#It's been April 1 since I continued this

[himarithecheerfulgirl]

I head canons some things for the club leaders around March 30, so lemme share some over here ✨ If there's anything wrong then I apologize </3 Here’s for Amai Odayaka!

Amai Odayaka 🥯🧁

She would always wanted a pet cat in the house but unfortunately, she can’t have one at the moment so whenever she saw a cat wandering around the streets she would gently carry it and went to the animal shelter for caring.

In the weekends she would draw the meals that her mother baked/makes for their shop because of how delicious the servings are in the bakery.

Other than cooking, she also likes gardening and would usually admire Uekiya planting in her garden in the school.

Her favorite plant would be the Green Chrysanthemum, because of the cottage garden schemes, and also Uekiya showed it to her as a gift.

She, Akane, and Uekiya would usually hang out around the weekends, they would be either hanging out in a cafe chit-chatting or visiting Uekiya’s garden. (This is my favorite hc-)

She loves her parents so much that she would always help them out in the bakery, whenever their in-home she would gladly do the chores for them as well in case they are tired.

#yansim #yandere simulator #amai odayaka #amai #head canon #It's been April 1 since I continued this #Amai Odayaka head canons #akane toriyasu #uekiya engeika #yandere sim

[apopcornkernel]

i was wallowing and shit and then i realized that i actually have been talking to my crush nonstop literally every day and that part of the reason why i was wallowing was because of the absence of his usual chat messages 😭😭😭😭😭😭

#I SCROLLED UP OUR CHAT (you can tell i have a lot of time on my hands rn) AND WE'VE LITERALLY BEEN HAVING A CONTINUOUS CONVERSATION SINCE #MARCH 19 TO APRIL 3 (YESTERDAY) #AND THE CONVERSATION BEFORE THAT ENDED ON MARCH 17 SO THERE'S LITERALLY JUST ONE (1) DAY OF SILENCE BEFORE IT STARTED AGAIN #AND THAT DAY WAS BECAUSE HE WAS SICK (INDIGESTION OR SMTH) #LIKE #HOLY SHIT? #i knew i really liked him but i never realized how much we talked???? #crushposting #poppy speaks

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Queen - The Show Must Go On 1991

Innuendo is the fourteenth studio album by the British rockband Queen, released on 4 February 1991. It was the band's last album to be released in lead singer Freddie Mercury's lifetime. It reached the number 1 spot on the UK album charts for two weeks, and also peaked at number 1 in Italy, the Netherlands, Germany, and Switzerland, staying at the top for three weeks, four weeks, six weeks, and eight weeks, respectively. It was the first Queen album to go Gold in the US upon its release since The Works in 1984.

The album was recorded between March 1989 and November 1990. In the spring of 1987, Mercury had been diagnosed with AIDS, although he kept his illness a secret from the public and denied numerous media reports that he was seriously ill. The band and producers were aiming for a November or December release date in order to catch the crucial Christmas market, but Mercury's declining health meant that the release of the album did not take place until February. Nine months after the album was released, Mercury died of AIDS-derived bronchopneumonia.

"The Show Must Go On" was written by Brian May, based on a chord sequence he had been working on. May decided to use the sequence, and both he and Mercury decided the theme of the lyrics and wrote the first verse together. From then on May finished the lyrics, completed the vocal melody and wrote the bridge, inspired by Pachelbel's Canon. The song chronicles the effort of Mercury continuing to perform despite approaching the end of his life. When the band recorded the song in 1990, Mercury's condition had deteriorated to the point that May had concerns as to whether he was physically capable of singing it. May recalls; "I said, 'Fred, I don't know if this is going to be possible to sing.' And he went, 'I'll fucking do it, darling' — vodka down — and went in and killed it, completely lacerated that vocal".

The song was initially not released as a single as part of promotion for the Innuendo album, but was released in October 1991 as the band launched their Greatest Hits II album. The video for the song featured a compilation of clips from all their videos since 1982. Due to Mercury's critical health at the time of its production, a fresh appearance by the band in a video was not possible.

"The Show Must Go On" was released as a single in the UK on 14 October 1991, just six weeks before Mercury died. Following his death on 24 November 1991, the song re-entered the British charts and spent as many weeks in the top 75 (five) as it did upon its original release, initially reaching a peak of 16. In 1992, the song was released as a double A-side with "Bohemian Rhapsody" in the US and reached number 2 in the US.

It was first played live on 20 April 1992, during The Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert, performed by the three remaining members of Queen, with Elton John singing lead vocals and Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi playing rhythm guitar. A different live version featuring Elton John on vocals later appeared on Queen's Greatest Hits III album.

Since its release, the song has appeared on television and film, including Moulin Rouge!.

"The Show Must Go On" received a total of 85,2% yes votes! Previous Queen polls: #29 "Mustapha"

#finished #high votes #high yes #high reblog #90s #queen

[drivergemini]

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

- 

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap #inprnt

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook pt5

Charles Leclerc x MasterChef! reader

A/N: I'm really so happy with all the love that you have given to this fic. I enjoy writing about it, let me know if you have any blurbs or scenarios that you wanna see. This series will continue on and on

Let Him Cook Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams @barcelonaloverf1life @ririyulife @minseok-smaus @mehrmonga @sltwins @charlesgirl16 @six-call @spideybv28 @casperlikej @weekendlusting @janeholt3 @evie-119 @leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13 @itsjustkhaos

lec lerc challenge

"As you all know by now, Charles is planning to launch his own ice cream store"you started talking to the camera "And you know what funny story, he didn't even tell me"

Charles, who was by your side, was laughing like a hyena. He actually wanted it to be discovered on the the first day of April so everyone might think its a prank but then he will announce that he is very serious about it. It was an elaborate prank on top of prank. However, the news sites got a hold of it earlier.

"That's another story time. We have to get down to business" Charles reeled the topic back to the video that you two are making.

"Okay so in order to test Charlie's knowledge about ice cream, I have here ice creams that I made myself" you explained.

In front of the two of you were 10 paper cups. They have been covered on top so that Charles won't get a hint about the color.

"So my main task is to identify what's the flavor of the ice cream"Charles confirms "Easy"

"I made some unconventional flavors to throw you off" you informed him.

You can't help but giggle as you remember how you made some weird flavors for the ice cream. But hey, this was supposed to be a challenge to see if Charles' taste buds are working so it doesn't necessarily have to be a delicious ice cream.

"Okay, I am ready to scream for ice cream"

The first five cups were easy peasy. It's common flavors such as chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, caramel, and pistachio.

"I'm good at this mon amour"

Charles is pretty confident now. Time to throw the curveballs.

"I'm excited for you to try this"you excitedly give him the cup.

Since Charles is blindfolded as he does this challenge, the first thing he does is smell it. He is usually confident upon spelling but the frown lines forming on his face suggest that he might be confused about the flavor profile.

"This feels strange. I smelled this before but I can't put my name on it"Charles notes.

He takes a scoop from the cup and tasted it. It was evident to his face that he didn't enjoy this ice cream a lot.

"That's so sour, mon amour there are definitely strawberries in that"Charles complained.

"Strawberries and?"

There was a string of italian and french word from Charles as he tries his best to identify it. Finally, he had a lightbulb moment where he remembered the taste of it.

"BALSAMICO" Charles screamed "That is not a flavor I will put in my store, definitely"

Y/NCooks posted a photo.

Y/NCooks turns out Charles is pretty good with his taste buds. Watch me test Charles with his ice cream skills [link]

User1 Atleast we know that Charles is committed to being an ice cream man

User2 Charles_Leclerc you should definitely try the bourbon and corn flakes in the menu

User 3 Highly agree, I would love to try that User4 were all acting like were so close to milan. Babes we live across the world.

LandoNorris do you have some plain ice cream left for me

Y/NCooks i have some but its good to try other flavors every now and then Lan LandoNorris mmm, i'll try that black sesame one. that seems like a good flavor Y/NCooks brilliant. message me when i can see you Charles_Leclerc im amazed how Y/N managed to convince you of different food choices

MasterChefAU is this Charles' entry to master chef blind taste test challenge?

Charles_Leclerc MasterChef Monaco soon??? User4 I'm laughing at the number of sidequest Charles has. SIR you are an f1 driver!!!

Charles the baker

Charles_Leclerc posted a photo.

Charles_Leclerc okay i did all the measurements right. WHY DID THEY EXPAND

User1 I can hear Charles screaming with the caption

User2 Charles is such a mood when I try to bake things

User3 But is it edible tho?

Charles_Leclerc it is but its not as pretty User4 this is an internet highlight wherein Charles is sulking and asking the internet where he went wrong

maxverstappen1 recipe reveal?

Charles_Leclerc no ✨✨ maxverstappen1 don't want it anyways. i just wanted to know what you did so i won't end up like that User5 MAX!!!!! User6 your honor we love the lestappen crumbs

Y/NCooks honey maybe you should consider giving it some space, bread do expand when they get baked.

Charles_Leclerc they do?? Y/NCooks Yes they do. But in all honesty they look so cute, its alright honey Charles_Leclerc love you mon amour!

SebastianVettel maybe we should have a baking session one of these days, I can teach you a lot about baking breads

Charles_Leclerc sounds good, miss you already Seb User7 oh to be Charles Leclerc having the Sebastian Vettel teaching him bread and MasterChef Y/N encouraging him

tiktok pasta challenge

It was a fairly simple tiktok viral recipe and in your mind its something that Charles will be able to follow instructions with. So you set up your camera and told Charles about a cooking challenge that he has to do.

"Today's challenge, Charles will be using his listening skills. Lets see how well he listens to me"you greeted the camera "Are you ready mon amour?"

"More than ever, I look good in an apron"

You stayed behind the camera as Charles stayed in front of the kitchen counter. He was tying up his apron and grabbing your chef hat from one of the drawers.

"First of all, I need you to quarter an onion"you instructed.

Charles was immediately grabbing the onion and you immediately face palmed yourself when Charles started quartering the onion without even peeling it.

"Honey, you are supposed to peel it" you sigh

"Honey, you didn't say anything about peeling it. We have three cameras set up and editors should replay that you said quarter it and not peel it" Charles argued

You raised your hand in defeat, you should have been more clearer.

"Okay, I'm not gonna be vague. I'll make it clear"

The whole cooking went along smoothly until its time for Charles to cook the pasta. He has been heavily stressing to get the texture right this time or else it will further the allegations that he can't cook pasta.

"Calm down Charlie"

"I am very very very calm, I'm just checking" he lifted the lid for the fifth time "They have to be perfect"

"Charles is very honored to be taught by Gordon on a 1 on 1 session"you informed the camera.

The two have exchanged numbers and Charles will often ask his culinary questions to Gordon when you were not available to answer them right away. Gordon seems to enjoy the new friendship with the driver since he often send Charles link for cooking recipe to try.

"I don't wanna be an idiot sandwhich" Charles muttered, stirring the pot of pasta.

Charles got a perfect al dente to his pasta. He pulls out the baked feta and tomatoes out of the oven then mixed it with the pasta. It seems as if the dish looks pretty especially with the garnishes that Charles insisted.

"Plating is also everything"he says to the camera as he grates some lemon zest to the plate "Whatever this taste like, just remember that Y/N was instructing me so if there is anyone to blame then its Y/N"

"Way to throw me under the bus Charles"

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks The dish vs the chef. I think they are equally yummy [link]

User1 CHARLES CAN COOK!!!!

User2 alternative title charles stressing 10 minutes straight if the pasta is al dente or not

User3 The girlfriend effect on Charles is that he is now able to cook pasta

User4 I really want to try that pasta

Arthur_Leclerc i hope you never get tired of the pasta, its the only thing he will cook from now on

Charles_Leclerc i mean she loves it!!!! Y/NCooks its pretty good arthur, you should try it!! Arthur_Leclerc next family dinner? Charles_Leclerc im on it! User24 oh to be a fly at the Leclerc family dinner

User5 I think everyone ignored the caption, miss maam thirsting over her boyfriend

User6 if i was Y/N i would too Y/NCooks facts only!!! User6 Mother replied to us!!!

scuderiaferrari so charles is approved for a cooking challenge in the channel soon?

Y/NCooks he is born ready User8 kind of missed the c2 cooking challenges

everything i cooked

Charles_Leclerc posted a reel

here is everything that I did to celebrate Y/N's birthday. This isn't a common day, its really special so I have to run at 5 to get the flowers I ordered for her. Then next I cooked up breakfast which is some pancakes, thank you Carlos for the recipe. And then I surprised her with a little bit of breakfast in bed

and then I started making our lunch after clearing the table. Y/N had been craving butter chicken and I purposely did not take her so I could make some at home. Its a fairly easy recipe, I just had to mix some spices, cook the onions then you have the tomato paste and then cream. thanks Gordon I owe you one. She loved it so much.

and then I started early on the dessert for dinner. I didn't do the ladyfingers from scratch, I don't have a lot of time so yes here we are. The tiramisu is in the fridge. And then since Y/N loved the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti meatballs scene. I did my own take on it. Needless to say she loved it. So yes happy birthday once more mon amour, I love you so so much.

User10 I know we have been making fun of Charles but the man can actually cook.

User11 My boyfriend be forgetting my birthday but Charles here is slaving in the kitchen for Y/N's birthday

User12 CHARLES IS THE STANDARD!!! User14 Imagine cooking a whole breakfast, lunch, dinner, with a birthday dessert???!!! GOD I SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS

MasterChefAU Im glad to hear you are treating our girl well, happy birthday Y/NCooks

User13 OUR GIRL??!!!! Y/NCooks he is treating me well, thank you for all the greetings

Gordongram That's a beautiful dish and effort Charles!

Charles_Leclerc Thank you !!! Y/NCooks he is screaming btw Gordongram

PierreGasly when will you cook for me

CarlosSainz55 and me?? i think there is some former teammate privileges out here LewisHamilton the current teammate is also wondering SebastianVettel you boys are not Y/N. Y/N is special. Charles_Leclerc what seb said!!!

Y/NCooks one of the sweetest gesture anyone did for me. Thank you honey for making this day extra special. I don't need any five star restaurants when I have you in the kitchen.

Charles_Leclerc I love you. You deserve the world User21 Them your honor. User22 Happy Birthday Y/N, you two are excellent for each other

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff

[infamous-if]

April ✮ 1 ✮ 2024 – update

Hello everyone! Happy (late) Easter and Trans Visibility day! I was offline a bit so apologies for not saying that yesterday.

It's April! And I've gotten such great feedback on the prologue! I'm super happy that everyone liked the additions and changes made in the prologue. It's going to make MC much stronger as a character I feel, and I'm excited to use that in the future. Knowing the entire story gives me a bit of an edge on knowing how things will impact what and since I can't share anything I will say that what I changed in the prologue will make future chapters MUCH better. Especially the later ones...guess you'll have to wait until CH 15 to see (lol).

I know I've been a bit late on beta testers, I've just had a lot on my plate. I've already created the beta testing discord and I'm finishing that this month in anticipation for the CH 1 rewrite, which I'm finishing in April if all continues to go well. Like the prologue, it will be dropped on Patreon as well. As well as the rest of the Valentine's Day stuff.

That's all! Chapter 1 is nearly done and it's April 1st so i'm optimistic. Chapter 2 is a whole other behemoth due to how big it is and how much I sort of want to change it, but we'll see! I've been working on Chapter 3 on my off time so once those are done Chapter 3 shouldn't take too long. I always say this but just know, I am working on it! I don't want a lot of time to go by between the Chapter 2 rewrite and the Chapter 3 release so I'm writing with that in mind :)

April To-Do:

beta testers

finish chapter 1 and release to beta testers/patrons

Patreon content

rewrite chapter 2

continue writing chapter 3

Have a good day and have a great April!

#update

[friendshiptothemax]

 Hi all! You may have heard there might be a writer’s strike soon. The reason for this is that every three years, the Writer’s Guild (which represents basically every television and movie writer) negotiates with the studios and networks (collectively called the AMPTP) to hash out an agreement of what guidelines the AMPTP have to follow if they want to hire a Writer’s Guild writer. If they can’t make an agreement by the time the contract from three years ago expires, which is on May 1, then no one will be able to employ a Writer’s Guild writer until a new contract is reached. That’s what a strike is. I don’t know if one will happen or not. Everyone, including the writers, deeply hope we’re able to make an agreement before May 1 and everyone will keep working. That being said, our last contract expired right at the start of the pandemic and everyone involved just kind of said “hey everything is weird right now so let’s not fight” so essentially we’ve got six years’ worth of grievances to talk about -- that is why this one seems especially contentious.

So that’s the background. The WGA and the AMPTP started negotiations this week. This is expected to continue throughout April -- no one expects to know either way until the end of April. Something very important I want everyone on Tumblr to know -- while negotiations are happening, the WGA has committed to a complete media blackout. No member of WGA leadership or the negotiating committee will be speaking about how things are going to the media. This means that if you see an article talking about the WGA’s position, whoever gave them that information is not talking for us -- and, since this is a two-sided negotiation we’re talking about, are probably talking directly against us. Use critical thinking on any negotiation-related articles you read -- does what they’re saying make sense? Who benefits from saying this?

Why am I saying this now? Well, yesterday, Variety published an article claiming that the Writer’s Guild is advocating for the use of AI. The article was full of twisted facts and confused falsehoods. The article took the WGA’s position that you can’t replace credited writers with AI and touted it as “the WGA is okay with AI as long as writers are credited!” That is an extremely bad-faith twisting of our position.The WGA had to issue a clarification of our position on twitter and now I’ve seen articles taking bits of THAT out of context -- specifically a Gizmodo article that implies that the Guild wants to take advantage of AI because it can’t be copyrighted, but their proof of that is a snippet from a section saying the reason we’re CONCERNED about AI writing is that it can’t be copyrighted.

And just, like....think about this for a second. Why on Earth would the Writer’s Guild WANT to replace writers with AI? Literally the organization whose entire purpose is to protect writing as a job? There’s no organization on Earth who would be opposed to it more. Every meeting I’ve been in has been unequivocally clear. WE ARE AGAINST AI. The second tweet in the thread I linked above says it outright: “AI can’t be used as source material, to create MBA-covered writing or rewrite MBA-covered work...” 

It just seems to me like it would suck if we do head into a strike in May, and everyone is pissed off at us because they believe we are striking for something that is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what we want. 

The WGA is in a media blackout. Be very skeptical of anything you read claiming to represent our position unless it comes from an official WGA source, like the one I linked above.

#writing #television #writer's strike

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 1: I'LL BE YOUR PLASTIC TOY

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, suggestiveness, making out, light bullying

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i am here to ruin everyone's lives. apologies in advance

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

March, 2008

“Hey, Twigs. Wanna see something cool?”

His honeyed voice chills your spine, his breath warm right by your ear. You roll your eyes as you turn to face Satoru, grinning with all his teeth as he tugs at your wrist. 

“What is it, Satoru?” you sigh.

“You have to follow meee,” he sings, pulling you away from the table you’re setting and towards the side of the porch. It’s secluded. Private. “Bring the spoon.”

With furrowed brows, you oblige. It isn’t like you have a choice. You had followed him around like a puppy ever since you’d met him as a child. You continue to, regardless of your determination to separate yourself from him.

His favorite shadow. His little pet.

The two of you aren’t as close as you were when you were children, but it’s still impossible to refuse him when he has a request. You blame it on your mother and her professionalism. You figure you had inherited it from her. That hyper-politeness. You find that you blame the ocean blue of his eyes more often. Always sparkling. 

He walks a few feet away from you, still grinning. You blink at his tall figure. He's currently dressed in a baby blue dress shirt (sleeves rolled up, of course) and black slacks. His Sunday best for the fancy brunch at the Gojo Estate. Every April, your mother summons you to help set up, then rewards you with a plate and time to play with the other kids. She would continue her work, serving the family and their guests. You would pretend that you weren’t part of the staff.

There hadn’t been a point in you staying for the afternoon in years. Only if Satoru begged you to, and even then, he hadn’t bothered to do so since junior high.

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” you huff, crossing your arms. You wipe your sweaty hands on your smock.

“I’d never let you get in trouble, you know that,” he smirks. “Now, throw the spoon at me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“I want to throw way more than a spoon at you right now.”

“Relax, Twigs. Do this for me. Please?” he pouts. You can see his bright blue eyes peeking out of his black sunglasses, framed by snow-white lashes. It was unfair how pretty he was. How easily he could persuade you. 

Sighing, you throw the spoon in his direction. It stops right in front of his face as if there’s an invisible wall. He laughs in victory when he sees your confused expression. 

“What was that?” 

“My Infinity. I’ve perfected it so that it’s automatic. Took me a lot of willpower before but now it’s as easy as breathing.”

“Congratulations,” you reply dryly. 

It was typical of Satoru to be invincible. Untouchable. It had been a quality of his since birth, now manifested into a literal power to aid him against threats. You’d been on the outskirts of such threats when you were younger, but Satoru would always spare you the details.

Watching him grow in his adolescence had been like watching a sprout bloom. It shot toward the sky exponentially until it became a tree in record time. You, meanwhile, were still a sprout. A window, they’d called it. Able to see the horrors produced by human nature but unable to do anything about it.

Your head snaps up, alert when you hear your mother yelling your name from the porch. She points a hard gaze at you, then softens it when she sees Satoru.

“Satoru-kun, do you mind if I steal her for a minute? I need some extra hands for the tamagoyaki.”

Satoru nods, expressing his courtesy to your mother in his usual charming poise. It used to work on you before, but it often irks you now. The way he dazzles people to get what he wants. You would rather die than admit it was a characteristic of his that you envied.

He tugs at your braid before you walk away.

“See you later, Twigs,” he calls after you. A playful lilt to his voice. 

“You won’t.”

Satoru has you memorized. Since the two of you were five years old, he considered you his mirror image, though you never believed him. 

Often, when he sees you now, his heart leaps the tiniest bit in his chest the same way it did when he was thirteen. He’s gotten better at ignoring it. He’s perfected the art of ignoring you ever since high school started.

He likes to indulge during times when you’re not looking. At the moment, you’re concentrated on a flower arrangement, a blush painted on your cheeks from the heat. He’d watch you do this when you were kids, too. Your face would be in a concentrated frown, tongue peeking out. Nimble fingers perfecting an ikebana arrangement. 

Sometimes he missed it. He decided long ago that it would be better if he didn’t.

You two had been inseparable since the day the Gojos' hired your mother as a maid. He remembered you hiding behind your mother’s legs, chewing on the end of one of your braids. You would stay in the guest house of the Gojo estate with your mother, and you would become Satoru’s best companion. 

Both of your mothers would arrange playdates. Satoru’s mother wanted him out of her hair. Your mother wanted to work without your constant interruptions. You were needy, an only child, but Satoru would always please you with his company. It was why you adored him.

He’d show you all his toys and teach you all the games that his extended family would show him to make you feel included. He’d have you sleep in his bed, which would go under the radar until the two of you were fourteen. It would be innocent and wholesome. Satoru would show you the stars he’d learned about and you would look at him as if he’d hung them in the sky himself. 

Satoru often reminisces about the shape of your body to this day. Sometimes, he misses it when he’s alone in his king-sized bed in the winter. Even with the heat on, there’s still something missing, and then he thinks of you.

When you were kids, you’d sleep together, legs and arms intertwined. Drool on the same pillow. Wake up to an abundance of pancakes from your mother.

You had been half a friend, half a plaything. Satoru’s counterpart. Feet kicking each other under the breakfast table. 

At age five, you’d seen the same curse together. A harmless thing, chameleon-like, with eight legs on each side. It had a nasty face, one that you had recognized from your nightmares. It had been exciting at first, knowing that you shared the same ability as your best friend. You believed that you would grow with him and become as talented as him.

But that was an exaggeration. Satoru's parents knew how isolating it would be for their son to be the strongest. Your technique never came.

Satoru acted as your protector, then. Expelled the small, vicious curses in the corners of your room like they were bugs. You’d watch him train, his body overgrowing with knobby knees as you sat on the sidelines. And while you grew up with him, you only got smaller in his periphery. Always lesser. Always weaker.

It’s the reason you’d grown apart. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

Satoru had grown into a tall, arrogant child. He treated school as a hobby and still made the highest marks, which angered you to no end. It didn’t matter to him, anyway, knowing that he’d become a company's CEO or the best jujutsu sorcerer in the world. He had his future in the palm of his hands. You were not a part of that. You weren’t even sure of a future of your own.

Sometimes he would have nightmares of you dying in his arms at the hands of a curse too big for him to control. During adolescence, he experienced many threats to his safety. He knew he couldn't live with himself. He couldn’t bear to see you endure the same. 

So, without explanation, Satoru Gojo pretended you didn’t exist. He exchanged the necessary niceties in school and when you'd come over with your mother, though he'd never ask you to stay the same way he had when you were kids. He was often occupied with new friends, anyway. Often busy working on his technique. Nothing that was your business, of course.

You resented him for it. 

Now, you’re enduring your last year of high school with him, and you are trying so badly to be good. You should aim to make good enough marks to attend a decent university on a decent scholarship. God knows you aren’t fit for the world of jujutsu sorcery. 

In a way, you’re okay with the mundanity of your life. Satoru’s absence in your heart convinced you of that. 

Satoru’s attendance at school is only an illusion of normalcy for his parents. His mother insists on it. Barely a sorcerer herself, she had wanted to give her son the option of living a normal life. With his grades and wit, she knew that he could easily be successful as a businessman or a doctor. 

Despite this, Satoru knew he would enroll in Tokyo’s Jujutsu Technical College with Suguru. He had met Suguru when he was fifteen, trying to exorcise a curse that only got snatched by a dark-haired thief, one who would end up as his best friend. 

Satoru saw Suguru as his only equal. He had no one else to relate to about jujutsu sorcery. 

Certainly not you.

But still, he was closing another year of high school, his last. Then he could be free from his parents’ restraints. It was easy for him to be the best and make the most friends. It was a shame that he’d have to leave them all behind. 

You’re a ghost in Satoru’s wake. Always near, never faltering yet never consuming too much space. As the school year progresses, he ignores you like a mosquito bite. Harmless but still itching his skin. Always reminded of your presence even when you do nothing to draw attention to yourself. 

And then there are times that you do.

“I’m sorry, sensei,” you mumble, stunned in the doorway of the classroom.

It’s a nondescript weekday in May, one that’s wet with rain, which explains your damp hair and clothes. Your appearance conjures a succession of snickers. The sound of low laughter taunting you and whispers gossiping about you.

You’re too tired for it. You don’t want to be here at all.

“I’m disappointed,” your teacher relays. “You’re usually never tardy.”

“It won’t happen again,” you muster.

You hear more whispers. It hangs on your shoulders as you sit in your seat, still and heavy as you attempt to take notes.

Should’ve worn something more sheer, than she’d get the attention she wants, huh?

Nah, not like her tits are even good enough to be seen like that.

Bet she’s hiding something from all of us. Maybe we can get her to strip in the girls’ locker room and give us a show later.

“Shut the fuck up,” a voice growls. You hear it, turning your head, and your eyes fall on Satoru’s fiery blues. 

You wonder if the feeling of his gaze searing into the back of your head is worth mentioning. It makes your face hotter, the flush of humiliation warming your neck as your peers snicker at you.

You manage to get through class without crying. Haru, a boy you were closer with in previous years, offers his sweatshirt to you as you collect your things. 

“She’s good,” Satoru interrupts as you strip off your damp sweater. Within seconds, he has you under his arm. He ushers you out the classroom door. His oversized jacket drapes over your shoulders.

“Gojo,” you hiss. “He was just being nice.”

“Or he wanted to see you in a wet t-shirt. I don’t think white was the best move for today, by the way.”

Your face heats up when you look down. You realize the extent of skin that’s visible from the sheerness of your damp white shirt. It mortifies you more when you realize that Satoru had caught it first.

“Right. Thanks,” you mumble, hiking up your bookbag tighter on your shoulder. 

“So helpless sometimes,” Satoru sighs. He shoots you a devilish smile that combats your scowling frown. “Why don’t you call me by my first name here?”

“Because we’re in school and it’s polite.”

"Twigs, are you scared of being associated with me?"

He blocks the door of your locker, leaning against it and towering over you. Satoru had always taken up as much space as possible without a care in the world. You were the opposite -– always compartmentalizing yourself to be smaller. Malleable. Amicable.

He’s too close for comfort, nearly breathing down your neck. He only moves when you kick him pathetically in the shin.

Satoru’s smile only grows bigger as you ignore him. He wonders if he could get your fuse to blow in front of him right now. This place is usually where you’re composed, regal, and expedient. One of the school’s top students. 

He knew you had an edge to you, wild as you were when he had known you as a child. But you had only grown to be responsible and sensible. He thinks that his mother would be relieved if he acted more like you.

“Coming home with me or what?” Satoru quips. The way he says it makes your stomach stir. It's an almost salacious suggestion despite its innocence. Satoru always made everything sound more exciting than it was.

“Why would I?” you raise a brow.

“My mother would like to see you. She told me she had some hand-me-downs for you to try on." You know I’d love nothing more than to see you parade around my house dressed like my mother in the 70s.” He grins in amusement.

“Okay, sure, whatever.”

“Yo, Satoru!” 

His head whips around to see one of his buddies, crowded around other jocks. Satoru is quick to leave you without so much as a goodbye. 

July, 2008

After your semester, you end up second to Satoru. It’s no surprise to you despite how much it infuriates you. You are never anything more or less. 

"Congratulations, Twigs," Satoru murmurs to you. He startles you from your thoughts. You slam your locker closed.

“Why are you still calling me that?”

“Because you’re my Twigs,” he pouts.

Yours. It’s a funny lie. Satoru Gojo was a lot of things, but he would never be yours. Sleeping with him in his bed as a child didn’t grant you that kind of closeness anymore. Within these halls, you walk past each other like strangers.

He pouts childishly like he always does. There’s a devilish spark in his blue eyes underneath his sunglasses, though you can barely make out his irises from his height. Satoru’s growth spurt had him at over six feet tall by the time he was sixteen. It was obvious that he’d only grow taller. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the nickname. If you were in middle school again, the notion would warm your heart. It had been a stupid nickname he’d tease you with ever since you were both ten. You had been angry at him for reasons that escaped you, climbing up the tree in the backyard of his estate as high as you could until he begged you to come down.

You wouldn’t, of course. You were always stubborn like that, and Satoru loved it. 

You were also much clumsier when you were ten, slipping your foot as you attempted to climb a different branch and falling into Satoru’s arms. It had been a miracle you didn’t break any bones, but thanks to Satoru’s freakish strength, you were unharmed. Only disheveled with leaves and twigs stuck in your frizzy hair. He had called you Twigs ever since. 

“I’m not your anything. Even if my mother is still your fucking maid.”

“Aren’t you my maid, too? My little servant?” he teases. 

You wonder if he knows how cruel it is, even if it’s a little joke.

“I’m nothing to you,” you mumble. You attempt to hold a faster stride on your walk home. Maybe you’d advance enough to leave him in the dust. You could be the best runner on the track team if you managed that.

But you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave him, couldn’t. Not a chance.

“What was that?” Satoru calls after you.

“Nothing!”

“Slow down,” he whines, running fast enough to follow your stride, much to your annoyance. Him and his stupid, long legs. His taunting smile. “Don’t you wanna come over?”

“Why would I?”

“Your mom’s probably there. And we can celebrate the end of exams.”

“I have… stuff to do,” you stammer.

“No, you don’t,” Satoru chuckles. “The semester’s over. Summer’s here, baby.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He laughs again, the sound twinkling in your ears like a beloved song. It makes your cheeks warm. You don’t want him to see it. 

Yet, he wraps his arms around you, chin nestled to your collarbone as if you were joined together. In a blink, the two of you are in his kitchen, with whiplash only an after-effect. You still hadn’t gotten used to his ability to warp.

“I hate when you do that.”

“You like it, I know you do,” Satoru taunts. “It excites you. I can tell because your cheeks get all flushed.”

“They do not!”

“Sure, they don’t, Twigs.” 

“You’re annoying,” you huff, dropping your school bag on a chair.

Satoru greets your mother with a kiss on the cheek as you follow behind him. She has tea prepared in the sitting room for you and him, along with dorayaki and matcha Swiss rolls.

“Your mom’s the fucking best,” he muses as he gobbles down a third roll. You watch him in feigned disgust. Sipping your tea, you mumble something unintelligible in agreement.

“What, you aren’t hungry?”

“No.”

“Try this.”

“I have. She’s my mom.”

“C’mon, Twigs, open up.” 

Satoru leans over the table with a Swiss roll between his fingers, waving it in front of your face. There’s no point in protesting -– he’d probably knock something over from his eagerness to annoy you. You part your lips to take a bite, and at the same time, he shoves it into your mouth.

“Satoru!” you groan.

“Stay still.”

You swallow your bite and he wipes his fingertips on the corner of your mouth. He’s close enough to feel your breath on his face, licking up the frosting on his thumb nonchalantly. He chuckles at the flustered look painting your face into a scowl.

“I’m done. I’m going to do the dishes.” 

You excuse yourself to retreat to the kitchen before you can so much as make eye contact with Satoru again. He has to be teasing you with his small touches. It’s something he would’ve done when you were twelve, yet the notion now would be different. 

The two of you were in completely different social spheres. He had separated himself from you years prior. It would be a rare sight for him to be so touchy with you in public, acting as if you were like him. 

Someone who had a big kitchen. Someone who didn’t have to think about expenses.

It’s a miracle that he leaves you alone as you clean the kitchen, washing dishes to keep your mind occupied. After you’re done, you decide to cut up a bowl of strawberries. You knew they were Satoru’s favorite. Knowing him, he’d still crave something sweet after demolishing all the desserts.

You nick yourself. A careless act — you aren’t paying attention, mistaking the sharp side of the knife for the dull one. It slices the inside of your thumb. Cursing under your breath, you hover your hand over the wound. You heal it within milliseconds without so much as a second thought.

This is when Satoru kicks at something. The wall or a potted plant, you don’t know. But it’s a plea for attention and it brings your focus to him, your head snapping up to meet his gaze and his childish pout. 

“I saw that,” he says, lowly.

You freeze under his scrutiny. You don’t say anything.

“So you’ve been lying to me.” It’s a seething accusation instead of a question.

He gets so close to you without you even noticing. He towers over you again, swallowed by the whole of his shadow, and his betrayed frown is petulant like a child’s. 

“Satoru—”

“You said you didn’t have a cursed technique.”

“I—I didn’t. Not until later—”

“When?”

Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, hands trembling. He takes a step forward, taking up more space. It reminds you of your worth. The mere fact of him belittles you in that way.

“When I was thirteen. My kitten, Aki. The stray. You remember him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“He got hit by a car one day, and I couldn’t stop sobbing. And I was holding him in my hands all bloody. And then, I brought him back to life. It just happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You search Satoru’s face. There’s a bit of betrayal in it, mostly surprise. It boils your blood in the slightest bit — because why is it so shocking that you ended up with a cursed technique? You may have hidden it from him for a few years, but was it something so unimagined for you?

You assumed that you would always be a plaything in Satoru’s eyes. Something so easy, so useless.

“It wasn’t enough,” you exasperate. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it does, Satoru. It’s so—”

Insignificant. Small compared to you.

He waits, swallowing the lump in his throat. Eyes flaring like comets.

“It doesn’t matter,” you repeat. “I don’t even want to be a sorcerer, and even if I wanted to be, I could never keep up with you. I don’t see the point in pursuing this if I’m better off just studying at a normal university—”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Your technique is amazing. It’s like Shoko’s! You could’ve —”

“Satoru,” you emphasize. Your tone shuts him up, your hardened gaze, the lightning in your eyes bright and sharp. Menacing, even. You can sense the sound of him swallowing, a lump lodged in his throat loud enough for you to hear.

White lashes flutter. A frown is still displayed on his face. It’s now that he notices the slight bags under your eyes. Evidence of burden, of nights spent awake under the unforgiving moonlight.

You look at him in a way that feels damning — like you’re coaxing something from him. He knows better — knows that his anger is misplaced, that you’re right.

You having a healing technique is nothing compared to him. Even then, he knows that you probably aren’t interested in combat or the world of jujutsu sorcery in general. It doesn’t affect him so negatively. So what is he so angry about?

The question is in your eyes, pleading. He already knows the answer despite not admitting it to himself. He knows that the prospect of you having a cursed technique doesn’t mean you’re stronger than him. He assumes you wouldn’t surpass him, and wouldn’t think you to be someone who would even think about it. 

Satoru knows he’s angry because he feels very close to you. He had at least thought he was close enough with you to know about your cursed technique. It was finding out that you were hiding it from him that made him angry. Learning that you had it manifest in front of you and didn’t bother to fucking tell him about it.

He can’t voice any of these frustrations. He knows you’d yell at him, and criticize him for thinking he’s entitled to you. It’s inappropriate and unfair, but in his younger years, he often felt that he was entitled to you. He’d known you since you were so very little, so vulnerable. He had protected you from all those curses, hadn’t he? He held you in his arms in his bed for years. That had to have meant something to you. It certainly meant something to him. 

“Sorry. I just wish you told me earlier,” he says softly. 

You apologize. Meek beneath him, eyes avoiding him. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I have to go. I’ll see you later, Satoru.”

You don’t see him for a week and a half. It should be typical to you. It’s not like him to reach out or go out of his way to see you. He’d always been like that, giving you no expectations. And yet, his radio silence had crawled under your skin.

It’s stupid to expect him, anyway. There’s no reason for him to show up at yours, much more of a reason for you to show up at his, but you don’t need to. Your mother does that for her job and it has nothing to do with you.

There’s a Tuesday that’s so quiet, so plain that even the rain falters after two hours to only grant the town wet pavement. You’re curled up with a book in your living room when you hear a succession of knocks on your door. An erratic rhythm, the same as the special knock you would use with Satoru.

It’s him, of course. He smirks at you, an oversized t-shirt loose off of his lanky figure. You try not to fixate on the sweat of his exposed collarbone. You look him straight in the eyes through his pitch-black sunglasses.

He has a large bouquet in his hands. He grins at you. For the first time in a little while, you feel brave.

“Confessing your love to me this afternoon, are you?” you pester, a brow raised.

Something like that, Satoru thinks.

“You wish.” 

He walks past you, brushing your shoulders much to your annoyance. He sets the bouquet on your kitchen table in its little jar, peonies drooping despite how hard he tries to fix them.

“It’s from my mom to yours. As a thank you and a birthday wish and stuff.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “That’s very sweet of her.”

He hums in agreement, rocking his heels back and forth as his eyes roam your house. It isn’t his first time here, but he acts the part, hands buried in his pockets as he observes you like a wild animal. 

“Will that be all?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs. “What were you up to before I showed up?”

You shrug, too, attempting to mirror his nonchalance. You had long ago buried your paperback in a drawer, promising to return to it by the time Satoru left. But still, he lingers, in front of you, taking up unnecessary space in your childhood home. Too tall and too pretty.

“Just cleaning my room,” you lie. 

“Can I see it?”

“Why?”

“Been a while,” he shrugs. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, it’s a mess right now. I didn’t get very far.”

“Like I care,” Satoru chuckles. 

He stares at you for a bit, heartbeats passing the time in your head. Fuck, he’s serious. He’s already leaning towards the staircase.

“Okay.”

You’re hyper-aware of him behind you, eyes exploring the length of your body. If you had known that he would show up unannounced, you would’ve changed into one of your long dresses or a pair of jeans. At the moment, you feel too bare in your tank top and corduroy shorts. You feel like a child outgrown.

Satoru takes up as much space as usual, long limbs splayed over your tiny twin bed. You don’t permit him to sit on your bed, but he does it anyway. He looks at the pictures on your wall, takes in the sweet smell of your sheets. It’s similar to your clothes, your flesh. Your hair. He’d live in it if he could.

“How cute.” He gestures to a cat plushie by the head of your bed. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Satoru laughs. “It is cute. It’s so you.”

A certain fervor blossoms in your gut at that. The image of him stretched out on your little bed. Despite your closeness with him when you were younger, he had never spent much time at your house. It took you a few years to understand why.

“You should invite me over more often.”

“I don’t invite you over ever.”

“Well, you could start.”

“Why?” You stand by the wall, shifting your weight towards it as you lean backward. You cross your arms in defense, even though he hasn’t said anything to provoke you yet.

“It’s comfy here. I like it.”

“Thanks?”

He sings your name, beckoning you to him. You take three steps at most, holding your breath. Standing in front of his knees.

“Come sit, Twigs.”

“Told you not to call me that,” you breathe.

“Don’t care,” he grins. 

He reaches out to you, pulling you between his knees with a hand on your waist. He smirks at the sound of your gasp as he tugs at your wrist. 

“In my lap. C’mere.”

It’s difficult to refuse Satoru Gojo. His eyes drink you in, ocean blues glimmering and reflecting the afternoon sunlight. You’re still between his thighs. He tugs you without much effort, making you stumble into him. Your hands hold onto his shoulders as you settle into his lap. He holds the small of your back as you straddle him.

“Wanna try something.”

You say nothing. Your eyes flutter closed when you feel his fingertips grazing your jaw.

There’s a softness against your mouth. You don’t dare open your eyes.

You sense a sharp inhale behind the lips that kiss you, but they stay. Wetting between your mouth with the slight of a tongue. Tasting sweet like honeysuckle.

You whine, opening your mouth a bit more. You swallow down divinity. It's misguided affection that you had wished for when you were so much smaller. It might mean something bigger to you now if you thought about it for longer. You don’t want to. You refuse to.

But Satoru kisses you hard, excited and eager. His tongue peeks into your mouth and you taste strawberries. Lips soft and supple and melting against yours.

He groans, fisting your hair in his hand as he deepens the kiss, falling more and more into you. He smiles against your mouth as he coaxes a small sound out of you. It crawls out of your throat for him to taste with satisfaction. He’s always dreamed of you in his lap, but he could never tell you that.

You’re breathless, weak, and melting into him as he wraps his arms around you. Caging you in so that you can’t escape. So fucking warm in his embrace. 

It takes a second for you to notice the hardness growing underneath you. It prods your center as you mindlessly grind into Satoru’s lap. When you realize, you squeak in embarrassment, and he clutches you harder.

You sigh into each other, eating the other up. Heat surges through you, from your forehead down to your core, to your weak, sensitive legs. Hot from the feeling of him in your mouth. Hot from the proximity of your core to his.

You pull away, exhaling unevenly as you try to catch your breath. You’re shy under his gaze, unwrapping yourself and covering your body as if you’re naked.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re so cute,” he chuckles. “Acting like that was your first kiss.”

“What if it was?”

He raises a brow as you look away with flushed cheeks. You’re still on his lap and he takes the opportunity to remind you of this, shifting you in his lap and causing friction. Your eyes are wide as you quickly attempt to untangle your limbs with his.

“That was your first kiss?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes at the sight of his leering smile. God, you knew this would happen. Satoru would never let you live it down.

“I’m going to kick you out—”

“No.” 

He grasps your wrist in his hand. It’s small compared to his palm, engulfing you. His other hand grips your hip firmly but softly. He only moves it to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“How was it? Tell me.”

“Good,” you breathe. “Felt good.”

For the first time in a long time, he looks at you like you have invented something new. There’s a bit of astonishment. Wonder and admiration. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. You were easily deluding yourself with the expression of his sapphire blue eyes. 

“Felt good for me, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you do that?” you ask, giggling nervously. 

“Just wanted to.”

“I want you to kiss me again,” you whisper.

“I want to do more than that,” Satoru mumbles. But he knows better. It’s the best decision for him to get you off his lap right now before he loses composure.

You both hear the sound of your front door opening as if it’s timed -- your mother. 

“I’ll kiss you later, okay?” Satoru murmurs.

“You will?”

“My parents will be gone this weekend. To Okinawa. You should come over on Saturday.”

“Okay. I will.”

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #juijutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you

[calabria-mediterranea]

A high-profile Italian author has accused Rai of censorship after his antifascist monologue was abruptly stopped from being aired, in what he called the “definitive demonstration” of alleged attempts by Giorgia Meloni’s government to wield its power over the state broadcaster.

Antonio Scurati was due to read the monologue marking the 25 April national holiday, which celebrates Italy’s liberation from fascism, on the Rai 3 talkshow Chesarà on Saturday night.

But as he prepared to travel to Rome, he received a note from Rai telling him his appearance had been cancelled “for editorial reasons”.

Scurati is well known in Italy for his books about the dictator Benito Mussolini and the fascist period. The cancellation of his monologue provoked fierce reaction from Rai journalists, fellow authors and opposition leaders.

His speech referenced Giacomo Matteotti, a political opponent of Mussolini who was murdered by fascist hitmen in 1924, and other massacres of the regime. It also contained a paragraph criticising Italy’s “post-fascist” leaders for not “repudiating their neofascist past”.

“Undoubtedly, this is what infuriated them,” Scurati told the Guardian. “And also because of what I represent and maintain in my books … [that] there is a continuity between the fascism of Mussolini and the populist nationalists in Europe.”

The Rai director Paolo Corsini denied that the monologue had been censored, telling the Italian media that an investigation “of an economic and contractual nature” was under way, while implying that the speech was cancelled because of the “higher than expected” fee sought by Scurati.

Scurati said his fee had been agreed and the contract signed before the monologue was due to be broadcast. “The fee was perfectly in line with those paid to authors … It was the same as in the past, when there were no issues.”

In solidarity, Serena Bortone, who presents Chesarà, read out the monologue on the show. It has also been published in full by several Italian newspapers and websites.

Meloni, whose Brothers of Italy party has neofascist origins, came to power in October 2022 with a coalition including the far-right League and the late Silvio Berlusconi’s Forza Italia.

During the election campaign, Meloni said the rightwing parties had “handed fascism over to history for decades now”. However, Scurati claimed in his monologue that when forced to address fascism at historical anniversaries, Meloni has “obstinately stuck to the ideological line of her neofascist culture of origin”, for example by blaming the Mussolini regime’s persecution of the Jews and other massacres on Nazi Germany alone.

Meloni responded by publishing the speech on her Facebook page, while attacking Scurati and accusing the left of “shouting at the regime”.

“Rai responded by simply refusing to pay €1,800 (the monthly salary of many employees) for a minute of monologue,” she said. “I don’t know what the truth is, but I will happily publish the text of the monologue (which I hope I don’t have to pay for) for two reasons: 1) Those who have always been ostracised and censored by the public service will never ask for anyone to be censored. Not even those who think their propaganda against the government should be paid for with citizens’ money. 2) Because Italians can freely judge its content.”

Since coming to power, the Meloni government has been accused of increasingly exerting its power over Rai while edging out managers or TV hosts with leftwing views. The European Commission was last week urged to investigate the government’s alleged attempts to turn the broadcaster into a “megaphone” for the ruling parties before the European elections.

Meloni’s administration has also been accused of trying to influence other areas of the press and targeting journalists with legal action who criticise the government. A Brothers of Italy politician recently proposed toughening penalties for defamation, including jail terms of two to three years.

Elly Schlein, the leader of the centre-left Democratic party, said: “The Scurati case is serious; Rai is the megaphone for the government.” Carlo Calenda, the leader of the centrist Azione party, said: “Silencing a writer for saying unpleasant things about the government is simply unacceptable.”

Scurati said he has received solidarity from many authors and journalists who were otherwise afraid to speak out against the government.

“This episode is the definitive demonstration, as it has finally aroused the revolt of other writers, intellectuals and journalists who until now kept quiet,” he said. “This government launches violent personal attacks against you for speaking out, in my case [that] I asked for too much money.”

Follow us on Instagram, @calabria_mediterranea

#italy #italia #fascism #censorship #antonio scurati #rai #giorgia meloni #25 aprile #antifascism #mussolini #benito mussolini #history #historical revisionism #italian #italian government #italian politics #politics #serena bortone #fratelli d'italia #propaganda #far right #right wing extremism #public service #fascismo #antifascismo #governo meloni #censura #the guardian #italian tv #tv

[shroomaz]

"No One Else but You..." (Part 1)

RISE! FUTURE DONNIE x GN! Reader Series

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Hope everyone has a lovely morning/night to start the new year off. And speaking of starting off- here is the first chapter of "No One Else but You..." ENJOYYY!!!

If you haven't read the introduction- that's fine! But if you do want to here you are:

You gasp for air as you wake from your slumber.

You had a nightmare...but can't recall what it was about. Ah, the typical "I had a nightmare- but immediately forgot what it was about." A classic...

Stretching your arms, cracking your back, climbing out of bed, and putting on some slippers. Yawning in the process, you pick up your phone, looking at the time.

9:30

....CRAP!

"I'M LATE- !" you started rushing around the room gathering something "professional" to wear and tossing your once comfortably warm pjs across the room.

It was hard enough that you left home for college to continue your "most precious" dream career... if only it was so easy. Once you got to California- it was like putting a goldfish into a pool of hungry piranhas. You had no idea where to go, no idea what to do, and most importantly no one to comfort you whilst you were gone.

You left New York to California hoping for something greener on the other side. Hoping to be able to see more things and get more experiences, but of course, life had another plan to drop the ball on you.

Ah, the feeling...the feeling of the young naive you wandering around town with hopeful sparkles in your eyes...those sparkles had dimmed a long time ago since then.

This was your final chance to get something done right. This job interview would be the pin in what you always wanted. That is-- if the traffic would hurry up.

Once you've arrived; you rush up the office stairs, holding your files and resumes in hand, some papers trying to fly away and you tripping on your feet.

People giving you looks as you kept running into them, with your apologies following after.

FINALLY! You made it to the front desk.

"Um...hello there," you said to the desk lady typing on her computer before looking at you with her glasses sliding to her nose and with a... not-so-welcoming look in her eyes.

"Yes...? What is your business for today?" She replied to your question, almost bitterly.

"I'm sorry for coming in so late- but I'm here for the 9 o'clock interview. For the opening position?" You were nearly about to ramble to the lady before she cut you off coldly.

"That position has already been filled." She continued to look back at her computer, typing and TRYING to ignore you...but you couldn't take that. Nope. Not today.

You place your papers on the desk, leaning in and holding your hand to her in confusion. "What do you mean it's been filled? I was told that there was no one applying for the role and that I would be qualified if I showed all my papers!" 

The lady looked up at you and slowly moved your hand down before leaning in. "You were too late then..." she leaned back before sighing; "Someone else came in before you...you win some you lose some sweetie. The time you moved on..." She went back to typing.

...

You didn't know what to do...everything had gone down the drain. Whoever told you that being a regular citizen would be this hard...? No one that's for sure...

When these times were tough you remembered home...

"HOME"

You want to remember that feeling; coming home from school and walking with April to the sewers to greet your green friends...

Mikey, Raph, Leo...Donnie. All the chaos that would run rampant around the lair, the Jupiter Jim marathons, and most importantly- the weekly sleepovers that you would have with them.

They were the closest thing to family that you had! And with Donnie...you were close.

After all, he was the first one you met, the first REAL person to come into your life...it all began that day at the rooftop where he "rescued" you from the purple dragons back in high school...it was funny when you look back at it and how he TRIED to convince you that he was not a talking turtle and some guy in cosplay...but you knew better. What human calls other people 'fellow human' and says they do 'regular human activities'?

However, he slightly eased up when you didn't fall for it...and you kind of relieved him and freaked him out when you weren't phased by it-

It was a hassle sometimes...with his teasing and sarcasm that would erupt from him. Those precisely drawn eyebrow raises he would give you when you were just a little slow to catch onto something...but you knew at the end of the day, he was always there for you when you called or texted.

The weekly sleepovers with the guys soon just became you and Donnie making a fort for you to sleep in his room. Or rather- you falling asleep in his lab whilst he worked on something. 

Better yet! You would wake up in his bed and he would sleep in his work chair in his lab...

It was sad to see that fade away like a distant memory...and that you had broken apart since then...

Ever since that fight that you had with him on the phone, you both couldn't talk to each other again. It was too painful to look back and remember the words that you both said to each other that night.

The falling of friends happens sometimes...but losing someone closer is another.

Scrolling through your old photos; you couldn't help but feel the slight grief when scrolling and still seeing the pictures of you and Donnie. It was so very few when you caught him with a smile... it was usually a scowl or straight face...but then you stopped on an old photo that Donnie had taken himself on your phone.

The night where you had fallen asleep on him, trying to survive to midnight on New Years, his hand on your head and there he was...with a slight smile on his face.

He had explained to you that morning that it was a "New Year's Gift" and you teased him for it...which he then "threatened" to delete if you were to abuse your power against him.

With Donnie...you never knew what you were going to get...but you knew that he was there. And that's what mattered...and in his way; he cared.

Tears slowly started to fill the corners of your eyes, looking at his for a moment that felt like forever...it was a brief moment considering you were in public on a sidewalk bench-

You missed him...and you wondered if he missed you.

*ding-ding* - your phone had a random number notification. Assuming it was junk mail- you went to delete it.

Until you read the message.

"Y/N"

"Come back."

"We miss you..."

(END)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x oc #rottmnt donatello x reader #future donnie x reader #rise future donnie #rise future au #I love some y/n time yall #trying to keep things open for you :3

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013 

You were outside when the woman rode up. 

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you. 

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different. 

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home. 

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.  

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up. 

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon. 

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.” 

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense. 

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened. 

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.” 

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!” 

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two. 

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.  

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…” 

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.” 

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…” 

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’” 

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing. 

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off. 

“Should have listened….” 

You glared at her. 

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Glad you spared me.” 

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock. 

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…” 

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.” 

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…” 

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.” 

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.” 

“Dance party?” He frowned. 

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face. 

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall. 

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before. 

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did. 

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier. 

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission. 

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you. 

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow. 

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest. 

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.” 

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face. 

“You found people outside?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…” 

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. 

“The clinic…” 

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic. 

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside. 

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…” 

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…” 

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg. 

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?” 

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.” 

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.” 

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again. 

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…” 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you. 

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in. 

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…” 

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…” 

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see. 

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.” 

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…” 

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…” 

“Yes, I can.” 

You moved around him and he followed. 

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…” 

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it. 

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…” 

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…” 

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…” 

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…” 

“You…” he breathed. 

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.” 

*** 

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it. 

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…” 

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you. 

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.” 

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin. 

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…” 

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face. 

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…” 

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.” 

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you. 

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?” 

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…” 

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face. 

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…” 

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…” 

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath. 

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…” 

“I need you to take Savannah.” 

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…” 

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.” 

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…” 

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.” 

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes. 

“OK.” 

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20. 

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. 

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?” 

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat. 

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.” 

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child. 

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter. 

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.” 

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.” 

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand. 

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close. 

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world. 

August 2018 

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope. 

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…” 

“But they’re people.” 

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. 

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.” 

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing. 

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you. 

“Mama!” 

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you. 

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…” 

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?” 

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time. 

But the world, you knew, was not so kind. 

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library. 

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder. 

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK. 

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?” 

“What else would I need to shoot?” 

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book. 

“What?” 

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?” 

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.” 

“But I like animals,” she pouted. 

You smiled. 

“I know you do.” 

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you. 

You sighed. 

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.” 

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face. 

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe. 

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.” 

September 15, 2023 

“Mom?” 

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside. 

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?” 

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.  

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat. 

“Gattling, release.” 

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance. 

“We have to move.” 

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…” 

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.” 

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack. 

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.” 

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it. 

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment. 

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?” 

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…” 

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide. 

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…” 

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.” 

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.” 

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.” 

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody. 

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.” 

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her. 

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her. 

“Just three days, right Mom?” 

You swallowed, hard, before nodding. 

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules. 

You needed to buy her time. 

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape. 

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill. 

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised. 

You had to get back to her. 

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention. 

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you. 

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…” 

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. 

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?” 

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy. 

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

He laughed. 

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…” 

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground. 

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed. 

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.” 

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up. 

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…” 

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!” 

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other. 

“Show ‘er.” 

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair. 

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…” 

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.  

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…” 

Mitchum smiled. 

“Good.” 

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose. 

It was a year before there was room for anything else. 

Early April, 2027 

“Bambi…” 

“Move, Joel.” 

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her. 

First aid, that you’d need. 

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…” 

“I have to try.” 

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it. 

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…” 

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.” 

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…” 

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?” 

He froze, looking at you. 

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.” 

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…” 

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…” 

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart. 

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could. 

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…” 

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…” 

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…” 

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…” 

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…” 

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!” 

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls. 

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin. 

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…” 

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see. 

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you. 

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!” 

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain. 

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…” 

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…” 

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…” 

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…” 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…” 

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook. 

“Bambi…” 

“Get out,” you managed. 

He said your name. Your real name. 

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!” 

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…” 

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….” 

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!” 

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.” 

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.” 

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again. 

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

[dreamauri]

┇𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - P1 ┇ ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ┇it's time you got back in the battle ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst/fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 445 ) ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

☆★ changed up things a little bit cause i found my muse, took me a while to write this chapter as well. I hope it was worth the wait. I don't plan on rushing this series, but it will be a long one, no more than 15/20 (??) chapters? ps. the translation is not literal, it's context. ty ━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )

RACE DAY Sunday April 30 2023 — Baku City Circuit, Azerbaijan

Needles to say, you felt like shit. It wasn't even the fourth race into the season and you had taken a seat that didn't belong to you. And there was nothing you hated more than that.

You watched as people rushed around the garage finalising their tasks. "You okay, kid?" Looking up, you met gazes with your new engineer. "Never been better." You lied, giving him a small smile. "Good to hear." He patted the top of your helmet gently. "I'll be in your ear the whole time, champ." "Thank you, Arcadio." "Call me JJ, kid." You chuckled, nodding. "Thank you, JJ."

"And here we are at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, ladies and gentlemen! A race filled with anticipation, surprises, and the return of an incredible talent. Keep your eyes on car number 17, the Red Bull driven by the remarkable Seventeen. Her first race since 2016 was it? She is finally on the grid, with a full seat as well."

"That's right, Martin. After a long hiatus, Seventeen is back on the grid, and the excitement is electric. You can hear the fans roaring! You can tell that the people are exited for her to get back on the track, and I can't deny it, I am as well." "Disappointingly enough, she will be starting at the back of the grid for missing qualifying on Friday."

"Charles Leclerc is in pole position, with Max Verstappen alongside him in P2. But don't count out Seventeen just yet. She's eager to prove herself once again today."

Lap 1 :: "The lights are about to go out, and the race is underway! Leclerc gets a clean start, holding onto the lead, while Verstappen is hot on his heels. But Seventeen is on the move, slicing through the pack with remarkable determination."

"Seventeen is showing no signs of rustiness, Martin. Lap after lap, she's gaining positions, overtaking rivals left and right. It's a mesmerising display of skill and determination."

Lap 10 :: "Seventeen pulls off a breath-taking move on Turn 8, overtaking Lando Norris' McLaren with sheer precision. She's making her presence known, and the crowd is thrilled to witness her comeback."

"That is P9, Seventeen. P9." "God blessed me with a functioning radio." You joked, chuckling, pulling a laugh from the Filipino on the pit wall. "Thanks' Jj." You sighed happily catching up to the Mercedes ahead.

Lap 25 :: "Seventeen's drive is filled with passion and resilience, Martin. The years away from the car seem to have only fuelled her determination. And she executes a daring overtake on the outside of Turn 3! leaving Carlos Sainz behind!"

Lap 47 :: "Max, we need you to let Seventeen through, please. She's on pace. Let seventeen through." "An incredible act of teamwork from Red Bull! Verstappen gracefully yields, allowing Seventeen to continue her charge towards the front."

"And now, Seventeen is on a mission. Lap after lap, she closes the gap to the leaders, never faltering in her pursuit of glory."

Final Lap :: "The tension is mounting, Martin. Seventeen is determined to make her mark. She's chasing down Charles Leclerc, putting immense pressure on the leader.

"And there it is! In a sensational move, Seventeen overtook Leclerc on the final corner of the final lap! The crowd erupts in applause as Seventeen crosses the finish line, taking an unbelievable victory in her first race back!"

"What a comeback story!" "Seventeen has made a resounding statement with this incredible victory. A truly unforgettable moment in Formula 1 history."

"Heh." You chuckle to yourself as you park in front of the P1 board. Once you lifted yourself out of the car, standing on the nose, you bent backwards holding onto the halo as you did a handstand. "Eat shit." You whispered, bending both knees and arching your back, posing for the camera.

Once you put your feet back on the asphalt you walked to your team who was quick to pull you in the sea of hugs and praise. "Thank you, guys. I would've never been able to do this without you today." You told them, hugging your new and favourite engineer.

"It's good to have you back." You heard Hamilton greet you, dabbing you up. "Thanks, Lewis." You nodded, flicking up your visor so he could at least see the smile that reached your eyes. "Ya saba3tashar!" [hey seventeen] snapping your head to the source of voice, you're met with the smug smile of a certain eight year old.

"Ya benti howa enti ay 7ega tesarakhiha we khalas?" [My God, are you just going to scream at any chance you get?] Her father who was carrying her on his hip scolded, covering his pulsing ear. "3erefto tigo 3ayni." [So you could make it after all] You moved over to them, sharing a tight hug.

"Tab3an. Mesh hafawet awel seba2 lebatalet El 3alem." [of course, we wouldn't miss the world champions first race] Marawan kissed your cheek patting the side of your helmet. "Mestaniyeenek." [Theyre waiting for you] He gestured to the waiting interviewer. "Mashi mashi." [ok ok]

"Salam!" [take care] The girl waved, making you turn back and blow her a kiss.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Plopping on the P1 chair, you slumped tiredly leaning your head back. The room felt tense. With Max Verstappen in P2 and Killian Kraus in P3 ( two drivers who managed to overtake Leclerc in the last second right after you did ).

"That was a good overtake on lap 5." Kraus pointed out, looking at the screen that showed the highlights. He was trying to break the ice, especially with your teammate looking at you with such a negative expression that could be described as hate or despise, regret, anger. "Which one?" You asked yawning, waving slightly to the camera who was filming the three of yoy.

"Turn seven." "On Gasly?" "Yeah." "Eh, I could've done better." You shrugged, standing up once Jj stopped by in the room. "There's always room to improve." You sighed as he handed you the face mask and your sunglasses. You stood in a corner facing the wall to hide your face as you took off your helmet and balaclava, replacing them with a black mask, the 1st place cap and the sunglasses.

"It's time for the podium guys." "Here we go." You muttered tiredly pulling the second half of your race suit up, putting your hands through the sleeves. "And in first place, racing for the first time in seven years and adding another win to her unending winning streak. Give it up for Seventeen!" You could hear the crowd screaming as you walked out on the stage waving to the masses as you stepped up on your highest pedestal, raising your hands up bowing down.

You took your cap off once the Austrian Anthem started playing, skipping the one which would've been yours. You could hear and see the red bull team below you singing and smiling, which only made you crack a smile. Putting the cap back on your head as you received your trophy, quickly raising it up for your little family to see.

Max received his next with a forced smile and Killian after with pursed lips. Cracking the bottle open, you ran forward to the edge, spraying Your team principal and engineer.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You are on a winning streak are you not?" "I am." You nodded, leaning back in the chair. Press conferences were always so boring. "How long has it been going?" "Oh wow . . . like forever? I don't think I've lost that many karting races. And I've never lost races in F3 and F2—" "You were lapping everyone." "Yes, I was." You nodded chuckling.

"Hopefully, the streak continues throughout the rest of the season. and maybe I can win all the races next year and set another record." You wiggled your eyebrows excitedly. "You guys did go back to school, I like these questions." You giggled making the whole room erupt in laughter minus the Dutch boy sitting by your side.

Once you walked out of the room you were dragged by your performance coach to the Redbull motorhome for an ice bath. "Can I go into the out now." You whined shivering in the inflatable tub, one had out giving pats and belly rubs to the clearly delighted Australian Shepard.

"You're so lucky, protected by that cute fur of yours." You cooed at him scratching under his ear. "Oh, I was starting to think you'd skip." You joked looking at the Dutch driver in swim trunks. Max only pursed his lips shrugging as he slipped in gently beside you.

"Fuck dit is koud." [fuck this is cold] He cursed under his breath, sinking into the water, watching you with the dog. "What's his name?" He asked breaking the silence after a few moments. "Aussie." You replied ruffling the doggo's head. "What? Who names their dog Aussie?" He looked at you confused and you could only blink. "I did." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Oh . . ." He replied quietly, sinking deeper into the tub till the cold water covered his nose.

First time having a conversation with his teammate, his biggest rival, his biggest ally ( and childhood crush ) and he killed it, literally. Stabbed it right in the face.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"She's scary." Lando shivered at the thought of your black helmet overtaking him. A certain group of drivers were clubbing, celebrating the race even though none of them won. And the said winner wasn't attending.

"I understand why some people call her a demon now. All she's missing is a tail and horns. I bet her eyes are red." Pierre grumbled sipping from his glass. "You're all sulking way too much." The unaffected Alex Albon commented. "Us? We're not even her teammates. Look at Max, he's dead." Charles pointed out at the Redbull driver that was practically unconscious from how much he was drinking. "If she really never loses, we're done, mate. Our only option is to wait till she retires."

Although Max was almost black out drunk, he still heard faint chatter from time to time. "only option is to wait till she retires." Max liked you as a driver, not a driver that was taking his wins away from him. 'Maybe we don't have to wait. We can force her to retire.' was the drunk though that passed through his brain. A thought that he should've left behind when he walked out of the club that night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MEDIA DAY Thursday May 4 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

"Hello, my name is Max Verstappen." "And my name is Seventeen and we are . . . I forgot sorry. Some one was walking by with cotton candy." You chuckled nervously looking back at the camera.

"We're playing 20 questions, with the goal of getting to know each other more. And by the end, the team are going to ask us 5 questions each and we have to know the answers to that." Max explained as you rocked your chair slowly to face him. "Alright. Who goes first?"

You ended up doing rock paper scissors, with Max winning. "Who is your favourite f1 driver?" You grimace thinking. "Umm, uhh. I say this and I don't have to hide my face anymore." You laughed. "I'm going to go with Seb." You nodded.

"Your favourite race circuit?" "I'll have to go with spa. Yours?" "Um, does it have to be a current track? Mine doesn't exist yet." You chuckled laughing. Through the game you found yourself loosening up, fining yourself more comfortable with your teammate. Max wasn't though, putting on a smile and forcing a laugh every once in a while.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RACE DAY Sunday May 7 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

Lap 48 :: "Now on the soft rubber, we are watching Seventeen gaining with every metre onto her teammate ahead, Max Verstappen, her rival for the championship. She will pull out of the slipstream. Seventeen is on the attack, defence is on for Verstappen. The bulls going wheel to wheel." "Verstappen goes on the outside line but there will be better traction for Seventeen who stands on the throttle. She'll get DRS again and will fight into turn one. Can Verstappen offer a defensive line on the inside?"

"He's got no other choice! The bulls are wheel to wheel! Around the outside, will it be the lead? Its close between the two! The crowds are roaring and Seventeen takes the lead of the Miami grand prix having started fifth on the grid and losing positions down to tenth after the spin out on lap 22. She's passed all of them."

"Thanks, Max." You said through the radio as you felt yourself heave.

Lap 52 :: "Do you think . . . We can put on some music?" You said once you turned on the radio. "Because my ears feel empty and I have a horrible singing voice. I mean, There's no one else for us to overtake, no?" You could hear Jj's laugh over the radio, hearing his smile. "We are 14 seconds ahead of Max. So I guess maybe? Let me look into it."

it only took a few minutes before you were listening to Michael Jackson, singing along. "Cause this is thrillerrr!" You hummed along, your radio popping up on the stadium's speakers. "And that is, Seventeen listening to music, comfortable in P1."

Final Lap :: "Outstanding performance for Seventeen. She comes out of the final corners— And for the first time ever! Seventeen wins the Miami grand prix with a masterclass of performance! From tenth of the grid, to first." "Another one-two for red bull! Fantastic performance!"

"Wahoo!" You cheered pulling the steering wheel out once the car was turned off in front of the P1 board. Getting up on the halo, you celebrate by doing one more handstand, doing a leaning forward front-split this time. Once you got down, you fell into the hugs from your team, happiness clearly written in your eyes. "Thank you guys for all your hard work. Thank you so much!" You hugged and shook hands, sadly being ignored by Jos Verstappen but you didn't care.

Being up on the top of the grid again felt exhilarating and adrenaline fuelling. "I love you all so much." You blew kisses as you retreated to the cool down room. Getting up on the podium again felt euphoric. Raising your trophy for your team to see, you got down on your knees pressing the trophy to your forehead before hugging it tightly.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾ #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen #max #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 #formula racing #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 fic #mv33 fic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fics #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fanfic

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

341 days of foreplay

A/N: this used to be my most popular fic on here before I accidentally deleted everything. originally posted back in march/april, was some of the first smut I ever wrote, so keep that in mind, there's probably so many mistakes in this, I haven't edited it. also I changed the title, it used to be called i should've worshipped you sooner (gif in the moodboard is by my love @fightingdragonswithwho )

summary: Spencer overhears his roommate, Y/n, confess her true feelings for him.

warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, smut, roommates, drinking, chess, love confessions, kissing, orgasm denial, alcohol consumption, oral (male and female receiving), impact play, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, cumplay, dirty talk, praise, degradation, choking, spit kink, overstimulation, dom Spencer vibes 

word count: 3911

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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You had been Spencer’s roommate for almost a year now, and for all of that time, you’d been hopelessly in love with him.

You often think that if his work didn’t take him out of state so often, you’d probably come clean about your feelings much sooner.

It was Friday night, and Spencer still hadn’t come home yet, from California you think you remember him texting you a few days ago? So here you were, in the kitchen, trying to open a bottle of wine. 

“You really shouldn’t mix wine and beer”, your friend’s voice boomed from your phone.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Eleanor? Just stop drinking after 2 beers?” you mocked, struggling with the cork. “This is not a 2 beers kind of day, so yeah, I’m switching to wine since it’s the only option that I have here. It’s that or stop, which is just, no.”

Even through the screen, Eleanor gave you her best disappointed parent expression and it stung. How had she perfected that? Shaking her head, she sighed, “you really need to move out.”

Popping the wine bottle open, you pointed the corkscrew at her, “don’t,” you warned, “I don’t wanna hear about it!”

“You can’t keep living with someone that you are head over heals for! Either tell him or move out and move on.”

“Or I could just keep drinking alone on a Friday night, and then go snooping through his things.” You raised the bottle up to cheers the screen, then took a large swig of it.

“What, your gonna become an alcoholic?”

“Hey, don’t judge my coping mechanisms little miss ‘I spent 3 months' wages in 1 minute after getting dumped by Sandra’. And who was so kind as to support you and lend you some money in order to get by, oh yeah that’s right, me, your oldest friend.”

She took a deep sigh, “fine. What are we drinking?”, then you saw her pick up her phone and move to her kitchen. 

“Yes!” you squealed, “I promise, I won’t even mention him the entire evening.”

“It's just like, when he talks with his hands, which is always, which is also always because he always rambles, they are just so, urgghhh” you slurred, and bent over the kitchen counter in order to get closer to the screen, because your vision wasn’t the best at the moment. “pretty. But also like, I want to feel them everywhere on, and inside me. And the veins, oh fuck…”

Eleanor was totally spacing out on her end of the line, so you just continued. “like the other day, he got home and was soooo mad, like only once in a blue moon mad. And I know that it’s kinda wrong of me to just be lusting after him in such a tough moment for him, but damn!”, taking another gulp of your now much lighter bottle. “He just looked, god, so good.” You almost moaned. “His delicious forehead vein was popping out, fuck I just wanna lick it. Like, he gets so petty, but in the hottest way! Fucking, just bend me over right then and there, and go at it for hours!” you carelessly set the bottle down on the counter, “I’d let him do anything he’d want! and I’m talking like some Erika Lust shit. Choke me, slap me, say open up and I’ll happily let him spit in my mouth”

“God, you need to get laid,” Eleanor complained. 

“I know, but I only want him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to even think about anyone else in that way,” you admitted. 

“Aw, babes, you will”, she said with a sad smile, then looked up to the side “oh, it’s 1:05, I’m sorry, I really need to go to bed, but we’ll talk more tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sleep well” you sighed.

“And hey, don’t go fall asleep in his bed!” she quickly added before ending the call.

“That was one time!” you said to now no one.

Feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol in your system, you leaned your head against the cool countertop. 

Hearing the sink turn on behind you, you whipped around, startled to find the aforementioned Spencer standing there, filling the kettle with water. 

“Jesus Christ! Spencer, what are you doing here?” you screeched. 

Breathing out a small chuckle, “as far as I’m aware, Y/n, I live here.”

“Yeah, I know that, I mean what are you doing home?”

Setting down the now filled kettle in its holder to boil, he turned to you, “the case ended, ergo I’m home now. That’s how it works, Y/n.” 

He kept on saying your name, making you shutter at the way it sounded. “You just usually give a heads-up first”.

He sighed, clearly not in the mood for this conversation, “yeah, well I didn’t.” 

Maybe it had been a tough case? God, if he kept up this mood for any longer, your ovaries were going to explode. 

Suddenly remembering the topic of the convocation you just had with Eleanor, your eyes widened, “ho-how long have you been home?”

“Why?” he said with a tiny smirk.

“Oh, no, I just, I didn’t hear the door or anything” you trailed off.

“Well, you were pretty loud, so it makes sense.”

“I-“ fuck, your heartbeat was raising, “um, did you hear?”

Narrowing his eyes, looking you up and down, taking in your nervousness, “would you really let me do anything I’d want?” 

You let out a shaky breath.

“Because, Y/n,” he moved closer to you, ”there are so many things I wanna do to you.”

Not truly believing his words, you asked, “you do?”

Choosing not to answer with words, he grabbed your face and kissed you fiercely, letting his tongue dance across yours. Humming into it, the combo of the feeling of the kiss mixed with the alcohol made the world spin, so you clutched onto his forearms for support. 

Abruptly pulling away, he studied your eyes, “you’re drunk.”

“Guilty as charged!” you beamed, moving your hands down his body.

Catching them before they could touch what they desired, “no.”

“What? If you don’t want to, then why did you just kiss me?” the words rushed out of you.

Chuckling lightly, he held your hands in his, “trust me, I do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I really like you. I’ve known it for a while.”

“You do?” you smiled as you moved to kiss him again, but he turned his head before your lips could meet.

“But your drunk.”

“So what?”

“Y/n, I can’t with good conscience just bend you over and fuck you in the kitchen when you are drunk.”

Letting go of him, you leaned back against the cold slab and spread your legs a bit, “you could though, I want you to”, grabbing ahold of his hand, you moved it between your legs, “I’m yours if you want me.”

Growling, he closed his eyes. 

“Please” you whispered, grinding into his hand, trying to find some form of relief. 

Snapping his eyes open, his hand started to move, just a bit, moving up and down over your covered pussy. “Is this what you want?”

Shuttering, you replied, “yes.”

With a smirk, his hand moved inside of your pants, cursing under his breath when he felt just how wet you were, “is this all for me?”

Lips now slightly parted, you nodded hard.

Using two fingers, he pressed hard down on your clit, drawing tight circles. Bending down to kiss along your jaw and down your neck he asked amidst the kisses, “do you really want me to choke you,-“ kiss, “slap you-“ kiss, “and spit in your pretty little mouth?”

All you could do was hum in affirmation. 

“I had no idea that you were such a dirty little whore.”

“I just- really really like you,” you choked out, hips moving of their own accord, trying to aid in the goal.

Coming up to look at your face, “good, because I really really like you too”.

A combination of his sweet words, how good he was a finding the exact right place and pressure on you, as well as just the anticipation of it all making everything heightened and so much more intense, you felt yourself getting dangerously close to cuming.

“Oh fuck, Spencer, I’m-” you moaned, clutching onto his shirt.

But then, he removed his hand.

“No, no, no, no, no-“ you breathed, trying to catch it and guide it back to your center, but he wouldn’t let you. “I was so close.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“Because like I said, I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk.” His sentence was emphasized by the click of the kettle being done boiling.

“But-“ you tried to argue, but he cut you off.

“I want the first time you cum with me to be on my cock. I wanna feel it.” He explained, then turned to grab two mugs out of a cupboard.

Standing there, slightly stunned, you tried to decipher what the next move could be. The alcohol made it virtually impossible to think of anything other than getting railed by him, so you just sat up on the counter, catching your breath and watching him brew the coffee.

After a minute, you asked quietly, “so, we just go to sleep now?”

Filling the last mug, “no”, he turned and lifted you off from where you were sitting and back to a standing position, “we are going to wait.”

“Wait?” you questioned.

Grabbing one of the mugs, he handed it to you and confirmed, “yeah. How many drinks did you have?”

Scrunching your face up, you tried to remember, “um, 3, no 4, maybe?”

Licking his lips he said, “okay. Come with me.”

Hopping after his long strides, he stopped at his chess table and sat down, motioning with his hand for you to follow suit.

“We are going to sit here until you sober up.”

“Playing chess? Of course, that would be your definition of foreplay.” You teased, but ungracefully sat down as well.

Moving your rook forward four spaces, you asked, “is this even entertaining for you? You keep on beating me in like 5 moves.” 

One step ahead of you, he quickly moved his bishop and snatched up your last surviving knight. Then turning his big brown eyes to look at you, “oh trust me, this is very entertaining for me. Might be some of the best games I’ve ever played.”

Cocking your head to the side you almost laughed, “um, no. I know I’m not a very good chess player, I know the rules and there forth can somewhat follow along, but I am nowhere near skilled enough to be an entertaining chess partner to you, dr. Reid.”

“Who said that your chess skills had anything to do with it?”

Giggling lightly, you moved a pawn and muttered, “oh.”

It was his turn again, but this time he didn’t move a piece, but simply asked you, “are you still drunk?”

Your body tensed at what the question really meant. 

“I don’t think so,” you said honestly, then deciding to joke a bit, “why, do you want me to walk in a straight line? Touch my finger to my nose?” already doing the last movement in front of him.

Smiling, he asked, “do you still want to?”

Stopping your movements, you replied completely serious, “I don’t know how that’s even a question.”

He raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for the right words.

“Yes Spencer, I still want to.” Rubbing your thighs together at the building sensation that never quite disappeared from earlier. 

His eyes were glued on you as you lowered your body to the floor, kneeling in front of him, slowly running your hands up his legs.

Reaching a hand down to your cheek, he slipped his thump inside your mouth, completely entranced, it came out as almost a whisper “show me.”

The way he looked down at you made your pussy throb. Hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his finger, you watched him work at his belt.

“Be a good girl and show me.” Taking his finger back with a pop, then used both of his hands to free his cock.

The sight made you smile. Of course, even his dick was pretty.

“Open your mouth, Y/n,” and without another thought, you opened up and stuck your tongue out. Your eyes were big and doe-like, in awe of how he looked, sitting in front of you, working himself a couple of times.

Tapping the weight against your wet tongue, he groaned, “lick it”, and so you did, slowly a few times, just on the tip, then moving your head slightly to the side so you could trace his veins all the way down to the bottom, all the while keeping your eyes locked on his.

Moving your hand up to grasp the base, stroking it lightly as you came back to the tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before pushing it past your lips. Slowly taking him further and further in, his hands were tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots whenever you would move your tongue just right. 

Letting him move your head for you, picking the pace, how far down you would go down and how long he would hold you there, enjoying the sound of you gagging. 

After a bit, moaning, he pulled you off his now glistening cock, “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up”.

Proud of yourself, you beamed up at him, whipping your mouth and chin with the back of your hand.

Pulling you up to him, he kissed you. Moaning into it, his hands went straight to your tits, palming them softly and then whispered against your lips, “take it off, slowly”.

Pushing yourself off him, you backed up a few steps, giving him a good view. Gradually, layer by layer you striped for him, turning when you got to your pants, in order to give him the best angle. Unconsciously, he mirrored your actions, taking his own off.

When you were both completely naked, his dark eyes drank you in, “get on the couch, ass up, now.”

Your body did as he wished by its own accord. Leaning over the back of his brown leather couch, you waited eagerly for him to get closer to you, and when he did, you grinded into the feeling of his body pressed up against yours. 

Running his fingers lightly through your folds, “mhm, you’re fucking soaked.”

“Please don’t tease me anymore,” you wiggled against him, “I want you inside of me, now.”

“Oh really?” he cooed, then landed a small slap on your pussy, surprising and hard enough to make you jump a bit, “you want it that bad? Do you just wanna be my pretty little whore?”

“Please, ruin me” you whined, as you felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance.

“Wait,” he said, panic suddenly filling his voice, “I don’t have a condom.”

As he began to pull away, you wouldn’t let him, “I don’t care, please just give it to me, please Spencer.”

“You serious?”

“I’m clean, please do it. I’ll just get plan b tomorrow”, you begged.

And without any more warning, he slammed the entirety of his dick inside of you, making you lose your breath and almost turn into putty in his arms.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned into your ear, then distanced himself from you by pushing you further into the couch and straightening up himself. Gripping onto your hips, he didn’t give you a moment to get use to the feeling of how much he stretched you out, but opting for a brutal pace. The snapping of his hips made your body jump in the best way. 

As he slapped your ass, you only got that much closer to cuming. His arms went around your waist and pulled you up against him. One firmly staying there, holding you close to his warm body, the other snaked its way up your body, staying at your boobs just long enough to pinch one nipple, then finding a home softly wrapped around your neck.

His face was right beside yours, occasionally placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, neck or shoulder. Feeling you clench around him, he asked amidst his grunts and moans, “you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, Y/n?”

When you didn’t reply, too wrapped up in the feeling of it all, he taped your cheek lightly, “huh? Are you gonna cum on my dick?” 

Seeing stars now, you had no way of getting out actual words, and when his hand came down on your cheek again, this time a little harder, you gathered just enough strength to nod lightly.

“atta girl, let me feel you,” he cooed in your ear and returned his hand to his resting place around your neck. Your eyes struggled to stay open as the orgasm rocked through you. 

Legs shaking and trying to catch your breath, his trusts slowed down. Your head lolled back against his shoulder, and he kissed your cheek. “fuck, just when I thought you couldn’t get more beautiful.”

Smiling you reached your hand up to the side of his face, “let’s move this to your bed, I think I need to lay down”, you breathed out.

“Done already?” he asked in a joking tone.

Laughing lightly, you winched at the feeling it gave, making your sensitive walls clench around him, “no, I just don’t wanna fall.”

And with another peck on your cheek, he pulled out of you, but still held you close as you moved the short distance to his bed.

When you hit the mattress, you pulled him with you, letting him fall on top of you. Gasping as he slipped inside of you again, the feeling already starting to feel like home. 

“Oh, you’re taking my cock so well” he moaned, finding a good rhythm, picking the one that made your boobs jiggle the most. “God, I love your tits,” he thought out loud, playing with them, making you giggle a bit at the compliment. 

Craving the same sensation from before, you requested, “choke me.” He didn’t hesitate, wrapping his long fingers around your throat again, squeezing lightly at the points where your rapid heartbeat was easiest to feel. 

Your eyes were locked on each other’s, giving you a great chance to study just how blown his pupils were. Moving his big hand up, so that his thumb could rest on your bottom lip, “open” he breathed out. When you did as you were told, sticking your tongue out just enough for it to brush against his finger, his lips curled up into a proud smirk. The sensation of his spit landing on your tongue first surprised you, then did something you were not expecting it to do. You came again. Right then and there, the intimacy of the act being enough for you.

His smile only grew at the obvious signs of the power he had over you.

Then you blinked and he wasn’t above you anymore. But what he did next was enough for you to know exactly where he was. Your head shot down with a wince, to see him place sloppy kisses on your very sensitive clit. Reaching a hand down, you pulled him away, the sensation being too much. 

Head between your legs, he looked up at you, eyes sparkling, kissing your inner thigh, and muttering, “sorry, I just had to kiss you there”.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you stroked your thump up and down, then up to trace the angry vein on the side of his forehead, “just give me a second”.

Smiling, he leaned his head against your soft thigh, then turned his face to place a peck on the palm of your hand.

“mhm, okay”, you hummed after a few minutes. Spencer then sat up, pulling your tired body with him. You slumped down in his lap, like a koala, hugging your arms around him, nuzzling as close as you could. 

“You ready, Y/n?”

You hummed in reply, reaching one of your hands down to slip his dick inside of you again.

This time, you both just found a lazy and intimate rocking motion, not needing it to be hard and fast, but slow in order to make it last as long as possible. 

“fuck, I’m so close” he practically whined, “where so you want it?”

Through a string of breathy moans, you uttered one syllable, “-in- “, pulling back just enough for him to see the seriousness on your face.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he smirked, “We already live together, you want us to start a family?” his teasing only made your walls tighten their grip around him.

His movements became more ragged and desperate, “you’re just a little cumslut, aren’t you? You want me to fill you up?” whimpering in response, you buried your face in the crook of his neck and held on tight as he pushed you over another euphoric high. 

Grunting in your ear at the feeling of you milking him, you heard, “take it, all of it”, as he throbbed deep inside of you, filling you with his cum.

Staying like that, all tangled up and breathing heavy, for who knows how long. At some point, clutching onto you, he lowered you both down to lie on the soft mattress. 

Expecting him to stay and cuddle you, he instead sat back up and leaned back to admire the mess he had made. Stroking your thigh, he breathed out, “be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

Slowly, you pushed your knees up and spread your legs apart, hearing him curse underneath his breath. Your body jumped when you felt his fingers trace your slit, gathering up the cum that had begun to drip out of you. Crying out suddenly as he plunged in two of his fingers, hips buckling, the sensation being too much for your overstimulated cunt.

“Uh, don’t get so whiny on me right now,” he cooed, looking down at you with dark eyes. He hooked his fingers and moved them furiously, “you said you wanted to cum? Now take it!”

Even when your hips tried to move away, his fingers followed. Soon the feeling of everything being too much got another thing added onto it. How could you possibly cum again? But somehow, you did just that. Spencer always had a way of making impossible things be possible.

Your whole body was shaking and quivering as Spencer laid down next to you and wrapped his arms around you. “Holy shit,” you said among your shaky breaths.

“Well, we did have 341 days of foreplay”, he joked.

“Yeah”, you laughed, brushing your hand up and down his arm. “Hey, Spence?”

“Mhm?” he hummed into your hair.

Taking a deep breath, gathering the courage, you confessed quietly, “I love you.”

His hand came to lift your face up to meet his, touching his forehead against yours, “Y/n, I love you too, so much.”

Tilting your head up a bit, you kissed his forehead, then curled back down under his chin and fell asleep in that warm cocoon of love that was your roommate Spencer Reid.

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid hc #criminal minds smut

[mirai-e-jump]

Digital TV Guide, April 2024 Issue ft. Iuchi Haruhi Interview (translation below)

Publication: February 24, 2024

Iuchi Haruhi -BoonRed's design leaves an impact!-

Iuchi Haruhi plays the role of Taiya Hando (BoonRed) in "Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger." We asked the 19 year old about his enthusiasm for playing the lead role in the historic Super Sentai series.

"How did you feel when it was decided that you had been chosen to appear in the show?"

Iuchi: I went to the office after I received a call from my manager saying, "I'd like for us to talk face to face," and while making small talk, he suddenly said, "You've been chosen to appear as Red in the new Sentai." It didn't seem real at first, it felt as if I was listening to the decision that my friend had been picked, and that I wasn't involved. I played multiple roles at the audition, not just Red, so it didn't really feel as if I had been chosen as Red.

"What kind of character is Taiya Hando, who you were chosen to play?"

Iuchi: He's a genius in development and modification, is wealthy, and has a passionate heart but doesn't show it. Boonboomger is initially made up of three members, Red, Blue and Pink, but he's the most mentally mature out of all of them. However, I couldn't express it well at first, as Director Nakazawa Shojiro, who was in charge of episodes 1-3, always just told me to, "Up your mentally. Be less childish." I have the image that he's 5 years older than my actual age. It's difficult, but I think I'm gradually becoming able to express this, and I get the feeling that I'm starting to grasp Taiya's character of being "calm but not cool."

"Please tell us your impressions of BoonRed's design, Taiya's form after transforming."

Iuchi: I thought, "They're going with this, huh?" (laughs). I kept thinking about the tires being stuck on the front of the face. There's been Sentai with car motifs in the past, but these designs are way different from those, so it leaves an impact.

"What are some memorable moments from the episodes that have been filmed so far?"

Iuchi: We've had clear weather since filming began, but on the day when all five members of Boonboomger assemble for the first time, it snowed and filming had to stop. While we were waiting, everyone played around and made snowmen.

"For the next year, you'll be playing the role of a hero."

Iuchi: I talked with Mori Hirotsugu-san, BoonRed's Suit Actor, and asked him to show me the poses he does in action scenes, which I would recreate, and I also asked Mori-san to do the poses that I came up with to match the dialogue. I'd like to continue to work together to create the hero named Taiya Hando. I want to do my best so that children who watch the show will think, "The Boonboomger's are my heroes." _

-What are the conditions for being a hero?- Iuchi: Yuuri-san and Eve-san (singers) are the ones who have my back. Whenever I feel like I'm lacking confidence and want to give up, I listen to their music and become encouraged. For me, the conditions for being a hero are……I guess it's to never ask for anything in return.

#bakuage sentai boonboomger #boonboomger #super sentai #taiya hando #hando taiya #iuchi haruhi #haruhi iuchi #boon red #tokusatsu #toku cast #my scans #my translation #digital tv guide #various tv japan #interview #the designs really have left an impact

[verdantglow]

So my fiancé looked up the Neck Kisses playlist on desktop since I’ve been looking on mobile & I have learned two things:

1. This playlist was started in Dec 2023. So it doesn’t seem like an April Fool’s prank. This man has been working on this for months. The most recent additions were two weeks ago. He continues to work on this.

2. There’s a lot of Taylor Swift on this playlist that I didn’t see because I have Taylor Swift blocked on Spotify & now I have to go unblock her just so I can listen to the songs on this playlist, because I NEED to know what T Swift Joel thinks of as being Boat Boys songs.

#I think realistically this playlist is either #a) a vibes playlist for setting up the whole SmallEtho storyline in Hermitcraft #or b) an intentional move to make us insane #or both. #you know it totally could be both. #joel smallishbeans #smalletho #boat boys #verdant rambles