#mcgill college

[nando161mando]

Montreal counter-protest: Protect trans youth's humanity!

Sat., May 25, 8am

@antifainternational @kropotkindersurprise @anarchistmemecollective @radicalgraff

[allthecanadianpolitics]

[...] Rally at Hall building - The student movement grew more active at 2 p.m. for a “Support the Strike” rally organized by Solidarity for Palestine’s Honour and Resistance (SPHR), as an extension of the overall day of strikes. The demonstration started off with around 100 people, who were joined by several hundred students from Dawson College and McGill University 10 minutes into the rally.

Before the rally, SPHR and student associations had made their strike demands public. Their demands include: for Concordia to publicize their full investment portfolio; for the university to seize all employment partnerships with military companies; for the university to publically condemn the genocide in Gaza; for the university to prohibit police presence on campus; and for the administration to “stop its repression campaign on students.”

The demonstration began with chants from SPHR organizers demanding that the university divest. [...]

“Today, as we see, is a historic day for the student movement. 11,000 students are on strike at Concordia, 11,000 students saying they do not want to be complicit with Israel, 11,000 students demanding that Concordia cut ties with weapons companies,” [ex-general coordinator of SPHR and current Palestinian Youth Movement member] Abisaab said. “Concordia has ignored these demands.” [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @vague-humanoid

[tincanfish]

Who you gonna call? >:) Poster for Better Call Saul! I had to do it for class, so I decided to have some fun with it

[gretagator]

I think they're the same picture actually

[dailymontreal]

[froggingthyme]

hello all!! I’d like to introduce you to my ERB inspired series - Uber Rap Battles of Randomness! (yeah, cuz who doesn’t have an ERB related series at this point?) anways, this is just a lighthearted rap battle series that I write in my free time, if you’d like to know more about any of the battles, feel free to ask!

WAVE 2

Oversimplified vs Sam O’ Nella

Dana & Julia vs Beavis & Butthead

Candace Flynn vs Chuck McGill (ft. Jimmy Falcone)

Anne Boonchuy vs Kiff Chatterley

Impractical Jokers vs Fantastic Four

Jesus Christ vs Anti Pops

Dan Mandel vs Douglas MacArthur

Walter White vs Macbeth

Mordecai & Rigby vs Katie & Sadie

Whitney Foxtrot vs Rick Sanchez (ft. Doc Brown & Marty McFly, Ben Duncan & The Doctors)

[alexjcrowley]

I thought I had grown out of the "stops being normal when fandom thing is mentioned" but today my housemate was telling me about her Canadian friend who studies in Montreal and I almost spit the water I was drinking when she said this girl went to McGill.

All my eyes could see was Wilson in that fucking sweater I swear to God. Both my mum and my housemate asked me if I was okay. 0/10 would not recommend.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"A l'Ecole française d'été de McGill," La Presse. August 11, 1943. Page 3. --- Cet instantané a été pris pendant la collation des grades de l'Ecole française d'été de l'Université McGill, ce matin, au Royal Victoria College, rue Sherbrooke ouest. On voit M. LOUIS ALLARD, professeur émérite à l'Université Harvard, au moment où il remettait la Médaille d'argent du lieutenant-gouverneur à Mme Dora Helen Smyth, de Belleville, Ont., qui a conservé la plus haute note dans la section supérieure du cours de français. Dans le groupe des professeurs présents, on remarque, de gauche à droite: Mile YVONNE JUGE, Mile EDITH GARTLAND, M. LOUIS ALLARD, président d'honneur de la collation des grades; M. J. HOUPERT, M. J. DARBELNET, directeur de l'Ecole française d'été et du département français de l'Université McGill; Mme TOUREN-FURNESS et Me MADELEINE BODIER. (Cliché la "Presse".)

[cjlothecastle]

POUNDING the streets

yesterday concordia and mcgill students stiked and marched througj downtown montreal to fight against the racist fucking tution hikes the quebec governemnt threw at us and demanded free education for all. fuck the ethno-national state. fuck legault. and fuck the whole CAQ y''all are all pigs.

quick facts: it basically doubles tution for out of province and international students, but only for english speaking universities (concordia, mcgill, bishops). this is because montreal is becoming ""too anglicized"". does not apply to french or belgium students (white francophones). does apply to other international students coming from other non-european (white) francophone countries. yes did i mention its racist? it's very racist. this extra money goes to quebec gov to go to french universities. this tuition hike kicks concordia and mcgill in the balls because no one wants to pay that much and these unis will lose So Much Money (concordia already broke). so uh yea. its kinda rly fucked.

broadcasted live on december 1st

full episode here ;;; full playlist here

sadder badder cooler (y2k remix) - tove lo, y2k us ephemeral (george clanton remix) - vitesse x, george clanton WORKING - cartel madres, jide xxx nuggets (ft bonzai) - mura masa, bonzai big pharma - yes*, hubert lenoir, prinzly d’hardest - shadow BOY FEELINGS - CHEEYA black rainbow / uncanny valley - myst milano halt (tension) - jump source, patrick holland, priori promiscuous - nelly furtado, timbland backstabbed - kesha xxx ACAB - ĀMRTÜM BIPP - SOPHIE ha ha ha armageddon - the julie ruin boys wanna be her (tommie sunshine remix) - peaches, tommie sunshine

[roseband]

The defunding of public colleges was also very racial. With Nixon’s education secretary complaining that there were too many diverse and poor students there. It’s suspicious that tuition was added just as numbers of black/hispanic students were growing

There’s an advertising push to show how “bad” public colleges are,

I’ve literally had coworkers say I went to a school “not as good as theirs” in earlier jobs right out of college (CCNY alumn), but nearly all of my adjunct professors in art/design/marketing/web design classess also taught at SVA, Pratt, and the New School. We also were literally at the same job, and at some I was higher paid, and had no loans cause well, I went to CUNY. So I had the same education as coworkers, even sometimes having the exact same professors and curriculum as them, be at the same job, but because someone spent a premium amount of money for the same thing, they’d look down on it. 

(also CUNY/SUNY are free for first undergrad degree for NYS residents making under 125k again and people don’t know about it!!!)

The vast majority of my coworkers in my (pretty visible and don’t want to self dox) apparel job are CUNY/SUNY grads (mostly SUNY FIT), and people still have the “if it costs more it must be better” brainrot when choosing schools

[libraryben]

Literature, literacy, and citizenship took on new and contested meanings in early twentieth-century Canada, particularly in frontier work camps. In this critical history of the reading camp movement, Jody Mason undertakes the first sustained analysis of the organization that became Frontier College in 1919.

Employing an interdisciplinary approach, Home Feelings investigates how the reading camp movement used fiction, poetry, songs, newspapers, magazines, school readers, and English-as-a-second-language and citizenship manuals to encourage ideas of selfhood that were individual and intimate rather than collective. Mason shows that British-Canadian settlers' desire to define themselves in relation to an expanding non-British immigrant population, as well as a need for immigrant labour, put new pressure on the concept of citizenship in the first decades of the twentieth century. Through the Frontier College, one of the nation's earliest citizenship education programs emerged, drawing on literature's potential to nourish "home feelings" as a means of engaging socialist and communist print cultures and the non-British immigrant communities with which these were associated.

Shifting the focus away from urban centres and postwar state narratives of citizenship, Home Feelings tracks the importance of reading projects and conceptions of literacy to the emergence of liberal citizenship in Canada prior to the Second World War.

[kewpiedome]

Some more info taken from dailymail & other news sources — what we currently know about Luigi Maginone.

(pictured is the mcdonalds he was found at)

info under the cut.

!THIS IS AN EDUCATIONAL POST!

This section is specifically about his manifesto, and the things contained in his manifesto. I will regularly update this section with new information. There is not much currently known

Some lines from the manifesto were revealed:

'I do apologize for any strife and trauma, but it had to be done.'

'These parasites had it coming' ( Not potentially credible.. )

2. "The manifesto also stated that Mangione was acting alone and had funded himself."

The document was two pages long, and is currently being investigated by law enforcement.

This section is specifically about him & his personal life.

Luigi Mangione is 26 years old, an ivy league graduate from maryland who had two degrees from the University of Pennsylvania, and graduated from his high school with the highest cumulative four-year GPA.

2. a Facebook post from six years ago was written about Luigi Mangione. The page was set up for anonymous college kids to write love notes to their crushes.

2a. The post read: 'Luigi Mangione. Hot damn. Are you single? You make us engineers have hope!' 2b. Mangione, who graduated from UPenn in 2020, responded: 'Despite all my best efforts... yup still single.'

3. Luigi Mangione is heir to holiday resort fortune created by his grandparents and has sister who's top doctor. His family is deemed "powerful"

3a. His family is centered around the late patriarch Nicholas Mangiano, a first-generation American who built a real estate empire in the state that included country clubs and media.

4. He would talk about the virtues of homicide on his twitter account. " While not giving his own opinion, Mangione's conclusion seems to show that homicide can be virtuous if the action is utilitarian - as in, being an action that maximizes happiness and well-being for the greatest number of people. "

5. he had a fascination with backpain, health, and the medical industry.

5a. " Details from the suspected shooter's social media reveal that he was obsessed with the back pain - and had read two books on the matter. " 5b. " 'Crooked: Outwitting the Back Pain Industry and Getting on the Road to Recovery' by Cathryn Ramin, and 'Back Mechanic' By Dr Stuart McGill. "

6. also on his goodreads account; he seems to admire the unabomber, calling him an 'extreme political revolutionary'

"It's easy to quickly and thoughtless write this off as the manifesto of a lunatic, in order to avoid facing some of the uncomfortable problems it identifies. But it's simply impossible to ignore how prescient many of his predictions about modern society turned out,"

"He was a violent individual - rightfully imprisoned - who maimed innocent people. While these actions tend to be characterized as those of a crazy luddite, however, they are more accurately seen as those of an extreme political revolutionary."

More quotes he posted..

' Imagine a society that subjects people to conditions that make them terribly unhappy then gives them the drugs to take away their unhappiness,' read one excerpt from a Kaczynski quote on Mangione's Goodreads page.

'They say a healthy person has a thousand wishes but a sick person has only one wish - to get well,' another quote on his Goodreads page attributed to author Joe De Sena from The Spartan Way: Eat Better. Train Better. Think Better. Be Better.

" Some of the other Kaczynski quotes included, 'The conservatives are fools: They whine about the decay of traditional values, yet they enthusiastically support technological progress and economic growth.' "

Some more social media posts..

This next section is specifically about the shooting, and any known information in regards to it.

Luigi 3D printed a ghost gun capable of firing a 9 mm round. a ghost gun is " a type of weapon that can be assembled at home from parts without a serial number, making them difficult to trace"

2. " The Shooter appeared to be “lying in wait for several minutes” before approaching the executive from behind and opening fire. He used a 9 mm pistol that police said resembled the guns farmers use to put down animals without causing a loud noise. "

2a. A silencer was also used.

3. The suspect went to starbucks prior to the shooting.

4. " Ammunition found near Thompson’s body bore the words “delay,” “deny” and “depose,” mimicking a phrase used by insurance industry critics. "

5. " The gunman concealed his identity with a mask during the shooting yet left a trail of evidence, including a backpack he ditched in Central Park, a cellphone found in a pedestrian plaza and a water bottle and protein bar wrapper that police say he bought at Starbucks minutes before the attack. "

6. " On Friday, police found the backpack that they say the killer discarded as he fled from the crime scene to an uptown bus station, where they believe he left the city on a bus. "

7. " Retracing the gunman’s steps using surveillance video, investigators say the shooter fled into Central Park on a bicycle, emerged from park without his backpack and then ditched the bicycle. "

8. " He then walked a couple blocks and got into a taxi, arriving at at the George Washington Bridge Bus Station, which is near the northern tip of Manhattan and offers commuter service to New Jersey and Greyhound routes to Philadelphia. "

9. " Late Saturday, police released two additional photos of the suspect that appeared to be from a camera mounted inside a taxi. The first shows him outside the vehicle and the second shows him looking through the partition between the back seat and the front of the cab. In both, his face is partially obscured by a blue mask. "

10. "he was spotted by a McDonald's worker in Altoona, Pennsylvania, he had with him a ghost gun and a manifesto that officials believe could give insights behind the brazen murder that unfolded last week."

Here's some accompanying photos of Luigi.

More images can be found with this link: Photos of Luigi Mangione Thank you to @\redactedtrigger for the link and photos!

This post will be regularly updated with new information.

other posts ive made about Mangione:

Fake ID he used.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A group of students at McGill University have spent more than three weeks on hunger strike in an effort to force the Canadian college to divest from “companies supporting the Israeli military”.

The move follows months of protests and sit-ins at McGill and at universities around the world, as students and faculty members have protested against Israel’s military offensive in Gaza.

Documents on McGill’s website show that it holds investments in companies including Lockheed Martin, a defense contractor that has sold fighter jets to Israel, and Safran, a French air and defense company.

“The university of McGill has left us no choice because they’ve been ignoring the peaceful protests, the actions that have been taken by students and student groups on campus,” said Rania Amine, an undergraduate student at McGill who on Friday marked her 33rd day on hunger strike. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada, @vague-humanoid, @fairuzfan, @sayruq

Note from the poster @el-shab-hussein: it's been going on for three weeks but most of you are likely only learning about this now. This University is also Canada's top University, and one of the top 20 in the world iirc.

[nenelonomh]

the university masterlist

there are many excellent universities around the world, each offering unique programs and opportunities. here are some highly regarded institutions to consider (and what subjects they're renowned for):

united states:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ massachusetts institute of technology (mit): renowned for its programs in engineering, computer science, and physical sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ harvard university: known for its law, business, and medical schools.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ stanford university: excels in business, engineering, and the sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ california institute of technology (caltech): focuses on science and engineering.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of california, berkeley (ucb): strong in a wide range of disciplines, including engineering, business, and the sciences.

united kingdom:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of oxford: offers a broad range of programs and is known for its rigorous academic environment.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of cambridge: excels in sciences, engineering, and humanities.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ imperial college london: specializes in science, engineering, medicine, and business.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚london school of economics and political science (lse): focuses on social sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university college london (ucl): offers a wide range of programs and is known for its research output.

australia:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of melbourne: known for its strong research programs and diverse academic offerings.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ australian national university (anu): excels in research and offers a wide range of programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of sydney: offers comprehensive programs and has a strong research focus.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of queensland (uq): known for its research and teaching excellence.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of new south wales (unsw): strong in engineering, business, and sciences.

canada:

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of toronto: offers a wide range of programs and is known for its research excellence.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of british columbia (ubc): strong in research and offers diverse academic programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ mcgill university: known for its medical and law programs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of alberta: offers strong programs in engineering, business, and sciences.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ university of montreal: known for its research and diverse academic offerings.

when applying to and considering universities, it’s important to consider what programs and environments best suit your interests and goals.

do you have a specific university in mind?

instagram | pinterest | blog site

[desertwritings]

A BREAK FROM STUDYING

A Jimmy Mcgill/Saul Goodman x Cis Female reader Y/N fanfic? 

TBH this is my first time posting my work on Tumblr so I’m still figuring out the formatting. This story is smut based... like heavily smutty and gross so you have been warned. If you like it enough for me to make it a series let me know!

NOW TAKING REQUESTS!

CONTAINS: age gap, daddy k!nk, cream pie, mild squirting, public(ish) sex. 

CONTEXT: You have been working with Jimmy in the mail room for years now and have always had a puppy love schoolgirl sort of crush on him since you first met, but always thought it wasn’t reciprocated. Now, one night, he shows just how badly he’s wanted you this whole time while you try to study for the bar exam. 

I only had another week left until the bar exam and I spent most of my time either working in the mailroom of HHM or studying in doc review. Howard had been supportive enough, allowing me extra time to focus on my studies, all while also paying for my school costs — even if it was just through the local community college. Go Suncats! Honestly, this had been the most support I had ever received. Maybe if I grew up having more support, I would be going to Harvard instead. 

“Heya y/n.” I heard the familiar raspy and pitchy tone of Jimmy as he leaned in the doorway of doc review, where I hunched over a textbook, an empty coffee cup, and a tear-stained notebook. 

“It’s like — almost midnight. What are you still doing here?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my pen and paper. 

I heard his footsteps get closer and the chair beside me pull out and creek as he sat beside me. “I have my reasons.” He answers in a half-assed manner. 

I turned to face him, the dim lamp highlighting his playful smile and I felt my core grow weak and mushy for him. 

The first time I had met Jimmy Mcgill I was working in the mail room, trying to get a job as an assistant or a paralegal for one of the partners. Freshly twenty-three with a bright and optimistic view of the world — full of drive and childish ambition. I was so focused on work and starting classes that I hadn’t taken any time to unwind — let alone care about boys or dating or anything like that. But the first time I met the mysterious brother to Chuck Mcgill, I’ll admit it was like I became a sappy, sick puppy dog. Sure, he was older — a little bit of a loser. But I was weak for the funny pathetic underdogs. Not to mention he was flirty and funny and fed into my childish delusions of how I could “fix him.” I flirted back, wore short skirts, wore the hoop earrings he complimented once, and wore my hair loose and fun. I tried. But for some reason, it never went past harmless office flirtation. I assumed maybe it was the age difference. Maybe he was uncomfortable with being with someone as young as me. Maybe he was just trying to do the right thing but not giving in to temptation with me. 

Now I was almost twenty-seven, and though the schoolgirl crush had dulled a little, there were times when I would catch myself looking at him like he could move heaven and earth. Like in this moment as he sat next to me in the dimly lit document room. So I cleared my throat and turned back to the papers in front of me. 

“Admit you just missed me.” I teased as the smallest of smiles tugged on the corners of my lips. 

“Objection. That’s hearsay.” He teased back, leaning closer as he slid my favorite energy drink across the table with a single finger — the condensation leaving a small streak of liquid on the wood top. “Some of us went out for drinks, and I noticed you weren’t there. Ernesto said you were here studying.” 

“Yeah, yeah he came and asked if I wanted to go but —” I shrugged, motioned to all the school work displayed in front of me. 

“You work too hard. You should take a break and come back out with us.” 

He carefully takes the pen from my fingers, puts the cap back on and sets it aside. It was a subtle and simple thing he did but I felt my skin grow warm. 

“I wish I could, but — I just have a lot to study still, and the exam is —”

“ — a week away.” He interrupts me. “Which means you have time to take one tiny break out of your evening to have a little fun and destress.” 

“I don’t know, Jimmy.”

“Oh, come on, y/n. It’ll be good for you!” He inches so close I can almost taste his cologne and the head and shoulders 2-in1 shampoo. “Come on — for me?”

And with that, I knew. I knew he knew that I had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him and he was using it against me, and fuck — it was working. I tried to fight a smile, shaking my head as my cheeks flushed pink. 

“Fine — whatever,” I said, slamming my book shut. “but only because you seem so desperate.”

He stands up with the dumbest grin. “See? That’s my girl.” 

I stand up, fixing my skirt that had ridden up, my thigh exposed past my thigh-highs, maybe even a bit of my black panties. I wasn’t thinking much of it until I caught a glimpse of Jimmy eyeing me like a lion eyeing a gazelle. It was unexpected, unfamiliar. He had looked at me before in a more appreciative way. This time it seemed more lustful, more desperate even, and it caused my chest and legs to grow hot. I could feel wetness going in between my legs, and for a moment, I got embarrassed.

“I just, uh — I just have to put this stuff in my car, and then we can —” As I was talking, he moved closer, not helping my flustered state. I stopped in my tracks, looking up at him.

I was about to say something. I was about to walk past him and run out of the room but his hands slid around my waist and I nearly forgot how to breathe. His bottom lip was pressed by his teeth, his brows furrowing in what looked like deep thought. Though it wouldn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking about. 

“Jimmy —” I said, his name barely above a whisper. 

“Look — am I totally crazy for thinking that you — that you want me?”   He asked, head tilting just slightly as his eyes didn’t leave my own.    “If I’m making shit up in my head tell me now and I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if I’m right —”

I was so thrown off guard. This whole time I thought he didn’t want me. This whole time I thought I was too young for him or that maybe I wasn’t his type. But here we stood with his grip around my waist firm and hungry and waiting for direction. 

“I —”   I looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He wanted me so bad in this moment he couldn’t even hide it. Without much thought, I got on my toes and pulled his neck down into my kiss. He let out a pleasantly surprised whimper, his grip moving down lower to cup my ass as he pulled me into his bulge. I could feel it stabbing me and twitching. I let out a soft and involuntary moan. 

“I wanna feel how wet you are.” He groaned into my ear, sliding his right hand under my skirt and rubbing his fingers on the outside of my soaked panties. He smiled, placing a rather fervent kiss on my neck and biting my skin gently. “Fuck — you’re so wet. You’re dripping.”

“Mhmm — you make me that way.” I practically moaned the words as he moved my panties off to the side and slid one of his fingers inside me, the wet sounds loud and affirming just how badly my body wanted him. 

“Come here.” He pulled his finger out of me, making me whine in protest as his hands wrapped around my waist to hoist me on the edge of the table. 

At this point, I was panting, aching, my pussy pulsing for him to touch me. He shoved his index and middle fingers in his mouth and lubricated them with his own spit before shoving them into my soaking pussy without so much as a warning. I gasped, smiling, laying back on the table as he positioned my legs over his shoulders. 

At first, he started off with a gentle, slow rhythm. In and out. With every push of his fingers, I could feel him pressing against my walls, making my back arch. “Faster.” I pleaded. And with that he was picking up the pace, ramming his fingers into me with force and speed. I couldn’t even handle it, my legs tried to shut as I began to feel overstimulated, but he pried them open and continued to finger-fuck me while I wiggled and writhed on the table beneath him. 

I let out a loud moan that was followed by his hand cupping around my mouth to stifle my pathetic little noises. I had forgotten where we were and that anyone could just walk in and see us this way. 

“You like that? Do my fingers feel good?” He was getting off on making me feel good, it was easy to tell. He was boosting his ego by making himself feel good by making me cum all over his fingers. 

“Mhhhmm” I mumbled under his hand as my eyes opened and looked up at him.

“God — you’re so beautiful.” He said, staring down at me. “Be a good girl and don’t get us in trouble, okay?” He laughed a breathless laugh as he lifted his hand from my mouth. “You’re getting wetter.” He said with a pleased smirk. 

“I’m so close, Jimmy, please —” and with my pitiful begging, he finger-fucked me harder, this time with three fingers while his other hand played with my clit. “I — I’ll make a mess.” I confessed, more like a warning. 

“Good.” He said, not slowing his pace or showing me mercy as my body tensed and my back arched.

“Fuck — fuck I’m coming —”  I squealed, wiggling around as I started to squirt just a little in between every push of his fingers — my wetness drenched his entire hand and forearm. He just kept going, too, making me moan and writhe around, all pathetic and out of control of my own body. It felt good, though, to not be in control for once. My mind wasn’t thinking about the bar exam, bills, or moving up in HHM. Truth be told, it was just thinking about Jimmy and the way he was making me feel. 

“Ah fuck — you’re so sexy.” He said, taking his drenched hand and slowly pulling it away from me, pressing it to his mouth and licking the tips of his fingers. “I knew you’d taste so good.” I grinned a little, out of breath and panting on the table. 

My eyes wandered to his disheveled hair and his cocky smile, then to his soaked hand that reached into his pants and pulled his erect cock out. He didn’t even need to hold it, it just stood there on its own — ready. 

I slowly sat up on my elbows, practically drooling over his cock, which was bigger than I had imagined. “I want you to fuck me with that.” I confessed, looking back up at his glazed-over eyes. 

He didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed me by the waist like he did before and flipped me over on the table with my ass and pussy exposed. I stuck my ass out just a little more, begging for his cock. But before he stuck it in me he kissed me down from the back of neck, down my spine, and then left a little bit on my ass cheek. Then without much warning he was shoving his hard cock into my still-soaking wet pussy. I gasped and groaned, tilting my head back at the feeling. 

“Ah — fuck.” he nearly whimpered, already breathing heavily as he started off with a slow and steady pace. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to the top back of my head while he said, “I want you to call me daddy.”  

I let out a soft whimper in understanding. “Please fuck me harder, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” he said, fucking me harder and shoving his cock deep into me, ramming into my walls and making me whimper with every thrust. His left hand came up to the back of my head and tangled in my hair as his right hand gripped my waist firm in place as he continued to fuck me.  

“Just like that, daddy, don’t stop.” I moaned, banging my hands on the table with nothing to hold onto. 

He gripped my hair harder, lifting my head up as he thrust into me even more fervently — nothing but the sound of our whimpers and moans and skin slapping together. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He moaned, reaching his hand from my waist to my clit and rubbing it to the rhythm of his thrusting. It only made me moan and shake more. 

“I want you to cum inside me, daddy.” I confess, biting my lower lip. 

“Yeah? You want daddies cum to fill you up?”

“Please daddy — please cum for me.” I begged, barely able to get the words out. 

He picked up the pace to a new speed I didn't even know anyone was capable of reaching, moaning and groaning and sweating all over my bare ass until he made a pathetic whimper sound then the next thing I knew he was emptying his load into my raw pussy — filling me up with his warmth and sliding his cock almost out of me but not quite. I could feel his cock twitching as he continued to empty himself inside me. The feeling of his cum made me even more hot and flushed.

“Holy shit.” he huffed, slowly removing his now flaccid cock from me. I turned over my shoulder to look at him looking at my cum-filled pussy with an arrogant smirk across his face. He was fucking proud of himself. 

I was about to ask for a taste of his cum before we heard footsteps near the mail room. We frantically got ourselves dressed and I rushed to fix the desk and open my book back to make it look like I was still studying. Jimmy fell hard into his seat, hair all sweaty and slightly curled as he zipped up his pants. 

Two cleaning ladies came in with their cleaning cart, staring at us with confusion. “Hola, ladies.” Jimmy said, with a simple wave of his hand. “You can, uh, skip this room tonight.” 

They looked at each other, nodded, then walked out.

Jimmy turned to me with an amused expression, eyes moving down to the now cum-soaked chair I was sitting in and laughed a little. “Guess we should have let them clean.”

[cheeeeseburger]

Sweet like tiramisu, bitter like coffee Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Lance Stroll x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I don't know how I feel about this one, but I wrote it in honour of the Canadian GP! English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

“Lance, I think you should call security. Look who’s here!” Your older brother pointed at you, acting like you were some kind of crazy fan who sneaked in.

You glanced at your brother “They really let you in? Even with your ugly face? It’s going to be bad for their PR, I tell you.” He only sticked his tongue out to you in response.

“Hey, kid,” Lance simply said.

You grinned at Lance, and when he smiled back, it was like you were fourteen again, trying to impress him when skiing at the Mont Tremblant, sneaking glances at him. Gosh, he still had that boyish look that used to make you stutter in front of him.

“Salut, Lance. It’s been a while” you said. He pulled you closed to give you a kiss on each cheek. He smelled like that one hoodie of his that he gave you years ago when you were cold at La Ronde. Embarrassingly, you still wear it sometimes, probably more than you should.

“I know, you’ve changed, kid. You used to be so small. I guess you grew up, huh?”

To prove his point, you gave him a little spin, with your sundress flowing around your thighs. Lance looked at you up and down, noticing that you had grew in all the right places. He flushed a little.

“I guess I did,” you answered, looking right into his eyes. For once, it was him who seemed more affected by your interaction. Your cheeks were only coloured a light pink, a clear amelioration from the tomato look you used to rock whenever you talked to Lance.

Your brother put a stop to the moment you two shared. “Alright, quit showing off. She is still the same as before, only without the braces. Don’t be fooled, Lance, she is still an airhead.” You smacked him on the arm.  “An airhead with a uni degree, dumbass. You’re a college dropout.”

That was a low blow, but still, your brother deserved it. You got a middle finger in response. Lance chuckled, seeing that you hadn’t changed completely.

“You’re still as quick as you were before, kid,” he said, laughing. “What’s your degree in? Engineering, right?”

“Yeah, I just graduated in mechanical engineering. But I’m starting my master in the fall, at McGill.”

He looked impressed at your degree and at the famous Montreal school you attended. “Damn kid, you’re not the type to take it easy, huh? Unlike your lazy ass brother over there.” He lightly punched him on his arm. Your brother pretended to be offended. “Come on guys, do I really deserve all this verbal abuse?”

He saw you laugh, and decided he could not let that slide. “You, shut up, or I’ll tell Lance you had his picture in your locker in high school.”

You gasped. Oh no he didn’t.

Lance laughed, blushing a little. “That’s cute. What about college? Do you have a picture of me at McGill?” He looked way too smug.

This was bad. Very bad. Still, was he just flirting with you?

At the same time, his father entered the paddock. You jumped at the opportunity to change the subject.

“Lawrence, mon Stroll préféré!” You smiled at him. The older man opened his arm to give you a hug.

“Mon sucre d’orge, how are you?” He always had the best hug, making you feel safe and loved.

Lawrence Stroll was like an uncle to you, a father even. Your family and the Stroll family were very close, and you grew up side by side with the Stroll children, even though you were a few years younger than them. You went skiing together during the winter break. You went on vacations together. Your summers were filled with meals at each other house, and you ended up begging to sleepover every single time. To this day, the smell of chlorine always takes you back to endless afternoons spent playing in the pool at the Stroll house.

“I’m doing great, I’m happy to be here!” you replied. You had seen the man only a few weeks earlier, at your graduation dinner, so there wasn’t much catching up to do.

Lawrence exclaimed: “Mon sucre d’orge, you should be at every races! After you finish your master, you should work for us!”

You beamed at the man: “I would like that very much.” It’s true, you would love it. And you had the degree for it.

“So would I. And I wouldn’t be the only one,” he added in a whisper, gesturing towards Lance.

You turned a deep shade of red. Typical you. Lawrence always knew you had a thing for his son. Luckily, Lance did not look like he had heard what his father just said. If he did, you’d have to leave Montreal to live in a country where there are no races.

You brother shook hands with Lawrence, talking for a while. You listened with one ear, too busy sneaking glances at Lance. He was doing the same thing, admiring the silhouette that your dress gave you, the way your hair was framing your face, your slightly parted lips. He surprised himself and started daydreaming about how it would feel to push you against the wall, lifting one of your legs while he stunned you with kisses all over your face.

Lance was pulled out of his fantasy when your brother said it was time to go.

“Bonne chance, Lance,” you wished him good luck shyly, then followed your brother out of the paddock. Oh, your massive crush was so back.

He watched you leave, mesmerized by you, your presence, the way you carry yourself. You were no longer an awkward teen, but a beautiful young woman.

“Poor girl. You know she had a crush on you for years, right? Good on her for moving on.” Lawrence said to his son, sighing. “She really has a heart of gold, and she’s way too bright for her own good. The man who will have her heart will be a lucky man. A very lucky man indeed.”

Later during the day, you received a message from Lance. This was unusual. The last time he had texted you was to wish you a happy birthday three months ago.

Hey kid, it’s me.

You replied quickly, not wanting to bother with pretending to be too busy to answer. When it came to Lance, you were too weak to play hard to get. Also, this afternoon was the first time he had shown signs that he did not see you as your brother's sister, but as a pretty girl. You would be a fool not to jump at the opportunity, if the opportunity came.

Hi, what’s up?

Have you eaten yet?

Yeah, why?

Let me bring you some desert.

What???

Text me your address. Nvm I got it.

Lance, what’s going on?

He didn’t answer after that. Realizing that he was probably on his way, you started tidying up your appartement. It was pretty neat already though, so you mostly did it to distract you. From the corner of your eye, you saw his hoodie and quickly threw it in your wardrobe. If he did come to your place, this was the kind of things that he should not see, like your F1 calendar from last year that was still hung up to the month of January, because he was the picture of the month. But why the hell would Lance show up at your door?

A knock on the door made you jump. You opened it to find Lance on your doorstep, carrying a bag.

“Hey, I brought you a sweet treat”, he announced, letting himself in. You were too shocked to speak. Chat, is this real? He noticed your appearance. You were wearing a silk nightgown. “Are you ready for bed already?” he asked, confused.

Finally, he seemed real enough for you to gain back the ability to speak.

“Uhhh, yeah?”

“What are you, 90? It’s not even 9 yet!”

“So what? I like to be comfortable,” you responded, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He stared at you and your short nightgown, letting his gaze linger on the sight that was the strap sliding of your left shoulder. He wanted to leave a kiss on that exact spot.

“No, no, you’re good, I just expected you to be ready to go out or something,” he said laughing, while walking in your apartment. “You got a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied. “Why did you expect me to go out?” You followed him around in your apartment. It was weird to see him there, but he looked so good in his Boss hoodie that you let it slide for now.

“Gee, uh, I don’t know, maybe because it’s a Thursday night and you’re young and in Montreal?” he answered like you had asked the dumbest question. He finally settled in your kitchen, leaving the box he was carrying on the counter. “Where are your plates?”

“Over here,” you opened the cabinet door at the same time he made a move to grab the doorknob, leaving him towering over you. The last time the two of you had been so close was before puberty. Internally, you were screaming. He grabbed two plates.

“What did you bring? And what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide the affect that his proximity had on you. “And I do go out, sometimes.”

“Having dinner with my dad and your parents doesn’t count. I bought you your favourite tiramisu, from that Italian restaurant you always dragged us to when we were kids.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t worry, I do go out to shake my ass.” He raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes widening a little. You hoped he was imagining you in a tight dress, dancing in the club. You got out two spoons and a knife out of your cutlery drawer. “Thanks for the sweet treat, but why though?”

Lance opened the box to reveal a gorgeous tiramisu. He was right, this dessert really was your favourite, specifically the recipe they used at this restaurant. You both sat on the stools hidden underneath your countertop. “Can’t a guy do something nice?” he said sarcastically.

You looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Lance, come on, be for real. We haven’t seen each other in years, then you show up unannounced at my place.” You cut the dessert and placed it on your respective plates.

He put his hand in the air: “What! I have no bad intentions, I swear. I just thought you could use some sugar.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Against your wish, you let out a small moan as you took your first bite out of the tiramisu. It really was that good. You turned beet red and surprisingly, so did he. Cute.

“Lance, you know I used to have a crush on you, right? But that was years ago, so if you expect me to fall at your feet and sleep with you, you’re in the wrong place, buddy.” This was a lie. He could have you anywhere he wanted, and you would say thank you.

His eyes shuttered a little when he took his first bite. “I’m flattered that you used to have a crush on me, but also a little insulted. How come you don’t have one right now? And is your opinion of me so low that you believe I could really use you like that?” He really did look insulted.

You took another bite of the tiramisu, this time fulling embracing the moan coming out of your mouth. He looked positively flushed now.

“Lance, I saw the way you looked at me earlier. It was like you finally realized I was a grown woman now.”

He took a bite, and he let his head fall back a little. So two can play this game. You were feeling hot all over. It was like a tennis match between the two of you, a duel. All of this over a sweet treat.

“It’s true that you made quite the impression on me earlier. It must be the lack of braces,” he said sarcastically.

You made a show of licking your spoon when you finished your portion. He looked jealous of the spoon.The ball is in your court, sir.

“Oh really? It wasn’t my curves that my dress showed off nicely, or how long my legs looked with those heels? It’s weird, every other guy there seemed to notice my body. I even got the number of an engineer. I think I’m going to go out with him, I might even sleep with him, all that good stuff.” The look on his face was priceless.

It seems you had won this round. He didn’t touch his tiramisu, only bit his bottom lip. He was blushing hard but wanted to maintain his poker face.

“None of these things crossed my mind,” he answered, though it was a very obviously fake answer. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. It was very good for your ego. If your seventeen years old self could see you right now, she’d be proud.

You hit him with quite the shot when you picked up some tiramisu with your spoon off his plate. The simple gesture had quite the effect on him. His gaze followed your spoon from his plate to your mouth. In your face, sir.

“That’s too bad. I wanted you to notice them,” you said innocently.

He did not take this shot well, and immediately went into attack mode. He pulled your stool closer to his and started massaging your calf. He was not playing anymore.

“Don’t worry, kid, I can see them very clearly now.” He stared at you and the generous cleavage your nightdress gave you. The innuendo in his eyes was very clear. You could cut the tension in the room with the same knife you had cut the dessert with.

You moaned softly. This time, it had nothing to do with the tiramisu, and everything to do with the way his hand was slowly getting higher and higher on your leg. Yeah, it was over. He definitely won the match.

You looked at his eyes, which were now a nice shade of bedroom eyes. You felt all the hesitation you had leave your body, and so did your judgement.

“Lance. I really want to have sex with you right now.” How embarrassing to say this out loud. But it wasn't your fault, really. His face and the tiramisu were a deadly combo.

He smirked at your admission. “I thought you said I shouldn’t expect to sleep with you earlier.”

You responded quickly. “Screw what I said. Wait, no, screw me instead,” you leaned from your stool to pull his hoodie off.

He let you take it off, but he was wearing a shirt underneath. He smirked. “In a hurry?”

“Yeah, and for a guy that drives fast for a living, you’re slow as hell.” He laughed at that, and you took off his shirt too. It was sight to be seen. Niagara Falls is nothing compared to Lance Stroll shirtless. He should be on Canadian postcards instead of Lake Louise.

“Don’t worry kid, I can go fast if need be.” You were getting very turned on, and he had not even made a move yet. “So that means you’ll sleep with me?” You leaned to give him kisses all over his neck. 10 years of wanting him made you desperate like that. He shivered at your touch, and he felt your smile against his neck. How flattering to get a reaction out of him. He gently lifted you off your stool and picked up you like a doll so you could sit on his lap. You immediately resumed your activity and went back to kiss his neck, occasionally leaving a mark.

“You seem to want it so bad, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint you. Our friendship means the world to me,” he said, teasing you.

“Uh uh. Can we add “with benefits” to the title of our friendship? Because I really want to get to the benefits right now.” You said in between hickeys. He was holding your waist to keep you close. How you both fitted on that tiny little stool, you had no idea, but this stool was now considered blessed in your mind.

“Since you asked so nicely. Your brother told me you had a boyfriend though.” His grip on you tightened.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t care about him. He’s probably in a bar somewhere, talking to other women, which is fine, since we are not together.” It was his turn to give you attention. He made a trail of kisses all over your neck and jaw, stopping near the corner of your mouth.

“That’s good. Do you have sex with him sometimes?” he asked possessively, which was very unlike him. Lance had never shown an interest in you, and he now wanted to know who you were sleeping with.

“Yeah.” It’s hard to form complete sentences when your crush of the last 10 years is busy leaving marks all over your neck.

“Is he any good to you?” He stopped to look you in the eyes, but kept you distracted by playing with the strap of your nightdress.

“I guess. But I hope you will change my opinion of what is good sex and what is bad sex.” You put your hands behind his neck and started kissing him. It quickly turned into a make out session. He tasted like tiramisu. This was an Oscar worthy kiss. A painting should be made to commemorate the moment. A page in history books should be dedicated to it. Still kissing you, Lance stood up and lifted you with him.

“Where’s your bedroom?” You must have done something good recently. You felt like one of God’s favourites.

You did not sound like yourself when you answered, “The next door to your right.” It was a very surreal moment. He opened the door and gently put you down on your bed. He was standing up, shirtless, and it looked a lot like the teenage fantasy of him you had for years.

Your hair was spread all over the pillow, and your nightdress had ridden up. Playboy magazine would have loved you back in the days. “You’re gorgeous. You look like an angel,” Lance said. “How come I’ve never noticed it before?”

You blushed. “You were too busy thinking of me as a sister.” Your propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him. The sight took your breath away. “Don’t move, I’m taking a mental picture of you. You look so fucking hot right now.”

It was his turn to blush. “Thanks.” He pulled you by your ankles so you could sit on the edge of the bed. He then got on his knees, and ladies and gents, that nearly did it for you. You felt very, very hot. His hand slid under your nightdress so he could take of your underwear. It was hard to remember to breathe.

“Gosh, are we in porn movie or something? No guy has ever gotten on his knees for me before, but they sure as hell expect me to.” You said, laughing in embarrassment at your lack of experience.

“Boys are stupid.” All of Montreal probably heard you when he first touched you with his tongue. It was too much: his touch, the sight of him between your thighs, the grunts he made, you had to grip the sheets to stay still. By the noises he made, he seemed to enjoy himself too.

It took an embarrassing short amount of time for you to shake and scream in pleasure. No guy had ever made you come so quickly, and it had never felt as good. Sadly, it would probably never feel so good ever again. He got out from your nightdress and smirked when he saw you panting.

“You’re the one out of breath, huh?” He licked his lips, and you nearly came again.

“Shut up” was all you had to say. Lance laughed: “Real mature.” He once again took you by the ankles, this time to push you back to the center of the bed. He got on top of you.

“Is this the part where you get inside of me?” He smiled. “You’re so eager. It’s cute. The Aston Martin cap you have is cute too,” he said, referencing the baseball cap on your dresser.

“It’s for Alonso,” you replied, blushing. Lance smirked and whispered in your ear “Yeah, right.” He started kissing your jawline. The whole block probably heard you moaning. Having him on top of you felt so good. Your nails were probably hurting him from how hard you were gripping his back, but he didn’t complain. “Too bad it’s not him in your bed right now.” You shut him up with a kiss.

“Please, Lance, you have to get in me,” you whined. You unzipped his pants and palmed him. “Please, please, please.” He was making pained noises too, and he got out a condom from his pocket. So he had come to your place expecting to get laid. You decided to put the thought aside for now.

You stopped thinking anyway the second he got inside of you. The feeling was nearly overwhelming, and every time he moved, you couldn’t help but moan.

“Lance, goddam, why didn’t we do this earlier?” you asked between screams. He seemed pleased. You arched your back and it was his turn to let out grunts. “Well, we’re doing it now,” he sounded in pain.

“You’re going to ruin me for every other guy”, you complained. Not long after, Montreal heard you scream his name as you came undone for the second time that evening. He copied you a short while later. Both of you were panting, too stunned by what just happened. It was definitely the best sex of your life, but you were too shy to ask him if it was any good. You hoped it was.

You were just about to ask him if he wanted to spend the night when he suddenly got up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused. He pulled his pants back up and zipped them. “I gotta go. Don’t tell anyone we did this.” You pulled yourself to sit against your headboard. You wanted to cry. “Are you serious?”

All he said was: “Yeah, I am. I’ll see you around.” And he left, leaving you speechless in the bed where he just had you. When you heard the door close on his way out, you broke down in tears. How could he be so cruel? He had just used you, ruining years of friendship for this. You felt hurt and humiliated.

After a few minutes of crying hysterically, you suddenly could not stand having his smell on your sheets. It was nearly midnight, but you started ripping them off your bed, and you threw them in the washing machine. There were signs of his passage everywhere in your apartment, and it hurt too bad. You started cleaning manically, from scrubbing the floor to washing your entire silverware. After, it was you who needed to be rid of him. His touch lingered on your skin. You scrubbed your skin until it turned red and shampooed your hair about 5 times. As expected, you broke down crying in the shower. Lance was your friend; he had been since you were kids. Did none of that matter? Were you just a quick fuck to him? A one-night stand that did not even last a night?

You didn’t recognize him. He was such a kind soul. How could you ever face him again? And the fact that he asked you to not tell anyone? The worst thing is, you knew you would never tell anyone, because the humiliation would be too bad.

Eventually, you passed out in exhaustion on the couch. You had to attend the whole weekend, otherwise it would be suspicious, since people expected you to be there. You put on your best dresses, your brave face and you showed up Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. You talked with Lawrence, hanged out with your brother and some friends, you even made small talk with some of the drivers. Your heart hurt like a bitch the whole time, but at least you managed to avoid Lance. That engineer who gave you his number came to see you again, and you made plans for later in the week. Any distraction was welcome.

By the late afternoon on Sunday, you had had enough. You felt tired, heartsick and exhausted after a weekend of fake smiling. Leaving was the only thing you wanted to do. Perhaps you should book a vacation, give your heart a break. Or at least get extremely drunk with your friends. Maybe do both.

You were hiding in a corner, waiting for your brother when a shadow appeared. It was Lance, of course, towering over you. Immediately, your heart started beating fast. Stupid heart. His hair was all ruffled and he was sweating lightly. He had the same look when he was on his knees for you.

“Hey, kid,” he sounded so casual, like nothing had happened between the two of you, like he didn’t have half of your heart.

“Allô. Good job on the race today.” You hoped your voice was not trembling. You did not even attempt to look at him in the eyes, afraid of revealing your pain. The guy you had liked for years made you feel wanted then crushed you in a matter of hours. Of course, that didn’t seem to matter to him.

He put his hand under your chin to force you to look at him, then caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Thanks. Listen, I hope you did not expect anything more than what we did last night. I’m leaving Montreal soon anyway.” Tears started to sting your eyes, but you tried your best to hide them, but Lance was not a fool.

“Not at all. This was just a one-time thing.” You smiled, but tears were running down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb.

“You’re cute when you lie. I’ll see you around.” Lance kissed your cheek, then left you in shock, hiding in the corner. His gaze did not betray any sign of regrets. Your heart was shattered in million tiny pieces that he could crush between two fingers. It was cut into bite-size pieces that he could eat, like that damn tiramisu.

That night, you went home and tried to drown any thoughts of him with ice cream and sad music. It did not work.

A few glasses of wine in, your phone buzzed. It was the man of the hour.

I’ll be at your place in 10.

Against your better judgement, you opened the door to him in your cutest nightdress with mascara tears running down your face. He didn’t bother with tiramisu this time. Nor did he the next time. And the next time.

To be used by him was better than not having him at all.