#we still don't know where the first drink was

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...

[whatwooshkai]

25!

"Congratulations on graduating, I guess."

Heatwave takes a swig of the bottle of high grade and passes it to Blades, who wipes off the top before taking a drink. Chase stares at them balefully.

"I am now an officer of the law-" he starts, but Heatwave waves a hand in his face.

"Not yet, you aren't," he tells him, taking the bottle back from Boulder for another swig. "That's tomorrow. Day one of the rest of our lives, fellas." He offers the bottle to Chase. "Just enjoy yourself, mech."

Chase frowns, doorwings down and finials pinned back. Finally, he sighs and takes the bottle, producing a rag of his own to clean the top. "Alright."

"Attaboy." Heatwave leans back.

"You aren't even a real enforcer," Blades points out, flopping back between Heatwave and Boulder. "You're 'enforcer-adjacent'."

"You're a Rescue Bot," Boulder pipes up, taking the bottle from Chase, then handing to Blades. "We all are. Don't think to hard about the details."

"Damn straight," Heatwave agrees, nudging Boulder's pede with his own.

Chase sighs again, then scoots over to join the pile on Heatwave's other side, accepting the bottle when it's passed back to him.

It's peaceful as they finish the first bottle and get well through the second- up until Heatwave pulls out a cygar.

"What are you doing?" Chase demands, but his voice slurs a little.

Heatwave grins. "Smokin'."

Chase narrows his optics. "This is a non-smoking building."

Heatwave's grin gets bigger. "Whatcha gonna do, arrest me?"

Chase stares at him like he's genuinely considering it.

"Do it," Blades jeers, from where he's been building an impressively intricate card tower on Boulder's chassis. The mech in question is holding so still Heatwave feels the need to poke them every five or so minutes, just to make sure they aren't dead. "Arrest him for being, uh, fuck, um, not funny. Yeah."

"In that case-" Heatwave hiccups, then downs the rest of the bottle in one go. "In that case, arrest us all! But then you'd uh, damn, uh, you'd fuck up the card tower. And that shit's illegal."

"Is it?" Chase's expression is wide open and horrified, doorwings flicking agitatedly.

"Yes, definitely," Blades tells him. "Pass the cygar."

Heatwave reaches around the card tower, and Blades takes the cygar and starts puffing on it like he was a bot that had seen too much. Heatwave knows deep in his spark he's not getting that back.

By the time they've worked their way through five of the bottles, Blades has built his card tower so tightly to the ceiling that Boulder is now stuck beneath it, and they cannot figure out how to get them out. Chase passed out trying, leaving Blades and Heatwave to lean against the two of them, sharing the last bottle and smoking the last cygar.

"You think things will stay like this forever?" Blades asks.

"Hell no," Heatwave mutters around the cygar. The room has taken on an odd haze from them smoking, and even the windows open to vent it hasn't properly dissipated it. "This is the last of our academy days. Now we gotta like, fuck, work 'n shit."

"Not what I meant," Blades mutters. "You're all not gonna die or whatever, right?"

Heatwave frowns, trying to wrap his helm around the question, or at least make up some kind of reassuring answer. "Nah," he settles on. "I won't let us. And... uh, Chase would arrest us."

"He'd find a way," Blades agrees. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They don't really remember the conversation in the morning.

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt.3

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: Wednesday drags you into the woods during the harvest festival.

a/n: I'm starting to get tired of writing in 3rd person so I'm going to be experimenting with perspectives this part. If I enjoy it I might go back and change the previous two parts to first person.

"Are you sure you can trust that normie?"

Enid and I are watching as Tyler is arguing with his father. Y/n left after the appearance of Tyler.

A part of me wished she stayed, she doesn't pretend to get along with me.

"I trust I can handle myself."

The festival illuminates the dark night, the lights of the attractions drawing shadows of the people walking by. The colors stabbing needles in my eyes.

I usually enjoy that sensation.

"Well, good luck and safe travels." Enid reaches out for an embrace. I take a step back, evading her touch.

"Still not a hugger, got it." Enid lowers her arms before heading towards the attractions.

I notice Weems from afar, watching my every move. I am going to need a way to distract her.

After a moment of exploring I find an attraction where you throw darts at balloons attached to a wall, the prize lacks colors. Not that I want the prize anyways I just need it to be believable.

I throw the first couple darts, balloons popping in quick succession. Xavier approaches, resting his elbows on the counter.

"Jeez, if you get any better at this you'll be taking home a whole pack." He says while I throw another dart, followed by the pop of another balloon.

I am unsure of how to feel about Xavier so far. All I know outside of me accidentally rescuing him years ago is that he's friends with Y/n.

"Panda's don't travel in packs, they prefer solitude."

I say, the sound of a balloon popping announcing the period.

"Alright, subtle hint taken." His eyes fall off me and to the board.

I look at him for a moment. "You should know I'm waiting for someone." I say, not realizing the possible implication of the statement.

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky guy? or girl." He has a hint of hope on his face, but not for himself.

"What does it matter to you?" I say while Tyler approaches from behind, the hope on his face replaced with annoyance.

"Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not." Xavier walks between Tyler and I, the energy radiating off him.

With him and y/n being friends and having similar reactions to Tyler, it makes me wonder if he's done something to them.

I look to Tyler for a moment, possibilities forming in my head. It doesn't matter, I'm just using him anyways.

"This is gonna be trickier than I thought." Tyler's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Dad hit me with a curfew. We need to go if I'm gonna make it back in time."

"I've got some dead weight I need to lose first." I look over Tyler's shoulder to Weems who is eating a burger.

"Meet me behind the parking lot when the fireworks start." I say, Tyler nodding before walking off.

The man running the attraction approaches with the panda stuffed animal. "You see that sad, lonely woman over there?" I take out twenty dollars, holding it between my index and middle fingers.

"She needs this pathetic validation more than I do. Would you mind distracting her?"

The man brings the stuffed animal to Weems, when she looks away from me I sneak off towards the parking lot.

-

I'm hanging out with Enid when Tyler and Wednesday pass by.

"So she's actually leaving?" I say with disappointment in my voice. I'm gonna miss her existing with me in the dorm room.

"I mean, that's what the plan is." Enid takes a sip from a drink she got while eyeing me suspiciously.

"Why?" Enid's eyes glisten, wanting to know everything about everyone.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know."

"You sure you don't know?" Enid wiggles her eyebrows at you.

I raise an eyebrow at her accusation. "What does that even mean?"

"I just think you might, y'know, like like her. No one misses a new roommate after one day." Enid says, fidgeting with the straw of her drink.

I felt a wave a heat rush over my face. "No! what are you talking about."

"OMG you so totally do!" If being a werewolf came with a tail, Enid's tail would be wagging so fast she would be flying.

"No! I just think." I pause for a second, flustered by the accusations.

I haven't thought about it yet, do I like her? I mean she is pretty, but I don't know her.

"Just think what?"

"I don't know, she's just pretty that's all!"

Enid's face beams. "Ah! that's so cute!"

Enid was gonna continue speaking until you both get distracted by Wednesday and Tyler running past.

"Wednesday?" I say, looking back to Enid who is gesturing me to go.

I started to run after her, hearing Enid shout from behind. "Go get her girl!" She might as well have painted my face red.

I finally catch up. "Wednesday!" This causing her to turn to me, bumping into Rowan as she enters another vision.

Tyler and I are quick to grab her as she falls. "What just happened?!" Tyler asks before she comes back to reality.

Wednesday stands readjusting her balance, staring at Rowan.

"Wednesday we need to go." Tyler says urgently. Wednesday's eye contact shift to me before she starts chasing after Rowan, grabbing me by the wrist.

"What's happening Wednesday?" I say, trying to keep up with Wednesday's speed as she drags me.

"Rowan come back!" Wednesday let's go of my wrist after my feet catch up.

After a few seconds of running, Wednesday turns to look at me.

"Do you have your wand?"

"Yeah I always do."

Air quickly fills and leaves my chest, your legs start burning at the sudden activity.

Soon we both catch up to Rowan in the woods. You're eyes take a minute to adjust to the sudden darkness of the forest.

Rowan brings his inhaler to his face, taking a deep breath in.

"Rowan, wait!" Wednesday's steps lessen as we get closer

Rowan groans, annoyed. "What do you want? Why are you following me."

I look at Wednesday, wanting to know what's happening. I know she had a vision, but what did she see?

"I don't have time to explain, but you're in danger." Wednesday responds with a serious tone. This is the first time I've heard her this serious, she usually has a sarcastic tone to her voice.

Rowan chuckles for a moment. "I think you've got it backwards." Rowan looks between us deciding what to do.

I start to reach for my wand, his eyes following my hand.

Rowan reaches a hand towards me. I start flying through the air, it feels like an invisible hand is twisting my body controlling how I'm landing.

"Y/n!" Wednesday shouts before I hit my head on landing. My hair fading to white as I lose consciousness.

-

I wake up in the nurses office, quickly sitting up and instantly regretting it. My snow white hair in my face while the world spins around me.

The office is filled with daylight, what time is it?

I realize my hair is white before moving it out of my face.

"Shit." I mutter to myself, looking around to see if anyone's around before trying to stand to find the bathroom.

When I stand, I almost fall as I stabilize my feet. I see my wand on the night stand.

I grab my wand, gripping it tightly as to not drop it.

As I approach the bathroom, I stumble onto the wall before practically falling through the doorway of the bathroom.

I met my own gaze in the reflection of the mirror, my hair white and messy.

I rest one hand on the sink, putting all my weight on it, as I bring my wand to the top of my head.

y/h/c starts to fade back into your hair, starting from the roots to tip.

Now that looks more like me, well besides how out of it I look.

I go to leave the bathroom, falling to the ground past the doorway.

"Y/n!" There are quick steps as the nurse approaches me trying to stand.

"What are you doing out of bed?" She grabs my arm before guiding me back to the bed.

"Wait here a moment, I'll bring your medicine." The nurse walks to a closet as I stay sitting up.

My head was throbbing, the world spinning around me.

She leaves the closet after a moment with a small bottle that is rapidly bubbling, some sort of steam coming out of the bottle.

"Drink every last drop and you should be able to attend some of your classes today." Our nurse was the only other witch in the school, most magic parents aren't too keen on sending their child to a town that burnt witches in the past.

I start to drink the potion, the liquid bubbling down my throat almost causing me to gag.

"It doesn't taste too good." I say after I finish drinking the potion. The nurse grabbing the bottle from my hand

"Well it's not grape-flavored, I'll tell you that." The nurse gives me a smile before going to return the bottle.

The world soon stabilizes around me, my head no longer throbbing.

I stand, finding it ten times easier.

"Fascinating isn't it?" I hear the nurse from the other room. "I've always loved healing magic."

I look towards her. "I would say it's just like magic, but it literally is."

The nurse smiles at me. "If you're feeling better you may head to class."

-

I walk into my carnivorous plants class, everyone already in seats as class was already going on.

"Ah Y/n! glad to see you're okay." Ms. Thornhill interrupts herself to bring her attention to you. "Go ahead and take any seat like usual."

I was going to find my original seat next to Xavier until I see Wednesday sitting alone.

I take a moment to decide before taking the seat next to her, meeting Xavier's eyes as he gives me a knowing glance causing me to roll my eyes.

My glance moves to Wednesday as I find her looking at me, more specifically my hair.

"Hey Wednesday." Wednesday's gaze moves from my hair to my eyes.

Her look has concern in it, as if she's asking 'Are you okay,' through her eyes. Too scared of the intimacy of actually asking.

Ms. Thornhill was helping a student independently giving us a moment to talk.

"Why did your hair turn white last night, after you lost consciousness."

I look at Wednesday, thinking about what I should share.

"That white is my natural hair color, I was just raised to hide it so I guess I still do it out of habit."

Wednesday stares off to the side for a moment.

"What does it mean?"

After a moment of silence I decide to tell her, I open my mouth to explain until I'm interrupted by Ms. Thornhill addressing the class.

"Wednesday." Both of our heads perk up.

"We are thrilled to have join us on our journey into the world of carnivorous plants." Thornhill walks in front of her desk, next to a plant in a glass case.

"Now, who can tell us the name of this beauty?"

Thornhill addresses the flower in the case with her hand. Bianca is the first to raise her hand.

I'm also not the biggest fan of Bianca, she supposedly used her Siren Song on my friend Xavier to manipulate him.

I don't really know too many details about it, but I know she hurt my friend and that's enough for me.

"Dendrophylax lindenii." Wednesday answers without raising her hand, trying to get ahead of Bianca.

Bianca slowly lowers her hand, with a little bit of attitude.

"Otherwise known as the Ghost Orchid."

"First discovered on the Isle of Wight in 1854."

Thornhill looks surprised at Wednesday's knowledge. "Very good, Wednesday!"

Thornhill turns her gaze to Bianca. "You may have competition for first chair, Bianca."

I find myself smirking at the annoyance building up on Bianca's face. Shifting my weight onto my elbows on the table to get a better view.

"Wednesday, perhaps you can identify the Ghost Orchid's greatest qualities."

Bianca shifts her expression from annoyance to confidence. Moving her gaze to Wednesday with the same confidence.

"Resilience and adaptability." Wednesday remains unmoved, her posture as perfect as ever.

"It's able to thrive in even the most hostile environments."

"But it's mere presence can change the ecosystem, causing the established plants to reject it." Bianca butts in, trying to one up Wednesday.

"Usually because the native species is allowed to thrive unchecked. Nothing a weedwacker couldn't fix."

"You can most certainly try."

I can feel the tension between the two, meeting Xavier's eyes for a moment.

"Are we still talking about flowers?" Xavier adds, causing the class to release a light laugh. Alleviating a bit of the tension.

"Thank you ladies, for those, illuminating insights." Ms. Thornhill brings the attention back to her.

"Clearly the plants aren't the only carnivores in class today."

I look between Wednesday and Bianca, sensing the rivalry building between the two.

-

You're with Enid helping with the boat for the Poe Cup. It's a beautiful fall day, the air slightly chilly, the leaves in the trees different shades of red, yellow, and orange.

Wednesday starts approaching from the school, heading to your teams boat. Specifically to Enid.

"I have to get back to the woods, but Weems has been watching me like a vulture circling a carcass."

"And you want me to cover so you can go back to the crime scene that didn't happen?" Enid asks teasingly.

"Crime scene?" You break your focus from painting the boat. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh you don't know? Wednesday has been saying how Rowan was killed by a monster while he now walks around the school. Y'know, very much alive."

Wednesday scowls Enid with her eyes.

"What if she is telling the truth?" Something glistens in Wednesday's eyes when she looks at you.

"We go to a school with vampires and werewolves, but this isn't possible? Plus, I don't think Wednesday is the type of person to lie for attention."

Enid shrugs while she continues painting. "Why don't you ask Y/n to be the distraction?"

Wednesday looks back to Enid. "That's because she will be coming with me to investigate."

I turn my head to Wednesday with a slightly confused expression. Am I? I wasn't aware of this.

Wednesday sees my confusion, I can see her asking through her eyes. I take a deep breath.

I can't say no to her.

Enid looks back to Wednesday, taking her eyes off the boat. "Okay then, why don't you ask Thing? Oh wait you can't because he's mad at you."

"Why's he mad? he's the one who screwed up."

Enid goes back to focusing on painting while shrugging. "All I know is that we spent an hour giving each other manis, and he really opened up. He feels he doesn't respect you as a person."

"Technically he's only a hand."

"Wednesday, he's your family! And he would do anything for you. Go apologize and I'll reconsider helping you."

Wednesday looks around for a moment before meeting your eyes, gazing into them for a moment before she walks away.

Part 4.

Past Lives Masterlist

a/n: happy holidays :))

[ryan-wats]

This is Finnegan. Finn is my sweet, playful little kitten who's taken over my heart and my camera roll. He was first brought to us by his feral mom, Silver, when Finn was old enough to leave the nest. Silver moved him into our garage, and from there, Finn began to trust us more. Then, on December 19th, 2024, Finn decided to take a bold step: he walked right into my warm, cozy home. It didn't take long for him to get comfortable-within just a few days, he was rolling around, meowing, purring, and showing all the signs of a happy kitty.

He loves getting pets and has already become an affectionate little companion. While he’s still warming up to the idea of cuddles, l'm confident that one day he’ll love them, too! Watching him grow from a shy little kitten into the confident, joyful cat he is becoming has been an absolute joy, and I'm so excited to document his journey as a new family member and friend. He’s truly a gift, and I can't wait to share more of his adventures!

This is Silver. Silver is Finnegan’s mama, and she's a bit of a mystery.

We first saw her lounging on our porch as a kitten back on August 22, 2021. She wasn't around for long, though, and we didn't see her again for a while.

Then, one day, she reappeared, and we noticed something different-she was pregnant. We weren't sure at first, but when she laid down on the deck and we saw her belly, it became clear. We started feeding her, and she began to trust us more and more over time.

After a while, Silver disappeared again, and we later learned that she had gone off to give birth. We'd see her from time to time, but she kept to herself, always a bit distant. Then, one day, she brought us Finn, her sweet little kitten, and our hearts grew even bigger.

As the winter weather approached, we decided to set up a heater and beds in our garage, and Silver moved Finn right in. While Silver doesn't get too close to us-remaining the very feral cat she is-she knows where to come for food, and she knows where to go when she gets cold. I admire her independence, and I'm so grateful that she's trusted us to care for her and her baby in her own way.

This is Mama. Mama is my sweet, gentle soul, and she's been with me for about 8 years now. She originally came to me when a family member moved in and brought her along. Mama had been found as a stray in Baltimore City, and though she's had a rough start, she's lived a comfortable and loving life since then. Now about 16 years old, she's settled into the role of being the wise and loving senior of the bunch.

Mama is all about warmth and comfort-her favorite thing in the world is curling up in cozy blankets, where she can snooze the day away. She's also a big fan of cuddles, and nothing makes her happier than snuggling up with me during quiet moments. Mama has a playful side, too! She absolutely loves her banana toy, her fake mouse, and chasing the red laser-although we don't play with it too often, she's always ready for a fun chase. She's also got an interesting habit of drinking water directly from the tub, a quirky little trait that always makes me smile.

In her younger days, Mama was an incredible mouse hunter, and she's still got the skills to prove it!

Though she's slowing down with age, her sharp instincts and determination are still there. Mama is truly the heart of our little family, and I'm so grateful for all the years we've had together. She may not be the same active cat she once was, but her calm presence and sweet nature make her the perfect companion.

[theoxkent]

When she pulled back from the kiss because of morning breath, Theo kept her close and kissed her again just to say they didn't care, "I rather have a stinky kiss than no kiss." They smiled close to her lips and pecked them again before they added. "God, poor Elliot. I don't even know what the fuck did I say to him or what he said to me. I think he kind of wanted you to go back to fuckface which freaked me out more." A mall chuckle as they shook their head, biting their own bottom lip at how ridiculous that whole night was. "I think I thought... if I could prove to you that I could be a good parent then you'd choose me over fuckface. God, I was really freaking out. We were both freaking out." Another soft chuckle left their lips.

Showing her the different parts of the app like the size of the baby depending on the week, Theo explained further, "We were right about the ginger and mint drinks. It also adds bland food like rise, toast which I also gave you that first morning... we've been doing good." A proud smile across their face as they realized they just knew how to take care of her. "Well, it's important and it's something that we're going to have to pay attention to so we know you and the baby are healthy." They answered calmly to her horrified surprise, still taking it all in stride as if it was all just something they were acquainted with their whole life and not for the last hour. "I've also been researching a few real-estate agencies, hoe do you feel about moving out of downtown. It'll be a bit of drive to work but I think it'll be best for us to move to a different neighbourhood. Something like where Elliot lives." The post it notes behind her had some of the things they were telling her about. And they hadn't even started on the pre-schoold they researched or university founds and pet shelters, unrelated but, well not really.

“No you’re right, I shouldn’t have been so damn cryptic. You’re right. I was just panicking so badly because I thought you’d want me to just…well I thought you’d want nothing to do with me when you found out I was pregnant which of course you wouldn’t do because you’re…fucking amazing. Nope. No that doesn’t even cover it actually. Amazing is not a strong enough word.” Reaching up to cup their cheek as her thumb brushed across Theo’s bottom lip, giving them a soft smile as she sighed. “I should have guessed that would be your assumption because why wouldn’t it be. But it’s not. And I’m not. And also we should think about getting those things back to Elliot soon.” The noisy kiss on her cheek making her chuckle softly, giving their shoulder a little push but as they put their face into her neck she stroked the back of their hair, pressing a kiss to the side once more. “You don’t have to be sorry, please don’t be sorry. Come here.” Pulling their head out her neck so she could kiss them softly before wincing. “Sorry - morning breath. That’s not cute. I’ll give you a proper kiss after I brush my teeth.” 

As the request for the phone was given she happily passed it over, rubbing their shoulder as she waited to see what it was needed for, especially since so many things already seemed written out on post it’s on the table. “An app? Oh cute.” Leaning over to be able to see, a small smile on her own face although it had some nervousness behind it, this all felt so grown up and she … we’ll okay technically she was a grown up but she didn’t feel it very often. “Oh wait really? What does it suggest? Because I’m swear to god if this morning sickness goes on too long I’m going to go cra-“ breaking off at the next stream of questions. Looking at them with wide eyes, rendered speechless, because…what? “How is my fucking what?” Blinking a couple of times before shaking her head a little as if to relieve the confusion on it. “I can’t say I’ve checked recently …also I already felt sick…there is no need for those kinds of questions.” How was Theo acting like this was all so normal?! @theoxkent

[the-lights-are-loud]

Light's House as Batfam Part 5

Tim, who has been looking around the house all day for his missing energy drink can finally giving up and grabbing a new one: Where did that can go?

Jason: I dunno, but it's kinda pathetic. Are you really that sleep-deprived?

Tim, setting the drink down and getting up to grab another file for a case: I don't even know anymore

Steph and Cass walk into the room. Steph clocks the energy drink and sneakily snatches it. Cass was the only one to see it.

Tim, turning back towards where his drink was: Where the f-

Jason: did you seriously lose it again?!

Masterlist

[this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it]

Lois and Clark 2x13

[sunsetzer]

On one hand, I want a final fantasy 6 remake, because the game is criminally underrated and the amount of fan content (which is all absolutely fantastic btw) is Not Enough for my neurodivergent, hyperfixating brain.

On the other hand, that would inevitably encourage more people to join the fandom, which would be great, except it seems these days the bigger a fandom gets the more toxic it becomes, and I really like what we have going on over here in our little corner. We all just love the game and its characters and nobody fights about who should and shouldn't date who or who you shouldn't like because they're ~problematique~. Nobody's trying to make one ship morally better than another, nobody's calling anyone names or threatening to doxx people who don't agree with their opinions. It's so peaceful and I love that for us. We're just vibing. Moisturized. Unbothered. In our lane. Flourishing.

[daisywords]

"you should be at the club" and why on earth would I want to???

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[astonmartinii]

put it all on red (bull) | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem russell reader

her brother won the race? does she know? does she care?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, georgerussell63 and 204,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: VIVA LAS VEGAS

view all comments

user3: this is fucking hilarious

user4: her whole ass brother won the actual race and there's not a peep of him on the post

user5: i mean her boyfriend did win the championship...

yourusername: exactlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i mean my instagram is for pretty girls only

user6: do not erase george's beauty

yourusername: nothing to erase girlypop - FUGLY!

user7: the way the guys are in the media pen and can't see that y/n is coming for their necks in instagram comments

user8: i fear she's already started drinking...

user9: in the back of the sky broadcast she hands max a drink and i'm starting to suspect that it was not water or red bull

user10: LMAO HELMUT TOOK A SIP AND LIKE NEARLY FELL OVER

yourusername: i've never claimed to be good at mixing drinks

maxverstappen1: WHERE WAS THE TONIC ???

yourusername: i don't believe in tonic 💔

maxverstappen1: YOU GAVE ME STRAIGHT GIN?

yourusername: straight 🤣

maxverstappen1: Y/N THAT'S ATTEMPTED MURDER ON HELMUT ???

yourusername: free me i did nothing wrong !!!

user11: these people kill me

user12: sign of a healthy relationship is making gay allegations about each other

yourusername: ALLEGATIONS ???

yourusername: george is lucky that he was the first russell carmen met ...

georgerussell63: RIGHT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH

georgerussell63: thank you for the congratulations but STOP flirting with MY girlfriend

yourusername: congratulations??? for what?

georgerussell63: WINNING THE RACE?

yourusername: boring!

georgerussell63: you are so lucky we're family because you are a few cards short of a deck

yourusername: CARDS? that reminds me ... time to gamble!

maxverstappen1

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 1,342,988 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: winning without the fastest car isn't for everyone

view all comments

user13: this caption has y/n russell written all over it

yukitsunoda0511: i sat here and watched them giggle to themselves for a good five minutes while posting this

user14: tell max to post more pictures like the second one

yukitsunoda0511: they are not safe for innocent eyes and they are not taken with a locked door :/

user15: why are you there ???

yukitsunoda0511: they're very generous when they're drunk !

user16: so real

yukitsunoda0511: it's also not just me :(

user17: just how many people are using the bar tab?

liamlawson30: me!

oscarpiastri: me!

charles_leclerc: me!

landonorris: me!

pierregasly: me!

alexalbon: me!

yourusername: broke bitches

carlossainz55: you do not have a job?

yourusername: gambling and being pretty is more of a job that what you will have next season 🤨

carlossainz55: has anyone ever told you you're a really mean drunk

yourusername: just george about a billion times, you get used to it (we just don't invite you out)

user18: she is just dragging anyone now

user19: hold on that is her boyfriend's work boyfriend's enemy

user20: girl is 90% of lestappen twitter's source and you think she's not gonna have a problem with sainz???

yourusername: you're so sexy i actually can't even function

maxverstappen1: gotta put the trophy in trophy husband somehow

yourusername: jokes aside i am super duper proud of you, this year has been insane and you've proven that you are the bestest eva

maxverstappen1: couldn't have done it without my fave cheerleader

yourusername: i'll wear the uniform and everything ....

schecoperez: STOP

georgerussell63: still no congratulations? i know you won the title or whatever but we're going to be brothers soon SHOW SOME RESPECT

yourusername: literally suck his dick

yourusername: wait no

yourusername: suck my dick

yourusername: WAIT NO

yourusername: choke ❤️

georgerussell63: i have no words at this point

maxverstappen1: so romantic hehehehe

yourusername

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tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: put it all on on red (bull)

view all comments

user22: ma'am why is there a cat?

user23: i think we already know the answer

user24: oh i know the answer i just wanna know the batshit explanation

georgerussell63: exsqueeze me ???

yourusername: don't speak like that about your nephew ??

georgerussell63: tell me you're not keeping it??

maxverstappen1: IT? HE JUST LEAPFROGGED YOU IN OUR WILL

georgerussell63: 1. you have a joint will ??? 2. why am i on it ??? 3. what is a cat doing with a monaco penthouse ???

maxverstappen1: i thought you could use the money ? i know toto ain't paying you what he promised me

yourusername: george your weird sugar daddy is more broke than you think sorry xx

georgerussell63: once again, what is stopping me taking the monaco house from a literal cat ?

yourusername: caesar will be very aware of his rights string bean - just because you talk in an uppity accent doesn't mean you actually know anything

georgerussell63: i cannot tell who corrupted who but i am sick of being your victim :(

user25: yes as fun as watching them dog george is i do want to know caesar's origin story

user26: i have a very bad feeling i know where he got his name

alexalbon: HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE CASINO IS HE?

yourusername: ding ding ding we have a winner, always knew you were the smarter half of galex

maxverstappen1: your gambling is getting out of hand

yourusername: did i or did i not win us a cat ?

maxverstappen1: AND £250,000 ???

yourusername: didn't want to promote gambling too much

yourusername: KIDS DO NOT GAMBLE IT IS DUMB

yourusername: look at me i literally have a child now ???

user27: we have lost the original plot of the movie

user28: you must be new, we stopped trying to make sense of these two years ago

lewishamilton: i can assure you it does not get any easier when you know them personally

yourusername: we aim to be sexy and mysterious

lewishamilton: that's strange because you guys dance like little boys and overshare at any given opportunity

maxverstappen1: guilty !

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 873,409 others

tagged: lewishamilton, yourusername & maxverstappen1

georgerussell63: i won the las vegas grand prix and all i got was this lousy cat

view all comments

user29: i am sensing a y/n and max meltdown incoming

user30: maybe they're too hungover to argue?

yourusername: NEVER

maxverstappen1: LOUSY CAT? FIRST OF ALL HE'S NOT YOURS SO KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND ALSO I WILL KILL YOU WITH A GUN

georgerussell63: excuse me?

yourusername: do NOT threaten my boyfriend !!!!!!!!

georgerussell63: do you have selective sight or something?

yourusername: no i just like him more than i like you

georgerussell63: you only met him because of me?

maxverstappen1: i have faith we would've found each other regardless we have a SOUL TIE

yourusername: EXACTLY

georgerussell63: i give up.

yourusername: this is exactly why you don't have a championship ... no drive (pun intended)

georgerussell63: NOW THAT'S IT

maxverstappen1: are you threatening my girlfriend?

georgerussell63: OMG LEAVE ME ALONE

user31: their commitment to never letting george have a day of peace is really quite charming

user32: they're going to give him grey hairs before he even turns 27

alexalbon: i gotta say georgie, i'm not with you on this one - caesar is THE dude

georgerussell63: are all my eggs falling out of the basket at once?

maxverstappen1: that's called karma for calling caesar 'it' and a lousy cat

georgerussell63: i can't lie i am missing your honeymoon phase you guys were a lot nicer

yourusername: we never left the honeymoon phase we just like annoying all of you

maxverstappen1: makes you people leave us alone :3

landonorris: you don't have to be mean to do that

yourusername: YOU JUST GOT OFF OF THIN ICE NORRIS WATCH YOUR STEP

user33: they can make excuses all these want but they just like annoying everyone else

user34: i mean based on their vegas shenanigans i think they would be super fun to be around

yourusername: oscar literally came to stay while he 'looked for a flat' in monaco and hasn't left... it's been three months. face it we're a HOOT

oscarpiastri: they are fun! the secret is to not be annoying sorry george!

maxverstappen1: they grow up so fast :')

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 984,036 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: took a gamble when i went for the lanky posh dude's sister and i can now say it was definitely worth it

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user37: bro says snug as a bug in a rug once and now he's labelled as posh HE'S FROM NORFOLK

user38: it's also the way that y/n never gets the posh allegations

georgerussell63: it's because she's scruffy as fuck x

maxverstappen1: literally outside your house with a knife, keep talking

georgerussell63: i'm a grown man, max, you don't scare me

maxverstappen1: so i'm free to do a little gardening while you hide inside?

georgerussell63: you wouldn't...

yourusername: GO FOR THE PEONIES MAX

georgerussell63: NOT THE PEONIES I BEG HAVE MERCY

user39: so i'm supposed to read all of this shit and take them seriously when they get in the car

user40: it's part of the charm i think

user41: it's all fun and games until you remember they are full grown adults who can vote who are arguing over flowers

yourusername: i'd go through the strenuous task of growing up with george thousands more times just to be with you

maxverstappen1: i've been in love with you since i was 14, there has never been anyone else for me and there will never be anyone else for me

yourusername: ugh why didn't we just get married in vegas ?

maxverstappen1: because even though i did just harm his flowers, i do want to marry you in front of our families

yourusername: i guess you're right

georgerussell63: you know what? based on how you usually talk to me... i'm touched

yourusername: if i'm feeling generous i'll even let you do the seating chart

georgerussell63: I LOVE YOU BEST SISTER EVER

user42: only a declaration of love between max and y/n could end with george proclaiming his love for charts

user43: how does one procure an invite to this wedding ...

yourusername: be cunty

yourusername: @zakbrownceo YOU'RE BARRED

yourusername

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 409,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm the sibling who can't drive and yet i'm the one with four championship trophies in their house... george, step your pussy up x

view all comments

user44: omg queen who can't drive, she's such representation

yourusername: george says i'm so mean all the time but really i'm generous, i clearly gave him all the driving genes

user45: have you even tried driving?

yourusername: i went on max's sim once and got motion sickness and i'm also with the best driver in the world and siblings with an okay one - i'm surviving

alexalbon: he's already texted me about your language on this post

yourusername: just because he's a boomer in a string bean's body does not mean i must censor myself - he should know what stepping his pussy up means by now

georgerussell63: i will not be stepping on any pussy, i respect both felines and women

maxverstappen1: you called caesar 'it' so PLEASE

georgerussell63: i respect women?

maxverstappen1: you called y/n scruffy?

georgerussell63: that's y/n it doesn't count

maxverstappen1: that's not very feminist of you george. i am disappointed

yourusername: i agree, i really think the GDPA should reconsider the type of person they're letting run it

georgerussell63: huh?

yourusername: not once have i been invited to a grid meal ....

georgerussell63: well you're not on the grid that's why

yourusername: FEMALE EXCLUSION

maxverstappen1: you know we have attachment issues, you're so heartless george

georgerussell63: what is going on ???

yourusername: you CLEARLY don't care about me

maxverstappen1: and you CLEARLY don't care about the wellbeing of the grid

georgerussell63: I'M SORRY???

user46: george is unbelievably easy to rattle

user47: it must be so fun

yourusername: oh believe me, we have way too much fun

maxverstappen1: we once convinced him that it was a social faux pas to shake hands in japan lol

georgerussell63: IS THAT WHY MERCEDES WERE TOLD THAT EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS REALLY RUDE ???

yourusername: LMAOOOOOOOO

maxverstappen1: so so so easy bro

user48: i guess a couple that plays mind tricks together, stay together?

yourusername: 4eva

maxverstappen1: til death do us part

yourusername: quite literally you're not leaving me alone with GEORGE

georgerussell63: you know what: DIE

yourusername: GASP

maxverstappen1: @fia get his ass

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX VERSTAPPEN CHAMPIONSHIP DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE. IE. ME LOL

[yuwuta]

CAN’T KEEP MY HANDS TO MYSELF (I MEAN I COULD, BUT WHY WOULD I WANT TO?) — JJK BOYS + TOO HOT

featuring. gojo, okkotsu, choso, itadori, fushiguro

content, warnings. playing too hot with the jjk boys—(too hot is a party game in which two people kiss while keeping their hands to themselves; the first person to touch their partner loses), making out, tongue sucking, uhhh slight predator/prey in yuuta’s oops, they’re a bunch of losers to be honest, there’s a word for the thing yuuji does but i don't know it lolol

word count. 1.6k

SATORU GOJO Satoru is prideful, but you also know that he is nothing if not handsy, borderline clingy on his worst days. The concept of personal space is foreign to him, he’s rarely not touching you when you’re in his proximity, and when you aren’t, he closes that gap—so you’re confident that he’ll lose this game. 

And he does. It takes ninety-two seconds for Satoru to put his hands on you; his palms cupping your cheeks, forcing your jaw open for him to lick at your tongue. You yelp in surprise, try to take in your victory, taunt that you’ve won, but Satoru’s playing an entirely different game now. “I know, I lost,” he pushes his thumbs at the corners of your mouth, parting your lips and staring at your open mouth. Briefly, his eyes flicker to yours, drinks in your pliant expression, the soft touch of your fingers around his wrists, the feel of your body sinking below him, and he smiles, “But I want something else right now. Indulge me?” 

You tap at his right wrist and he moves his thumbs away from your lips, stroking against the soft skin of your cheeks instead so you can speak, “You lost, you’re not supposed to make demands.” 

“Take pity on a rookie like me, won’t you?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to kiss your cheek, then closer, just below your bottom lip, “Please, sweets?” 

“Depends on what you want,” you pout, but your words are strained against Satoru’s kisses. He grins, guiding a thumb back to your lips, this time pressing past the barrier of your lips until they’re wrapped around his digit, smile turning cheshire when he feels you sucking, “I have a different game we can play instead.” 

YUUTA OKKOTSU “Ah, ah—” you pull away from Yuuta, much to his dismay, pulling the hem of your shirt from his grasp, “That counts as touching. You’re not supposed to touch, Yuuta.” 

He’s looking at you intensely, gaze bordering on predatory, slow blinking with blown-out pupils. He nods shallowly, moving his hand from where it was to your side, palm pressing into the couch next to your thigh; it lets him that much closer to you, the tip of his nose grazing yours, you can feel his laborious breaths tickle your lips. Yuuta tilts his head ever so slightly and pauses, blinks, waits—for you to make a sound, for you to tell him no again, for you to run. 

You don’t. He shifts his weight and positions his other hand to rest at your side, caging you between his arms, slotting you underneath his gaze. You curl underneath him, backing up until you’re pressed against the arm of the couch, until Yuuta’s crawled to slot his knee between your legs. You crane your neck away, but you’re still within his reach, and now you’ve presented the perfect canvas for him. He dips his head into your collarbone, leaves a deceptively soft kiss there before nosing up the expanse of your exposed skin and sinking his teeth into your neck. 

Yuuta feels you tense underneath him, body going rigid in a moment of surprise, and then slacking with an exhaled moan, like a bitten bunny. Reflexively, your hands find purchase in his hair, and Yuuta nips over the tender skin, and smiles, “Caught you.” 

CHOSO KAMO “You’re nervous,” you conclude, pulling away from the shallow kiss Choso gave you. 

Beside you, he’s flushed, a hand coming up to reach at the back of his neck as he replies, “I don’t know why,” he exhales, “It’s just... weird to not touch you. I have to think about not touching you, and that means I have to think, which tends to make me, you know... nervous.” 

You giggle, leaning in closer to him, careful not to touch; careful to keep your hips raised above his, even as you straddle him, keep your arms and hands at your sides even though the instinct is to wrap them around Choso’s neck. He doesn’t pull back, even though he should; you like that he doesn’t. “You don’t like to think about me?” 

“No—no! Not like that,” he’s too loud for the proximity, sighing in embarrassment shortly after; you’re too close, way too close, and he’s not supposed to touch, but he wants to—Choso doesn’t like this feeling of restraint, of constriction; it’s too close to when he had a hopeless crush on you, to when he was pining and praying you’d spare him the time of day. Isn’t the point of dating that he gets to have you? To touch you, to hold you—to not hold back? 

“Because I like to think about you,” you admit, leaning in even closer, pressing a kiss to the base of Choso’s neck—and he whines, “I think about you a lot, Choso.” 

The sound of his name from your lips is sweet torture, as is the way you trail your kisses up his neck, up his jaw, behind his ear. Choso’s certain he’s going to rip a hole in his jeans with how taut he’s pulling them between his fists. This isn’t fair—nothing about this is fair. “I don’t want to play anymore,” Choso whines, eyes screwing shut when you suck a hickey onto his collar.

“But we’ve only just started,” you giggle against his skin, “And nobody’s won yet.”

Choso bites his lips, his knuckles are sore, his resolve is weak, and you smell good, you feel good—and he can’t do this. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care; he didn’t make you yours to try and stay away from you. So, Choso gives in, unwinds his fists, places one hand on your waist, and the other against your back, pulling you flush against him, and burying his face in your neck. 

“There, I lose,” he grumbles, not caring for your laughter reverberating against his chest, “Now I can touch you as much as I want.” 

YUUJI ITADORI “Th—this isn’t fair,” you tremble, attempting to move away from his kisses, but you’re caged in between Yuuji and the wall. There’s nowhere for you to run, nothing for you to grab purchase onto but Yuuji—nothing to do but lose. 

“I didn’t hear any rules against this,” he feigns innocence, suckling at your skin, “Think it’s fair game.”

You close your eyes, trying to focus on something, anything else, but it’s hard when all you can see, all you can feel is Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji. Kissing up your neck, at your cheek, then your lips, and you find yourself sighing into his touch, balling your hands into fists to avoid the temptation of cupping his face. 

Yuuji moans when he feels your tongue against his, kisses you back fervently, swirling his tongue across yours and into the cavity of your mouth. He inhales all your breaths, makes it impossible for you to do anything but succumb to his kiss, to swallow his moans, to take everything he gives you. You didn’t expect Yuuji to have this much resolve—you’d anticipated a short, cute round of a silly party game, but you should have known better; Yuuji has never lost a challenge before, and you were naive, at best, to think otherwise.

Predictably, it’s you that lets go first, whining when Yuuji sucks on your tongue, hands trembling and reaching to hold him, to cling to him as some kind of recourse, unable to squirm or move anywhere else. That doesn’t stop him—Yuuji only sucks harder, only forces more moans out of you until you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and bending your knees, weak. 

Then he pulls back, leaving you breathless, tilting his head up to kiss your forehead and flashing you a grin that’s equal parts boyish and wicked with intent, “I win.” 

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO It’s the kind of thing he usually turns down; cliché, fruitless, and unnecessarily time-consuming; but it’s you, so he makes the exception. You’re too eager, positioning yourself to sit on your hands, your legs folded under your knees, peering up at him from where he’s sat slack against the couch, and he thinks you look awful cute on your knees for him.

“Okay, ready?” you smile, “Three, two—” but Megumi already knows his plan, already has his lips on yours before you can say “one,” drinking in your surprised yelp and greedily licking against your tongue when you part your lips to kiss him back. He turns his body towards you slightly, taking advantage of his height and position to bully you into chasing him upwards, to push his tongue into your mouth with ease. 

He indulges in the back and forth for a while, sighs into your kisses, groans when you nip at him. It’s when you pull away, that Megumi decides he’s played along long enough; when he can see your chest swell with heaving breaths, see your hands in your lap, neck craned and spit-slick lips that drive him to reach for you. He’s less than gentle, hands finding purchase on your hips, and forcefully pulling you into his lap, ignoring your yelping, choosing to turn them into moans when he sinks his teeth into your neck. Megumi licks, and bites, and bites, and bites, until he’s certain he’s left a mark, until he feels your hands tugging at his hair and giving him permission to splay his palms against your back and buck you forward.  

“I lose,” he hums, soothing over raw bitten skin with open-mouthed kisses, “So, how do you wanna punish me?”

[tinydefector]

Do you think cybertronians ever get a bit freaked out on how tough we are? Yes they can break us like toothpicks but humans seem to be able to take a good beating as well with adrenaline helping. Even our own body and oxygen trys kills us and yet we stick around like roaches. We're fragile in some reasonable and dumb ways and then resilient in the most dumbest ways.

Oh definitely, alot of the bots are very off put by how fragile humans are just in general and tend to avoid them.

But then there's the moments like Ratchet working a late shift and a small knock on the door alerts him someone's there, he turns around expecting it to be Rodimus or Whirl who he's about to scold but instead it's one of the humans and they look worse for wear. After fussing over them for a moment, detailed scans relay fractured ribs, a broken collar bone, and a heap of bruises and yet the humans just like. "Can I have some Panadol, Nurophen, and a glass of water?" Because they don't know what else to do its what they would get. Most of the times they ended up in the hospital. Ratchet is losing his God dawn mind as he rushes around looking for the best painkillers he can find for orgaincs in the smallest dosage he can give, hoping to primus it doesn't shut their heart down. In the end, they end up on a medication that makes them extremely drowsy, almost like the green whistle/ Weed.

Ratchet ends up doing alot of study on the human body and realises just how fucked up little monsters we are. We literally need oxygen to survive but he we have to much pure oxygen it will kill us. Water, we need a certain amount of it, if we don't have enough we will get dehydrated and die, if we have to much we will get water poisoning, intoxication, or a disruption of brain function. This happens when there's too much water in our cells, such as the brain and blood cells, causing them to swell. When the cells in the brain swell, they cause pressure in the brain, resulting in death. The issue is that it can become an addiction to drinking too much water for the effect it has on the body. Same with nearly everything we consume, it can kill us, but we need a lot of it in moderation.

Human: "I just need some basic pain killers and a nap"

Bot: "No, you need full surgery, sedations, and 3 weeks of recovery!"

Human: "nah she'll be fine!"

Bot: "Absolutely Not, bed now before I cuff you"

____________

Following that imagine a first contact AU where Cybertronians and humans are just slowly getting to know how the other works and next thing a human is kneeling over in horrific pain and it send the bots all into panic mode trying to help them, wondering what's happening and thinking they are dying. And the human after about ten minutes some pain killers still looking rather pale and unhealthy just go. "Sorry about that fuck I hate, Cramps/palpitations/ phantom pains/ and such" and the bots are just looking at them horrified like.

Bot: NOT NORMAL!!!"

Human: what you talking about?

Bot: everything that just happened you literally just short circuited!

Human: nah that's causal wait till you see the really funky shit.

______________

Human pet AU

Cybertronian's keeping humans as pets is like humans keeping hamsters. Humans are some of the most homicidal, suicidal and just deranged creatures that Cybertronian's could keep as pets. It's gotten to the point that they are a luxury/ exotic pet because if you do not feed them the right stuff, give them the right amount of light and socialising, and they will just die. There are so many Cybertronian's who take their human into clinics worried as and its just the human being a little bustard because they didn't get the treat they wanted 2 weeks ago and are still holding that grudge. Not to mention, we are prone to causing as much trouble and issue. We are like cats.

But we are also very easily sick and primus forbid a human gets sick because to a bot they think it's a death sentence for their sweet little spitfire of a human who they have had now for ages. And the human looks ready to die, and the next day, they are up and about like nothing ever happened.

Human: if you don't feed me the meals I want I'm going to pretend to die. If you do feed me what I want I might actually die because I shouldn't be eating it.

Panicked bot: "MY HUMAN HAS GOTTEN SICK. HELP!?!"

Human: totally worth it.

_________

In conclusion, the cybertronians are rather wary/ concerned about how resilient humans really are.

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[moralesispunk]

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

[unstable-samurai]

Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

—

You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."