#Regardless! I must persevere

[tododeku-or-bust]

Back temporarily 👍🏾

[explode-this]

I’m used to being invisible/a thread killer on forums and discords (28 years of the internet and going strong as the forum idiot, baby!), but a brand new one to me is being roundly ignored in the service chat of the queer-affirming church of which I am a tithe-pledging member lmao/sob

[loverofallthingssmart]

ohhh i can feel the entire summer catching up to me

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[common-world-domination]

ALSO trying to draw when your visual memory is practically aphantasic is difficult who knew

[pucksandpower]

DSQ

George Russell x Wolff!Reader

Summary: George was on top of the world … until he wasn’t

Note: I actually had a whole other fic written in honor of George’s win, but yeah, that happened

George slumps in his chair, staring blankly at the wall of his driver’s room. The sting of disappointment and anger courses through him, his victory at the Belgian Grand Prix cruelly snatched away by a technicality. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.

The door creaks open, and you step in quietly, holding a steaming cup of earl grey tea. George’s nostrils flare at the familiar scent, a small comfort in this storm of emotions.

“Hey,” you say softly, approaching him. “I brought you your favorite.”

George looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, reaching for the cup with trembling hands.

You perch on the arm of his chair, your hand finding its way to his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He takes a sip of the tea, closing his eyes briefly. When he opens them, there’s a mix of gratitude and anguish in his gaze. “I just ... I can’t believe this happened. All that work, all that effort, and it’s gone because of 1.5 bloody kilograms.”

You nod, your thumb tracing soothing circles on his shoulder. “I know, love. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” George scoffs, his voice rising. “It’s a bloody joke, that’s what it is! I drove the race of my life out there. I fought for P1, managed those tires like a pro, and now ... now it’s all for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing,” you counter gently. “You still proved yourself out there. Everyone saw what you can do.”

George shakes his head vehemently. “But it doesn’t count, does it? Not officially. I went up on that podium, I held that trophy, I sprayed champagne, and now ...” His voice cracks. “Now I have to give it all back.”

You slide off the arm of the chair and kneel in front of him, taking his free hand in both of yours. “George, look at me.”

He meets your gaze reluctantly, tears threatening to spill over.

“You are an incredible driver,” you say firmly. “One issue that you had no control over doesn’t change that. This wasn’t your fault.”

George’s jaw clenches. “But it was the team’s fault. They should have caught this. They should have fixed it before the race even started.”

You nod, understanding his frustration. “You’re right. They made a mistake, and it cost you. But you can’t change what happened now. All you can do is move forward.”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Move forward? To what? More disappointment? More near misses?”

“To your next victory,” you insist. “Because there will be a next one, schatz. This isn’t the end of your story.”

George’s shoulders sag, the fight seeming to drain out of him. “I just ... I wanted this so badly. For the team, for myself, for ...” He looks at you, his expression softening. “For us.”

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “I know, liebling. And I’m so proud of you, regardless of what the official results say.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “Your father must be furious.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “Vati’s always furious about something. But he knows this wasn’t your fault. He’s far more angry at the team than at you.”

George’s eyes snap open. “Really?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Really. In fact, he was quite impressed with your driving today. Said it was some of the best he’s seen from you.”

A flicker of pride crosses George’s face, but it’s quickly replaced by doubt. “But what if ... what if this is as close as I get? What if I never actually win another race this season?”

“Hey,” you say firmly, making him look at you. “That’s not the George Russell I know talking. The George I know doesn’t give up. He fights. He perseveres. He comes back stronger.”

George swallows hard, his eyes searching yours. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” you say simply. “I’ve seen your determination and your passion. This setback? It’s just fuel for your fire.”

He takes a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. You’re always right.”

You grin, lightening the mood. “Well, Vati always says being right runs in the family.”

That draws a genuine laugh from George, the first since news of the disqualification broke. “God, I love you,” he says, his voice filled with warmth.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. As you pull back, you notice some of the tension has left his shoulders.

“So,” you say, a mischievous glint in your eye. “What can I do to help you feel better?”

George raises an eyebrow, a hint of his usual playfulness returning. “Well, your presence alone is doing wonders, but I’m open to suggestions.”

You stand up slowly, your hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “How about we start with getting rid of this?”

George’s eyes widen. “Here?”

You shrug, a coy smile playing on your lips. “Why not? I think you’ve earned a little rule-breaking today, don’t you?”

He hesitates for a moment, glancing towards the door. “What if someone walks in?”

“Then they’ll get quite a show,” you tease, your fingers toying with the zipper. “Unless you’d rather I stop?”

George’s gaze darkens, his earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten. He reaches out, pulling you onto his lap. “Don’t you dare,” he growls playfully, his hands finding your waist.

As you lean in to kiss him, you can feel some of the day’s tension melting away. You know there will be more challenges ahead, more disappointments to face. But right now, in this moment, you’re determined to remind George of all the good things he has in his life — starting with you.

The kiss deepens, and for a while, the world outside this room ceases to exist. There’s only you and George, finding comfort and strength in each other’s arms, ready to face whatever comes next … together.

[notaplaceofhonour]

as a Jew I find the antisemitic trope of the Wandering Jew endlessly fascinating and there’s a version of it that lives rent free in my head that I can’t get out

because yes, we have been cursed—not by G-d, but by man; not for anything we’ve done, but for libel against us—and the curse antisemites have forced on us is that we must wander forever. we don’t get a home, here or there. we aren’t allowed to put down roots in diaspora, but we aren’t allowed to return either; regardless of which we do, the nations try to drive us out and impose their sentence on us: you must wander some more

there is a deconstructed version of the Wandering Jew that I want to reclaim, not as a testament to our sin but as a witness to the nations’, how they’ve treated the wanderer in their midst. on some level, a witness to how the nations treat all wanderers: Jew, Roma, bedouin. but ultimately, a testament to the libel & persecution we as Jews have endured & persevere through

this Wandering Jew is a weary old immortal forced to wander by hatred that goes before him through the nations, who has seen those nations come and go, empires rise and fall, and bears witness to our plight through every one, waiting for injustice to be righted so he can finally rest

[whaledenwtf]

Halsin x Druid!Reader - The Forest's Calling

I'm currently HYPERFIXATING on Baldur's Gate 3. This is my love letter to Mount Halsin, the elf I would climb until my limbs fell off. You're welcome (or I'm sorry). Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy!

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Kinky DRUID Forest Sex, Misuse of the Entangle Cantrip (hehe), Size Difference

I tried to keep Halsin in character as much as possible, but there is a significant change when y'all get funky

WORD COUNT: 4691

Nature calls to you, as it always had. The sounds of the forest have always been your favourite. Silvanus' creations had made you feel complete. The moss between your toes, and the swaying of trees; you had never felt so much peace during such perilous times. It's at times like this you are gracious for your god's teachings; nature is chaotic as it is gentle, and things will sort them out- if that is what is determined. This is how you kept such a level head during this adventure. Some of your companions saw your level-headedness as worrisome, but you always remind them that to persevere is in the forest's nature, and so it is in yours.

No good ever came from stressing over obstacles in your life.

"If you could stop thinking about the grass for five seconds, I'd appreciate you listening to me. Tch- tree huggers." Astarion tells you annoyed. You look into his crimson eyes and smirk.

"This tree hugger is your key to freedom. Unless you forgot about the tadpole in your brain." Astarion's eyes widen, before he smirks.

"Keep talking dirty, sweetheart. Might not resist taking a bite~" You chuckle.

"Settle down. Like I told you beforehand, we must seek out the Archdruid Halsin before we continue our journey. Nobody could come close to him in terms of knowledge-" Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"Nobody could come close to the information about the ghaik than us githyanki. You istik entertain such useless ideas." You roll your eyes at her. Before you could speak up, Shadowheart speaks to the githyanki.

"Yes. I'm sure your barbaric race would know much more." She says sarcastically. "I, on the other hand, would much rather any other option besides yours." Before Lae'zel could fight back, Karlach speaks to them both.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss already. Wasting time when we could be slaying goblins and getting closer to being free. Stop fucking around and listen to (Y/N)." You nod your head in appreciation to the tiefling.

"Besides, even if Archdruid Halsin does not know how to help us, he may offer his services regardless. Leaving him with the goblins is a fate worse than death. His ally-ship will be indispensable." This appeases those in the group who were unsure of your leadership.

"Always the cunning one, aren't you sweetheart." Astarion speaks up. You turn your head and wink.

"Let's push forward and assist in any way we can." Wyll speaks up. Gale nods, looking over our group.

"Let's be smart and proactive, we do not want to lose eachother, nor do we want to get caught. We shall stay in hiding for as long as possible. Stealth is the best way forward with our little information we have." Astarion taps your chin.

"I like you like this." You smirk at him before leading the group to the Goblin Camp.

After killing every goblin in the vicinity, you all venture forward to a cage where a bear is roaming.

"A bear. He was probably going to be goblin fodder." Astarion says, smirking.

"Hush. Poor thing was being attacked by these goblins." Karlach speaks to him, bumping her shoulder into Astarions. He gasps, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Careful. I bruise like a peach!" He tells her angrily. She chuckles.

"And you're just as bitter as a rotten tomato-" Astarion bristles. You cut him off.

"Settle down, girls. We have time for play later. Show some respect. That bear is our charge." You unlock the iron gate before walking in alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Gale says worriedly, but you shush him. When the bear makes eye contact with you, you see the gold swirling in his eyes. His mouth opens to show his sharp teeth, a warning.

You bow down infront of the bear, laying a hand out towards his snout.

"Are you sure that's... wise, sweetheart?" Astarion asks, concerned. You ignore him before speaking.

"Archdruid Halsin, it is my absolute honour to stand before you. We have come here to free you from your imprisonment and bring you back to the Emerald Grove. May Silvanus preserve us." Without a beat, the bear transforms into a tall, handsome, elf. Your eyes widen at his stature, but more at his beauty.

"Ah, a fellow druid. Silvanus has certainly looked upon me in favour. Thank you for assisting me." You realize you are still kneeling, at crotch level with the Archdruid. Your eyes flicker to his pelvis, and eyes widen at what you see. You rise to your full height, which makes you eye level with his chest. Your head tilts to look into his eyes, and notice him watching you, with a small smirk. He saw you gazing at him, how embarrassing.

"Of course, Archdruid Halsin." He shakes his head softly, braids swaying with the movement.

"Please, call me Halsin. My savior shouldn't have to call me by such a title." You nod, before looking over your shoulder at your companions. They are all looking at the tall elf in shock.

"He just- he just turned into a man!" Astarion says out loud. You chuckle.

"Yes. My preferred wild shape is a bear." He responds to the shorter elf, not looking away from you, glancing over you in curiousity. You turn back to look at him. Your eyes stay locked while you speak to your party.

"Let us leave. We will bring Halsin back to the Emerald Grove and then we can rest. I want to wash off this gods-awful goblin blood before it stains my armour." Everyone nods at that. They turn to walk out, ready to escort Halsin back. You follow your group, Gale and Wyll leading you all forward.

"Thank you, little flower. I truly appreciate you aiding me." Halsin whispers to you, matching your strides behind the group. Little flower... the nickname made you giddy. You blush softly, the heat reaching to the peaks of your ears.

"I can't leave a fellow druid behind. Especially with what those goblins were doing to you." You shake your head, looking over him and the dried blood that caked him from his wild shape form. He chuckles at your worried gaze.

"Nonetheless, the Oakfather has blessed me with your assistance. I am indebted to you for life." You turn to look at him, his easy smile and warm eyes making you feel something... magical.

"The Oakfather has blessed us many times anew. The air we breathe, the ground we walk upon, the forests. But alas, I did come to release you because we need your assistance-" His eyes widen lightly, before he looks down at you.

"What do you need, little flower?" The way he speaks to you is soft, unconcerned of the questions you will ask him. His caring nature speaks to the softest parts of you.

"I will ask you once we bring you to the Emerald Grove. However, I must warn you-" You stop walking and grab his arm. Holy hells his arms are buff. You must have paused for a moment too long.

"What is wrong?" You shake your head at your own thoughts. You're acting like a toddler, instead of the adult elf you are.

"At the Emerald Grove... Kagha is planning to do the Rite of Thorns, and is releasing all the Tiefling refugees..." Halsin's eyes almost bug out of his head.

"We must stop them! That rite does more harm than good! Those Tieflings... fleeing towards death. It is not right!" You tell him passionately. He takes your hand from off his arm and grips it in both his large hands.

" We will stop them, little one." You nod. He continues to hold your hand.

"The shadow curse has been on my mind for so long, I cannot believe I trusted such a-" He shakes his head, cutting himself off.

"We will continue our trek and once we stop the rite, I will tell you all you need to know." You bite your lip.

"If I could help carry your burdens, I would." He chuckles, a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm sure you would, little flower. Now, let us continue our journey. I appreciate you warning me." He lets go of your hand and waves his hand out, gesturing you to go forward, so you do. You can't help the chill that you feel when his hands release yours.

After stopping the rite, you did speak to Halsin about the tadpoles. He sighs when he says he cannot heal you of your affliction. A shiver of fear goes through your body. If someone as knowledgeable with healing like Halsin cannot heal you, you cannot imagine how to move forward. Its then that he tells you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be the key to assisting you in your journey. You bite your lip worriedly.

"I will continue to assist you. I will follow your party and do what I can. Not only for the cursed lands, but also for you." He says it with such conviction, such passion, you cannot help but feel safe and warmed from his sentiments.

"I feel indebted to you Halsin. Truly." He shakes his head.

"You will be helping me much more than I, you." You smile up at him. He cannot help but be captured by the radiance of your smile. Oakfather preserve him, you are the most beautiful of his creations.

"I will help you with this shadow curse. Take back nature and restore balance. I just hope I don't grow any tentacles in that time." You say humourlessly, your laugh hollow. He grabs your chin with his hand, his thumb stroking the side of your face.

"I promise on all of the Oakfather's creations, I will not let anything happen to you." Your eyes flutter, and you glance down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

"Thank you." You whisper to him. His attention is taken elsewhere, and his hand caresses down your neck before releasing you, and moving to the Tiefling asking for him.

You feel this feral need to have him, to help him. You're attracted to him, and you can tell this will be problematic. Oakfather preserve you.

That night, the Tieflings throw a party for you all. The music is loud, and you can see them enjoying themselves. You look over your companions and see all of them enjoying themselves; albeit in their own ways. While looking over the festivities, you see Halsin standing away, gazing over the festivities and people watching. Your eyes make contact and you blush.

"This wine tastes like goblin piss." Astarion tells you, gagging on the swig he just took. You chuckle at him, breaking eye contact with the handsome druid to look over at the vampire.

"Not your type of red drink?" You ask him flirtedly. He smirks at you and leans into you.

"No, sweetheart. My type of red is standing right next to me, as radiant as ever." His face gets close to your neck and he sniffs you deeply.

"All of a sudden, I am thirsting for something else." He tells you. You chuckle at his advances.

"Are you now?" You flirt back. He smirks down at you.

"You're much more fun to speak to like this, sweetheart. I can't help but want a taste." You giggle at him, before taking the wine from his hand and taking a couple mouthfuls.

"Oh gods it does taste like goblin's piss." You splutter out. He laughs at your turmoil.

"Oh darling, you make me laugh." He tells you. You grin at him.

"Glad my misfortunes bring you joy." He smiles at you, sharp teeth glinting in the campfire's light.

"Mm. The only thing that would bring me more joy in this moment is having a taste of you." His voice lowers to a whisper. You roll your eyes.

"Easy there. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're a bard, singing my praises so I could follow you to your tent for the night." You push his chest gently.

"I'm sure I can make you sing, sweetheart." He tells you, looking at you with a smirk.

"As much fun as we would have, I think you've had enough to drink." You tell him jokingly, waving the bottle of wine in his face. You take another swig, and swallow down the bitterness. You go to walk forward, the alcohol driving you to your destination; Halsin.

"Ah, my little flower! It seems you were having fun." Halsin tells you, smile on his face. The crease between his brows tells you that he'd much rather had been the one sniffing your neck, rather than Astarion. You feel a rush of confidence surge through you, aided by the alcohol in your system.

"I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere." You tell him confidently. He smirks at your words.

"Is that so? Well, I am honoured to have such attentions on me." He tells you in a whisper. You almost whimper at his words, feeling hot. You feel as though molten lava has replaced the blood in your veins, and the heat is centralized at the apex of your thighs. You rub them lightly, which catches the elder druid's attention.

"You could have much more than attentions on you tonight, Master Halsin." Your voice lowers to a whisper, and the effect is immediate. His eyes shine golden and his smile becomes wider, more primal. Just like in the Goblin Camp, it was a warning.

"Is that so, little flower? Are you offering yourself to me?" He asks you gently, taking a step forward. You are now flush with his body, and the carvings on his undershirt graze the peaks of your breasts deliciously, hardening them. You moan quietly, looking up at the gargantuan man through your eyelids.

"I'd like to explore you, Master Halsin. See if those rumours of your... generosity are true." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back. His fingers seem to tighten, digging softly into your skin.

"You seem to enjoy calling me by my honourifics." You hum, smirking at him.

"I'm just calling you by title. You would like to be my master, would you not?" He growls lowly, much like a bear would.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little one." He tells you huskily. You giggle at him.

"The only games I would like to play are with you, Master." In his eyes you can see him having an inner battle. You take the hand on your waist in yours, which snaps him out of his inner turmoil. The alcohol is rushing through you now, your (very little) inhibitions non-existent now. You pull it closer to your face, before taking a thick finger in your mouth and worshipping it. You kiss at the pad of his forefinger before licking it; inevitably taking it into your mouth and sucking on it softly. He watches you entranced, groaning softly as you let go of his finger with a pop. You take his hand in yours, and pull him towards the edge of the camp, leading to the forest. Once you find the small grove in the forest, you let go of his hand, spinning in place and enjoying the silence of nature. He stays at the edge of the tree line, watching you with sharp eyes.

"Little flower-" Halsin says softly. You turn to look at the man with a smile.

"Our worries are for dawn. With the moonlight shining on us, and the trees as our witness, I would like to show you the pleasures of the flesh, as nature intended." He groans loudly now, far enough from the camp that your voices would not carry.

"I'm afraid to lose myself. The beast-" You pull off your nightshirt, exposing your breasts in the moonlight. You then pull off your pants and undergarments in one shot, fully baring yourself to his sight. He inhales deeply, eyes looking at you up and down multiple times. You begin to to dance sensually, your hips seeming to beckon him forward. He takes a couple of uncertain steps.

"Halsin. I am not one so easily afraid of beasts. Let me help you forget your woes for a night." His resolve seems to crumble, and he runs to you, leaving you both chest to chest.

"Little flower, I will devour you-" You moan, pulling his hair to bring him to your lips. His chapped lips touch yours, and it feels as if there is magic flowing through your bodies. His hands find purchase under your thighs, lifting you up into him. Your legs wrap around his waist, and you moan into his mouth. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, persuading you to open your mouth to his. Your tongues find each other, and a battle of dominance begins. You lose easily, his gifted tongue prodding and licking at yours with wanton need. You release each other to inhale deeply. He inhales from his nose and groans.

"I can smell your need, little one." You whimper, looking into his eyes.

"You're overdressed, Master Halsin. Allow me to undress you." He lets you down out of his embrace, and you begin to untuck his sleepshirt out from his pants and over his head. You begin to untie his pants, helping him out of them as well. That's when you notice he is wearing no undergarments, and his cock is thick and long, closer to the length of your forearm. You whimper, falling to your knees and looking up at him.

"You don't need to please me-" You cut him off.

"I want your cock to hit the back of my throat until I am unable to speak." He moans loudly, before your hand grasps him at the shaft.

"The Oakfather blessed me with such a giving partner. I- Oh Silvanus-" You take him in your mouth, licking at the tip. You taste his musk, and he tastes like pine and mint, and something that makes you absolutely feral. Without a care for your own wellbeing, you try to swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and then some. He groans, eyes closing as one hand finding itself locked in your hair and the other forming a fist at his thigh.

"That's right little druid, take Master's cock into the back of your throat." His voice goes down an octave, and you feel a rush of slick leave you. Taking him out of your mouth, you kiss the shaft downward until you take his heavy balls in your mouth and suckle. You're panting with need, moaning into his skin. You let go of him, one hand stroking his cock and the other inching down your body to touch your cunt. He looks down at you then with hooded eyes, and moans again.

"Are you touching your needy cunt, little flower? I cannot wait to fill you with my seed until your entire being is satiated." You moan, needing him back in your mouth. You remove the hand on his shaft and deepthroat him again, only getting two thirds of his member into your mouth. You hear your need, the wet sounds coming from your pussy only arousing you further. He begins to thrust into your mouth and you choke on him. After making sure you were alright, he continues his movements, thrusts getting rougher. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you off his cock, as he growls.

"I will pound your quim until you are unable to walk without my healing, little one." His hands grip your upper arms and lifts you up to stand. Your face is smeared with his precum and your spittle. Once you are stable on your two feet, he kisses you passionately and you moan into him. His hands are touching you everywhere. His touch is searing hot. His hands find themselves at your breasts, rubbing and pinching the peaks of them.

"O-Oh Halsin. Don't stop." He chuckles into your ear.

"I'm not planning to stop until dawn shows itself." You whimper at his words, thrusting your chest deeper into his ministrations. You hear Halsin whisper before your hands are being pulled behind you, tightly grasped. Your feet are also held up, spreading your legs open. You notice that vines grew from the ground and are holding you up like a platter to Halsin.

"As much as I love your touch, little one, I don't want you to push me off when I get a taste of your ambrosia." You moan loudly, almost caterwauling for the elder druid.

His large hands caress up your leg, massaging the skin of your calves, before going higher.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do in this moment, little flower. You're exquisite; truly one of Silvanus' greatest creations." You blush, heaving.

"H-Halsin, please-" He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Don't fret, you will be chanting my name soon enough." His confidence is addicting, you could feel how drenched you were even with your legs spread so far apart. His hands finally reach close to your core, and he spreads your slit further open to look at you. You could feel your hole contracting, as if begging for an intrusion.

"By the gods... Look at your tight cunt begging for my cock. Can't wait to have a taste." You feel his breath on you. You look down and see him watching you, as his hands slide up to your breasts to play with your nipples like he had before. The first stroke of his tongue on your clit sent a sensation of pleasure up your spine. You struggle against your bonds, with an insatiable urge to grasp his hair and tug him deeper into you.

His tongue then ventures lower, tasting your essence. He moans loudly into your body, the vibrations of his moan pleasing you greatly. He continues licking you, tasting you as he tweaks your nipples, tugging before massaging. You felt powerless against the bonds, barely hearing anything more than the rush of blood in your ears.

"Your nectar... is just like honey. I can't wait to have you cum on my tongue multiple times." You moan. You can tell you're already close to your precipice, his words, moans and tongue vibrating and licking against your clit deliciously.

"Please... please Master Halsin-" He groans at the honourific. He plunges his tongue into you, lapping you at your source. His nose nudges your clit and that sets off your orgasm. You feel yourself leak onto him, his tongue cleaning your mess. You're shaking with oversensitivity, but he does not stop. One of the hands on your breast caress back down the length of your body, before he pulls away from your core. He grins up at you as he thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. He curls them, as you begin to shake harder.

"That's it, little one. Let all those in the forest know who is making you feel like this, making you cum and feel pleasure-" His words go straight to your core, and more of your slick leaks around his fingers.

"Halsin-H-Halsin- Oh GODS-" His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking at you. The attention was too much; you cum again. This time, you can feel much more than slick leave your body- did I squirt? You wonder to yourself, as your body is now lashing against the constraints. You didn't have much time to think about it, as he pulls his fingers out to taste you, moaning. You look down at him, panting. He spreads you open again, this time with both hands, before his tongue is back in you, tasting you like you were water and he was a man dehydrated. You whimper, begging him to give you reprieve. He pulls off of you, his mouth and chin covered in your release. He was panting, his eyes glowing a bright amber.

"You have no idea what you unleashed, little one." He growls out. You feel the vines dissipate. You're laid on the forest ground gently. Before he could move, you flip yourself over with enthusiasm, laying your upper body parallel to the floor and your lower body in the air. You wiggle your ass, one of your hands going between your legs and spreading yourself open. You look over your shoulder and look him directly in the eye. He is watching you with wonder, before you speak.

"Breed me, Master Halsin. Empty your seed in me and fuck me into a stupor." He growls, before kneeling behind you.

"I'll make sure you can't walk for weeks, little one. I'll spread you nice and good." You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down your slit, gathering your juices.

"Look how wet you are. Such a good little druid for me." You whimper at his words. Without warning he thrust into you, going to the hilt. His heavy balls hit against your clit, and your mouth goes open in a silent scream. He begins a brutal pace, pounding into you. One of his hands reach around your body, his large hand grasping your neck. His hold is tight, but not painfully so. You feel lightheaded, all your senses being overwhelmed by the Archdruid. You feel as though your floating, the only thing tying you to this plane of existence is the continuous thrusts from the elf behind you. You felt as though you were split open repeatedly, his cock reaching places in you that you were unsure existed before today. He growls as he pounds into you, and you begin to feel claws against your neck, before they retract.

"You make me feral, little one. I'm gonna fill you with my seed, fill you with pups." You moan, breathless. His thrusts begin to falter, but they seem to go deeper. You feel yourself fluttering around him, as you gasp.

"I-I'm close." You whisper to him. He groans.

"I feel you fluttering around me, little one." He chokes out. After a handful of thrusts he cums with a shout, and you constrict around him, cumming once more. You feel his seed in you, so abundant that it leaks out around him. You both pant for a couple seconds. He releases your neck and you gasp an inhale.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks you softly. You shake your head enthusiastically.

"N-no. Oh gods Halsin. I am unsure how I will walk right ever again." You tell him breathlessly. He chuckles at that, caressing your back and thighs with gentleness. You feel him slowly pull out of you, taking care to not punish your core anymore. You whimper at the loss, feeling your mixed spend leaking out of you. He flips you over softly, wanting to look you over. His hand goes to finger you lazily. You shriek, body seizing up.

"Not a drop goes to waste." He tells you huskily. After a couple moments, he pulls his fingers out too, and directs them to your mouth. You suckle on the digits, the taste arousing you once more. You both look into each other's eyes as you did this. Once he removes his fingers from your mouth, his lips replace it, tasting both of you on his tongue. He groans into your lips. You kiss for a couple moments, before you both need to separate so you could inhale. You felt utterly spent. He goes to lie down next to you, and your eyes follow him.

His hands begin to massage your sore muscles, before pulling you onto him. You felt utterly spent. He holds you into a lover's embrace and you can't help but sigh into his chest, caressing his pectorals and cuddling into him. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a trail soft pecks and kisses. You both lay there, absorbing the beauty of nature and speaking about your lives before the parasite and the shadow curse until the sun rose.

END

[sapphirerogers]

What if we start a petition (aka protest/movement/pressure building) for Marvel to release the Stevebucky scene from CATWS?

We know that scene in the Quinjet had been filmed. Chris mentioned it. All we need to do is pressurise @marvelentertainment enough. They've got to listen at some point, if we keep insisting strongly enough and for long enough.

If released, it may not undo the atrocity that Endgame was, but it will provide much needed to these two characters and their dynamic after being reunited.

If it is still not released, we will still have made a statement - that we're still an active and thriving fandom and we can come together when needed for a good cause, to do the things one or two of us can't alone.

I know it looks hopeless, and I don't blame you for losing faith. But believe it or not, each of us Stevebuckies have the power to change that. All we need to do is come together, and stay together.

Think about how big we are as a fandom. All we need is unity and reach. I don't have the number of followers needed to get this post to enough people at once, but I can try regardless. Somebody has to start, and if it must be me, I'll do anything needed. It's going to be worth it.

I'll be making this post everyday, or at least as often as I can. I'll be tagging some of my Stucky shipper mutuals here, and I need everyone who sees this and agrees with me (whether you ship them romantically or just care enough about their friendship) to reblog this as many times as you can. Flood their social media.

This protest needs a special tag, so let's call it #ReleaseStuckyCWScene (don't forget this tag; we want those who just want fics or other posts to be able to filter this out if they don't want this)

Should you choose to join me, please make this post frequently and tag Marvel in every post. Do this on all platforms where you're active, regardless of how many people you know and how many followers you have. And please use tags where they're applicable.

Taking one day out of each year to jointly talk about Stucky is not enough. We need to be consistent. I need patience and perseverance from all of you.

I believe in every single one of you. Let's fucking do this. Starting right now.

@mainly-marvel @oneofstarkskids @jjmaybanksgun @slut-for-henry-cavill @stuckyfingers @amarriageoftrueminds @imposterogers @artwinx @capibuck @uninspired-platypuss

(reply here if you want to be on this taglist)

[basalamander-corner]

When you stop to actually think about it, the situation the octolings go through in pretty horrifying. Not just living in a home where the sky could collapse on them at any moment, but the futility of everything they're doing.

We learn in Splatoon 3 that some octolings clans (like Shiver's) lived above ground. They never went down into the Octo Domes, and became well-established to the point of being almost ruler-like? I don't think it's made clear if the great clans that Deep Cut hail from are seen as lords over the Splatlands or what, but they're clearly influential and powerful. So the octolings... really didn't need to spend all that time suffering.

Every one of them could have waltzed onto the surface and easily integrated into inkling society, and no one would bat an eye because as we all know: inklings are stupid as shit! They didn't care when Marina ended up there! So they wouldn't care about others.

So what was stopping them?

Could it be that the higher ups of the Octarian army, those closest to Octavio, were so blinded by their loss, by their sense of pride and their own selfishness, they felt the need to prove they were better than the inklings? To prove they didn't need their "blessed surface", and that they could survive just fine on their own? Their loss was humiliating, and for their superior weapons to lose to such a weak enemy, clearly they need to show their strength to persevere through even the most horrifying of situations.

Clouded by their arrogance, the Octarian army could only imagine that the inklings were keeping the zapfish (and other energy sources) away from them in order to punish them for daring to fight in the Great Turf War in the first place. They were so caught up in this loss they didn't realize inklings had forgotten all about the war within two generations! That sure, the inklings might have learned about it in school (as we hear from Pearl), but they don't know much else other than the basic facts.

And so, the younger generation of octolings suffered the most.

While the generation who lived through the war were trying to return to their glory days, desperate to show off their power and abilities, the newer generation of octolings are forced into fighting for a war they never wanted from a young age. We don't know if all octoling training starts at age 6, but Marina is certainly a case of it. Regardless of when they started fighting, they are fed propaganda and lies from birth.

Inklings are dangerous. Inklings are evil. Inklings will destroy you if they see you. You must avoid them. They hate you because you are an Octarian. That is why you must train.

And they have no choice but to believe it, because they've never seen anything to the contrary. They live in these crumbling domes, they know the inklings live on the surface with unlimited power, so of course they have to believe what their higher ups are saying, and what their own eyes are telling them. The new generation of octolings embody the teachings of their predecessors. As much as it might hurt to fight, as much as they are run ragged and used and abused, it's all for the best. It's for their protection. For their safety. If they step back, if they refuse service, then they're letting everyone down. The Octo Domes would lose power forever. How can you leave your own people to die? Are you selfish? Do you think the innocent must suffer? No. You'll be a good little soldier, and you'll follow orders.

But in the end—as the octolings find their way to the surface after Octavio is defeated and the Zapfish is recovered for the first time—they find out that everything they had done was for nothing. They lived through horrible conditions, believing that inklings were punishing them, only to come to the surface and find that none of it was true.

Are any of them resentful? Do some think of their time underground fondly (like Marina is implied to)? Do they see it for what it was: a futile attempt at holding onto some semblance of dignity after their humiliating defeat to an enemy who couldn't even wake up on time?

Or are they left deeply scarred by it all? Hurt that the older generation—the ones who were supposed to know best for them—would turn their backs on them and let them suffer for a so-called "greater good" that didn't even exist!

Some ramblings about how my own OCs fit into these thoughts are down below. Feel free to skip if you don't want to read something less canon!

Sashi was long trained into being the perfect soldier. He was bio-engineered for it, spliced together using the genes of other soldiers that came before him. He is mistreated by those above him... and it's deserved, isn't it? After all, he isn't an actual octoling. He was created, he wasn't born naturally. So he isn't really sentient, is he? He's just a thing. A useful tool for what the Octarian army wants to accomplish.

And so as he's mistreated, he starts to embody that too. It takes finally escaping to the surface for him to realize and come to terms with the fact that what happened to him wasn't deserved. And I think that, while he isn't resentful, he is angry at Octavio. Sashi looked up to him when he was younger: the brightly shining king who clearly wanted what was best for his people. But when Sashi learns that every was for nothing, well... he certainly won't be happy about it.

Except... we find out that Octavio (and some of the other higher ups) would have never dreamed about treating Sashi the way he was, or any other experiments for that matter.

Yes, Octavio was blinded by his own pride and dignity, but he genuinely wished the best. And to him, creating an army of super-soldiers that could fight to protect them in battle was the best decision to make. So then why? If Octavio never ordered the cruel treatment, why did it happen?

Let's go back to the propaganda and lies: many octolings would believe it. They would grow up hearing about the glory days, the stories of war... and they want a piece of that pie. They want to be a celebrated war hero, they want to rush into battle and defeat the inklings that keep them oppressed in the dark for so long. And with that desire to fight comes a penchant for cruelty. So they treat the experiments—and other lesser soldiers—poorly. Because their job as soldiers is to fight fight fight and keep fighting, so it won't hurt to push them far beyond the limits of what is humanly possible, right?

And Octavio is blind to all of this. He is blind, and it seems like he doesn't care.

So they are left to suffer in silence.

@sharliexth here's a more concise version of my thoughts I shared with you the other day lol

[taki-yaki]

Domestic In The Underdark Headcanons

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav/Durge

Despite the dangers that people preach about the Underdark, you and Astarion try to make it feel like home.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Got this out in time for the day of love. It's not quite Valentine's centric but I hope everyone enjoys it either way.

Despite the Underdark being known as the most dangerous place to live in, you and Astarion try to make it feel like home.

After finding some of the freed vampire spawn, you take up residency in an old abandoned fortress in the Underdark. It’s no grand mansion in the upper city, but you hire some artificers who are paid a little extra to keep quiet about the whole spawn situation, as well as them being able to help out fellow heroes of Baldurs Gate.

You and Astarion have a home specially made for the two of you, based on the houses in the city, as well as the spawn having homes for themselves.

When it comes to decorating the house, Astarion was mainly in charge of wallpaper and furniture choices for the home, but would also take in your inputs as well.

However, the main issue with all vampires when it comes to personal homes is the forbiddance rule they must follow, in which they must receive an invitation to enter the home, so a little hanging sign is made saying Astarion & Tav’s home which sits outside the door.

When it comes to cooking, Astarion would make an effort to learn how to, mainly for your sake if you can’t cook at all. Of course, the first few dishes may be a bit too burnt or too salty, but you can’t blame him, he hasn’t needed to eat food in over 200 years. 

“What do you mean it’s too salty for you? Well, I just kept adding salt until I could taste it”

The two of you would also take trips to the surface, via a portal setup that Gale was kind enough to arrange for you both. Visiting nearby night markets that local villages provide.

When it comes to clothing, he would embroider small messages into them whilst patching up any loose holes. Additionally, when attending parties or balls, he ensures that you wear the best outfit, during the preparations for Wither’s reunion party, he ended up spending so much time decorating your outfit, that he had to grab one of his old shirts and quickly patch it up.

He would also write small messages on your work clothes/armour for you to read while you are both apart from each other for the day, managing tasks.

During the evenings you would share each other's shirts and Astarion would always make a fuss over it “Honestly darling, it’s an honour to be wearing one of my handcrafted shirts.”

He does enjoy seeing you wearing his shirts though.

Since Elves only need around 4 hours of rest through trance, Astarion would sometimes wait for you to wake up by reading a book whilst watching you nearby. If you are an Elf or Drow, he would try to wake up before you regardless.

During the evenings, you would both cuddle together, either reading books out loud to one another or listening to each other ranting about how your day has been, from managing wayward spawn to taking out some drow raiders.

You both would bathe together, as a form of non-sexual intimacy, trying out the different scented oils that you’ve purchased from the market.

You would gift Astarion flowers that you collect from the surface, although he does find them a little gaudy, he enjoys having them as the colours remind him of being in the sun.

Astarion would try to return the favour by gifting you flowers, but only ones that would be useful for making into poisons and lists what each one is and its function.

”See if you take the petals from this one then crush and burn them, you can make a quick deadly toxin, but I think they look nice like this as well.”

Of course, when these flowers started to dry up, he would press them between books to persevere them.

Despite all the horrors of the Underdark and the gurgling task of managing over 7000 spawn. You are both able to make a place to call home.

[gem-de-lune]

Hi, I'm grateful for all your readings for Riize and Seunghan, you bring me happiness, even though its not 100% sure, but I'm curious, even if Seunghan doesn't return :(, will he get justice? Will SM apologize to him and the boys for not protecting them? I'm really worried about him, but also his family, it must be hard for all of them:( will they be able to see all the love he's receiving from the whole world? Is there a way to know if he's seeing we're still here, fighting for him and them?

I'm sorry if there are so many questions, thank you in advance for your hard work 🫂☹️

Teenie reading:

Will Seunghan get justice regardless?

King of Wands

Yes and it will be via success and perseverance one way or another. His story will be heard. He will be in a position where he metaphorically looks down to these people. But graciously. He's kind.

Will SM apologize to him and the other members?

Queen of Pentacles

Yes eventually, but through actions, not words. It's more than likely compensation, a gift, or like a gift basket, lmao. It will be something tangible. But I see this as also being very well received by the individuals involved so.

[self-loving-vampire]

That medium post is highlighting just how fucked people get when they treat gender norms like a Serious Thing you must abide by. Like, what?

1- "A weak thing really wanting to be strong is pathetic" is the kind of thing that is like... who is even saying that?

The virtue of wanting to become stronger (be it for altruistic reasons or even just to master your art) no matter how pitiful your starting position is seems to be something that repeatedly comes up in fiction.

It's not just shonen training arcs to help you overcome someone who outclasses you in every way but also things the RPG journey of starting out at level 1 barely knowing your left from your right and becoming strong enough to kill god at the end.

In fact, this is what makes games like Gothic and Dark Souls so appealing. You start out so weak that everything obliterates you in one or two hits and you're pretty much just another doomed soul in a horrible situation, but if you persevere you can overcome anything.

Maybe stop thinking of strength or weakness as something inherent to gender rather than something you need to cultivate through training and experience? Sure there's geniuses like me who get a huge experience multiplier but that's not gendered either.

2- Boys 100% do cry. They often get beat up for it because they're not supposed to cry, but they still do it regardless of how things are "supposed" to be. Because humans are humans and extremely few people naturally fit the platonic ideal of what their gender is supposed to be at all times. Crying is not exclusively a "girl" thing, and it has nothing to do with weakness, bravery, or intelligence.

See, the thing is that the people who actually get good at video games are usually people who enjoy playing video games and do it on their own rather than just when they pick up something they have never done before in an effort to get validation while being anxious the whole time because they arbitrarily decided that video games are "boy things".

You're not just missing out on the confidence buff but also jumping into a mid-game area before finishing the tutorial. What did you think was going to happen?

"Fantasy story where a woman is doing cool stuff" is like... not even abnormal if you ever engage with anything outside the absolute most mainstream of media. Maybe it won't feel so shameful if you realize it has been done extremely well countless times before.

Also gendering romance seems like a mistake as well. Like, from the exact same story as the above image:

Yeah, it turns out stories can have both romance and women doing cool things and mature, non-sexist men will not necessarily hate either of those aspects.

I'm one of those people who got physical abuse to transition to mainly just threats by fighting back, and you know what that was actually like?

I never was even remotely as strong as big as my father was. I'm 170 cm and grew up malnourished (about 100-110 lbs before I left). I eventually also developed a major disability. Meanwhile he was huge and has literally killed people before. Most of those teens who fought back against their abusive dads? They probably were still physically weaker than said dads too.

But none of that matters, because you don't need to actually win, you just need to show your will to fight. You need to make it clear that there's going to be serious costs if they are violent towards you, and even children who haven't gone through puberty at all are capable of doing that if they give zero fucks.

Even an unarmed 10-year-old who was truly willing to do so is capable of causing lasting harm to an adult. I don't blame anyone for not trying something like that themselves since most people don't want to harm their parents and are averse to pain, but it's definitely dumb to make it into a gender thing that is just impossible without a specific type of puberty.

Also I should note that in a lot of cases this doesn't make the abuse stop entirely. It didn't in my case.

This is literally just applying that one comic to yourself.

Hope you're sitting down for the next bit:

Playing cool video games is the modern day equivalent of fighting war??? How does that even occur to you? Video games are literally entertainment. More like reading books or playing sports than killing people for real.

Also like, war still exists? That's kind of a big thing that is going on right now. War exists and people are fighting it. If this person grew up in the US then their country has been at war in some capacity for the vast majority of its existence. The modern day equivalent of war is war, and war is not actually cool or respectable like gaming is.

Putting up a bright billboard that reads "You know you don't have to be like that just because of your gender, right?"

Like, who cares if the other women you know personally only improve their skills for the sake of dress-up and horses? Do you not have things you want to do? I don't know what to say other than that this reads like NPC behavior.

Tip: You can be a man if you want, but also that probably won't give you instant competence or respect like you think it will. You're still going to have to Get Good at whatever it is you want to do.

So the kind of person who tries to fake an interest in "boy things" in a completely half-assed and insecure way actually exists and has terminal gender essentialist brain. I see.

I do think that's kind of shameful not just for the essentialist garbage but also in the sense that it reads like someone who is too invested in trying to insincerely impress others at the cost of their own individuality and pursuits.

If you're going to be taking right-wing types seriously then maybe you should at least notice that they also don't seem to respect tradwife types at all. They want to own them, sure, but they don't respect them. Attraction is not respect. Those people just don't respect women by default for reasons that are patently bullshit.

This is, from multiple angles, a personal problem. Some of us actually do like video games rather than using them as a way to get respect.

In fact, I'd hate it if people made a big deal out of the fact that I'm a woman who likes video games. That is and should be just a normal, unremarkable thing.

You know, maybe that whole thing where you see yourself as an eternal, inherent weakling not just physically but technically is unhealthy and holding you back from even considering that you could ever be good at anything besides child-rearing and clothes.

Good thing that she rarely feels like this anymore as an adult who is (according to the comments) no longer in a religious cult but this is like... putting my sexist father's thoughts in a self-loathing woman, basically?

[velvet4510]

“My Heart Will Go On” has been played and replayed so often that it’s commonly considered cliche at this point to associate it with anything outside of Titanic, to apply the beautiful message within its stunning lyrics and Celine’s angelic voice to another story or specifically another couple.

But I must admit how the song screams Tolkien to me.

The ages of the world go by, and even as things change and disappear, spirits endure. Elves fade from our world, but endure in the West. Dwarves and hobbits disappear from history, but continue on in the shadows where we can never see them. Men rise and prosper. All their hearts do go on.

And more specifically, look at all the Elves - Círdan, Elrond, and Galadriel especially - who persevere and continue to be strong after enormous personal losses and struggles and destructions. Look at how the Númenorean survivors move forward after the loss of their homelands and build new homes. Look at how the Dwarves never truly lose hope of regaining Erebor and Moria, and eventually do both successfully. Look at how the hobbits evolve after the Scouring, replanting the Shire to make it more beautiful than ever before, accepting a working class gardener as their Mayor and crafting new libraries and records. Look at how Tom Bombadil and Goldberry spend all the ages of the world living happily together in their little forest, regardless of what occurs outside their home. All their hearts go on.

Look at how Bilbo and Sam each lose the respective loves of their lives (Thorin and Frodo) but each move forward, opening up to new loves in their families - Bilbo finds joy again with Frodo, Sam finds joy again with Rosie and their children - passing on their stories to the next generation, and going off to find peace in the Blessed Realm. Their hearts go on.

Look at how Frodo loses so much of himself because of the Ring, but rather than lie down and die, accepts Arwen’s gift and sails West to seek the self-care and healing that he needs. His heart goes on.

Look at how Éowyn loses every parental figure she’s ever had, survives years of sexual harassment and oppression, goes through a depression, experiences the horrors and NDEs of war … and emerges stronger and wiser than ever into a new life of love, bliss, growth, and healing. Her heart goes on.

Look at how Faramir endures years of mistreatment by his own dad and the absence of his mom, loses the only family member who ever truly valued him, is touched by the Black Breath … and survives to flourish in a new position, rebuild a broken realm, and find true love. His heart goes on.

Look at how Legolas watches almost all of his mortal friends die, but chooses to move on to the place where he can endure and not fade, carrying all his cherished memories with him. His heart goes on.

It’s actually a beautiful thing to think about.

[tenjikyu]

𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 - 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ SPOILERS FOR KANTO MANJI ARC , no shipping, just a lyric fic explaining how everyone involved is gonna save mikey ( including you !! ) , reader is baji’s gn! twin ( relevant to the plot ) , i was listening to the soundtrack and had this literally play out in my head as the song went, so i hope i do it justice .

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ A/N : im actually so excited about this OMG.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ IMPORTANT EXTRA NOTES :

manjiro’s lyric lines - purple .

senju’s lyric lines - red .

chifuyu’s lyric lines - blue .

your lyric lines - pink .

takemichi’s lyric lines - green .

irrelevant/background lyric lines - white .

♬ any moment now , your highness .

mikey looks around the “ arena ” that the battle was going to take place in. a speck of wonder crosses the blondes mind.

what was takemichi thinking? why had he returned from the future?

regardless, the sounds of footsteps began to ring through his ears.

♬ be lieve me i know , i’ve suck pretty low .

♬ but whatever i’ve done , you deserved .

♬ ( varien ! )

♬ ( quiet ! )

his mind hazes with uncertainty. manjiro’s body shakes ever so slightly.

no matter what, he must not falter.

he warned them all, to steer clear of his everlasting karma.

alas, they block his desperates pleas out.

♬ i’m the bad guy , that’s fine .

♬ it’s no fault of mine and some justice at last will be served .

♬ ( please listen )

manjiro knows deep down that no matter how hard the beg of him, he can’t return to his original character. things change you in ways you can’t truly comprehend until you’ve lived it yourself.

he wishes for more then anything to run into anyone’s arms.

anyone in toman’s arms would do.

his brothers arms would do. his sisters arms would suffice.

baji’s arms even.

♬ now it’s time to step up or it’s time to stand down .

♬ and there’s only one answer for me .

alas, the blond lifts his head a little higher. after all, doubt gets you nowhere.

he can only look forward, otherwise everyone left alive is at stake.

♬ and i’ll stand up and fight ‘cause i know that i’m right .

♬ and i’m ready , i’m ready , i’m ready .

the tokyo manji flag can be ever so slightly seen with the numerous yet limited footsteps loom closer.

danger is sensed in manjiro’s head.

he can feel it, touch it, caress it all he wants.

but danger halts for nobody.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

♬ now it’s time to rise up or it’s time to stand down .

♬ and the answer is easy to see .

only a few hours prior, with all of the next generation of the tokyo manji gang members present, senju stands tall with both you and takemichi by her side.

she knows the blonde will not put up an easy fight, and with so strong yet so little people against their godly force, high morale is a little difficult to seep through everybody.

♬ and i swear by the sword , if you’re in get on board .

♬ are you ready ?

♬ i’m ready ! we’re ready ! ( we’re ready )

senju feels no doubt in her heart that no matter the fear amongst the original members, that they will prevail for the sake of their beloved old leader.

they will pull through for manjiro sano.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

♬ are you quite sure we can do this ?

chifuyu leans gently into your side as to lower his voice.

he knows how deeply you treasure mikey.

with how close baji and mikey were, not to mention sanzu also against them, it would be hard for you to fight against someone you considered family .

alas, you only smiles gently at his concern.

♬ together , we will guarantee .

“i’ll be okay, chifuyu. i appreciate your concern.” you reassure him.

you weren’t lying when you said that you appreciated his worries, however you weren’t sure if you would truly be able to land a hit on mikey.

the boy was there for you through thick and thin. with you comforting him through his brothers passing and him returning the favour with your twin brothers death, you felt your heart ache ever so harshly.

regardless, you had to persevere. for mikey’s sake, and for your friends sake.

♬ i’ll make them hear me (now it’s time to redeem or it’s time to resolve )

with manjiro sano , harychiyo sanzu and kokonoi hajime standing in front of the three of you, you felt your body shudder at the blondes glare that was directed at you.

♬ prove they can trust me ( and the outcome will hardly come free )

senju grasps your hand lightly, her own brother staring her down like she’s worthless. nothing but a setback in his eyes.

you smiled back at her before you both proudly stood next to takemichi. she had always been your #1 supporter, regardless of history.

♬ i’ll save my home and family .

with all the courage you could muster, you stared back into mikey’s soulless sockets. nothing but heartbreak and fear filled his sorrowful expression.

you knew in that moment, that you needed to rescue your brother.

you had already lost one, you couldn’t afford to loose another.

♬ now the line’s in the sand and our moments at hand .

♬ and i’m ready .

♬ i’m ready .

♬ i’m ready .

with a pool of silence overtaking the battlefield, manjiro sano turns to takemichi hanagaki for the signal.

the signal that a battle was about to commence.

♬ ready as i’ll ever be .

[is-the-fire-real]

Hello! I've recently realized (through blogs like yours) that I've been casually absorbing a lot of antisemitism, and I've been trying to learn more so as to counteract it, at least in my own head. I've seen the horseshoe theory mentioned a few times, but never explained what it actually is. Would you be able to link me to some reading on the subject? Regardless of whether you answer, I'd like to say thank you for your time, and I'm glad you exist!

Hello there! Thank you for stopping by and for asking important questions like this. It's very difficult to admit to, and confront, the bad messages we've absorbed from society. The cool thing is that you'll have some difficult work at first, but it gets way easier with time. You are going to be fine so long as you persevere.

I will let you know that I'm not an expert in anything--I only ever graduated high school in the US! So I can tell you what horseshoe theory is thanks to a lot of auto-didactic reading on the subject, but I don't have sources in front of me. I invite anybody in Jumblr to tweak or correct anything I'm about to say.

"Horseshoe theory" isn't just about antisemitism, but about extremism--but we'll come back to antisemitism. It is summarized by the image of the horseshoe: the two ends of the horseshoe should, by all rights, be far away from each other--they're the opposite ends! But when you look at a horseshoe, the two end points are very close to each other. Closer to each other than either one, on its own, is to the middle.

When one maps out political or social beliefs, it is common to place them on an X/Y axis, or a straight line. One extremist position takes up the X, the opposite takes up the Y, and the moderate position marks the center. This gives the impression that both forms of extremism are naturally opposed to each other, and are farther from each other than they are the middle.

Horseshoe theory suggests that this X/Y axis is inadequate. What we see in actual human behavior is that extremists have more in common with other extremists than they do with moderates, even if their beliefs appear to contradict.

So, take an X/Y axis about leftism. One end is marked "anarchism", one end is marked "authoritarian communism", and the middle is marked "liberalism". One would think that anarchists would be the polar opposite of authoritarian communists, and that anarchists and ACs would fight to get liberals on their respective sides--since liberals are closer to them than they are to each other. But we don't see that. We see anarchists and ACs spatting online about who is the Real Leftist, but in real life, regarding real-world action, both groups agree that their real enemies are not each other, but liberals.

This is because, while both groups have very different ideas about how leftism should be implemented, they agree on the most immediate "problem" of overthrowing liberal democracy.

The meme on the left is that liberals will invariably ally with fascists, so don't trust liberals. The reality, over and over again, is that leftists ally with fascists and try to undermine liberals. They do this because they all agree that modern democracy, the greatest achievement of liberalism, must be destroyed in order for their preferred replacement utopia to arise.

I saw this, among many, many other examples, when leftists voted for Trump, or voted for Stein or Sanders knowing it would lead to Trump's election. Leftists joined right-wingers in going to liberal blogs and laughing at them on election night 2016; both groups openly salivating at the suffering they saw, both groups opining on the future collapse of democracy, both agreeing with each other. I saw it also during the 2004 election, when I ran a couple of LiveJournals that talked about politics--I had both leftists and right-wingers mocking my pain at that electoral loss, both blaming me for being gay and asking for rights at The Wrong Time, both agreeing with each other.

This is obvious in a variety of extremist belief systems, which is why I didn't even restrain it to politics. Flat Earthers largely do not agree with one another on a flat-earth map or model; they don't agree on whether or not they are Christians; they don't agree on what it would take to prove or disprove their ideas. They constantly infight over these details. But these are all window-dressing. It's tiny details they battle it out over, because the point of Flat Earth is to create a massive conspiracy among politicians, scientists, militaries, and religions to Suppress The Truth and Dupe The Masses. In that, all the extremists are closer to each other than they are to those who accept the globe earth as fact.

The phrase folks throw around on Jumblr, which I agree with, is that "the forge that bends the horseshoe is antisemitism". In less illustrative language, the thing on which all extremists agree is that the Jews are responsible for their pet conspiracy.

Leftists often misattribute a saying to Marx: "antisemitism is the socialism of fools". In this view, socialism teaches the exact structure of most baseline antisemitic beliefs. A semi-secret group of bloodsuckers hoarding all the wealth, puppeting and manipulating world events from behind the scenes, sneaking and sliming their way into Real Power--the power no one ever sees? Yeah, those are all antisemitic canards. But leftists thought they could avoid falling for antisemitism by simply putting words like "the wealthy" or "landlords" and "the bourgeois" in place of "the Jews", and that they'd be fine.

I would argue the last year (and many other years, but that's beside the point) has proven that they are not fine. It turns out that when you have an entire belief system based on Jew Hating Without Jews, it's extremely easy to start hating Jews! All you have to do is redefine your terms so that "the wealthy", "landlords", or "the bourgeois" are the Jews.

A specific example, and one I've discussed recently: the term "Zionist". Not what it means, but how it is used and what it is understood to mean.

Far-right extremist antisemites have used "Zionist" to mean "Jew" for decades. And they have tried, for decades, to make alliances. They have done this by saying things that sound good to leftists, but which give the right-wingers plausible deniability regarding their antisemitism (what we call "dogwhistling"). This bait did not work on liberals. It did work on leftists. And now, we see that liberals generally use "Jewish" to mean "Jewish" and "Zionist" to mean "Zionist", but that leftists use "Jewish" to mean "Jew I like" and "Zionist" to mean "Jew I want to kill".

Once again, leftists agree with Nazis and the extreme right. Once again, leftists make it clear by word and deed that they care more about the socialism of fools than they do about socialism. Once again, they validate that Hating Jews Without Jews only lasts until there's any reason whatsoever to plug Jews back into the system of hate, and then...

This is the hypothesis of horseshoe theory as I understand it. Again, if anyone has corrections or scholarly sources they'd like to share, please do so! I like to learn and I am often inside my own head, so I admit that I could be wrong in some details or missing nuance.