#World War I Monument

[rabbitcruiser]

Canadian physician Cluny MacPherson first presented his gas mask invention to the British War Office on May 10, 1915.  

[freepassbound]

Bits & Bobs (Pt. 2)

Walked across to hit the New York side - which meant walking across the Rainbow Bridge... and crossing an international border on foot!

Three Sisters Islands was about as close as one was allowed to get on that side.

Apparently they close a lot off during the winter because of the freezing spray (seen in the middle photo).

The most expensive pair of eggs (and accoutrements) I'll ever eat; ice-crusted bushes at the brink; and the Brits love a plinth.

[femslashspuffy]

Say what you will about superhero movies but they kinda went off with imagery of the destruction of American patriotism

[tmcphotoblog]

Olney War Memorial

Olney is a market town and civil parish in the unitary authority area of the City of Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire, England.

[tenth-sentence]

Setting the pace for the new breed of empire builder in science, he launched a public subscription drive for larger facilities, which by the start of the First World War brought in pledges of sixteen thousand pounds – the bulk of it from Sir Herbert Bartlett, a wealthy contractor who desired an architectural monument but was indifferent to what the monument contained.

"In the Name of Eugenics: Genetics and the Uses of Human Heredity" - Daniel J. Kevles

[lorynna]

In World War II, Nazi Germany established brothels in the concentration camps (Lagerbordell, Sonderbauten or Freudenabteilungen "Joy Divisions") to increase productivity among male inmates.

In the end, the camp brothels did not produce any noticeable increase in the prisoners' productivity levels, but instead, created a market for coupons among the camp VIPs.

Here's a few of the locations where this happened:

Mauthausen/Gusen, Auschwitz, Buchenwald, Neuengamme, Dachau, Dora-Mittelbau, Sachsenhausen, Flossenbürg and others

The women forced into these brothels came mainly from the women-only Ravensbrück concentration camp, except for Auschwitz, which "employed" its own prisoners.

In combination with the German military brothels in World War II, it is estimated that at least 34,140 female inmates were forced into sexual slavery during the Third Reich.

The brothels form the subject of "Das KZ Bordell" (The Concentration Camp Brothel) by Robert Sommer, a book that has been hailed as the first comprehensive account of a little known chapter of Nazi oppression in World War Two.

It explores the origins, structure and impact of the "Sonderbauten" (special buildings) run by Heinrich Himmler's SS in Germany and Nazi-occupied Europe.

"In the collective memory and written history of World War Two, the camp brothels were for a long time taboo," the 35-year-old Berliner told Reuters. "The former prisoners didn't want to talk about it: it was a difficult subject to handle."

"It didn't fit so easily into the postwar image of the concentration camps as monuments to suffering."

According to concentration camp survivors the women in those brothels were replaced every 6 months and the women who got replaced were killed in gas chambers.

It is important to note that we distinctively speak of sexual slavery here and of rape.

I wanted to point this out especially because I have been seeing liberal feminists talking about this topic, calling it "forced sex-work", "forced sex-labour" etc.

It is beyond disrespectful to call these female victims "sex-workers" or "employees" when their sexuality was brutally exploited, their diginities taken, their health was sacrificed, they were raped repeatedly and then executed after 6 months, even though they were promised to be released after those months. But those promises of course were never honored.

Liberal feminism and radical feminism differ a lot when it comes to views on the topic of prostitution but this does NOT excuse labeling victims of abuse and rape as "sex-workers" or calling their suffering "forced sex-labour."

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[jonathanrogersartist]

How 'The Acolyte' Disappointed Me, and Why the Themes of 'Star Wars' Matter

Someone recently commented on my 'On the Dark Side, the Jedi and the Moral Decay of Star Wars' essay with these words: 

"A lot of words for saying 'I don't like the newer media, but I won't get into specifics as to why.'"

Okay! I shall then finally clarify those specifics....

That first essay has, so far, been my biggest success on this blog, and it's attracted a number of interesting responses. Full disclosure: I wrote that fresh off the heels of feeling depressed over how the Acolyte ended, and after reading/listening to several of Leslye Headland's interviews, where she went into great detail about her ideas behind the show's choices, the themes she's trying to get across, and what personal baggage she brings to Star Wars. 

Why was I depressed?

Because the show's finale ended with the deeply problematic implication that Osha, by killing Sol and joining Qimir, has achieved true self-actualization. As Leslye herself put it, it's a 'positive corruption arc.' Interesting way to phrase it. 

Furthermore, Vernestra's actions that frame Sol for several murders, all to protect her own reputation, and to avoid oversight by the Senate, confirmed one of the things that I was really worried this show would do as soon as we began learning plot details, which is that it's leaning into this very persistent edgelord take that the Jedi are actually big ol' bastards not worth seeing as heroes. 

It's the Dave Filoni gospel of the Jedi Order as a morally broken and fundamentally hypocritical institution, a decaying monument to religious hubris, who brought about their own destruction with their arrogance and so-called rejection of emotion making them lack empathy. 

This is, as many of my followers know already, a giant misreading of George's storyline in the prequels, and what he was actually telling us about the Jedi's philosophy and code. And in my experience, it gets us some vicious pushback when we try to inform fans of it, even if we back it up with proof of George's words. 

George really did intend the Jedi to be the ultimate example of what a brave, wise, and all-loving hero should be, and are very specifically inspired by Buddhist monks. They do not 'repress emotions': they learn to regulate their emotions, so as to not let the negative ones feed the Dark Side, and they have the moral fortitude to focus on their spiritual duty. They're professionals that have dedicated themselves to a higher calling, and who still feel and display the same emotions we all feel, unless I watched very different movies from everyone else. We see that Jedi characters can still crack jokes, cry when they are sad, become scared or anxious, feel strong love and loyalty to their peers, and can even be righteously angry in some situations BUT always knowing when to pull back.

The Jedi of the prequels were victims of manipulation by Palpatine, and were caught in between a rock-and-a-hard-place with the Clone War, and they were ultimately destroyed not by their own actions, but by the treachery of Anakin Skywalker, who failed to overcome his own flaws because he refused to really follow the Jedi teachings, and was gaslit by Palpatine for decades on top of that. 

Leslye's take on Star Wars, based on how she wrote the story of the Acolyte, is that "yup, the Jedi were doomed to destroy themselves by being hypocritical and tone-deaf space cops," and she also outright compared them to the Catholic Church (this reeks of Western bias and misunderstanding of Eastern religions). The one that really stunned me, was when she said she designed Qimir to be her own mouthpiece for the experience of being queer and suppressed, who isn't allowed to just be her authentic self in a restrictive world. Which, to me, implies that Leslye wanted to depict the Dark Side as actually a misunderstood path to self-actualization that the Jedi, in keeping with their dogma of repressing emotions, only smear as 'evil.' 

Let me remind you all: Qimir is officially referred to as a Sith Lord, by Manny Jacinto, by Leslye, etc. And what are the Sith, exactly? 

Space fascists. Intergalactic superpowered terrorists. Dark wizard Nazi-coded wannabe dictators, whose ideology is of might-makes-right, survival of the fittest, and the pursuit of power for power's sake. To depict followers of this creed as an analogy for marginalized people who have literally been targeted and murdered throughout history BY the real-life inspirations for the Sith.... I find revolting and tone-deaf by Leslye. 

SO.... seeing how that show ended, and reading up on how Leslye intended it to be interpreted (Osha's 'triumph' over the 'toxic paternalism' of Sol/the Jedi in general), really put me in a funk, because deep down, I could just sense that this was not at all compatible with the ethos of Star Wars. It made me go on a deep-dive into the BTS of the writing of the prequels and George's ideas about the Jedi, and it's how I discovered the truth that Dave Filoni has been pretty egregiously misrepresenting George's themes for several years now, usurping George's words with his own personal fanfic about the motivations of characters like Anakin, or Qui-Gon, or the Jedi Council, etc. 

His influence on the franchise has caused this completely baseless take on the Jedi to become so widespread as to rewrite history for modern fans. Who are utterly convinced now that this anti-Jedi messaging WAS George's vision all along, and they get real mad at you if you show them actual proof of that being a lie. 

And the Acolyte is perpetuating this twisting of the very core of Star Wars. This is what I meant by the 'moral decay of Star Wars.' 

The Star Wars saga was made by George Lucas in 1977 to accomplish these specific tasks: 

To remind people of what it really means to be good.

What evil actually looks like, and how it comes from our fears and greed.

To teach kids how to grow up and choose the right path that will make them loving, brave, honest people that stand up to tyrants.

To give the world a story that returns to classic mythological motifs and is fundamentally idealistic, to defy the uptick in cynical and nihilistic storytelling after the scandals of Vietnam and Watergate broke Americans' belief in there being such a thing as actual heroes anymore. 

THAT is the soul of Star Wars. That is what George meant for this remarkably creative universe to say with its storytelling. But I sincerely think that what the Acolyte told, was that morality is relative, the heroes of this saga are actually bastards, the fascist death-cult is misunderstood, and a young woman being gaslit into joining said death-cult is a triumphant girlboss moment. When it actually comes across as the tragedy of a broken person choosing the wrong path that will only make her miserable, full of hatred and powerlust, and hurt innocent people along the way. 

The Acolyte betrayed one of George's most critical lessons: that the Dark Side ruins people, and if you want to truly become your best self, you must choose the path of Light, and the Jedi are the ones who have best mastered that path. So if the future of Star Wars is to continue framing the Jedi and their teachings as some corrupt and immoral system that is making the galaxy worse, then I would rather stick to rewatching the classic scripture of Episode 1-6. George wrote a complete and satisfying story, that is thematically consistent, and in my opinion should have been allowed to rest. 

I will not hate on new fans that love the new material, but I will pity them if they really think any of this is actually faithful to George's vision (they may very well simply not care, either, which troubles me too), and I am afraid of a show like Acolyte teaching young people to see the Jedi's philosophy as wrong, and the Sith as having a point. 

(P.S. I have a moral duty to clarify this, given the discourse around the show: No, this is not a problem with 'wokeness,' or diversity, or representation; that side of the fandom is very sick in the head and not to be taken seriously. 

It's a problem with Leslye's themes and tastes as a storyteller, being fundamentally against the ethos of Star Wars and how it soured the entire show in hindsight for me... a show that I was actually really liking, before the finale dropped its thematic nuke.)

[ghadasaftawi]

A Playground Silenced: War's Toll on Innocence The vibrant chaos of crayons and finger paint used to be the soundtrack to my mornings. Dropping my child, Yousef, off at kindergarten was a symphony of shrieks, giggles, and the occasional tear – a beautiful cacophony of childhood. But war, a cruel conductor, has replaced that melody with a chilling silence. Yousef's kindergarten wasn't just a building; it was a castle of color, a launching pad for dreams. The walls were adorned with construction paper masterpieces, a testament to tiny fingers exploring creativity. The playground, a haven of laughter, echoed with the joyous shouts of tag and the squeals of delight from the slide. Now, the building stands as a hollow shell, a monument to the war's senseless destruction. The news reports were sterile, devoid of the human cost. Buildings destroyed, infrastructure crippled – just statistics on a screen. But the reality for us is far more agonizing. The sight of the kindergarten, its roof caved in, windows shattered like broken dreams, is a constant reminder of the stolen innocence. The silence where laughter once danced is a physical ache that no bandage can heal. Yousef, robbed of his carefree world, doesn't quite understand the gravity of the situation. he asks, with a heartbreaking innocence, "When can I go back and play with Jad on the slide?" Explaining the concept of war to a child so young feels like trying to explain the color blue to someone who's been born blind. The words hang heavy in the air, a woefully inadequate response to his wide-eyed confusion. The destruction of a kindergarten is more than just bricks and mortar. It's a blow to the very heart of a community, a symbol of the future stolen. It's a generation of children forced to confront a world they never asked for. War may silence the playground, but it cannot silence the hope that burns within these children. Rebuilding the kindergarten will be more than just bricks and mortar; it will be a testament to the enduring human spirit, a promise to our children that laughter will rise again.

[decolonize-the-everything]

Sound familiar?

"After the First World War, the map of Europe was re-drawn and several new countries were formed. As a result of this, three million Germans found themselves now living in part of Czechoslovakia.

When Adolf Hitler came to power, he wanted to unite all Germans into one nation.

In September 1938 he turned his attention to the three million Germans living in part of Czechoslovakia called the Sudetenland. Sudeten Germans began protests and provoked violence from the Czech police. Hitler claimed that 300 Sudeten Germans had been killed. This was not actually the case, but Hitler used it as an excuse to place German troops along the Czech border.

Things that happened in September 1938:

Sept 7. On instructions from Hitler, Konrad Henlein broke off negotiations with the Czech government. Allegations of Czech police brutality at Moravská Ostrava were used as an excuse

Sept 7. A famously controversial editorial appeared in The Times which recommended giving Hitler what he wanted because "the advantages to Czechoslovakia of becoming a homogenous State might conceivably outweigh the obvious disadvantages of losing the Sudeten German districts of the borderland."

Sept 13. French Prime Minister Édouard Daladier asked Neville Chamberlain (leader of Czechoslovakia) to make the best deal he could with Hitler.

Sept 20. The Czechoslovak government rejected the Anglo-French proposal in a note explaining that acceptance would mean that Czechoslovakia would be put "sooner or later under the complete domination of Germany."

Sept 20. Hitler met with the Polish ambassador Józef Lipski and told him that Germany would support Poland in a conflict with Czechoslovakia over Teschen. Hitler also said he was considering shipping Europe's Jews to a colony (Israel, a colony for Europe's displaced Jewish population would be established in 1948) and expressed hope that Poland would cooperate with such a plan. Lipski replied that if Hitler could solve the Jewish question, the Poles would build a monument to him in Warsaw

September 26. In the Berlin Sportpalast, Hitler made a speech threatening Czechoslovakia with war. "My patience is exhausted", Hitler declared. "If Beneš does not want peace we will have to take matters into our own hands.

Sept 27th. The French government announced that France would not enter a war purely over Czechoslovakia. Neville Chamberlain gave a radio address saying, "However much we may sympathize with a small nation confronted by a big and powerful neighbor, we cannot in all circumstances undertake to involve the whole British Empire in a war simply on her account. If we have to fight it must be on larger issues than that

Sept 27. President Franklin Roosevelt writes to German Chancellor Adolf Hitler regarding the threat of war in Europe. The German chancellor had been threatening to invade the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia and, in the letter, his second to Hitler in as many days, Roosevelt reiterated the need to find a peaceful resolution to the issue.

Sept 29. German Führer Adolf Hitler, British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, French Prime Minister Édouard Daladier and Italian Duce Benito Mussolini met in Munich to settle the Sudetenland crisis. Czechoslovakia was not invited, neither was the Soviet Union.

Sept 30. Munich Agreement: At 1 a.m., the four powers at Munich agreed that Czechoslovakia would cede the Sudetenland to Germany by October 10. The territorial integrity of the rest of Czechoslovakia was guaranteed by all signatories. Neville Chamberlain flew back to Britain and declared "peace for our time"

I think we all deeply need to reconsider what we were taught about WW2. The allies who "saved" everyone from Hitler's camps are also the Same People who allowed him to get so much power in the first place.

Closer looks at these histories show they had their own motives for allowing it just like Biden does today. FDR & Biden are actually mirroring each other really well considering they're separated by time and death. FDR was pleading and asking Hitler to please stop doing war until Pearl Harbor cuz they had a good relationship like that :) Yeah, so all he really did up to that point was play arms dealer for France and Britain because he didn't wanna jeopardize his relationship with Germany by Directly getting involved.

Yeah.

See what I said about it sounding familiar?

And can I remind y'all that Hitler didn't start by saying he hated Jewish people. No.

You know what his plan was at first? A "Greater Germany" that would unify Germans across the territories that Germany was forced to concede after WW1.

.....Y'all remember this image?

Fascists and dictators and warmongers come in all shapes, sizes and belief systems, but you can always recognize a Fascist Supremacist by the thinly veiled expansion genocide being done in the name of their people. And the guys who help them are always trying to gaslight you about how things are "It's not that bad"

All this to say: get the fuck up and make sure history doesn't keep repeating itself because it's starting to

Y'all are sitting there asking how the Holocaust could happen and Palestinians are asking why nobody is fucking doing anything.

These are related questions.

Get up and do something. Yeah it is crazy that you're going to work when a genocide is happening...so don't!!! So many people are scared of losing their comfort because of what MIGHT happen if it's for nothing, but I'm BEGGING y'all to ask yourselves what headlines you'd rather read about the 1930's-40's and make those real.

"Mob storms parliament, stops the Munich Agreement," "Citizens of (anywhere) create Organization to protect Jewish, Black, and Homosexual peers in opposition to state sponsored violence. Quote: These are my neighbors and Nazis can't have them." "Meet the University Students who chased Nazis off campus." "'We Couldn't Do Nothing' say arrested group of women who beat a Gestapo officer with a clothing iron." "'If they can't afford us, they can't afford war': How global strikes and the lack of scabs are changing the the future of war" "'I'm afraid to Sleep' American Nazis restless after serial arsonist publishes their addresses in the paper"

Germans literally tried to assassinate Hitler. Like several times. We need to step it up.

There are SO MANY things we can do if we can just agree that none of us will be doing them alone! You are NOT powerless to stop this war just because you aren't in Palestine!!!

[descendant-of-truth]

I do think they kind of shot themselves in the foot when it comes to the events of Sonic Forces, not because they were bad ideas or even because they were poorly-executed, but because of how it necessitates a change in character dynamics that Sega isn't willing to let happen.

Sonic canon is now existing in a time where Eggman's succeeded in taking over most of the world before, along with imprisoning Sonic for, and I need to emphasize this every time I mention it, six months straight. If Sonic's going to be jokey and casual with Eggman after that, then we need to be able to tell that it's something of a front that he's putting up, or else the character continuity makes no sense.

Recall how, in Adventure 2, Sonic would mock Eggman a bit when he thought he had the upper hand with the fake Chaos Emerald, but not because he wasn't taking him seriously as a villain. He knew that the situation was tense, he was talking big just because that's his personality.

Also recall how he completely dropped the humor whenever things got really bad. Well, he's seen things get pretty much as bad as possible in Forces, all because of Eggman, and I just can't buy the casual nature of their interactions in Frontiers because of it. No matter how casually Sonic acts around him, it's gotta be clear that he doesn't feel comfortable with him. And as entertaining as their dialogue in Frontiers is due to that vibe, it's out of character at this point in the timeline.

Yes, Sonic was the same way with him during Forces. But Frontiers was fully willing to let Tails have more serious, grounded feelings about what happened in Forces, so why not Sonic?

And seriously, what's with this trend of letting literally everyone but Sonic experience residual effects of Forces? Tails shows lasting guilt/anxiety regarding Infinite's first attack in both the games and the comics. And in those comics, the Restoration is all about rebuilding the world after the war, pretty clearly being shaped by their experiences. Meanwhile, Sonic mentions his imprisonment exactly once, and it gets brushed aside immediately.

I understand that Sonic wouldn't want to talk about it, but at a certain point, he doesn't really need to. A shift in how seriously he takes Eggman as a threat, showing his distrust whenever possible, would easily be enough to get the point across. Maybe make a point about him being a little antsy in tight spaces or something (which is the same way Forces communicated the effects being captured had on him, by the way).

And honestly, Eggman should feel a little different, too. He's now someone who's come so close to complete world domination and still lost, I feel like we should be seeing... I dunno, something. A different edge to his hatred for Sonic after such a monumental failure, maybe. Anything to show that Forces mattered at all to the major players involved.

Like, I don't think I'm asking for much here. If we can shake up the status quo of the series by allowing Eggman to be an Actual Dad with a Child, we can allow Sonic and friends to treat him as a legitimate threat who can't be trusted. But nooo, Eggman has to be silly enough to continue the Brand Image, which means that Sonic doesn't even get to have retroactive character development like Tails did

[rabbitcruiser]

World War I: The United States declared war on Germany on April 6, 1917.  

[utilitycaster]

I feel like the way I think about Ludinus Da'leth is like...the Anti-Vespin. There's the basic actions they performed - both unleashed something long-sealed, but Vespin Chloras intended to destroy what he perceived to be a sealed danger, and Ludinus is using Predathos as a weapon. However, what strikes me is how the two of them have acted so far towards other mortals rather than the existential threats they've tangled with.

I suspect Ludinus is bringing in Bells Hells not because he expects them to join him, but because he really, really wants someone to validate his plan that is ultimately just a monument to his choice to wallow and make Exandria worse for it. No one likes him. He's not Ruidusborn; he can't commune with the Weave Mind and the Reilora the way others can. Liliana is in pretty deep but she's wavering, Zathuda resents him (and it seems to be mutual) and Otohan's dead. The Assembly is crumbling and the Empire's not doing well either, and the world has to an extent united against him.

Vespin chose, in his brief moment of clarity after he had unleashed the Betrayers and lost himself, to do what he could to improve Zerxus's lot, expressed anguish and remorse for his actions and his legacy, and said that he hoped the Ring of Brass would be given more grace by history. He was willing to accept the title of villain, despite being something much more complicated, because in the end he understood that giving the world a chance to survive was far more important than clearing his own name.

Ludinus, on the other hand, is fighting against historical strawmen. His resentment towards the gods is just that: a burning resentment. He could have left his mark by rebuilding post-Divergence Exandria. Instead, his legacy is one of rot, war, hatred, and corruption, from Molaesmyr to the War of Ash and Late to the Bloody Bridge. He could have been an architect of the modern age for the better. He could have tried to revive Aeorian magic and culture, and, as I've discussed, potentially even the people. He instead focused only on a centuries-long goal of destruction out of sheer spite.

Vespin was willing to shoulder any insult, deserved or not, for the rest of eternity because he understood it was less important than doing whatever he could in the few moments he had to mitigate harm. Ludinus is willing to destroy anything to retaliate for an insult.

Ludinus is livid about being robbed of an age he never got to see by the gods; and quite possibly, with the destruction of Molaesmyr, killed some of its last survivors outside exceptions such as himself. He claims to hate the gods' uneven blessings yet his alliance - and reliance - on Ruidusborn sorcerers has always made it clear that was a lie. And none of this will bring back the world he lost, and indeed, may very well set society back further.

He will tear everything apart out of hurt feelings and a desire to be correct when he could have left a shining legacy. It is the opposite of a heroic sacrifice; a petty, small self-destruction. I think he wants Bells Hells to tell him it was worth it. And I don't think they will.

[jp---v]

I don't need to, but I'll explain my Bakugou hate because I want to.

Long post. Beware

When I started reading the series I was the same age as the characters. Looking at my interests you can probably guess that I was bullied, but instead of getting all sad, I got angry at the people treating me poorly.

So as soon as Bakugou was introduced, I didn't like him. Seeing someone my age verbally threaten and physically attacking people without being punished just really put me in a bad mood whenever he showed up.

Then certain parts of the fandom got incredibly toxic, and suddenly the author is pandering to the worst of them

But the problem keeps getting worse. The entire world warps to kiss his ass. He got everything he wanted at every turn. He deserved nothing and got everything.

Immediately established as a long-term bully. His bullying is then retroactively justified by the world itself saying that Midoriya is worth less than Bakugou as a person.

Why did Aizawa, who was famous for expelling students, not so much as give Bakugou detention for trying to attack Midoriya on the first day of school?

Why didn't All Might punish him for using that gauntlet in the Battle Trials?

Despite all of his actions so far, just since being accepted into UA, the other students still want to be friends with him. They actively choose to spend time near him.

Why is it never mentioned how him(and Kirishima) attacking Kurogiri and getting in Thirteen's way is a large part of why the USJ played out how it did?

His speech at the Sports Festival

Everyone wanting to be on his team, but he doesn't know any of their names or quirks.

Trying to make an unconscious Todoroki fight back in the finals

Aizawa constantly excusing all of his behavior, circling back to my point about the world itself justifying Bakugou's shitty behavior

Attacking Midoriya in the Final Exam.

How did Sero fail his exam by being carried out but Bakugou passed?

At the Training Camp, he actively tried to go fight the villains that have openly stated were trying to capture him. Making himself an easy target and hindering the people trying to protect him

During the Rescue Operation he somehow managed to hold his own against the majority of the League of Villains on his own? Really?

He forced Midoriya to break curfew and just starts attacking him until Midoriya fights back. It's caught on camera and Midoriya somehow gets in the same amount of trouble?

And for some reason he gets let in on the secret of One for All after being such a monumental asshole since forever, despite the fact that even Inko doesn't know? Or literally anyone who would be, like, supportive of Midoriya?

He failed the Provisional License Exam, but don't worry there's a special make-up class just for the people that made it into the second half. Everyone who failed in the first half will have to wait for the next exam.

Oh wow, flawless victory in the Joint Training Arc by displaying teamwork out of thin fucking air that was really just him barking orders at the others.

For a while we just get his usual brand of egotistical asshole-ery and now being needlessly shoved into places where Midoriya's actual friends should be. Or even any of the other side characters. Horikoshi, give them some screen time

But then the war arc and the vigilante Deku arc all just get down on their knees to suck his dick so hard that his quirk evolves and his heart explodes. And I finally get a glimmer of hope for the series to finally stop shoving him down our throats, but no.

Edgeshot decides that this one kid is so important that he will sacrifice his own life to save Bakugou specifically and no one else is on his level of importance.

Going back a step; That apology was pure fucking lip service. Not a single goddamn thing changed in the way he acted afterward. He had a couple of "soft" moments when he wasn't actively screaming and cursing, but that's it.

And Horikoshi keeps fucking doing it.

Somehow each and every thing has to include Bakugou or be about how it's effecting Bakugou or has to mention Bakugou.

The majority of the (much more interesting) cast has been completely forgotten, and Midoriya's characterization got taken out back, given three rounds to the head, skinned, washed in bleach, and hung out to dry, but Oh Wow! BAKUGOU'S HERE!

I said it before and I'll say it again, I'd throw a brick at him.

These are only the broadest strokes of what happened too. If I reread the entire series I could write a massive in-depth character analysis, but that's too much even for me.

[tmcphotoblog]

Littlehampton War Memorial.

Littlehampton is a town, seaside resort and civil parish in the Arun District of West Sussex, England. It lies on the English Channel on the eastern bank of the mouth of the River Arun. It is 52 miles south south-west of London.

[itslouisan]

More Q!Philza headcannons:

You guys seemed to like my Philza hc and well guess what? I have WAY MORE of them to share so let's go! Some of them even focus on the obscure colourzas or the deities in his hardcore world!!

• Q!Phil doesn't necessarily adopt anyone he finds, but he does show to need or like to comfort others, creating a scenario in my head where Phil most likely pays attention to eggs that were more abused such as Tilin, Juana Flippa and Pepito in the early days due to seeing just like Tallulah, Tommy and so on, they needed a better caregiver.

• I already mentioned how he doesn't necessarily see Q!Cellbit as a son, but I can view him going to Cellbit's castle to talk about occultism and sometimes lend a helping hand with Richas or any problems Cellbit might deal with

• He does take good care of his appearance for events and such, but in day to day basis he looks for more comfort than style, plus optimizing for clothing that is better for combat wise than looks

• Knows how to speak enderman and pigling language bc Ranboo and Techno taught him

• Knows flower language because of Tallulah knowledge in it

• old. Like REALLY old, around centuries or so, after all he's been into wars, empires and so much, clearly showing in canon he has a lot of experience in things that happened centuries ago

• Due to being old and into a lot of battles, his hearing is very fragile, top it with autism and you have him avoiding crowded places and anything loud.

• Blueza (blue variant of Philza) has a liking towards staying in the ocean monuments and is the cousin of Purpleza and brother of Redza

• Redza has anger issues and tends to need Blueza to calm him down so he doesn't burn everything to the ground.

• Pinkza LOOKS and MOST of the time IS sweet but piss him off and mess with Yellowza and he will get violent.

• Colourzas duos:

Blueza + Redza

Yellowza + Pinkza + Orangeza

Greenza + Purpleza

Blueza + Purpleza

• Phil definitely has a Antartic Empire flag hidden away somewhere in his house

• Every morning he would go to the memorial Chayanne and Tallulah made and throw potatoes, gold and a jar of fresh blood for Techno

• Has a couple of piercings such as in the bottom part of the lips, nose and tongue (he got them to match Techno and Tommy)

• DEFINITELY used the old slipper to teach a lesson or two to Tommy

• Not only has nightmares with DSMP and hardcore, but sometimes has Dreams where he connected directly with Mumza

• Has in the back of his hair some black hair due to Mumza possession in the past which affected his hair

• Has braids in his hair around 6 for people important in his life (not only his children but people in general):

1- the longest is for Techno

2- two of them are intertwined to symbolize beeduo

3- the 3rd shortest is for Tommy

4- the 2 shortest are Chayanne and Tallulah

• Smokes sometimes to release stress but stopped when he adopted the eggs.

Well that's it for the day, hope you liked it my crows