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#times square protests
aci25 · 1 year
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Protesters gathered in Times Square and Union Square in Manhattan Friday night to express their outrage over the police killing of Tyre Nichols.
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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 5 months
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by Michael Ruiz
NEW YORK – A large group that turned out to support a Palestinian-American man convicted of taking part in a hate crime beating of a Jewish man in a Times Square protest was ejected from a Manhattan courthouse Tuesday after shouting at the judge during his sentencing.
Mahmoud Musa was among a group of men who brutally beat Joseph Borgen after spotting him in public wearing a yarmulke in 2021. They set out that morning "to attack Jewish people," according to prosecutors, and they found Borgen, who was headed to a pro-Israel rally. 
They pummeled him to the floor, kicked him while he was down and doused him with pepper spray.
"I felt a liquid being poured on my face, and at first I thought I was getting urinated on, but it turned out I was getting maced and pepper sprayed," Borgen told the New York Post shortly after the 2021 attack. "My face was on fire. That pain was worse than the concussion and all this other stuff that followed."
Video of the attack also showed his assailants berating him with antisemitic slurs as they left him with a concussion and needing a neck brace.
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Excellent article by Mike McIntire about how (thanks to the conservative SCOTUS willful misinterpretation of the Second Amendment in the Heller and Bruen decisions) “armed speech” can now intimidate and silence “unarmed speech” in the U.S.
IMHO any nation that puts “armed speech” above “unarmed speech” no longer truly values the most important foundations of any democracy--the free and open exchange of ideas and the right to protest peacefully without fear of armed retaliation.
The link above is a “gift link” so readers should have access to the entire article even if they don’t subscribe to the Times. In case the link doesn’t work (or you just want to read highlights) below are some excerpts and selected photos from the article:
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Across the country, openly carrying a gun in public is no longer just an exercise in self-defense — increasingly it is a soapbox for elevating one’s voice and, just as often, quieting someone else’s. [...] A New York Times analysis of more than 700 armed demonstrations found that, at about 77 percent of them, people openly carrying guns represented right-wing views, such as opposition to L.G.B.T.Q. rights and abortion access, hostility to racial justice rallies and support for former President Donald J. Trump’s lie of winning the 2020 election. [...] Anti-government militias and right-wing culture warriors like the Proud Boys attended a majority of the protests, the data showed. Violence broke out at more than 100 events and often involved fisticuffs with opposing groups, including left-wing activists such as antifa.
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Republican politicians are generally more tolerant of openly armed supporters than are Democrats, who are more likely to be on the opposing side of people with guns, the records suggest. In July, for example, men wearing sidearms confronted Beto O’Rourke, then the Democratic candidate for Texas governor, at a campaign stop in Whitesboro and warned that he was “not welcome in this town.” [...] The occasional appearance of armed civilians at demonstrations or governmental functions is not new....But the frequency of these incidents exploded in 2020, with conservative pushback against public health measures to fight the coronavirus and response to the sometimes violent rallies after the murder of George Floyd. Today, in some parts of the country with permissive gun laws, it is not unusual to see people with handguns or military-style rifles at all types of protests.
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For instance, at least 14 such incidents have occurred in and around Dallas and Phoenix since May....In New York and Washington, where gun laws are strict, there were none — even though numerous demonstrations took place during that same period.
Many conservatives and gun-rights advocates envision virtually no limits. When Democrats in Colorado and Washington State passed laws this year prohibiting firearms at polling places and government meetings, Republicans voted against them. Indeed, those bills were the exception.
[emphasis added]
[See more below the cut.]
[...] Beyond self-defense, Mr. Stein [a spokesperson for Gun Owners of America] said the freedom of speech and the right to have a gun are “bedrock principles” and that “Americans should be able to bear arms while exercising their First Amendment rights, whether that’s going to church or a peaceful assembly.”
Others argue that openly carrying firearms at public gatherings, particularly when there is no obvious self-defense reason, can have a corrosive effect, leading to curtailed activities, suppressed opinions or public servants who quit out of fear and frustration.
Concerned about armed protesters, local election officials in Arizona, Colorado and Oregon have requested bulletproofing for their offices.
Armed Speech
[...] The Times’s analysis found that the largest drivers of armed demonstrations have shifted since 2020. This year, protesters with guns are more likely to be motivated by abortion or L.G.B.T.Q. issues.  [...] More than half of all armed protests occurred in 10 states with expansive open-carry laws: Arizona, Georgia, Kentucky, Michigan, North Carolina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Texas, Virginia and Washington. Three of them — Michigan, Oregon and Texas — allowed armed protesters to gather outside capitol buildings ahead of President Biden’s inauguration, and in Michigan, militia members carrying assault rifles were permitted inside the capitol during protests against Covid lockdowns.
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Beyond the mass gatherings, there are everyday episodes of armed intimidation. Kimber Glidden had been director of the Boundary County Library in Northern Idaho for a couple of months when some parents began raising questions in February about books they believed were inappropriate for children.
It did not matter that the library did not have most of those books — largely dealing with gender, sexuality and race — or that those it did have were not in the children’s section. The issue became a cause célèbre for conservative activists, some of whom began showing up with guns to increasingly tense public meetings, Ms. Glidden said.
“How do you stand there and tell me you want to protect children when you’re in the children’s section of the library and you’re armed?” she asked.
In August, she resigned, decrying the “intimidation tactics and threatening behavior.”
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A Growing Militancy
At a Second Amendment rally in June 2021 outside the statehouse in Harrisburg, Pa., where some people were armed, Republican speakers repeatedly connected the right to carry a gun to other social and cultural issues. Representative Scott Perry voiced a frequent conservative complaint about censorship, saying the First Amendment was “under assault.”
“And you know very well what protects the First,” he said. “Which is what we’re doing here today.”
Stephanie Borowicz, a state legislator, was more blunt, boasting to the crowd that “tyrannical governors” had been forced to ease coronavirus restrictions because “as long as we’re an armed population, the government fears us.” [...] Across the country, there is evidence of increasing Republican involvement in militias. A membership list for the Oath Keepers, made public last year, includes 81 elected officials or candidates, according to a report by the Anti-Defamation League. Most of them appear to be Republicans. [...] More than 25 members of the Oath Keepers and Three Percenters have been charged in the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol. Those organizations, along with the Proud Boys and Boogaloo Boys, make up the bulk of organized groups in the armed-protest data, according to The Times’s analysis.
Shootings were rare....But Mr. Jones said the data, which also tracked unarmed demonstrations, showed that while armed protests accounted for less than 2 percent of the total, they were responsible for 10 percent of those where violence occurred, most often involving fights between rival groups.
“Armed groups or individuals might say they have no intention of intimidating anyone and are only participating in demonstrations to keep the peace,” said Mr. Jones, “but the evidence doesn’t back up the claim.”
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Competing Rights
In a landmark 2008 decision in District of Columbia v. Heller, the Supreme Court held that the Second Amendment conveyed a basic right to bear arms for lawful purposes such as self-defense at home. It went further in a decision this June that struck down New York restrictions on concealed-pistol permits, effectively finding a right to carry firearms in public.
But the court in Heller also made clear that gun rights were not unlimited, and that its ruling did not invalidate laws prohibiting “the carrying of firearms in sensitive places.” That caveat was reiterated in a concurring opinion in the New York case.
Even some hard-line gun rights advocates are uncomfortable with armed people at public protests...But groups that embrace Second Amendment absolutism do not hesitate to criticize fellow advocates who stray from that orthodoxy. [...] Regardless of whether there is a right to go armed in public for self-defense, early laws and court decisions made clear that the Constitution did not empower people, such as modern-day militia members, to gather with guns as a form of protest, said Michael C. Dorf, a constitutional law professor at Cornell University who has written about the tension between the rights to free speech and guns.
Mr. Dorf pointed to an 18th-century Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruling that a group of protesters with firearms had no right to rally in public against a government tax. Some states also adopted an old English law prohibiting “going armed to the terror of the people,” still on the books in some places, aimed at preventing the use of weapons to threaten or intimidate.
“Historically,” said Mr. Dorf, “there were such limits on armed gatherings, even assuming that there’s some right to be armed as individuals.”
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More broadly, there is no evidence that the framers of the Constitution intended for Americans to take up arms during civic debate among themselves — or to intimidate those with differing opinions. That is what happened at the Memphis museum in September, when people with guns showed up to protest a scheduled dance party that capped a summer-long series on the history of the L.G.B.T.Q. community in the South.
While the party was billed as “family friendly,” conservatives on local talk radio claimed that children would be at risk (the museum said the planned activities were acceptable for all ages). As armed men wearing masks milled about outside, the panicked staff canceled all programs and evacuated the premises.
Mr. Thompson, the director, said he and his board were now grappling with the laws on carrying firearms, which were loosened last year by state legislators.
“It’s a different time,” he said, “and it’s something we have to learn to navigate.”
[emphasis added]
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NOTE: Photos 1, 3, 4, 5, and 6 were slightly modified from their original sources. All photo caption formatting was changed from the original sources. Photos 2 and 7 were moved to be closer to the stories about them than in the original article.
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By Gary Wilson
Anti-war protests were held in more than 50 cities across the U.S. on the week of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday holiday, Jan. 13 to Jan. 22. “Stop the U.S. war on Donbass, Russia & China! Unite to fight racism, fascism & imperialist war,” declared the banner carried by the Socialist Unity Party in Times Square, New York City, on Jan. 14. Hundreds joined the Times Square rally, which ended with a march down Seventh Ave.
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shotbyshe · 1 year
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Friday, January 27, 2023 | Tyre Nichols Protest - Times Square, Hell's Kitchen, New York City
I was having me a Short Film Festival at home when I started hearing commotion outside my window. I usually don't do this (upload as soon as I shot footage) but this seemed time-sensitive.
I found out at 10pm.....it is now 11:37pm. Fake journalist.
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glosackmd · 6 months
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PROTESTS623 by a Psychiatrist's view Via Flickr: a not so conciliatory gesture by the pro ISRAELI contingency Times Square ManHatTan Photography’s new conscience linktr.ee/GlennLosack
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ursie · 6 months
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Brennan’s statement on Palestine :
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[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:
"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.
I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.
Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.
My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.
In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.
So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]
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And so it makes sense that these are now the places where fascism grows; that’s what these places were designed for. The suburbs were invented as a reactionary tool against the women’s liberation and civil rights movements. The US government, in concert with banks, landowners, and home builders, created a way to try and stop all that, by separating people into single homes, removing public spaces, and ensuring that every neighborhood was segregated via redlining. The suburbs would keep white women at home, and would keep white men at work to afford that home. These were explicit goals of the designers: “No man who owns his house and lot can be a Communist,” said the creator of Levittown, the model suburb. “He has too much to do.” The reason Target has become the locus of today’s particular right-wing backlash is the same reason countless viral TikToks attempt to convince women that they’re at risk of being kidnapped every time they’re in a parking lot. It’s the reason why true crime is one of the most popular podcast genres in America, and why many refuse to travel without a gun by their side and shoot people if they set foot on their driveway.
[...]
It is of course true that these mass hysterias are part of an organized right-wing movement that is attacking human rights across the country—through legislation banning abortion, gender-affirming care, and books, and making it illegal for educators to teach American history accurately. But the shape this movement has taken is not coincidental; it is in fact the product of the unique shape of public life in America, or lack thereof. Suburbanites do not have town squares in which to protest. They do not have streets to march down. Target has become the closest thing many have to a public forum. We often hear that urban areas are more liberal and suburban ones more conservative, and we’re often told that this is because of race. That may be partly true, though cities are whiter than ever and suburbs more diverse than ever. Instead, it may be that suburbanism itself, as an ideology, breeds reactionary thinking and turns Americans into people constantly scared of a Big Bad Other. The suburban doctrine dictates that public space be limited, and conflict-free where it exists; that private space serve only as a place of commodity exchange; that surveillance, hyper-individualism, and constant vigilance are good and normal and keep people safe. It is an ideology that extends beyond the suburbs; it infects everything. Even cities, as Sarah Schulman writes in The Gentrification of the Mind, have become places where people expect convenience and calmness over culture and community. What is a life of living in a surveilled and amenity-filled high-rise and ordering all your food and objects from the Internet to your door if not a suburban life? To make matters worse, the people who have adopted this mindset do not see it as an ideology, but as the normal and right state of the world; they, as Schulman writes, “look in the mirror and think it’s a window.” So when anything, even a gay T-shirt, disrupts their view, they become scared.
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aci25 · 1 year
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BREAKING: ARREST AFTER NYPD WINDSHIELD SMASHED IN TIMES SQUARE 
Dozens of New York City protesters gathered in Times Square Friday night following the release of video showing the violent arrest of Tyre Nichols.
At one point, video showed the Times Square protesters clashing with NYPD officers.
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spiderlyla · 8 months
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a thought that had just occurred to me is: making out with miguel o'hara. (gn!reader)
you'd be sitting on the edge of the bed, mindlessly going through your phone, checking some texts, looking at funny short videos to pass the time before going to sleep, when miguel walks in and shuts the door behind him.
you briefly look up, there is nothing strange about him, he was wearing grey sweats that hung low from his waist, exposing the start of his v-line. square glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, you'd been begging him to come to bed for a while now, but he was too engrossed in his work so you left him alone.
"are you done working for today, miggy?" he walked straight towards you, the matress sinking as soon as he sat by your side. he shook his head, of course, he's never done working. yet, here he was, sitting beside you on the bed.
which was odd to say the least.
"what is it?" you asked him, and he just replied by wrapping an arm around you, long, girthy fingers ghosting over your waist. "nothing, amor, just missed you."
you put down your phone, hand reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your soft touch, like he'd been aching for it. "I haven't been gone for long, honey, and you said—" he mumbled something inaudible, a mashup of words, maybe a sentence before he placed his lips on yours.
they were soft, plush against your own. he nibbled on your lower lip, his fangs grazing your delicate skin, but never injuring you. though confused, you knew how miguel was, this was his way of showing that he's still thinking of you even while he was working. he'd asked you to leave because you were distracting him, and probably felt as though it was too mean, so he was making it up for you.
your hands travelled to his hair, his thick, pretty tufts of black hair. his tounge had found its way into your mouth, not fighting for dominance like he usually would, but rather savouring this moment between the two of you.
his free hand would find your thigh, and he'd move the one on your waist to rest it on your back, supporting you. you'd always go a little weak whenever he kisses you, so he made sure to always hold you in case you turn into putty in his arms.
you try to break away from the kiss, but he refuses, capturing your lips between his own over and over again. you're breathless at this point, but it feels so good. his tounge on yours, his teeth on your lips, his hands on your body. your fingers tugged on his curls and he groaned a bit, pulling you into his lap.
"mig—whats gotten into you—" you'd breath out between gentle kisses, "sh, i need this." he'd reply quickly. you didn't protest after that.
your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders, and Miguel instantly pushs you onto your back, pressing you against the mattress. you're a giggling mess and he couldn't help but chuckle too, like you were some sort of teenage couple, doing this for the first time without your parents' knowledge.
his chest presses against yours and your feet are resting on his thigh, while he keeps giving you gentle pecks and slow kisses.
"come to bed, mig." you'd whisper once more, and he'd nod, before kissing you again and again.
"f'course I will."
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hylianengineer · 3 months
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A aromantic prince has been turned into a frog
It's a curse only true love can break
So he spends months trying to fall in love, trying to stop being who he is because god dammit he's not a frog either!
After yet another unsuccessful date, he begins to despair for his future which is looking more amphibious by the minute.
A loud noise disturbs his brooding as something comes crashing through the undergrowth. He's barely gotten his little froggy feet underneath him before a tiny (but still quite big if you're a frog!) hand is scooping him into the air.
A little kid sees the frog on the grass.
They grab it before he has the chance to protest and kiss him square on his slimy little head.
He transforms back into a very confused human.
No, this is not a Renesme moment, gross. Not romantic love or even friendship, just the blind joy of a kid who thinks frogs are super cool. The child loves every amphibian she's ever set eyes on, but that doesn't make it any less real. And she grows up to be a biologist who studies frogs, because of course she does. The prince pays her tuition as thanks for returning him to his proper form. She was like 4 years old at the time and doesn't even remember the frog incident - there's just some random rich dude paying for her college because of something she doesn't remember, but she's not complaining because grad school is expensive as heck.
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acheemient · 5 months
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If part 3 of 1941 is not "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square" coming on the radio and Crowley standing from the table where they have been drinking wine and coming around to Aziraphale's side and offering his hand to Aziraphale to dance, and Aziraphale looking a bit wonderstruck and a bit delighted and taking Crowley's hand, and they slow dance, holding each other so close, and they look into each other's eyes, and Crowley whispers, "Angel," and he's looking at Aziraphale's lips with all the wanting in the universe written upon his eyes, and Aziraphale with a face that says he's never wanted anything more than to swallow Crowley whole so he can Keep him, and they lean in, and at the very last second, Aziraphale stops them and they are standing there breathing heavily with their foreheads pressed together, and Aziraphale whispers, "I want to; oh God, I want to," and Crowley whines and tries again, but Aziraphale pulls back but doesn't leave Crowley's arms, and says, "We can't," and Crowley looks like he's been slapped, and Aziraphale looks so heartbroken and says, "They almost caught us tonight, and they would have destroyed you" and then continues so quietly, like it's a secret, "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," and Crowley tries to protest saying they can be sneaky, they won't get caught, they can have this, together, and Aziraphale looks so sad and says, "Oh Crowley," and Crowley knows Aziraphale is so close to agreeing and so close to pulling away, and he whispers, "Please," and for a second Aziraphale looks like he is going to give in, but he can't put Crowley in danger, so he makes his face colder, and he steps out of Crowley's arms, even though it nearly kills him to do so, and he says, "Besides, you know Angels don't dance," and Crowley remembers himself says, "No I don't suppose they do," and he straightens up and puts his glasses on and pretends nothing happened and says, "Of course you're right," and they nod at each other and Crowley moves to leave the bookshop, and Aziraphale feels like he's about to lose something so precious that he will not be able to ever get back, so he calls "Crowley," and Crowley turns to look at him, and Aziraphale says, "Perhaps someday...," but he can't say what he really means (some day we can have that, someday we can be together how we want, someday I will stop pulling away), so he visually changes his mind and finishes with, "we can dine at the Ritz," and he prays to a God that he, in this moment, hates so, so much for keeping him from the demon he loves more than anything, that Crowley understands his true meaning, and Crowley looks like maybe he does and like maybe he still has hope, and he nods and says, "Stay safe, Angel," and Aziraphale nods back, and then Crowley leaves, and Aziraphale is left looking absolutely devastated and heartbroken and angry, truly angry, for the first time in his long and lonely existence that he has to be loyal to Her rather than to him, and he takes a moment, takes a breath, and walks silently over to the radio and turns up the volume on the song and closes his eyes and gives himself that moment to remember what it felt like to be held, to be loved, to imagine what saying yes would bring, then honestly what is even the point of all of this?
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lewsnumerounofan · 5 months
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dirty (theodore nott x reader)
summary: in which theo seeks to remind you who you really belong to (hint: it’s not your boyfriend).
notes: fingering (f receiving), cheating, kinda dick theo, kinda jealous theo, angst, 1k words, smut
+ part two
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His eyes—dark, haunting—trailed you through each room and interaction. Well, trailed you and your boyfriend.
All was fine until your boyfriend went to get you both drinks. As soon as he disappeared from sight the Slytherins tall presence appeared at your back.
Despite your protests, Theo managed to drag you from the crowded dance floor, down the hall and into a dark bathroom, all the while avoiding your curses and flailing elbows.
“Let go of me, Nott. Are you fucking crazy dragging me out of the party like that? He could have seen,” you hissed, trying to break for the door. He beat you to it, coming to stand squarely between you and your escape route.
This boy, you thought. He drove you mental—had done since the first time you’d laid eyes on him. It was only a matter of time before one of you had slipped, boyfriend or no. Since then it had been long months of broom closet hook ups and secret astronomy tower rendezvous.
But you had sworn all that off. Your boyfriend was nice. And Theo was… well, Theo.
“Come here,” he said.
You scoffed and focused hard on the bathroom tile to your right.
“I fucking said come here,” Theo repeated, but now his accent was thick and his voice was loud. Lip curled he waited for you to slowly stand before him. You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead watching as his chest rose and fell with angry breathes.
“You can talk about your boyfriend all you’d like, principessa,” he spat, “but I’m the one fucking you, hm?”
His crude words had you forgetting your fear and raising your chin to argue. There was no need to make this messier than it already was—and who was he to talk? He seemed to have a new girlfriend every other week.
But Theo didn’t give you the chance. He was in your face in an instant, backing you up until you’d hit the opposite wall.
“I’m the one you call when you’re horny or lonely. I fucking own you.”
Your faces were almost touching. Theo angry was something you could never forget—his eyes were almost black as they incessantly tracked your movements. Mouth in a permanent snarl he kept your body caged in with his long arms, even as you tried weakly to pry yourself away. His voice changed too; every time he yelled his Italian accent became stronger, words sometimes reverting back to his native tongue. It made you dizzy.
“Theo-“
“Boyfriend or not, you’re mine. Sei mia,” he said, this time crushing the words onto your mouth.
Blood bloomed in your mouth as his lips slanted over yours. Theo was always rough with you, but now he was angry. And that proved to be wholly different.
Hands harsh on your skin, he pulled up your skirt. Not a second thought was spared for your lacy (expensive) underwear; Theo barely pushed them aside enough to fit two long fingers into you.
He handled your body deftly, taking what he wanted and doing so roughly. You tried to be mad at his obvious disregard, but something about the clench of his jaw and the heavy heat of his mouth made protest impossible. Thought of any form seemed beyond you; as he forced a long leg between yours you ground down, whimpering at your own vulnerability.
“So pathetic. Look at yourself,” he murmured, lips kissing along your neck. Indeed, it was a rather indecent picture. With your skirt ridden up and your underwear pushed away you could easily see where he was touching you. The slick on his long fingers, the flex of his arms as he pushed into you. The stutter of your hips along his thigh, pants already wet.
“What would your boyfriend think if he saw you, hm baby?
You wanted to scream. Possessiveness laced every flux of Theo’s voice, and his dead eyes were black as they watched you.
“Theodore-“
He tsked. His full lip curled, thigh pressing hard between your legs.
“Don’t call me that.”
You desperately tried to shift away from the pressure he forced on your clit, whining gently.
“Teddy,” you corrected, “Teddy please. Need you.”
The boys ego exploded at your words. Your boyfriend didn’t have you saying things like that, he was certain. Only he made you feel like that. Only he would ever make you feel like that.
Theo let his thumb replace his thigh between your legs, rubbing back and forth. Almost desperate to get away from the growing tightness below your stomach, you shifted your hips back and forth for relief. Feelings were too close and warm—sparks seemed to tense the muscles of your limbs over and over as Theo worked you meticulously.
“Cmon now, doing so good,” he said. His voice was raw with lust and admiration as he watched your face crumple.
“Teddy Teddy Teddy Teddy,” you were saying. Name a ceaseless prayer from your lips, body strung out he kissed you hard. That was all it took; your orgasm broke through you, bringing tears and pitiful moans. You clutched at the boys shoulders, breaths heaving through you.
“Teddy.”
A whisper this time, onto the fair skin of his neck. He held your limp body gently in his big hands. You started to shiver, but urged your trembling fingers to find his belt.
“Wanna feel you,” you said. But your hand was pushed away.
“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for, amore?”
And just like that he brushed past you, not sparing a backwards glance as he left the bathroom.
You didn’t move for a second, orgasm-fuzzy brain trying to process what had just happened.
Theo had left you. Theo had left you here after making you cum on his fingers.
You felt cold all of a sudden. Cold and dirty, you realized, as you tugged your underwear back into place. It was still damp—because of Theo, because of the way he mocked you and rolled his fingers in you.
Tears were quick to gather in your eyes. Fuck Theo and his stupid comments and his stupid, stupid eyes for leaving you here.
Fuck Theo for making you feel like this—like something to be used and mocked and discarded.
As you wiped fiercely at the hot tears tracking your cheek you promised yourself no more of the brooding Slytherin.
No more Theodore Nott.
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jewishbarbies · 5 months
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“people scared to be jewish right now are getting a taste of what’s it like to be a muslim in this country.”
there were nazi rallies in madison square garden and hitler was time magazine’s cover star during wwii. we’ve known what it’s like to be hate crimed and otherwise targeted since the second we stepped foot in this godforsaken hellscape you call a fucking country. we’ve been terrified to be publicly jewish for many, many decades. do we need to remind you about the 45th president whose followers largely consisted of nazis and white supremacists and how they believe QAnon conspiracies and have a very real chance of coming to power again because YOU fuckers are threatening not to vote. or that there have been nazis protesting in multiple states for the last 3 years. the synagogue shootings and bomb threats and hostage situations. protestors flashing nazi flags in new york city.
this is not new. ask yourself why you think this is only happening now and rectify your ignorance and bigotry before it’s rectified for you.
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glosackmd · 6 months
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PROTESTS621 by a Psychiatrist's view Via Flickr: TImes Square ManHatTan Photography’s new conscience linktr.ee/GlennLosack
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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Best friends dad Joel x innocent reader
Reader is sleeping over at her best friends house. Best friend ditches her for a party/bf which leaves her alone with Joel. Joel makes fun of her innocence and pressures her into drinking/having sex with him
Night Talks
2.8k words / best friend's dad!Joel x innocent!f!reader
NSFW 18+ / joel master list
Tumblr media
gif from @serenaxpedroo , ask from @subby-bottom
WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ big girthy legal age gap, it's 2008 so 41-19 lmao, first time marijuana use, light drinking, pressure, dubious consent, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, depraved praise. reader can sit in joel's lap. haphazard editing.
-
"I know your parents are strict as hell, but you’re an adult." 
You feel uncool enough without Mr. Miller acting like you're such a square.  He takes “Cool Dad”  to the extreme.  Yeah, you're an adult, but you don't really party and you didn't feel like going. Yeah, your parents are strict. That's why you regret going to a commuter college. It's also why you didn't go home when Sarah left.  You didn't realize her hot dad was awake when you came down in your skimpy pajamas to get a drink of water.  Now your eyes are drifting to his biceps as you have this weird talk in the kitchen. But if you're looking at his biceps, at least you're not looking at his PJ pants. 
You feel defensive even though everything he's saying is true.  "I just don't like to party," you say. "Plus, they smoke weed."
He squints at you judgmentally.  "So? . . . What, you’ve never tried it?" 
You're not sure how to respond to that.  Mr. Miller is older and hot.  His judgment carries a lot of weight because of it.  You've seen him after a construction job before, sweating, arms bulging.  
"Damn, you're brainwashed as hell. . . ." He looks like he feels sorry for you.  "C'mon, let's have a beer. I've at least seen you with one of those before." It's flattering that he would notice, even though you probably didn’t finish it.
"I should probably go home"
He rolls his eyes and tilts his head as though to say "really?” Then he gets two beers out of the fridge and starts to open them.  “Let’s skip to the part where you take a sip and relax."
"Mr. Mill-"
"Oh. . ." he waves his hand dismissively. "Mr. Miller sounds creepy.  You can just call me daddy."  Your heart jumps to your throat.  Mr. Miller is creepy. 
Then he laughs. "Damn, the look on your face.  Nah, call me Joel.  Look," he hands you a Coors Light.  “Practically water."
You accept the beer. He takes a sip of his IPA, then teases, "We can watch somethin’ pg-13 if ya want.”
-
You watch Saturday Night Fever on DVD.  You think it's just gonna be dancing, but it's far saucier. He glances at you, watching your reaction to the most intense scenes.  You're embarrassed but try to ignore him.  After Joel goes to get a second beer, you’re startled when he sits down next to you on the sofa instead of back in the recliner where he was.  Your skittishness must show.  
“Relax,” he says and squeezes your knee.  His demeanor has changed. He has a whole different voice.    “I don’t bite. . .‘less you’re into it.  Can’t imagine a good girl like you though . . . Fuckin’ Miss America over here.”
Your cheeks burn.  “I’m not that good,” you protest. You're not sure why. 
“Yeah? Prove it,” he says and begins lightly stroking circles around your knee.  The challenge quickens your heart rate and sends a rush of blood to your loins before he continues, “let’s get high.” 
You're unsure if you're relieved or disappointed that's what he meant.  You resist, but he offers, “you don’t even have to smoke it.”
“What, brownies?”
“No, baby.”  The pet name makes you tingle. He reaches into the end table drawer and retrieves a small glass pipe and a lighter.  
“C’mere, I'll show ya.”  His free hand grabs yours and he leads you to the tiny bathroom.  You can't help but notice the way his soft pants hug his ass.  
-
He shuts the door behind you, then closes the toilet lid and sits down while you awkwardly stand there with your arms crossed.  You lean against the 6” of available wall space.  It’s a very, very small bathroom.   
His biceps stretch his t-shirt as he holds the pipe to his mouth and flicks the lighter on.  He moves the lighter around the weed in small circles and the glow spreads as he sucks the air through the pipe.  He closes his eyes and a sensual expression loads on his face as he inhales.  It’s a face of pleasure. His brow furrows and his eyes open.  He slowly exhales, politely pouting and pointing his lips away from you, but keeping his eyes in your direction,  shamelessly scanning your body. 
As the stench of the weed creeps into your nostrils, you reflexively reach for the exhaust fan switch on the wall and he says, “Nope. Can’t hotbox with the fan on.  That’s the whole point."
-
When the second-hand smoke starts to hit you, you feel a little woozy.  Good, but woozy.  You start to sit on the counter and he stops you.  “Sink’s not braced yet.”  
He pats his lap.  There’s nowhere else to sit unless you leave the bathroom, and you don’t want to.  So you sit on Mr. Miller's lap.  His pants are soft and his legs are warm.  You’re hesitant to put all your weight on him until he says, “Relax, I can handle it,” and he does have meaty thighs.  He strokes your bare thigh, making you wet and self conscious that you hadn’t shaved in a week.  
He looks around at the smoke in the bathroom.  “How’s it feel?” 
“Um, good,” you say.  He looks back and forth between your eyes and smiles.  
"Good, good. . ." 
You look at each other for what feels like a few minutes, playing chicken about who will finally talk next.  Then he asks, "ready for the next step?”
“Nah. . . I don't wanna smoke.”
“Don’t have to.  Just breathe out when I squeeze once."  He squeezes your thigh once to demonstrate.  "And breathe in when I squeeze twice."  He demonstrates again.  "And keep your mouth open."
You don't say anything, trying to envision what he's going to do. 
"You’re gonna love it.”
“Okay,” you say.  Why not? You’re feeling pretty relaxed. 
“Gotta face me though,” he says.  He nudges you to stand up, then he urges you back into his lap, but straddling him.  
You hesitate and resist a little. 
“Only live once baby”
-
You go ahead and straddle him, but you're very aware of how short, loose, and flowy your shorts are. You can feel the air between your legs. He takes a deep, horny breath as you settle in and his eyes darken.  
"God, you're hot," he mutters.  That's the moment you're certain he wants to fuck you.  You shyly look down and away.  
"I'm serious," he says.  
Then he spares you the need to respond, leaning back to make room between you for his muscular arms before he brings the pipe to his mouth.  He sucks in and holds the air in his mouth then turns and puts the pipe on the back of the toilet behind him.  When he faces you again, his large hands slide up both your thighs.  His chest expands as he inhales the smoke in his mouth, then he holds it in and squeezes your thighs once.  
You breathe out. He leans in, cradles your head  with one hand and opens his mouth, not exhaling yet, smoke curling between his lips, then squeezes your thigh twice.  As you begin to inhale, he blows the smoke right into your mouth. And he keeps his face close to yours as he watches you turn your head and exhale. 
“Attagirl,” he says and your heart flutters. 
Every part of you wants to kiss him right now, and it looks like he wants that, too.  He leans in a little.  
But the smoke burns, and you turn your head and cough. Joel pats then rubs your back.  "Damn, I shoulda gone slower."   When you stop coughing, your watery eyes meet his, and he cracks a smirk.  You're super high and very wet. He looks entranced by you. 
"Guess you're right," he murmurs.
"Hmm?"
"You're not that good a girl. . ." You feel conflicted hearing these words, until his hands return to your legs and he says, "Only one thing I like more than a bad girl." His hands slide all the way up your thighs and his eyes follow his hand.   His thumb easily nudges its way inside the inseam of your shorts - it happens so fast - and before you know it he lightly strokes the apex of your folds.  Your hips tilt into his touch and he strokes lower, feeling how wet you are.  With his other thumb he pulls the shorts to the side to see your pussy.  He inhales deeply through the nose, looking you in the eyes.  "Only thing better than a bad girl?  A good girl gone bad." 
His hands find your ass and pull you into his crotch where the stiffness of his warm length takes your breath away, and you softly gasp. 
“Yeahhh,” he says.  “You like that?”  
Yeah, you do, and he clearly knows you do.  But you’re super high and too embarrassed to say it.  
“Bet you're a virgin, too.”  
“I-"
“You don’t have to say it,” he whispers, to your relief.  Then he leans forward and his facial hair brushes your cheek as he brings his mouth to your ear and says, "Cause I know you don't wanna be." 
He leans back, pulling you into him harder and his arousal swells into you, making your walls twitch and your clit throb.
He wets his lips then wraps one arm around you and cradles your head with the other hand.  His lips press into yours and a wave of arousal ripples through your body.  Your nipples harden.  His tongue brushes yours and he grinds into you with a soft grunt into your mouth. You've never been more turned on. 
Your lips tear away from his as you literally swoon. He easily catches you as you slump to the side. 
"Whooaa, okay."  He holds you in one arm and reaches to open the door.  "Let's get you some fresh air."
-
He puts a hoodie of his on you and you go outside for a few minutes.  You're embarrassed.
"Sorry," you say, unsure what you're sorry for. 
"No, no, don't be sorry baby.  That was all me." He puts his arms loosely around you and you rest your head on him.  "Couldn't think straight cause you're so goddamn hot." 
You smile shyly into his shirt.  "I think I'm okay now."
"Good." He strokes the crown of your head with his whole palm. 
You ask, "Think Sarah will be back soon?"
"Doubt it.  Usually sneaks back in around dawn. Wanna watch another movie?"
"Um, sure."
"We can do whatever we want." 
-
It’s not long into the movie before things heat up again.  You’re at the end of the sofa and he has his arm around you.  He caresses you with that hand, starting with your arm, then your shoulder, then your collar bone.  Out of the corner of your eye, he adjusts himself.  “Lord almighty,” he says under his breath.  
“Why dontcha bring those pretty legs up here?”
“I haven’t shaved in-”
“Think I care?"  he urges your legs into his lap, pulls them all the way into his crotch, and presses them down on his solid wood with a soft grunt.  Your eyes go wide and you take a deep breath.  He stops pretending to watch the movie and eases your legs down flat on the sofa, scooting himself out from under them, getting on his side. 
"C'mere," he growls. He watches his fingers trail up your leg all the way to your breast as he lays down facing you, slightly on top of you.  His gaze remains fixed there as he slides his hand up your thin pajama shirt and palms a breast.  Your mouth falls open and he grinds his hard package against your hip.  Then he lifts your top up to see both your tits. "God damn," he says.  
He slides his hand into your shorts, brings his face to yours, and starts kissing you again, hard and slow, his tongue claiming your mouth, your lips softly accepting every movement of his while he gropes your dripping seam desperately and moans into your mouth.  His movements intensify, becoming more urgent as he gets between your legs.  Sweat is blotching his shirt.  He slides an arm under yours and a whiff of his armpit opens your legs. 
“Fuck yeah,” he breathes as your hips tilt for him.  He urgently tugs down your shorts, breathing heavily.  He expertly fingers you, making your toes curl.  He inserts one, then two thick digits.  Three is a stretch but not too bad.  “perfect,” he murmurs.  He fingers you for a minute, both of you getting hornier. 
-
Then he frees himself from his waistband and his thick arousal falls heavily against your slickened clit, sending a bolt of need to your chest. He drags it down and nestles his tip at your entrance, then his large hand lifts your thigh and you wrap your leg around him. He looks up at your face, reads your eyes and says in a low rumble, "yeah, you're ready for it. . . couldn't be more ready, could ya?" Maybe he’s right.  Maybe. 
He grunts as he begins to push into your tight, wet hole and you gasp at the stretch of his tip.  "C'mon now, you can do it baby."  He inhales deeply, then pushes further.  "Yeahh." It hurts, but the pain is nothing compared to the incredible feeling of being filled. He's pretty slow and gentle, but never asks if you're okay.  He pushes harder until about half his shaft is sheathed by your warmth.  "Perfect fuckin' pussy" he breathes. "Tight as hell. Wet 'n ready for this cock."
"C'mon, baby."  He retreats halfway before plunging to the hilt, parting your insides and bottoming out with a shudder.  There's an unfamiliar, primal look on his face that stirs something deep inside you.  He stays there, all the way inside for a moment as though trying not to come instantly at the feeling of you wrapped around him.  He pulls back again, all but the tip, then pushes forward, a little smoother but still a squeeze.  He does it again and groans "Yeeahh," he bottoms out.  His face makes him look like he's in pain.  
-
He lowers his chest over yours and the way he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.  He slowly backs out and fills you up again, saying "Good, that's it baby" as you tilt your hips.  He kisses you and his cock slowly recedes then pushes in again.  Your ample slick allows him to slowly pump in and out of you even with you being so tight.  
He kisses you aggressively, then plants his lips on your neck as he buries his length in you again and again.
Slower, then at a moderate pace. He kisses you.  He looks at you. "Hot as hell, baby." He gropes a breast.  Then his lips graze your throat as he fucks you. 
You’re looking over his shoulder with his face in your neck.  Never imagined this would happen tonight.  Or here, or with him, but he feels incredible.     He fills you up harder, then a little faster.  The way his back stretches his tight t-shirt is a vision.
“God damn." Your whole body is rocking with this power of his cock slamming into you.  "You’re a natural, baby." He thrusts hard with a grunt.  "Already takin’ my cock this good?” He brings his filthy mouth back to yours and keeps filling you with his thick cock. "Ohh yeah. . . " His breathing changes.  "wanna come in this tight pussy so fuckin bad" 
"You can't, I don't-"
It looks like it kills him. He mutters, "fuck," holds his breath,  then pulls out, "Ahhh," he releases the breath with a loud sigh and spills his cum on your bare stomach.  His anguished face, his cock in his hand, his cum shooting out onto your stomach, it’s the hottest scene.  You feel it searing into your mind.  
-
He tucks himself away, lies down at your side again, and starts fingering you, circling your clit.  “Look even hotter with my cum all over ya.” He’s making you feel things you thought only a toy could do, not even your own hand.   “C’mon, baby, come for me.”  It doesn’t take long before your back arches and you’re seeing stars, jolting into his big, veiny hand, his dark eyes watching you in a trance.  
As your orgasm fades, a smirk spreads across his face.  “Damn, didn’t think it’d be that easy.” 
The blood drains from your face. 
“No, no, makin’ you come, baby.  Makin’ you come.”
He cups your face reassuringly.  “You’re real damn hot, you know that? Fuck.”
-
Thank you so much for reading and interacting 🖤
This Joel evolves into the menace that is night walks!Joel.
I have a NEW dads' best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader series Left in Lincoln.
Night Walks : @tehweeana @blackvelveteen1339 @cutesyscreenname @ele-meno-p
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda
please lmk if i missed you!
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