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#UNPRECEDENTED AMOUNTS OF BACK
miketownsends · 6 months
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ANOTHER MARINERS COMMERCIAL WE ARE SO BACK
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akiacia · 4 months
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hi akia, i love your art, you're a big inspiration! i wanted to know if you played our life only after baxter's dlc came out, and also if you've ever done cove's romantic route!
i'm flattered to hear that, thank you 🥹🫶 it's been a few years but i have played cove's route, up to the beginning of the wedding dlc (incidentally, maggie's been my mc from the start)! i found ol in 2021, when steps 1-3 were the extent of its playable content - i would've finished his romance then if it had been available in its entirety, but i think i'd lost too much momentum by time we got step 4 and was stonewalled by having to choose cake flavors or something 🤣 i also distinctly remember xavier lacking sprite art at the time, pleased to see that's since changed LOL
but it was baxter's dlc that brought me back! he left such an impression and i suspected i'd enjoy his dynamic with maggie the most 🤣 i had this grand plan of starting fresh with his route and then finishing everyone else's, but as you can see….. i settled on it being her 'canon' romance and have been in the trenches since LOL
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1dhq · 2 years
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x
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jaynovz · 1 year
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I'm never going to be over Silverflint they're literally in my veins forever
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battybiologist · 8 months
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While I am happy that the Hague's ruling is leaning towards a condemnation of Israel, we can't relent in our efforts.
Not only because this is merely a preliminary ruling, but because the ICJ does not have executive power over the Israeli occupation. The IDF is free to violate their ruling at any time, at the cost of being deemed international criminals, which has never stopped them before.
Moreover, even if the Israeli government complied, the legal outcome alone is a return to the status quo. Gaza was under siege long before 2023, and the apartheid still stands.
I am not trying to discourage you: this is an unprecedented amount of support behind Pro-Palestinian advocacy, and we now have to decide if we'll use this opportunity to work towards the end of Israeli occupation of Palestine, or walk away from the issue now that the genocide is reeled back in.
So if you're tired, if you're drained, please, let this small victory embolden you and let's double our efforts.
From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.
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selfdiagnosedeyemotif · 9 months
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god after the past couple of seasons its really good to scroll down and see no trigger warning tags in the video description
HI INTREPID HEROES
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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Book
Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.
Word count: 1.7k
It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.
“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."
Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.
“A book?” 
“A most interesting book.”
His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.
He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.
The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.
Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”
“Do you really want to know, darling?”
His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.
“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.
Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.
Just bite me… 
That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.
“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”
Gods…
The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.
“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”
You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”
Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.
He was good.
He knew he was good.
And he wanted you to show him.
Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.
The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.
“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.
Another agonising clench.
You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.
“Well? Will you let me breed you?”
His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.
“Astarion…”
Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.
It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.
Just for you.
The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.
Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.
And then he hissed.
“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.
This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.
He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.
Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.
“Eyes on me.”
You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.
A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”
You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.
He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh. 
Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.
By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.
You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.
“Enjoying the view, darling?”
You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes. 
Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.
He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.
You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.
A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”
You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.
A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.
He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.
You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.
As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.
He was still buried deep inside you.
Had he come with you?
The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.
He had yet to reach his peak.
“Can you give me another one?”
Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”
He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.
The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.
His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.
“Use your words.”
You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.
“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead. 
His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.
“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.
You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch. 
“Bite me…”
The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.
As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.
Your senses were full of him.
Filled with him.
Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.
It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.
His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.
Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.
The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.
He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.
He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.
You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.
Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.
Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.
Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.
It was too much.
You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.
Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.
You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.
With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.
You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.
“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”
He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.
“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.
“Not high at all.”
Just as you had suspected.
“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”
Oh.
Oh.
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A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha
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ozzgin · 8 months
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I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...
If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️
The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)
Yandere! Host x Reader
You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.
Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation
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Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.
He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.
One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.
You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.
Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.
You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.
You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.
Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.
The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?
"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?
Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.
"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.
"Everything."
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stuhde · 1 year
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i had shared what is happening in sudan on a long facebook post last night, but it virtually received almost little to no engagement or shares from the nearly 600 “friends” i have on the site.
this morning, my great-aunt was shot by the soldiers fighting for power, and God forbid, i lose more of my family members before eid this friday.
please read below to understand what is happening and how you can help my country. i hope the tumblr community can show more kindness than the lack of support and advocacy i’ve seen elsewhere.
يا رب اجعل هذا البلد آم��اً 🇸🇩
the lack of awareness and advocacy from the African, Arab, and Muslim diaspora and the human rights community has been painful.
while Western media has done little to no coverage of the ongoing conflict in the capital city of my motherland, Sudan, it appears that the rest of the world also partakes in normalizing crimes and violence against SWANA people.
violence and war hurting the SWANA region are NOT ordinary occurrences — no one, regardless of race, creed, ethnicity, religion, and gender, should experience the unprecedented amount of violence that harms my two living grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and baby cousins who live in Khartoum.
your decision to ignore reading or educating and discussing with others about what is likely to be a civil war is complicity in viewing SWANA people as individuals who regularly experience conflict and are undeserving of help.
the silence is damaging, and it is up to us as privileged members of the diaspora (or individuals living in the Western world committed to human rights) to support the people of my country and their dream for a stable, democratically elected government.
what is happening in Sudan is a fight that started on April 15 between two competing forces for power — the Sudanese Army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) — neither groups are representative of the needs of our people. The Sudan Army is loyal to the dictator, Omar Al-Bashir, and the RSF is responsible for the genocide in Darfur.
with both power struggles backed by different Arab and Gulf nations, the two parties have been fighting for power for the last few years. While they worked together to try and end the people’s revolution, they lost. however, they are now in a constant power play of who will get to rule the nation.
this all means that war is NOT a reflection of my country — violence does not represent the SWANA people. Sudan is a nation of beautiful culture, strong women, intellectual and influential Islamic scholars, poets, and youth at the front lines of the revolution. we are a people committed to a region of peace for ourselves and the rest of the Ummah.
my family and the rest of Sudan’s innocent civilians are at the most risk, with many currently without drinking water, food to eat, electricity, and complete blockage to any mosques during the final nights of Ramadan, our holiest month of the year.
i ask that you please keep Sudan and our people in your prayers — donate to the Sudan Red Crescent or a mutual aid GoFund Me, email your representatives if you live in a country that can put pressure on either competing force of power, discuss this with your family and friends, and please do not forget to think about SWANA people — our brothers and sisters in Syria, Yemen, Lebanon, and many others need our love and support.
الردة_مستحيلة ✊🏾
#KeepEyesOnSudan
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qqueenofhades · 11 days
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I would like to... gently shake the people going 'Dick Cheney/Alberto Gonzalez/[insert neoconservative architect here] endorsing Harris is entirely and only a bad look for Harris' because that's not the point. And like, I get feeling weird about it (I've been unimpressed with Dick's backpedaling since Liz Cheney got primaried), but: Trump is proving too extreme for THE PEOPLE WHO MADE HIM POSSIBLE. This is their consequences. THAT'S the point.
Look, this is what I think about it: I fucking hate Dick Cheney and all the architects of the Bush Junior neoconservatism-early-aughts-War-on-Terror-Patriot-Act-No-Child-Left-Behinding Republican Party that laid the groundwork for the Tea Party and then for Trump. If there was any justice in the world, Dubya would be at the Hague for a war crimes tribunal and not allowed to sit in Texas painting dogs and enjoying a quiet retirement. But he was fortunate to be the president of the most powerful country in the world, and America doesn't obey international law unless it feels like it, so that's what we get. (And yes, someone asked Dubya if he was going to endorse in 2024, following Cheney, and was told, no doubt with much pious handwringing, that "President Bush retired from presidential politics many years ago." But he's still raising money for MAGA Senate candidates in Pennsylvania, evidently. Fuck you, George W. Bush. Kids these days don't say it enough.)
However, since literally the entire pre-Trump establishment Republican party is now deciding that Trump is too insane, fascist, and dangerous even for them, I'm not surprised but still annoyed that Online Leftist Logic (TM) has translated that to "Harris must secretly be an early-noughties hard-right neocon Republican and that's why they want to vote for her!!!" Most if not all of them have said that they openly disagree with her policies but are voting for her anyway because she is the only way to maintain American constitutional democracy. And yes, we're all shocked that DICK FUCKING CHENEY, architect of the Iraq War and the Patriot Act, felt that there was in fact a line of fascist government overreach that he wasn't willing to cross, but if that's the case -- if even these completely terrible warmongering corporate assholes are like "uh Trump is too bad even for us to support," then you should, I don't know, maybe listen to that. But as ever, I search for logic in vain.
Likewise: Harris has made zero policy concessions to these Republicans and she never went fishing for Cheney's endorsement specifically. She didn't suddenly declare Iraq a totally okay and normal thing in order to get Cheney and his warhawks on board, and yes, Old Dickhead probably has no small amount of personal motive to get back at Trump considering what he did to Liz. But that's the thing where apparently political motives should only ever be pure, moral, and Perfect, and taking the right action for the "wrong" reasons is still disqualifying because you weren't thinking enough pure moral thoughts while you did it, or something. I don't give a fuck why Cheney decided to vote for Harris, because I don't respect his opinion and can't foresee myself ever doing so. But because we are in an unprecedented historical moment where even DICK GODDAMN CHENEY thinks that Donald Trump is too dangerous to ever have power again, I will thank him for doing that and that alone and then tell him to hit the f'n road if he thinks he deserves a scrap of credit or Democratic policy concessions for it. He doesn't. He sucks. But he's still making a choice that we need to see made at this moment, and people who don't get that, as usual, can STFU.
Basically: Cheney's endorsement is not directed at you, and it's not intended to move voters who already fit your profile and therefore think, like I do, that Cheney can eat shit. It's directed to all the career-Republican-politician types who can see him doing that and decide that they can do the same thing. Hell, we just had 17 former staffers of Ronald Reagan announcing their Harris endorsement (in addition to the 200+ Bush, McCain, Romney alumni who already signed on and all the ex-Trump officials at the DNC) and going so far as to insist that Ol' Ronnie Raygun himself would have supported Harris. Now look. I hate Ronald Reagan more than any other twentieth-century president. The degree to which he ALSO laid the groundwork for incredible damage to America cannot be overstated. But because I am not an idiot, I can see that this does not mean Harris has suddenly turned into Reagan in her policies. So. Yeah.
The other thing to note here is that Harris has seen the advantage in cultivating a bipartisan coalition and making a cross-party case for voting her to preserve American democracy. Now, a lot of the Republicans have said that they are going to stay Republicans and they want to purge their party of Trump and MAGAism, they are trying to buy time for that transition to happen by voting for Harris, and while I have never voted for or agreed with a Republican in my whole life, I actually think that's a good thing! I don't WANT to fear the end of American democracy every four years because the Republican Party has become a screaming shitgibboning insane vehicle of American Gilead while inciting stochastic terrorism against Springfield, Ohio and everyone else who doesn't bow down to Trumpist Dear Leader and his KKK alt-right Elon Muskified supporters! I don't WANT this howling fascist conspiracy-theory-puppet-of-Vladimir-Putin black hole of violence to be just what we have to accept as the center-right (except you know, now far-far-far-far-can't-see-it-with-a-telescope-right) party in America! I would prefer it if we had a functioning democracy again where both parties were engaging in fair competitiveness and good faith and had the basic premise of making people's lives better, even if they disagreed about how to do it! I would REALLY like it if we could go back to the days of disagreeing about taxes and foreign policy and social welfare -- you know, NORMAL THINGS -- instead of Commander Vance and the Project 2025 foot soldiers trying to install a theocratic fascist dictatorship! I WOULD LIKE THAT A WHOLE LOT!
That said: I have pretty much reached my limit with asking people to vote. I have done it for 8+ years (since before Trump was elected the first time) and I'm done. Either you know the stakes of this election at this point, or you're so blindly and stupidly committed to misunderstanding them that there's nothing I or anyone else can possibly do to convince you. I still see people posting a lot of stuff from the bad-faith anti-democratic leftist cranks and arguing with them endlessly and... why? Why? Why are you giving them the oxygen and exposure that they crave, and which is giving them more attention than anyone else is giving them? Block them. Mute them. STOP ENGAGING WITH EVERYTHING THEY SAY EVEN IF YOU'RE TRYING TO REFUTE IT. It's not going to work, and at this point, it's not remotely conducive to winning this election. The Great Myth of the Undecided Voter (TM) is another one that, I hope, can finally bite the dust, and the actual undecided voters who are out there are not the ones posting dirtbag leftist bullshit about Harris on The Website Formerly Known as Twitter. This election is now completely down to a numbers game: who can make their identified voters turn out to vote. So please. Spend your time and energy on reaching those folks, who might want to or have said they will vote but need a push or extra help to make sure they do.
That being the case, if lifelong Republicans want to vote for Harris and help defeat a Trump dictatorship, they're actually being more helpful for the cause of American democracy than every single shrieking Online Leftist out there, and maybe they should think about that. I'm amused at how they still think they can make demands of the Democrats, because -- when your entire plan from the word go has been "I'm not voting for the Democrats and there's nothing you can do to make me!!!" -- why are you surprised that they don't take your thoughts and opinions into account? That's the basic simplest Democracy 101 version of how electoral politics works. If you have removed yourself from their voter pool and laugh and scoff at any suggestion that you should enter it, then they're not gonna listen to you or think that they should make policy to appease you (which is good, because most of these people are fucking nuts). That's why they're blowing a gasket disowning AOC, still one of the most left-wing members in the House, because she wants to actually win and make real changes in society and has reached a happy-ish marriage with the Democratic party, instead of virtuously losing her seat and becoming irrelevant like some other members of the Squad who got primaried out this year. And the Democrats have accepted many of AOC's views as mainstream policy! She didn't change, but she stayed in the party and worked with it, and the party as a whole is moving to where she was all along. But because any hint of compromise or working to get results, rather than just posting self-righteous screeds on the internet, is Bad, she had to go, I guess. Or something.
Anyway. That's the that on that. If you want to win this election, target and talk to the people who have already identified themselves as likely or possible voters, they just need that extra push to become definite voters. I'm over the anti-democratic hypocritical leftist cranks as much as I am the screaming shitgibboning racist-mob-inciting fascists. If it takes some Republicans gritting their teeth and getting on board the "let's save American democracy" boat with me, then fine. They're actually willing to do the smallest tiny thing to make that outcome come about, and that means, for right now, they are the enemy of my enemy and I'll accept their help. After that, I would in fact like it if we had a sane center-right party again, once Trump is in jail and we can fumigate the MAGA rot. It's up to them.
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jaegerbby · 2 months
Text
➳ saint
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--͙[touya todoroki x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 3925
╰┈➤ rundown; your luck always has you at the wrong place, at the wrong time and touya is the reason.
╰┈➤ caution; previous NONCON ENCOUNTER MENTIONED, NONCON elements, scumbag! fratboy! dabi, virginity loss, no prep, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, clothed sex, creampie, possessiveness, dirty talk, yn has small boobs, blow job mentioned, spitting in mouth, use of the word slut.
not proof read !!
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the way you met touya is uncanny.
it is vile and putrid. you wish to wipe that moment from existence.
so why do you always end up around him? why do you now know an unprecedented amount about him?
"no doesn't hold any weight to me." his voice is low. his eyes are dark. you know that. you experienced it. he is spoilt, without a doubt. he gets his way, at least that is what everyone believes.
you should not be sitting next to him. his eyes trail from your exposed thighs to the ends of your hair entwined with his fingers.
he readjusts himself on the stiff sofa, spreading his legs wider and his thighs strain against his distressed jeans.
he looks untouchable. he looks like nothing in the world is capable of moving him. where money is present, power follows. touya did whatever the fuck he wanted.
"don't act like you get all that you want." you grit your teeth. he is infuriating. "your father has told you no. if he says no, you shut up and listen."
you can see the shift in his expression. you can feel it in the atmosphere. it crawls up your back and grips at your shoulders.
you know better than to mention that estranged relationship. you know better than to provoke him.
his hand stills, cerulean eyes narrowing. his grip wraps in your hair, it hardly looks like he is pulling but your roots sting. the tension on your strands makes you flinch.
this is the same man that had no qualms shoving you to your knees in an egregious alley. even as you protested, even as you hissed at your bloody knees. you were not there on your own volition.
you came to pick up your friend. you came there because she called for you to drive her home. she was long gone by the time you got there.
when you should have been taking your friend home, you were having a cock shoved down your throat. one so big it made your jaw ache and your eyes water.
he kept pushing and pushing until you were gargling on his cum, too sober to wipe the images out of your brain.
you were not even privy to touya's name. you never saw a cock much less had your throat stretched by one but he did not care.
touya knew you.
somehow, that was all that mattered to him.
your mind says to run. it says to bolt out of this room, maybe jump out of the window if it meant avoiding him because the look he gives you is eerily similar to that night.
"enji is the reason i'm this fucked up disaster. he knows it. my entire fucking family knows it. he would rather die than tell me no." he pauses, his gaze flickering over you like he has already decided on what he will do to you. like he already planned every scene in his head a long time ago. "he loves me."
you never should have let him drag you into this room. you were not suppose to be here in the first place. it seems touya always makes it the wrong place and the wrong time for you.
you jolt, eyes widening when his hands grip you. his palms are heavy, they are firm, from his touch alone you know you cannot escape him.
when he has you like this, all your resolve is shattered.
it does not take much for him to force you onto your back, he looks too big, too big for you. all you can see is him and he practically plasters his hard, muscular body to you.
your mind flashes with every memory from that night. where touya had you kneeling in a nasty alley. you can feel his cock heavy on your tongue and his taste throughout your mouth. you can feel hot, sticky cum being spewed into the back of your throat despite your gags of protestation.
you tried so hard to forget it, to dissolve the moment into nothingness but here you are remembering his eyes glimmering in content while he violated your mouth.
"and you love me too." there is a sharp intake of breath when those words leave his mouth. he says it with certainty, like he has never been more sure of something.
his callous hands slip beneath your skirt, you find yourself regretting your clothing choice. he grips your thighs, a wolfish expression on his face as he familiarises himself with your soft skin. places no one has seen much less touched.
touya wants to be the first, he wants to be the only one.
his thumb hooks on the crotch of your panties and he tugs them to the side. you feel cold air brushing your cunt. you hear touya's breath grow laboured, his eyes dark as they rove over your exposed pussy.
you flinch, pressing your foot against him. you try to push him away but it is hard when his body keeps you open for him. it is hard when your strength is incomparable to his.
a grin impresses on his features, pearly white teeth and dimples. it is the same smile he gave you before he had you deep throating his cock.
"i don't." your voice is warbled and shaky. his head tilts in amusement.
"really?" the sound of his zipper undoing fills your ears and trepidation settles in your bones. "then tell me your pussy isn't wet." his face nears yours, "tell me you aren't dripping like a slut."
you cannot say no.
you cannot oppose it.
you want to, you want so desperately to deny him and for it to hold an ounce of honesty. it claws at your throat, the same way you clawed at his thighs when he had you choking on his dick.
he laughs right in your face. the low baritone vibrates through your entire body.
"of course you can't, i can fuckin' see it! your pussy's so messy, could swear it's been creamed already. but it hasn't, you're just that soaking." the vulgar words elicit a whimper from you. you want to hide away but it is impossible when he has you trapped under him. he leans down to lave his slimy tongue over your trembling lips before his mouth nears your ear.
his voice tethers on a lack of self control. "you know," you feel his cock nudging your inner thigh, his pupils blown wide as he watches his dick inches away from your dripping slit. "i can smell it, i thought i was losing my fucking mind but no. all i could smell when i had my cock down your throat was your tight as hell pussy."
you should be mortified by his words, they are salacious and disturbing. instead your back arches, your body betrays you because here you are keening into touya like you want him to touch you.
"you were so shit at sucking dick, i wouldna' came if i didn't fuck it myself. i wanted nothing more than to bend you over and take your pussy because it smelled addicting." touya bites down on the full flesh of his bottom lip, his thumb pulling at the lace of your panties so hard you jerk.
"fuck, i can smell it right now. know it's all tight and ripe, know you're just waiting for me to take it."
he crowds over you more, a broken whine leaves you when the heated swollen head of his cock meets your clit. you swear you can feel it pulsing. steely blue eyes meet yours in an instant and a grin stretches across his face. you hate that the only thought in your head is how pretty his smile is and not the weight of his cock desecrating your body.
"it smells like mine. i swear if you let another man near this cunt, i'd kill him. i'd fuck you in front of him and gouge his eyes out. no one deserves to see you like that, only me." he says that while being one of the most underserving men but it's touya, he's selfish.
he would make your side his place whether you want him or not.
"i want to get in this pussy so bad." he huffs, you feel his tip throbbing against you. it feels heavy and hot where it rests on your bundle of nerves.
you cannot breathe, not with him so close, not with him on you. you have shivers along your entire body, your nerves stand on ends. all the protests die on your tongue when your cunt is slick and leaking.
you do not enjoy this.
you do not want this.
then why have your nipples stiffened so unbearably just begging to be soothed by his tongue and why are your insides craving touya to satiate you?
"what ya thinking, baby? you want to tell me no?" your lips part, your mouth webbed with sticky strands of spit. he asked you something, you should answer.
except it is hard to speak when his dexterous fingers release your underwear to instead glide along your slit. his laugh is almost mocking, your cunt soaks his digits so easily.
"i've been wanting to fuck up this innocent pussy for so long." you swear your brain has melted, it has liquified because it certainly is not operating. your eyes flick down to see his digits stroking your opening, they move away coated in your wetness. he glides his messy fingers over his cock before he brings them to your lips.
it is so easy, for your jaw to drop and for touya to sink his slick covered digits right into your mouth.
touya realises he likes you obedient.
"she's so innocent isn't she? hasn't been stretched out by a cock, hasn't squeezed around it and creamed. fuck i know she creams. she hasn't been turned into a fuck hole yet has she?"
a word has not escaped you since touya put you in this position. tears leak from your eyes but it is only from how overwhelmingly your body is begging for something you have never had before. your mouth is sticky with saliva, the taste of yourself lingering on your tongue as touya pumps his fingers along it.
you shake your head in response like he does not already know.
he pulls his hand away, reaching down to grip his heady cock, his head stroking down your cunt until he positions it at your entrance.
your entire being feels warm yet the feeling of his cock is so much hotter. your cunt drips incessantly, he smacks his tip along the mess and you jolt. touya has his cock on your pussy when you never got a good look at it before because he rawed your throat in a dark alley.
his hips shift and all you feel is pressure between your legs. he barely shoves any inside and you flash him wide eyes. he is all too pleased by the horror on your face.
"do you wanna get fucked? do you wanna know how it feels to get pulled apart and filled to the brim?" your breaths are shallow and quick, it should make you sick to be talked to like this. it should.
instead drool pools in your mouth and you want to find out, you want to know what it would feel like when touya stretches you out.
touya sees a different light in your eyes. you already look like a braindead whore before he has fucked you dumb. "you can take it, i'll make you take it."
he presses more into you and a broken moan leaves your swollen lips. now you can feel it, just how big and how hard he is. you had him down your throat before, he made your jaw ache and you know he would have your cunt feeling the same.
he groans, as wet as you are, your insides clamp down. your walls squeeze him before he has filled you completely. he made a point to not prep you, to not stretch you out. you do not know better to ask him to.
feeling you around him and seeing your watery eyes, your dewy lips moaning while he finally has you only makes him harder. it makes him want to cum deep inside you, fill you up until he is the only coherent thought in your head.
he reaches down to stroke your clit, the rough pads of his fingers make you mewl. he gives you no mercy, he keeps pushing more of his throbbing length within your walls. your hands scramble, fists gripping his jean jacket while you grit your teeth and whimper.
touya does not offer you any praise or words of consolation, he is more focused on shoving his cock inside you. he wants to feel your gummy walls all over him when he fills you to the hilt. you are soaking him, your cunt is hot and clamping down. every time you squeeze him he lowly grunts.
he does not even realise you are crying, you are silently sobbing. your eyes dart all over his features, you are looking at him but he is looking at his cock bullying your tight pussy.
this is how you lose your virginity, fucked like a dirty whore on a couch at a frat party. and the man who is taking you is not yours.
"holy fuck, you walk around with this tight as hell cunt between your legs and you think i could leave you alone?" he groans. he is not even all the way inside but he burns this image into his brain. your panties pulled to side and your pussy wrapped around his pulsing cock. you soak him in syrupy liquid, like you were waiting for him to claim you.
you grip him like you were made for him. he flips your skirt up to prevent it from obscuring his view and rough hands slip beneath your shirt to squeeze your barely there breasts.
he squeezes your tits, biting down on his lip before he thrusts hard and his entire length is forced into you. a shaky cry escapes you and your body trembles. your cunt is aching, it is stretched out for the first time and you feel unbearably full.
you should be mortified. touya violating you before was bad enough but this time you let him. you let him sink balls deep into your virgin pussy without any resistance.
and you are still crying because the man inside you has not even kissed. he is inside you but he has not shown you an ounce of kindness or affection.
"you're so fucking tight." his pelvis is flush to yours. touya did not prepare himself for this. his jaw clenches, why are you wrapped around him so perfectly? why does the feel of your cunt make him want to keep you on the end of his cock forever?
he is losing his bearings.
and you are too full to think. you feel him in your guts, you feel him too deep inside you. he has pulled you wide in a way you have never felt before.
"it hurts." your voice breaks, your chest is heaving and your grip on his clothing tightens. his eyes finally meet yours, he sees your brows knitted in distress, glassy eyes and tear streaked cheeks.
he was so caught up in your dripping fuck hole that he did not hear you crying.
"oh, aren't you just the prettiest thing?" his deep voice coos in a velvety tone.
he called you pretty. the prettiest.
he cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear but the motion is rough enough to leave your face stinging.
touya leans down to peck your lips. it is the first time he has kissed you. he pulls away, nudging your nose with his before a pretty smile crosses his face.
"your pussy feels like it was made for me. you were meant to take my cock, huh?"
he has your thigh pressed between his hard body and yours. your toes curl and your jaw hangs in a muted moan as he pulls his cock out. it is so slow you feel every inch and every pulsing vein.
when touya fucks into you for the first time it is gentle, your back arches as he fills you up all over again.
"just like that." his voice is deeper, more coated in something you cannot identify.
there is a flicker of hope that he will be this soft the entire time despite how roughly he filled you. after all, it is your first time.
you think someone like touya will finally grow a heart and find his morals.
"you're real fuckin' pretty, y'know? it's so annoying." he clicks his tongue, pushing your shirt up to reveal your breasts. plush lips wrap around your nipple and his heated tongue rolls it. his saliva feels hot on your skin.
his eyes find yours, they are dark as he laves his muscle over your tit. his hands are groping the flesh of your chest that barely fills his hands.
you jerk in surprise when his lips cover yours, this kiss is different. it is opened mouth and messy. you try to match his movements but you barely follow. touya kisses you aggressively, his tongue slipping into your mouth.
he should not be pleased by your teeth grazing his tongue but it only reminds him that he is all you know. he would always be all you know.
he has you distracted but your back tenses when his hips pull back and he harshly ruts into you. so hard your flesh sting where his hits yours.
your hands find his shoulders slipping on his jean jacket before you tightly grip the material.
he does not stop there. of course he does not.
he pumps his hips at a cruel pace, you are being stuffed with his cock over and over again. your back arches off the couch, you cry into his mouth but he does not relent.
he feels you dripping on him, he feels your slick coated along his length and every time he slams into you, you clench down like you will never let his cock go.
"this is what you wanted, right?" he grunts, his features contorting as he roughly fucks you.
"you wanted me to pin you down and rip through you. i know it, you know it. fuck that's it." his sentence ends with his voice at a higher pitch.
your hands lose their grip on his clothing as he straightens up, he cups the back of your knees to keep you spread open. his cock is throbbing at the sight of him taking you. over and over, he sees your syrupy strands coated on his cock, he sees your panties stained with it. he sees your pussy stretched around him and knows he would never go a day without thinking about it.
"knew your little pussy was aching for it. take it so fucking well."
when he is pounding your slick cunt, moaning about the way he swears your insides are stroking every vein on his thick length, you decide you hate him.
you wonder how someone so gorgeous could be so disgusting. you wonder what cruel juxtaposition it was for such an angelic countenance to be the one you see when it feels like the devil is ruining you.
you hate that you are enjoying it. you hate that it feels good.
you hate that at the end of this you will not regret it.
"you act like such a good girl but you take cock like it's all you were made for." sweat has started lining his hairline. his cheeks have reddened and touya's voice is breathy.
your skin is stinging from the force of his thrusts, his cock reaching deep in your guts with every motion.
the sounds of his flesh hitting yours fill the room, you can feel the weight of his balls meeting your skin and the mess between your legs splatters every time he fills you.
he huffs hard, his touches trail along your body, squeezing your hips and gliding along your stomach before they find your throat. his hands are so big they engulf your neck entirely.
"you like this, you fucking love it. fuck, tell me how much you like me rawing your virgin cunt like this." you whimper, your trembling fingers find his wrists.
you brain had turned into a scrambled mess the longer he fucks you open. your mouth is sticky with spit and all you can do is whine. he pounds into you so hard your body jerks every time.
some part of you wishes there was less clothing. less on him to see all his muscles flexing. less on you to feel him on you completely.
his expression switches between open mouthed groans and clenched jaws.
his cheeks are flushed, sweat drips down his temple and his fluffy hair bounces with his movements.
"touya." your voice warbles.
the moan he lets out is obscene. his cock slams into you unevenly.
he swears he loses it. he needs to hear you say his name like that again and again.
he crowds over you, his body flush to yours as he gathers you up into his arms. his lips finds yours in a sloppy kiss.
your hands rest on his back, feeling the ripples of his muscles as he roughly ruts into you.
your brows furrow, he only goes harder. it hurts but for some reason you like it.
he pants in your face before kissing you again. he pounds into you at a voracious pace, like an unhinged animal.
touya swears your hot, sticky walls gripping him are akin to heaven.
"fuck, fuck, fuck." a tandem of curses fill the room then he is burying his face into your neck. he lets out a low whine into your skin, his fingers reaching for your thighs and gripping hard enough to bruise.
his movements grow less steady but they are just as deep, his cock drags along every inch of your pussy like he is making it his home.
another muted whimper vibrates against your neck and with a few more pumps of his hips touya's cock throbs within you. he presses his pelvis flush to yours, your thighs tense at the feeling of hot cum flooding your walls.
you are panting and touya is too.
he drops all of his weight onto you, squeezing you tighter like he has not just ruined you.
you are horrified.
he did not wear a condom.
he came inside you.
you lay beneath him unmoving even as he laves his tongue over your breasts, even as he sucks marks across the flesh.
his hand grips your cheeks hard, urging your mouth open before his thumb strokes along your wriggling tongue.
you think he will kiss you but a sly grin plasters across his face and he spits into your mouth.
as the glob of saliva glides down your throat, he pulls out. you flinch at the feeling and his cum drips from your slit. you feel the mess leaking out of you.
touya pecks your lips because a man like him never faces any repercussions.
a man like him never thinks about the consequences of his actions.
"i'll bend you over next time." he has the same glimmer in his eyes from that night.
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haven't been on here or written in so long :/ my apologies
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birthedstars · 10 months
Text
“The Duchy”
Birth Parlors are an extremely exclusive, and extremely underground business that have begun cropping up due to this advance in technology. There were little to no limits as to what could happen here…as long as you had the money. A patron could spend millions on customization in a single night on a single labor & birth experience or even a full package Impregnation experience. The amount of money this business made was unprecedented for such a taboo.
“The Duchy” was one of the most popular and untouchable Parlors in the business. As long as there were no bodies to bury, the doors stayed open and workers stayed employed.
Millie, A petite woman with pale skin and red hair, cries out in her room. She was a newer worker here and this was her first labor and birth. Her large belly quivers as her patron raises the intensity of the orgasm function on his remote.
"Oh God, I'm gonna cum!" She said as she felt the pressure build in the base of her belly.
The man stroked his cock at the sight of the woman riding a dildo. "Yeah, pop for me, cmon!"
He specifically ordered to see an orgasmic labor and popping. That much Millie knew. Afterwards, a quick birth that he'd paid extra for Millie not to know about. Her entire body shook as she came and her waters burst around the thick dildo. She grasped her bump as it contracted hard.
“I-is there anything else you need sir?” Millie asked.
“Nah, part two is already starting,” the man groaned as he rubbed his cock.
Millie was about to ask what he meant, but a severe contraction took hold of her body. Her baby shot through her cervix as fast as lightning. Millie cried out and desperately hopped off the dildo, falling onto the room's couch. Instinctively, the young mother began pushing down on her unexpectedly fast coming baby.
“What did you order!” Millie shrieked as the big head forced open her tight pussy. Her whole body shook as the heavy babe spread her wide to the point she'd feel like she was going to tear.
Her pussy lips were drawn tightly around the head. The man smiled and jerked his cock as her labia strained to stay together. This is exactly what he'd paid millions for.
Kelcie, a more experienced birther next door, was groaning under the strain of labor and the need to cum.
Her body wasn't her own at this moment. It was this woman's, who rubbed her tits and throbbing clit endlessly.
“Let me give birth already,” Kelcie moaned softly. Her birth had been stalled at full crown for nearly an hour. Her affluent patron had her strapped up in a harness, legs spread and arms overhead for at least double that.
The woman caressed Kelcie's bump and tits hungrily with one hand and her fingers twisting Kelcies clit with the other.
“We still have so much time left, I want to savor you more,” the woman whispered.
Kelcie just let her head roll back and bear the brunt of the pain burning her pussy. Fluid squirted onto the ground around the big head. This wasn't the first time she had a birth stall, but god did she wish they'd turn off the pressure and pain sensitivity because it was maddening to push with no progress.
In a few rooms over, a group of white collar business men were hazing their new underling.
“We do this with all of the newbies, just gotta pump her full and enjoy the show,” one of the older guys said.
The young man stepped toward Zora, with his cock tenting through the zipper of his pants. Tense, he slowly thrusted his dick into Zora. His face scrunched as he felt her tight canal around him.
Zora trembled as the young man thrusted into her. It had to have been his first time with how hard he was trying not to cum within his first few thrusts. But it was no use, he came in huge, clearly pent up bursts of cum.
Zora had been pregnant before working at “The Duchy”, but she’d never experienced what was about to happen as the young man's seed took.
Her stomach bubbled, then began to swell. Swiftly and suddenly she felt her flat stomach rapidly grow from a pouch just below the navel to a giant round belly with a poked out belly button.
Zora's nails dug into the bed as the weight crashed onto her barely prepared body that still leaked cum. She gasped as her tits strained and leaked against her lingerie. Her legs flared out as the babe dropped into her pelvis. She groaned as her bump subtly twinged and movement fluttered beneath her palm.
Then, she felt a familiar pressure in the base of her taut stomach. Her stomach seized against her and then her waters burst onto the linen. Before she could process it, a huge head drove through her cervix.
“Too fast, too fast!” Zora shrieked.
As she cried out in pain, pushing on her rapidly grown baby, the salarymen jacked their dicks off at the sight of her. She pulled her legs back as the young man's baby quickly spread her pussy to a full crown. The burn encompassed her entire lower half.
Her back arched, poking her huge belly in the air. Zora shrieked as the huge babe popped out of her pussy in a rush of fluid. She fell into a heap on the bed, panting. The afterbirth didn't even have a chance to come out before the men started laughing and chatting again.The men then pushed another newbie forward.
In the basement, a large scale birth show was occurring. Dozens of patrons filled the seats, cheering and hollering as their entertainment spread their pussy wide for them.
Alex grasped their hands around the pole with a fully crowned head between their legs. Their low hanging belly, still full with three more babies, swayed stiffly as they bore down and sensually rotated their hips. They moaned in a showy manner despite their body dripping with sweat.
The patrons whistled as the quadruplet carrier slid up and down the pole. They pleasured themselves as fluid squirted around the shoulders and Alex moaned over the crowds clamoring. Their belly twisted and released in repetition until their first baby fell out of them, onto the cushioned floor of the stage.
The crowd shouted in celebration.
Alex's hand shot straight to their bump as one of the The Duchy employees gathered the child. The second baby was ready to make its rapid descent.
“Oh god, the second baby is comiiing!” Alex moaned into their mic. They slid down the pole and got onto their hands and knees. Their huge belly grazed the ground as they shook their ass. Soon after their waters burst for the second time in the night, making the crowd go wild.
Riley, “The Duchy"s owner watched from the box booth above the amphitheater as she rubbed her own swelling twin belly. She could hardly bear watching her beautiful workers have all of the fun. This was how she made her money and she wouldn't have it any other way.
But, she definitely needed to add some more new hands to the roster. People were becoming insatiable for new content. Time for a recruitment rally.
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bussyslayer333 · 4 months
Text
‘cause you’re so smooth
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summary: phoenix invites the boys to her salsa class, big mistake.
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader
word count: 3k+
warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, suggestive nature lols, me not knowing anything about salsa
my return to writing with a fic i teased over a year ago!! i hope you all enjoy
ps requests r open :p
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“Nix, if you think I want to spend my Sunday evening learning to salsa dance with a bunch of soccer moms then I think your concussion hasn’t healed properly.” Jake sasses in response to Nat’s invitation.
“Yeah, I’m sorry Nat but Sunday is my chill out day, when else am I gonna beat Fitch’s ass on cod?” Fanboy reasons.
Natasha knew it was a stretch asking the boys to join her salsa dancing class, but she thought it was important for them to get out more. At the moment, seemingly all they did was trudge from work to the Hard Deck over and over again.
She sighs, “it would be good for you guys to get out more, y’know?”
“I’ll go, Nat,” Bob smiles, nodding to her from where he is perched on a stool behind her.
“Thank you, Bob.” Nat nods back to him, “the rest of you can suck it.”
“Hey!” Bradley yells as he appears back from the bar, beers in tow, “what did we say about using that type of language?”
“Shut up Dadley,” Nat rolls her eyes as Bradley flicks his tongue out before handing her a beer.
“As much as I’d truly love to attend that class ‘Nix, I’m already a salsa pro and I wouldn’t want you to feel embarrassed about your skills,” Bradley declares, before taking an obnoxious sip of his beer.
“Yeah fuckin’ right, and my dad is prima ballerina,” Jake snorts.
“Let’s not discredit Papa Seresin, I saw him tear Boogie Wonderland up at your sister’s wedding.” Coyote nods.
“Yeah and even that shit was better than what Rooster could pull off,” Jake decides.
Bradley only shrugs at the jibe, a lazy smirk plastered onto his face, which serves only to piss Jake off more.
“Dance off?” Fanboy proposes, standing to head to the jukebox.
“No?” Jake frowns.
Fanboy drops back to his seat with a sigh, “was worth a shot.”
Nat shakes her head with a snort and brings the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“Look it’s fine, I’m just saying I think you guys would enjoy it!” She reasons.
“I’m sure it’ll be fun!” Bob adds happily.
Nat can only sigh at the lack of response.
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Bob is already waiting outside the community centre when Nat arrives, looking down and nervously picking at a thread on the bottom of his gym shorts.
“You ready?” Nat questions, trying to alleviate his nerves.
When Bob looks up his brows unfurl and he lets a small smile sip onto his face.
“Yeah, sure, let’s do this!” He pumps his fist a little awkwardly.
Nat can only chuckle in response as she makes her way to the room at the left of the reception where the class is held. You’re stood by the door chatting with one of the older women in your class when Nat comes into your view.
“Natasha! How’s my best student?” You tease, stepping towards her.
“I’m great, thanks!” Nat blushes before gesturing to Bob, “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend.”
Bob sucks in a breath as you finally lock eyes with him. Shit. You were beautiful and those leggings were doing you an undoubted amount of favours.
Sadly, Bob had an incredibly annoying habit he was unable to shake. It was known as “embarrassing himself in front of beautiful women” and that seemed to strike him just as you stuck your manicured hand out to shake his own.
The breath that Bob had sucked in caught in his throat which was drying up increasingly as he took you in, leading to an unprecedented coughing fit doubling him over. What seemed to make it worse was your shocked gasp and immediate move to lean over him and pay his back gently. Bob tried not to focus on your cleavage directly next to his face and instead on regulating his breathing. It was proving difficult, especially when he could hear Nat cackling at his misfortune from behind him.
Once almost fully back to normal, you squeeze his bicep and chuckle,
“I don’t think I’ve ever quite literally taken someone’s breath away!” You giggle, voice oh so sweet.
Bob can’t even let himself feel embarrassed with the way your soft hand feels on his arm.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he cringes.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile reassuringly.
Nat is growing seemingly agitated by Bob’s lingering near the door so she steers him forwards away from you.
“Best get set up!” She announces, dragging him into the room.
The classroom is spacious, a high ceiling and large windows on the left wall. The wall facing the door is covered in mirrors that amplify the light in the area.
Before Bob can speak up again, two men who look to be in their late 40s rush over towards Natasha. They’re the complete opposite of one another, the first who reaches for Natasha is tanned and has dark curling hair with flecks of grey throughout.
“Natasha! Darling it is so great to see you!” He exclaims with a slight accent, holding her hand in his.
The other has embraced the grey in his hair, he’s relatively pale but has clearly kept his physique, he nods towards Bob with a glint of something in his eye, “I thought he wasn’t your type?”
Nat snorts, clueing Bob in finally on what the two men were hinting at.
“My best friend, boys don’t worry,” she teases.
“Thank God, I’ve been trying to set you up with my niece for how long now?” The dark haired man smiles.
“I know, I’m sorry, I’m always busy at the moment,” she shrugs apologetically before turning back to Bob, “Bob this is Marco and Luke.”
They both shake his hand and size him up as they do so, the grey haired one (Luke) declares.
“He’s cute, Nat, where have you been hiding him?” He prods.
Bob exhales at the approval and watches as Nat breaks out into laughter. “Away from you!”
Marco and Luke break into laughter alongside Nat and Bob can’t help himself but join. Just as they’re all catching their breath, Bob jumps out of his skin again as he feels his hand on his shoulder.
“Boys, we’re being welcoming to our newcomer aren’t we?” You hum.
Your hip is touching Bob’s and the soft skin of your hand on his shoulder has him malfunctioning, luckily he isn’t forced into replying (or choking) this time.
“Of course we are beautiful, what do you think of us?” Marco gasps in faux shock.
“I think that I know what you two are like,” you roll your eyes before making your way to the front of the room.
You send Bob a sly wink before finally beginning, “It’s so great to see you all again!”
Everyone in the room blurts out greetings at you as you begin, “We’ll continue on from last week,” you strut over to the stereo in the corner and a latin pop track floats out into the room and Bob vaguely recognises the tune.
Marco and Luke are quick to start fluidly moving around the floor space and Bob notices that others in the room are doing the same. You make your way quickly over to him and place your hand on the small of his back, straightening his posture.
“I don’t expect you to get it immediately,” you smile into his ear, “we’ll start off with some basics and turn variations.”
Bob hopes you can’t see the nervous perspiration already forming on the back of his neck and nods a little too eagerly at your words. He looks back to Nat for some encouragement but she’s already dancing and chatting with a group of women next to the tall windows.
“I don’t bite,” You giggle, shocking Bob who looks back to see you holding your hand out for him to grab onto.
“Sorry, I’m not the best dancer-” Bob’s self depreciation is swiftly disrupted by you placing his hand on your waist and the other in your own.
“All the more for me to work with,” you smile, and Bob feels himself smiling back.
Although a tad clunky, Bob manages not to step on your toes and has some surprisingly fluid hip movement which intrigues you ever so slightly.
By the last ten minutes of the class, Bob is twirling Marco around as Luke and Nat chat to you about technique.
“What were you nervous about?” Marco probes Bob, “you’re a natural!”
Bob can only chuckle shyly in response and he glances over at your frame. Marco seems to notice Bob’s longing glances and slowly stops their dance.
“Go for it.”
“What?” Bob splutters.
“She’s been making googoo eyes at you the whole time mister, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”
Bob reels for a moment at Marcos admission before straightening up. “You think?”
Marco rolls his eyes. “I know.”
Before Bob can reach you you’re already strutting back towards the stereo to lower the volume of the music and gather everyone’s attention.
“Thank you so much everyone! You’ve all been brilliant today and I can’t wait to see you next week!” You beam at everyone.
People begin to gather to chat and start to disperse and you begin to gather your own belongings, stopping to make conversation with others as you do so. Luke and Nat join Bob and Marco with sly smirks on their faces.
“So…” Nat begins, “You’ll be coming back next week I presume?”
Bob flushes at Nat’s knowing look. “Yeah,” he looks to you, “definitely.”
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Bob didn’t mean to let it slip. Like seriously, his lips were so sealed. Air tight.
“But HOW hot are we talking?” Mickey slurs over the nth shot he’d done with Bob at the Hard Deck’s happy hour.
So maybe not air tight.
It was Thursday evening and the rest of the daggers had politely declined drinks with Fanboy, but Bob (the ever dutiful friend) had accepted, hoping to be in and out within the hour. But alas, here they were.
“Fuckin’ smoking,” Bob mimes an explosion with his hands as Mickey nods enthusiastically to his answer.
“I choked on air when I saw her and almost popped a boner during a Justin Timberlake song,” Bob continues to ramble, once given the chance to talk about you he clearly wasn’t going to stop.
“And when is this class?” Mickey slumps closer to Bob, tequila breath hot on his neck.
“Ummmm, Sunday evening at 6 I think?” Bob nods, remembering the details Nat had sent him in a text the week previous.
“Good to know,” Mickey hums, reaching his hand forward to signal for another round, knocking someone’s drink over in the process. “Oops.”
Bob is quick to drag Mickey away from the bar top after that, realising they’d probably overdone it a tad for a weekday evening.
As the cool sea breeze hits Bob’s flushed face whilst him and Mickey wait outside the Hard Deck for their uber, he can’t help but let his mind drift to you, what you were potentially up to, do you teach other classes during the week? Do you dance professionally? God, you definitely could, the way your hips moved-
Bob shook his head, as if to get the image of you stuck in his mind out. He looked to Mickey hanging off of his arm, he was looking to the ground and shaking as if to stave off the imminent vomit that was about to leave his mouth any second now.
“Let’s get you home man,” Bob pats Mickey on the head, dragging him towards their Uber pulling up.
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“Hey, Bob!” Nat yells across the parking lot, catching the back of her friend’s tall frame leant against a pillar near the front of the community center.
When Bob turns around, Nat notices two people next to him who she was not expecting to see.
“Fitch? Fanboy?” Nat cocks her head to the side. “I thought you guys were too busy to come?”
Nat’s accusatory eyes meet Bob’s sheepish expression as he awkwardly clears his throat.
“We heard the teacher was hot as fuck.” Payback shrugs.
Fanboy giggles next to him in excitement, “I’ve been practicing-”
“Bob I swear-” Natasha begins, finger pointing right into Bob’s chest.
“Sup, biatches!” Jake yells, alerting everyone of his and Javy’s presence. “Who’s ready to get their salsa on?”
Nat spins around on her heel, eyes shooting daggers into Jake and Javy.
“Bob, I’m going to kill you.” She states, eerily calm.
“Oh come on Phe! You wanted us here just last week!” Jake exclaims, walking round to slap Bob on the shoulder and greet Payback and Fanboy behind him.
“Yeah! When I wanted you guys to get out and do something productive! Not fuck my lovely salsa teacher, who by the way, was not socialised by wolves! So will absolutely not be charmed by any of you fools!”
With that, Nat turns and walks into the community center, leaving the boys to sprint in after her.
“At least this can’t get any worse,” Nat mutters to herself, pulling the door to your studio open.
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“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nat stills in the doorway, the rest of the boys behind her peeking their heads in.
“What now?” Bob asks guiltily.
Nat opens the door fully and allows the men behind her to file into the studio, where her fellow classmates are stood in a semi circle whooping and hollering at you dancing in the middle with none other than Bradley Bradshaw.
“Fucking Bradshaw,” Jake scoffs, pushing his way ahead whilst checking himself out in the full length mirrors that line the opposite wall of the room.
“Chicken never told us he could dance!” Jake yells over the latin music filling the room, successfully interrupting your dance with Bradley.
Bradley’s head whips to the side at the sound of that familiar ear grating voice. He gives you an apologetic look as he walks over to begin squabbling with a man you presume he knows. The commotion between the boys alerts you to the presence of Natasha and Bob as well as three other unfamiliar men. When Bradley had introduced himself with a smirk and a drawling voice as a friend of Natasha’s you had to wonder whether all of her colleagues were so handsome and by the looks of it, they were.
Nat is quick to walk over to you with an apologetic smile. “I want to apologise in advance for the next hour. They are insufferable.”
You look behind her to where the gaggle of men she calls her close friends are stood, you can see Marco and Luke itching to get their claws in and you have to giggle. This should be interesting.
After instructing the rest of your class to continue practicing the routine you had been working on, you figure it was only fair to come and personally consult your newest joiners.
As the boys (and Nat) notice you wandering towards them, they all begin to elbow each other like school boys giggling amongst themselves. Bob and Nat can only keep their embarrassment internal for so long.
When you come to a stop in front of them, the man you’ve come to learn as Jake smiles dazzlingly and stretches his arms above his head,
“God it is hot in here!” He begins to reach for the bottom of his shirt, aiming to impress you with his toned stomach.
“The A/C is on full blast dumbass.” Nat swats at the back of Jake’s head, causing him to drop his shirt again and rub at his temple. “Ow!”
Snickers fall from Javy and Mickey, who quickly straighten themselves up when they see you casting your eyes over them.
“As I said to Bob last week, with all my new starters I’ll begin with some basics for you guys and then we can ease into a routine,” you smile, heading towards Bradley and Nat.
“Since you two already have some experience you can help me teach!”
Bradley preens under your praise, already assuming the role of teacher’s pet, whilst Nat looks mildly irritated at having to teach her imbecilic friends how to dance.
“Alright guys! let’s partner up!” you shout at them, giggling as they all rush towards you, you note how Bob lingers back behind his more extroverted friends and grin.
“I should clarify, I meant with each other.” You shoo them backwards and watch as they couple up.
Mickey and Reuben clap each other on the back and Javy and Jake nod at one another leaving Bob, stood on his own. You saunter towards him and grab at arm, dragging him to the front with you.
“Looks like you’re with me,” you tease.
“Uh, who do you want me to partner up with?” Bradley scratches at his head obliviously.
You cock your head to the side with a confused laugh.
“I hate you so much right now,” Nat spews, gripping Bradley’s arm and pulling him into position with her.
“Oh, yeah. Right, sorry Nat.” Bradley chuckles.
Your lessons continues with explaining how someone will have to take the lead and the other will follow, and you wander around positioning their hands and postures correctly.
“Javy, you are like a brother to me, but your hands are too fucking low right now.” Jake grits through this teeth.
“Right! Ha, sorry man,” Javy’s hands shoots back up towards the middle of Jake’s back.
Bob is still apprehensive when he places his hands on your waist, but you’re quick to affirm him in his position. Leaning towards him you whisper, “don’t worry you’re still my favourite.”
A smile graces his face at that and he relaxes in your grip.
“Right guys! We’re gonna start with some turns and variations now!”
You quickly learn that trying to wrangle these men is proving difficult, as Payback almost spins Fanboy into a wall after zoning out stating at how your hips moved.
“I’m good bro, don’t worry,” Mickey is quick to readjust himself, hoping the room stops spinning soon.
You can’t help but laugh when Javy attempts to dip Jake to the floor in a move he thought would impress you, but it seems he forgot to account for how tall and heavy Jake is, as he goes toppling down with him.
“Fuck dude! You’re heavy!” Javy groans, rubbing his knee. Jake clearly didn’t take kindly to his words as he shoves back at Javy childishly.
“Boys! Come on get up!” You snap, trying to sound stern but still fighting off giggles.
Jake and Javy are quick to get back on their feet, but you catch them in your peripheral poking and pinching each other when they think you aren’t looking.
Even Bradley who was so light on his feet when he was showing you his moves earlier, is clearly distracted, constantly stepping on Nat’s feet as they practice variations.
“If you step on my toe one more time, Rooster I swear to God, you will not see daylight again,” Nat threatens.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! She’s just so…” Bradley trails off as he watches you dance slowly with Bob, stopping every now and then to correct him kindly or answer questions from others in your class.
“I know! And you guys are scaring her off by acting crazy.” Nat sighs, moving back as she senses Bradley’s feet heading for her toes again.
“I mean I wouldn’t say crazy…” Bradley scratches the back of his neck.
“Well I walked in to see you spinning her around like you’re a pro on dancing with the stars so maybe you should reevaluate.”
“You think I’m that good?” Bradley smirks to himself.
“Oh shut up,” Nat rolls her eyes and looks back to the rest of her friends around the room.
Payback and Fanboy were continually stumbling around in circles as they each try to catch your eye, pissing off everyone else in the room as they bumped and knocked into others. She caught Marco and Luke’s judgy eyes flicking back and forth between her and her friends and groaned.
Jake and Javy looked either one wrong move away from fucking or fighting, Nat couldn’t really tell.
God this was embarrassing.
Luckily, your voice rings out across the room, interrupting her moping.
“Thank you guys for today! And Thank you to my newcomers!” you gesture to the group of men stumbling over each other and stifle a laugh.
“I’ll see you all next week!”
Your regular attenders start filing out slowly, some coming over to chat and collect their things. You can see Nat trying to drag her friends away out they seem intent on lingering long enough to catch some time alone with you.
“You guys might as well go, she clearly wants me.” Jake shrugs, pulling the front of his shirt up to wipe his face.
Mickey is quick to dispute, “Are you kidding me? I twirled like a ballerina, I’m so in.”
Nat is moments away from body slamming her friends who she once loved when it goes silent around her. She figures you finally made you way over.
“Hey guys, thanks so much for joining today! I’m really sorry I’ve got to get going but um- ”
You pause and sense eyes on you.
“Bob, I was just wondering if I could get your number?” you smile, walking towards him and squeezing his arm. “You know, to talk about how we can improve your technique,” your reasoning clear as day even with your coverup
“Yeah! Yes, of course I mean,” Bob composes himself, taking your phone with shaking hands and typing in his number.
“Great,” you wink, retrieving your phone, “I’ll text you.”
You end with that, sauntering past the group and waving goodbye to Nat with a knowing look.
Everyone seems stunned by your words, but mostly Bob who blinks slowly, seemingly still in shock by your acknowledgement.
Nat finally breaks into laughter, doubling over at the confused faces of her other friends.
“Man!” She shouts through her giggles, “you just cannot make that shit up!”
The grumbles around her don’t even phase her as she goes to pick up her bag and head for the door, a group of downtrodden looking men following her and Bob with a newfound pep in his step.
“By the way Rooster, how come you actually are so good?” Nat asks as they make their way into the parking lot.
Bradley stills, silent as he contemplates answering.
“If I tell you, you have to promise to not go searching for anything.” He looks around at his friends.
Following their nods he continues, “I used to compete professionally, when I was like 13, my mom forced me to.” Bradley cringes at the memory of his tween self in sparkly shirts his mom always hand picked out for him in the most hideous colours.
Bradley looks back up to see Jake grinning mischievously at his phone, and his stomach drops.
“Is this you?” Jake smirks, turning his phone around to show everyone an old video on youtube titled.
SALSA NATIONALS 1999 - BRADSHAW / DONNA SUMMER HOT STUFF
Bob suddenly felt as though his coughing fit over you wasn’t the most embarrassing thing he had to witness anymore.
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a/n: it is great to be back gang xx i’ve missed writing and ofc i had to bring back the bob agenda!! it’s what i stand for :) i’m thinking mayhaps a part 2 where i explore the dynamic between sexy salsa teacher and bob bc atm this was just a chance for me to make fun of the daggers 😣
i hope you enjoyed reading and tysm!!
pls reblog, comment or drop me an ask and tell me what you thought!! feedback means sm to me considering i’m a lil rusty
anyways thank u again for reading!!!!
- honey xoxo
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teamatsumu · 1 year
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how GoM react to you wearing their jersey to a game
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-> AOMINE DAIKI:
You knew he wouldn't show up to the game, as per usual. But this time would be different.
This time, while you stood over his lazy, napping form on the school roof, you had promised him that if he showed up, there would be a surprise waiting for him.
That caught his attention, as you knew it would. He was skeptical on the inside though. What could possibly be good enough to make him stay for a whole game, start to finish?
He did not expect to hear you scream his name from the stands during warm ups, breath hitching when he caught sight of you in his jersey.
You had put it on over your sweater, grinning wide as you pointed at the number and mouthed ‘surprise’. It made aomine blink and gulp.
You had worn his clothes before, but never his jersey. He felt his skin tingle in a foreign feeling of possessiveness. That was his number on your chest.
Aomine turned around and walked to the coach. “Put me in at the beginning of the game.”
His teammates gawked at him. Aomine? Willing to play? No, not just willing. Eager. This was unprecedented.
You however, were giggling in the stands, knowing exactly what his motivation to play today was.
-> KISE RYOTA:
Kise’s fans often showed up in his jersey number for games, giggling and squealing in the stands and saying his name to get his attention during warm ups. But you, you were different.
For one, you were dating. For another, you weren’t just wearing a jersey with his number on it. You were wearing his personal jersey. Tailored to him and swimming over your small frame.
You grinned when he noticed the jersey on you before the game in the hallway. He bit his lip and hid a smile.
“You wore it for me?” He tilted his head, trying to hold back from cooing all over you. You looked so cute.
“Yeah. To support you. I see all your fans do it.” You shrugged like it was no big deal. It was a big deal though, at least to Kise.
He stepped forward and smacked a sloppy kiss on your cheek, made you squeal and wipe it off in mock disgust. It didn’t bother Kise though. He was on cloud nine just looking at you wearing his clothes.
-> MIDORIMA SHINTARO:
His brain short circuits when he sees you.
Next, a million thoughts hit him all at once.
First of all, how did you even get your hands on his jersey? And how had he not noticed a missing jersey from his closet?
(You were sneaky and crafty usually, so it wasn’t too surprising)
Second of all, how did orange look so good on you?
“What is the meaning of this?” He scowls at you, making you giggle and skip closer to him. Midorima fought to keep a straight face. You were glowing.
“I know you have your lucky object with you,” you eyed the humongous hourglass figurine in his hand. “But I thought it would be nice to have a little extra luck.”
He felt his lips twitch, the muscles of his shoulders relax. He hadn’t realized he was about to walk out to court while being so stiff.
He pouted at you and looked away when he caught your teasing gaze, looking away with heated cheeks. “Thanks for the luck.”
You giggled again and planted a kiss on his jaw, turning around to the hall which lead to the stands.
“See you after the game, Shin.” You called back. Midorima allowed his lips to tilt upwards as he watched you leave.
-> MURASAKIBATA ATSUSHI:
I’m gonna say it, he doesn’t think it’s too big a deal.
Not the jersey itself, but he is more affected by the fact that you’re wearing his clothes at all. Because they are huge on you.
You’re swimming in it, dwarfed by the sheer amount of fabric. If he didn’t like the look so much, he would laugh.
But he loved it. Loved seeing you in the stands, perking up and grinning at him whenever he looked up at you and met your eyes.
The white and purple looked great on you, made you stand out in the crowd and put you in the center of his vision. What a view to have during the game.
Him putting in more effort on the court was all because it made you cheer for him and stand taller. He could give less of a shit about the actual game or the end result.
Rest assured, he will be subtly hinting at you to wear more of his clothes, jersey or otherwise.
-> AKASHI SEIJUROU:
Akashi’s actions make it abundantly clear that he is very territorial of you.
You are his. No one else has rights to you the way he does.
Now imagine him seeing you at a game, which he knows is also being attended by his peers, underclassmen, opponents and other acquaintances, knowing you are in his jersey.
His number on your chest and back, his school colors enveloping your frame.
Everyone would know you were his. And that sense of power made him feel things.
His piercing gaze finds you in the stands, the uptick of his lips and the satisfied look on his face was enough for you to squirm. Oh he liked what he saw.
He gives you a harsh kiss in the hall when the game ends, and an approving once over that fills you with glee.
With zero words, Akashi has ensured that you would show up to all his games from now on with his jersey on your back.
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As a Jewish advocate for Palestinian rights, let me tell you something. I’m fucking hurting right now.
I hate Hamas because they have made the plight of Palestinians so much worse with their actions in that now even fewer people will be willing to acknowledge their 70 years of suffering.
I hate that they will be used as an excuse to demonize all Palestinians, and the US is already upping their already astronomical military funding for Israel.
I hate that they’ve committed unforgivable violence in the name of a cause that is just.
I hate the Israeli government and the IDF for creating the conditions for this tragedy and countless others stretching back to the Nakba.
I hate how they have perverted my culture into a settler-colonial ideology and perpetrated on the Palestinians the very kinds of pogroms my own family fled Europe to escape.
I hate that so many Jews in Israel and throughout the diaspora face ostracism from their communities and families for speaking out against the atrocities Israel has been committing against Palestinians.
I especially hate how many of my fellow Jews have bought into an ideology that can handwave the bulldozing of homes and schools, the imprisonment of children, the bombing of residential homes, the displacement, the massacres. Virtually all things we have suffered as Jews at points in our history.
My heart aches for the innocent people murdered across the board - no matter who the bombs came from. Even though part of me thinks settlers aren’t innocent, what can you really do if you just happened to be born there? And even if you moved to Israel, do you really deserve to die? No.
But neither do all the children in the Gaza Strip currently being bombed in a revenge attack that, with the denial of food, water, and medical aid, violates the Geneva convention.
But to everyone who is posting now about Israel and these “unprecedented tragedies” - yes, these are tragedies, and my heart is so heavy with them. But they are not unprecedented. Where were you when the same things were happening to Palestinians for decades upon decades? There’s a monumental amount of video evidence of atrocities against Palestinians, but somehow people have managed to miss all of that. If you’re only paying attention to the suffering of certain people, ask yourself why.
If you’re only now posting about “of course Palestinians should be free” in posts primarily about mourning the killing of Israelis, where were your voices before now? Those of us trying to organize and fight for Palestinian human rights could have used you.
If more people had spoken out against our government’s support of what Amnesty International and countless other human rights organizations have called an apartheid regime, who knows what could have been possible.
Edit: Since this is getting a little traction, I wanted to leave these links here. Both are very reputable organizations that are providing humanitarian aid:
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The following are all undeniable facts:
The judge donated money — a tiny amount, $35, but in plain violation of a rule prohibiting New York judges from making political donations of any kind — to a pro-Biden, anti-Trump political operation, including funds that the judge earmarked for “resisting the Republican Party and Donald Trump’s radical right-wing legacy.” Would folks have been just fine with the judge staying on the case if he had donated a couple bucks to “Re-elect Donald Trump, MAGA forever!”? Absolutely not.
District Attorney Alvin Bragg ran for office in an overwhelmingly Democratic county by touting his Trump-hunting prowess. He bizarrely (and falsely) boasted on the campaign trail, “It is a fact that I have sued Trump over 100 times.”
The charges against Trump are obscure, and nearly entirely unprecedented. In fact, no state prosecutor — in New York, or Wyoming, or anywhere — has ever charged federal election laws as a direct or predicate state crime, against anyone, for anything. None. Ever.
Standing alone, falsification charges would have been mere misdemeanors under New York law, which posed two problems for the DA. First, nobody cares about a misdemeanor, and it would be laughable to bring the first-ever charge against a former president for a trifling offense that falls within the same technical criminal classification as shoplifting a Snapple and a bag of Cheetos from a bodega. Second, the statute of limitations on a misdemeanor — two years — likely has long expired on Trump’s conduct, which dates to 2016 and 2017.
So, to inflate the charges up to the lowest-level felony (Class E, on a scale of Class A through E) — and to electroshock them back to life within the longer felony statute of limitations — the DA alleged that the falsification of business records was committed “with intent to commit another crime.” Here, according to prosecutors, the “another crime” is a New York State election-law violation, which in turn incorporates three separate “unlawful means”: federal campaign crimes, tax crimes, and falsification of still more documents. Inexcusably, the DA refused to specify what those unlawful means actually were — and the judge declined to force them to pony up — until right before closing arguments. So much for the constitutional obligation to provide notice to the defendant of the accusations against him in advance of trial. (This, folks, is what indictments are for.)
In these key respects, the charges against Trump aren’t just unusual. They’re bespoke, seemingly crafted individually for the former president and nobody else.
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