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#at 47. Far too young
ishkabibblesies · 1 year
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unhonestlymirror · 5 months
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I am horrified by how often I see people writing, "Well, we shouldn't take Holocaust into account when talking about Israel-Palestine war." Of course we SHOULD, and that's why:
"October 7 is getting rewritten and certain social media users are an active of the campaign to erase the atrocities.
I was barely awake on October 7th when news of the atrocities that were committed by Hamas began to trinkle in, horror by horror. With sleep still in my eyes, I had hoped it was a nightmare I could erase by burying my face in pillows and returning to slumber, but alas, reality was insistent. Hamas had butchered over 1,200 people, amongst them infants, pregnant women, the handicapped, and the elderly. Even dogs were not spared.
But Hamas didn’t just murder them in cold blood, they had tortured, raped, desecrated their bodies, and took hostages. Their depravity was limitless. And they were so proud of their crimes that they used GoPro cameras to record them, later releasing the sickening spectacles to the public as a form of psychological terror. Add to that the live streams, cell phone recordings, and CCTV camera footage, and you’ll probably have the most documented massacre in history—with a reported 60,000 video clips collected.
I’ve seen some of these videos, including those not circulating quite so widely in public. They will haunt me for the rest of my life—and that falls far short than the 47 minute “film” shown to select journalists and diplomats worldwide, a number of whom broke down and/or fell ill during the screening.
But as shocking as all of this deranged butchery was — which was entirely the intention — what stunned me in the aftermath is the world’s reaction.
Putting aside disputes of land and politics, it was jarring to hear such a blatant reframing of narrative. It started with calling Hamas the “resistance” and justifying the unjustifiable. A number of BLM chapters had put out “heroic” images of Hamas terrorists descending on parachutes. I half-expected them to release action figures of Hamas fighters too. Maybe they did?
And then came the "BUTs." Sure, some folks condemned Hamas, but it was always followed by a "BUT," justifying the unjustifiable. I've been asked, ad nauseam, "What would you do in their situation?" Well, my response remains steadfast: not commit random acts of murder, torture, and kidnapping. Call me old-fashioned. (For the record I’ve called many colorful words for my stance, but oddly that was never one of them).
It was a wake-up call for many, especially those of us in the global Jewish community. Overnight, the illusion of safety shattered, much like the dreams of anyone who's binge-watched a horror series alone at night. But now we were all collectively trapped in that nightmare, and couldn’t wake up no matter how hard with pitched.
The history of the Holocaust is taught in many schools around the world. “Never forget” and “never again” are sentiments that are echoed within that curriculum. Yet, while some might scoff at the persistent advocacy for Holocaust education, insisting that it’s hitting them over the head, a nationwide survey in 2020 reveals that the under-40 crowd seems to have missed the memo. Shockingly, one in ten respondents haven’t even heard of the word “Holocaust,” let alone being aware that as many as 6 million Jews perished in it.
Further, nearly a quarter of those questioned said they believed the Holocaust was a myth, had been exaggerated or that they weren’t sure. Meanwhile in Canada, one in five young people (under 34) either hasn't heard of the Holocaust or isn't sure what it is. And in Britain, one in twenty adults flat-out deny that it ever took place. Ah, the privilege of blissful ignorance.
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Most who underestimate the number of Jews killed in Holocaust have neutral or warm feelings toward Jews.
But it's not just ignorance; there's an entire industry that has been propped up and dedicated to Holocaust denial, complete with books, “movies,” and groups. To make matters worse, alarmingly, fewer Holocaust survivors are around to share their firsthand accounts and counteract the flames of denialism.
Nearly half of the 1000 people surveyed had stated that they’ve seen Holocaust denial or distortion posts on social media or elsewhere online.
I’ve always thought that denials of genocide—such as the Holocaust —were something that happened over time, with history slipping away and being re-written.
However, I never expected to be observing this in real time.
While initially the so-called “resistance” was celebrated by a subset of society, this soon turned into full-fledged denials of Hamas’ actions on Oct 7. Despite overwhelming evidence in the form of videos captured and shared by Hamas themselves and shared on Telegram channels and elsewhere, I would read and hear people claiming that they had only targeted Israeli military. Absurd claims emerged using supposedly ‘leaked’ footage where an Israeli helicopter shoots at Nova music festival goers. That video was viewed over 30 million times on X alone. The video, which was actually originally shared by the IDF on Oct 9, was showing their attacks on specific Gazan targets—certainly NOT indiscriminate bombings of music festival attendees in Israel. (Here’s a great thread that details how this piece of disinformation spread and geolocation information that further confirms that the claim is fake).
I’ve heard countless denials of the rapes of women (and men), despite overwhelming evidence in the form of physical evidence, forensics, and a number of witness testimonies. Women’s rights groups, meanwhile, remained silent—thus offering a vacuum for denialists to fill. Proponents of “me too” also stayed silent. Worse, the University of Alberta Sexual Assault Centre’s director signed an open letter calling Hamas perpetrating “sexual violence” an “unverified accusation.” It took UN Women nearly two months to issue a lukewarm condemnation of the brutal attacks. “We are alarmed by the numerous accounts of gender-based atrocities and sexual violence during those attacks,” they wrote, following a letter writing campaign urging them to speak up. Better late than never though, right?
The roughly 40 dead babies claim was debunked as a lie. At least that’s what people on social media now declare as fact, citing a Haaretz investigation.
“Haaretz investigation EXPOSES all the ISRAELI LIES from October 7th just like I predicated (sic),” reads the post of one particularly large disinformation account.
These claims persisted despite Haaretz directly addressing that post and calling it “blatant lies” and insisting that it “absolutely no basis in Haaretz’s reporting.”
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The denials continued regardless of the fact that a group of 200 forensic pathologists from all over the world had confirmed that babies were indeed murdered and that some babies were found decapitated, though it was unclear whether this was done before or after death. First responders also corroborated that they witnessed beheaded infants. Regardless of decapitation, these were babies, murdered.
The forensic pathologists also confirmed that humans were executed, bound and burned alive. Israeli police have over 1,000 statements related to the attack.
When some of the hostages were released, Hamas supporters claimed that the hostages enjoyed being held by them, that they hardly wanted to leave. That this was like a pleasant vacation for them, that’s all. Like sipping piña coladas by the beach. In fact, they would state that they were more concerned about their safety in Israeli hands. They even concocted stories of love affairs between a hostage who was shot in the leg and a Hamas captor. A sick and twisted take on reality where up is down, cats are dogs, and denial is truth. They dismissed the reality that many of these hostages watched their loved ones get murdered in front of them, and still had relatives being held in captivity. The hostages were also administered Clonazepam by Hamas, a mood-enhancing tranquilizing drug, before handing them over to the Red Cross, so that they would appear “happy.”
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Meanwhile, the Yale Daily News published a correction of an opinion column stating that the “allegations had not been substantiated.”
The denials go on and on, and I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a version of Holocaust denial, except this time it’s happening in real time—not years after the fact. And this time, it has a Wi-Fi connection and a social media account.
The conditions for this were ripe. Moral relativism is why just several weeks ago, Gen Z embraced Bin Laden's 'Letter to America.' It has been building up for years across college campuses, a breeding ground for ideologies that support violent means to achieve political gains.
The perceived power dynamics play a role here too. In the eyes of many, the Israelis are seen as a superpower whereas the Palestinians, and by extension Hamas, are seen as underdogs. In their view, the underdog is always right because it is the victim, and the “power” is the oppressor. So how can the oppressor be a victim?
Israelis, despite the majority of the population being Mizrahi Jews, as well as 20% Arabs (who were also victims on Oct 7), have been framed as “white colonizers,” vs the Palestinians who are seen as “POC” in the context of this conflict. Never mind that Jews, including Ashkenazi Jews, can be traced back to the land through DNA, archaeological evidence, and historical documents.
An overall distrust for media is another factor, which has resulted in individuals taking the word of random influencer accounts as gospel over traditional media outlets. According to Gallup polls, Americans’ trust in media is near a record low. Only 34% of US adults have a “great deal” or “fair amount” of confidence as of 2022. This is a major hindrance to our sensemaking abilities.
And then, of course, there’s cognitive dissonance. When a group identifies so closely with the perpetrator and they commit heinous acts, confronting that fact happens to be uncomfortable. So, in an attempt to reduce that discomfort, they rationalize or deny the evidence. This means that they accept only evidence that supports their existing beliefs, while placing unreasonable demands on the other side.
But none of these factors would have gained as much traction if it weren’t for something that didn’t exist during the Holocaust: social media. This is the engine that helps drives this real-time historical revisionism and denialism. According to 2021 data from Pew Research, over 70% of Americans get their news via social platforms. A Reuters Institute report from 2023 found that 30% of respondents use social media as the main way to get their news.
We have a society that consumes sound-bites of information, both truth and lies (as well as lies based on grains of truth).
Social media algorithms—combined with human nature—tend to amplify outrageous untruths, which spread widely. Corrections, never make it as far as the original lie. They are just a faint hum.
Throughout the Israeli-Gaza war, we’ve seen AI generated images and bots used to paint a specific narrative—for evocative, emotional effect. But technologically sophisticatication isn’t a prerequisite for painting false narratives. Many “influencers” have taken to using existing images or videos and attaching misleading headlines to them—including sharing content that captures events in Syria while presenting it as taking place in Gaza. These networks of influencers have large reach, and can turn even the most blatant lie into a revisionist truth.
Researchers for Freedom House, a non-profit human right advocacy group, found that generally at least 47 governments have used commentators to manipulate online discussions in their favor, either via humans or bots. They’ve also recruited influencers to help spread false and misleading content, and have created fake websites that mimic actual media publications. Then there’s always Russia’s propaganda arm RT, and various other publications like Al Jazeera and Quds who have direct ties to Hamas and/or other Islamic regimes.
All of this has contributed to narrative confusion, and the erasure of unspeakable acts of brutality, and the denial of the facts of October 7, right before our very eyes.
If we cannot even share a common reality, how can have any hope of resolving anything?
“Never again” is happening now."
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What do you do when someone you love is a psychopath and a serial killer? How do you pick up your life and move on from it?
If you're Lionel Luthor, you don't. Your son betrays you and the legacy you built for him, and so your heart betrays you too. You sit at your desk with those damn pills your quack of a doctor prescribed and one too many drinks. You feel a warning twinge on your arm before excruciating pain, red and angry, blooms in your chest, and you never see the morning. 
The only good thing about this is that you never see your son go to trial for killing 47 people over a span of 6 years. People whisper that you are one of Lex Luthor’s victims.
If you’re Lillian Luthor, you don’t either. You clean the damned mess these Luthor men left you. You take over the company that your husband had the gall to leave you, just as he left you with your only daughter. You clean up the tatters of your family’s reputation and legacy that your son left behind. 
In the eyes of the world, you move on. You rise, finally able to flex the muscles so long held back by your husband and the rest of the world's expectations. And you bring Luthor Corp with you. 
The millstone of the trials and scandal hang heavy on your neck, but all your life you have taught yourself to walk gracefully among lesser beings with your back straight and your head held high, just as you did as a young girl with textbooks on your head. This is no different.
But once a month, you make a pilgrimage to Stryker’s Island. To Lex. To the son you loved the best way you knew how, the only way you knew how - with a firm grip and the relentless, uncompromising push to achieve excellence, the intractable determination to make him grow into his fullest potential. That this potential was realized in murder, malice and manipulation was not your intent, but the world is far too quick and vindictive in their judgement because he is a Luthor. The mightiest always fall the farthest, and those beneath them wait hungrily for the chance to pull them down.
Your daughter leaves you too. The daughter who emerged, not from your body, but from your husband's infidelity. The same one who once looked up at you with eyes full of innocent trust that you vowed you would reciprocate in the best way you knew how. And so you did your best to prepare her, to mold her in your own image - into what a Luthor woman should be in this cruel, savage world that both worships and hates Luthors. 
You’ve seen what the world does to Luthors who do or say the smallest wrong thing and you never want her to suffer those whispers and so you tell her yourself. Better she hears it from family than the mouths and forked tongues of strangers.
But she is too hard-headed and too soft-hearted to comply. She rejects your bequest, the ungrateful girl, and tries to escape the Lena Luthor you tried so hard to cultivate all these years. 
As if you don't know. As if you could forget that it was her who brought this down upon all of you. Her, and that detestable Clark Kent. 
And if you are Lena Luthor, you cannot move on. You cannot escape it. No matter how far you stray from your family. No matter how many reparations you make, no matter how hard you strive to separate yourself from the curse it brings -- it always finds you.
It finds you in the dark hours when you’re by yourself without the touch of another woman or the burn of alcohol to distract you - and suddenly you’re a scared little girl again, walking into an ominous house made of grim oak, unforgiving marble and dark shadows. And the only warmth you receive is not from a largely absent and formidable father nor from a condescending and controlling mother, but from a charismatic and mercurial brother who taught you how to play chess and promised you the world.
But it turns out his shadow was the darkest of all, and you didn't see until it was too late.
How could you not see it?
You were just a girl at that time, Agent J'onzz once tried to comfort you with that fact. Back when Lex was arrested.
Just a schoolgirl home for the holidays -- shoes polished as bright as the naivete in your eyes, uniform pressed to Lillian's exact standards, picture perfect but always with just one tiny detail you forgot that was enough to attract notice and invite criticism. This time it was the glasses sitting slightly crooked on your face. 
You were more concerned with weathering the scorching disapproval just long enough until you got back to boarding school that you failed to notice Lex's distance. You failed to recognize the signs. You failed to decode his lies.
You failed.
By the time you got back to boarding school, he would have killed 2 more people.
By the time you caught on, he'd already killed 31. Those lives are all on you, because you were so absorbed by yourself, you didn't see what was happening under your nose. And those 3 agents Lex killed because he refused to come quietly? The judge and jury he poisoned at the trial? That's on you too.
Forty-seven lives taken. Forty seven more than there should have been if you hadn't been so blind. 
If only you hadn't been comforted by the gentle hand holding yours under the table throughout Lillian's litanies of your shortcomings everytime you were home from school. If only you hadn't fallen for the "adventures" he had tricked you into that always ended with you in disgrace or punished, like that time you stole Lionel's prized pen from the King of Jordan, just for him. 
If only you hadn't believed the fairy-tale dream of the two of you escaping to the snow-covered mountain peak, of finally being free of the Luthors’ oppressive presence.
And now he's serving 20 consecutive life sentences, and you've devoted your life to studying and stopping people like him.
Now you have 10 years of experience as a profiler and an undercover operative for both the Interpol and the FBI. Your work has taken you from Toran, to Kaznia, to Corto Maltese, to Metropolis, and now to National City.
You have seen the worst humanity has to offer, from terrorists to human traffickers to serial killers. But you keep looking into the abyss.
Because you looked into it once, you stared it in the face, and you didn't recognize it for what it was. 
_________
Or, a Supercorp Criminal Minds AU
There's actually 3 major plots in this, and they all intersect in varying ways
The first is Lex as a serial killer
The second is about Sam and Reign
The third is the most vague one, which includes Lena’s birth mother and Leviathan
It starts (as the intro says) with Lex being a serial killer who killed 47 people. In one version of this story, Clark is a reporter who, like Lena,  made the connection between Lex and the murders. One night after dinner  with the Luthors, Clark sneaks into Lex’s study to find evidence he can use for his story. 
He’s rummaging in a desk when he hears a voice from the doorway.
“You  won’t find anything there.” Clark whips around to find Lena standing  there, silhouetted against the light coming from the hall. He tenses,  thinking she’s about to tell her brother what Clark was doing. 
“If  Lex really is behind these murders, and I know you think he is, you  won’t find anything there. He’s not foolish enough to hide evidence  here." 
Clark doesn’t say anything, he just stares at her.  Lena pauses, looking away. "I… I didn’t want to believe it. Not Lex… He  wouldn’t…” Steel injects itself into her green gaze. “But the more time I  spend with him, the more clearly I see the truth. You see it too, don’t  you?" 
Clark straightens up and nods gravely. “Yes.”
The FBI eventually becomes involved in the investigation, and the team includes a certain agent on the fast track to becoming the unit chief, J’onn J’onzz.
J’onn meets Lena only briefly, but he’s struck by the young girl’s keen intelligence and remarkable calm. (Eventually, he becomes the one who suggests that Lena consider a career in profiling and criminal psychology).
Fast forward a couple of decades later, Lena is working with the BAU. The other members of the team here are J'onn, Alex, James, Brainy and Winn. Lena is a transfer from Interpol, and she's had years of experience in profiling, suspect and victim identification, as well as infiltration, under her belt (I also hc that she worked briefly with the CIA and the MI6, mostly in intel, profiling and undercover work).
For the sake of her anonymity (and also because it was necessary for her undercover work), she's erased all connections to Lex and the Luthors (including old photographs and newspaper articles until the name Lena Luthor is but a footnote in the Luthor history with nothing to tie her to who she is now). She's also changed her last name. (I'm torn because I just don't know if I can use the name Walsh for Lena, it doesn't sound.. right? Idk So for now, she's Agent Kieran).
Lena is very professional, almost intimidating. She’s revered by the younger agents in the Bureau, well-respected by her colleagues and highly praised by her superiors. But she's very guarded and keeps everyone at arm's length, doesn't go out for after-work drinks with the others, practically sleeps with one eye open — years of working undercover and living with a serial killer will do that to you.
Until a certain promising young recruit comes along.
Kara is new in town — the adopted sister of Alex Danvers, the cousin of one of J'onn's old friends (I don't think teaming family members up is actually allowed in the FBI, so some suspension of disbelief is required here). Lena is assigned to oversee her training and transition into the team herself.
Kara's sunny demeanor couldn't clash more with Lena's icy, professional facade. Lena approaches the task with thinly-veiled impatience and something remarkably close to disdain.
However, Kara quickly proves to be more than a perky attitude and a pretty smile. She squirms at blood, which Lena is quick to exploit at first (What FBI profiler can't stand the sight of a corpse? "We profile serial killers here, not celebrities in high-waisted jeans.").
But Kara displays true empathy to the victims and their families, she's sensitive to other people's emotions and knows just what to say to get a reluctant victim or witness talking. She's extremely dedicated to catching the unsubs, and relentless in her investigation. Not to mention, she's extremely handy to have around in a crisis.
Lena finds this last part out when they're on a case, trying to find a missing girl.
The team is headed to the unsub's apartment, but on a hunch, Lena heads to an abandoned warehouse near the apartment, with only Kara as backup. They enter the warehouse, and just as they're clearing the rooms and checking for the missing girl, the unsub attacks Lena and manages to pin her to the ground, choking her. Kara gets there just in time to shoot the unsub in the leg, saving Lena's life.
Later that evening, Kara and the rest of the team go to the bar to celebrate. Lena is absent, as usual.
Just as Kara is getting another round of drinks at the bar, a low, smoky voice interrupts her. "Didn't profile you as a drinker, Danvers.”
Kara squeaks, nearly dropping the drinks, and turns to see Lena smirking behind her. “I wonder what other surprises you're hiding behind those glasses and cardigans."
"Agent Kieran! I didn’t expect to see you here— No, these aren't all for me, I— " Lena's face softens at Kara's babbling, and she takes a few of the shot glasses from Kara's hands.
"You know, I have a rule..." A wry smile lifts one corner of her lipsticked mouth. "Anyone who saves my life gets to call me Lena."
Kara blushes profusely at the other woman’s arched eyebrow. "Well then, if I'm calling you Lena..."
Lena smirks. "Kara it is, then."
For the first time — much to the gaping surprise of the rest of the team she's worked with for years — Lena joins them for a post-case drink.
To everyone's — and no one's — surprise, the pair quickly become the best of friends.
Two days into their friendship, Lena starts jokingly calling Kara Supergirl. Three weeks later, they start grabbing lunch together. Three months in, Kara sends Lena a video of herself petting a St. Bernard on the street only to be bowled over in a mass of furry paws and puppy licks — and the cadets Lena is training are even more bowled over to hear the "Ice Queen" laugh. Of course, they're later treated with a scorching glare and a sharp reprimand, but it's a revelation just to discover that she's actually physically capable of laughing.
By six months, the whole department is in a secret "will they or won't they" betting pool. A year in, and every other department has stakes in the pool (Alex publicly condemns the pool, but secretly bets a hundred bucks that "they will" by winter).
One time while they're eating lunch together, Kara tells Lena why she became a profiler when her career was in journalism.
"It just felt... too late. I'd be covering these stories about these terrible things, people who were already victims, and I thought... it's too late... Don't get me wrong, I loved being a reporter. Journalism was a way to bring truth out there, to give voices to these victims, but.... I wanted - needed - to do something more. I wanted to stop these things from happening. To keep these people from becoming victims."
But despite their growing closeness, Lena has yet to tell Kara about Lex, or about her life before the BAU.
She doesn't tell Kara about the woman she'd loved once, who hates her now because of the lies Lena told her. She doesn't tell her about Reign. She doesn’t tell Kara about the sweet young girl living far, far away, who plays soccer and loves to sing and read. The little girl Lena loves from afar, but knows only through secret updates from James, because it's for her own good.
Because that sweet little girl that Lena hasn't seen since she was a baby deserves to live a life that's whole and good — away from those who love her, but could hurt her. Whether she's thinking about Sam or herself, Lena doesn't know.
There are too many secrets, Lena decides, as she shoves them all one by one into their little boxes, clamping the lid securely shut. Kara is too good to be tainted by any of them.
Kara, who gets squeamish at the sight of blood, but resolutely hunts each killer like an avenging angel. Kara, who somehow, somehow still believes in the good in people.
And when she realizes that there is very little of that to be found in Lena Kieran or Lena Luthor, Kara will hate her as much as Lena hates herself.
But then the day comes when Lena receives a package in the mail.
She reaches in and pulls out two things: one, a chess piece — the white knight — and the other, a surveillance photo of Kara and Lena having lunch together.
On the back of the photograph are three cryptic little words that fill her with dread: “See you soon, sis.”
Panic overrides logic and years of training, and Lena stashes the package and its cursed contents into her safe. Heart racing, she calls the warden at Strykers. It takes several favors, but she manages to procure video footage confirming that her brother is still incarcerated. Despite the visual confirmation, she doesn’t sleep a wink that night, nor the night after.
Everything is quiet after that, so quiet that Lena is almost lulled, if not into a sense of complacency, then at least a state of less vigilance. Everyone needs a breather, a reprieve from paranoia at some point, and that is exactly what Lex is counting on.
A string of seemingly-unrelated murders heralds Lex's return, luring the BAU — and Lena — closer and closer. Lena knows she should leave, and leave soon. The closer the team gets to figuring out it's Lex, the more danger they're in — not just Kara, but the rest of the team that Lena has now come to care for.
But Kara, being Kara, holds onto Lena and keeps her from leaving.
Kara knows her too well now. She knows that something is wrong. She pushes without pushing, in that earnest yet respectful way, relentless in her concern for the people she cares about, yet still mindful and considerate in her efforts. It's one of the things Lena loves about her.
And then, after coming home from a case one night — Kara is shot by an intruder in her apartment.
The whole team is thrown into chaos trying to find Kara’s assailant. They all agree that the attack cannot be random, but there’s a frustrating lack of evidence anywhere.
But Lena knows.
The lack of clues is a glaring clue in and of itself. She knows this is Lex’s handiwork. Her brother’s way of getting back at her for “telling on him”, just like he used to when they were children. Except the stakes are infinitely higher this time, and he has gone too far.
And Lena — who should've known — didn't prevent it. She was too selfish, too greedy, wanting more time — more time with Kara, more time with her team, her family — and now this is the result.
Lena knows that Lex will go after everything and everyone she loves, because he wants to hurt her. Luthors are not raised on half-measures. Win the game, or burn the board. He will not stop, Lena knows this. Not until either of them is dead.
While half the team is waiting at Kara’s bedside, and the other half is delving into Kara’s case — two people are noticeably missing.
Alex can’t bear to see her sister looking so weak and vulnerable in that hospital bed.
Instead, she goes to Kara's apartment to clean her sister’s blood off the wall before Kara gets home from the hospital.
She's just getting a bucket full of soapy water when she hears movement at the door. Alert, Alex already has her gun out and trained at the door.
When the door opens, all Alex sees is a flash of black hair and wide green eyes before she gets a gun aimed at her too.
"Lena?? What the fuck?! What are you doing here??"
Alex puts her gun down slowly, her heart still hammering. Lena cautiously does the same, her hands held out to her sides.
Alex gestures at the door "How did you—?"
"Kara gave me the key three months ago." Lena's eyes haven't lost their wary edge, but she has the decency to look a bit abashed. "She said I could come over anytime."
"Yeah, but Kara's still in the hospital. What are you doing here?"
"I know that," Lena slants her a light glare as she looks around Kara's apartment. "I just — I wanted to make sure the place is secure, and... well... I didn't want Kara to come home to that."
She gestures at the blood-spattered wall, but looks away quickly. As if she, like Alex, can't bear to stand the sight of Kara's blood.
It's funny. They're both seasoned agents, they deal with horrific things on an almost daily basis. The sight of blood rarely fazes either of them anymore. Except this is Kara's blood.
It seems impossible that Lena could get any paler, but here she is, as white as a ghost and looking just as sick as Alex feels. And yet, she's still here. Out of everyone in Kara's circle of friends and family, only Alex and Lena are here, performing a task that somehow seems more terrible than anything either of them have encountered.
It's in this moment that it begins to dawn on Alex just how special Lena is. How special she may still become.
Alex bends down and drags the bucket of soapy water to the wall. She doesn't look at Lena, and instead focuses on the wall and swallows down bile at the sight of her sister's blood. Over her shoulder, she mutters "Grab a sponge."
"That's not gonna be enough. We, um—" Lena clears her throat and chokes out. "— need bleach."
Alex nods curtly. "Under the kitchen sink."
Lena gets the bleach, and the two of them silently begin scrubbing Kara's blood off her walls, and that's that. Once they're done, Alex gets a couple of beers that Kara keeps especially for Alex in her fridge and offers one to Lena.
Then Alex gives her a mild version of a shovel talk lol
And then, two days before Kara is released from the hospital, the news breaks. Lex Luthor, convicted serial killer, has escaped from prison.
All eyes are focused on the BAU screen, except J’onn’s. He turns to his left. Lena Kieran watches the television without batting an eye.
Lena waits only until after Kara has come back home, to make sure that she's safe, that Alex is staying with her for now.
Looking at the blonde tucked into blankets on the couch, soft and vulnerable, Lena can't bring herself to say goodbye, so instead, she just leans over to kiss Kara on the forehead and says good night.
Then without a word, without even packing a bag, Lena Luthor leaves National City to lure her brother out of the shadows.
Lena makes her exit just as the team is on the cusp of finding out that Lena Kieran is Lena Luthor.
She leaves her apartment intact, knowing that Kara and the rest of the team will eventually search it. She sticks the surveillance photo of her and Kara on the bedroom mirror and writes on the glass in red lipstick: "I'm sorry. I promise I'll make this right."
J'onn is the only one who knows the truth of who Lena really is, and in the end, he's the one who tells them.
With Lena gone, it's clear to J'onn that she's about to do something monumentally stupid, like sacrifice herself for the team. He gathers everyone, and tells them the truth.
The group is gathered around the conference table, staring at pictures of young Lena on the screen.
Tiny Lena, not even 5 years old, just after she was adopted by the Luthors, her wide green eyes sad and confused, her little hands clutching a worn, well-loved teddy bear.
Six year old Lena and a teenaged Lex Luthor standing together in front of Lena's new school. The little girl in her neat uniform, holding onto the older boy's hand, looking at her big brother with an adoring smile.
Fifteen year old Lena on summer vacation, and a now-adult Lex, the young girl perched on the hood of a restored vintage car with Lex's hand on her shoulder. Lena is thinner, more gaunt, and her smile less bright, but Lex is different. He's grinning at the camera, looking every inch the charismatic billionaire playboy. You would never know from Lex Luthor's easy smile that he had already been killing for 5 years at this point.
Finally, the last Luthor family portrait, taken the year Lex was arrested. They're a beautiful family, there's no denying that. Each person in the photograph is regal and proud — but in each set face, there's a private war being waged. Lena looks far older than her sixteen years. Her face shows no emotion in each cut line, but her eyes betray all: a somber intensity that's impossible to look away from. Lex is the exact opposite. His smile is charming and draws the viewer's gaze, but his eyes are cold and dead. Within 8 months, Lex would be in prison, Lionel would be dead, Lillian would be running the company, and Lena would no longer be a Luthor.
Kara feels... she doesn't know how she feels.
There's anger, shock, confusion and... hurt. A lot of hurt, a heavy ball of it resting on the base of her spine, mixed with the ache of a longing she doesn't understand, something broken that only confuses her more. So she decides to settle on the anger.
Yes, anger is good. It gives her a sense of purpose and clarity, and it doesn't threaten to make her curl up into a tiny ball. She's angry that her best friend — one of the most important people in her life, second only to Alex — has been hiding all of this from her for years. She's angry that Lena, who has taught her so many things — not just about being a profiler, but about life and love and friendship — didn't trust her enough to tell her about any of this.
Anger is good, because it keeps the tears stinging the back of her eyes from falling, because... because Kara's always thought she knows Lena better than anyone. Had believed that out of everyone, Lena had trusted her, Kara Danvers, enough to get to know her. But now, it seems she doesn't really know Lena at all.
The screen flickers.
Everyone blinks up at the screen in confusion as it begins to glitch. Suddenly, the photos of Lena disappear from the monitors. It’s replaced by what looks like a grainy video feed. Kara turns to J’onn, who shakes his head, frowning. This was not his doing.
“What the hell?” Alex frowns up at the monitor and nudges Winn, who immediately squints into his computer screen. “Who’s doing that?”
“I have no idea...” Winn mutters. “Gimme a second...”
It looks like feed from a surveillance video, except it’s showing what looks like a cabin. Even from the pixelated image, it looks well-decorated, expensive, like something from a country home magazine. Outside the far window, Kara can see a view of snow-capped mountains. Outlined in the middle is a dark shadow of a man.
“They live soft, luxurious lives, don’t they? Your so-called friends. Oblivious, unencumbered by knowledge, and so pathetically... mortal. Fragile.” A smooth baritone voice cuts through the static, and Kara’s blood chills. That voice is familiar. “You and I, we have been trained in the hard school of danger and war. Haven’t we, sister mine?”
Another figure steps out of the shadows and into view, and Kara gasps. Even in the grainy image, Lena’s smile is sharp and icy. “Comparing yourself to Alexander the Great now, are you? But then again, you always were trying too hard, Lex.”
I don't know exactly how happens, I haven't figured it out yet, but Lena confronts Lex with the intention of killing him, except she's the one who's "killed".
And Lex, being the sadistic ass that he is, had the whole thing captured on a hidden camera and it's being broadcast on every BAU monitor, for Lena's family to see.
The whole team watches Lena "die".
But Lena had a failsafe. She told someone of her location, maybe Andrea or Jack or Jess idk, and had them standby to help her in case something happened.
The whole time Lex streams their confrontation, Kara is frantic. The table suffers under her fury, splintering with the force of her desperate grip.
Every time they get nowhere trying to track Lena and Lex, Kara punches the walls, and Alex has to hold her sister back, afraid of how Kara is losing control.
When the feed broadcasts Lena's death, it seems almost unremarkable. One second, Lena is standing, the next she's on the floor, lifeless and unmoving.
A deadly silence grips the BAU conference room. No one is moving, not even breathing. It's as if when Lena dropped dead on the feed, so did they. They wait. And wait.. and wait.
Lena doesn't move.
On the screen, Lex checks his sister's vitals and satisfied, steps over his sister's body and out of sight. The camera blacks out.
They all stare dumbly at the screen for a long moment, afraid to move, as if moving from their frozen spots would make it true.
It's Alex who stirs first. She jumps into action, frantic, ordering Winn to get the feed back, but it's impossible. The room erupts in a blaze of action, but Kara... Kara's the only one left staring at the screen, frozen in shock and disbelief, as if she can't believe it's real.
It’s not. It’s not.
In the interim between Lena's death and the reveal that she’s alive, Kara spends every waking moment hunting down Lex or secretly looking into Leviathan (which she also uncovers when she digs deeper into Lena’s life before the Luthors and learns more about Lena’s mother).
Kara goes down so deep into the rabbit hole, that Alex is genuinely afraid for her sister. She almost prays that they don't find Lex Luthor. Not because she doesn't want that man brought to justice, but because she's afraid of what Kara can and will do once she sees him.
Kara hasn't mentioned Lena's name in months. But then again, most of their team hasn't.
In the months since Lena’s death, two new members have been brought int the BAU team, William Dey and Nia Nal.
William and Nia know very little about Lena from the team itself, because her name is hardly mentioned. Nia only knows Lena through her reputation, and through what Alex and the other agents outside of their team have told her. 
Alex is the only one in the team who says Lena's name because she hates that everyone tiptoes around it.
Lena was their friend. Her friend, and it's not right that everyone flinches at her name, that they can't look at the plaque of her on the memorial wall. She knows how hard it is to look at Lena's picture there, just as hard as it was to look at Kara's blood on the walls.
But Alex is not gonna be the one to look away. Lena didn't look away when they cleaned Kara's blood off the walls, and Alex will not look away from her either. She's gonna hunt Lex Luthor down like the animal that he is and make him pay for taking Lena from their family.
But Alex is getting worried about Kara.
Her sister doesn’t sleep anymore. Barely eats. Kara doesn't stop — she pores over old files of Lex's murders, goes over the old profile, possible places he might be. Alex is worried about her fixation with Lex. It's not healthy. Kara's grief — or her refusal to grieve — is gonna drive her to the ground.
So she confronts Kara about it.
They're in the BAU conference room when Alex finally speaks up, but Kara meets her gaze head on. With one hand, she points to the empty seat Lena used to favor, right across Kara's. "Lena's chair, Alex. What do you see when you look at it?... Nothing, right? We've left it empty all this time. No one can bear to sit it in. Tell me, what do you see, right now?"
Alex glances over at the chair, then back at her sister "Kara..."
"Tell me what you see, Alex."
Alex sighs. "Nothing."
"Exactly. Nothing." Kara nods, her eyes hard. "Do you wanna know what I see? I see her, Alex. I see Lena sitting across from me, just as clearly as I can see you now.”
Alex swallows at the intensity burning in her sister’s eyes.
“I see her everywhere, Alex. All the time. I see her smile, her eyes, and I—" Kara's voice cuts off with a sob. The agony in her eyes is almost too much for Alex to take. It takes a long moment before Kara can speak again.
"I can't stop, Alex. Whenever I stop and I look at her, I — I know she's - she's gone, but she looks so alive, and I— I know the only way I can get any kind of peace about it is knowing that Lex Luthor has been wiped off the face of the earth."
A frisson of fear shivers down Alex's spine. "Killing Lex won't bring Lena back, Kara."
"I know that, Alex." Kara's eyes are dark as flint. "Believe me. I know."
Sometime after Lena’s “death”, the BAU receives an unannounced visitor.
Lillian Luthor strides into the BAU bullpen, tall and imperial in her furs, her icy glare making everyone it lands on feel small and insignificant.
She strides past the bullpen, past Kara, and comes face to face with J’onn. Her cold blue eyes render everyone in the room silent. She scoffs her hatred into his face.
 "Taking my son away from me wasn't enough for you people, was it? You had to take my daughter away from me too. I warned her. I warned her this would be her undoing, and I was right. And now she's dead." 
They end up having to work with Lillian to find Lex, because as Lillian says "It takes a Luthor to find a Luthor." [And there's gonna be an interrogation lol. I just have this vague idea of Lillian talking about Lex and Lena.]
"The truth is, I lost Lena long before now.” Kara suspects that this is the closest anyone has come to hearing regret in Lillian Luthor’s voice.
“I was.... harsh on her, in a way I never was with Lex. Lex always had a sharp edge to him, but Lena — Lena was too soft, too vulnerable. A Luthor cannot be soft. Not when the world is watching, waiting for you to make the smallest mistake."
It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. Kara slams her hands on the table, unable to believe the nerve of this woman. J'onn grips her arm in warning, but Kara ignores him, snarling at Lillian, her anger plain on her face. "You abused her! You made her feel unworthy of love, unable to trust anyone—"
Lillian lifts her chin. "I made sure my daughter could face a world that's hungry for Luthor blood. I made her a Luthor."
"She was just a little girl when she came to you!" Kara shouts, her fury growing by the second. "A little girl whose mother just died, who was looking for love, and instead she found you. She trusted you—"
Lillian's voice rises, a flash of heat scorching the cool, detached dignified tones. "I made her strong!" 
"She didn't need to be strong!" Kara yells, surging up to her feet, her face inches away from Lillian. J'onn grabs her shoulder, restraining, but Kara presses forward. "She needed someone to love her! And you answered that with nothing but condescension and neglect! The only one in your family who made her feel loved was a psychopath who betrayed her!"
Lillian is struck silent, her eyes wide and her face strained as she stares at Kara. Kara meets the older woman's eyes, staring her down without the fear that a younger Lena must have shown Lillian all those years ago.
Kara wishes she could've been there to hold that young Lena in her arms, wishes she could've taken her away from the family that broke her.
"The Luthor name didn't deserve Lena. You never deserved her."
245 notes · View notes
wxxpingangxls · 1 day
Text
Dirty Diana
+synposis; once again, your husband is too busy for your 16th annerversary, and to add to your dismay, your pipes have bursts. so now you have to call the local plumber to help fix your leaky pipes...
+content/warnings; black reader but no explicit description, age gap( Gojo is 26, reader is 47), whiny Gojo, needy reader, teasing, multiple rounds, creampie, reader is a MILF, Gojo's divorced, slight power play, reader is more on the dom side, Gojo is smitten over reader, oral - fem receiving-, cowgirl
+pairings; Firefighter!Gojo x MILF!black fem reader
being married to a business man who was constanlty at work was fun at first. with yearly strips to ski resorts and monthly weekends away to the smiling and tropical coast. but after your two children had gone away to college and your third and fourth were in the last years of highschool, you became lonely.
"i know i know, i promised but you have to understand that the meeting was pushed back and we still don't have the arrangements for the business trip. i promise i'll-" you cut off the phone before he could make another empty promise. you huffed, groaning as you faced the cold dinner you'd made for the two of you. it was the first meal you ever made for him when you guys first moved in together and unsurprisingly his favourite.
you walked back into the kitchen to pour yourself more of that special wine you saved for this day. you stared at the sink for a bit, letting your mind drift off, the empty night sky bringing tranquility to your mind. however, amoung hearing the sound of rushing water, you looked down to see water from the bottom of the sink rushing to your feet.
you quickly scurried to the far side of the room, silently cursing under your breath. Your house slippers were soaked. you grabbed your landline to phone your local plumber. much to your dismay, he was all booked out for tonight and you couldn't wait until the morning, however he mentioned something about phoning in the local fire station as most of the men were trained to deal with plumbing issues.
you placed your full wine glass down upon hearing the door bell ring. you checked yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall, running your hands through your hair and wiping the lip stik off the side of your cheek, making sure you were decent.
"uh…ms Y/N?" the tired man asks, his eyes hanging low as his peered at your appearance. to say you were an attractive woman was an understatement. your hair hung in loose curls that framed your face and your light blue nightgown accentuated your body shape. your baby blue silk robe seemed to flow and shift in elegance and grace. "this is she, are you gojo?"
"yeah... satoru gojo. i heard you've got a leaky pipe." he gestured towards the toolbox he carried with him. he shlyly followed your lead into the kitchen occasionally leering down watching your ass through the light fabric of the robe, his own shoes thumping to the beat of your own, matching house slippers clicking against the tiled floors.
"just what i thought, a loose pipe." he said grunting as he reached for his wrench. "you want sum' to drink, gojo?" you asked shoving the half empty wine bottle in his face. you were bored, alone and borderline drunk.
he chuckled before shaking his head. "drink on the job? nah, no thank you," he sat up before he looked down and huffed. "oh come on, it's terrible drinking alone," you whine, slightly slurring your words, trying to convince the sexy young man to say a little longer. his sunken blue eyes bore into yours suspiciously. "you're alone? i thought i saw to dinner plates on the dining table," a sour expression immediately replaced your hopeful one.
"oh right. it's my anniversary, but my husband got 'caught up' at work again," you huffed out annoyed.
"you're married?"
"why are you surprised?"
"m'not...just asking," he shurgged.
gojo thought for a while. ever since his divorce, he hadn't come home to a freshly made meal. however he was here strictly for business and he needed to remember that. "well, if your husband isn't here, why let the food go to waste?" he smiled cheekily at you. your eyes lit up. it had been months since you'd ate with someone else. he smiled to himself as he watched you grab the dinner plate and popped it in the microwave. "and about that wine, why don't you pour me a glass to go with it,"
"my eldest was an easy baby. look, she didn't even cry when we pierced her ears," you pointed to the old picture of your daughter as gojo reached over to see your child in her infant years.
"wish i could say the same. last time i saw my girl, she was always crying," he laughed light-heartedly before becoming silent as he saw your puzzled expression. "divorce. my wife got full custody," he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair white hair.
“you’re divorced? you’re pretty young…what age did you get married?” you asked inquiringly.
“i was 19, between me and you, i didn't know what i was thinking," he replied.
you didn't pry further. you moved over to his side, rubbing his shoulders as you bent over, silently reasaurring him. "i'll get more wine. here lemme take your plate," you whispered, taking the empty glass from his hand, your breath lingering around the back of his ear.
as you scrubbed the plate clean, you felt hot breath fan against your neck. "gojo, what are you doing?" you gasped as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist.
"don't act like your legs weren't rubbing agaisnt each other the minute we sat down," his lips moved up and down your neck sensually, moving in a rhythm that had you dripping through your laced panties as he groaned in response. "gojo, we shouldn't, its not right..." you protested, however you made no attempt to get away from his grasp, even as his grip tightened. "i'm a married woman,"
"married to a man who doesn't love you enough,"
"what do you know about my relationship?" you questioned hastly.
"well, for one, you never mentioned a husband yet your all dressed up waiting for company of some kind,"
"hmm, your smart for such a young person," you giggled, feeling caught out.
"you're so under appreciated in your own home. if i were your husband, you'd never feel alone again," he sighed in your ear before planting a kiss behind it. you whined as you subconsciously rubbed against his throbbing bulge. "goj-"
"call me satoru, please," he spun you around with one hand to face him.
his chiselled face moved closer to yours and for the first time you could smell his cologne. hints of sandalwood, spice and jasmine tickled your nose in the most sensual way. your eyes locked for a moment, before you looked away. it had been so long since you'd felt the touch of your husband let alone a man. the sexual tension increased with every second you guys took staring into each others eyes.
he soft lips brushed against yours as he looked you in your eyes, your foreheads touching. "if you don't want this, just say the words. say the words and i'll leave right now. this would be our little secret," he whispered. you searched his eyes, but all you saw was a sparkle. a certain sparkle he hadn't had in years. a certain sparkle you haven't seen in years.
his warm tongue swirled in your mouth as his hand cupped your aching cunt. his other hand was at the back of your head as the two of you sloppily made out. your hands cupped his face, caressing it in your soft hands. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed a finger against your clothes clit. "m'gonna make you feel s'good," he whined as he broke the kiss, moving down to your neck. you whined as he pulled his hand from your underwear. he took of his jacket revealing his broad shoulders and wide chest hidden beneath a white wife beater. his veins popping out with every movement he made. "come here," he whispered eagerly holding out his arms for you to jump in. he lifted you onto the counter, his tender lips somehow making their way back to yours again.
you watched eagerly as he lowered himself, face to face with your dripping hole. "look at you. she hasn't been fucked in weeks, has she?" he sniggered as he watched your face drop. he'd gone from a well mannered service provider to a man with a fucking filthy mouth. maybe you'll keep him around longer.
your thoughts were interrupted by a warm and wet tongue lapping against your clothed cunt. "gojo...!" you squealed instinctively reaching to grab on his hair and shut your legs around his head. he laughed at your reaction, the vibrations stimulating your cunt further. he simply just ripped your legs apart with his big strong arms. "keep still f'me," he demanded. you whined but nonetheless followed his instructions.
his mouth reattached itself to your sopping pussy as he continued lapping. he made sure to suck and nibble on your throbbing clit even through your lacey blue panties. you groaned as his fingers moved to play around and rub your slit. you huffed, your sensitive pussy twitching around an empty space. your legs started to twitch as he moved his fingers towards your clit, rubbing firm circles. "wow, you close already? so filthy..." he whispered condescendingly. "satoru...!" you pulled harder at his hair as his fingered moved faster.
your legs began shaking as it became too much too quickly. "what is it, baby? you gonna come for me, yeah?" he watches as you gasp and attempt to close your legs around his hand. but he was just too strong. you gasped as he moved his hand, leaving on the edge of your orgasm.
"what the hell?" you shot up from the counter. "be patient. i said i'd make you feel good, didn't i?" he raised a brow whilst unbuckling his cargo pants and dropping his drawls. they fell to the floor as his hot bulge made your pussy leak even more. "fuck..." he sighed, finally getting his dick free. curly white pubes dusted his pelvis. he pumped his cock a few times, smearing the pre-cum all over.
he pulled your panties off, slick sticking to your foiled panties. his thumb and index pulled your lips apart, watching as your stringing arousal stuck them together and your hole clench around the cool air. "how long since you been eaten out, babe?" he asks.
"what?" you sigh, too cock hungry to register his question. your whining gave him all he needed to know. he clicked his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sore bud. his large hands held your thighs open, as wide as they could go. you squealed as his tongue lapped against your cunt.
the only time he broke away was to spit on your filthy hole, watching as it dripped down to your clenching asshole. he was sloppy. and messy. and loud. he groaned in encouragement, making sure to make a mess out of your sopping cunt. "yes satoru! just like that... m'fuck! you're so good for me..."you cried out in ecstasy as he brought his mouth to your clit again, this time making sure to suck hard. he shook his head from side to side, eliciting a high pitched moan from your mouth. "satoru!" you moaned out loud at the stranger in your home from the sensitivity of it all.
"fuck...sator- m'so close" he groaned his response as your brows furrowed and your eyes glossed over in bliss. your hips buckled against his mouth despite him trying to hold you still. "stop squirming, pretty lady," he grumbled. "look at the way she's talking to me. she's just begging to cum," he squinted before bringing you right into his mouth again and holding you there. "come on baby," he spat on your cunt before diving in further. "wait- wait- sat-oru..." you wailed, attempting to push his head away.
your cunt wasn't used to the stimulation of being sloppily eaten. the sensitivity was getting to you fast. tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you began sniffing. his grip tightened on you as you squirmed harder. your legs shook and twitched around his head.
"gojo! slow down, please!" he smiled as he watched you writhe in his tight hold. your stomach tightened and your breathe hitched. your toes started curling as you arched your back and pulled his hair for dear life. your held your breath as you came all over his face. "yeah...that's it, just like that," he watched as your legs spasmed and your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled mindlessly out of your mouth. "fuck..." you slurred slowly coming back to your senses. he pulled away and closely watched you come down from your high as he slowly rubbed on your sore clit.
"hah...that was s'good..." you breathed.
"i told you i'd make you feel good," he whispered as he took your hand in his and took your shaky figure into the living room. his large hand wrapped around your waist. he sat upright on the sofa beckoning you towards his lap. you sat in between his open legs. "ride me baby, show me how much you've missed having a dick inside of you," he leered at your figure towering over him. you discarded the silk robe and kneeled over his stiff cock.
"now, baby, you ever been ridden so good, you're holding back tears?" you stare into his eyes for a bit. he smirked before rubbing your back. he saw the determination in your eyes, his face dropping at the realisation. "no..." he finally huffed out.
"well you know what they say. there's a first time for everything," you took his hefty cock in your hands, pumping it a few times before sinking down.
you winced in unison, your tight walls squeezing on his throbbing dick. he was thick and girthy. hitting you in all the right places. he had you drooling already. he tapped you thigh, breaking you from your dicked hungry state. "wow, you really haven't been fucked in a while," he chuckled cheekly.
"you know, for someone who can't handle me, you really are mouthy. you know what happens to mouthy boys?" you snickered.
"what..?" he replied, his lips pursing in anxiety and trepidation.
"they get punished, for having a sharp mouth," as you were speaking, you could feel his hips slowing shifting, trying to gain some friction inside your warm walls. "uh-uh, i'm not done with you," you grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together.
"please...i'll-i'll be good, i'll shut up!" he pleaded.
his negotiations were pathetic to say the least. you hummed in acknowledgement, your own juices leaking down in eagerness.
you started grinding your hips, experimenting with different paces. his hand remained on your hips, before you started to bounce up and down. "thank you..." he sighed, watching your body move up and down, fucking yourself on his aching cock. "you like that, yeah?" you asked, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders. his hand moved down to your ass before landing a heavy handed smack. he rubbed on the sore skin, before squeezing it in his hands. "fuck yeah, i love it," he whined, his hips buckling.
you laughed breathlessly however your pace never faltered. his grip tightened as you began to gain in speed. your gummy walls gripped on his eager dick, clenching tightly. you gasped upon feeling his cock meet your hips. your wet cunt made it easy for kento to thrust up into you and he made sure you knew.
"hah...fuck satoru..." you cried looking down at him. his eyes were glossed over in a cloud of lust and hunger. "you feel so good, thank you!" his fingers moved towards your clit, rubbing firm circles on the bud. he noticed the shift in your pace as your legs started trembling slightly.
"keep going, come on," he huffed sexily moving the hair from his face, with his free hand. you winced as his pace quickened. "fuck, keep squeezing me like that," he whined, throwing his head back. "fuck Y/N..." his fingers continued to play with your clit while his other hand landed another sharp slap onto your ass.
your eyes rolled into your skull as his hips angled towards the spongey spot deep in your cunt. "fuck!" you whine. your legs buckle as he watches you fall. "oh you like that?" he chuckles lowly, visibly taken aback.
"yes yes yes! fuck satoru!" your eyes roll back as his pace quickens. he fucks himself into you hissing every time you clench down on him.
"gojo, m'close!" you gasped, your grip on his shoulders tightening. he watched from below as your face contorted into that of bliss as he kept hitting that same spot. "just like that," your cunt squelched with every thrust he had to give you. your tummy churned as his dick pummelled your gummy walls. your slick was running down your leg as you let out babbles and moans of pure nonsense. you legs began to spasm as you started drooling. "whose pussy is making you feel good?" you said through breaths.
"huh?" he whined too pussy whipped to comprehend anything. you grabbed his face in your hands so his eyes were on you and no one else, "whose. pussy. is. making. you. feel. this. good?" you said firmly in between breaths.
"yours Y/N, your pussy makes me feel so good." he wailed loud enough for neighbours to hear. "there's a good boy," his large arm wrapped around your waist, holding you still against his hips.
your babbles increased in pitch and your legs grew limp. "you close baby?" you asked raising a brow.
he nodded eagerly. "use you words f'me. tell me how bad you wanna cum,"
"uh huh, uh huh, want it so bad ms Y/N!"
your toes curled and uncurled as gojo kept his hips at the angle that had you coming undone. "yes fuck, there's a good boy...!" you babble out nodding your head, tears stinging in your eyes.
"fuck, you're too tight, loosen up f'me," he whined, his hips were stuttering as he tried to move but you were just too tight. you were too fucked out on his hefty cock to even acknowledge his comment. "Y/N, you need to relax.." his voice became higher in pitch as he continued to thrust into your tight hole.
his thrust became sloppy and inconsistant as his legs started to spasm. "m'gonna cum," he huffed, thick cock throbbing inside of you. "do it inside pretty boy!" you instructed.
"inside? you want it inside? what if you get pregnant?" he stammered.
"dammit gojo, just cum inside me!"
he nodded feverishly, sniffling as tears from over sensitivity started to sting in his eyes. his hips stuttered one last time before he came in your sore cunt.
his eyes rolled back as he huffed. his arm around your waist tightened as he began to pull out. your cunt oozed with a mixture of your slick, cum and his cum. "yeah, that's it...look at that. i'm just leaking,"your filthy mouth was back at work as the creampie ran down your leg.
he slid his tip between your folds smearing the mess everywhere. his thick cock left your aching hole gaping as he kissed your forehead. as you leaned in to kiss all over his face, the landline rung. "i'll go get the phone," you sighed that such a sensual moment was being ruined.
"hello?"
"hey honey, how would you feel about a trip to a resort in Bali for a week?" your husband suggested as an apology for missing your anniversary. you thought for a moment before facing the firefighter in your home. he lay on the sofa, smiling goofily to himself, with one hand placed behind his head.
"sure, why not."
"and again, i'm sorry i missed our anniversary, i won't happen again." he chuckled from the other side of the phone. you did start to feel guilty about sleeping with another man when you have a hard working husband, but then again, your own husband was out having his own escapades with various other women you weren't aware about. "i'm sure i won't," you replied slyly before hanging up the landline.
you walked over to the nasty fireman before sitting back in his lap.
"round 2?"
"i thought you'd never ask..."
91 notes · View notes
mrchiipchrome · 6 months
Note
I need a kyra cooney cross one
if you wanna request, theres a prompt list in my masterlist :)
prompt 47. -I want you here, from tonight until the end of time.
------------------
The picnic date you and Kyra had only 15 minutes earlier ended with the sun going down behind the horizon. It was time to use the scenic field out in the countryside to stargaze, the purpley orange color of the lowering sun painting your faces gorgeously.
“Yeah, it should be there? I don’t think I forgot it…” You shoot back at the Aussie, who perks up when she seemingly finds it.
“I found it!” She lifts her arms in triumph, blanket falling down onto the ground. Picking it up, Kyra doesn’t notice you coming up behind her. That’s why she jumps out of her shoes when she feels your hands on her waist, turning around and going down into a ninja-like position.
“Whoa, Miss Ninja be careful, wouldn’t want you to chop my head off with those razor hands, would we?” You take her hands in yours, twirling her around like you would a dance partner.
And in a way she was, twisting and twirling around behind the car to the whistling tunes of the birds, early September glow making for an ethereal scene.
“Come on, let’s go lay down” The younger girl tells you after stealing a quick kiss from your lips. The early September air was warm enough not to need hoodies during the day but cold enough to need blankets at night.
Laying down on the picnic blanket placed out earlier, her head finds its way onto your shoulder, Kyra’s arm wrapping around your waist under the thick fluffy blanket. Your arms find their way under your head, providing some well needed cushioning.
The young Australian star presses a sweet kiss to the underside of your jaw, catching your attention prettily.
The soft oranges of the sleepy sun were slowly fading, making a starry night possible.
“What’s that constellation?” She points out the obscure shape in the sky made up of stars, forming what looked to be a w.
“Well, that my love happens to be Cassiopeia.” You whisper in her ear softly, your breath tickling the skin of her cheek. She giggles, pushing your face away from hers, you just leaning in to press a bunch of pecks to her cheeks.
The giggles increase dramatically, the two of you rolling around on the picnic blanket. When you end up on top of her, the urge to kiss her becomes far too strong, capturing her lips with yours in an innocent embrace.
“Mhm, you’re my greatest love Kyra. My only love.” You whisper to her, lips millimeters from your own.
“You’re a dork” She pushes you down beside her, going back to your previous position. “I love you too” She whispers into the night air, cloud forming.
“I wish we could stay here forever, just the two of us. I want you here, from tonight until the end of time.” With only the stars and your lover witnessing the moment of softness, you express every loving thought you have of her, voice lulling the midfielder to sleep.
You yourself couldn’t sleep even if you wanted to, the goddess beside you snoring loudly in your ear. Anyways, you’d rather look at her than sleep, her peaceful features twitching ever so slightly when your finger runs over them.
Even as the sky’s painted in glowing orange and pink, you can't help but think how much more gorgeous the girl beside you was compared to the sky.
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Batfamily ages!
im trying so hard to work out batfamily ages.
so far i have damian being 15 in current continuity. he was 10 when he became robin, and i think tim was 17, so theres a 7 year age gap, same as jason and dick.
i think i remember dick saying that he was the same age as bruce when dick made damian robin, parallelling bruce and dick to dick and damian. bruce was like,,,,28? when he took in dick at 12. theres a 16 year age gap between them. if damian was 10 at robin, then dick was probably 26 years old....
(dick has to be taken in at 12 years old or none of this makes sense okay?? tim was 3 when he watched the graysons fall, and there has to be a 9 year age gap between dick and tim or everything else falls apart. dick has to be 12 for the rest of the ages to make sense. stop commenting about dick being 9 years old, he isn't in this!! and also i'm farly certain they bumped up his age again to be 12 when he watched his parents die anyway, so stop commenting that he's 9!! he's not!!)
babs i think was 16 when she became batgirl, and dick was like 13, so theres a three year age gap.
Steph is one year older than tim right? and cass is at most a year older than steph? shes described as older than jason at some point but also has been frequently thrown into the same age bracket as tim and steph but i swear is like, 6 months older than jason? god idk,,,
jason.... died when he was 15, and tim became robin at 13, so theres a 2 year age gap there. he's also 7 years younger than dick. - he got ressurected after 6 months, and was in a walking coma for a while,,, he also trained for 3 years. im gonna say ressurected after 6 months -> walking coma for another 6 months -> lazarus pit -> 3 years training -> 19 when he came back to gotham as red hood.
i have no idea what duke is doing. he's paired up with cass a lot right? is he the same age as her? Edit: after reading urban legends #18 it shows Duke in college, so hes at least the same age as tim, or older.
anyway onto the maths! [disclaimer, i had to retake maths so please be nice guys im not a genius]
if Damian is now 15, and theres a 7 year age gap between him and tim, Tim is now 22? Steph should be 23? and if theres a 2 year age gap between tim and jason, Jason is now 24. Cass is also 2 years older than tim, but shes 6 months older than jason, making her 25. (Duke is maybe 23? he's paired up with cassandra so often that i want to put them in the same-ish age bracket, but i do achknowledge he used to be younger than tim although he has apparently been aged up so im making him same age as steph instead.) Dick is 7 years older than jason, so Dick is 31?? and Barbara is 3 years older making her 34. Bruce is...47???????? that feels too young. like way too young. bruce you had so many kids at such a young age the hell have you been doing you slutty old man?
okay anyway i feel better now that i think i have some solid ages. [for when i look back at this post in several years, it is 2023, and i am ignoring every retcon of their ages that makes them younger. bc fuck that.]
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catindabag · 11 months
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TBOSAS on Crack! ✨essential information✨
⭐️❄️⭐️
FIRST off, in honor of the book and its movie release, TBOSAS on Crack is solely (just) created as a JOKE!Alternative Universe that focuses more on the 24 OG Mentors of the 10th Hunger Games. This includes the funny/romantic misunderstandings of Coriolanus Snow and Sejanus Plinth that gave everyone the impression that they were actually “secretly” dating, and are indeed boyfriends (until they honestly were).
In addition, this Crack!AU will tell you the compelling story of how a bunch of delinquents “accidentally” stopped the Hunger Games from continuing, just because of a certain Mentor’s ✨nepotism✨.
MORE or less, most of the characters in the book are the same when it comes to their personalities and backstories. Well, except for our Mentors. They’re a bunch of crackhead Capitol kids with too much fun and stress on their hands. They even almost made Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul quit their respective jobs.
ALSO, these young walking disasters are not “all there” in the head. Heck! Half of them went crazy years ago because of the infamous 2 year Capitol Siege by the rebels that almost starved them all to death. Just ask Coryo Snow and Persephone. But as for the other half, let’s just say that all they want to do is eat, drink, party, and ✨graduate✨.
Here is a quick character info: [Read Me]
Here are their visuals: [Read Me]
Here’s the Hunger Games Origin: [Read Me]
Here’s their playlist: [Read Me]
Here are their ✨Code Names✨: [Read Me]
And here’s Dean Highbottom’s take: [Read Me]
Here’s that Epic The Musical Post: [Read Me]
Here’s the fate of District 13: [Read Me]
PS: For sanity’s sake, no Mentor or Tribute will be dying in this Crack!AU. No one gets killed! Bombs will still explode inside the Capitol Arena, but our crazy kids will wear the thickest plot armor EVER, just because I’m their only sponsor!🤣
Read the Cracks here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78,
The cracks are not in chronological order, but someday they will. . .
MOREOVER, this Crack!AU includes the following:
The accidental birth of ✨Snowjanus✨!😘
Also known as Corjanus, SnowPlinth, CabbageBread, The Grandma’am golden ticket to a rich life, and Strabo’s not so secret plan to rule all of Panem through his only son’s marriage to Crassus Snow’s boy.
Coryo Snow malfunctioning for the hundredth time because of how forward and shamelessly romantic Sejanus Plinth is.
“Fine! I’ll marry into money! I’m sick of eating cabbages anyway!”
“Stop throwing bread to the dead, Sejanus Plinth! Throw it to the living!”
The Mentors (intentionally) delaying the Hunger Games from officially starting because of their nonstop shenanigans with their Tributes (much to Dr. Gaul and her Gamemaker’s frustration).🤣
The Tributes slowly accepting (and sometimes rejecting) the fact that their Mentors are just a bunch of “dramatic nepotistic crazy clowns” who refuse to learn basic social cues.
The 10th Hunger Games being officially postponed (over and over again) because of Felix Ravinstill’s ✨nepotism✨ working overtime.😌💅
In truth, the Gamemakers were “forced” to stop the countdown (over and over again) because half of the Mentors illegally barged into the control room without Dr. Gaul’s permission. Afterwards, Felix just used the excuse of “My granduncle is the President of Panem, I can do whatever I want” card to postpone the games.
Lucy Gray ignoring the personal space of her fellow annoyed Tributes (and everyone she meets), just because she’s “Covey” and quirky.
The poor underpaid Capitol Peacekeepers wanting a salary increase, vacation, and promotion because they have been dealing with the Mentors’ extra curricular criminal activities for far too long.
All the Mentors (excluding Livia and Arachne) being genuine ✨Besties✨ to each other since their grade school days.
Livia Cardew only calls her classmates either witches or idiots.
Festus Creed being the real ✨Dumpster Diving Capitol Rat King✨ and the best free cheesecake coupon hoarder of the century.
“Dumpster Diving for free food coupons is a common school activity, officer!”
The Academy? More like ✨The Academy of Arts✨💅.
Everyone wanting to secretly major in ✨Theatre & Drama✨.
Crazy but rich AF Sejanus Plinth and his unhealthy obsession of being Coryo Snow’s beloved boyfriend, fiancé, sugar daddy, baby daddy, and future husband.
Ma Plinth slowly becoming the food benefactor of the Mentors. #feedmeMa
Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray being the best of friends who love to sh*t talk about their boyfriends every time they meet.
Seriously, Coryo and Lucy Gray are just friends here. Everyone knows that crazy Sejanus Plinth will strangle anyone who tries to flirt with his gorgeous Snow Bae sugar baby fiancé.
Lucy Gray genuinely liking the Mentors for their chaotic ✨dramatic✨ personalities.
Sejanus Plinth shamelessly calling his darling Coryo “Babe, My love, Snow Angel, Snow Bae, Snowy, Snow Baby, Sweetheart” in front of everyone and their dogs.
The Mentors randomly coming up to Lucy Gray and asking her to sing banned songs from the early 2000s.
Strabo Plinth’s unhealthy obsession with the Snow family. Apparently, he and the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow were very close “friends” and the best “roommates” back in their military days. They were busy “stargazing” and playing with their rifles all night if you know what I mean.😏
The Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth being the true evil geniuses of the Capitol.😈
Strabo Plinth insisting Coryo to marry into his family and change their surnames to ✨The Great Plinth-Snow Dynasty✨, just because it sounds more powerful.
Coryo Snow accidentally convincing his beloved sugar daddy boyfriend (Crazy Sejanus Plinth) to become the future ✨President of Panem✨ (after Felix).
Tigris and The Grandma’am selling Coryo’s hand in marriage to the Plinth family. They genuinely believe that old man Strabo Plinth will lower the food prices if Sejanus marries Coryo for the sake of Panem.
Tigris Snow finally quitting her job (she got fired for being a weird cheese addict) and happy dancing for a whole week when she heard that her sweet little Coryo will marry into the Plinth family fortune.
Tigris, the Grandma’am, and Ma Plinth planning the ultimate ✨Snowjanus Royal Wedding of The Century✨.
The Grandma’am and evil Strabo Plinth scheming together to rule Panem and its people through ✨The Great SnowPlinth Union✨.
Ma Plinth wanting at least 5 beautiful grandchildren out of The Great SnowPlinth Union, while Strabo and the Grandma’am demanded 2 dozen (and more). #24&More
Lysistrata Vickers being the founder and President of the Capitol’s SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Official Fan Club.
Lucy Gray supporting and promising Coryo Snow that she and her Covey will sing the best banned love songs at his wedding.
Reaper Ash being labeled as the “weird one” by his fellow crazy Tributes.
Treech and Vipsania Sickle being the best gym bros for some unknown reason.
Marcus trying (and failing) to ignore the annoying existence of Sejanus Plinth.
Lysistrata Vickers having dibs as Coryo’s official ✨Maid of Honor✨. Apparently, poor cheese addict Tigris Snow was tragically outvoted by the very influential and powerful SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Fan Club members out of jealousy.🥲
Festus Creed and Tigris Snow fighting for the position of ✨Best Man✨ through an epic ✨Dance-off Battle✨💃🕺.
Apollo Ring being forced to be Coryo’s ring bearer because of his surname. Honestly, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson just peer pressured him for fun.
Livia Cardew planning to crash Coryo’s wedding for the expensive wine.
The Mentors and Tributes avoiding the “Arena Bomb Explosion Incident” because of Palmyra Monty’s dangerous existence.
Androcles Anderson being a proud professional kleptomaniac.
Lucky Flickerman wanting to quit his job. Apparently, the self proclaimed magic man was extremely unprepared to face and deal with the Mentors’ collective stupidity.😭
The Gamemakers forgetting to edit out Sejanus Plinth’s little arena stunt.
“Marcus was just sleeping, Sejanus! He’s still alive, you idiot Plinth! We freaking postponed the games!”
“For the last time! Don’t kiss Coriolanus Xanthos Snow on LIVE TV! There are freaking kids and dogs watching!”
Coryo and Sejanus shamelessly kissing, hugging, and being dramatic AF inside the Capitol Arena, while poor Marcus and the others are left sitting on the stands annoyed and confused AF.
Dean Casca Highbottom intentionally calling poor Coryo “Crassus Xanthos Snow” out of spite and out of regret (and because he’s still madly and deeply in love with the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow).
Drunk Highbottom living and swimming in denial since the infamous ✨#Crasca4Ever! University Breakup✨.😔
Coryo Snow successfully convincing a drunk Highbottom not to expel him by pretending to be Crassus Snow. He later regrets doing it.
Drunk!Casca not being able to correctly pronounce half all of his students’ names.
Festus Creed and Androcles Anderson receiving a lot of demerits and expulsion letters from the Dean. However, they still go to school and join their class discussions like nothing happened.
Casca Highbottom banning the Mentors from attending ✨The Academy’s Annual Students Teachers Meeting✨ (forever) because of the infamous Heavensbee Hall Flooding Incident.
Coryo Snow secretly trading his cabbages for banned music albums at the Capitol Black Market.
The banned song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” accidentally playing on repeat inside the Capitol Arena because Felix Ravinstill forgot to detach his phone from Dr. Gaul’s master speaker.
“Snow On The Beach” stealing the top spot on the Capitol Billboard Hot 100 because of Coryo Snow and Lucy Gray’s final performance inside the Capitol Arena.
The Mentors trolling Lucky Flickerman and Lepidus Malmsey for the hundredth time.
Hilarius Heavensbee secretly collects movie records from the early 2000s. His favorite banned film is ✨Legally Blonde✨.
Io Jasper and Urban Canville being a bunch of shameless nerds who can’t properly communicate with each other.
Professor Sickle trying to convince Drunk!Casca Highbottom to give her a raise and promotion for tolerating the Mentors’ shenanigans and stupidity.
Crazy Palmyra Monty forever mentally and emotionally scarring her classmates (especially Florus Friend) with her homemade poisonous snacks.
Florus Friend fearing and avoiding Palmyra Monty’s accursed deadly bread rolls and expired sandwiches.
Felix Ravinstill being a genuine good friend and great Class President to everyone.
Dennis Fling asking poor sensitive Felix to beg for some illegal ✨Miracle Pills✨ from Lysistrata to cure Hy and Dill’s respiratory related illnesses.
Everyone knows that Persephone Price willingly ate that infamous “Maid Stew” that her father made for them to survive.
Festus Creed’s ✨PerseFest✨ agenda.
Dairy Heiress Domitia Whimsiwick fawning over Tanner’s skills and biceps.
Coral perfecting her somersault to impress the Capitol crowd and her idiot Mentor.
The Mentors pretending to be stupid whenever they attend Dr. Gaul’s class.
Dr. Gaul giving up on grooming poor Coryo Snow to become her successor because she realized that his brain doesn’t work properly whenever he’s with Sejanus.
Poor homeless Hilarius Heavensbee getting disowned and kicked out of the ✨Queen Bee Mansion✨ by his evil weirdo parents for being a loser nuisance towards his smarter and perfect younger brother.
Livia and Arachne convincing themselves that Casca Highbottom is actually Coryo Snow’s true sugar daddy.
Meanwhile, Florus Friend thinks Strabo Plinth is the real sugar daddy of poor Coryo Snow and homeless Hilarius Heavensbee.
Dr. Gaul openly wanting to strangle the Mentors for acting being stupid.
Urban Canville’s secret mission to strangle Lucky Flickerman and his annoying bird.
Felix Ravinstill being the favorite darling grandnephew son of President Gran Gran.
Festus winning the position of ✨Class Representative✨. Apparently, Creed only won because Sejanus “accidentally” locked Urban Canville inside a bathroom stall.
Persephone Price and Mizzen being the best pizza partners in crime. Somebody, these two idiots will rule all of Panem with their ruthless ✨Pizza Palace Empire✨.
Drunk!Coryo genuinely believes that Felix Ravinstill is the current President of Panem.
Drunk!Sejanus, Drunk!Coryo, Drunk!Festus, and Drunk!Lysistrata acting like shameless fools in front of their Tributes. The poor and underpaid Peacekeepers were not amused.
Festus Creed and Sejanus Plinth stripping on broad daylight because of the summer heat.
Reaper Ash praying for some normalcy and mental peace every day.
Jessup and Sheaf talking and singing with the Capitol’s “sacred” rabid raccoons and wild squirrels in order to stay sane.
Mizzen being a terrible little gremlin.
The Mentors trying to recreate The Hunger Games until ✨Panemvision✨ was born.
Livia’s own version of The Hungers Games is basically ✨Love Island✨ on crack and steroids.
Because of the awful “Love Island” idea, the rest of the Mentors had to write a serious 20 page essay on why the Hunger Games should be recreated/revamped into a true reality TV show with a “no killing, no gore, no cannibalism” policy.
The Mentors trying to convince the School Board Members, the Government Officials, and crazy President Ravinstill to change the 10th Hunger Games into a non-deadly talent show to increase viewership and sponsors.
Moreover, Coryo strongly defended the proposal by having Lucy Gray successfully sing in front of a live audience (again) on TV. Billy Taupe was the only one who got offended (again).
Meanwhile, the rest of the Mentors also convinced their Tributes to show off their talents that same day. That was Reaper’s 2nd worst day of the week.😂
Dean Highbottom only supported the proposal because it reminded him of his wild karaoke clubbing days with his drop dead gorgeous lover. You know who it was.😏 #Crasca4Ever #crassusmylove #SnowBottom
Clemensia Dovecote also backs their weird essays by simply stating that killing children will only make the Districts hate the Capitol more. However, if they provide “real entertainment” without the violence, then the Districts might warm up to them.
In addition, Sejanus proposed that the winner of the contest will be made a ✨STAR of PANEM✨! 🤩
And as the ✨Star of Panem✨, he/she will be given monetary support and a lifetime supply of cabbages and lima beans by the Capitol.
Meanwhile, the losers will only get 10 boxes of pizza, 2 gallons of orange soda, one body bag of sandwiches (made by Ma Plinth) as a reward for “willingly” participating.
Juno Phipps then added a “rule” stating that no Tribute shall be punished (or killed) because the losers must live and remember their humiliation on television for the rest of their lives.😈
Coryo and Clemmie also proposed that each Tribute must have a Prep Team and Stylist to make them presentable for Lucky Flickerman’s Late Night Show with Jubilee.
Finally, Felix Ravinstill and Dennis Fling closed their arguments by stating: “That being forced to sing and perform ON STAGE and on LIVE TV, which could be replayed over and over again, even after death, especially for Tributes who couldn’t save their own pride and dignity for all of Panem to remember, is the worst punishment one could freely give to one’s enemy. They won’t even be allowed to forget how they had wronged you.”
After hearing the Mentors’ closing argument, Dr. Gaul was ready to end it all and commit bloody murder in front of everyone.😡🔪
But after some deliberation, President Ravinstill (and his puppies) approved the Mentors’ proposal and changed the Hungers Games into the ✨HGASC✨ (Hunger Games: Annual Singing Contest).
However, the Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth insisted that they should just officially call it ✨PANEMVISION✨.
Meanwhile, Dr. Gaul tried to persuade President Ravinstill (again) to reconsider the Mentors’ stupid proposals.
However, she was outvoted by both the School Board Committee and the Capitol’s highest ranking government officials, just because everyone (but her) wanted to see what “true entertainment” really looks like on screen.
Livia Cardew even defended everyone’s ideas nonstop because, according to her, there was a lack of spicy entertainment in the Capitol. Damn the rules! This is the Capitol! We want ✨Love Island✨ type of dramas! Where are the ✨Real Housewives of Corso✨?! F*ck the Hunger Games! Give us the 90 Day Fiancé from the Districts!
And that’s how the Mentors “accidentally” ended the Hunger Games and gave birth to the most popular and craziest reality TV show in the weird history of Panem.
As for every Quarter Quell, let’s just say, it’s gonna be a true ✨SHOW STOPPER✨!
The first ✨HGASC/PANEMVISION✨ Quarter Quell will have the Mentors reap kids from both Capitol and District. Afterwards, one District Tribute will be paired with one Capitol Tribute to perform a special duet act (whether they like it or not).
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matan4il · 4 months
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Daily update post:
Another independent terrorist attack against Israeli civilians was carried out today, this time a vehicular one (where the terrorist tries to ram their vehicle into civilians on the street. This type of terrorist attack was first introduced in Israel, and then imported abroad. The deadliest one so far, was the vehicular terrorist attack in France, where at least 84 people were murdered). That's a small reminder that what happens in Israel, does NOT stay in Israel, and that terrorist attacks against Israelis should very much worry non-Israelis, too. What Hamas did on Oct 7 to our civilians, in their own homes, should terrify everyone, and not just for the sake of the victims. Today's 28 years old Palestinian terrorist, from Hebron, was unsuccessful in hurting anyone, and was eliminated himself.
The IDF has found, among other weapon caches, a truck full of long range rocckets, intended to be fired at Israeli civilians. Yesterday, I read a report that said the amount of weapons found in Gaza is so big, the army couldn't confiscate it all, and deliver it back to Israel, so instead, a lot of these weapons are being destroyed in Gaza itself, for example by running thousands of assault rifles over with tanks.
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It's been reported that the president of MIT was under a lot of pressure from faculty and members of her administratoin to cancel a screening of the IDF's compilation of footage from the Hamas massacre on Oct 7. She insisted on not canceling it, and even attended the screening herself. People who were there, said she looked horrified, and had to look away from the screen at certain points. Will that make a chance in how antisemitism is treated on the MIT campus? I think it's important to listen to Jewish students on whether they see a real change on this. If they don't, she still needs to resign or be fired, just like the president of Harvard, and many other university presidents, who have been allowing antisemitism to thrive on their campuses for years.
Ritchie Torres might be my favorite American politician at the moment. I salute his moral clarity, his willingness to look at the conflict in depth instead of through a simplified prism that de-humanizes Jews, and his courage in speaking up for what's right, for Jewish people, and against antisemitism, even when he might pay a heavy price for that. He's been doing so consistently for years. This post he shared is absolutely horrifying, the 53% who think it should be okay to call for the genocide of Jews is SO telling. I'm grateful to Ritchie for calling this attitude out. If you can, please support him!
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In my daily update post yesterday, I mentioned Jews needing police escort, because of anti-Israel protesters. Here is a Jewish activist speaking about Ayelet Levy, the mother of 19 years old Naama Levy (held hostage by Hamas), who came to NYC to talk about her daughter (you probably saw Naama, she was featured in one of the three most circulated vids of young Israeli women being kidnapped to Gaza on Oct 7), and the meeting was targeted by these anti-Israel protesters. It's pretty clear what has happened to Naama when she was kidnapped, and since. The people who attacked this meeting, who kept Ayelet from speaking for her victimized daughter, are literally working against the victim, and enabling her rapists and abusers. I don't think I have words for how morally distorted this is, all of it...
These are 47 years old Elad Katzir and 79 years old Gadi Mozes.
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I mentioned in my daily update post yesterday, that Hamas released a vid with 3 captive men, to play with the minds and feelings of Israelis, and put even more pressure on our government, to give in. A short while after that, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ) released a similar movie, with the two men pctured above. This shows once again how coordinated the Palestinian terrorist organizations in Gaza really are.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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topaz-witch-tea · 6 months
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✨️Yanqing making flower crowns for everyone✨️
Hello!!!!! I am really sorry for getting to this so late!!!
This prompt is adorable so thank you for sending it to me 🥰
I am finishing this up at 1:47 AM so apologies for any grammar mistakes.
****
"Here!" A crown of red and white flowers was presented to Jingliu. She could smell the small roses and jasmine flowers woven around the green stem base, the overall product was much better compared to her nephew's early works.
She took the garland from Yanqing's hands and placed it on her head. "Thank you, Yanqing. You've gotten better at making them." A beaming smile greeted her before the boy returned to the flowers with her wife, most likely preparing another flower crown for the other attendees at the picnic. The white lion, the ever-present guardian of her beloved nephew, followed him back to the field and made sure not to step on any potential blooms for the tiara.
"His work has gotten better," Yingxing said as he refilled her cup with more peach wine.
"I agree, it suits you, Master." Jing Yuan laughed. Dan Feng nodded in agreement before turning his attention back to watching his child pluck flowers from the field.
The field was part of the Yuan family's private estate, a part of Jing Yuan's inheritance after his parent's passing. They never did agree with his choice to join the Cloud Knights nor did they agree with his decision to marry his husband over settling down with a nice girl and continuing the bloodline. However, he was their only son and ensured their comfort in old age and fulfilled his filial duties until their deaths.
They had not seen each other for quite some time and a group vacation was sorely needed. In the interest of saving money and not worrying about security detail, Jing Yuan had offered up this place. It was far away from the bustling social centers and ensured none of them would be disturbed by outside work. Today was one of the cooler days of the week and Yanqing had pleaded for a picnic outside so who were they to deny such a request?
The estate was nothing too pretentious for a wealthy, influential family but everyone had to admit it was a spectacular garden. The pavilion from where they drank tea was settled above the pond, the water dotted with a splash of pink lotuses and the golden, glimmer of koi fishes. Tall plum trees and sweeping willows were scattered across the garden, providing much-needed shade from the encroaching summer heat. Brightly colored flowers covered much of the area, leaving only a stone path for its inhabitants to navigate.
Now, those stunning flowers were plucked quickly and roughly by an excited little boy as he brought them over to his auntie to be made into flower crowns. If Jing Yuan was any less doting and perhaps more attached to his parent's memories, he may have tried to divert his child's attempt at plucking the peonies or manhandling the jasmine blossoms. Baiheng was no better, encouraging the child in his antics and weaving flower, stem, and leaves in their creation.
Baiheng presented the finished items to Yanqing, who took the garland and ran back to the pavilion. Mimi slowly trotted behind to ensure her young master did not fall into the pond like last time. A crown of small peonies and little white flowers was the design this time and Yingxing was the recipient.
"Baba! Here!" The Furnace Master lowered his head for it to be placed on before pulling Yanqing into a tight hug.
"Ahhh! Baba! That tickles!" Yanqing squirmed before breaking free. "I'm going to get the other one now."
"Watching him run is exhausting me. I don't know how he has that much energy." Jing Yuan said as he watched his child run at full speed through the garden.
"You were the same though. You had so much energy when you were young, it was quite exhausting for all us old folks." Dan Feng's eyes never leave his child, especially after the whole falling into the pond incident.
"You also woke up so early, such a change from when you are now." Yingxing chimed in, remembering how Jing Yuan would wake up at 4:00 AM to train.
Before the general could respond, Yanqing arrived with Baiheng in tow, a bright pink crown of Azalea's adorning her head. The boy ran up to Jing Yuan first, holding a crown of begonias and chrysanthemums.
"A-die! Your turn!" The boy exclaimed. Jing Yuan bowed his head so Yanqing could place his handiwork atop it.
"Thank you, Yanqing." A gentle smile crossed his face as his son smiled proudly at his work.
Yanqing ran back to Baiheng to get the last crown he made. "Here you go, Yanqing."
A crown of magnolias seemed to be the choice for Dan Feng's crown., stark white flowers to match the white flowers on his clothing. Yanqing had originally wanted lotuses but his last attempt at plucking them led to him falling into the water and scaring the koi fishes and his family to death.
"Ba, it's your turn!" Yanqing exclaimed as Dan Feng pulled the boy into his arms. Due to his horns being a bit too tall for his child, he placed the crown on his head by himself.
"Do you like it?" Yanqing looked up at his father.
Dan Feng smiled and hugged the boy tightly. "Yes, I love it very much. I'll figure out a way to prevent the flowers from dying so I can keep them forever."
Yanqing leaned into Dan Feng's embrace, "There's no need! When they die I can make more!"
The rest of them laughed at the boy's proclamation, excited to see his next set of works but also worrying about the future of the garden.
Thank you for reading!!! Please feel free to send me asks or message me to chat!!!
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denimbex1986 · 1 month
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'On a recent winter day in New York when the sun was shining, Andrew Scott rushed into a coffee shop between recording sessions for an upcoming series.
“I’m scheduled tighter than a teenage pop star,” he said, beaming.
The interview had been postponed once, and the location was switched at the last minute to save Scott some time in traffic. But he sat down fully engaged and eager to start talking. Immediately, though, a passerby tapped on the storefront glass and asked for a photo. Scott, without a grumble, sprinted out to oblige, even though the gesture seemed more like a command (“You’re under arrest,” joked Scott) than a polite request.
Scott, the 47-year-old Irish actor, is in demand like never before. That’s partly due to accrued good will. A regular presence on stage in the West End, Scott is known to many as the “Hot Priest” of “Fleabag” or the cunning Moriarty of “Sherlock.” Soon, he’ll play Tom Ripley in the Netflix series “Ripley,” adapted from the Patricia Highsmith novel.
But the real reason Scott’s time is short right now is Andrew Haigh’s new film, “All of Us Strangers.” In it, Scott plays a screenwriter working on a script about his childhood. The film is gently poised in a metaphysical realm; when Adam (Scott) returns to his childhood home, he finds his parents (Claire Foy, Jamie Bell) as they were before they died many years earlier.
At the same time, the movie, loosely adapted from Taichi Yamada’s 1987 book “Strangers,” balances a budding romance with a neighbor ( Paul Mescal ), a relationship that unfolds with profound reverberations of family, intimacy and queer life. In a dreamy, longing ghost story, Scott is its aching, shimmering soul.
“The challenge of it was to try to go to that place but not gild the lily too much,” Scott says. “As an actor, I have to be in touch with that playful side of myself and that part of you that’s childish. I was actually quite struck by how vulnerable I looked in the film.”
Scott’s acutely tender performance has made him a contender for the Academy Awards. He was named best actor by the National Society of Film Critics. At the Golden Globes on Sunday (Scott wore a white tux and t-shirt), he was nominated for best actor in a drama.
Scott has long admired actors like Anthony Hopkins, Judi Dench and Meryl Streep — performers with a sense of humor who, he says, “are able to understand what you feel and what you present.” Scott, too, is often funny on screen (see Lena Dunham’s medieval romp “Catherine Called Birdy” ). And even in quiet moments, he seems to be buzzing inside at some discreet frequency. Something is always going on under the surface.
He’s been acting since he was young; drama classes were initially a way to get over shyness. Scott’s first film role came at age 17. He has often spoken about seeking to maintain a childlike perspective in acting. In that way, “All of Us Strangers” is particularly fitting. On Adam’s trips home, he sort of morphs back into the child he was. In one scene, he wears his old pajamas and crawls into bed with his parents.
“So many of the things that are required of you as an actor are a sense of humor and some ability to be able to put yourself in a situation. Because it’s all down to imagination,” says Scott. “For me, that’s the thing you need to keep. That’s the thing — because I started out when I was young — I don’t want to move too far away from. Like when kids go, ‘OK, you be this and I’ll be this.’ That ability doesn’t leave us. What does leave us is a lack of self-consciousness. Our job is to hold on to that.”
Haigh, the British filmmaker of “45 Years” and “Weekend,” began thinking of Scott for the role early on. They met and talked through the script for a few hours.
“He’s a similar generation to me. He’s a tiny bit younger than me, but he’s from the same generation,” says Haigh. “He understands that experience.”
Scott came out publicly in 2013, but his natural inclination is to be private. “I feel like I’ve given so much of myself in the film, you think you don’t want to give it all away,” he says. He describes “All of Us Strangers” — which Haigh shot partly in his childhood home — as personal, but not autobiographical in its depiction of the alienation that can linger after coming out.
“Mercifully, I feel very comfortable for the most part. But it stays with you that pain, and it actually makes you more compassionate, I think. Because we shot in Andrew’s childhood home, that sort of threw down the gauntlet in relation to how much of his own personality he was giving,” says Scott. “I wanted it to be sort of unadorned, unarmored and raw. That’s why I think there’s such tenderness in the film.”
Scott has sometimes recoiled from how sexuality is talked about the media and in Hollywood. He recently said the phrase “openly gay” should be done away with. As of late December, Scott hadn’t yet watched “All of Us Strangers” with his parents, though he planned to.
“The best way to express it is to say I’ll be very sensitive to how they watch it and how they feel about it, and how it makes me feel them watching it,” Scott says.
The tenderness in the film is also owed in part to Scott’s chemistry with Mescal. On-screen chemistry is an amorphous quality that the film industry has long tried to turn into a science with camera tests and marketing that flirts with real-life romance.
But for Scott, it’s something different. He and Phoebe Waller-Bridge had chemistry, overwhelmingly, in “Fleabag,” but that didn’t have anything to do with sexual attraction. Pinpointing that quality is something Scott pondered during Simon Stephens and Sam Yates’ recent staging of Chekhov’s “Uncle Vanya” at the National Theater. Scott played all eight roles, meaning he essentially had to have chemistry with himself.
“Chemistry isn’t just about sexual chemistry. It’s something to do with listening, and I think it’s something to do with playfulness,” Scott says. “Your ability to listen to someone and take note of what someone is doing is chemistry. You have to wait and see what the other actor is doing.”
A few moments later, Scott will have to rush out just as quickly as he arrived. But before that, he leaned back, naturally lit by the winter sun, and pondered whether “All of Us Strangers,” in the nakedness of his performance, had taken him somewhere he hadn’t before been as an actor.
“Yeah, I think so,” said Scott. “Or else to return to something that perhaps I’ve been before.”'
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positivelybeastly · 4 months
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A Completely Unbiased and Totally Comprehensive Beast Reading List, Pt. 1
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As a member of the first class of X-Men, the intelligently gifted Dr. Hank McCoy has been fighting for the peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans for most of his life, under the tutelage of Professor Xavier. Born with an enhanced physique, strength, and muscular structure, he has adopted the name Beast.
Well, hello there, friends! Welcome to a completely unbiased, totally comprehensive, not at all too long reading list that aims to show you the story of everyone's favourite Beast, from start to finish!
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Origins
As one of the original X-Men, Beast features in almost every issue of the very first iteration of the team - but to put it bluntly, 60s X-Men sucks, and I want you to enjoy this character, so we're going to start with some aggressive curation.
X-Men Origins: Beast, by Mike Carey - a solo story that retells Hank's origins, including his pre-X-Men life, and an insight into his mindset, his relationship with humanity, and his first meeting with the X-Men. It also happens to have some rather lovely art, and a fantastic last page spread that expresses a lot of what makes Hank a brilliant character. X-Men: First Class, by Jeff Parker - a collection of mini-series that fill in the gaps between stories in the original run of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby's X-Men, this run is extremely readable, and does a very good job of forming a cohesive characterisation of both Hank, the X-Men, and, particularly, Professor Xavier. You do not need to have any former knowledge of anything X-Men to read this run. Issues of Particular Note: (2006) #8; the meeting of Hank and Gorilla Man, who have a cute dynamic, and if you like Gorilla Man, you should read Agents of Atlas by Parker as well. (2007) #4; the foundation of Hank's friendship with Bobby Drake, aka Iceman. These two were thick as thieves all the way up until the late 00s. Giant-Sized Special; a collection of short fun little stories with varying art styles, featuring Hank on small solo adventures or in duos with the other X-Men. Finals #2; Hank deciding to leave the X-Men, and become his own man.
X-Men: Season One by Dennis Hopeless is a standalone graphic novel that aims to retell the early days of the X-Men from the perspective of Jean Grey, and features Hank fairly prominently. If you want to be more up to code on early X-Men history without dealing with issues of the 60s run, this would be a good place to do it.
And of course, Uncanny X-Men vol. 1. While I would not advise reading this run in its entirety, dipping your toe in to get some appreciation for what 60s comics were like and how far we've come isn't an awful idea. Issues of Particular Note: #7 Hank is momentarily abducted by a beatnik foot cult. No notes, this is just a funny situation that Hank ends up in. #8; one of the first instances of anti-mutant hysteria in an X-Men book, the first time Hank left the X-Men, and also the origin of his short career as a professional wrestler. #47; Hank and Bobby go on a double date with their girlfriends and get interrupted by superhero shenanigans.
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Grey
With Hank having now left the X-Men, he has a rendezvous with destiny, and while this is going to be a very short period on our reading list, it's a very formative one for young Hank.
Amazing Adventures #11-17, by Gerry Conway, Steve Englehart, and Arnold Drake. Honestly, just read this entire run - you basically get a very well contained story that delves into Hank at a very young age, and while this may be a series from the 1970s, it's actually surprisingly modern in its approach to Hank as a character. It's also interesting to see the introduction of a more horror/wolfman aspect to Hank's character, which is largely due to the contemporary popularity of Werewolf-by-Night. It all caps off with issue #17, which collects a number of back-up stories that originally came from Uncanny X-Men, that tell Hank's origin in its uncondensed form. If you started with Carey's Origins book, these story beats will be very familiar, but it's interesting to see what parts were cut and which were preserved.
A companion story that goes back and revisits this very interesting period of Hank's life can be found in X-Men Unlimited vol. 2 #10, as one of the two stories contained there. Sliding somewhere in between issues of Amazing Adventures, it provides a modern emotional context for Hank's transformation, and I feel obliged to warn you that this is a very heavy story. If stories about depression, radiation sickness, or familial death are triggering for you, approach with caution.
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Avengers
As you may have noticed, Hank has now changed from grey to his more familiar blue! This is due to printing limitations of the time, where attempts to render black or grey often ended up producing a shade that looked closer to blue. But enough of that malarkey, let's talk about everyone's favourite Bouncing Baby Blue Beast!
Avengers vol. 1, by . . . so many writers, but the most significant include Jim Shooter, Gerry Conway, Steve Englehart, David Michelinie, Bill Mantlo, etc. As the first X-Man to cross teams, Hank made history, and he quickly settled in nicely to the bitchy, high octane, absolutely bonkers world of 70s Marvel. Among other things, this is where he forms lifelong friendships with Carol Danvers, Steve Rogers, and, perhaps most importantly, Simon Williams. Honestly, this entire run has its ups and downs, but I'd recommend reading it from start to finish, just because it's fun, and Hank is so much fun in it. If you're more used to buzzkill Beast from the modern era, you'll be shocked at just how much of a kind-hearted goof he is here. Although, maybe skip the Korvac Saga. Issues of Particular Note: #137, which features Hank's initial tryout for the Avengers, with some story beats that will have particular resonance if you read Amazing Adventures or X-Men Unlimited, recommended above. #141, which sees the beginning of the origins of Patsy Walker, who you might know better as Hellcat, and who will become an important part of our story later. #148, which sees Hank embrace his disguise gimmick - while pretty much abandoned from this point on, it was arguably never going to get better than the trick he pulls here. Avengers Annual #6, which sees the origins of Hank and Simon's wonder-ful relationship. Whether you read them as friends or more, it really is a ton of fun to see just how quickly they glom onto each other as partners. #160 digs a little deeper into Hank's dynamic on the Avengers, and, if you aren't doing a full readthrough, this provides an interesting perspective on what Hank brings to the team, which is paid off in #163 and #164. Can you guess what it is? Yep . . . sex symbol. This is the origin of Hank McCoy, original mutant fuck machine, baybeeee. #171 sees Hank speaking Latin, being kind of a shit to Ms. Marvel, and being called a slut by Thor, which is kind of amazing, tbh. But Hank then proceeds to disappear for a bit, dodging the really rather awful Korvac Saga, so if you want to read more about our boy, you can jump right ahead to #178, where they make up for his brief absence by psychologically torturing him! Yeah! Love it! Next big issue of note is #188, where the Avengers get political, Hank gets to hold Ms. Marvel's laser gatling gun backpack, and press his nose against a plane window like a small child (it's better than I'm making it sound)! #194 has Hank at his best, to be quite honest, and is an all around nice little slice of life, quiet issue for the Avengers, for those of you who miss such things in comics. #206 features Hank speaking every language he knows for an entire issue, on . . . well, honestly, not even a dare, he just does it. #209, meanwhile is . . . heavy. Trigger warnings for the Shoah, the Holocaust, concentration camps, and a lot of dark subject matter, but it does showcase Hank at arguably his most heroic and his most tender. And then, finally, we reach the end of Hank's tenure with the Avengers, at #211, where . . . well, honestly? He leaves because his boyfriend is leaving. There's no other way to interpret it, that's just the text. He'll of course join the Avengers again, and is always active as a reservist, but for now, he's to move on to greener, more defensive pastures. In between these appearances, it's also worth checking out the absolutely iconic Dark Phoenix Saga. If you think you know this story from the adaptations in X-Men 3 or Dark Phoenix, trust me, you don't - this is the real story, as it should always have been. Hank only joins in on the story in the last third, but if you ever doubted his commitment to the X-Men, his friends, or the ideals of justice, look no further. And guess what, it's just a damned good story, starting at Uncanny X-Men #129 and going on to #138.
Hank also makes guest appearances in Uncanny X-Men #111 to #114, where he first properly meets the second generation of X-Men, though as you'll see, it's far from the most orderly or normal of introductions. For those of you who don't know about Chris Claremont and his predilections, you will learn - great writer, absolutely fundamental to the X-Men, but . . . hoo boy.
That's what I've got for you for the moment! I will be adding the next sections as separate posts, so that this doesn't get too long - feel free to check back here, or just keep your eyes peeled in the Hank McCoy tag, so that you don't miss the next section, as we move into the 80s proper! Also, I may be adding new issues here and there, as I remember things, so check back if you want to hear more about Beast's early years!
First || Next || Last
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saras-devotionals · 2 months
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Quiet Time 3/5
What am I feeling today?
Still sick, also lazy. I was very unproductive yesterday and it kinda killed my mood. I need to make a structured plan for today to adhere to so I can get back on track when it comes to work. But excited too! I got accepted to something amazing and I’ll be getting more details and everything today, just feeling really encouraged by that!
Luke 7 NIV
(v. 6-10) “So Jesus went with them. He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.”
My main focus was near the end in which it says Jesus was amazed at him. I just find it really interesting that Jesus can be amazed by us and in the case of this man by his faith.
(v. 13-15)
“When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.” Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.”
I like this too because it says that his heart went out to her and I’d like to think the same happens with us. Whenever we experience a painful hardship such as the death of a loved one, his heart goes out to us and brings us comfort.
(v. 23) “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.””
I like this, because the way we avoid stumbling is by abiding heavily to the word and his teaching. I feel that the parallel for this is found in Luke 17:1-2 “Jesus said to his disciples: “Things that cause people to stumble are bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come. It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.”
(v. 26-28) “But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written: “ ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ I tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than John; yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.””
I’m curious about the ending, where he says that there’s no greater than John but even the least in the kingdom of God is greater than him. I went to some commentary because I was confused by this and this is what they said:
This seemingly paradoxical statement is resolved by the considerations: (1) that John the Baptist was not in the kingdom of Christ, the same not being set up until after John’s death, and (2) that the term "greater" has reference to privilege, rather than to character.
(v. 40-43)
“Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.” “Tell me, teacher,” he said. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” “You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.”
I like this parable, I feel it’s rather simple and reasonable to understand and I’ll get into the point of it in the next verse:
(v. 47-50)
“Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?” Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.””
Although all sin is sin and separates us from God, it’s notable here that there are some that sin more than others (there are times we can compare ourselves in saying “well at least I’m not that bad”, but it’s critical to keep in mind that we are all still sinners!). But also notable here is that Jesus says whoever had been forgiven little loves little. And although it’s no small feat to be forgiven of all your sins, I do understand the point here and wonder if it affects my relationship with him.
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boywithlcv · 9 months
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Champagne Problems | JSUH.
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Summary: Johnny suh knew one thing. Y/N knew nothing.
tags: established relationship, Angst, gn!reader, barista!johnny, film major!reader, sad sad Johnny.
Wc:
A/n: part one! Also the first part of my BLONDIE series! Based off of Taylor songs sing she’s coming to Canada <3.
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‘You booked the night train for a reason.
So you could sit there in this hurt’
December 28th.
Four hours after the final goodbye.
the weather was anything but nice. the type of chill that nipped at peoples skin as it devilishly danced through the air.  The tall man didn't mind it though, he'd felt worse than some pinches from jack frost. The bustling sound of trains coming in and out of the station along with the crowd of passengers that left the vehicles carts. everyone going from one place to the next.
Though johnny, didn't quite know where he was going.
He knew he was going far, far away to hide away from whatever vendetta the world had against him. He felt as though he must of broken glass, the superstition his mother would warn him about when he was younger. though he's sure it was just because she didn't want to clean up any glass that johnny would've easily broken. though the superstition followed him to adulthood as he found himself a very superstitious person. come to think of it... he did break a glass bowl a couple months before, if that made any difference to his feelings about this situation.
Yes, the situation johnny suh found himself in.
the situation he thought he would never find himself in. because he was so sure, god why was he so sure?.
But it lead him to, standing alone. at an ungodly hour of the night, just so people wouldn't see the tears that fell down his cheeks. late night train full of people too tired or in too much of a rush to notice the tall man weeping away his sorrows over his lost lover. it also gave him time to sit and think, overthink or under think. it didn't matter. as long as he could sit in his hurt as dusk turned into dawn.
the hurt that was caused by his once muse, yn.
He wishes he could take everything back, maybe he wouldn't have been so stupid. A young barista falls in love with the film major. maybe it was a set up from the beginning, since the minute yn stumbled into his coffee shop looking as if they didn't know what sleep was. but yet johnny thought they looked beautiful.
He wishes he could take back when he made the first move. everyday yn would order the same thing, a basic black coffee. something johnny would always poke fun at. a drink he thought was reserved for older men and the occasional caffeine addicted mother. and every-time johnny would make it as a chuckle left his lips. until the seventh time they ordered, after a month of watching them for hours in his shop. he wrote his number on their napkin along with a J.
He wishes he could take back the way he smiled at his phone for the next week and a half like an idiot, every text he re-read a million times and could probably resite by memory.
He wishes he could take back the first date. which led to the second. the fourth. the eighth. the final.
he wishes he could take back letting them meet his family, letting them move in with him, letting them befriend his friends.
he wishes he could take back the last 47 hours.
johnny suh wishes he could take back loving yn.
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myemuisemo · 3 months
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Suddenly, Letters from Watson dumps us in the middle of the Great American Desert (part 1 of "On the Great Alkali Plain," 2/7/24). This is not anywhere I expected to be transported from London, and the contrast makes the Mountain West feel exotic for a minute.
The Great American Desert -- stretching from about Grand Island, Nebraska to the Sierras and pretty much the entire north-south length of the U.S. -- had become a thing of legend since explorers' accounts in the 1820s. When Dad and I drove across it in 2022, we talked about how incredibly daunting it must have been for emigrants seeking their land of milk and honey on the Pacific coast.
The way we went, out I-80, Nebraska shifts from green to gray as it rises toward the Rockies. After a while, the wind picks up as you go uphill into Wyoming. There's a lot of Wyoming, and after Cheyenne and Laramie (both of which would be small towns in most states), it's very, very empty. When we finally started the descent toward Salt Lake City, and the little valleys beside the road turned green with running water, it was truly like entering paradise.
Of course, in 1847, Salt Lake City was just barely being settled, as Brigham Young led his Latter Day Saints west from Council Bluffs, and its location wasn't part of the U.S. yet.
The Mexican-American war had started the prior year, 1846, and was still going. Spring-summer of 1846 saw the Bear Flag Revolt in California, followed by the U.S. just annexing the state. Gold wouldn't be discovered at Sutter's Mill until 1849, so while emigration to California happened -- the Donner Party made their ill-fated trip in 1846-47 -- it wasn't anything like the scope of movement along the Oregon Trail.
As far as I can tell, "Sierra Blanco" is not a real place. There's a Sierra Blanca in New Mexico -- which would fit with all the specific landscape, plus White Sands National Park in New Mexico specifically has alkali flats. Last time I drove through New Mexico on I-40, in late 2018, it was delightfully desolate, so I can buy that in 1847, it seemed completely empty, with even the native peoples avoiding some stretches.
Why anyone would be crossing New Mexico is a mystery, since neither Arizona nor southern California were much settled by Americans. There was some sort of wagon route across New Mexico used by U.S. soldiers during the Mexican-American War, so if I'd expect anyone to be about, it'd be the U.S. Army.
Utah, now, is downright famous for its salt flat, but that's west of the site of Salt Lake City.
Regardless, parties screwing up their trip to the west by taking an imprudent shortcut or mistaking the route was definitely both a thing that happened and, thanks to the Donner Party, a trope. Our haggard and starving traveler sounds about right.
Then he reveals a Plucky Innocent Victorian Child.
That "pretty little girl of about five years of age" is the absolute ideal of Victorian childhood, being perfectly behaved, utterly imperturbable, determined to see the best in all things, sweet, trusting, and looking forward to being reunited with her mother in heaven.
This kind of child is why Louisa May Alcott was seen as innovative for writing Little Woman about girls who worked on their character flaws. (This is also the ideal the March girls were being aimed at. Polly in An Old-Fashioned Girl comes closer, but even Polly would have been upset about being hopelessly lost in the desert with no water.) Contrast this with the street urchins that Holmes employs in his investigation, who are good enough sorts but scrappy, resourceful, and street smart.
Ordinarily, a Victorian child who was utterly sweet and pious would be a cinnamon roll, literally too good, too pure for this world, and thus would die beautifully but tragically before long. Being lost in the desert seems ideal for this, but --
She turns to prayer, and since someone must survive in order for this scene to be relevant,
Yes, darn it, I am on the edge of my seat to know what happens. I'm also grateful that crossing the Great American Desert in 2022 was a quicker process. I've been reading Carey Williams' old-but-interesting California: The Great Exception, which has a lot to say about how 19th century isolation shaped California's economy and power structure, not always for good. But that's neither here nor there -- I don't think we're headed to California.
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bluemidnightmelody · 10 months
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lover/fighter - Chapter index
Since this work will be very long, I've decided that it's too complicated to post everything directly on tumblr. Instead, I will link all currently available chapters to the ao3 version (warnings are in the tags on ao3).
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Summary: Rhea Lafey has big plans. After a difficult childhood as part of the Capitol's poorer population, she plans to make a difference on her own. After earning her position in the higher circles of society as a practicing doctor with her own practice, it's time for her to spring into action. But what she has planned for a long time threatens to go wrong the very next day. Without knowing it, she has fallen in with far more powerful people than she first realized, and when she is forced into a unforeseen work arrangement, she fears the worst. What awaits her is an insufferable playboy named Finnick Odair. What he's actually up to she doesn't know yet, but she's about to find out. Or how Finnick Odair meets someone in the hated Capitol who could change his life forever. word count by now: 376k
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Chapter 1 - Him
Chapter 2 - Her
Chapter 3 - Lost at sea
Chapter 4 - Swimming against the current
Chapter 5 - Dark waters
Chapter 6 - How waves meet the shore
Chapter 7 - After the storm
Chapter 8 - Sad like the ocean
Chapter 9 - The color of the unknown
Chapter 10- A spoonful of sugar against the pain
Chapter 11 - Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered
Chapter 12 - The young, the bright, the fair
Chapter 13 - Matters of the heart
Chapter 14 - Swimming in the frozen sky
Chapter 15 - Beneath the surface
Chapter 16 - Cold snow, warm memories
Chapter 17 - Just a game
Chapter 18 - Sea-weary soul
Chapter 19 - Message in a bottle
Chapter 20 - Green and Blue and White
Chapter 21 - Two gentle souls
Chapter 22 - Of pirates and wallflowers
Chapter 23 - He who strides on the waves
Chapter 24 - At the bottom
Chapter 25 - Victory and Defeat
Chapter 26 - Lighthouse
Chapter 27 - Spring and new beginnings
Chapter 28 - Present for you
Chapter 29 - Girls' Talk
Chapter 30 - Painting secrets in the sand
Chapter 31 - The Fischer's Boy
Chapter 32 - The art of healing
Chapter 33 - Fun in the sun and one shocking realization
Chapter 34 - Salty but sweet
Chapter 35 - I love him, I love him not
Chapter 36 - Pride, honor and sacrifice
Chapter 37 - The world of a victor
Chapter 38 - What's in a name?
Chapter 39 - And so it begins
Chapter 40 - A dangerous darkness
Chapter 41 - The face behind the mirror
Chapter 42 - Cloudburst
Chapter 43 - My crying hero
Chapter 44 - Neptune in 4th house
Chapter 45 - Over at last
Chapter 46 - A wild night out
Chapter 47 - Awakening
Chapter 48 - To the sea, to the night, to happiness, to death.
Chapter 49 - Walking over glass
Chapter 50 - Love is a tough business
Chapter 51 - Rules, and those who break them
I will add to the list whenever I finish new chapters.
~~~
Image source for my dividers: freepik
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Hell Bent For Leather Part 1
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Masterlist
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov
Summary: You're on the run from your old motorcycle club and abusive ex-boyfriend. You run into a man with the most beautiful blue eyes who somehow finds out who you're running from. He offers you protection and reunites you with someone who you thought was dead.
Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy, Brock Rumlow is a dick
A/N: There is little reader descriptions--only things mentioned is that reader is smaller than Bucky and has hair long enough to braid and be put in a ponytail. Tittle and chapter titles come from the song Hell Bent For Leather by Judas Priest.
Chapter 1:  Seek him here, seek him on the highway
You had ridden out of there as fast as your motorcycle could take you in the early hours of the morning, unsure where the roads would take you. How could you know? You were never allowed off of the property of the clubhouse unless it was for work or if he was with you. After months of slowly saving up money from your job, you had enough to finally get out.  
Two years. Two long years you had been in that damned club. 
Two years since you had lost the only family you had left. 
The road seemed to have stretched on for miles. You wanted to get out of the territory of the club and at least a few towns over. But you needed to stop, you were getting tired. The sun was beginning to set.  
The sun had gone down when you had finally found a place to stay. An old motel right off the road right before an intersection. The sign by the road read ‘Maximoff’s Motel’ in big red painted letters. The open sign out front had flickered slightly as you pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. 
The boy behind the counter eyed you suspiciously. He looked you up and down a few times. You eyed him back. He was small but lean; his bleached hair looked almost silver under the lights. He looked young, too young to be running a motel alone late at night. 
 “How can I help you, ma’am?” He finally spoke after looking at you so intensely. 
His Eastern European accent shocked you a bit. You were used to the country and southern accents and the dialog that came from your old club that made you think that they were uneducated. Most of them probably were. 
“One room, just for the night,” Your voice came out harsh from not speeching all day. You grunted a ‘please’ at the end. 
He asked if you wanted a single or double bed, to which you replied with single. Your voice still sounded harsh as if you were crying. Which you had been hours ago when you first left. 
He handed you a room key after you paid him for the night. You thanked him and he nodded in reply. He was pressing numbers on an old telephone as soon as you turned around to find your room.  
You were unable to sleep. The fear of him finding you and dragging you back prevented you from sleeping for more than about three hours. 
He would not have noticed that you were gone until he got back from work a little after 4 PM. Even then, he usually did not come to find you until later in the night when he wanted physical intimacy from you. Only then would he notice that your motorcycle was gone. That had given you enough time after he left in the morning to get as far as possible without leaving any clues in which direction you had gone in. 
He would not send the entire gang to go find you. He would have done it himself. But he only had so much time outside of the club.  
You finally turned over to look at the time on the analog clock after refusing to look when you first awoke. 5:47 AM. After groaning and changing into the only other change of clothes you brought, you left to go back to the check-in. 
 There was someone else behind the counter this time. A young woman with auburn hair now sat in the boy's place. She looked roughly the same age as the boy, maybe younger. She looked more lively than the boy looked last night. You did not blame him though considering how late it was. 
She greeted you with a friendly hello in the same Eastern European accent and asked if you needed anything. You asked for another night in your room, in which she happily allowed after you placed the cash on the counter. After some hesitation, you asked her where the nearest town was to find a job. 
You must have caught her by surprise because she blinked a few times before answering, “Turn left at the intersection. There’s a small town about 5 minutes down the road. The diner is still requesting help.” 
You thanked her kindly. Her face seemed to have softened before replying with a you’re welcome and a sweet smile.
True to the young woman’s words the diner had been looking for hires. The older waitress who you had talked to looked wearily at you. Everyone in the diner had seen you roll in on your motorcycle. Hell, the entire town had seen you come in. 
You must have looked desperate because the woman had given you the job and uniform and asked you to come in the next day. 
You were unable to sleep again that night. Whether it was the jitters to have to start a new job or the fact that he could have caught up to you by now, you were unsure. 
The clock beside you told you that it was a little after five in the morning. You were not going to get any more sleep and you had to be at the diner at six. 
You relished under the hot water in the shower for a long time. The water at the clubhouse was always cold and the men never seemed to have minded. You never had time to enjoy showers anyways, you did not trust the men in the club when you were most vulnerable. 
You rushed to get ready, unaware of how much time you had accidentally spent in the shower. 
Stopping by the check-in again, both the young woman and the young man were there. They had been conversing with one another before you had stepped in. You asked for another night and you thanked the girl again for recommending the diner. 
She beamed at you and the man’s facial expression seemed to have softened when he saw the look on her face. 
Working at the diner was not too hard. You had worked at a bar when you were back at the club; bartending was not too different from waitressing. Most of the customers were elderly and did not seem to have minded if you made a mistake with their order. Despite this, they still tipped you well, which you greatly appreciated. While you for thankful for the job, it was not the best pay. 
You had been working at the diner for about a week. You rode in on your motorcycle every morning and returned to the motel every night. The routine made you forget what you were running away from. It had not bothered you because you knew that he would have caught up to you by now.
Instead of asking for another night every morning you had asked for another week at the motel, paying with the tips you saved up from the week before. The young woman gave you a deal since you were planning on staying for a while. You thanked her endlessly and she gave you another one of her bright smiles. 
It was suspected to be like any other day at the diner: clock in, prepare for the day, take orders, and do your job. What you had not expected was the man that rolled into the diner with a scowl.  
“Who’s bike is outside?” His voice roared over the quiet chatter of the customers, silencing them all. 
You turned around and were met with a gruff-looking man. His bright blue eyes swept over the diner, undoubtedly looking for someone.  
“Mine.” You answered. You knew by now that you were the only person who owned a motorcycle on that side of town. 
His eyes stopped on you. The scowl on his face disappeared. You knew you were not who he was expecting. He stalked up to the counter you were standing behind. He asked in a softer tone this time. “You in a club, sweetheart?”  
You frowned. That was not the type of question you were expecting. Hell, you were not sure what you were expecting when he came in and started yelling about your motorcycle. And the use of a nickname at the end made you frown deeper. 
“Not anymore.” You replied truthfully with a frown still adorned on your face. 
“And why is that?” He asked, leaning forward on the counter and frowning as well. 
Another question. “I got out.” He gave you a weird look, “For a good reason.”
“What’s a good reason, huh?” 
His continuous questions were starting to piss you off. He had no business to ask you these questions in the first place. It was not a topic that you wanted to discuss with anyone. Let alone a stranger. You were trying to forget your past and the man at the counter in front of you, who you still have yet to learn the name of, would not leave you alone. 
“Do you consider kidnapping me and killing my sister a good enough reason?” You answered in a low tone, but the anger in your voice was evident. 
His eyes widened and he leaned off the counter. He was silent for a moment, thinking before speaking. 
“Shit, honey I’m sorry.”  
He looked genuinely sorry. It took you by surprise. He backed off and walked out without looking back at anyone. 
You ignored the nickname and watched him leave. There was a motorcycle parked next to yours. You watch him as he swung his leg over it and rolled out of the parking lot. 
Your manager who had watched the entire encounter told you to have the rest of the day off after that.
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