#police magistrate

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Low kept complaining.

Mr Uhr, the Police Magistrate, has been distinguishing himself again. On Friday, the 20th August, at Peter Cardley's "Royal Hotel" he was drunk & struck an old gentleman, a Mr Henry, one of the pioneers & founders of Cloncurry, cutting his eye open; he then issued challenges to anyone in the room to take Mr Henry's part. He afterwards harangued the mob on the subject of the impartiality of his decisions from the bench, saying, "that we would all be sorry when poor old Uhr was gone."

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

[tenth-sentence]

The two men played billiards together together for a week, waiting for a hearing before three magistrates to decide whether Harris should stand trial.

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

[lifewithaview]

Jean-Louis Trintignant in Z (1969)

Dir.Costa-Gavras

In a mid-sized metropolis (population 500,000) in a right-wing military led country, a pacifist organization, which supports the opposition party in the government, is planning on holding an anti-military, nuclear disarmament rally. The organization's charismatic leader - the deputy - is scheduled to arrive in the town from the capital the day of the rally. Beyond the problems arranging the rally due to the probable incitement of violence at such a rally, the organization learns of an unconfirmed report that there will be an attempt on the deputy's life. The rally does happen, after which a three-wheeled kamikaze runs over the deputy, who eventually passes away from his injuries. The official report is that the incident was a drunken accident. In reality, the deputy's death was murder orchestrated by the secret police, the general for who likens the pacifist organization to mildew killing off agricultural crops. A magistrate is assigned to the case. Although he does have political views, he is more interested in finding out the truth, and as such has to wade through the political rhetoric and politically motivated testimony he hears. Thrown into the mix is a photojournalist who too is looking for the truth, as it, he believes, will make a great front page story.

*The first film to be nominated by the Academy for Best Film and Best Foreign Language Film.

[garochetarkinslicersimlish]

[planetearthtradefederation]

NEURALS NEURAL NETWORKS NEURAL NETWORK

[townpostin]

Accused in Ganja Smuggling Case Arrested After Three Months

Kowali police apprehended Chandrashekhar Patra, who had been absconding for three months in a ganja smuggling case. In a significant development, Kowali police arrested Chandrashekhar Patra, an accused in a ganja smuggling case, on Sunday. Patra had been on the run for three months following an incident of illegal ganja recovery and sale JAMSHEDPUR – Kowali police apprehended Chandrashekhar…

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Un faussaire est envoyé au pénitencier," Le Soleil. May 8, 1943. Page 19. --- Chicoutimi - (D.N.C.) - Le juge Boivin a présidé un terme de la Cour du Magistrat et a prononce plusieurs condamnations variant entre un et six mois de prison pour vol et a également infligé des amendes considérables pour des infractions aux règlements de la Commission des Prix et du Commerce en temps de guerre.

M. le juge Boivin a condamné un étranger du nom de Joseph Rioux à trois ans de pénitencier pour obtention d'argent sous de faux prétexte. L'enquête dans cette affaire avait été conduite par la Sûreté Provinciale de Chicoutimi, qui retraça enfin le faussaire qui avait fait onze victimes. A la suite de nombreuses plaintes pour faux et emploi de faux documents dans le district de Chicoutimi, le constable Eudore Ouellet, officier de la patrouille de Chicoutimi, partit le 5 avril, d'après ce qui a été révélé à la Cour, pour se rendre à Sacré-Coeur, près de Tadoussac, où le faussaire était supposé se cacher sous le nom de Joseph Rioux.

Agissant sous les ordres du sergent Emile Moffet, l'agent Allard fit 150 milles de voiture dans des conditions plutôt difficiles, à cause de la tempète. Il courut le risque de traverser le Saguenay, de St- Etienne à Sacré-Coeur, à travers les glaces, dans un simple canot de toile. A Sacré-Coeur, les informations qu'il recueillit eurent pour effet de le conduire jusqu'à l'Anse Creuse, à plusieurs milles dans le bois, où il se rendit en raquettes jusqu'au camp du faussaire. En entrant dans le camp, le constable Allard se trouva tout à coup en face d'un homme solide recherché par la Sûreté Provinciale de Québec depuis deux ans, Allard ne prit pas de chance avec l'individu et l'arrêta à la pointe du revolver et lui passa les menottes.

Comme il a été révélé à la Cour. Rioux vivait dans la région depuis environ un an et se cachait dans les environs de Sacré-Coeur. De temps à autre, il se promettait un petit voyage à St-Fulgence, St-Felix-d'Otis, St-Etienne, Anse-St-Jean et aux alentours et se faisait passer pour l'acheteur de bois d'une grande compagnie de Québec. Si on lui vendait du bois il payait avec un chèque qu’il signait Joseph Rioux.

Le 27 avril, Rioux comparaissait devant M. le juge Boivin pour répondre à trois chefs d'accusation pour faux. L'accusé plaida coupable et fut condamné à 23 mois de prison. Le lendemain le prévenu comparaissait de nouveau devant le juge Boivin pour répondre à huit autres accusations de faux et emploi de faux documents. Il plaida également coupable et le juge le condamna à trois ans de pénitencier.

Le 30 avril. le sergent Emile Moffet transféra le prisonnier à Québec et le 1er mai, il comparais sait, sous le nom d'Alphonse Ouellet, devant le juge Laetare Roy à Québec pour répondre à l'accusation de faux et emploi de faux documents.

Le juge, ayant été mis au courant des condamnations antérieures reçues à Chicoutimi et considérant le passé de l'accusé qui avait déjà "pensionné" à plusieurs reprises au pénitencier, l'envoya au bagne pour un autre quinze ans.

Alphonse Ouellet, surnommé "Chapeau Blanc", s'était surtout servi, comme alias, des noms de Joseph Rioux. Jean-Baptiste LeBlanc. Jean Gauthier. Colon Ouellet, Léo Bernier, Léo Heppel, téo Bélanger. Léo Mathieu. David Thibault, Bob Thériault et quelques autres,

[truetellsnigeria1]

Naira Marley, Sam Larry Sue Magistrate, Police, Demand N40m Over Mohbad Death

Popular Nigerian singer, Abdulazeez Fashola, professionally known as Naira Marley, and Lagos socialite, Samson Eletu, also known as Sam Larry have filed a fundamental rights suit to challenge their continued detention over the death of 27-year-old singer, Ilerioluwa Aloba, also known as Mohbad. Naira Marley and Sam Larry joined the police and the Lagos magistrate, Adeola Olatunbosun, who ordered…

[uttarakhand-jagran]

विधानसभा अध्यक्ष ने पंचम विधानसभा के मानसून सत्र को लेकर पुलिस प्रशासन एवं विभागों के अधिकारियों के साथ बैठक,समय से नहीं पहुंचने वाले अधिकारियों को लगाई फटकार

देहरादून  : 05 सितंबर से शुरू हो रहे पंचम विधानसभा के मानसून सत्र की सुरक्षा व्यवस्था को लेकर उत्तराखंड विधानसभा अध्यक्ष ऋतु खण्डूडी भूषण ने आज विधान सभा भवन में शासन, पुलिस प्रशासन एवं विभागों के उच्च अधिकारियों के साथ बैठक की। उन्होंने विधानसभा सचिवालय और पुलिस विभाग के अधिकारियों को सुरक्षा व्यवस्था पूरी तरह से चाकचौबंद रखने के निर्देश दिए। उन्होंने सत्र के दौरान आवश्यक व्यवस्थाओं को भी जल्द…

[lipid]

Protests and memorials in honor of the first and only openly nonbinary Mexican magistrate, Jesús Ociel Baena Saucedo, in CDMX, Aguascalientes and Mexicali.

Ociel advocated for laws protecting LGBT people, trans youth, equal marriage, gender identity recognition, between others. They inspired a lot of trans and gnc people in the country, being widely celebrated for their advocacy in court and for being open about their relationship with gender.

On the morning of November 13, 2023, Ociel was found murdered with their partner in their house. Police said they didn't have "enough proof" to consider it a homicide.

Justice for Ociel, for Karen, for Renata, for Paola, for Naomi, for Dayanne, for Ivonne, for Valeria, for every trans person murdered in this country and in the world.

[tenth-sentence]

On the night before the raid, the magistrate Arthur Halloran had ridden out to the camp to discuss the awkward rumours.

"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr

[srilanka1234]

https://www.srilankaweekly.co.uk/woman-threatened-by-met-police-officer-in-road-rage-incident/

A Metropolitan Police officer has been found guilty of threatening a woman driver in a road rage incident in Wandsworth.

[nikidontsurf]

GEORGE HARRISON and PATTIE BOYD leave Kinfauns to go to the Walton and Esher Magistrates Court, March 18, 1969.

  She was at Kinfauns, their bungalow home in Esher, Surrey, playing genial hostess to a group of visitors from Scotland Yard’s drug squad. She recalled the events in her memoir Wonderful Tonight: ‘Suddenly I heard a lot of cars on the gravel in the drive – far too many for it to be just George. My first thought was that maybe Paul and Linda wanted to party after the wedding. Then the bell rang. I opened the door to find a policewoman and a dog standing outside. At that moment the back-doorbell rang and I thought, Oh, my God, this is so scary! I’m surrounded by police.

The man in charge introduced himself as Detective Sergeant Pilcher, from Scotland Yard, and handed me a piece of paper. I knew why he was there: he thought we had drugs, and he said he was going to search the house. In they came, about eight policemen through the front, another five or six through the back and there were more in the greenhouse. The policewoman said she would follow me while the others searched and didn’t let me out of her sight. I said, ‘Why are you doing this? We don’t have any drugs. I’m going to phone my husband.’ I rang George at Apple. ‘George, it’s your worst nightmare. Come home.’

The officers clearly thought the Harrisons would be at Paul’s wedding. The timing was not a coincidence. (...) Pilcher had already busted Mick Jagger, Brian Jones and Donovan, as well as Lennon and Yoko the previous year. National treasures or not, The Beatles were no longer protected from the law. - ‘And in the End: The Last Days of The Beatles’ Ken McNab

  I was with George in the office when that call came through. It was the end of a long day at Apple. Pattie rang and said, ‘They’re here – the law is here,’ and we knew what to do by then. We phoned Release’s lawyer, Martin Polden. We had a routine: he came round to Apple, and we all went down by limousine to Esher, where the police were well ensconced by then – and I stood bail for George and Pattie. They went off to the police station. We were all extremely indignant because it was the day of Paul’s wedding, a poor way to celebrate it. The police can be so nice.

George was calm about it. George is always calm – he sometimes gets a grump, but he’s always calm – and he was extremely calm that night, and very, very indignant. He went into the house and looked around at all these men and one woman, and said something like. ‘Birds have nests and animals have holes, but man has nowhere to lay his head.’ – ‘Oh, really, sir? Sorry to tell you we have to…’ and then into the police routine.

That’s how calm and how cross he was, because, as he said, he kept his dope in the box where dope went, and his joss sticks went in the joss stick box. He was a man who ran an orderly late-Sixties household, with beautiful things and some nice stuff to smoke.

 In my opinion he didn’t have to be busted because he was doing nobody any harm. I still believe what they did was an intrusion into personal life. - Derek Taylor in ‘The Beatles Anthology’

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Seven)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

When you arrived at the station, the police officers gave you an opportunity to explain yourself and, even though they couldn't do much about your situation, they offered to let you go.

"Who can we call to pick you up?" they asked after advising you to call your solicitor the day after to explain what you had already explained to them. They were going to have to file a violation report and, if your solicitor did not appeal, a magistrate would most likely order for your house arrest to be extended.

"I-I'll call my stepfather," you stammered, your voice shaky with the realization that yet again, your actions had consequences which affected not only yourself but Cillian too.

"No, we will call him. What's his name and number?" 

one of the officers asked you as you sat nervously in the waiting area, your heart racing with anxiety.

"Cillian Murphy," you replied while fidgeting with your phone to read out his number.

"Cillian Murphy?" one of the officers asked, chuckling loudly. "Seriously?"  the other officer chimed in, also looking surprised. "The Cillian Murphy? The actor?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance at their reaction. You weren't used to this kind of attention and you certainly didn't want it now, when you were in the middle of a mess.

One of the officers quickly made the call, explaining the situation to Cillian in a calm, official tone. After a few moments, he told you that your stepfather would be there shortly to pick you up.

You nodded, grateful for their help, even though you were still shaking with apprehension about what was to come. 

Cillian arrived a short while later, his face etched with worry as he rushed up to you.

"Y/N, what happened?" he asked urgently, taking in the scene inside the station without any kind of judgment from his part. 

"It's a long story," you replied, exhaustion written all over your face. "I'll explain it all when we get home."

"Alright," he responded quietly before asking the officers whether he needed to do or sign anything and they shook their heads and informed him that he was free to take you home.

After a brief nod, Cillian guided you outside where the cool evening air enveloped you. The sky was a deep shade of blue with flecks of orange and pink from the still-visible sunset. It was a picture-perfect scene that would have been a joy to take a photograph of, but given the night's events, not even the beauty of creation could tame the whirlwind of emotions surging inside you.

"You are so lucky that your mother isn't home," Cillian murmured, opening the car door for you.

You nodded silently, climbing in and closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed you.

As he settled in behind the wheel and started the car, the silence between you was deafening. The weight of what had happened hung heavy in the air, and neither of you knew where to begin.

Cillian was the first to break the silence. "Y/N, what happened back there?" he said gently.

You took a deep breath, recalling what had transpired earlier that evening at the hostel.

You told Cillian everything, starting from your call with Nadine, to finding out about Lucy's involvement, and ending with your decision to confront her despite knowing the consequences of leaving your designated area.

Cillian listened intently, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter with every word you said. By the time you finished, his expression was a mixture of shock and anger. "That explains a lot," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. "And we need to get in touch with your solicitor tomorrow to get this sorted out," he added, switching gears as he drove you home.

Your heart sank at the thought of what this all meant - the possibility of an extended house arrest or even a harsher sentence. But you found comfort in the fact that you had Cillian by your side, supportive and understanding, even when your mother would have been furious.

"Can we not tell mum about this?" you  asked hesitantly, not wanting to deal with the added stress of her disappointment.

Cillian glanced over at you, his eyes softening as he took in your nervous expression. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied gently.

You nodded, relieved but still worried. 

"Thanks again, for picking me up and for not being angry," you said, turning to face Cillian who pulled into the driveway and, after he parked the car, he smiled at you reassuringly. "I wont lie, I am a bit angry, but not at you, but rather at your friend. She clearly wronged you," he said, his voice filled with compassion.

You sighed deeply. "I know, I am so angry too. I can't believe she would do something like this," you said, still troubled by the turn of events. "I feel so betrayed."

Cillian looked over at you, his heart ached at the pain and sadness etched on your face. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, reaching out to comfort you. "Let's go inside, have a glass of wine, and talk about it," he offered  , trying to lighten the mood.

You silently nodded and got out of the car, heading towards the front door. The cold evening air did nothing to quell the turmoil burning inside of you.

"Come on, let's sit," Cillian said, his voice unusually gentle as he helped you out of your jacket.

You then let yourself be led to the couch, still in disbelief over the night's events.

Cillian poured a generous glass of red wine for each of you and then sat down next to you. You took a large gulp, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

"I am such a fucking idiot," you then muttered, sitting back on the couch and running a hand through your hair.

Cillian placed a hand gently on your knee, holding it there as he looked intently into your eyes.

"Y/N, it's okay. You didn't really do anything wrong. You just acted hotheadedly and we all do that sometimes," he said, his voice gentle as you started to sob , trembling with the release of all the anger and frustration pent up in you.

"I know, but I just can't have my house arrest extended. I am starting my photography course in New York soon and...fuck...this is all just too much," you  blurted out, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes.

Cillian didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at you with a deep understanding, a look that pierced right through you, seeing you for who you truly are - vulnerable, scared, and utterly alone.

Without a word, he caressed your face and wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

"Hey, look at me," he then said,  making you meet his intense gaze. "It's going to be okay. We will make sure of it."

You looked at him, your eyes glistening with tears. "How?"

'Well, we will get your lawyer to get the charges dropped so that you can still go to New York and if he can't do that, I will smuggle you out of the country," Cillian said, only half-joking.

His words caught your attention and a smile appeared in your trembling lips. "You will smuggle me out of the country?" you chuckled through teary eyes.

Cillian laughed at the absurdity of it but then leaned in towards your face, his eyes locked with yours. " Yes, I will smuggle you through the airport and on to the plane," he whispered jokingly, still caressing your face.

"Now you are being an idiot," you replied with a soft laugh, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his closeness.

He leaned in a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Am I?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You swallowed hard, feeling a heat building up in your center as you looked at him. "Yes," you giggled quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "A beautiful and kind and somewhat sexy idiot," you gasped at your own admission, causing Cillian to exhale a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in closer, invading your space while still caressing your cheeks as, suddenly, he crashed his lips against yours, driving you back into the sofa.

Your hands reached for the back of his head, clutching his hair tight and pulling him closer.

Cillian groaned, deepening the kiss as his tongue traced the creases of your lips before delving inside. His other hand went up to you, cupping your cheek before it slipped behind your head, cradling it as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

A moan escaped you, sending a hot wave of desire coursing through you as he dominated your mouth.

You met his every move with fervent passion, the taste of coppery wine on his tongue as it danced with yours.

Your hands roamed his back, gripping at his shirt, frustratingly unable to reach the skin beneath as you both gave in to your desires like two wild animals.

The raw chemistry between you two spurred out of control. Your mind was fuzzy, and all your senses were heightened, focusing entirely on Cillian's touch.

He slid his hand down your side, resting it heavily on your hip before grabbing a chunk of fabric, pulling at it feverishly. Impatiently, you broke the kiss, your breath hitching as he scattered desperate kisses along the curve of your neck, growling at the contact.

"What are we doing Cillian?" you eventually moaned as he trailed fiery kisses from your collarbone to your heaving chest.

"Do you want to stop?" he  asked, his breath possibly howling around your neck, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, lustrous and sharp with hunger.

You looked back at him, met his gaze, and without a word, you tossed your head.

"Good," he said, and his mouth covered yours once again, sucking your lips aggressively, slipping his tongue into the openings, wrapping his arms around you, and twining his fingers in the hair at the back of your head.

His touch was fierce and all-consuming, and you couldn't help but melt beneath it. Your mind reeled and swarmed with a potent mix of naughty curiosity and lust.

Almost breathlessly, you agreed, "I want you, Cillian. I want you so fucking much!" 

His eyes burned as he pinned you to the couch beneath him. "Then take your clothes off," he demanded harshly.

You didn't protest one bit; instead, you sat up and obeyed, tearing off your t-shirt over your head.

Cillian's hungry gaze followed your every move as you did so, his pulse quickening at the sight of your bare breasts.

Without hesitation, you quickly shrugged out of your jeans, but leaving on your panties, your heart hammering against your rib cage in anticipation. Cillian swallowed heavily as he watched you, his own desire burning hot and wild.

You lay back down on the couch, your limbs splayed and trembling, as Cillian finally shed his own clothes, revealing his toned but lean physique.

"Oh my god, you have so many freckles," you whispered, feeling your mouth go dry. He was unlike any guy you had ever met and, even despite him being more than twice your age, you found him incredibly irresistible.

His greying chest-hair and  the tiny wrinkles around his eyes did nothing to detract from his sex-appeal, instead making you only hungrier for him.

Cillian crawled over to you, placing his hands on either side of your head, his eyes burning holes into you. His body hovered above yours, casting a thick shadow over you. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in between your legs as he smirked down at you, that handsome face twisting with raw desire.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he murmured, brushing a few loose strands of hair off your forehead . You could feel the heat of his breath on your cheeks, and your lips parted involuntarily at the sound of his voice.

He leaned in, his warm lips claiming yours in a passionate kiss while you caressed one another.

Much to your surprise, your hands exploration of his body came more natural than you could ever imagine as if you had been doing this forever.

He moved slower with you, savoring every moment of the game, playing lightly with your sensitive lips and pressing into you as you opened up to him.

His hands roamed down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips and the perfect swell of your breasts. His fingertips moved over your nipples, then plucked and teased them until reaching your navel, moving back up to you with his thumb caressing that spot. Your underwear barely covered anything as he slipped his fingers beneath it, moving up to your mound.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his palm rubbed at your clitoris, and his fingers slipped inside your entrance.

"Oh my god,"  you groaned as sensations took over. Your body writhed in pleasure as he began to pump into you with ease, your wetness covering his hand. He wasn't desperate, but precise, stimulating you in a way no one else had done before. 

"Fuck, just feel how wet you make me," you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and heavy. 

"Oh I can feel it, trust me," Cillian groaned. "You are soaking," he mumbled against your lips, his fingers slipping in and out of you in a slow, steady fashion, his thumb still applying consistent pressure to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the feel of him, the way his expertise were driving you so close to the edge. And just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy shudder through your body, he pulled his hand away leaving you gasping for breath and craving for more.

"Cillian, don't stop," you pleaded.

He gave you a mischievous smile as he moved down your body, trailing hot kisses along the way. His stubble tickled you, sending shivers running up and down your spine.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, his voice hoarse and hungry.

You gasped when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. He threw them to the side, and your bare sex was exposed to him.

Cillian groaned at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Like what you see?" you asked provocatively as you looked down on him, running the tip of your tongue tenderly over your swollen bottom lip.

"Very much so ," Cillian growled in response, as he moved further down between your legs. Your thighs shook involuntarily at the touch of his breath upon your labia.

He parted your lips with his fingers, exposing your clitoris to him. You looked down on him, anticipation and hunger in your gaze. His tongue flicked across your nub, gentle and seeking, and you struggled not to scream in pleasure.

"Oh God, yes," you stammered out as he continued his assault upon your sex.

You hadn't expected him to go down on you, but once he started, you realized how badly you wanted it.

He teased you, gently at first, circling his tongue around your clit, just barely touching you. His talented tongue danced and swirled over your sensitive area, ratcheting up the pressure in an agonizing, glorious crescendo.

You felt his other hand slip around your leg, his fingertips trailing a blazing path up your thigh as he pulled you closer to his face.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his mouth, and you squirmed as anticipation coursed through your veins.

Cillian's tongue lashed at your clitoris with more intent now, lapping at your engorged nub with a rhythmic hunger that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your legs jerked involuntarily, and he held you firmly in place.

He parted your lips further with his fingers, slipping his tongue deeper into the recesses of your sex.

He tasted you, teased you, drove you wild, and sent you over the edge. You writhed and bucked below him, your hands clutching at the fabric of the couch as his tongue plunged into you again and again.

The pressure building inside you reached its boiling point, and you cried out as your orgasm tore through you with a strength that seemed to shatter all barriers between your minds and bodies. Your vision blacked out, and for a moment, you were floating, lost in the sea of pleasure he had created within you.

It wasn't the first time you climaxed, but it had never felt like this before, so intensely and powerfully.

Cillian held you through it, his tongue making slow, soft strokes against your sensitive skin. You whimpered at the sensation, all your muscles rigid with the force still coursing through your veins.

When you finally came down, you were shaking and trembling, clutching at the couch as if it were the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

"Fuck, that was insane," you gasped as Cillian's mouth continued its slow, gentle laps at your clitoris, soothing you through the aftershocks of your climax before, after a while, he eased himself up your body. "I don't think I ever came that hard before! Jesus!" you cursed. 

After you finished swearing, Cillian kissed you deeply, letting you taste your own pleasure on his lips, and you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, overwhelmed by the taste of yourself, by the intensity of your connection.

His erection pressed into your thigh, and you found yourself rubbing against him, desperate for more.

"I want you inside of me so fucking much, you have no idea," you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt him hard against your leg.

"Yeah?" he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as his hand slipped between you, his fingers once again slipping inside of you.

You cried out in pleasure, nodding your head and pushing your hips against his hand, urging him on.

"I need your cock inside me, right fucking now Cillian, please," you demanded, wrapping your legs around his waist while pulling on the fabric of his briefs.

"I don't have a condom Y/N," Cillian struggled to reason, his voice creaking with weakness under the barrage of your desires.

But you didn't give a fuck about anything but relieving the burning desire between your legs.

"Please, Cillian. Don't worry about it and just do it," you whimpered, helplessly clinging to his arm with your nails, as you begged him to take you, to drive inside you.

Seeing your determination, Cillian couldn't resist any longer. With a groan, he pushed down his briefs and pulled out his hard, throbbing shaft.

It was thick and long, and the tip was already wet with pre-cum. You looked down on it and couldn't believe that this was happening, that you were about to have sex with your stepfather and he looked goddamn perfect.

Cillian moved between your legs, spreading them a bit wider as he grabbed his shaft, guiding it to your entrance. He pressed the tip against your slick folds, his jaw clenching with every passing second as he, again, wrestled with himself and his guilt. 

You felt your legs shaking against his sides, a pleading cry escaping your lips.

"Please, Cillian. I need you to fuck me," you begged, rocking your hips up to meet him, causing him to push his invasive thoughts of guilt aside.

But instead of taking you right away, he moved his shaft down to your entrance and began to rub its head around the rim, collecting the wetness there before he pushed in slowly. He ducked his head to kiss you, his tongue plunging into your mouth with the same torturous slowness that his thick cock easing inside of you.

The feeling was incredible, the stretch of your tight pussy around his length made both of you groan in bliss, and your nails dug into his firm ass as you pulled him closer. Inch by inch his manhood filled and stretched you. You felt every twitch and throb of his erection deep inside you, causing your channel to clench involuntarily, which drove him wild.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so tight," he muttered as he broke the kiss, unable to contain how good you felt.  Cillian leveraged himself up onto his elbows, using every ounce of self-control he had not to lose himself in you in that very moment. He hadn't had sex for almost three years and being with you was almost too much to bear.

"I feel so full," you whispered, wrapping your legs around his hips, urging him deeper inside of you.

Cillian's face darkened with hunger as he pulled his hips back and sank even deeper into you, causing you to cry out loudly.

"Fuck," he muttered, unable to hold back a groan at the unbelievable feeling of being inside you.

He repeated this motion several times, pulling out a few inches before plunging himself back into you.

Each stroke stretched and massaged your sensitive walls. You were loving every moment of it, quivering with a building, unrelenting pleasure—a pleasure that begged for more.

You clawed at his arms, urging him on as he moved faster and deeper. You were incoherent now, barely able to form words as his pace quickened.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you to meet each thrust. Your breasts bounced enticingly as gravity played its part. The sensation between you both grew incredibly intense.

"Oh, oh, yes, Cillian," you managed to say, your legs gripping tighter around him as your pleasure heightened.

You knew you weren't going to last and neither was he. As you felt each thrust, your eyes rolled back into your head.

Cillian adjusted his angle and hit the right spot causing you to gasp loudly.

"Fuck, that's the spot!" you exclaimed.

A slight sheen of sweat formed on both of your skin as your bodies melded together, your hips rising to meet each desperate pounding thrust.

"Cillian, don't stop, please, don't stop," you pleaded, the words barely coherent coherent as Cillian's tempo increased.

Your body begged for reprieve, aching for release from this earth-shattering pleasure. Yet, at the same time craved for it to last longer, for this moment to never end.

You could feel Cillian's breath panting heavily against your neck. The heat from it branded your skin as his pace quickened, driving himself into you with a wild urgency until you exploded once again.

"Oh my god!" you cried out as the climax tore through you, ripping away all control and thought as you writhed beneath him, eyes rolling back and legs tightening around him.

Your orgasm was a blinding flash of pure pleasure, a devastating force that swept you away in its current. Cillian couldn't last much longer. As your pussy clenched around him during your climax, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort not to cum too soon.

But he fought against it, needing to prolong this moment just a little bit longer. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside of you, of hearing the way you moaned his name and seeing the pleasure written all over your face.

After a while, you started to slow down, your body spending a few moments catching up with your exhilarated senses. As your still-throbbing sex eased around his shaft, Cillian felt the pressure in his balls build to an almost uncomfortable degree.

With a final, desperate moan, he buried his face in your neck and gave in.

The first spurts of his release jetted deep inside of you, splashing against your cervix, the warmth of his load filling you completely. You relished in the feeling of him coming hard, his own release triggering another small orgasm inside of you, the combination of his warm seed mixing with the contractions of your pussy brought you to a peak yet again, a last wave that sent you crashing down.

Cillian's hips jerked erratically beneath you, and he groaned your name as he continued to pump every last drop of himself inside of you.

Your walls contracted around his shaft again and again as you whimpered with each pulsating wave of your orgasm.

Cillian held still for a few seconds before slumping over you, still buried deep inside your warm welcoming embrace. Your breaths came out in short pants as his did the same, leaving him with a few shudders and aftershocks as he caught his breath.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," Cillian managed to say after a while, his head still buried in your neck. "That was...that was..."

He couldn't seem to find the words, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Intense," you suggested, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Cillian chuckled at that and blew out a long, slow breath. "Yeah, that."

The weight of his body upon yours felt anything but unpleasant; you found yourself wrapping your arms around him tighter, delighting in the feeling of his warm skin against yours which is when guilt consumed him once more.

"Fuck," he cursed again before slowly pulling out, then extracting himself from your grasp and your body, standing up on the plush carpet that lay between the couch and the fireplace, watching as your limbs dangled over the edge of it like a rag doll's.

"We shouldn't have done that," he muttered mostly to himself but loud enough that you heard him, just as he noticed that you'd opened your eyes to peer up at him from under heavy lids. "Fucking hell, what is wrong with me?"  Cillian mumbled to himself as he stood naked in the vast living room of his home, the air heavy with the scent of his own arousal.

He had been unable to deny that fire burning deep within him any longer. That forbidden connection with you, his stepdaughter, had grown too intense to ignore.

The way your lips had parted as he ravaged your body... the sounds you had made as your sweet body responded to his every touch...the sighs, groans, cries, and whispers that escaped your lips... the way your legs had trembled, then wrapped around him, your heels digging into his backside as you urged him on... all of it had driven him to the brink of madness.

And now, as he looked down on you sprawled out on the couch, a deep sense of shame and betrayal filled him.

"Please don't do this," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you slowly sat up and pulled a throw over your naked body. 

You looked at Cillian, pleading for him to see things from your perspective, too. You understood the gravity of what you had just done, but you also couldn't deny the powerful connection that you felt.

"I need to go," he muttered, turning away and gathering up his clothes from the floor before disappearing upstairs to get dressed in private.

"Fine," you sighed as you slowly got up from the couch, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and wrapped yourself in the blanket. "Just walk away then. It seems to be a common occurrence in this fucking house," you hissed, the words sharp and filled with anger as Cillian walked off to collect his thoughts. 

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[townpostin]

Jamshedpur Judicial Magistrate Transferred Amid Serious Allegations

Transfer Orders Issued by Jharkhand High Court Judicial Magistrate N Kumar, facing serious allegations including rape and harassment, has been transferred to Godda. Jamshedpur – Judicial Magistrate N Kumar, who faces severe allegations including rape and harassment, has been transferred to Godda. The transfer order was issued on Wednesday by Jharkhand High Court Registrar General Mohammad…

[toji-bunny-girl]

Always wondered what happens after a darling successfully escapes their yandere. Will they meet a new person and fall in love? Will they continue living in the aftermath of being kidnapped and traumatised? If so, how would they navigate their life with their disturbing past?

And what happens if the yandere managed to catch their darling back for the second time?

It’s been more than 2 years since you escaped from Bakugou, and you’re living a fresh life away from him. You don’t report him to the authorities because you know the corrupted system would wound you up back under his chain. So, you’d rather keep your mouth shut and move to some obscure countryside far, far away from him and the city.

There, you found a halcyon lifestyle and an honest man who cherished you more than anything. You had gotten engaged with him within a year of seeing each other and you thought life was finally falling into place. Until it didn’t.

You had no one to blame, really. It was as if God was playing an abhorrent joke on you. Who knew pro hero Dynamite would be going undercover in the diminutive town of Motosu for an on-the-run supervillain?

Who knew he would be staying at the exact inn you’re working at? 

Bakugou had always known that you were out there somewhere, he could feel his cells insisting you were missing and alive—hiding in the tenebrous cracks of the world. And one day, he would find you and drag you out of whatever crap you’re hiding in.

Lucky him, he had caught a familiar figure trodding around the inn he was staying at over a runaway case. He couldn’t have gotten it wrong, right? The way those hips sway as she walks, how her neck is structured from behind, and her smell. So sweet, as ambrosial as some forbidden fruit.

And when she turned around a corner, he saw your exact features—that very face etched like a tattoo in the walls of his mind. He could never get that profile wrong; he could never get you wrong.

Bakugou doesn’t just sweep you off from this shitty town though. He waited and watched. Noted the usual route you take to go back home, ‘home’ where you would call it, with some bumpkin who managed to put a worthless ring on your finger.

Dynamite could've given you everything and anything. He could’ve given you the world—a million-dollar ring, a mansion, and his whole heart and soul just for you. And you settled for that?

It boils his blood in crimson ire—why couldn’t you just be good and love him? Just why? Why can’t you accept your fate with him, forever as your one? Why? Why? Why?

He’ll get you to answer him soon enough once he got everything prepared—paying for the local police and magistrate’s silence; no one would know and care about your disappearance then.

And he waits until you’re off your shift and traipses back home with your sore back and hips, you wouldn’t be worrying about them when he gets you back to your real home.

“How long has it been?” your pace slowed, ears twitching. “2 years? Or more?”

No.

No. 

No. This can’t be. 

Bakugou. 

Your thought doesn’t finish forming before you’re bolting away as hard as you can, it doesn’t matter if your legs are getting weaker and the world is on vertigo—you’ll die if you’re caught. You know this voice and it haunts you in every nightmare you have, and for once, you prayed and prayed and begged for this to be a dream.

Don’t take my life away again. 

At last, you knew you could never outrun him. But the adrenaline surging through your veins made you believe you could; only a little while until you’re home and you’ll get Takashi to call the cops. And you finally understood chemicals were mere illusions when your body is thrown forward, landing on the ground before Bakugou pins you down.

It’s been two years. And he’s bigger. Stronger. Your stomach drops into the endless abyss when your eyes catch his burning red, sweat and tears automatically roll down your face and your voice fails to crack out of your dry throat. The world feels like it’s ending and you’re finding death in front of you, again. 

“Please, please, don’t! Please, leave me alone! I’m sorry, please—” you saw his face; a serpent with a satisfied hiss, tail locking its prey immobile, and you understood there was no way you could ever gain back your freedom. “Please, god! Please, don’t do this to me!”

“Oi,” so chilly, as if the alphabet of his word were stabbing your eardrums. “I’ll kill him if you don’t be good.”

This time with a life’s threat, you knew you’d forever be in hell—dead or alive.

୨ yandere series ୧

yandere!katsuki﹛ⅰ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅱ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅲ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅳ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅴ﹜

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