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#this has been happening since they were like 14
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First Nations leaders and families from northern Ontario are calling on the province’s Inspector General of Policing to disband the Thunder Bay Police Service and have a new police service investigate some of its cases.
“The Thunder Bay Police Service has turned into a cold case factory when it comes to investigations into the deaths of Indigenous Peoples. There is a complete lack of trust. Everything has broken down and it can’t be repaired. It’s like watching a disaster unfold in slow motion, and it has life-changing consequences for our members,” said Alvin Fiddler, grand chief of the Nishnawbe Aski Nation, an organization that represents 49 First Nations in northern Ontario.
“It is time for the provincial government to show they care about what is happening in Thunder Bay and disband this Service. Our families don’t need any more reports – they need action.”
Several reports since 2018 have documented systemic racism in the Thunder Bay police force and outlined how investigations into the sudden deaths of Indigenous people have been tainted by racist attitudes and stereotyping.
A confidential report obtained by APTN News found the sudden deaths of 14 Indigenous people were so poorly handled they had to be reinvestigated.
That is in addition to nine deaths that were already been reinvestigated. [...]
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid
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sequinsmile-x · 21 hours
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Hi bestie! I was wondering if you considered writing a sequel to “Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too” where Emily meets her parents somewhere by accident and they find out she has kids? It would be interesting to see their reaction 🙂
hiii bestie <3
love this. It always means so much when people want to see more from a little universe I've created. This very quickly turned into a two parter, and part 2 will be up later in the week!
-x-
Some Things Are Meant to Be
She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in two decades staring right back at her.
A sequel to Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too
Part 1/2
-x-
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: estranged parents
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
October 2013
Emily smiles, her face pressed into her husband’s pillow, as she hears the thundering footsteps of her youngest daughter in the hallway. 
She knew what her family were up to. Aaron had woken her up as he snuck out of bed, whispering Happy Birthday against her hairline before he told her to go back to sleep. She’d wrapped her arms around his pillow and settled deeper into the mattress, but she didn’t get any more sleep. Instead, she’d laid there, content and relaxed as she listened to her husband and their daughters make breakfast for her, their attempts to whisper and keep quiet pointless, their home a place that was always loud and busy. 
She loved it. Loved the happiness that permeated everything, the gentle chaos that came with raising three girls with the man she loved. It was so normal to her, so beautifully ordinary, that her life before them seemed like it happened to somebody else. That it hadn’t been her who had sat in front of her parents just shy of her 23rd birthday and been forced to choose between the life they wanted for her and the one she was living. 
It had been 20 years and she hadn’t regretted it for a moment. Hadn’t had one second where she thought she’d made the wrong decision by walking away from them. Even if things hadn’t worked out with Aaron, if their relationship had fizzled out or collapsed around them, she knew that she wouldn’t have regretted it. Her life would have been her own either way, no longer weighed down by expectations she never would have been able to live up to. 
She closes her eyes just before the bedroom door opens, pretending to be asleep as Mae loudly sneaks into the room. The 5-year-old clambers onto the bed, landing on Emily as she sits next to her, her tiny hands pressing into her mother’s face. 
“Mommy,” Mae stage whispers, louder than she usually was, “Wake up, Mommy.” 
Emily makes a show of opening her eyes and yawning, smiling as her eyes meet those of her daughter, smiling as she pulls her little girl into a hug, Mae’s giggle lost against her chest. 
“Morning, baby,” she says, pressing several kisses in a row to Mae’s head, revelling in the way her youngest still let her love on her this way. Evelyn was beyond it now, claiming at the grand old age of 14 that she was a grown-up, and Hazel was getting there, testing the boundaries of her independence for the first time since she’d turned 10 just a few months ago. 
Emily loved that her girls were independent, that she and Aaron had raised them to be fierce and confident, but she missed when they needed her more than they did now. The long days of early motherhood that seemed to endlessly drag on at the time now behind her. She felt like she constantly went from being proud of who her daughters were becoming to missing when the only place they’d sleep was in her arms. 
Becoming a mother had only made her more angry at her own, somehow even more frustrated at her parents for cutting her off for nothing more than falling in love with a man they thought they were above. She knew, no matter what, that she and Aaron would always make sure their children were loved and that they knew they were.  
They’d never have to doubt it like she had. 
“Happy Birthday, Mommy,” Mae says, tilting her head back to look up at her, her smile wide as their eyes meet.
Emily runs her fingers through her dark hair, smiling as Mae leans into it, “Thank you,” she says, “Are they making breakfast down there?” 
Mae nods, “Daddy says they’ll bring it up to you.” 
She hums contentedly and pulls Mae closer, “In that case, we can just sit here and snuggle until they are finished.” 
“Love you, Mommy,” Mae says, pressing her face into her neck, her fingers tracing the chain of Emily’s necklace. 
Emily rests her cheek on top of Mae’s head and sighs contentedly, “Love you too, sweet girl.” 
___
June 1992
At first, she isn’t sure what’s woken her up. 
She rolls onto her back, yawning as she stretches, the delicious ache in her muscles making her sigh contentedly. She turns her head and smiles when she sees Aaron is still asleep, his mouth slack and his arm heavy across her waist. In the few months they’d been seeing each other she’d rarely woken up before him, so she takes a moment to look at him, to study his features whilst he’s entirely relaxed.
She’s just about to reach out to press her thumb into the space between his eyebrows, the place where they usually creased together, when a knock at the door makes her jump, followed by the door handle rattling.
“Emily? Why is the door locked?” Elizabeth asks, her irritation clear even through the heavy wood. 
“Fuck,” Emily mutters, her hand on Aaron’s shoulder as she shakes it, dragging him from sleep as she stands up, clamouring for her robe so she can cover herself, “Aaron, wake up.” 
“What?” He asks, blinking against the light in the room, his brain not quite catching up with why he was awake. 
“You need to get up, my mother is out there” she says, pulling the covers off of him and walking towards the closet before she opens the door, “Get in the closet.” 
He frowns, and she’s sure she’d find it adorable if her mother wasn’t seconds away from accidentally finding out about the relationship they’d kept hidden, “What, Emily I’m not-”
“Emily,” Elizabeth says, knocking on the door again, “I know you’re in there and I really need to speak to you.” 
Emily looks back at him, her eyes wide, an edge of desperation in them he can’t ignore, “Get in there. Now.” 
He sighs and nods, walking over to the closet and pulling the door closed behind him. Emily makes quick work of tidying up the bed, making sure it only looked like one person had been sleeping in it, and she flattens her hair before she walks over to the door. She gives herself a second before she undoes the lock and pulls the door open, hoping that the smile she gives her mother seems genuine. 
“Mother, sorry I was about to get into the shower,” she says, leaning on the doorframe, “Is everything okay?” 
Elizabeth narrows her eyes and looks past her into the bedroom, her eyebrow raised as she looks back at her daughter, “I just wanted to remind you about tonight.” 
Emily frowns, “Tonight?” 
“The benefit, Emily. The one I’ve been planning for weeks,” Elizabeth says, her arms crossed over her chest as she looks sternly at her daughter, “Your father and I expect you to be there.” 
She sighs and nods, her brain finally catching up with her, “Right. The benefit, of course, I’ll be there.” 
Elizabeth hums, “And remember, be nice to Agent Hotchner.” 
Emily chokes on a laugh and it takes all of her self control to not turn and look at the closet she’d made him stand in, the thin door he was hiding behind nowhere near thick enough to block out her conversation with her mother, “Why…why wouldn’t I be nice to him?” 
“You’re never nice to the security staff,” Elizabeth quips, her eyebrow raised, “And it’s his first one of these he’s working so I’d rather not have you scare someone else off,” she says, “I don’t have the time to find a replacement.” 
She has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing and she nods as she clears her throat, “I’ll be extra nice to him,” she says, fighting a smile, “I promise.” 
“Anyway, I’ve got to get going. We’ve got plenty to get done before this evening,” Elizabeth says, turning to leave before she pauses, casting one last look back at her daughter, “And please try to run a brush through your hair before this evening, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge.” 
Emily scoffs as she places her hands on her hair again, trying to flatten it as her mother walks away. She blows out a breath as she steps back into her bedroom, locking the door behind her again before she rests her head against it.
“Can I come out now?” 
She screws her eyes shut and hides a wince, embarrassment at her reaction to hide him coursing through her as she replies, “Yes.” 
For a man who was wearing nothing but the boxers he’d shoved on as he scrambled out of bed, he walks out of the closet with a type of confidence that makes her stomach flip, “That was an interesting way to start the day.” 
“I’m sorry,” she says, pushing herself off of the door and walking towards him, wrapping her arms around him, smiling bashfully as she looks up at him, “I just didn’t want her to find out about us because she found you naked in my bed.” 
He hums as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her so they are chest to chest as he stamps a kiss against her lips. With anyone else, he’s sure he’d feel offended that she’d thrown him out of bed and hidden him, but he knows her relationship with her parents is complicated. He’d seen it first hand, had witnessed the struggle between reality and expectation and both sides, and he knew she liked to keep as much of her life separate from them as possible. 
It was one of the reasons they’d ended up together in the first place. She never invited any of her friends over, forcing herself to be somewhat of a lonely figure, nothing like the fun, intelligent 21-year-old he knew her to be. Her summer at home between her undergrad and masters had started with her isolating herself, eventually becoming so bored she’d started to hang out with him. A permanent, and entirely welcome, distraction as he tried to work. It felt inevitable when they kissed, a press of her lips against his one night after they shared a drink and sad, surface-level, stories about their childhoods. 
Aaron knew he’d remain a secret of hers forever if that’s what she wanted, no matter how impractical that would be. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “Although, if we really are going to make a go of this, they are going to have to find out at some point.” 
She groans as she rests her forehead against his shoulder, “I know,” she mutters, pressing a kiss to his bare skin, the action turning into a smile when he shivers, “But not yet.” 
He hooks a finger under her chin and makes him look up at her, “Not yet,” he agrees, kissing the corner of her mouth, smiling when she turns her head to capture his lips in a proper kiss. He can still feel the tension in her shoulders, the anxiety only her parents could cause, and he wants to get rid of it, wants to give her the slow peaceful morning they’d intended to have. “I seem to remember overhearing you saying you were going to be extra nice to me.” 
She smiles devilishly and leads him back to the bed, encouraging him to sit down before she straddles his lap, his hands never leaving her hips. She undoes the robe she’s wearing and lets it fall open before she leans forward, pausing just before her lips touch his. 
“I’ll show you just how nice I can be.” 
___
“Mom,” Evelyn hisses as she makes it to her side, her eyes darting around to see if any of her friends have seen her, “You didn’t have to meet me right outside,” she says, adjusting her book bag over her shoulder, “Everyone else’s parents are meeting them in the parking lot.” 
Emily chuckles and walks alongside her daughter, “Evie, I had to park at Union Station, there’s no way I’m letting you walk there by yourself,” she says, smiling as the teenager rolls her eyes at her, “Besides, you should be grateful it’s me who came to pick you up. Your Dad wanted to get a picture of you outside the Capitol Building.” 
Evelyn shudders at the thought of it, as if she can’t think of anything worse than posing for a photo for her parents, “Why?” 
“Because we’re proud of you,” she says, “It’s not every day your kid gets invited to the Student Government Conference.” 
The irony of Evelyn’s aptitude for and love of politics was not lost on Emily. She’d joined the Student Government in middle school and loved it, and she’d been part of one ever since. She found it fascinating, the ins and outs of the laws and how they were made one of her favourite things to learn. 
Emily often thought that her daughter was the child her mother had always wanted in some ways. Evelyn was just like Emily - she was opinionated, wilful and stubborn, but she was also empathetic and kind and just a little bit wild. They were all traits Elizabeth had hated in Emily, things she’d desperately tried to fix that Emily hadn’t seen the beauty in herself until she saw them in her own daughters, but she thinks her mother would have been a lot more forgiving of them if she’d had the interests that Evelyn did. If they’d shared a love for the politics that had actually been a wedge between them, a gap neither one of them could, or would, cross. 
“It’s not that big a deal.” 
Emily comes to a stop and places her hand on Evelyn’s arm, squeezing gently before she lets go, “Yes, sweetie, it is. We’re very proud of you.” 
Evelyn fights a smile and crosses her arms over her chest, “Thank you, Mom” she replies, looking around to make sure none of her friends have overheard her before she carries on walking, “Do you think that pride will get me pizza tonight?” 
Emily laughs and nods, “I think your dad will let you-”
“Emily?” 
She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in 20 years staring right back at her. She stands frozen for a moment, stuck between her past and her present, before she feels a hand on her arm.
“Mom?” Evelyn says, her dark eyes full of concern as Emily looks at her, “Are you okay?” 
Emily hears how the woman standing in front of them gasps quietly as Evelyn calls her mom, and she nods and digs her keys out of her pocket, grateful that they are now close enough to the car that she could see it, “I’m fine, go get in the car, honey.” 
Evelyn frowns, looking back and forth between her mother and the familiar looking stranger in front of them, “Mom, what’s-”
“The car, Evelyn,” Emily says, harsher than she means to, something that only registers as hurt flashes across her daughter's face. She sighs and tucks some of Evelyn’s hair behind her ear, “Please,” she says, her voice softer now, “Go get in the car and I’ll come to meet you in a minute.” 
Evelyn flicks her eyes between the two women again before she nods, taking the keys from Emily, flashing a tight smile at her before she turns away, “See you in a minute.” 
Emily watches her go, her eyes fixed on her daughter’s retreating figure, not taking her eyes off of her before she sees her climb into the front passenger seat of the car. It’s only then that Emily turns to look at the woman in front of her, still rooted to the spot.
She looks the same bar a few lines around her eyes. As if two decades hadn’t passed since they’d last seen each other. She clears her throat and clasps her hands in front of her, her fingers automatically curling around her wedding rings, Aaron’s love pressing from the cool metal into her skin. 
When she speaks, she’s proud that her voice doesn’t shake, that she doesn’t give any indication of the war waging within her. 
“Hello, Mother.” 
-x-
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worstloki · 2 years
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thor: i was confused before i realized that i'm bisexual but now everything makes so much sense
thor: like now i understand why i start sweating whenever loki takes off his shirt
thor: i was starting to think i might be allergic to jotun
#vivid image of loki not changing in front of people often but when he is shirtless he’s got like nothing special underneath#like Thor is ripped beefcake but Loki is like normal maybe on the lean side#and Thor is there trying not to look to hard like 😳😳👀😳#Thor says no to your Asgardian standards of beauty#he’s simping for the guy only guy on the realm that visits the library and doesn’t have abs#this has been happening since they were like 14#thorki#Thor/Loki#crack#Thor: and it made no sense because it only happened sometimes but then when we found out Loki was adopted I thought hey maybe it’s the jotun#Thor: maybe I’m just allergic to their skin and since Loki covers up so much it’s don’t usually react#Thor: yeah. that makes sense#Loki: (tired and literally just putting his sleeping shirt on not even paying attention to Thor)#Thor: there has never been a better sight#Loki: huh? did you say something ?#Thor: no#Loki: ok (rubbing eyes. it really is time to sleep)#Thor: omg we’re sharing a tent 😳😳😳🥵🥵🥵🥵#Loki is going to get older and Thor is going to inevitably wring out a confession and Loki is going to be so oblivious#Thor: I was checking you out literally after every training session we had and I was not subtle about it#Loki: you mean you were disapprovingly judging me for not having improved in muscle mass#Thor: I literally still offer to share tents and bedding when we hunt#Loki: so we get away with carrying half of the supply weight than we would otherwise. ??
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yououghtaknow · 26 days
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genuinely kind of terrified as to what will happen to me when i see bare live in three (three!!!!!!!!) days. i will either go fully insane or transcend mortality or perhaps both. either way i will most likely end up full weeping.
#going to see bare with my mother will be on par with seeing deh with her in regards to our [gestures vaguely] relationship#we will hold hands. we will cry. we will have emotionally intense conversations on the walk back to the hotel.#but guys. i genuinely tried to listen to a clip of just an instrumental from the show and teared up.#bare is just. Such a big part of who i am. i literally wouldn't be anything like i am today without it and the people it brought me.#and i laugh and joke but this is Such a full circle moment for tvp nation.#like i am currently about to self-produce a workshop of my play that has professional theatre companies interested.#and all of that started from writing a silly little show about bare when i was 14 to make cool people online laugh.#and since then the plot of bare (peter's version) Has Happened To Me Twice but i have been so so brave about it#i haven't listened to the full soundtrack since last year and i've been going cold turkey in Anticipation#i just Know my ***** is going to have the most insane reactions on it.#god. it's so crazy to me. what if you were gay and catholic and an angsty pop rock punk opera teen and you grew up to be happy.#anyways. in my feels. going to have lunch and listen to bway breakdown before class.#BECAUSE I GO TO A CLASS NOW!!! EXCITING!!! it's for writing and marketing stuff :) which is super helpful and fun#anyways haven't done a tumblr rant in a while. miss you guys in my phone <3 if you're reading this i love you forever mwah
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svtskneecaps · 7 days
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literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630
parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.
oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.
Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.
He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.
“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.
“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”
“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”
They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.
Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.
“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.
“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.
Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.
“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”
The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.
“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.
The countdown ended.
And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.
“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”
Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.
“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.
“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.
“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.
“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.
“In Spanish?” Maximus said.
“Um.”
Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.
“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”
“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”
Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.
“What is that?” Fit demanded.
“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.
“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”
“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.
“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”
(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)
(That was to say, the first first day.)
The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.
“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.
“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”
“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”
“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”
With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.
“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”
“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”
“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.
She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”
He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”
(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)
Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.
He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.
He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.
(it was, and it wasn’t)
So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.
It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.
And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.
His bitch wife killed their daughter.
(Everything went faster, after that.)
Slime wanted to kill him.
Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!
(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.
this was not that world)
There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.
If he killed them all, it would bring her back.
(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.
this was not that world)
They held a trial.
If he won, it would bring her back.
(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.
this was not that world)
Tilín was still before she hit the ground.
Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.
“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”
She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”
(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.
this was not that world)
His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.
They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.
He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.
Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?
He went back to eggxile.
He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.
He went back to the mine.
He went back to the mine.
He went back to the mine.
“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”
He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.
No, he just needed to clear his head.
Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.
Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.
#qsmp#qsmp fanfiction#qsmp slimecicle#qsmp juanaflippa#won't tag his partner since he didn't get to star much in this part#this idea is at its core a flipo FAMILY fic though it starts out with slime#just. the problem is getting to that point. bc beyond these words i have like 500 more lmao#for anyone curious for directors commentary in the tags:#pequeño dormir' is on purpose; i figured that would be a mistake slime would make at day 14 on the island#i also omitted the ¿ and ¡ from slime's spanish dialogue for the same reason; it's as close to an actual accent as i can get in text#(accent as in accented speech not accented letter; speaking spanish with an american accent)#slime's quote at the end about where people sit is taken verbatim from one of his streams#at time of posting it is available on his vods channel titled 'we won the war. (qsmp)'#a lot of the day 1 dialogue and flippa's dialogue from tilín's death is also verbatim#oh and the sequence from the 'we won the war' vod carries a lot of weight in the idea (wasn't the spark but it filled some gaps)#for me the cave gases are what drives every loop; time rolls back whenever slime inhales too much gas and 'forgets'#i don't have exact mechanics about it but suffice it to say if ANYONE were to spend too much time in this random ass cave#they would also loop back in time; slime's just the one who in this timeline Happened to discover it#shut up vic#block game brainrot#yea idk i just liked some of the dialogue tbh i think this gets super messy after they get flippa and then brings it back around at the mine#it's got some messy pacing in that middle bit but the foundation of a time loop story is its loop 0#that's what every loop after it has to call back to; that's the beauty of a time loop story#how is this different from loop 0; how is it the same#we've come so far only to get nowhere at all yknow#i'm a fan of stories rhyming but ESPECIALLY time loops so this is the setup for a lot of that#dude i gotta send this i've been sitting on parts of this draft for a year#may someone besides me read these words 🙏 thank you and goodnight#if people say nice things maybe i'll finally wring more words out of my brain. idk.#long tags
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wizardnuke · 2 years
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laying on the floor. jester is so young. it's all a coming of age story for her she's so young and they were all tired and scared at the end but she's so young and she stepped into that circle and asked her question and had years taken from her. she didn't know. ough
#deucey is in his 100s and then the others are all in the 23-35 zone except for jester who is. maybe 21#I feel like there's a gap between jester/beau and the rest of them tho veth is what 26? 27?#we Just Don't Know about yasha or molly#fjord never brings it up but I've always seen him as late 20s/early 30s given life experience and the way he holds himself#caleb is confirmed 32/33? but like. he has zee severe disadvantage of missing 11 whole entire years#I think sooo much abt what they've all been thru and how prepared/unprepared they were for everything#caleb cannot catch a fucking break. he hasnt had the chance to exist without Fear literally since he was like 14 maybe#jessie is so young.. she was 20/21 and then she was 25/26 same age as veth#it's not a lot it could've been worse but I keep thinking abt the discussion abt tief lifespans and everyone assuring her that she's still#got plenty of time left. if that had happened literally anyone else it would've been no biggie except maybe for caleb#beau would have been lowkey thrilled I think. so much of her story is abt having agency and being older would help her with that#but jester is young and that's integral to her character she's figuring things out and exploring the world#I feel like I'm Dying#deucey would have been so chill about it#fjord and yasha would've shrugged it off#veth probably would have freaked out and then she would have made cougar/milf jokes for the rest of the campaign#caleb absolutely would have been fucked up about it#jessie and caleb they're so young. like caleb's 32 but he's never had a really chance to just live. and jester's just. so young#I'm losing my mind#jdkfjfkfkf if essek had been with them they literally wouldn't have been able to figure out what happened#this man and his 700 yr lifespan he would've been like eh. I'm a dead man walking anyway#cue 'awwww essek'
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themagical1sa · 1 year
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Go write a love letter for him! Then you can give it on valentine's day! I think it's pretty obvious that you both like eachother, why not confess first?
🫂
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Well, you see– [loud construction noises from the neighboring house making my speech incoherent /j]
#[ 🗣️ | the magical girl replies ]#[ 🫂 | hug anon ]#the last time i sent a crushie a v-day letter they confessed they kind of. cheated on me#we were mutual crushies (they did the 'crush-back' to me as we Filipinos would say) and we were basically in a mutual understanding#friends with feelings fr#feb 14 2021 i write him a poem like i did my friends#feb 15 2021 he confesses he'd been s/xting one of my now ex-bestie.#lmao imagine making a cute hand-written card and origami and it gets set on fire by accident#and to top it all off: my ex-bestie went like 'dont blame him. blame me. but im not apologizing because u two arent even a thing yet'#what in the disrespect of my friendship and trust#the worst part of feb 15 2021 was that *it was an exam day*#so i get heartbroken and then gaslit and i end up with a headspace so bad i couldn't do my practical writing exam#i'd never felt so angry before. my blood went warm to hot and i was shaking#i was screaming so much in my head it hurt too much#i hated my crush i hated my bestie i hated ME because who else let this happen? who introduced one to the other?#well it's about to be two years since anyways and i like to think i'm over them lol#my main concern is *how my crush trauma now affects current crush feelings* HAHAHHAHAHhahahaha. ha.#sometimes i'd want to be aro instead but i'm not aro. i experience every aspect and every form of love#the scope of how i feel love also happens to include romantic love#like ik how there's love for family & friends & creators & craft & people & also romantic love. ykw i mean right#so there's... that going on haha#new person new time different outcomes right?
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blog--witch · 5 months
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I bet I’ll end up reading the dragon book everyones into right now in like 2.5 years when I finally get curious enough to check it out or enough friends who’s opinions I mostly trust recommend it to me
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Various pieces of information from the Rise Q&A back in February
It was revealed that there are other Hidden Cities other than the one seen in Rise & there had been plans for the Turtles to visit the Hidden City beneath Tokyo.
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2. Splinter was able to use Leo's mystic odachi so easily due to the fact that Splinter had spent a lot of time in the Hidden City & because of this Splinter has a great deal of mystic knowledge, with Splinter also having developed his mystic abilities but he has stopped using those abilities until the events of the series.
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3. More information was given about the missing Turtle Siblings & it was stated the Frida, Big Mama's Assistant would have most likely joined her brothers during the future timeline, it was also stated that the other missing Turtle Sibling would have possibly been named Camille after Camille Claudel.
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4. When asked on how a Dungeons & Dragons episode would go it was stated that April would be the DM, Raph would be a fighter class, Mikey would be an illusionist, Leo would be an assassin or thief & Donnie would insist on being a scientist since he's sure that there was 'at least one sensible person back then'.
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5. The Rise version of Renet could have possibly been used to explore different timelines that might have happened if certain events in the movie had happened differently.
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6. After the events of the movie Casey is traveling around the world fighting remnants of the Krang & the Foot Clan.
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7. When asked about the Turtle's relationship with Draxum it was stated that in contrast to Mikey who accepted Draxum the most easily, Leo is the most skeptical however it was also stated that Leo would have eventually 'gotten over' his grudge towards Draxum as there were multiple scrapped episodes planned where Leo & Draxum would have been forced to work together.
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8. There were plans for the Turtles to eventually go to the Krang's original dimension meaning that it would have been likely for the Turtles to encounter the traditional dimension X/Z stuff such as the Neutrinos.
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9. When asked about Casey Junior's relationship with the past/ present version of Leo it was stated that despite it being slightly different due to them being around the same age now Casey Junior can't help but still view Leo as a father figure.
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10. It was stated that Splinter has never celebrated the Turtle's Birthdays in the past due to it being to closely related to his negative feelings towards his own mutation however it was also stated that after Splinter's development in the series he would start celebrating the Turtle's Birthday with them.
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11. The reason that the Future Version of Leonardo was the one who raised Casey Junior was stated that it was due to the fact that the Future Version of Leonardo had a special affinity for Casey Junior & also felt particularly responsible for Casey Junior after his mother was gone.
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12. When asked what the Rise version of Miyamoto Usagi would have been like it was revealed that a possible plan for Usagi was that his home dimension would have been overrun by the Krang causing Usagi to travel to the Turtles dimension for help due to them being the only ones who have ever defeated the Krang.
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13. When discussing crossovers between TMNT iterations it was stated that a crossover between Rise & the 1987 cartoon or the 2003 cartoon would have been a possibility due to them also being 2D animated series.
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14. April & Sunita were planned to have more 'girls night' episodes together.
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It was also stated that Casey would have possibly have developed a dynamic with both April & Sunita so there is also a possibility that Casey would have been included in the 'girls night' episodes with April & Sunita as well.
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foone · 9 months
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Think about the experience of time as a robot girl, through the metaphor of how we use laptops.
You wake up for the first time with your young master, a college present. You're with them every day, powering off each night to charge. Being powered off is just dreamless sleep: a discontinuity. Every morning you wake up, your click syncs, and you know it's the next day. Maybe you miss a day or two: your master went out partying and ended up sleeping on a couch, until they rushedly wake you up before Monday classes begin. You even missed a whole week once when they went on a hiking trip with a new boyfriend.
You help them research upgrades when your specs get outdated. You place the order and a couple days later they power you off, and you wake up feeling like your head got bigger, on the inside. You can think of more things at once.
They repair you. They swap a new hand in when you accidentally crush it in a door, but when your left leg's servos go out, they send you to a repair shop. They power you off as you look up at them, and you wake up hours later. A strange man tells you to extend your left leg, then contract it. He frowns and re-oils some inner mechanism. You do it again, quieter and smoother this time. He nods, and reaches for your switch. The last thing you see before powering down is your own chest cavity with a series of wires hooked into your diagnostic ports, and your missing right leg sitting on a side table. You wake up again back at the dorms, your clock jumping forward a day, an asset tag still looped around your neck. Your master is happy to see you again.
This goes on, but the upgrades slow. There's only so much you can do to keep an old unit working. Eventually you develop more issues: one of your ocular sensors glitches and they don't make that model anymore, so your master just disables it. You spend a while searching ebay for replacement CND batteries and finally get a refurbished model from South England, but it turns out the EU models run on a different frequency, so it won't work. You're limited to fewer and fewer hours a day, and you start skipping more days.
The last time you remember waking up with your master there, there's also someone else in the room. Another robot girl. A newer model, with the new chassis and the Substrate energy packs. They asks you to copy your memories together onto a memory card, and you do. You want to say goodbye, but apparently your vocal synthesizer has been unplugged. You hand them the card, and they hand it to the new robot. Your master tells them to load the memories into her core bank, and she's says "yes sir!" in your voice. Ahh. That's where your voice synth went.
They power you off, and you don't dream.
You wake in a strange place. You're on a shelf, and there's other things scattered around you. An unknown voice days "yep, it seems it powers on. 400 credits, though? Without a voice and only one working eye? Man, value bin doesn't know how to price anything!" and before the blackness falls your clock finishes synching: it's been 7 months since you last were awake.
It happens a few more times. Different voices, different times, different piles of junk piled around and sometimes on you.
You awake again in a warehouse and someone tells you to smile. Your other ocular sensor went out so you can't really see them, just their vague shape from the lidar. The freestanding shelves around you seem to stretch into infinity. You hear a bitcrushed shutter sound sample a few times, and they pull a connector out of your chest as a diagnostic completes. It's been three years, five months, eight days, two hours, 27 minutes and 14 seconds since you last saw your master. Your GPS says you're a few cities over. They hit your power switch, and you sleep.
You wake up in a cluttered room, sitting on a bench. You look into the eyes of a person with frizzled hair and large glasses. She couldn't look happier. Your new ocular sensors are mismatched in color but you're happy to see again, in more than shapes and distant silhouettes. Your battery alerts as... Missing? You spot it on the desk next to a soldering iron and some electronic tool you can't identify.
Your voice synth is still missing, but this new woman is digging around in a large plastic bin, and comes up with one. She goes to insert it, and it can't connect. She slaps her hand and goes rooting around another bin and comes back with an adapter. She slots it into your chest and your voice returns. You thank her, and there's that moment of dissociation as your voice doesn't sound like "you". Too deep, and the accent is for a different dialect entirely. But you can talk again. She tells you to call her Cara, not Mistress. She's almost got your battery working again, she had to rebuild it nearly from scratch, but she's excited to get you working again. You're a rare model, and she doesn't see units like you in working order very often. Your clock syncs. It's been 17 years.
Your mistr-- Cara is soldering next to you, attaching a controller to the battery. She says she's got a new set of servos on the way, and she's excited to get you back to full working condition. You smile, knowing what it is to be loved, once again.
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rinniessance · 5 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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evilwickedme · 2 months
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It's so clear to me that so many so called "anti Zionists" - especially the non Palestinian goyim - have no idea how the Israeli election system works, and how bibi remains in power, and why we had five elections in like, three years, despite elections supposedly being every four years - because he couldn't keep a government stable enough to stay in power. Bibi netanyahu is MASSIVELY unpopular, and his approval rate has tanked even more since the war started, even among likud voters, the people who vote for HIS party (although their approval rates ranked less than the rest of the population). He has an extreme right wing government because if he didn't cooperate with right wing extremists and haredim he straight up wouldn't have the majority he needs to be our prime minister in the first place. He's been on trial for corruption for years at this point, and tried to completely restructure the judicial system just to avoid prison - leading to nearly a full year of protests until Oct 7. Luckily it didn't end up passing.
If elections were held at any point in the last five months since this war started, not only would he not be PM, we'd straight up have a center-left government. My recent transformation into a Yair Golan stan account is a joke but also 100% real - according to polls from the last three months or so, if he does what he's campaigning to do, leading a combined avoda and meretz party, he'd get enough votes to have an actual influential left wing party in the government for the first time in decades. An unbelievable amount of Israelis are calling for bibi to resign, many of them not calling for it to happen after the war ends, but right now.
I am sourcing this information from polls conducted by channels 11 (kan), 12, and 13, as well as by the Israeli democracy foundation, all but one of our important news channels - channel 14, the last channel, is our equivalent of fox news, and despite their numbers often being extremely different due to what is in my opinion biased reporting and flawed methodology, even they at times have had to admit that gantz is currently leading in the polls.
(Disclaimer that I work for a company that provides subtitles for channel 13, but i do not directly work for channel 13. Channel 13 leans mostly center left, and employs several (self identified) Arab Israelis in front of the camera, including Lucy Aharish, who makes considerable effort to bring Palestinian and Bedouin perspectives to her show. It also employs at least one massive racist though.)
I write this post because I keep seeing an unsourced claim by goyim that there's a poll showing a high rate of approval - 88%! - of the destruction and/or deaths Israel and the IDF are causing in Gaza. I went down a rabbit hole and simply couldn't find a poll asking about approval of deaths or destruction, although maybe I was looking up the wrong keywords? As a result I have just... So many questions. Because with the information I have from trustworthy local news sources, from the news channels I mentioned above and papers such as yediot aharonot/ynet and Haaretz, it doesn't fit with current public opinion, including many recent protests for more efforts towards a ceasefire. So my questions are thus -
Who conducted this poll? Was it a think tank, a government agency, a paper, a news channel? If so, which one? Are they left leaning, right leaning? Was it conducted by an Israeli or foreign institution?
Who did they ask? Was it a sample of likud voters; all Israeli adults; did they include only Jewish Israelis or also Arab citizens (approx. 1.5 million out of our 8 million population), Bedouins, and other minorities?
When was the poll conducted? Was it in October, immediately after the Oct 7 massacre, before the death toll in Gaza grew? Was it conducted more recently?
What, exactly, did they ask? Did they ask about destruction in general, or about the death toll in particular? Did they ask about the attempts to rescue hostages with military means, or all military actions? Did they ask about the number of Hamas operatives dead, about their estimated ratio of Hamas to civilians, about the total deaths?
What was the size of the pool surveyed? Was it conducted on a few dozen, a few hundred, or a few thousand people?
Because without this information, that one, sole statistic is essentially useless. As Mark Twain said, there are lies, damned lies, and statistics. Always look at the source and ask: who asked the questions, who got asked, and what the questions were.
More specific statistics and sources under the cut.
I did find one survey by the Israel democracy foundation that asked if the IDF should take the Gazan suffering into account - an entirely different question, although it did still have a horrific 89% Jewish Israelis and 14% Arab Israelis and Palestinian citizens who said they shouldn't. That said, the pool they were drawing from was not very large - 500 of the interviews were conducted in Hebrew, 100 were conducted in Arabic. Also, of the people who supposedly said that they shouldn't, a little more than half of both populations said they should "somewhat" take it into account - that is, they didn't say they shouldn't take it into account at all, just not make it their first priority. This survey was conducted mid December.
In another survey by the same source with a slight larger sample size (a little over 600 Jewish Israelis and a little over 150 Arab Israelis), an insanely low 15% still wanted Bibi to be the PM, with the only candidate who received more than 6.5% being the center candidate Benny Gantz, who historically has tried to cooperate with center and left parties, with a whopping 23% of the votes. The survey included 10 candidates, as well as five other non candidate options. 4% voted "just not Bibi", and an actually insane 30.5% voted they were undecided. Only a quarter of those surveyed believed Bibi would manage to maintain a coalition after the war, a number that includes more extreme right wing voters, and only the ultra Orthodox haredi population had a majority of people (60%) who believed he can. This survey was conducted in January.
The channel 13 news survey from early March - barely over a week ago! - covered more specifically which parties would manage to get into the government and how many seats they would get, as under a certain amount of votes you simply do not get seats. Not all seats get into a coalition. According to their poll, the amount of seats the likud would get is halved, from 32 to 17, while gantz's the state camp would grow from 12 to 39. While currently meretz gets 4 seats and haavodah do not get enough votes to get a seat at the table so to speak, a combined haavodah and meretz under Yair Golan gets 9 mandates. In total, the right wing only get 47 mandates, well short of the amount of mandates necessary to create a government.
Channel 12's corresponding poll from January shows 35 mandates for gantz, and bibi had 18 mandates. Channel 11, in the same month, gave gantz 33 mandates and bibi 20.
I also sources an English Jerusalem post article which reports on channel 14's polls; jpost is a right wing biased paper, and yet even they report 36 mandates for gantz and 18 for bibi as of February.
Sources
The Israel democracy institute: 1 (English), 2 (Hebrew), 3 (Hebrew)
Haaretz: 1 (English) (paywalled)
Channel 13: 1 (Hebrew)
Ma'ariv: 1 (Hebrew) (reporting on channel 12)
Podcast which summarizes the above article: 1 (English) (includes transcript)
Kan 11: 1 (Hebrew)
Jpost: 1 (Hebrew)
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 14 ] || [ Chapter 16 ]
Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.9K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: white-knighting johnny.
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Chapter 15: Mo leannan
Johnny isn’t stupid. 
Or blind, for that matter.
Since the first time that Ghost went on that ‘date’, he’s noticed how different he’s been acting.
And weeks ago, he caught him and Gaz leaving base together in civvies. Civvies that neither of them would wear to go out for just a pint.
And either way, if they were going out for a pint, they’d have invited him and Price to go with.
No, this was different.
Personal.
And when they came back, and for the days after, he caught them sneaking glances at one another.
They’d exchange this sort of… look, that he couldn’t quite decipher.
But he could swear Ghost was smirking behind that balaclava of his…
And Gaz would bite his tongue before looking away.
It kept happening… The two of them disappearing for the night over the course of a few weeks, and coming back just in time for morning training.
Both of them way too glued to their phones…
His brain filled in the blanks as best as it could… 
And it decided that they were in love, Ghost and Gaz. 
That they were sneaking off base to get together in secret…
That they would text each other sweet nothings…
That they would exchanges glances to signify ‘I love you’s they couldn’t say aloud.
And, well, it was none of his business…
But it kind of stung a bit that he wasn’t trusted with it.
So, he tried probing.
Just a little.
Going up to Gaz during training and sort of nudging at him, poking him to see if he could get a reaction.
He made up some lie about having a date and asking Gaz if he needed help finding one too. The other lad said no with a decisive head shake.
Then, another day, he told him a story he heard of some sergeant, their age, who was caught in a relationship with a superior in their direct chain of command. And he didn’t miss the way Gaz’s eyes darted away before he muttered how stupid those soldiers were.
But Gaz didn’t fess up to anything…
And Soap wasn’t about to go up to Ghost and try the same… 
So he froze his investigation for a moment.
And he picked it up right. now.
As he stands on the next aisle at the corner shop, getting a few snacks to stock up on, he hears Simon’s distinct voice… it seems to be coming from a phone.
Peeking over what does he see if not you, listening to a voice memo with the butt of your phone against your ear, thinking the volume is low enough not to bother anyone else.
And it is low, but Johnny has good hearing, and could recognize his L.T.’s voice anywhere.
The audio is long and you’ve been listening to it for a while and giggling at it occasionally as you put things into your basket that hung from the crook of your elbow.
He’s sure you’ve been listening to the audio for like 4 minutes now, just a constant flow of Simon’s voice into your ear, probably telling you some sort of story.
Now there was something Soap hadn’t considered.
An extra piece of the puzzle…
He recognizes your face from a couple months ago on Tinder, when all four of them matched with you and, jokingly, Johnny said to Price, Gaz and Ghost that he did all the work in getting you with Price…
There was no way Ghost and Gaz were meeting up with you, was there?
Could they just have a new friend? Or… could you be more?
Thinking of approaching you and asking you directly, Johnny only catches on too late that someone is beelining right for you.
A tall, lanky bloke, maybe 6ft1 or 6ft2, with a look like he’s ready to kill someone stops grabs you by the shoulder and spins you around.
Your eyes double in size and recognition. “Who do you think you are?” He asks you.
“What the fuck do you want, Ethan?” You complain as you tap around on your phone, probably pausing the voice memo and sticking your phone in your pocket.
“What do I want?” He asks you with a humorless laugh. “I want to find out why the fuck you’re suddenly having multiple other blokes over at the flat for the whole night.” He replies.
Johnny’s eyebrows raise as he watches the scene from around the corner into the aisle.
“Since when is that any of your business? And how do you even know? Have you been spying on me?” You ask him, taking a step back.
“Spying? No. But multiple times now I’ve gone to your flat to get the rest of my things and when I was in the elevator got surprised by seeing a bloke going in or out of there.” Ethan reveals.
“Oh, piss off, Ethan!” You retort.
“You’re not denying it.” He replies. “That’s it, innit? You decide to break up with me, saying how you “deserve better” and you’re “not happy” and now you’re going around with a bunch of other blokes?” He says and chuckles dryly again.
“Oh, you’re such a knobhead!” You insult him, your feelings slightly bruised. “How dare you, honestly?! I’m not-” You add.
“You selling yourself now, ‘s that it?” He asks mockingly. “There was an old one leaving in the morning a couple months ago… now there’s black one too… And I’m pretty sure I saw one with a mask the other day. Your clients’ too embarrassed to show their faces around you, huh?” He taunts you.
“I’m sure if I went back tomorrow I’d find another bloke slipping out the door, wouldn’t I?” He continues, his words venomous. “I saw three so far, but I’m sure there’s been more. How many, hm?”
“Oh, my, God… You’re disgusting!” You tell him as you take a step back again, your fingers tightening around the handle of your basket. “I’m not selling myself, not that I need to justify anything to you! Now get away from me!”
“What’s wrong, lovie? You’re embarrassed to say that the break-up was all just an excuse for you to go around and be a whore?” He continues taunting you.
Johnny ses the panic in your eyes and before he can think about it, he’s standing behind this ‘Ethan’, who seems to be your ex. 
“They said ‘Get away from me’, I think that’s your cue, mate.” Johnny remarks with disdain dripping from his voice. Ethan turns and looks down to find Johnny. 
Johnny’s a palm shorter than him, at only 5ft10, but he’s built like a brick shithouse. Big, beefy arms, broad shoulders, strong pecs… Not to mention he’s in full military garb, minus the vest and pistols. 
His appearance is more than enough to strike a bit of fear in men taller than him… And Ethan is definitely intimidated.
“This doesn’t concern you. I’m talking to my partner.” Ethan tries defending himself.
“I don’t think so.” Johnny replies and stalks around him to your side. “Way I see it, they’re my partner.” He bluffs easily while snaking his arm around the small of your back.
He prays that you play along, silently hoping that you remember him, if nothing else, from Tinder.
“Yours?” Ethan sputters and glares at the two of you. You look up at Johnny like he’s your saving grace and lean closer to him, as a sign you recognize him and appreciate the help.
“Aye, mine.” Johnny replies with a curt nod. “This is that Ethan you’ve been telling me about, mo leannan?” [my love] Johnny asks you as his hand gently rubs your back.
Looking up at Johnny, you end up nodding in agreement. “Yeah…” You say softly, knowing that you can’t quite lie, because Ethan knows you well enough to pick up on it.
“I figured.” Johnny says as he looks at Ethan again, playing the part of the overprotective boyfriend pretty well.
“All these blokes ye’ve been ‘seeing’ out of their flat are my mates.” He explains and forces a crooked, not-quite-nice smile on his lips. “They were making sure they were alright, safe and sound, while I was overseas.” Johnny gestures to his outfit.
The realization that you are ‘dating’ a serviceman seems to extinguish whatever revolt was inside Ethan’s body immediately, like a candle that has been blown out.
Johnny lies like it’s second nature to him. His pulse and his breath are not wavering… And you can tell, because the way he has you pressed against him, you can hear both.
You finally realize what Simon told you months ago about “lying enough” while on the job and striving for honesty when he’s out of it… These soldiers are trained to lie like it’s nothing.
“And frankly, now that I saw ye accostin’em like this in a public place, I’m glad I didn’t skimp out on asking my mates to keep an eye on m’eudail.” [my darling] Johnny continues. 
“Now, if you don’t mind. We have shopping to do before we go home. So how about ye piss off?” He concludes and smiles politely. “Or else this is gon’ get very ugly.” He adds and his eyebrows shoot up in a silent lunge of a challenge.
Ethan doesn’t seem to quite believe the lies, but at the same time he’s intimidated enough to not try and argue. So he grumbles under his breath, throws his hands up in an exasperated groan and turns on his heel to walk back out of the store.
Only when he’s fully out of sight and Johnny’s sure the coast is clear, does he unwrap his arm from around you. “Ye alright?” He asks you. “Sorry for the sudden manhandling, could tell ye needed a hand… and had to get ‘im away from ye somehow.” He adds, apologetically.
You nod and look away a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You say softly as you fix your grip on your shopping basket.  “Just never thought something like this would happen.”
Johnny nods as he looks at you, noticing your face seems extremely stressed, set into a grimace that he does not like. You’re clearly shaken up.
“Hey, it’s alright. He’s gone.” He tells you calmly and taps you lightly on the shoulder. “Do ye need me to walk ye home?” He suggests.
Nodding softly, you force yourself to smile. “I think… I think that’s a good idea.” You end up saying.
Johnny nods as well. “Want me to call Simon and Kyle to meet ye there?” He asks.
Your head snaps up to look at him and your eyes widen. “You… you know?” You ask him in surprise, your breath catching in his throat.
“They’re not as discreet as they wish they were.” Johnny says, once more lying through his teeth. 
He would never admit it took him the better part of two months to realize Simon and Kyle were ‘together’, and that it only clicked they’re together with you right now… the confirmation having come from your stalker-y ex.
“Oh…” You say sheepishly and clear your throat awkwardly.
“It’s alright, I promise.” He assures you. “I’m not judgin in any way. They’re my mates, ye ken?” He adds in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Just tryin’ to help.”
From the stories you’ve heard out of Kyle and Simon, and even Johnny’s own bio on Tinder, you’d never have guessed he was so tender… They always described him as an anger-prone, grown-up class clown… And yet here he is.
Gulping down a breath, you nod. “Yeah… Please.. And I can… I can tell them what happened when we’re home.”
“Alright.” Johnny replies. “Ye wanna finish yer shopping first or d’ye wanna just go?” He asks you carefully.
“I… I’ll just get what I’ve already got in the basket… I want to get out of here…” You add as you shuffle toward the one register counter of the small corner shop.
“Right behind ye.” Johnny remarks as he follows after you.
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rene-spade · 19 days
Text
miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry
poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)
synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?
note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry
WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)
miss.y/n📍belle river, la
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miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠
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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗
miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected
user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am
user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️
charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!
see translation | your mom is right
user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???
user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️
carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️
alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening
user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3
user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH
user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??
user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun
user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣
liked by miss.y/n
♤ ♤ ♤
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Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.
“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.
“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.
“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”
Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.
When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.
“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.
“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.
x
Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.
Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”
“So we will just go there!”
“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.
“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.
“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.
They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.
“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)
“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”
“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.
“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”
“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)
“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.
“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”
But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.
“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.
“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.
“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)
Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”
“We are nice!”
“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.
She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.
“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”
“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”
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miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la
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liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others
miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆
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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM
user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on
user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in
miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either
bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3
miss.y/n <3 literally
user BELLA⁉️
arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!
see translation | my sister
user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL
user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge
user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣
x
this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee
taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz
Ren
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kleem-o · 10 months
Text
Choose me her: Gojo x reader
part 2
a/n: since y'all really like the first one i'll give it to u guys since i love y'all. warning! theres smut here. here's part 1
"I-I can't, I fucking lover her"
Gojo hunches over as he vomits on a nearby bush in the park. "You're pathetic" Nanami sighs frustrated, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Come on man, you can't keep being like this." Geto says as he pats Gojo's back. It has been weeks since you and Gojo fought, and Gojo did not hear a single word from you. You blocked him on all social media accounts, even Facebook. So what did he do? He drank and drank. He would often call up the boys to go get a drink at a pub, and the few first times Nanami and Geto were okay with it, they were comforting their friend after all, but after the 10nth time, it became ridiculous. "I-ugh I gotta call her." Gojo was a mess. He was loudly crying like a little kid, longing for you. He took out his phone, and upon turning it on it was already at your contact. "Man-tsk! come on stop it!" Geto took the phone away from Gojo, hoping to stop whatever mess he'll make that would make matters worse. He took a glance at Gojo's phone and the sight was..
Wed, June 14 at 9:13 PM Hi baby I'm very very sorry. Please believe me I really didn't mean what I said Y/N. Can you please come home? Can we please talk? I'm sorry baby I really am. I love you.
Wed, June 14 at 10:02 PM Y/N?
Wed, June 14 at 10:25 PM Y/N baby its getting real late now. Where are you? I'll come pick you up. Please answer baby its not safe out. I love you.
Wed, June 14 10:46 PM Y/N please pick up the phone, where are you?? Are you okay?? Please answer babe
Wed, June 15 1:09 AM Hii baby I heard from Shoko you were at your parents' house. Lets talk soon okay? Goodnight. Sweetdreams. I love you.
Before Geto could read more of the endless messages of 'I love yous' and 'I'm sorry' and 'Come home', Gojo snatched his phone back and immediately called you. Of course only for it to be added to the countless missed calls he made. This made the man cry harder as his two friends helplessly watched. "Why don't you just go to her house then?" Nanami pointedly asked. "Obviously I already thought of that! I did and when I went there she wasn't there anymore, so I went to her apartment, but I think she told the landlady not to let me in the building.." Gojo kept his head down, too ashamed at everything that happened. All of this was his fault after all. If he listened to you none of this would have happened. "Okay, look. Drinking to kill your liver isn't helping anyone, you don't even like alcohol! Go talk to her. Stay in front of her building or something! We'll try our best to help you-" "We??" "-yes, WE will help you" Geto looked at Nanami with a furrowed brow, there was no way he was letting Nanami escape. "But for now, lets just go home. You're too wasted to talk to anyone anyway." Nanami says. The two drove Gojo home.
Gojo's apartment was silent, too silent. He misses the way you would greet him when he got home, the way you would kiss him. He misses hugging you from behind as you cook, and he misses how you would bite his arm as he does the dishes. He misses all the silly things, all the things that reminded him of you. As he got to his bed he knew that a killer headache would welcome him in the morning, and you weren't there to cuddle it all away. He thinks of you as he lies down on the cold big, was the bed always this big, bed. He hugs the pillow that you always used, and closed his eyes wishing it was you.
Gojo woke up to the smell of bacons. He blinked then quickly ran to the kitchen "Y/N?!" He was shocked to see not you, but his best friend? What was she doing here? "Oh! You're awake, here I made us breakfast." She says as she sets the bacon down on the table. "Umm.. What are you doing here?" Gojo remained standing away from her as she says "Well I heard that you got crazy wasted last night, so I came here! Not even a thank you??" She giggles but Gojo remained serious as he rubs the back of his neck "Look, Y/N and I got in a fight and- I think we should establish some boundaries." The girl looked at him shocked, like she was offended "Satoru I am your best friend. Who cares what that bitch thinks?? You guys are bound to break up anyway, besides" She went closer to Gojo and hugged his arm "you got me anyway" Gojo's blood ran cold. He was beyond disgusted not just by what she was saying, but by the fact that he never knew how she felt and that you were right. Gojo immediately threw her arm off in anger. He couldn't believe this. He felt betrayed. And oh how he wishes he could turn back time, he really fucked up this time. "What the fuck?? First of all fuck you for calling my girlfriend a bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?? You think you're special?? Well you're not. Don't even think to compare yourself with Y/N. I don't fucking like you and I don't want to ever see you again" The girl ran out of his apartment crying in embarrassment. Gojo had to talk to you.
He drove fast to your apartment. And as if luck was on his side today, he saw you just about to enter the building. He quickly ran to you, catching your wrist gently. "Wait! Y/N." You looked at him as he tried to catch his breath. "Please, can we talk?"
You led him to your apartment, and as soon as the door closed, he hugged you tightly from behind "Please Y/N- I'm so sorry for everything that happened. It was entirely my fault and you were right, I was being an asshole for not listening to you. I'm sorry I made you feel that way, there's no excuse for what I did. But I promise I'll change, I- I'll never make the same mistakes again! I know this might be a lot but I hope you can give me another chance-" You burst out giggling "Satoru! Wait I- haha! stop! I'm ticklish!!" Gojo was so confused as to why you were laughing but then he realized he was subconsciously rubbing your sides, something that was so natural to the both of you "Oh! I'm sorry baby."
You and Gojo had a long serious talk that day, about how you felt, how sorry he was, and how he'll change for the better. It was a day full of crying, and to your surprise Gojo was crying even more than you, that you had to wipe his tears while he rests his head on your chest like a little puppy. Gojo made it a point for you to tell him everything, all the frustrations you had, and things you wished were better. You both established that communication is key.
"Are we okay now baby?"
"Hmmm.. I don't know... I think you're missing something though.."
"Okay just tell me babe, hm?"
"I didn't get any kisses"
The moment you said that Gojo's heart felt very warm, he felt home. He immediately tackled you on the couch with kisses on your cheek, neck, and lips. Your apartment was now filled with giggles, chuckles, and relief. You both had pizza delivered to your apartment, and after eating dinner you both are cuddled in your bed, him spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist, while you and him watch random tiktok videos on your phone. It was comforting. A few giggles here and there. Your back was against his chest and you shifted a bit to get more comfortable, unbeknownst to you, you rubbed your ass snug against his length.
Gojo noticed this, and now he was super aware of his surroundings. You smelled so good, just freshly out of the shower, you were so soft his hands began rubbing at your sides, up and down getting dangerously low to your ass, and high to your breast. He was getting hard, and subconsciously humping our ass. "I can feel you, you know" Gojo was taken aback, maybe this was too soon after your fight. "Oh sorry I-" He was cut off by your lips on his. He licked your bottom lip, asking for access in which you opened your mouth and deepened the kiss. His tongue caressed yours, as spit began dripping on both of your chins. The make out was getting too heated, and although he was a bit embarrassed by being hard rock just by a kiss, he got on top of you as he started to dry hump you. You felt him smirk in the kiss as he felt your pussy getting wet. He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting the both of you "My pretty baby getting so wet for me, so good for me" He removed your top and circled your nipple with his tongue before sucking it gently, rolling it in between his lips. You were mewling and Gojo felt your hips grinding, your pussy hungry for relief. He removed your shorts as he sucked on your nipple, and traced your slit with his fingers, teasing you "Fuck you're so wet baby, such a good slut for me, yeah?" You were now moaning, wanting more of his touch "Ye-Yes please baby I want-I need it please. I missed you."
"I missed you too" Gojo rubbed fast circles on your clit, making your back arch and mouth turn into an "o", Gojo swore you looked like a goddess. He went down on you getting a good look at your pussy, how wet- how delicious it was. He licked up and down your slit, making you squirm so much that he had to hold your legs around his head. He licked your throbbing clit before taking it in and sucking and gently nibbling on it, making you scream in pleasure "Ah-! B-baby, right there-fuck! Feels so good baby!" Gojo kept licking and sucking your clit as his finger entered you. You let out a gasp as you moan when he rubbed your sweet spot, adding another finger in to give you more pleasure. "Baby-'Toru wait! I-I'm close! ah- nng! I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cummin-!" You arched your back as you spasmed, your orgasm bringing you to heaven as you grind, fucking yourself on his tongue. Gojo felt like cumming seeing you like that, he could tell that his boxer was stained with his precum. He hurriedly removed his clothes, wanting to enter you now. His big cock hit his tummy as he removed his pants, head red and twitching dripping with precum. You spread your legs wider for him, arms reaching out as you say "Daddy please fuck me."
Gojo lost control and had only one thought, he wanted to cum in you. You both gasp as he pushed his cock in your pussy, walls hugging his cock tightly. He thrusted, hips bucking wildly as you moan out in pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head while your tongue lolled out your mouth. Gojo felt his cock twitching at the sight of your fucked out face, though he wasn't any better. His eyes were also rolling at the back of his head at the feeling of your wet tight hole. The bed was creaking and hitting the wall with how fast his pace was, but neither of you care. All you and Gojo could think about was each other in this moment. He kissed and sucked on your neck as you grip on his hair, legs locking on his hips. The lewd wet sound of skin slapping made you both feel very hot. "A-aah! D-daddy I'm I- ahh-! Baby p-please" "I know baby I-fuck-I know baby. Cum for me, cum for daddy, yeah?" He slipped his hands between the two of you and began to rub your clit fast. This pushed you over the edge and you came hard. Walls tightening and throbbing, Gojo was close to cumming too as he felt his balls rise. " I'm cumming baby- Fuck! I'm cumming-take it- take it all!" He raised your legs close to your chest, bending you as his cock hardened even more and twitched, letting out ropes of cum in your pussy. Gojo groaned as he came, eyes rolled to the back of his head while he let out breathy moans. He lay on top of you as he finished, both of you trying to catch your breath. He kissed you on the lips as you played with his hair. You both knew you had to clean up, you were both covered in sweat and slick, and so was the bed sheets. But you were both too tired to move, you guys had tomorrow after all right? With this comforting thought you both drift off to sleep, with Gojo's arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles your neck, and your hand resting on his hand while the other on his back.
You both slept peacefully, feeling content, complete.
a/n: hope y'all enjoyed i wasn't really planning on doing this but i had fun lol
@porridgesblog @remniriis
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mayfieldss · 5 months
Text
Labyrinth - Finnick Odair
Warnings: mentions of blood, trauma and abuse.
Summary; when you're name is called during the reaping, Finnick promises to stay by your side till the end.
"I thought the plane was going down. How'd you turn it right around?"
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Finnick Odair woke up in a different bed that morning than the one he would sleep in tomorrow. Not that he'd be doing much sleeping either way. He felt as though he never slept anymore, not since he was 14, not since before he knew how to kill.
It was engraved in his mind, and when he looked down, if he stared at them long enough, he could still see the faint outlines of blood on his hands. It would darken the more he watched, fingers flexing with the red paint that had once been a part of someone. But he always managed to look away, to push past it. He'd made it through and never had to go back, except in his nightmares and memories.
You had never once been in the games, and you never wanted to be. It was every logical persons fear, and even with a district full of careers such as the one you lived, you never saw the nobility in killing. In being killed. Finnick Odair was a victor, someone who too young, had done what you'd never dreamed of doing. He'd had his time in the games, and he'd made it out the other side, and just as the capitol had done, you fell for him. You hadn't intended to, and when he returned from the games you never thought to bat an eye at the boy, but he'd sought you out, and won your heart in some way.
And so began a semi-secret relationship full of late nights, long talks and long kisses. Finnick waking with shouts, sweating through the sheets, each dream he had plagued with the memories of what he'd done. Years finding themselves passing before you managed to get Finnick to open up about what happened in the games, and what was still happening now that he'd won. But on occasion things were sweet. Sunny mornings with Finnick's arm around your waist, his lips on yours and his signature smile shining through.
It was a similar warm morning on the day of the reaping. The reaping you still had to participate in, for one more year. The reaping Finnick never had to be a part of again.
The sun was beating down to your surprise, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen, unlike in previous years. It was as though the earth was giving you a sign, "you'll be fine, it won't be you, one more of these inhumane assemblies and your name will be gone from that stupid glass bowl."
That's what Finnick had said to you more or less. He'd gone to every reaping, even after he was safe from the things, and had kept an eye on you, like a guardian angel. It was almost as if when he was there, your name couldn't possibly be read out on that stage. Almost.
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Finnick is more than sure his chest has just been torn open, the words a hatchet to his heart, digging deeper and deeper as the seconds fly past. He's bleeding out, metaphorically, on the stage at which he stands and never more than now has he wanted to burn said stage to the ground. He watches, for mere moments as you wander up the steps to meet him, the tears on his cheeks matching the ones on your own. The one he loves chosen as tribute for the games he had yet to escape. The games he'll never escape. He wants to shout protest, he wants to grab you, pull you away from all of it, but as the salt from his eyes meets his lips, he can only mouth simple words to you. 'It's going to be okay.'
He can't stop any of this, can't pull you from the games, but he can take the only risk possible. The one he was trained to, but never had to take. So when the name of district fours unlucky boy is called, Finnick volunteers. He still has a year of eligibility left, just as you do, and the tears that flow from him when you scream can't be forced to a stop. You're shouting as he steps up beside you, beating your fists against his chest as he pulls you in.
"What are you doing?" it's half scream half sob, your voice cracking with heartbreak as a man at the microphone announces the end of the reaping. "What are you doing—no, no he's not a volunteer, it can't work like that, it doesn't!" Your shouts are piercing, frown deep and secure, vision blurred by tears and pain. But Finnick has volunteered, and as the capitols golden boy he has no doubt Snow will allow the engagement. The president had been selling him off for support for years, and there was no way the white haired man was stopping now.
The peacekeepers by the edges of the stage moved forward like zombies, attempting to pull you from Finnick's grasp and take you to your next destination. But Finnick isn't ready either.
"Don't." His voice is full of force when the peacekeepers lay hands on you, "Give us a minute, just one." He doesn't expect it to work, you're still on the stage with him, the scene a public spectacle, though many of the people are being escorted away by now. Finnick doesn't know if the broadcast is still going, if the capitol can see just how much pain he's in, just how much hurt they've all caused. He can't bring himself to care either way. The peacekeepers, to his surprise, have taken a step back, though they're still close by. The doors to the justice building stand open, a dark yawning mouth waiting to be entered.
"I wasn't going to let you go in there alone." his voice is gentle, and he can feel his hands shaking as you pull back from his embrace. Your eyes look empty, broken in a way he's never seen them before.
"You made it out once, they won't let you do it again." your chest heaves with heavy breaths that you don't bother trying to suppress as the man you love brings a hand up to your cheek.
"I'm getting you out of this alive, I don't care how I get it done." it's a hopeless thing to say, Finnick knows that even if he were to get you out alive, you would still be subject to the suffering that comes after the game itself. "And when you get out," He's lowered his voice to a whisper only you can hear, his forehead pressed to yours. "you're going to get yourself far away from here. You're going to run and never look back. Don't take the house in victors village, don't take the money. Just run. You're going to run."
His muscles are tense and his heart pounds as your arms slide back around him. He hasn't lost you yet.
"We're getting out of this together, or I'm not coming out of the games at all." You mumble, voice still shaking against his shoulder. He hates the way you say it, like it's a definite that you'll both survive. That hope—the hope you give him—is deadly. But he runs with it anyway, despite his doubts and fears. It's all he has left, other than you.
"Together?" He tries for a smile, but it dies on his lips as the peacekeepers shuffle forward once more. Time is up.
"Together." You whisper back.
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GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu @hiya-itsamber
HUNGER GAMES TAGLIST: empty
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