#they’re adulterers

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.

[chelseeebe]

just wanna (get with you).

okkkk i promise i am not neglecting promise (i am) but i just had to get this out before the thought left my mind. this is just to say nancy wheeler i love you and i’m sorry

18+. smut. steve is an adulterer. but it’s okieee bc it’s hot <3

this is very much richboy!steve, he is very cocky and brash and very much not afraid of it

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

you had prepared to spend thanksgiving break alone in your room, honestly quite happy not to have to go home and deal with your car crash of a family.

that was until stacy had caught wind of your lonely plans and interjected, offering you an invite to her family’s massive home. now, it’d be rude not to accept, right?

you totally weren’t influenced by the fact that her older brother would definitely be there, not at all.

the drive up was a long slog, hours until you ended up in the middle of buttfuck indiana. it’s not somewhere you ever envisioned yourself spending the holidays but she had ensured that it was nice enough. her parents were.. interesting but as you were there, they’d probably at least try to keep up appearances. there wasn’t much else going on but in this tiny town but it gave you a chance to relax and ogle her brother.

their house is huge, like, ridiculously big. much bigger than their small family needed. from what stacy has confided in you, you can gather that her parents are hardly even home. they like to make a big deal about holidays to give the impression of a well put together family but if anything, they’re on the brink of divorce and only holding it together for the fear of being seen as failures.

not that your family are much better, but at least they don’t pretend to like eachother.

steve is up at the door the moment stacy unlocks it, waiting to see which of her sorority friends she’d decided to bring along.

he grins the second he sees you, taking your bag out of your hand and introducing himself before you can even begin to speak. not that you mind.

‘leave her alone, steve,’ stacy warns, rolling her eyes as she begins up the stairs, motioning for you to follow.

‘why don’t you leave me alone? i’m just being a good host, isn’t that right?’ he smiles at you, lugging your bag up the extravagant staircase and toward the room you’ve been assigned.

it’s not as if there’s a lack of them, a multitude of white doors that probably sat empty. it’s incredible how a house could cost so much and yet lack character despite the ample space to decorate.

she shoves him out of the way the second you make it into the room, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘uh uh,’ he’s smirking now and it’s making your heart feel funny. it’s wrong, totally wrong. but you can’t help it.

when he’d appeared on move in day you’d been star struck, his caramel coloured hair flopping into his eyes and the way his t-shirt clung to his arms had caught you immediately.

you and the rest of the girls in the house, obviously.

‘well go and find something to do you fucking loser,’ pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

you couldn’t exactly tell her that it was fine and actually you preferred if he stayed.. so you grin and give her a fake chuckle, looking around at the room you were to call home for the next week.

‘i’m sorry,’ she sighs, ‘ignore him.. he’s just like that,’ walking over to the pristine bed. it obviously hadn’t been slept in for a while, you don’t doubt that they rarely have guests.

‘it’s okay,’ you smile, exhilarated for what this week will bring.

-

you don’t see much of the illusive mr. harrington, burrowed away in his office for most of the day with his wife busying around the kitchen, putting on an unnecessarily large spread each day. now you’re not a psychologist but even you can gather that she’s trying to make up for something.

stacy had bundled you into her room under the pretence of studying, both of you sat on her bed with neglected open books. opting to gossip about shit in your house rather than the looming finals.

steve knocks on the door and rushes in without waiting, standing in the doorway with a devilish grin. ‘mom’s drunk again.. you two wanna get out of here before it gets ugly?’ leaning against the doorframe.

he looks extra good today, his grey sweatpants sitting just right. you’re mindful to pull your eyes away when he nears the bed though his eyes never leave you.

‘like what?’ stacy frowns, sitting up and closing the untouched book.

‘i dunno..’ he shrugs, ‘i just don’t wanna be here when he gets back and she’s drunk again,’ fiddling with some trinket on stacy’s shelf.

you can tell that stacy’s not keen on the idea but she doesn’t want to be here for that scene either. you can empathise entirely, which is the exact reason you decided not to go home.

‘okay,’ she turns to you, ‘you okay with that?’

‘yeah.. sounds good,’ smiling at your friend. in your peripheral, you can see steve’s lips twitch into a smirk, cocky bastard.

much to your dismay, the three of you end up bowling. which you wouldn’t usually mind, but the alley was full to the brim with parents and their screaming children, running around the lanes hyped up on copious amounts of sugar.

not to mention the blaring christmas music that was entirely too loud for a tuesday afternoon.

‘you bowl much?’ steve scoots over on the bench, leaning in to whisper of the screeching kids.

‘not really,’ shaking your head innocently, ‘do you?’

‘yeah i’m alright.. i can teach you, if you want?’ ever the opportunist. who were you to deny him that?

‘okay,’ you giggle, blinking up at his chocolate coloured eyes.

it’s pathetic but your knees almost crumble when he walks up behind you, arms coming to envelope yours, large hands perched over yours as stacy tuts and turns away.

‘like this..’ his chest presses against your back, pulling your arm back and letting the ball roll down the lane.

you very nearly groan when he pulls away, hand lingering on your elbow as the pair of you watch the pins knock over. he smiles gently at you without even looking at the pins, he’s already sure he’d won.

‘thanks,’ you nod, keeping your own smile contained as you walk back to the bench, squishing in next to a less than impressed stacy. she’s not stupid but doesn’t dare to say anything and you’re grateful for that at least.

you watch steve take his turn, wondering how much longer you can feign incompetence to get him to touch you.

-

their house is quiet when you get back. eerily quiet. stacy and steve share a look before heading inside and you already know to prepare for the worst.

mr. harrington is sat facing the blank television, sipping on a small glass of what you presume is whiskey. the fire blazing in front of him, crackling loudly in the otherwise silent house.

‘your mother’s in bed,’ is all he says, refusing to turn around to face his children. he’s a stoic man at the best of times but seemed extra cold tonight. you don’t want to think about what had happened while you were out.

the atmosphere brings you crashing down out of your high, the loud bowling alley seemed like a dream compared to the moody room you stood in. at least your family were entertaining in all their madness. this was just depressing and you don’t have to wonder just why stacy is the way she is now.

steve slinks off upstairs without saying a word and stacy follows, head ducked down. they’ve probably been through this exact routine a hundred times before. you follow along silently, assuming that mr. harrington definitely didn’t want you hanging around downstairs.

before stacy slips away into her room, you grab onto her elbow, pulling her round to face you, ‘my mom drinks too.. i know what it’s like,’ offering some meek words of encouragement. it’s not a lot but you can empathise with the sinking feeling you know she’s feeling.

she gives you a small smile, pulling you in for a quick hug as the shower starts in the bathroom to your left. steve hadn’t hung around, disappearing before you even made it up the stairs.

‘night,’ you mutter before entering your own room.

there had been a tiny part of you that had hoped maybe tonight something would happen but with the scene downstairs and steve’s eagerness to get away, you doubt it.

-

there’s an almost silent knock at your door, if you were any sleepier, you would’ve missed it.

you know who it is.. what’s waiting on the other side of that door and for a second, you contemplate it. you could very easily turn over and drift off to sleep without ever finding out what could’ve been.. but, you’re not going to do that. not after you’d optimistically worn your best pajamas, dousing yourself in perfume before you had climbed into bed.

sliding out of the bed to open the door quietly and just as you expected, steve is on the other side with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

he doesn’t speak before stepping into the room, shutting the door gently as you stand expectantly before him. your heart is pounding, it’d jump out of your chest if it could.

‘steve,’ you barely whisper, ignoring the growing ache between your thighs. enthralled by the sheer tension in the room, it makes the air heavy, weighing on your shoulders as you practically pant at him.

in one quick move he’s stood in front of you, hands cradling your waist, confidence oozing off of his smile. his hair is still wet, falling onto his face perfectly. it’s almost cruel that someone could look so good so effortlessly.

‘i need you,’ he whispers, his spider-like lashes cascading a shadow over his face in the dull light. he’s so perfect it hurts.

you choose not to reply with words, hastily planting your lips on his, closing the minuscule gap between your bodies as your chest presses to his. you’re walked backwards towards the bed, the excitement is palpable, his hands barely able to contain themselves as they grip and squeeze your flesh.

steve falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you atop of him, clumsily readjusting your knees either side of his hips, gasping into his slack mouth when his grinds upwards, his already erect cock nudging against your core.

pulling your shirt over your head before reconnecting his lips to your jaw, planting hungry kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you arrived, the feel of him desperately moving beneath you becoming entirely too much. you needed him now.

he shimmies his own sweatpants down his thighs, choosing boldly to not wear any underwear. he’s big. his cock springing up against his stomach, gazing down into the space between you, mouth hung open as he works your shorts down with his delicate fingers.

‘what?’ he hushes innocently as if he doesn’t already know. his hand leaves your thigh to wrap around the base of his dick, pumping his fist ever so slowly.

your eyes meet his again, feeling your cheeks flush as the corner of his mouth twitches. if he weren’t so hot, his cockiness would be sickening. but you’re not one to bend to the will of men, brushing off his nerve and instead moving to grip onto his shoulders, positioning yourself above his leaking cock.

‘i know what you sorority girls are like.. you don’t have to- fuck,’ his head rolling back as you lower yourself onto him, gasping quietly at the feeling of fullness that quickly overtakes every other sense.

your fingers clamp around his jaw, pulling his face back up to meet yours, ‘what was that?’ sighing through muffled moans as you begin to rut your hips.

you have him at your mercy, moving your hips antagonistically slow, relishing in the sight of his hooded eyes struggling to stay open, soft pants escaping his lips with every careful movement.

‘ho- shit,’ his fingernails leaving crescent moons into your hips and ass, desperate to cling onto your body in any way he can. guiding your body up and down with the palms of his hands.

‘shh,’ you mutter, connecting your lips to the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quiet his groans. as lavish as this house is, you can bet that it’s not soundproof.

‘you’re so.. fuck- faster baby,’ he whines into your mouth, unappreciative of the calm pace you had set. enjoying the fact that you now held the upper hand, but also acutely aware that the sounds of skin-on-skin are indisputable, paired with his grunts, you’d be caught out in a second.

‘nuhuh,’ shaking your head slightly, face pressed into his sharp jaw, hoping to stifle some of the noises come from your throat.

this is when steve decides he’s had enough, this was his house and if anyone had anything to say then they could. his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place above him as his legs spread, heels digging into the mattress.

your lips connect once again, in a sloppy kiss that requires minimal effort as his hips begin to thrust up, punching against that soft, spongy spot deep within. and now you’re the one responsible for the too-loud moans, practically screaming into his mouth as his tongue slips into your open mouth. his smirk evident against your lips as his thrusts grow faster.

chasing the same high you can feel growing in the pits of your stomach. you’re not even kissing at this point, lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek as his grip tightens, low grunts rumbling into the minimal space between you with every thrust.

‘oh god,’ you mewl, the all too familiar twist in your gut as his hips begin to stutter, the sound of your bodies connecting was spurring both of you on. not caring about your volume level as you come crashing over the edge.

babbling his name over and over again as you clench around him, shoving your face into his neck as pleasure soars all the way down to your toes, the sensation overwhelming your poor fucked-out brain.

his hands paw at the doughy flesh of your ass, resigning his last bit of energy for his last thrusts, hot spurts of cum paint your walls. steve’s teeth graze against your bare shoulder, suppressing his almighty moan as you collapse into a heap on top of him.

you feel like jelly, unable to lift your head when he pulls out, allowing him to manhandle your body as he shuffles down the bed. you shift slightly, moving to the empty space beside him, reaching down for the blanket, desperate for some modesty despite the explicit scene this room had just witnessed.

that was everything you’d imagined it’d be and more.

‘jesus,’ he sniffs, relaxing into your bed as if he belonged there, ‘anyone ever told you how fucking good you feel?’ his arm reaching out to pull your body into his once more.

‘shut up,’ you mumble, still very much coming back to earth. trying not to get too comfortable with this arrangement but letting your leg slide between his.

his other hand flicks the tiny lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. toned arms coming to rest around your waist, chin resting against your head.

‘you can’t sleep in here,’ you warn, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

‘why not? this is my house, i can sleep wherever i want,’ his fingertips dart around your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you don’t argue, settling into your comfy position nestled into his side. it’s not long before sleep takes over as his fingers trace silly patterns into your back.

-

but you’re rudely awoken at stupid o’clock in the morning, the sun barely rising outside of the tiny window. steve’s grumbling, tapping softly on your shoulder.

‘i’ve gotta go,’ he whispers into your hair, pulling the blanket off of his body and onto yours.

you’re barely coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, nodding along absentmindedly as sleep negs to take over again. ever the gentleman, he places a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

he’s gone before you even wake up fully, not registering what had happened until you wake up again, this time at a more appropriate hour.

it’s only then that fear takes over. had you misjudged how loud you were? what if someone had heard? there’s no way they’d turf you out on thanksgiving.. would they?

yet all seems normal when you slink downstairs, joining stacy at the table as she butters toast without a word to be said about your antics. you pray to every being above that you had gone undetected.

‘morning sleepyhead,’ stacy utters, seemingly in a much better mood than the one you left her in last night, ‘sleep well?’

you stare at her for a moment, deciding if the question is loaded or if she’s genuinely interested in how you slept.

‘yeah.. really good, you?’ testing the waters.

‘yeah not bad,’ she smiles, a genuine smile that allows you to release the breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

phew. you were safe.

‘it’s about to get uh.. tense today so, we can just hang out in my room until dinner,’ she nods assuringly. you trust her, not wanting to bare witness to mr. harrington and his cryptic behaviour.

before you can reply, the front door opens and a small brunette walks in with steve trailing closely. behind her, carrying what looks like a suitcase with the most displeased look plastered on his face.

the woman hangs her coat on the hook, flashing a quick wave towards the kitchen where you sat gawping before heading upstairs quickly.

from here, she looked like a cousin or something, someone you hadn’t been told was attending.

she’s pretty, gorgeous eyes and a polite smile that makes you want to smile.

‘who’s that?’ you ask, perplexed at the sight of this stranger who is obviously so comfortable in their home.

‘oh, that’s nancy,’ stacy continues with her toast, not at all bothered by the new arrival.

‘she’s steve’s fiancée.’

[calummss]

masterlist

requested by the lovely @zablife . thank you for being so patient i feel awful but i hope you enjoy

prompt this was always how it was going to end

‘What is wrong with you?’

‘What’s wrong with me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?’

‘With me?’ You stopped strutting, stepping towards his face. ‘Me? Are you fucking insane?’

John reached out for your arm, his tight grip making it impossible to walk off, leaving you in his embrace that no longer gave you the same warmth it used to. It was cold and wet, cold and dark. All you wanted was to go home, eat the food your nan had made you and sip a cup of tea by the fireplace as she talked about her golden age. John had apprehended you as you sat inside of the Garrison, patiently waiting for Pete to show up but as the clicking of the clock continued to burn into your head, you had given up and pitifully ordered four shots, all burning the back of your throat and you wiped your lips with saddened eyes.

‘Don’t touch me,’ you tried to pull back, your heels almost making you trip every time you tried to get away from him but he was also the one that saved you from the dirty streets of Small Heath. John had loosened his grip, enough to get rid of the burning sensation on the skin of your arm. His eyes were dark, no joy, no tears, no pain; just soulless.

‘You are mine.’ He growled at you not caring for the people that eyes the scene in front of them.

‘You don’t own me!’

‘You’re mine. Stop going on these stupid dates. Do they know you’re married? That they’re committing adulterous acts against me?’

‘We divorced, John!’

‘There’s no such thing as a divorce, sweetheart,’ he inched his face closer to yours, his hot breath clashing against the cold air. ‘Til death do us part.’

Your eyebrows softened with the released tension of your forehead. Who was he? What happened to John?

‘Pete won’t come.’

‘Why?’ You asked. Each second letting his words settle, his grip on your arm slowly fading as you tilted your head to look at him. Legs barely supporting your weight. ‘What the fuck did you do John? What did you do? Where is he?’

‘Receiving the punishment any man should.’

‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘I shot him in the head and watched all of his blood spill next to him as I watched life leave his eyes, his breathing stop, as he looked at me and realised that the last thing he would see was me.’

You stared at John processing what he said. Going over every word he had just uttered, not realising that your shaking hand had made its way to your lips, anxiously pulling the skin. And then it dawned on you… ‘Freddie, Roy, Kennedy, Albert…they never showed up, they…never returned any of my calls…John, what did you do?…Oh no no no,’ your tears silently fell.

‘Do you think I share what is mine?’

Sobs

‘If you think it was ever going to end any other way you are a stupid girl. This is how it was always going to end. You can run as far away as you want. Date who you want. Kiss who you want. But I will always find you. And I will take back what is mine. Always’

[hailmaryfullofgrace55675]

“Ashkenazi Jews don’t actually have Levantine genetic ancestry” has been floating around lately among naïve and conspiracy minded anti-Zionists, a problematic claim that undermines actually correct anti-Zionist principles and defense of Palestinian rights. This claim is

absolutely irrelevant, as “blood” originating on the “soil” does not grant anyone any right to an ethnostate on any land. Using area-native ethnicity to justify discrimination and mass killing is bad when it’s Yamato Japanese discriminating against Korean, Mainland Chinese, and Taiwanese minorities in Japan and it’s bad when it’s Celtic-Germanic descent Brits oppressing Celtic-Germanic descent Irish who they’re genetically undifferentiatable from. It was bad when it was Hutus killing Tutsis and it was bad when it was the Khmer Rouge killing Chinese and Vietnamese Cambodians. The actions of the Israeli state in immiserating and slaughtering non-Jewish Palestinians would be equally harmful and wrong if the diaspora had never happened and every Israeli could trace their resident lineage in an unbroken line back to the time of the Second Temple, because it is bad to destroy people’s homes, burn their crops, imprison them, and kill them.

incorrect, at least according to current scientific consensus. Most genetic studies seem to indicate that Ashkenazim are of majority European descent and also have ancestry in the Levant, that is: the Ashkenazi population had some Levantine founders and there’s been significant amounts of intermarriage over the hundreds and hundreds of years of the diaspora into Southern Europe and from there across Central and Eastern Europe.

irrelevant again because even if, through a combination of conversions, adoptions, intermarriage, and adulterous and out of wedlock pairings between Jews and local gentiles, the diasporic European Jewish population had become completely genetically indistinguishable from local gentiles, those Jews would still have been the children of Israel. They still would have learned to read the Torah and celebrate its festivals. They still would have learned, from their families and communities in an unbroken line, to pray “Sh’ma Yisrael, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad” (Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one) as the rabbinic sages of Roman Judea observed in the Talmud that they were commanded to do. They still would have spoken languages with Hebrew and Aramaic elements, and they still would have written them with letters recognizable in the Dead Sea Scrolls. They still would have had the same interests, affirmed daily and yearly, in the land that their people left so many hundreds of years ago.

One formulation of the claim is “Israel bans direct to consumer genetic testing because it shows that (Ashkenazi) Jews don’t have Middle Eastern ancestry”. The Israeli government does ban DTC genetic testing as part of a genetic information privacy and nondiscrimination law passed in 2000, before companies like 23andMe existed. DNA testing for ancestry can be interpreted and presented many ways, and the ancestry breakdowns given by DTC GT companies just do not correspond to the question “where, how, and through what migrations did this population originate?”.

Once again, Zionism is not bad because people residing in places their ancestors are not from is bad. That is fine. Zionism is bad because from its beginning the Zionist project has been one of violent dispossession and because that violent dispossession continues in and through this very present moment.

[etz-ashashiyot]

I admit, I don’t personally think it’s possible to truthfully combine a worldview that the Torah is divinely inspired, or at least any worldview that involved an all powerful g*d as a source of morality, and slavery.

I don’t really see how an all good all powerful g*d would send plagues to free one people from slavery, but could not even order those people not to keep shaves within their own kingdom

I’m sorry if this comes across as me shitting on your beliefs, evidently you have them so I can’t claim to don’t exist and they’re also very important to you. It simply seems logically inconsistent from my point of view. Although I may also be misinterpreting your point as well.

Hi anon,

Is this in response to this post? If so, I'd ask that you read it again, as that drash explains it far better than I could.

In my experience, Judaism is a very practical religion, with an eye towards elevating the physical by imbuing it with the spiritual. It's why we keep kashrut, it's why we observe the holy rest of Shabbat, it's why we sanctify sex and menstruation through taharat mishpachat. We say brachot over food, but also over sights, pleasant scents, and extraordinary natural events. We even have a bracha for after using the bathroom!

It's a very enbodied, earthy religion.

And because of that, it is typically very pragmatic about how people live and in trying to meet people where they're at, in the society they live in, in the time they live in. That does not mean that this is Hashem's ultimate ideal for us, but rather follows the principle that a middling step that will be followed is superior to an idealistic rule that will be ignored.

See the thing is, we weren't freed just because freedom is good. (Obviously freedom is good and slavery is bad.) Bnei Yisrael were freed specifically in order to become the servants of Hashem and entering into the Covenant of Torah. Their freedom is immediately qualified by the brit.

And the other thing is that we are all given free will. Hashem gives us free will to do what we want. We can make good choices, or bad. We can do good things, or bad things. An oftentimes, what is good and what is bad are less than obvious, and we find ourselves trapped into deciding between two or more bad options, trying to find the least harmful.

If Hashem takes away our free will, sure He could impose upon us a perfect, ideal world.

But that's not what we were made or set up to do. We were given choices and instructed to continuously learn and strive to be better.

So yeah! Yep! The Torah has a lot of things in it that were made for a different society with things we have since learned from and have moved past. We don't stone people to death for violating certain mitzvot. We don't burn adulterers alive. We don't engage the sotah ritual in the case of suspected infidelity. We don't keep slaves, and don't support any model of society that relies on slavery. These are all difficult, painful lessons that we have learned, collectively, over millennia. But they are very human lessons, lessons that we only learnt because we as human beings have the free will to create interpersonal harm and structural inequalities as well as to improve.

People think that just because G-d is all powerful, all-knowing, and all-good that this means Hashem will do all the hard work for us. That G-d will prevent bad things from happening to us good people and deliver divine retribution to bad actors, and are disappointed when it doesn't work like that. It's certainly caused a lot of people to struggle with and even give up their faith. People will ask "where was G-d when— " instead of asking "where was humanity"?

Show me whatever "it" is for you — and lord knows the Jewish people have a small multitude to select from — and I'll show you the ugly and tragic human acts behind it.

"Where was G-d when— " where were you?

[eljeebee]

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Homophobia

Vanderburg Twin seen Cheating from His Commoner Boyfriend

These are the words sitting in front of Dowager Duchess Margaux.

On her screen, a picture of her son, chatting with a woman on a pub probably around Foxbury. They were quite close in the photograph. She thinks they were about to hug, or had just hugged, but she could see the body language–none of them had tense shoulders, and none of them wore an awkward smile.

She rubbed her temple. What gave her a pounding headache was the tabloid’s assumptions of her son dating a commoner boyfriend–Louie Davis, the twins’ friend.

Every showbiz news network, news site–whatever–speculated that he and Louie were dating, as the paparazzi had taken quite a few pictures of them together when their friend group were out, when they were still at high school. Her private secretaries spent a lot of time giving the networks kill orders to kill every picture of the children, especially the photographs of Louie and Seamus “together”, on a reason stating that they were minors, and scared the networks that they could be sued by the parents for taking their photos without their consent. They made sure they never mentioned Mousse’s relationship status.

She even sent a peace offering to Louie’s parents, some new set of high-quality pots and pans for the father, a new handbag for the mother, and a new dress for Sidera Harper–Louie’s girlfriend.

Louie has a girlfriend, for Watcher’s sake.

Bernie entered the room, slamming the door. She could see him stressed. Obviously.

“This is why I told him to release a statement!” He almost growled. “The family never batted an eye when they said he’s gay. But I know the Queen Mother was disappointed.”

“Didn’t stop her from showing her favoritism to the twins, though,” Penny pointed out.

“Yes, Penny,” Bernie exasperatedly sighed. “But the disappointment is there. Did you see how she’s preferring Julie more than her brother?”

“Or maybe,” Penny rolled her eyes, “Julie is the Duchess so she’s more focused on her?”

Bernie exhaled. His heated glare targeted the ceiling, “Look,” he looked back at her, “the family is giving me shit right now–excuse me, Your Grace–they don’t like the cheating allegations. They can leave the boy be and be gay than see him as a cheater. He is considered his father’s spitting image, and they would hate it if he’s painted as an adulterer!”

Penny scoffed, “What, you’d rather have the family be homophobic than give you shit about a cheating scandal?” “What? No!” Bernie let out a noise of frustration. “Look at Prince Gerard and Mr. Simon, since when did the family release their disappointment?”

“Obviously not publicly. Prince Gerard and his husband stepping down from royal duties, retiring from his senior royal work, and moving to Starlight Shores is very telling. And don’t reason with me with Milo and Ramon Perez. The family doesn’t mind them– don’t care even –they’re distant relatives of the household. They’re far away from the throne, Bernie. As long as it’s not the main family, not from the line of King Pierce, they’re fine with it, because it doesn’t steal the show, doesn’t steal the limelight, doesn’t tamper royal values.”

Penny pointed a finger to Bernie. If he was near, Margaux knew the younger secretary would shove him with it, “That’s how homophobic they are.”

“Enough, you two!” Margaux raised her voice. “Let’s not put the blame on my son here.”

“That’s not what I – ”

She held her hand as she stood up from her seat. Bernie closed his mouth.

“What we’re going to do is fix this. You will drive to Foxbury, get my twins, their friends, including this girl, and we will debrief them. From there, we will ask Mousse to release a statement, which includes clarification on why he never spoke before–force him if need be, and then we will have Julie release a statement that shows support,” she motioned to Penny, “which includes a picture of their friend group, with Louie and Sidera together– take note of this –and my son and this girl sitting beside each other. Stage them to be as intimate as possible, have him sling an arm around her waist–anything. That will shut them up.”

“Excellent idea, my lady.”

“And if this doesn’t work?”

“Then we face the wrath of the Queen Mother.”

Seamus spared a quick glance to Bea, who stood beside him, helping him with his presentation.

Lou? He recalled the conversation he and Louie had. How did you know you…liked…Sid?

Louie had whipped his head to face him so fast Seamus had almost laughed. Dude…

He had sighed. I don’t know Louie. I thought of Bea as a friend, but I’m starting to see something more. I can no longer see her as a friend. Every night I think about her, her voice, her laughs, the way she speaks. The way she smartly answers our professors, the way she handles her fans inside the campus, telling them to move their asses away and not disturb her education…I always look forward to seeing her, Lou, but I’m also nervous when I’m about to see her. I was never the one to look conscious about my appearance because everyone finds me handsome anyway –

– Woooow. You sounded like a prick there. Louie had laughed at him.

Seamus had chuckled at this, and then continued, When I’m with her, I always find myself worrying about how I look. Do I look good? I’ve asked the girls about it. Julie always says yes, and Sid just gave me a thumbs up. My confidence spikes–until I see her.

Yeah, and you buy the magazine that has her at the cover, Louie had teased him by adding another thing that he’s so embarrassed to admit.

Seamus remembered giving him a look. He also remembered Louie stuck his tongue out to tease him more.

Anyway, his friend had patted him on the back firmly. You’ve fallen in love, my boy.

And back to the present. This is why she’s here. He invited her under the pretense of asking her help. Honestly, he can breeze through this presentation with how inspired he is.

He’s going to confess to Bea. Right here. Right now.

“Bea– ”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

He tried not to click his tongue. Smiling at Bea, he said, “I’ll get it.”

As soon as he opened the door, in came Louie, pushing Seamus back into his room, and kicking the door closed. He looks worried.

“Nobody freak out,” Louie said, but it looked like he said that for himself.

Worry etched on Bea’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Girl, I said, don’t freak out!” Louie let out a sound that made Seamus almost laugh.

“No one’s freaking out but you, Lou. What’s up?” Seamus chuckled.

“There’s…” Louie gulped. “There’s paparazzi outside our door!”

They jogged down the stairs, and when the paparazzi noticed them through the glass windows of their door, they pounded, demanding them to step outside. It was locked, luckily, and Seamus is sure they wouldn’t break the window–no one really liked to pay property damage.

“Juls,” Louie said to his phone, “lock your front door. Do not go out. Your brother and I will handle this.”

Seamus heard him. What his sister said, he doesn’t know, as Louie had immediately dropped the call.

“What should we do?” his friend asked. “Should we call Mr. Braxton?”

Seamus thought for a moment. He’d hate to have Bernie here. He’s going to give him one hell of a lecture. You should’ve released a statement a long time ago!

“I’ll go out and talk,” he finally said. “Just a quick announcement…”

“I’ll go with you,” Louie firmly nodded.

“Then I’ll go as well,” Bea added.

“Are you sure?” Louie asked, worried. “I think it’s safe for you to stay inside.”

Bea looked at Seamus. He sighed and gave her a small smile. “Okay, but if it gets too much, Louie will bring you inside, alright?”

“Lord Seamus! Is it true you’re cheating with your boyfriend?”

“Mr. Davis, how do you feel that he’s cheating with that girl right beside you?”

“Seriously? I have a girlfriend!” Louie scowled.

Seamus whispered back to him, “That’s the first and last reaction you’ll give them. Let me handle this.”

Louie shared a glance with Bea. She nodded at him, before looking down at her feet to avoid the paparazzi. Louie rubbed the back of his neck.

Seamus saw his sister and Sid watching through the windows of their door. He knows what she’s thinking. Don’t. He looked away.

“I’m here to confirm one thing,” Seamus started, and the commotion stopped. The journalists waited. He continued, “Bea and I…” he glanced at her. I’ll have to confess this way. I’m sorry.

“We’re dating. The cheating allegations are not true–never is, never was. No relationship before Bea. My sister and I are dear friends of Louie, and his girlfriend, Ms. Harper. I have been silent to the media for many years, even when you assumed my orientation, as I believed that leaving you be is enough, and not engaging with your behavior will keep my family safe. As I’m seeing right now, it’s not. You’re putting my friends at risk. Now, I suggest you leave, before we call the campus security.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the journalists started speaking over each other. A cacophony of more questions. Seamus turned on his heel, pulling Bea with him, and on cue, Louie followed suit, shielding them as they went back inside. He elbowed some journalists away, then quickly closed the door behind him, locking it.

“I’ll call Bernie,” Seamus said, exhaling. “Call security, please.”

Louie nodded.

Seamus looked at Bea. He doesn’t know what to make of her expression. He understood why she was angry. She should be. He should’ve confessed to her first before publicizing that they’re dating.

“We’ll talk after this,” Bea finally said.

There goes my confession.

I've asked some friends to beta read the first part of the update, namely Margaux and her conversation with her private secretaries, so I'd like to thank: @systsim, @novac2281, @plasmadaze, @authorspirit, and @changingplumbob. Thank you for your feedback 🩷

[writers-potion]

hey, can you do a circles of hell post like the heaven one?

The Nine Circles of Hell 😈🔥

Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy is divided into 3 parts: Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso. The Inferno presents us with the popular concept of Nine Circles of Hell.

Ante-Inferno

Think of this as the Ground Lobby for Hell.

The Gates of Hell have this inscription: "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate" (Abadon all hope, ye who enter here)

Souls who couldn't choose between good and evil reside here, tortued and chased by hornets and snakes. (Seems like indecision is also a sin, haha)

There are angels here as well who chose to be on the side of neither good and evil, and they're also tormented.

After crossing the river on the boundary for hell with Charon, you meet the first level of hell:

First Circle: Limbo

The first circle is home to the unbaptized and virtuous pagans, who simply didn't know that Christ exist.

These souls have lived morally, but failed to accept Christiantiy as a religion

No physical torture, but waves of sadness flow through the souls, lamenting the fact that they're close to Heaven but aren't in it.

Retirement community of the afterlife: Hippocrates, Aristotle, Virgil, Homer, Horace, Ovid, Socrates, Plato, Saladin

Second Circle: Lust

The wind-buffeted second circle of Hell is the final destination of the lustful and adulterous.

Souls are blown about in a violent storm, without hope of rest. They are torn in a raging storm and thrown against rocks.

Cleopatra and Helen of Troy were among its most famous residents. Francesca da Rimini and her lover Paolo.

Third Circle: Gluttony

Those who overindulge themselves are forced to lie in vile, freezing slush, guarded by Ceberus

Unable to move, they lay on the ground forever while being hurled with sweage and dirt.

Ciacco of Florence is here.

Fourth Circle: Avarice & Prodigality

This section of Hell is reserved for the money-grubbers and overly materialistic among us. Those who hoarded money come here.

The greedy battle each other, forever rolling giant boulders on each other. When they push the heavy weights, it rolls back and the process starts all over again.

Plutus guards them.

Fifth Circle: Wrath & Sulllenness

Dante tells us that the wrathful and angry souls of this circle spend eternity waging battle with each other on the banks of River of Styx.

The sullen are forced to breath below the dark waters, chocking on the black mud derived from the world above.

Fillippo Argenti is here.

───〃★ Door to Lower Hell: gate guarded by fallen angels ★〃───

Sixth Circle: Heresy

Heretics spend eternity entombed in flaming crypts in the sixth circle. Think of a graveyard with burning tombstones.

Heresy is the sin of having beliefs opposed to the Christian belief, which can be a little vague in modern times.

Florentines Farinata degil Uberti and Cavalcante de' Cavalvanti are here.

Seventh Circle: Violence

The Seventh Circle is sub-categorized into 3 smaller rings: Oter, Middle and Inner.

The outer ring is filled with blood and fire and reserved for murderers and thugs. Centaurs guard the Outer Ring, shooting criminals with arrows.

The middle ring is where, according to Dante, suicide victims go. They’re transformed into trees and fed upon by harpies.

The inner ring, a place of burning sand, is reserved for those who are violent against God and nature (blasphemers)

Eighth Circle: Fraud

Geryon, a creature symbolizing fraud, welcomes you to the eighth circle. He has a human face, a scorpion tail and giant wings.

The eighth circle is subdivided into ten trenches, where you’ll find con artists of all sorts. These trenches are called Malebolge (Evil pockets) and each contains different types of criminals who commited fraud.

Panderes and seducers, flatterers, sorcerers, false prophets, liars, thieves, people who created false money, counterfeits, impersonators, schismatics, etc. reside here.

Ninth Circle: Treachery

The final circle is a frozen wasteland occupied by history’s greatest traitors. Betrayers of are frozen in a lake of ice, and most of Satan's body is also immersed in ice.

It is divided into 4 stages: (1) Caina - traitors to family (2) Antenora - traitors to nation or politicians (3) Ptolomaea - hosts to betray theiur guests (4) Judecca - those to betray their lords/masters.

In the very center, Satan punishes the greatest betrayers of all time: Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Christ, and Brutus and Cassius who betrayed Julius Caesar.

Satan has three mouths, each of which eats a specific person: with left and right devouring Brutus and Cassius and the centre mouth devouring Judas. 

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[bellamer]

If Davrin is a fully fleshed character with a fully fleshed romance, with his redeeming qualities and flaws as all characters should have, I’ll be proud of BioWare. Proud that they finally got it right. But not that proud because why the fuck did it take you people so long to finally figure out how to do black characters ? Jacob Taylor was the worst racial stereotype of a character that they pushed out, literally made him an adulterous man with father issues, who cheats on you six months in with a side chick and gets her pregnant not to mention that he’s racist but he works for a racist terrorist organization so of course he’s racist. Then you have Liam Costa, and Liam isn’t really bad per se and I haven’t romanced him but he, along with a lot of characters in Andromeda just felt flat because the game so was rushed that it felt like they didn’t have time to flesh these characters out so it really isn’t just a Liam thing, it’s an entire game thing. And don’t bring up Captain Anderson. I love Captain Anderson, he’s great but he eventually gets killed off so while he’s great, his death still leaves us with one less black character that actually brings something to the table so we still have Jacob who’s the absolute worst and Liam who we’re probably not going to see again due to Andromeda being so widely hated that it’s uncertain that they’re going to even return to it with Ryder and the Tempest crew.

But it’s 2024, we should know how to write black characters by now. Like it’s not fucking hard to get black people in the writers room for advice on how to handle these characters.

Like I’ll give them a flower if they actually took the time to get it right and right their wrongs but I’m not going to suck their dick and act like they’re the greatest of all time when it took them way longer than it should have and there’s still the high chance of them not getting it right because their track record fucking sucks and the fact that even though it’s 2024, not even Larian studios could give their black character a speckle of attention and with the way fandoms are still openly racist, Davrin could have the best possible romance and storyline and he’ll still be sidelined for a white character fandom-wise because a majority white fan base with crumple at the thought of actually trying to like a black character

In conclusion my hopes are high that BioWare will do better with Davrin than their previous black characters and that they’ll treat Davrin better than how Larian treats Wyll but given their previous track record my hopes are not that high and video game studios will still put the preferences of their white audience over their BIPOC audience so while there’s a high chance that they’ll do better there’s still a higher chance that they’ll completely fumble the ball

[wolfienation]

yk i go back to the Driftmark episode a lot; it's my favorite episode of the season because i feel like it perfectly sums up all the major conflict for the entire show and, selfishly, has what is arguably my favorite Rhaenyra/Alicent scene, which is the scene immediately after Ali cuts Nyra On one side, there's Rhaenyra and there's utter shock on her face, shock so pure she doesn't seem to register the pain of the strike. She's looking at Alicent in disbelief, adulterated disbelief. Let's not forget this comes merely hours after Rhaenyra proclaimed she doesn't think Alicent capable of cold murder. Yet, here she stands now, her arm sliced open by her oldest friend, her childhood friend, her best friend, the first love of her life, the person she dreamed of flying on dragonback with, the person she wanted to whisk off to the ends of the world. Rhaenyra is looking at Alicent and she seems to finally realize just how far gone they are. Yes, she probably still loves her, will probably always love her in one way or another; yes she still knows her as evident by the words she spoke when they were locked together, she will always know her, they're far too entwined for her not to but that doesn't mean the last ten years can be erased. That doesn't mean they can get back to being those innocent 14 yr old girls reading under the wierwood tree again. And on the other side there's Alicent and while Rhaenyra is shocked, Alicent is horrified. She positively horrified by what she has just done, which is evident by the way the dagger falls from her grip as soon as she rears back. She looks at Rhaenyra and she seems to be unable to comprehend what has just happened, unable to reconcile the fact that she just did that, that she raised a blade and tore open the skin of the only person who ever truly cared about her, the only person she loved out of her own violation, the only who who had truly been hers. Alicent has just drawn Rhaenyra's blood and that's something she is never going to be able to take back, a line she is never going to be able to uncross. And the regret is immediate, immediate and devastating and Alicent spends the next 6 yrs repenting for it. And this whole thing now bonds them together in arguably a deeper way. Rhaenyra's skin is literally marred from the hatred which had once been the purest love in her life, marred by the very dagger which contains the words of her birthright, wielded by the one who took it from her, wielded by Alicent. They're entwined in the worse ways by blood and Rhaenyra is about to deliver the promise of fire. Sorta of a, "I loved you to the point of destruction."

[alishaaxo]

it is NOT misogyny to say that rhaenyra willingly birthing jace, knowing he was from harwin, was a bad thing 😭

like no!! im just saying she should’ve been a little cautious and her actions DID damn her son!

i get that rhaenyra+laenor did plan to do their duty… and i understand that this fell apart as laenor was too traumatised from joffrey’s death plus being queer was already making it hard for him

but like just KNOWING that her son would have features not matching, her, her husband, her grandparents, or her husbands grandparents, and instead the suspiciously close sworn-shield…..

i can even be lenient for jace, since she had no clue that targaryen blood wouldn’t hold thru since there had been barely any targaryen-andal/firstmen marriages exc one that resulted in her mother who had targaryen features! but with luke… theres was almost no chance and JOFFREY was just blatant disrespect like imo alicent was right in saying that one is a mistake but any more is just ignorant and plain idiocy

like it weakens rhaenyras claim because men are gonna hate how shes an adulterer (even tho its valid because her husband is gay) and they’l hate how she made bastards which are sins in the seven and have no place in gaining inheritance

it makes jace also look like such a fool. like imagine poor baby jace wondering why the courtiers all sneer at him and why people don’t respect him… all because his mother was too hasty in her love for harwin!!

and ik ppl say “but oh, the boys are inheriting through rhaenyra’s claim so its fine!” but like robert baratheon had kids older than joffrey and didn’t saying they should be his heir because they’re his firstborn?? and for all cersei’s faults, at least her kids had the features of their mother, which was something rhaenyra should’ve considered to try to get, like idk contact mysaria for some lysene whore or take a trip to dragonstone and pretend to be a dragonseed and sleep with another dragonseed or smth idk!!

[elfqueen006]

The Lifeguard Part 4

Tags/CW: summer camp au, camp counselor au, horror, slasher, rivals to lovers. Drama. Skinny dipping. Minors DNI

It’s that dream again.

That dream where everything’s perfect.

It’s a sunny day. Everything’s in slow motion, but the sounds are in real time. Everyone is whooping and cheering. Children laugh and run past him. In the distance they zipline and play games. Counselors smile as they wave at him. Everyone is happy. Everything is perfect.

But there’s one thing missing. Skylar. It’s often in these dreams she’d walk past him and smile, giving a coy wave and a wink. She’s dressed in her loose counselors’ tee and jean shorts. Her blonde hair that catches in the sun flows behind her and her blue eyes sparkle. She’s perfect. But she’s nowhere to be seen. 

He hears the distant shrill of the lifeguards’ whistle. The water is still and perfect. There’s no one at the lake but you. You’re in the lifeguards’ bright red leotard and wearing shades. Sunlight glints off your perfect legs. You lie back in your chair, a sigh of pleasure echoes as you soak up the suns’ rays. Then you look at him and the sounds of laughter are drowned out. You smile perfect whites and blow him a kiss.

---

After a week, the camp had put out a missing persons’ flier for Skylar, Ian, and Bill. There was really nothing Jack could do to protest on the basis he’d look suspicious. It made him feel awful once local parents caught wind that people were going missing and decided to pull most of their kids from the camp. He couldn’t have imagined how much of the experience had been ruined for them, and he even had to hold back some tears of his own as he watched the smaller ones scream and cry to stay but to no avail.

But no, he reasoned, it was better this way. Less kids at the camp meant less of the likelihood that they’d go wandering past campgrounds. And that was less people to keep track of going near the shed, which after that fateful night with Bill he’d made certain no one else had ventured near it. And in the meantime, he’d kept himself occupied… a little side project you might say. He planted flowers. 

He planted them behind the shed, on top of the mound where they’d been buried. He hadn’t even known where he’d gotten the idea. But one day he’d simply ran up to the local convenience store, found some seeds and started planting. They were scorpion grasses - “forget-me-nots”. He grimaced at the implications. It didn’t take long for the other counselors’ to start noticing them in the distance. So of course they questioned him.

“Oh that?” Jack asked, “That’s sort of a… garden I’m starting.” That earned him a few narrowed glances and side eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, using the flush of guilt to play it up like he was embarrassed. “I… haven’t been able to really sleep much since Skylar disappeared so… I just started without thinking.” At the very least, the words were true. And a half truth is always good to sell in the right context. Finally he said, “I figured maybe… If I planted these they might see them. They might want to come back. I dunno…”

They ate it right up. Their looks of suspicion turned somber and apologetic. They muttered sorrows and walked past him giving pats on the back. All except you, who sucked your teeth at the explanation. You shook your head, “They ain’t coming back.”

All eyes were on you now. Another counselor named Olivia folded her arms and raised a brow, “And… why is that Y/N?” She asked.

“Because they’re guilty.” You replied matter-of-factly. Jack gave you a pleading look, which you aptly ignored.

Olivia pressed, “Of?”

“Being slimy, trifling, no-good adulterers.” Your statement was met with scoffs and mumbles of disbelief. You simply shrugged, “You heard me, they were creepin’.” You then proceeded to spill everything you heard from Jack that night, though you were sure not to mention his name. Still, it made the mascot visibly wilt. And now it looks to everyone like he was pining after a “bad girl” who acted like a “good girl” and led him on. Where that last part came from he hadn’t known. But apparently everyone knew at some point he liked Skylar.

People weren’t so sympathetic towards you however. You’d been cheated on, that much was certain. They had no reason to dispute you, and it would explain your shit attitude the week before. But your apparent hostility towards the whole thing had made other counselors grow wary of you and they began to talk.

“She’s not even joining in on searches for them!”

“Yeah, that was still her boyfriend and best friend. You’d think she’d be a little more caring about the whole thing...”

And then things got on the more insidious side.

“I know she can be a bitch sometimes but this is too far.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if it turns out she had something to do with their disappearance.”

Jack’s blood ran cold. The thought that anyone would be accusing you of murder… It rubbed him the wrong way. The more ruthless part of him thought this was likely the best case scenario. You hadn’t mentioned his name and suspicions were already on you. You weren’t exactly what came to mind for blood thirsty ax-murderer but looks could be deceiving. He could always just relocate the bodies, adjust some wounds and… He shook his head clear of the incriminating thoughts. That wasn’t who he was. The goal was discretion and scarcity. There was no need to make things more complicated. Aside from that, there were things that needed clearing up…

You were on lifeguard duty as usual, and while there weren’t as many kids to manage, it was all the more reason to stay vigilant of them. Some counselors left due to stress but it was more you hung around to stave off boredom. You lie back in your chair, soaking up the sun’s rays, absentmindedly chewing gum. Jack shuddered, remembering his dream.

He got it again when he walked to your high chair and knocked on the stilts. Without even looking down you hop from your chair and take off your shades. You grin, “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

“We need to talk.” Jack said.

“You always wanna talk,” You then turn to the kids in the lake and tell them to take a hike. They all groan, disappointed their fun was interrupted. Nevertheless, they obey and go to dry off.

“I think they may hate me more than they did a week ago.” You said casually.

“I want to talk about what happened earlier this week.” Jack said.

“What about it?”

Jack sighed, “Don’t play dumb. You made such an unnecessary scene back there.”

“Sorry.” You said unapologetically.

 “I mean it. People are starting to talk.” Jack briefly glances around, “They think you have something to do with Ian and Sky’s disappearance.”

Your eyebrow furrows, “Where’d they get that from?”

“You’re bitter. You don’t help with searches. You’re just generally-”

“A bitch?” You interrupted.

“... Uncompromising.” Jack corrected.

“Oh yeah sure...” You said. “You know what? Let ‘em talk, Jack. I don’t have anything to hide! I couldn’t give less of a damn if they were found or gone forever. If they’re found – goodie. Whooptie fucking do. If they’re gone? Also good because I don’t wanna see their sorry asses anyway!”

You go to march off the docks but he sidesteps you.

“Hey- Y/N, stop.” He said.

“Bye Jack.” You bumped past him.

“Y/N-”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, heading back to the main campgrounds.

---

It’s nightfall.

The other groups of counselors have just come back from a fruitless search. The kids have been resigned to their cabins since seven in the evening, now having a curfew to prevent further disappearances. You, however, stay right where you are. You pull out another stick of gum and pop it in your mouth. The sugar sweetness turns bitter when your fellow counselors cast scornful looks your way. Even Shaun, whom you’d grown to be good buddies with since summer started, avoided your gaze. 

They aren’t even a few feet away from you when Shaun decides now is the best time to boost morale. “We’ve had a long day… what do you guys say to a movie night?” He said, a good natured lilt in his voice.

The counselors clamor around him, humming in agreement. You don’t miss the wary glances casted your way and hushed whispers about what to do about you, as if not getting an invitation would cause you to drop in and ruin their good time. Which in all honesty, wasn’t a bad idea.

“We aren’t going to invite her, right?”

“It’d be alright to ask,”

“But do we have to?!”

Exaggeratedly, you checked your nails and attempted to drown out their whispers by chewing your gum harshly. Before you knew it though, someone came up beside you. Nick Hererras. Oh boy.

Nick was an emo guy who had some kind of influencer page on Twitch or Youtube. He had an obvious crush on you and while he was cute in his own right, his sullen and heartsick vibe around you was somewhat of a downer, especially in contrast to how easygoing he’d be around others.

Nick rubbed the back of his neck, “Hey…” 

“Hey,” You replied casually.

“...It was kind of a long search today.”

“You must be tired.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled softly, “I-it was a lot.” You hum curtly. He wets his lips, picking up that he’s losing your attention before even getting it. “We- we’re having a movie night! Shaun’s hosting so… typical horror bullshit. Slashers and all… Maybe you’d like to come… a-and join us?”

You look past him and at the group of counselors. Many of them shift uncomfortably and scrunch their faces up in discomfort, obviously displeased Nick went to invite you. The fact that they don’t even hide their disdain makes your ears burn hot. You shoot up from the steps and start towards the docks, “Nah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the invitation.” You bite out.

Nick’s weak protests could be heard. Some of the counselors sighed in relief.

“Thank God.”

“Well, we tried.”

---

“Goddamn…motherfucking-”

You roughly shucked off your pants and pulled off your shirt. The force of their removal from your body could have very well ripped them but you didn’t care. Your skin was burning with anger, embarrassment, and everything in between. With added frustration you hurriedly tore off your underclothes before taking a running start across the docks. The wind blew through your hair, though it did nothing to cool your skin; you wouldn’t be pacified until you were in the water.

Upon reaching the edge of the dock, you leapt off the wood as easily as you would a catapult. You flew through the air hands out before pulling them in along with your feet, the aerodynamics of your form caused you to flip over twice and land in the water with a big splash. The force of your dive pushed out the surrounding water, shooting it up around you. It fell in droplets on your skin as you rose to the surface. 

You sigh, wading on your back and letting the water carry you for a while.

These past few weeks have been hell. Nevermind the ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend eloping to god-knows-where, or that the head counselor had suddenly gone AWOL – but to think you were actually being suspected of murder? Jack might’ve not said those exact words but it was obvious enough what he was implying.

Your mood sours when the mascot comes to mind; even more so when you remember the garden behind the shed. 

“He’s so stupid…” You hiss. He so obviously still harbored feelings for Skylars’ trifling ass. And why that made you so ornery you couldn’t figure it out; it’s not like he owes you his allyship due to Skylars’ actions. But you didn’t understand how anyone could still like someone willing to do something so shitty. But then again, you often had your own well-being in mind and if someone proved a threat to that, it was pretty easy for you to cut them from your life completely. You’ve lost a lot of potential friends in the past because of that, and you assumed Ian would’ve been different. But in the long run he proved to be no different than the rest…

Snap.

Your head shot up as you peered out into the darkness. “Hello?” You called out. The woods responded with silence. Thinking it was the kids you called out, “If there’s any campers out there, go back to the cabins – it’s past curfew!”

Silence. Then the subtle crunch of branches beneath footwear.

“Y/N?” Jack’s soft voice called out to you before he emerged from the trees. He wasn’t in his usual costume of the big blue foamy jacket and brown pants with garish primary colored shoes. He now wore a tight white tee that hugged his muscular frame, with a pair of gym shorts. He still had on the makeup, though, probably having forgotten to wash it off.

Your ears burned hot as you realized he’d be one of the first to see you like this: swimming in the buck. Subconsciously, you folded your arms over your chest as he approached the lake.

“Y/N, why are you all the way out here?” Jack asked, “It’s not smart to separate yourself from the other counselors.”

Your initial shyness depletes when he mentions the other counselors. “You should tell them that, they’re the ones separating themselves.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Shaun’s hosting some stupid movie night and no one wants me there.” You said.

Jack blinked in surprise, “Shaun? But he’s one of the nicest counselors here.”

“Well, Nick tried… to extend the invitation, I guess. But it’s not like I wanted to go anyway. Horror movies…” You scoffed, “they’re so dumb. And it’s all Shaun watches!”

Jack sighs, “Still, you should stay close to the camp. I dunno what I’d do if another counselor went missing…”

A smirk broke out on your face as you swam up to the boardwalk, placing your hands on the wooden edge as you looked up at him. “Oh? And what would you do, Jack?”

Your sudden change in demeanor caused him to blush bright red, “I-It’s not like that!” He exclaimed, “I mean, I just want you to be safe!”

“Aww. Look at you, worried about lil’ ol’ me!” You cooed.

“Y/N, you-” He paused, finally getting a better look at you in the moonlight. It shone off your wet skin and hair, giving you the feel of some kind of siren, especially with that seductive look on your face. His eyes were drawn to your neck and shoulders, which seemed not to be covered by anything. And then he spotted your clothes…

“God, Y/N! Are you seriously skinny dipping right now?!” Jack exclaimed. 

You immediately clutched your shoulders, but you start cackling, not really finding it in you to feel guilty like before.

“Eeeyup! Care to join me?”

____

Hiii! Sorry this took awhile. This shit is hard to write my guy. It was intended to be longer but I've hit my limit...

Don't fret however, there's more to come!!

[mr-system-of-a-downer]

Discourse speedrun time baybee

If you don’t trust strangers on the internet asking for money you’re just a racist cracker. You just gotta trust me bro. After all it’s not like people lie on the internet for money.

This woman boxer from a country that is traditionally conservative to the point of repression must be a man cause her opponent and a has been children’s author said so. Ignore the fact she’s lost before against other female boxers. Also, I don’t watch boxing or any athletic event in general but someone told me to be mad because of the *looks at hand* the sanctity of women’s sports.

Just vote blue bro. Sure I don’t actually like Biden, Harris, or the democrats in general but trump is literally Hitler and project 2025 is totally going to happen even tho most lawmakers think it’s a comical farce. Look man you can totally vote third party in 2028 this is the most important election of our lives since the last one! Yes I identify as a hardcore socialist why do you ask?

I know Trump is little more than a demagogue who identified as a democrat all his life until he decided to run for office, and yeah he’s a corrupt business and a serial adulterer and an actual sexual predator who paid hush money, but like, liberals man! They’re ruining our country by giving people the freedom to marry who they want and like, wanting universal healthcare! That’s why I gotta vote for Trump he’ll preserve our traditional values and make America great again!

Sure I’m worried about the rising tide of hate crimes and physically can’t defend myself against a humming bird, but I’ll be damned if I pickup a gun! Those kill people you know?

[elderflowergin]

A little rant about MBC My Dearest, purity and men who weaponise it:

(Trigger warning: sexual assault, rape as a war crime)

Fusion sageuk or not, this world has some set rules around purity, even in the relatively loosey-goosey Neuggeunri, where women and men can and do commingle, chat and meet in groups. The last barbarian invasion hangs over them; the old ladies in Gil-chae’s hometown tell the girls that death is better than allowing the barbarians to touch you and that if they do, you should kill yourself for the sake of said purity. Death is preferable to lost purity in this time/place; that’s firmly established from the beginning of the show. (It’s reinforced midway when Injo’s court reports of women who jumped off cliffs into the sea at Ganghwa rather than be taken by barbarians, no doubt perceived not as an avoidance of pain and torture, but a praiseworthy act designed to retain and restore purity).

Gil-chae and Eun-ae have to grapple with this when Eun-ae is attacked by a barbarian. Eun-ae was violated and felt violated by what happened. They know what they are supposed to do, what the old ladies told them to do; and yet Gil-chae holds Eun-ae close and says, nothing happened. We were hurt and our clothes were torn because we rolled down a mountain. Nothing happened to us. She rewrote that story, in the face of everything that said Eun-ae didn’t deserve to live anymore. Consummate survival requires rewriting stories, even the ones that are the hardest to paper over.

Because it appears again in Hanyang, in relative peacetime, when Eun-ae feels she cannot accept Yeon-jun’s proposal, because even if Gil-chae rewrote that story, it’s harder to reconfigure shame when it’s under the skin, when it’s attached to the thing that makes you valuable as a woman. Yeon-jun may never know what it took for his future wife to survive, and that ignorance too, is a privilege. But Eun-ae knows, and perceives her value differently now than before. It’s Gil-chae who persuades her again, who reminds her that they rewrote this story together, two women who survived against all odds.

In this postwar, still somewhat vulnerable time, the possibility is high that there are assault survivors around, just as there are women who may have had to sell their bodies to feed their families, or broken any number of rules around purity for survival. It’s foreseeable that women survivors have been through or seen unimaginable things happen to other women, to their friends and have experienced it themselves. I’m not saying this to undersell the general trauma of war on men - just to say that war crimes hurt women in a very different, very intensely long-lasting way* as compared to theatres of war and fighting.

All of this to say: it didn’t take Jang Hyeon very long to go from “you’re not as pure as you think you are for loving a taken man” a few episodes ago to “you couldn’t live without a man for a day? If you were going to give it away you might as well come to me at least once.” I am truly horrified that he pretty much gets away with it; Gil-chae moves with the punch and gets in a hit of her own, but that’s a bone-chilling thing to tell a woman, any woman. It would be a terrible thing to say to a woman now, let alone in a time when that mattered so much to women, let alone in a time and place where it was forcibly taken from so many women, many of whom died so it wouldn’t be.

This callous attitude continues later when she’s run away with him and they’re in a room for the night. She tentatively asks about marriage, saying that it would be hard for her, since she’s almost a married woman, and people would consider her “used”. (Her fiancé later tells Yeon-jun that he is permitted to kill his partner and the adulterous lover, so this isn’t a gossip without consequence.) In essence, Gil-chae put her life on the line for a man who still says “Husband, no. I am your servant and my body is yours”, a promise that carries little substantive meaning in their world. Marriage isn’t a luxury good that she’s asking for as a whim. It’s what protects Gil-chae and her family from harm; it’s what will allow her sister to find a suitable match later on.)

Jang Hyeon is shown from the start as a man of his own ideas, someone who who doesn’t truck with traditional Joseon morality. He can and does reinvent rules for himself, and clearly doesn’t think that much of notions of purity, but he’s fine using them against Gil-chae.

Yes, Jang Hyeon saved her life during the war, but Jang Hyeon also had the choice of participating or not, the luxury of stepping back if he so chose. Gil-chae had no such luxury, no such choice, an open target on the run. He no doubt understands that the barbarians are raping women, that to survive as a woman is fraught, that sex has become fraught. To use purity to attack a woman he claims to love, to reduce her momentarily the way those old women did - to express his anger by lashing out in this way, in a way calculated to hurt, to violently pierce at the foundation of what it means to be a woman in this time and place is a cruelty that is hard to countenance. It’s telling that his anger at her leads him there, that it escalated with all that time, because he knows that’s what hurts. He knows it’s valuable, knows it hurts when he strikes at it, and yet will do little to protect it for her. I don’t know if there’s any amount of growth that will change this, whether it’s something he can change at all.

There are many upsetting things about this episode, but Gil-chae’s choice to stay at the end is the least upsetting part of it, and the most conceivable, intelligent choice she could have made in the face of a man who - in her perspective - can only offer her fervent words and a feverish gaze, things that will not feed her family or protect her reputation, her business or her heart.

[s4dstr4wberry]

As a practicing muslim i'm guna have to disagree with you! Islam is actually a very beautiful peaceful religion. Arabian culture has made it such a horrible thing, forcing girls 2 dress how they dont want, do what they dont want and preaching it to be religion. It's hard to break out of cultural habits i personally see this in my daily life. Im not saying ur wrong or that u should be muslim or anythin jus sayin that the culture is not the religion and these 2 things should be distinguished between each other. <3

Islam is shit. Your prophet married a 6 year old and banged her at 9. The quraan gave men dominance over their women and allowed men to beat women. The prophet had a whole harem of women and allowed his followers to have 4 wives, he also told them they could rape the slave women they obtained in wars.

Mohammad spread islam with the sword. Those who surrendered had to join islam, if they were Christians or Jews they could keep practicing their religion by paying a tax and were treated like lower grade humans. If he was met with refusal, Mohammad would eradicate entire tribes and leave only the women and girls alive so they could be taken as sex slaves. Free women were told to wear hijab and cover their chests whereas slave women were forbidden from covering their chests and got beaten if they wore hijabs.

Slavery continued to thrive under islam. Some argue that islam encouraged the freeing of slaves in order to eradicate it over time. That’s not true, if a slave woman give birth to a child, that child would be the PROPERTY of her owner, so new slaves were constantly being born.

Argue as much as you want that “this is not the real islam” but it is. Muslims represent their book. They use it to justify their beliefs and actions. I live among muslims. Most are kind-hearted well-meaning people like you’d expect, but at the same time they’re antisemitic, homophobic, misogynistic and they see nothing wrong with it.

In a lot of muslim majority countries today, adulterers are stoned, apostates and blasphemers are killed, thieves’ hands are chopped off, homosexuals are thrown off of rooftops, and women are beaten and killed by their husbands, fathers, brothers for the stupidest shit.

Beautiful peaceful religion my ass. Also if you want proof of what I said lmk and I can give you quraan verses and verified hadiths. The peace and love is a facade to let islam fester in western countries and protect muslims as a “poor oppressed minority”.

Progressive muslims and ex muslims are the ones who are being oppressed because they want to reform and change islam for the better but islam does not accept change.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

So, there’s a videogames website I used to surf some time ago. It was the early twitter era and the HP games were hot topic on the forums discussions. JKR was then relatively tamed, and their twitter feed was a constant barrage of feminism against old conservative guys… and she was so hated among the users. They called them feminazi, woke, etc. The HP games would receive poor reviews from staff and users alongside and memes ridiculing the franchise were shared in the threads.

I stopped visiting the site gradually, It’s been years since then. Curiosity dragged me back recently and things were so changed. Now the HP games have positive reviews, there’re entire threads mocking the attempts and calls to boicot. Anyone calling bullshit on the franchise is called woke, resented, child molester, etc. JKR is now an unfairly treated author. The general consensus goes about how authors have the right to do what they want with their money and the necessity to separate work and personal opinions.

Thinking about it, it’s not that big surprise. Some Xbox forums saw the raising of alt right on internet after all. But it would be funny if it wasn’t so alarming; how quickly the HP fanbase is shifting to bigotry, conspiracy and far right. While not so long ago those same (proto) groups were online crusading against what now defend and praise.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Folks who are already alt right will back whoever they think is on their side; ei republicans who what to fight “sexual immorality” backing trump the adulterer and (alleged) child molester because he tells them what they want to hear. But I saw political circles, not just fandoms, shift into the alt right over the years, actively supporting causes and ideals that once condemned. But the way they condemned them wasn’t always a matter of the harm they caused, but the intellectual inferiority of bigotry. So once the tides turned, so too did the targets of derision. This isn’t to undermine the specific marginalized groups that are targeted by bigotry, but a factor that allows it to spread is the more general sense of community superiority, which lines of perfectly with fandom toxicity. “We are better than those losers out the outside because we are the enlightened members of the in-group.”

For example, I used to follow the “New Atheist” movement on youtube, because it gave me some comfort and catharsis to see the kind of Christian extremists who were abusing me at the time dunked on. But it was just dunking. The real harm conservative American christians did to women, people of color, and queer people was used as proof that religion was a delusion held by intellectually inferior people. But then those marginalized groups started speaking for themselves and making demands, so the youtube atheists switched gears, and started dunking on the “social justice warriors” as the new delusional idiots that they were so much better than. Because the issue of American christianity was never actually the harm that was being committed, it was about how they were dumb and cringe for believing in something fake. The people who actually believed in stopping harm realized what was going on and left, so all that remained were the increasingly odious voices about how feminism and the gays were way worse than conservative christians and maybe they’re right about everything except the god part. (Though some of those bozos have “taken the god pill” in the fifteen years since because their belief system is based in perceived superiority and nothing else.)

As for Harry Potter specifically, I’ve never been in the fandom but based on the many interactions I’ve had with fans over the years, I’m not surprised by that shift. It always had an energy shared by all the worst of nerd fandoms: both the sense of superiority that their book/movie/game is one of the best things ever and it’d popular because everyone agrees that it’s great, but also it’s a special nerdy thing that the evil “normies” will belittle and bully them for enjoying because they’re too stupid to appreciate anything more complicated that reality tv. It maps pretty easily onto the facist idea that the in-group is simultaneously the superior order that effortlessly outclasses all others in everything and the poor perpetual victims of the all powerful other constantly out to get them. I’m not saying being in a toxic fandom automatically turns people into fascists, I’m saying that fascists are opportunists and pray on people who feel they have been victimized, and convince them the ones doing the victimizing are their current targets.

JKR herself was a victim of domestic violence, which is a prime recruitment ground used by terfs. That, and she was probably feeling the existential dread of her greatest success being behind her after the mainline HP franchise ended, her newer books weren’t doing well, and she wanted to feel like she was “positively” impacting the world. But that was years ago and she’s speaking her own words at this point. She’ll die remembered as a bigot who squandered the good memories propping up her overhyped franchise and not even her fellow terfs will miss her because they’re so paranoid about trans people, they’ll probably start “transvestigating” her posthumously out of instinct.