#the prime of his youth

[weatherman667]

Tragedy

AO3 is on the fritz when I’m trying to upload.

THE FANFIC MUST BE POSTED!

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Movie!Tails 🤝 Nine

Getting all 😳😊 when Sonic says that he considers them a friend

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Is Lloyd going to have his gothic sense of fashion as he gets older?

He still has shades of it he clings onto (mostly in the form of trinkets or accessories, though)

[kakusu-shipping]

Like an open book

It is 4:30am, my Air Conditioning unit sounds like a washing machine on full power, and it is simply impossible to sleep, so let’s write a Nook X Reader, hm?

Tom Nook X Island Rep/GN!Reader

In which you eat dirt

“I see you...innocently running in a great field...” 

“They respond right away this time...”

Another quiet day was slowly winding to a close outside Resident Services windows as Tom Nook relaxed back into his chair, stretching his paws over the desk.

Across from him, his peppy assistant Isabelle was taking the down time to catch up on some novel one of the residents had recommended to her. Just watching her expressions, Nook had picked up the plot considerably. It was a romance, never too steamy and hardly sweet, somewhere near the middle the main hunk had betrayed the story’s maiden in some major way, and now, three chapters to the end, he way dying.

Tom was never sure if he was just remarkable at reading faces, or if young Isabelle was just too easy to read. He’d wondered if he was once that expressive, wearing a story on his face and he walked naively through life.

Looking back, it was probably fine that he had, and would have been better if he’d continued to do so.

Movement outside the front window pulled Nook from memory lane; The Island Rep was whizzing through the main plaza, a to-go coffee from Brooster’s in one hand, a gift from one resident to another in the other.

Now that was youth, Tom thought to himself, acting to stretch as he stood and made way to get closer to the window. The rep had practically built this island with their own two hands, and now spent their time running from one corner to the next, filling the museum with every bug, fish, fossil, and painting they could get their hands on.

They were quiet the feat, weren’t they? So vibrant, goal oriented, and caring to the other residents. They didn’t complain about the ludicrous amount of work assigned to them. If Nook were a younger man, he might have helped share that burden more evenly, spent less time in the tent and more time in the grass pulling weeds, planting flowers, and picking fruit.

Tom was once again snapped from past regrets by swift movement out the window. Still hot coffee spilled across the brick of the square, seeping into a gift wrapped apology gift that would probably have to be returned to the sender.

The Island Rep lay face down in the center of the square, still and flat. No one else was around to see them trip and catch the ground with their face, only Nook, who stood frozen at the window.

“Mr. Nook? What happened?” Isabelle half closed her book and looked up, sensing the sudden stillness.

Tom didn’t answer, instead rushing as fast as his old but not quiet middle aged old joints were willing to let him go. Isabelle, who’d at most seen Nook pretend race walk after his boys, was reasonably startled by his hurry, and quickly followed him.

Outside, the Rep had finally recovered enough to start pushing themselves up on their hands. Tom stood by to offer assistance, a quiet “Are you okay?” on his lips, though overly concerned thoughts of bruised ribs and knocked out teeth ran through his head at mach speed. They didn’t have a doctor on the island, why didn’t they have a doctor on the island?

The Island Rep pushed themselves to their feet, smiling and waving off Nook, “I’m fine, I’m fine” They said, which was simply not true, as it normally isn’t when one catches themselves on rough stone chin first.

Tom was rather surprised Isabelle hadn’t shrieked loud enough to alarm the entire island.

The Rep’s chin was gashed, bleeding down on their shirt. The cut matched their smile, wide and red and prominently centered in the face. It was the kind of wound that’d probably need stitches, not something one should just walk away with.

Which they almost did, mind you.

The Rep laughed off their fall and thanked Nook for checking on them all while picking up the trashed to-go coffee cup and delivery. If the adrenaline from the fall had worn off, they sure didn’t show it, as they continued on about having to bring the gift back to it’s sender, the clothing inside completely ruined with coffee.

“m-Mayor...” Isabelle looked as though she might faint, which was a fair reaction to have to such a mess on their peaceful town, “Y-You-r.. Your ch-chin...”

The Rep, or as Isabelle may address them as a left over from their previous town together, The Mayor, began to reach up to their chin, a question on their face. Tom stepped in quicker than expected, pressing his personal pocket hankie to the wound instead. The Island Rep flinched at the pressure.

So they can feel pain. That’s a good sign, probably.

“Hold this here.” Tom Nook spoke in a tone that held no room for argument, as his rep did as they were told, pressing the cloth into their chin with enough force to stop the bleeding.

“Isabelle,” Nook addressed, the younger jumping to attention, finally taking her eyes off their mayor, “Can you handle resident services alone for a bit? I’m going to take the rep to the HHP island, they have a hospital there.”

The words of protest started on the rep’s lips, and were stopped dead in their tracks by a look from Tom. They swallowed, and looked anywhere by at Nook, shifting the cloth on their chin.

“O-Oh. Y-Yes I will be fine!” Isabelle stood to attention and saluted, eyes shut firmly in a fit of determination.

Tom nodded and placed a paw on his rep’s shoulder, turning them to the airport, “I’m counting on you. And please return this if you have a moment.” He spoke, handing Isabelle the ruined present the Rep had been delivering.

Isabelle nodded, taking the coffee soaked gift, “I’ve got it! Have a safe flight!” She waved, beaming with confidence at being left alone in Resident Service.

Nook never took his paw off The Island Representative’s, his representive, your shoulder as he spoke to Orville about booking a flight. The flightless bird having much the same reaction as Isabelle to the gash in your chin, which you’d shown him unprompted by uncovering Nook’s kerchief just enough when Orville caught your eye.

On the plane his paw was on your knee, then thigh, into your hand. The whole time his leg bounced as he stared out the window. You wondered what kind of crazy nerves were rattling in that fuzzy head of his. What loops was he taking himself through scared for you, the island, poor Isabelle and Orville. What would Lottie say, he must be asking himself.

Perhaps he was planning to have the pavement in the plaza evened out, shaved down, or even pay to have it full repaved more flat. No more loose, uneven bricks, smooth clean concrete. But that wouldn’t look very pretty would it? And it would take time, and bells, and inconvenience those who needed Resident Services at all hours.

You leaned ever so slightly onto Nook, holding his paw between your fingers, watching him mentally go over every possible option to make sure a disaster like this never happens again, that everyone involved was properly compensated, and that you, oh so important you, recovered comfortably so you could be back on your feet, sprinting from here to there however you pleased as soon as possible.

“I see you...innocently running in a great field...” Katrina’s fortune from this morning played in your head as you closed your eyes, “I see a lost seagull sailor in need of help...” She’d said. You didn’t quiet understand at the time. Luck in Friendship, Misfortune in Health.

With Tom Nook’s paw finally relaxing in your hand, the flight calming the Tanuki’s anxieties, you supposed now it made a bit more sense.

[blueskyscribe]

I wish TFP Orion Pax had been a little more different from Optimus Prime in personality. Like, he seemed more naive but he didn't actually seem . . . younger?

I wish he'd been more full of enthusiasm and fire, more outgoing, brash or playful, peppering the Vehicons with curious questions, actively trying to make friends. Okay, Megatron isolated him in a guarded room, but. That's on the writers, you know what I mean? That was a very lame use of "Orion is back" imo.

And he just seemed so somber ALREADY, before Megatron even put him in the room.

[thenewzpeg]

Upcoming Lok Sabha elections are for the bright future of youth and creation of a great India: Union Home Minister and Minister of Cooperation Shri Amit Shah

Union Home Minister and Minister of Cooperation Shri Amit Shah, addressing a youth conference in Jalgaon, Maharashtra on Tuesday, made it clear that the upcoming Lok Sabha elections are for the bright future of the youth and the creation of a great India. Shah, the stalwart leader of the Bharatiya Janata Party, believes that voting for the BJP means ensuring a bright future for the youth, the…

[thegreatyin]

the esteemed and feared? king altair aquilae, fifteenth on the requian throne and inheritor of emperor polaris' might, power, and form,

and,

and his only trusted advisor, a fruit bat.

also featuring a bonus no-shading image, because look at that drip altair never wears and hates! woah!!

[meowmeowmessi]

one thing i admire abt city is how well managed they are

[primevein]

The Prime of His Youth: Prime of His Youth: Book I: Forging His Own Path: Ch10: Cinncinatus

Jack and Arcee walked into the open garage doors. "Now that we've had our fun, we need to get back to work." Jack simply stated.

"I wasn't complaining about the work." Arcee stated, "But..."

"But?" Jack asked, "You were complaining about the fun?" he chided.

"I wish it could continue. Are you sure we're all right?"

Jack stopped, and turned towards her. Arcee stopped and nervously looked at him. "Of course we're alright. Just maybe don't go on any more recruiting drives."

"Wasn't planning on it. We'll have to see how she works, anyways."

"You got me a present. Maybe I'll have to get you one." Jack chided.

"Stockings?" Arcee asked, and Jack sighed.

"Where am I going to get stockings that can fit you?" Jack asked, "And can transform?"

"I thought we established that Knockout would be a good place to start."

"I'm honestly not sure if you're serious?" Jack asked.

"Kind of serious, but not enough to put work into it." Arcee replied, and he just glared at her. "Besides, whenever there's a Human woman on TV with stockings, you pay close attention."

"I... uh?.." Jack asked.

"You don't need to hide it, Jack." Arcee stated. "If anything it helped me figure out what you look for in a fembot."

"I, um?.." Jack asked.

"You like your fembots strong, independent, with a vulernable core." Arcee said with glee. "Can rip a seeker in half while wearing high heels and a skirt."

Jack paused for a moment as he thought over. "You know what? Yeah."

"But, we could get you an exosuit." Arcee stated, and he just simply looked at her, "It would mean a lot to me if you were ready to come to Cybertron. Or wherever."

"I can't argue with that." Jack said, but Arcee continued with her pitch.

"It would also keep you warm and cold. And be a helmet, so you can save the helmet up my ass for your mother."

"Do you have to?.."

"Yes." Arcee repliled, "I'm enjoying your swears. I'll become a down home country girl." She then bent down to look him close in the eyes, "But, you like the elegant femme fatale type." She stood back up, "Oh, that reminds me. You were telling me about that ancient dictator."

"Huh?" Jack asked.

"He went back to farming?" Arcee asked. "Sin something?"

"Cinncinatus." Jack stated. "How'd that come up?"

"Oh?" Arcee asked wih a smile, and then paused a moment, "Telling Sirenia what you are like."

Jack paused for a moment, "I'M! - CINNCINATUS?!"

"You had absolute power." Arcee stated.

"I what?"

"The key to Vector Sigma?" Arcee asked.

"It was..."

"The closest thing we had to a Prime." Arcee voiced, and paused, "First man on Cybertron. Face incredible obstacles, returned home, and stepped aside." A pregnant pause followed, "I thought of it when you talked about having a greenhouse."

Jack breathed in deeply, "Literal farming."

"You are the spark Cybertron needed in it's darkest hour."

"Is that why you fell for me?" Jack asked.

"Oh, don't kid yourself, I was already falling. That's just when I hit rock bottom." Arcee said with love. Jack's eyes opened wide, "What?" she asked.

"That's not what that means." Jack stated.

"What?" Arcee asked, "You fall in love, right?"

"Yeah, but Rock Bottom is the worst time of your life." Jack stated.

"Alright?" Arcee asked, "When you fall in love, what happens when you hit the ground?"

"I honestly don't know. I've never gotten this far, before." he chided.

"It's times like this that I can't help but thank Primus that you're my sparkmate."

"I'm the one who married a goddess." Jack stated.

"I'm the one who married a former Prime." Arcee said, and kneeled down. "You have no idea how important that is, do you?"

"It's more about not feeling worthy of it."

"Do you remember what Ratchet said about Orion Pax?" Arcee asked, and Jack developed a fearful look, "That he was a lot like you. But you wouldn't be you if you thought you were worthy of it." Arcee then stood back up. "And while we're on Cybertron, you need to see it. It's not as beautiful as I remember it."

Jack and Arcee looked over at where Sirenia landed. June stepped out. Sirenia waited for her to get a few feet away before reverting. She took a full pace, and then made for a second, when whe was at a risk of hitting June. She paused midstride walked much slower. A small price to pay for her Energon. June walked up to the garage, and paused, Sirenia still behind her. Jack walked up, and pointed to the ground, "Kneel." he firmly stated, and she quickly moved to comply, "How did the checkup go?"

"Did you want to know every issue, master?" she asked, and he flinched.

"Gives us a summary."

"Yes, well, most of the problems were because of... not enough Energon..."

"And a lack of maintenance." June added. "Most of it has been solved, but she'll need to oil herself a couple times a day."

"Then make sure you never run low on Energon." Jack said to her, and she gave him a completely lost look. "What?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, but I can just... take... Energon?" she asked.

Jack breathed in deeply, and turned to his mother, "Sorry, mom." he said, and turned back to Sirenia, "Bullshit." She just stared at him, looking completely lost, "If we start using too much, I'll say something, but Arcee's using less in a week than a single day of combat."

"I wouldn't feel... comfortable... just taking Energon." Sirenia asked, and Jack just gave her a questioning look. "I would not want to be accused of stealing."

A pregnant pause followed before Arcee spoke up, "Just watch her when she fills up. That way you know how much she's taking. That work for you?" she asked Sirenia, whom nodded.

"And we'll work on this master, thing." Jack said to Sirenia.

"How about Mister?" June asked, "Mister Darby." Her eyes got moist and she turned away.

"That's better than master." Jack stated.

"Then Mr. Darby?" Sirenia asked, and Jack nodded. "What would you like me to do first?" she asked.

"Hm?" Jack asked, "Go for a flight, make sure everything's okay." He then turned to Arcee. "If you stick near the roads, Arcee can drive with you."

"Oh, man, babysitting takes me back." Arcee said. "You two have fun with your plaster."

* * *

Sirenia flew alongside the road, with Arcee driving on the road a dozen metres behind her. "So, what's your story?" she asked.

"My story?" Sirenia asked, "I don't have a story."

"Where did you go to?" Arcee asked.

"We didn't think the war would be The Great War." Sirenia stated, "We all thought it would peter out like all of the others. How wrong we were. I waited until the war was on ou doorsteps. I hadn't even heard Orion's speeches, and didn't really care until the Decepticon's were rounding up anyone who had heard them. Well, that's what they said, but they didn't really care to find out."

"You were a flyer?" Arcee asked.

"Where could I fly?" Sirenia asked, "By this point, the war was everywhere. And if I did fly away, there was a good chance I would just get shot out of the skies. What did you do at the start of the war?"

"The exact opposite." Arcee stated, "I heard his speeches. I supported him from the very beginning."

"As a soldier?" Sirenia asked.

"I was just a courier." Arcee simply stated, "I never thought I could be... I never wanted to be..."

"What happened?"

"I had to fight." Arcee stated, "I was good at it. He wasn't a soldier anymore than I was, but at the end, I was alive, and he was dead."

"And then what?" Sirenia asked.

"I joined the militia." Arcee stated, and a pregnant pause followed, "So, you?"

"I fought someone. I didn't kill him. I barely escaped. They didn't think I was worth stopping. I flew away."

"Where did you go?" Arcee asked.

"The only thing I could think of was the Hydrax Plateau. I could take the portal... somewhere..."

"Tsk." Arcee stated.

"I found out." Sirenia replied.

"The plateau was one of the first places the Decepticons conquered."

"I found out." Sirenia repeated.

"What did you do?" Arcee asked.

"I figured the portal would be the worst place to go. So, I slipped on a ship. I caught a bit of rust, but got away."

"Where did you go?" Arcee asked.

"Many places. So many worlds..."

"In the end?"

"Caminus." Sirenia stated.

"Caminus?" Arcee asked. "Don't they worship the Primes? And not just respect, but actually worship?"

"Hm?" Sirenia asked. "They do. Is that a problem?" she asked.

"Oh, you'll find out." Arcee salaciously replied. "How was life on Caminus?"

"Oh?!" a surprised Sirenia asked, "It was wonderful. Most of them are like us."

"Femmes." Arcee stated.

"Femmes." Sirenia repeated.

"Then why come back to Cybertron?" Arcee asked.

"Because I seemed to remembered it being better than it was."

"Tsk." Arcee stated, "I feel the same way. Land on the top of that spire."

Sirenia flew over to a butte and landed atop it. "The war also came to Caminus."

Arcee drove up a dirt slope, launching herself up to the top of the butte. "How did the flight go?"

"It was wonderful!" Sirenia exclaimed, "It's been so long since I could just go for a flight!"

"That's wonderful." Arcee cynically said, and Sirenia nervously looked at her, "That's uh... something you just have to get useful." She then lightened her tone up, "Going for a drive is a wonderful thing. But I meant, how did the repairs go?"

"Oh?" Sirenia asked, "I did not want to complain. Much better than I have been for megacycles. Ratchet was right: I need to spend more time oiling my aching joints."

"Anything else?" Arcee asked.

"Nothing major." Sirenia asked. "So, test flight done?"

"Head back to the garage." Arcee stated, "I'll head there on my own."

Sirenia then bowed, "Yes, Mistress."

[weatherman667]

One of the best/worst things to happen to a writer.

I have to re-read the entire story from book I, chapter 01.

[latestagebirdmask]

The more I think about it, the more excited I am to come back to the shed to live.

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can���t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[allthecanadianpolitics]

On Wednesday, huge crowds gathered after anti-trans organizers called for a “million man march” against transgender rights. Yet, it wasn't the opponents of trans rights who predominantly showed up. Instead, crowds of supporters for transgender rights and teachers unions backing them flooded streets in cities such as Toronto, Vancouver, and Ottawa. Pride flags were raised in front of city buildings, and even Canada's Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, lent his voice in support. What was envisioned as a day to spotlight the “widespread opposition” to LGBTQ+ youth instead blossomed into a remarkable display of backing and unity for trans individuals across Canada.

Full article

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[thenewzpeg]

Alleging tax terrorism, Congress questions motive, timing behind Rs 1823 cr IT demand 

NEW DELHI, March 29: Alleging tax terrorism and apprehending that no free and fair elections were possible in the country under current circumstances, the Congress today lashed out at the Income Tax department for its blatant and partisan misuse of power by selectively targeting the Congress party in the midst of General Elections.  The party leaders revealed that the IT had only yesterday…

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club

Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader

Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club

requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist

————————

“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.

“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.

“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.

“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.

“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.

“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.

“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.

“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.

Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.

“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.

“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.

The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.

“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).

“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.

“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.

“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.

“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.

“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.

“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.

“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.

“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.

“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.

“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.

“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.

“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.

“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.

“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.

“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.

“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.

“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.

“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.

“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.

“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.

“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.

“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.

“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.

“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.

“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.

“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.

“Your girlfriend, mate. I’m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.

“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.

“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.

“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.

“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lance mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.

“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.

“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.

“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.

“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.

“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.

“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”