damages can significantly affect a business’s financial health.

How Do Courts View Consequential Damages?

Courts assess consequential damages based on factors like:

Foreseeability: Were these damages foreseeable when the contract was made? Both parties should have reasonably anticipated such risks.

Mitigation: Did the affected party take reasonable steps to minimize their losses?

Since these factors can vary in interpretation, it’s essential to carefully draft and review contracts to address potential risks.

The Importance of Waiving Consequential Damages

In industries like construction, many contracts include clauses waiving consequential damages to limit financial exposure during a breach. While these clauses can protect parties, they may also lead to disputes if their scope and wording are unclear. Proper legal guidance is crucial to ensure these clauses are effective and fair.

Protect Your Interests

Understanding consequential damages is critical when entering into contracts or managing disputes. These damages can significantly influence financial outcomes, and their interpretation often depends on the specifics of the contract and the circumstances of the breach.

If you’re dealing with a breach of contract or drafting a new agreement, consulting with a knowledgeable attorney is the best way to protect your interests. Contact a Tucson personal injury attorney today to discuss your case and gain clarity on your legal options.

[edensrose]

˚◞❀˳ a proper farewell

god that title sounds dramatic as fuck so let me just clear things up immediately: no, I'm not leaving tumblr, I will still be very manageable to reach and interact. what I am drifting away from is the tolkien fandom — and since this place, despite my hardships, has meant so much to me - I decided to give it a proper little farewell, to the people who made everything count. along with a little explanation for my decision while shedding light on my experience. ( I'll try to be brief )

I joined the tolkien fandom while writing for thranduil, it's here I gained my following in the fanbase and things went quite smoothly. however, upon beginning to write for mairon, then melkor and then later the ainur — I saw an increase in hate anons. something I have experienced before, natural of a multi fandom blog, but never to this degree. initially I assumed it was because I was simply growing larger as a blog, and perhaps that is the reason — but from what I noticed, I was battling with a bunch of chronically online people who simply could not handle my love for. . . "problematic characters"

I never understood it, really. I never saw other ainur blogs getting the hate I did - I guess I'll truly never know. had I done something? was my writing just not good enough? were my vibes off? over the time I've been called things like two faced, fake, a romanticiser of abuse, lazy for not filing out requests, been told I shouldn't write reader inserts, told to kms and other graphic incidents ( such as people sending death threats and actual gore to my inbox ). this branched from burner accounts to anons, and I could just never understand why me. a quick gander at the #clownon tag and you'll find some of the instances in which I've been harassed.

I genuinely thought my writing was the issue.

which demotivated me from writing for quite some time. could I have turned anon off? sure, but that would have meant that the anons I'd frequently interact with would most likely not come around anymore. it meant a decline in requests, it meant just a crippling factor to my blog in general, so I chose to ignore. but it got hard to eventually. I was bullied for liking a god with big wings just because for crying out loud.

I've tried to fake being okay. fake being strong and unwavering about the hate, but I just couldn't anymore. and that's okay.

it wasn't all tears and hardships though. I have made very good friends through the tolkien fandom, many of which I consider close. from @bluezenzennie to @kiatheinsomniac — @a-contemplation-upon-flowers , @cilil , @someoneinthestars and so so many more. it'd take me forever to tag and honestly my heart is squeezing so much listing these few down already. they made fandom fun, whether it was our silly little play fights or collabs or you name it. those of you that have spent time to tell me about your day on anon or send in the nicest of things. I haven't forgotten them, and I cherish them, but it's time for me to go

am I sad? fucking of course. a part of me found so much comfort here and in these characters. I've spent hours on end developing lore for aus or designing aesthetics for writing — just writing and pumping out content or blogs, everything and anything I could do. and while I don't regret those times - the way I've been treated in response hurts. which is why I've made this decision.

I'm growing as a person too. I'm writing a book now, I've got an oc blog to promote that book that I'm working hard on ( @valentine-cafe ) , things are looking good. does this mean I'm just gonna disappear? of course not. I plan on staying around, getting back into request writing ( for other fandoms ) and still interacting and supporting my tolkien moots and friends. will I be writing or creating content for tolkien? probably not. at least not in the foreseeable future. the characters I once loved and cherished have now been ruined for me. I've been made to feel embarrassed for loving manwe and namo to the degree that I have, and I don't see myself being able to write for ainur without thinking of all the shit I've gotten for doing so.

regardless, I'll be here still. and while I might not be your local valarfucker anymore, I hope to be your rose still 🩷 thank you so much for two and a half years, I love you all dearly

[lagoliri]

hi, is me. still working on the game from here!!! haven't made much progress on the game as of late! sorry! unfortunate... yes... so sad.. wanna know why tho?

yes, usual procrastination was a factor, but i've also taken to learning a bit of blender and making some more concept art!!! YAY!!!

okay okay, so ummm... i've decided that the player and all uh "town citizens" will be anthropomorphic ceramic capacitors. First two images are of a "base model" i've been working on for that in blender. I hope that explains why they're so relatively thin z-axis wise

the 3rd and 4th images are of enemy concepts. Sorry for the poor composition, i was scared of not making anything at all.

also, bad news and reason i considered 3D modeling wasted time, i'm not going to use blender AT ALL for my godot game in the foreseeable future. this, while speeding up the point I'll be able to have 3D models for characters in my game, will mean all my characters will have VERY LOW poly counts since their models will be made through code alone. dont worry!!! i know how to do this!!! just hope my creatures will make it out of the process alive. thank you for reading all that!! as a reward, here's some images of inanimate goobers that are currently inspiring the art style for my game!!!

i love these all so much i dont know why.

[irvingthree]

Ooc post but happy one year anniversary to this blog. Twoverse died and it’s not coming back for the foreseeable future because PEOPLE FUCKING RUINED IT (A LOT OF THE FELLOW ROLEPLAYERS HERE I WONT EVENLIE TO YOU BUT HEY THEY DONT USE THE ACCOUNTS ANYMORE) but for as much as me and my friends talk about where it all went wrong in DMs, I did have genuine fun most of the time on here. Some of you anons were funny. Some of the blogs were funny. And it was nice logging on and putting Irving in a situation here and there.

Circling back to the OTHER PEOPLE RUINED IT point, I think I have genuine trauma from running it thanks to certain people and arcs /srs so if you were ever wondering what a contributing factor to this blog and a lot of twoverse crashing out, it’s um. Well part of the pie chart is “Behind The Scenes Insanity”. dawg i aint even gonna lie to you the Wizarro blog was sending porn to minors man I think this place should stay dead

[irontragedyreview]

I wasn't going to write about this chapter but I think there is something very interesting in the way Sir Nighteye's prediction is brought back and how it has been a sword hanging at All Might's throat ever since we as readers discovered it. How Nighteye's quirk works leaves a lot to the interpretation, considering that Izuku was able to escape his fate, we could think that Nighteye's quirk works subjectively, this means that people can affect and modify the probabilities of his visions, but on the other hand we can't detract from the fact that Sir had been with his quirk for decades and that throughout this his visions seem to be set in stone.

The prophecies and visions of the future aren't something new, over time this topic has been touched by books, movies, etc, also its implementation has give different paths, sometimes these visions are written in stone and by more behaviors carried out by people the result is the same, in other cases it's precisely the behaviors of people tending to avoid that future what ends up cementing it, other cases these visions are actually infinite realities that can happen in a multiuniverse, in positive cases the characters with this type of visions manage to change that future. This leaves an open question about how we can interpret Nighteye's vision and if they can twist them. Our first approach to his quirk is All Might, he says that if Toshinori continues on this path his death will be at the hands of a villain, this happens after his confrontation with AFO, where Toshinori is hospitalized and marked with a decrease how he could use his quirk. At this point we can all say that All Might's path isn't the same where the manga began, All Might who fought and beat AFO was determined to continue until his death, he's the man who got up covered in bandages and would seek to continue fulfilling his work as a symbol of peace, at that moment that talk of the possibility of a successor begins, but this happens many years before All Might actually actively accepts passing the OFA.

Toshinori pre Midoriya had no more incentive to live and avoid his destiny than to fulfill his duty as a symbol of peace, although this incentive kept him going, the truth is that having it as his only reason to continue, he was also accepting that his death would be in a fight and he didn't care. It isn't until Kamino during his new confrontation with AFO where he decides for the first time to live beyond that fight. Kamino is the first time that All Might decides not to die because he wants to continue as a teacher and above all to be able to improve as a mentor for Midoriya, he wants to live to scold him. Then we have his conversation with Inko where he promises his life for Midoriya to be surprised when Inko tells him not to give his life but to live for Izuku, in Chisaki arc he tells Izuku that he decided to live for him. Later Toshinori talking to Aizawa tells him that he wants to live, here is an important step because it doesn't include Izuku but his desire comes from himself which is positive, of course Midoriya is an important factor but here Toshinori agrees to live for himself, not for other but because he wants to live.

With that saying, it remains to wonder if the conditions of Nighteye's vision have been altered or if the path that leads to this vision is the one that is being developed at the moment. The questions raised by Nighteye's quirk are: did his quirk already foresee Midoriya's introduction to All Might's life? Was the future that Sir saw in that hospital shaped by the lonely destiny that Toshinori seemed to have decided where he would work until his own death? I think we can all confirm that the All Might after the first victory against AFO isn't the same one who is now peeling off his Hercules armor, this Toshinori seems willing to accept the probability of death but this doesn't mean that he is actively looking for it or is it something that he simply accepts as an immovable fact.

Therefore, this fight is a true unknown, we know that Nighteye's future is possible of change Midoriya is the proof of it, the energy that surrounded Midoriya that day is what twisted the future, so the probability is open to that Toshinori himself, Horikoshi has not given us a specific description of this quirk, the path is open to interpretation and with it Toshinori's life or death, what we know is that Toshi has traveled a long way from the disenchanted hero who saw in another quirkless boy a hope and an opportunity and that at this moment is also answering the question from a long time ago