#most people would roast this car for what it is

[screamn-robo-drawin]

STOENKA!! my take on depressed compressed rusted icon of the old days!

Conjunx to the energetic SubUwU, he is also his coach wich can most times prove to be a lot to handle.

his alt. mode is a Yugo / Zastava 101 ( sto-enka) wich is quite nostalgic to me. also I recomend to look up ads for this, can be cute!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/17/dastar-dly-deeds/#roast-in-piss-sonny-bono

In 1976, Congress set fire to the country's libraries; in 1998, they did it again. Today, in 2024, the flames have died down, and out of the ashes a new public domain is growing. Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate!

For most of US history, copyright was something you had to ask for. To copyright a work, you'd send a copy to the Library of Congress and they'd issue you a copyright. Not only did that let you display a copyright mark on your work – so people would know they weren't allowed to copy it without your permission – but if anyone wanted to figure out who to ask in order to get permission to copy or adapt a work, they could just go look up the paperwork at the LoC.

In 1976, Congress amended the Copyright Act to eliminate the "formality" of copyright registration. Now, all creative works of human authorship were copyrighted "at the moment of fixation" – the instant you drew, typed, wrote, filmed, or recorded them. From a toddler's nursery-school finger-painting to a graffiti mural on a subway car, every creative act suddenly became an article of property.

But whose property? That was on you to figure out, before you could copy, publish, perform, or preserve the work, because without registration, permissions had to start with a scavenger hunt for the person who could grant it. Congress simultaneously enacted a massive expansion of property rights, while abolishing the title registry that spelled out who owned what. As though this wasn't enough, Congress reached back in time and plopped an extra 20 years' onto the copyrights of existing works, even ones whose authors were unknown and unlocatable.

For the next 20 years, creative workers, archivists, educators and fans struggled in the face of this regime of unknowable property rights. After decades of well-documented problems, Congress acted again: they made it worse.

In 1998, Congress passed the Sonny Bono Copyright Act, AKA the Mickey Mouse Preservation Act, AKA the Copyright Term Extension Act. The 1998 Act tacked another 20 years onto copyright terms, but not just for works that were still in copyright. At the insistence of Disney, Congress actually yanked works out of the public domain – works that had been anthologized, adapted and re-issued – and put them back into copyright for two more decades. Copyright stretched to the century-plus "life plus 70 years" term. Nothing entered the public domain for the next 20 years.

So many of my comrades in the fight for the public domain were certain that this would happen again in 2018. In 2010, e-book inventor and Project Gutenberg founder Michael S Hart and I got into a friendly email argument because he was positive that in 2018, Congress would set fire to the public domain again. When I insisted that there was no way this could happen given the public bitterness over the 1998 Act, he told me I was being naive, but said he hoped that I was right.

Michael didn't live to see it, but in 2019, the public domain opened again. It was an incredible day:

https://archive.org/details/ClosingKeynoteForGrandReopeningOfThePublicDomainCoryDoctorowAtInternetArchive

No one has done a better job of chronicling the fortunes of our fragile, beautiful, bounteous public domain than Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle of Duke University's Center for the Study of the Public Domain. Every year from 2010-2019, Boyle and Jenkins chronicled the works that weren't entering the public domain because of the 1998 Act, making sure we knew what had been stolen from our cultural commons. In so many cases, these works disappeared before their copyrights expired, for example, the majority of silent films are lost forever.

Then, in 2019, Jenkins and Boyle got to start cataloging the works that were entering the public domain, most of them from 1923 (copyright is complicated, so not everything that entered the public domain in 2019 was from that year):

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2019/

Every year since, they've celebrated a new bumper crop. Last year, we got Mickey Mouse!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

In addition to numerous other works – by Woolf, Hemingway, Doyle, Christie, Proust, Hesse, Milne, DuBois, Frost, Chaplin, Escher, and more:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes

Now, 2024 was a fantastic year for the public domain, but – as you'll see in the 2025 edition of the Public Domain Day post – 2025 is even better:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2025/

So what's entering the public domain this year? Well, for one thing, there's more of the stuff from last year, which makes sense: if Hemingway's first books entered the PD last year, then this year, we'll the books he wrote next (and this will continue every year until we catch up with Hemingway's tragic death).

There are some big hits from our returning champions, like Woolf's To the Lighthouse and A Farewell to Arms from Hemingway. Jenkins and Boyle call particular attention to one book: Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, its title taken from a public domain work by Shakespeare. As they write, Faulkner spoke eloquently about the nature of posterity and culture:

[Humanity] is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance…The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

The main attraction on last year's Public Domain Day was the entry of Steamboat Willie – the first Mickey Mouse cartoon – into the public domain. This year, we're getting a dozen new Mickey cartoons, including the first Mickey talkie:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mickey_Mouse_(film_series)#1929

Those 12 shorts represent a kind of creative explosion for the Disney Studios. Those early Mickey cartoons were, each and every one, a hybrid of new copyrighted works and the public domain. The backbone of each Mickey short was a beloved, public domain song, with Mickey's motion synched to the beat (animators came to call this "mickey mousing"). In 1929, there was a huge crop of public domain music that anyone could use this way:

Blue Danube, Pop Goes the Weasel, Yankee Doodle, Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush, Ach Du Lieber Augustin, Listen to the Mocking Bird, A-Hunting We Will Go, Dixie, The Girl I Left Behind Me, a tune known as the snake charmer song, Coming Thru the Rye, Mary Had a Little Lamb, Auld Lang Syne, Aloha ‘Oe, Turkey in the Straw, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, Habanera and Toreador Song from Carmen, Lizst’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, and Goodnight, Ladies.

These were recent compositions, songs that were written and popularized in the lifetimes of the parents and grandparents who took their kids to the movies to see Mickey shorts like "The Barn Dance," "The Opry House" and "The Jazz Fool." The ability to plunder this music at will was key to the success of Mickey Mouse and Disney. Think of all the Mickeys and Disneys we've lost by locking up the public domain for the past half-century!

This year, we're getting some outstanding new old music for our public domain. The complexities of copyright terms mean that compositions from 1929 are entering the public domain, but we're only getting recordings from 1924. 1924's outstanding recordings include:

George Gershwin performing Rhapsody in Blue, Jelly Roll Morton playing Shreveport Stomp, and an early recording from contralto and civil rights icon Marian Anderson, who is famous for her 1939 performance to an integrated audience of over 75,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial. Anderson’s 1924 recording is of the spiritual Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.

While the compositions include Singin' in the Rain, Ain't Misbehavin', An American in Paris, Bolero, (What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue, Tiptoe Through the Tulips, Happy Days Are Here Again, What Is This Thing Called, Love?, Am I Blue? and many, many more.

On the art front, we're getting Salvador Dali's earliest surrealist masterpieces, like Illumined Pleasures, The Accommodations of Desire, and The Great Masturbator. Dali's contemporaries are not so lucky: after a century, the early history of the works of Magritte are so muddy that it's impossible to say whether they are in or out of copyright.

But there's plenty of art with clearer provenance that we can welcome into the public domain this year, most notably, Popeye and Tintin. As the first Popeye and Tintin comics go PD, so too do those characters.

The idea that a fictional character can have a copyright separate from the stories they appear in is relatively new, and it's weird and very stupid. Courts have found that the Batmobile is a copyrightable character (Batman won't enter the public domain until 2035).

Copyright for characters is such a muddy, gross, weird idea. The clearest example of how stupid this gets comes from Sherlock Holmes, whose canon spans many years. The Doyle estate – a rent-seeking copyright troll – claimed that Holmes wouldn't enter the public domain until every Holmes story was in the public domain (that's this year, incidentally!).

This didn't fly, so their next gambit was to claim copyright over those aspects of Holmes's character that were developed later in the stories. For example, they claimed that Holmes didn't show compassion until the later stories, and, on that basis, sued the creators of the Enola Holmes TV show for depicting a gender-swapped Sherlock who wasn't a total dick:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/dec/22/lawsuit-copyright-warmer-sherlock-holmes-dismissed-enola-holmes

As the Enola lawyers pointed out in their briefs, this was tantamount to a copyright over emotions: "Copyright law does not allow the ownership of generic concepts like warmth, kindness, empathy, or respect, even as expressed by a public domain character – which, of course, belongs to the public, not plaintiff."

When Mickey entered the public domain last year, Jenkins did an excellent deep dive into which aspects of Mickey's character and design emerged when:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/mickey/

Jenkins uses this year's entry of Tintin and Popeye into the public domain to further explore the subject of proprietary characters.

Even though copyright extends to characters, it only covers the "copyrightable" parts of those characters. As the Enola lawyers wrote, the generic character traits (their age, emotional vibe, etc) are not protected. Neither is anything "trivial" or "minuscule" – for example, if a cartoonist makes a minor alteration to the way a character's pupils or eyes are drawn, that's a minor detail, not a copyrightable element.

The biggest impediment to using public domain characters isn't copyright, it's trademark. Trademark is very different from copyright: foundationally, trademark is the right to protect your customers from being deceived by your competitors. Coke can use trademark to stop Pepsi from selling its sugary drinks in Coke cans – not because it owns the word "Coke" or the Coke logo, but because it has been deputized to protect Coke drinkers from being tricked into buying not-Coke, thinking that they're getting the true Black Waters of American Imperialism.

Companies claim trademarks over cartoon characters all the time, and license those trademarks on food, clothing, toys, and more (remember Popeye candy cigarettes?).

Indeed, Hearst Holdings claims a trademark over Popeye in many traditional categories, like cartoons, amusement parks, ads and clothes. They're also in the midst of applying for a Popeye NFT trademark (lol).

Does that mean you can't use Popeye in any of those ways? Nope! All you need to do is prominently mention that your use of Popeye is unofficial, not associated with Hearst, and dispel any chance of confusion. A unanimous Supreme Court decision (in Dastar) affirm your right to do so. You can also use Popeye in the title of your unauthorized Popeye comic, thanks to a case called Rogers v Grimaldi.

This all applies to Tintin, too – a big deal, given that Tintin is managed by a notorious copyright bully who delights in cruelly terrorizing fan artists. Tintin is joined in the public domain by Buck Rogers, another old-timey character whose owners are scumbag rent-seekers.

Congress buried the public domain alive in 1976, and dumped a load of gravel over its grave in 1998, but miraculously, we've managed to exhume the PD, and it has been revived and is showing signs of rude health.

2024 saw the blockbuster film adaptation of Wicked, based on the public domain Oz books. It also saw the publication of James, a celebrated retelling of Twain's Huck Finn from the perspective of Huck's enslaved sidekick.

This is completely normal. It's how art was made since time immemorial. The 40 year experiment in life without a public domain is at an end, and not a minute too soon.

You can piece together a complete-as-possible list of 2025's public domain (including the Marx Brothers' Cocoanuts, Disney's Skeleton Dance, and Del Ruth's Gold Diggers of Broadway) here:

https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/cce/

[mcmansionhell]

namesake mcmansion

Howdy folks! Today's McMansion is very special because a) we're returning to Maryland after a long time and b) because the street this McMansion is on is the same as my name. (It was not named after me.) Hence, it is my personal McMansion, which I guess is somewhat like when people used to by the name rights to stars even though it was pretty much a scam. (Shout out btw to my patron Andros who submitted this house to be roasted live on the McMansion Hell Patreon Livestream)

As far as namesake McMansions go, this one is pretty good in the sense that it is high up there on the ol' McMansion scale. Built in 2011, this psuedo-Georgian bad boy boasts 6 bedrooms and 9.5 baths, all totaling around 12,000 square feet. It'll run you 2.5 million which, safe to say, is exponentially larger than its namesake's net worth.

Now, 2011 was an anonymous year for home design, lingering in the dead period between the 2008 black hole and 2013 when the market started to actually, finally, steadily recover. As a result a lot of houses from this time basically look like 2000s McMansions but slightly less outrageous in order to quell recession-era shame.

I'm going to be so serious here and say that the crown molding in this room is a crime against architecture, a crime against what humankind is able to accomplish with mass produced millwork, and also a general affront to common sense. I hate it so much that the more I look at it the more angry I become and that's really not healthy for me so, moving on.

Actually, aside from the fake 2010s distressed polyester rug the rest of this room is literally, basically Windows 98 themed.

I feel like the era of massive, hefty sets of coordinated furniture are over. However, we're the one's actually missing out by not wanting this stuff because we will never see furniture made with real wood instead of various shades of MDF or particleboard ever again.

This is a top 10 on the scale of "least logical kitchen I've ever seen." It's as though the designers engineered this kitchen so that whoever's cooking has to take the most steps humanly possible.

Do you ever see a window configuration so obviously made up by window companies in the 1980s that you almost have to hand it to them? You're literally letting all that warmth from the fire just disappear. But whatever I guess it's fine since we basically just LARP fire now.

Feminism win because women's spaces are prioritized in a shared area or feminism loss because this is basically the bathroom vanity version of women be shopping? (It's the latter.)

I couldn't get to all of this house because there were literally over a hundred photos in the listing but there are so many spaces in here that are basically just half-empty voids, and if not that then actually, literally unfinished. It's giving recession. Anyway, now for the best part:

Not only is this the NBA Backrooms but it's also just a nonsensical basketball court. Tile floors? No lines? Just free balling in the void?

Oh, well I bet the rear exterior is totally normal.

Not to be all sincere about it but much like yours truly who has waited until the literal last second to post this McMansion, this house really is the epitome of hubris all around. Except the house's hubris is specific to this moment in time, a time when gas was like $2/gallon. It's climate hubris. It's a testimony to just how much energy the top 1% of income earners make compared to the rest of us. I have a single window unit. This house has four air conditioning condensers. That's before we get to the monoculture, pesticide-dependent lawn or the three car garage or the asphalt driveway or the roof that'll cost almost as much as the house to replace. We really did think it would all be endless. Oops.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[covenofagatha]

'tis the damn season

You're in town for the holidays for the first time in seven years and you run into your old girlfriend.

Word count: 5100

Warnings: sex, fingering, oral, thigh grinding, angst

It’s been seven years since you’ve been back in Westview. 

And yet, as you drive back down the roads in the town where you grew up in, it seems like nothing has changed at all. 

You moved away after college to chase your dreams of becoming an actress in Los Angeles, leaving behind very little here. 

It had worked out; you had landed some roles in TV shows and movies, and you hadn’t been back since. 

Your parents had come to see you for most of the holidays wherever you were filming, and the years had just flown by. But this December, you had no projects in the works and they had begged you to come home. 

So you agreed. 

One day before Christmas, you pull up to the two-story house where you spent your entire childhood through college years. The outside lights are on, like they always were when you would get home late or go for a run or bring friends over. You used to joke that it was because your parents didn’t want you forgetting which house was theirs, but now you know it’s because they wanted to make sure you always knew to come back. 

“Yoohoo,” you hear someone behind you say. You turn around as you’re unloading your suitcase from the car to find Sharon Davis, the widow who lives next door standing there, looking pleased as ever. 

“Mrs. Davis,” you greet pleasantly. She holds her arms out to you and you step willingly into her embrace. The older woman had been your babysitter when you were younger and you remember the plates of freshly baked cookies she always had. 

She pulls back and gives you the once-over, squeezing your biceps. “Well, just look at you, hon. A movie star! How exciting.”

You chuckle and tug on your earlobe, a habit you’ve always had when people compliment you. “Thank you. So, how have you been? How are things here?” 

“Oh, things have been good,” Sharon says, waving her hands. “They built a new school, and that old diner? They tore it down!” 

“No,” you gasp, not really sure which one she’s talking about. 

Mrs. Davis nods like your mock outrage is the appropriate level. “And – oh, what was that girl’s name?”

Your brows crinkle. “What girl?” 

“You know, the one you used to hang out with,” she says, snapping her fingers, and you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Amelia…Abby…Addison…” 

“Agatha?” You offer, knowing that’s exactly who she’s thinking of. Your heart beat picks up.

She points at you. “Yes, Agatha! Well, I didn’t think anything of it until I saw you just now, but she’s been out and about with that Rio Vidal lady. Between you and me, I thought you and her made a better pair. Say, whatever happened with you two?” 

Your jaw clenches so hard you think you might crack a tooth. But thankfully, this is the exact moment when your parents decide to open the door and shout your name. 

“Happy Holidays, Mrs. Davis,” you say hastily, turning towards your mom who throws her arms around you. Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen them in close to a year. 

When she finally lets go of you, you give your dad a hug, and then your mom pulls you back in again. You let her, secretly glad to be home. 

“Well, just look at you,” your mom says, tutting. “Do they even feed you in LA? Come on in, I’ve put on a roast. Stan, grab her suitcase.” Your dad does as he’s told, and you give Mrs. Davis a weak wave, her words still echoing in your head. 

You’re ushered through the front door and to the kitchen table, to the seat that you had claimed as yours all those years ago. The house still looks exactly the same, the pictures, the macaroni art you made in third grade, the first place in the spelling bee certificate hung on the fridge. 

It almost makes you tear up, the amount of history they kept. You can hear the thud of your suitcase hitting the stairs as your dad brings it up to your room and your mom busies herself with setting the table, and you feel a longing pang in your chest for how things used to be. 

In elementary school, you’d run downstairs while your mom chased you around with your clothes and your dad would catch you before both of them walked you to the bus stop. They’d pick you up there too, always together, and you would peer over the countertop to get a glimpse of what your mom was making for dinner. 

In middle school, your dad would be tapping his foot by the front door waiting for you to finish texting and eating breakfast so he could drop you off. Your mom picked you up and then you would all sit in front of the television after dinner and catch up on whatever reality TV show you were watching. 

In high school, you would scarfe down a bagel and rush out of the house, pressing a quick kiss to both of their cheeks. You’d come home and sit at the table, doing homework until late at night, while your dad would do the crossword and your mom would work on her latest sowing project next to you. 

In college, they would give you your space, never prying too much and always having a home-cooked meal if you wanted one. When you started bringing Agatha home, they treated her like she was their second daughter. You would joke that they loved her more than they loved you, and you still remember how Agatha would wink at them, like it was their little secret. 

And then bitterness rises up in you at Mrs. Davis’s words. Rio Vidal? You don’t care who she’s with now, it’s been seven years, but you don’t want to hear about it. If you really cared that much, you would’ve just asked Agatha.

You had known her since your first day of third grade when she had moved to town. She sat next to you and you became fast friends when you offered her your green marker during a coloring project. 

The two of you had only grown closer through the rest of elementary school, middle school, and high school. 

One day, in the middle of senior year, she had started going out with this girl from your Biology class and you didn’t know why you were so jealous. You thought it was just because you were her best friend and you felt like she was replacing you, but then she took her shirt off in front of you while changing for volleyball practice, and your mouth went dry. 

Oh. 

You weren’t jealous because you were her friend. You were jealous because you were in love with her.

It was hard not to be, with her long hair and blue eyes and her easy smile, her entire personality, the way she would look at you like you were the only one in the world. 

Her and the girl broke up, and you couldn’t hide how happy you were about it. But you had never imagined she would like you back, until one night, the two of you were laughing so hard you were almost crying in your bed around midnight, when she had suddenly leaned in and kissed you. 

Immediately you kissed her back and she ended up holding a hand over your mouth while she fingered you that night in your childhood bed so your parents wouldn’t hear you. 

You had asked her to be your girlfriend the next day, and a month later, she told you that she loved you. You said it back with no hesitation at all, knowing that she was the first person you ever meant it to. 

And things were really good for the next four years. You’d gone to the same college, both of you living at home, and still found lots of time to hang out. 

But you were a theater major in college, and things were really starting to go right for you. Agents had been in touch, asking you to fly out to all these places around the US. It was your dream. But Agatha was here, and she had to take care of her parents. She hadn’t even asked you to stay, knowing that it was always your goal to make it out of Westview. Still, you considered it, not wanting to leave her. 

The decision tore you apart, but you ultimately chose to go. 

You told Agatha that maybe you could do long-distance, and you would fly back whenever you could, and you could fly her out to see you, but nothing was ever the same after that. 

There was a disconnect between you now, an ache in both of you, and you knew it was all your fault. She turned cold, colder than the New Jersey winter, and she didn’t even come to say goodbye when you left for the airport the last time you were here. 

You’re happy she moved on, you tell yourself. It’s been seven years. You’ve ��moved on,” dated your fair share of stars, leaving a trail of broken hearts down the road. You weren't sure what was wrong with you, and why you couldn’t feel the same toward anyone else though. 

Your mom puts down the plate of food in front of you, the scent making your mouth water. It’s been too long since you’ve had a meal like this and you immediately dig in, the warmth helping you feel a little better about Agatha. 

After dinner, you’re helping your parents clean up in the kitchen when your dad suddenly slaps his hand to his forehead. 

“I forgot to get a pie crust for tomorrow,” he groans. On Christmas, it’s always been a family tradition to bake a pumpkin pie. 

“Oh, don’t worry, dad,” you say, swiping your keys from the bowl on the island. “I’ll run to the store and get one before they close.” Before they can protest, you’re getting in your car and starting the familiar drive to the grocery store five minutes from your house. 

You’re browsing the aisles, picking up the crust and seeing if there’s anything else you might need, when you hear a cart behind you. You automatically step closer to the shelves so they can pass, but the wheels stop right next to you. 

“Hey there, superstar,” a voice says, a voice that you haven’t heard in seven years, except in your dreams. It’s the same pet name that had been thrown in your face scathingly when you’d chosen LA, but now, there’s a certain fondness to it. 

Before you even turn, you know exactly who you’ll find. “Agatha,” you breathe, taking the woman in. She looks exactly the same, except for a few more lines on her forehead. Time has treated her very well and your heart hurts. She’s wearing a red dress and her long hair is flowing over her shoulders. 

She gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you say, clearing your throat. “Um, how are you? How have you been?” 

She nods. “Not too bad. What about you? How long are you in town for?” The awkwardness hangs over your heads like a sword about to fall. 

“Just for a few days. I’m leaving on the 26th. I had Christmas off though, so thought I would come stop by for a bit. Good to see things haven’t changed around here,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. 

“Well, good to see you,” she says and starts to push her cart but you grab onto it, desperation sinking her claws into your body. You refuse to let her walk away. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow and you quickly let go. “Do you want to maybe, like, get a drink or something? Catch up?” You ask, trying to keep the pleading tone out of your voice but it leaks out anyway. 

She chews on her lip and you want to cry. You haven’t realized how much you’ve missed her until now. “Okay,” Agatha says finally and you feel a weight lifted off you. “Let me get a few more things. Where do you want to go?” 

“How about I just get a six pack and we go sit in my driveway? Like old times?” You know it’s a lot, but you just want to feel like you’re twenty-one with her again. 

But she nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there.” You bite the inside of your cheek before you can say something stupid about how she still remembers where you live. 

You get the beers and the pie crust and drive home, wiping your palms on your jeans every so often. You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just like meeting up with any of your old friends. You’ve known her since you were about eight years old.

It’s only about five minutes before Agatha pulls into the driveway next to you and turns off her car. You swallow hard before unlocking your door so she can slide into the passenger seat next to you. 

“So, superstar,” she drawls, using her keychain to pop off the top to the beer bottle that you hand her. You wince preemptively at the name, worried that she’s going to cut deep. “How’s LA?” 

An exhale slowly escapes you and you launch into telling her the same things you tell everyone about your recent projects and the people you’ve worked with and how one time on set, you kept saying a word wrong and you ended up having to do thirty-seven takes before the director finally changed the script. 

Agatha hangs onto every word, sipping her beer but never breaking eye contact. When you’re finally done talking, she puts her hand on yours and it makes you gasp. “How are you?” She asks, and it makes you falter.

“I just told you–” 

She cuts you off. “Come on. I know you better than that. Do you give that speech to anyone who asks? Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear, tell me how you’re really doing. I can tell when you’re not okay.” 

It’s like a punch to the gut to realize that Agatha still knows you better than anyone else does, maybe even better than you know yourself. “Oh,” you say, voice croaking and you blink fast. “It’s a little lonely, if I’m being honest.” It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted it out loud. 

In the past seven years, you’ve sailed through relationships, both romantic and platonic. Girlfriends never stuck around or you pushed them away, while friends were fair-weathered and only wanted to hang out because you’re famous. 

Agatha never cared about any of that. You find yourself wondering what if you had stayed more than you’d like to admit. It seems like something was always going to bring you back to her. 

Her face softens and she squeezes your hand. “I’m sorry.” 

You give her a wry smile. “Don’t be. I chose it. I left. I left y-” Your voice breaks before you can say that you left her.

“No,” she shushes, and she cups your cheek to wipe the tear you didn’t even realize was falling. “You got out. That’s what you always wanted. I was so angry back then, but it’s okay now. I should’ve tried to stay in touch.”

“I could’ve come back,” you say but she shakes her head. 

“It’s in the past. We can call it even now if you want,” she says and you laugh, finally getting some semblance of closure. 

You nod and hiccup and her lips tug up into the smile you’ve missed so much. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” 

And then the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours and her hands are grappling at your waist to get you into her lap over the center console. You hit your knee on the gear shift and hiss in pain, but then her tongue is sliding against yours and you couldn’t care less about anything besides her. 

Seven years of yearning and pain are poured into the kiss and you can feel all the unspoken words flowing between you. She takes off your shirt, meaning you have to break away for a second. But it’s too long and you kiss her ferociously again to make up for it and all the other times you could’ve had her lips on you but didn’t. 

She digs her nails into your waist and you whimper, rolling your hips against her lap, feeling more alive than you have in forever. Her hot breath is panting into your mouth and your teeth clash and it’s so messy, but it’s absolutely perfect. 

Your fingers entangle into her long hair and she unbuttons your jeans but you pull back. Her eyes widen like she’s afraid she did something wrong. “Inside,” you whisper and she chuckles. 

“Just like old times,” she agrees and opens the door so you can step off and drag her upstairs, still shirtless. Your parents have gone to bed so you drop the pie crust off in the kitchen and carefully pull her up the stairs. She pushes you against the wall when you’re halfway up and claims your swollen lips with her own and she has to swallow your moan when she fits a thigh between yours. “Gotta be quiet, babe,” she reminds you and you want her to just fuck you right there. 

But you know that would be dangerous, and you don’t want your parents to catch you and Agatha again (the one time they did was mortifying) so you reluctantly push her back and lead the way to your bedroom. 

It’s the first time you’ve been back in it and you momentarily lose yourself in reminiscing about the trophies on your dresser and the stuffed animals on the bed and the pictures from all the shows you acted in throughout your youth. 

“They didn’t touch a thing, did they?” Agatha remarks, also remembering clearly what your room used to look like. 

You can still see hers in the back of your mind if you try and wonder how much it’s changed since you last saw it. 

Agatha advances on you, pulls you back in for a bruising kiss, sucks your bottom lip into her mouth. 

“Wait,” you say, a strand of saliva connecting your mouth to hers and her eyes darken. “What about Rio?” 

You don’t know much about Rio, only that she was in your grade in middle and high school. She was more of the wallflower type, intense and brooding and introverted. And weird. 

Agatha laughs breathlessly. “How’d you hear about that?” 

“Mrs. Davis,” you say and Agatha’s brows furrow. 

“Who?” 

You roll your eyes. “My neighbor? Remember, she would always bring cookies for the holidays? She said you’d been ‘out and about’ with Rio.” 

Agatha snorts. “Yeah, like once or twice. Nosy neighbor isn’t a good look for her. But I promise you, I’m not with Rio. Or with anyone else.” 

And that’s good enough for you to drag her back into a kiss and she walks you backwards, hands traveling up your bare back to unclasp your bra, until your thighs hit the bed. She pushes you down and kneels in front of you and your breath hitches. 

You forgot what a pretty sight Agatha on her knees for you was. 

You help her unbutton your jeans and you shimmy them off and she mouths at your pussy over your underwear. Your head falls back at the feeling. 

It’s been so long since you’ve had sex that simply making out with Agatha has you already dripping. 

Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s her. 

“God, I missed you so much,” Agatha groans against you and her hot breath makes you whimper. 

You sit up on your elbows so you can watch her slide off your underwear and then she drags her tongue slowly through your folds. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you whine when she swirls your wetness around your clit and you reach down to grip her hair. 

She scrapes her teeth against your inner thigh in the way that always had your hips bucking and this time is no different. “Shh, superstar. Unless you want your parents interrupting.” 

You nod and bite down on your lip as she resumes eating you out. She remembers every single thing that makes you tick: how to lick up inside you and curl her tongue to hit that spot and then suck on your clit and rake her nails down your thighs. She goes slowly at first, like she’s getting reacquainted with your pussy, but then she loses herself in the taste and her small noises of pleasure only add fuel to the fire growing inside your stomach. 

Agatha starts sloppily devouring you, trying to lap up every drop of your wetness, and your hips are grinding up and down on her face, chasing the intense pleasure you haven’t gotten in seven years. 

No one else came close to making you feel how she did. 

“Agatha,” you moan quietly and she sucks roughly on your clit, thrusting two fingers in and twisting them roughly and it sends you spiraling over the edge. Your mind goes white and you can’t think for a good minute as she continues to slowly fuck you through the aftershocks. 

She settles back onto her heels, face glistening with your wetness and the biggest smirk, and you yank her to you by the hair and lick it off her. And then you shove her over so she’s laying on the bed and you climb on top of her, positioning your weight on an arm next to her head. 

You lean down and kiss her softly while your other hand pushes up the hem of her dress and cups her over her underwear. You gasp when you feel how absolutely soaked they are. 

“Did the girls in LA fuck you that well?” Agatha asks smugly, still trying to regain some control even though she’s under you. 

You pretend to think about it for a moment, tracing her slit through the cloth and watching Agatha’s face contort with pleasure. “Hmm, not really,” you answer honestly. You push her panties to the side and gather her wetness with two fingers. “And how about Rio?” 

A teasing glint lights up in her eyes but when she opens her mouth to answer, you press those fingers into her and a groan comes out instead. You start slow and build up into a faster pace, also remembering exactly what she liked. 

When you feel her walls flutter around you, you rub her clit with your thumb and she clenches tightly, a strangled gasp tearing itself from her throat. You curl and scissor your fingers and squeeze a third one in on a particularly harsh thrust and her body jerks. Her hair is fawned out on your pillow underneath her head and you almost lose focus while thinking about how beautiful she is. 

“There we go, superstar,” she keens when you drop your head and start to suck kisses into her neck, wanting to leave a mark. You’re leaving in two days and you want her to still see the proof of what you did to her after you’re gone. 

You nibble at the skin half covered by her dress until she takes the hint and pulls down the top so she can take her breasts out, not even bothering to take off her bra, and you roll her nipple on your tongue. She gasps when you tug at it with your teeth and you can feel her throb around you. 

“Fuck, babe, I’m so close,” she says and it’s the old pet name in that desperate tone that makes you find the extra energy to fuck her even harder. 

She cums all over your fingers with your mouth on her boob and she tugs you in for a hot, filthy kiss. When you pull out of her, she takes your fingers into her mouth and sucks them clean and you feel the heat in your gut come back. 

But you flop on the bed next to her and she wraps an arm around you, running a hand through your hair. 

“I really have missed you,” she says and it almost hurts you how sweet it is. You smile and try not to cry. 

“I’ve missed you so much. I wish I didn’t have to go back so soon,” you say wistfully, part of you hoping that she asks you to postpone. 

But she just looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes. “You should come back more. I’m not saying that we have to…you know, or anything, but it would be nice to stay in touch.” 

You know that it would be just as unfair and selfish for you to ask her to wait for you as it would be for her to ask you to stay for her. So you nod and don’t ask for anything.

“Yeah, I can do that,” you say hoarsely and she cuddles against you even tighter. 

Sleep comes faster than it has in years and when you wake up, you see that it’s almost 11 am on Christmas. You also can’t remember the last time you slept in this late. Agatha is still sleeping, curled around you like the cutest koala. Her warmth radiates off her and heats you up. 

“Aggie,” you whisper, shaking her. Her eyes blink open and she gives you a lazy smile. 

“I’ve missed waking up like this,” she rasps and there’s no denying the way your cheeks burn. She must see it too because she pulls you closer and allots her thigh between yours, guiding you with a hand on your hips. 

You’re already needy, but you don’t know how much longer before your parents bring it upon themselves to get you out of bed. “Agatha, it’s late–” 

“Better be quick then,” she teases and forces you down harder against the muscles in her leg. She flexes and sounds spill out of your mouth. “Yeah, superstar, just like that. You’re doing so well for me, babe, you look so nice and pretty riding my thigh like that.” 

The memories from last night, the dirty words, the way she feels under you, and the fact that you’re having sex with Agatha has you cumming all over her leg in no time. 

You get out of bed and attempt to find some nicer clothes to put on to go open presents with your family while Agatha lounges in your bed. 

“What time do you leave tomorrow?” She asks. 

“We’re going to the airport around ten. Flight leaves at noon. What are you doing tonight? I might be able to get out for a bit after Christmas dinner.” 

“Still making the pumpkin pie?” She asks and you smile and nod. She had come over for quite a few dinners and helped you make them. “Um, tonight my niece and nephews are coming into town. So I don’t think I’ll be able to get out. What about tomorrow morning?” 

You frown. “My parents are going to take me out for brunch. I’m sure they’d be okay if you came, though.” 

“I know you don’t get to see them often, I don’t want to impose.” 

And for the first time since the grocery store, there’s the awkwardness again. You can’t help but think about where the two of you would be if you had stayed. You wouldn’t have the money or the fame or the experiences, but you’d have a simpler life, a life with the woman you think you’ve always loved. 

It would be enough, right now. 

“Well,” you say finally. “I’ll make more of an effort to come back when I can. It would be good to see my parents, too. And I can give you my personal number. Maybe you can come and see me sometimes as well.” 

“I’d really like that,” Agatha says and you believe her. She grabs her phone from the nightstand and you punch your number in and call yourself so you have hers too. She didn’t change her number. “Can I go out the front door or do I need to sneak out the window like I used to?” 

You laugh at the memories of her climbing the pergola to knock on your window in high school after your parents would go to bed. 

“I think we can try and sneak you out the front door if you want,” you say and she grins. She finally climbs out of your bed and straightens herself up in the vanity while you try not to stare at the marks littering her chest and boobs. 

The two of you quietly step down the hallway and down the stairs and you’re almost to the front door when you hear footsteps. 

“Stan, I think she’s finally awake,” you hear your mom say, voice getting louder as she rounds the corner and she gasps loudly. “Oh my goodness, Agatha! Stan, come look who it is!” 

“She came and stopped by,” you attempt to lie, but your mom shoots you a knowing look and pulls Agatha into a hug. 

“Oh, hey, kiddo! Haven’t seen you in awhile,” your dad says, embracing Agatha once your mom has had her fill. “Do you want to join us?” 

Agatha glances at you and you give her a tight-lipped, pleading smile and she softens. “I would love to, but I should really be getting home. I have some family coming and I need to be there when they arrive.” 

Your parents titter about how it’s a shame and go back into the kitchen. You open the door and step outside with her. 

“I guess this is it,” you say, trying to hide how much it hurts. The first time, she didn’t even come and say goodbye to you, but somehow this feels worse. 

She throws her arms around you tightly and you burrow into her, breathing in her cinnamon scent. “I’ll see you soon though. Let me know when you land tomorrow.” 

You almost tell her that you still love her, but instead you just agree. She pulls back and presses a light kiss to your lips and then she walks away to get into her car. 

She waves at you as she pulls out of the driveway and you stand out there on the porch freezing until you can’t see her anymore. 

But you have her back now, even if it’s just a little part. 

And that’s more than enough for you right now. 

[cutielando]

christmas dinner | m.v.

synopsis: in which you finally introduce your boyfriend to your family

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

Christmas Eve was always a big deal in your family.

The warm glow of string lights decorated every corner of your tía’s house, the smell of tamales and roasted pork filled the air, and the unmistakable sound of your cousins arguing over whose turn it was to bring the drinks echoed from the kitchen.

It was tradition. Chaotic and loving, but it was tradition.

But this year, you were dreading it.

You could already hear the teasing that awaited you. “Still no boyfriend, mija?” your tía would ask with a sly smile. “You’re not getting any younger, you know”. Your cousins would make exaggerated joked about you ending up alone with a dozen cats.

What they didn’t know, however, was that this years things were different. You did have someone. Someone who wasn’t just “some guy”.

You had kept the relationship pretty quiet, out of desire for privacy for one, but also because you didn’t know how you could possibly explain to your close-knit family that you were dating Max Verstappen, four-time Formula 1 World Champion.

You’d been dating Max for almost an entire year. The two of you had met through a mutual friend while you were traveling in Europe.

Despite coming from completely different worlds, the two of you clicked instantly. He loved your sharp sense of humor and the way you always spoke your mind, while you admired his drive and his ability to stay grounded despite the whirlwind of fame surrounding him.

Max had heard plenty of stories about your family and how much they would tease you for not having a boyfriend, so when you mentioned the Christmas gathering, he’d insisted on coming with you.

“I’m not letting you face them alone” he had said with a mischievous smile. “Besides, I’m curious to meet the people who raised someone as fierce as you”

Now, as you both pulled up to your tía’s house, your nerves were in overdrive.

Max looked effortlessly cool in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, carrying a carefully chose bottle of wine in one hand and a plate of stroopwafels in the other.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” you asked, glancing at him nervously.

“I’ve faced media scrums and wheel-to-wheel battles at 300 kilometers an hour. I think I can handle your family” he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling.

“We’ll see about that” you muttered as you rang the doorbell.

The door swung open immediately, and there was your tía, her eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“Mija! Finally! We thought you’d never-“ her words trailed off as she noticed Max standing beside you, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Tía, this is Max, my boyfriend” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

The words hung in the air for a moment before your tía broke into a beaming smile.

“Ah, tan guapo! Come in, come in!” she ushered you both inside, calling out to the rest of the family. “Todos! Look who’s here!”

As you stepped into the living room, the reactions were immediate.

Your aunts and uncles looked Max up and down, their expressions a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Your cousins, however, froze, their mouths dropping open in unison.

“No way, that’s Max Verstappen” your cousin Diego whispered, his eyes darting between you and Max.

“The Max Verstappen?” chimed in your cousin Sofia, clutching her drink like she needed it to stay upright.

Max, ever the professional, extended a hand with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Y/N had told me a lot about you” he said.

The room erupted into complete chaos.

Diego and Sofia launched into rapid-fire questions about the races, his car, and his most intense battles on track, while your uncles exchanged confused glances, muttering “Quién es éste? Un deportista?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver” Diego explained, exasperated. “He’s a four-time World Champion. He’s, like, the best in the whole world.

Your tío, Miguel, raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“World champion, eh? Can he fix a car?” he asked.

Max chuckled, taking the teasing in stride.

“Not as well as your niece can” he said smoothly, earning a round of laughter from everyone but Miguel, who grunted in grudging approval.

Meanwhile, your cousins were still buzzing with excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re dating Max Verstappen” Sofia said, pulling you aside. “How did this even happen?”

You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips.

“We met through some mutual friends. He’s just…Max. He’s not that different from anyone else, you know” you said, your eyes twinkling at the thought of Max.

Sofia gave you a look that said she wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t push any further.

As the night went on, Max charmed everyone in the room. He laughed at your uncle’s jokes, complimented your abuela’s cooking, and even joined in a spirited game of Lotería, picking up the rules quickly with your help.

By the time dessert rolled around, he was no longer just “your boyfriend”, he was Max, part of your family.

“You did good, mija. He’s a keeper” your tía whispered to you as you passed by with a tray of flan.

You glanced across the room to where Max was laughing with your cousins, holding up a Lotería card triumphantly.

He caught your eye and gave you a wink, making your heart swell with love.

For the first time in years, you weren’t dreading the next family gathering anymore.

In fact, you couldn’t wait to bring Max to the next one.

And the next one, and the next one…

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[creativewritersposts]

hidden sides - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

Luke Hughes is the most adorable, sweetest boyfriend you ever wished for and full of surprises.

warning(s); none, pure fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; thinking about part 2, what do you think?

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's a mystery how you became in a relationship with Luke. You're not a victoria secret model, you have a normal body weight and love to eat. You love to watch Luke's games in the arena with fingerfood in your hands. You met Luke as a hard working, all time hungry young man. He thinks twice before he does something risky.

"I miss you", you sigh over the phone. "I miss you too", you can hear Luke's typical accent, laying his head on the pillow. He is tired after traveling the whole day and the workout after arriving the hotel.

"I wish I could support you on your next game", smiling at him. "can you take a look under your bed, please?", his voice sounds raspy. As fast as you can you check the area and find a package with the new jersey devils logo. "What is this?", you open the box within seconds. "Omg omg OMG!", you jump after touching the jersey between your fingers, "it's a jersey with your name!", you squeak. "I know you love hockey games and you're my girlfriend now so-", Luke blushes. He saw you watching tiktoks with these romantic hockey pictures with kissing and it's on his bucket list to give you the romance in real life. He knows Curtis will roast him for these cheesy things. But what can he say? He's weak for you.

"Ahh thank you!!", you hug this jersey tight with his name and number on it. Best day ever.

After a big loss for the devils Luke will be back. Five days after this cute present.

You can't wait until he comes back, stalking on your door like a waiting puppy. You can hear a car, then big steps until the door bell rings.

Luke is back!

"Arggh!", you open the door, jumping in Luke's arms. "hey", he laughs and kisses your hair, let you standing again and gives you a real kiss, full of passionate.

"I saw these and reminded me of you!", Luke gives you white roses, you grin like a winner. No one else ever did this for you.

"You're such a gentleman!", you smirk even more. "If you don't-", you interrupt him with a quick kiss, before he can overthink.

"But what is this?", you get sceptical, a grocery bag in his left hand. "oh", he gets shy and blushes again, "you told me you have issues with your skin-", he breathes out, "yeah?", you raise an eyebrow.

"-so I called mum what's good for skin and bought beauty stuff and face masks-", he shows his teeth. "before you get mad I couldn't decide and I know you love glitter so I bought everything colorful with glitter", he touches his neck in awkwardness. You chuckle. It's so cute how much he reminds little details.

"I didn't know your hidden side, Luke Hughes!", you wink. "hidden side?", he's confused. Is it bad?

"Yeah, as a passionate, very caring and detailed boyfriend", you smile. It's almost disgusting how much you crush on this man. "I'm not painting my nails", he warns you with a boyish voice.

"Let's eat dinner first", you kiss his cheek and walk in the kitchen without answering about this.

"Oh yes, food!", sparkles comes in his eyes. He's more than hungry.

"Oh by the way mom would like to meet you", he gets nervous. Your relationship is fresh and maybe it's too early for this step. But he has too much respect for his mom to say no.

"You were afraid to say no, ain't that true?", you laugh, watching the tall hockey pro getting nervous about such things. "I'd love to meet your most important people in your life".

"I didn't know if I upset you with the news so I reserved in the restaurant next street ", he looks in your eyes, he didn't know you cooked.

"but I cooked", you get disappointed.

"yeah I didn't think you would make dinner, I'll call them", Luke hectically puts his phone out of his pocket. "Let me freeze in the food and let us enjoy your fantastic idea for a date night", you hug his wrist.

"you're not mad?", he asks.

"no"

"thank god because I'm craving after Italian food"

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))

Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader

Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.

Credit to princemick for the GIF

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Bahrain!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️

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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!

fan2: their relationship is eveything you me

gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!

-> y/user: thanks Gords!

“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.

“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!

“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.

“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn and lewishamilton

y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️

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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!

fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!

fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!

“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.

“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!

“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?

“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.

“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.

“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.

“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.

“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.

y/user

Liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and peter.bonn

y/user: Racing in Australia!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!

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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now

-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …

-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!

danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!

-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨

“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.

“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.

“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.

Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.

Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.

Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.

“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.

“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.

y/user

Liked by inthekitchen, peter.bonn and others

y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’

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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)

-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼

peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.

-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!

-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!

“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.

“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.

“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.

“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.

“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.

y/user

Liked by peter.bonn and others

y/user: Racing in Miami

Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!

Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!

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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇

“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.

“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.

“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.

You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!

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[torasplanet]

❝𝙎𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙃.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + YEAGER!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; eren made your grade in history drop 'cause he's a fat jerk! so what better way to get back at your dear brother than to fuck his best friend behind his back?

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, fluff, aftercare, riding, p in v, nerd!armin, kinda slut!reader, eren being eren, like two flashbacks, armin being a sorta good best friend, praise, petnames (baby), kinda switch!armin, childhood crush to lovers, reader having a HUGEE crush on 'minnie >o<, seduction, loverboy! armin, eren being jean's #1 h8r, round two hinted at end, college au, lingere, armin wears glasses cuz i said so >:( !!, kinda sappy, unedited might do it l8r idk, science shit cuz im a nerd, skin color not mentioned

Eren was the worst big brother ever. 

You wouldn’t have chosen to live with him if housing wasn’t so expensive and you two didn’t go to the same college because he’s annoying as shit. He always holds it against you that you’re living with him whenever you tell him to leave you alone. He was probably the worst person ever to be honest and what he had done yesterday was not helping his case one bit.

See, eren was a coffee person and not one of those regular coffee people. The ones that go insane without their dark roast.

Not so surprising when he’s a college student but he’d never been once before being enrolled so you still weren’t used to him drinking it so when he went into your room saying he forgot something in there with a mug in his hand, you didn’t think much of it and stayed in your spot on the couch watching some random Netflix show you liked, you’d watched it a thousand times but it still entertained you but not enough that you didn’t hear eren curse from your room.

When you rushed up to go inside and ask what in the fuck he did, you couldn't even speak when you saw dark brown liquid spilled all over your five-page essay that was on your desk and there was no saving these, they were completely soaked and the words were mixing because of the wetness of the paper. You cursed your professor for making you write it on paper because this could easily happen. And with Eren being as clumsy as he is, of course, he was the one to make it happen.

He didn’t even care that much either! He just said ‘Whoops, sorry.’ and left, he didn’t offer to redo it for you or anything! And because of him, your grade in history has dropped by a lot. Like a B to an F-. You didn’t even know an F- was possible!

Eren was going to pay for this one way or another, but the issue with upsetting him was that Eren didn’t care about most things in the world. You could cut his hair in his sleep and he’d just get a new haircut, you could key his car and he’d be mad but he’d probably do worse to you. You could tell Mikasa about all the embarrassing dreams he’s had about her but he’d just deny it and then punch you later.

But the one thing that would send Eren off the rails was getting with one of his friends. Eren didn’t care if you were friends with his friends but if you even thought about liking one of them, he’d shut that shit down immediately. The idea of you getting with any of his friends disgusted him and he never wanted it to happen which is why you were going to do that; not only were you going to do that but you were going to do it behind his back which would just piss him off more once he eventually found out.

Sure it was extreme but it was the only thing that would actually fuck with him and that wasn’t your fault plus he was friends with a bunch of hot people…including, Armin.

Armin Arlert. Eren’s best friend since they were little kids, you often saw him a lot in your childhood and still saw him a lot in the present and you liked that. Armin was a cutie ever since you guys were young, even with his long hair he was a cutie but now that he cut it short, he was hot. So with your choice of revenge and Armin being hot, you practically had everything laid out.

You didn’t know how Eren would find out or if you would tell him but you got the seduction and the fucking part down! That’s all you needed honestly.

Most of this was so you could get back at Eren but at the same time, some of it was because you had the tiniest crush on Armin ever since you both were little kids. Even though you’ve fucked a bunch of guys, had them sleep over, and dated a lot, your micro feelings for Armin were always resting in the back of your head coming to the surface when you were alone in your room with your hand between your thighs in your panties and a pillow pressed to your face to block your moans.

You’ve been doing that for quite a while as you’ve wanted Armin for years.

Since his junior year and your sophomore when you two landed in the same mixed gym class, he had his blonde bob and wore glasses during that time but you still wanted him. That one class when some loser let his hand slip and hit you in the face with a dodgeball; Armin was helping you to your feet with his hand accidentally cupping your ass which he, of course, apologized for but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

You wanted to tell him that so badly but of course there was Eren ruining everything after he got done yelling at that loser for hitting you. For the first time ever, eren decided to be a good big brother and not let Zeke fill that role instead and take you to the nurse when all you wanted was for Armin to take you there. You thought you’d get him to take you another way if he did but of course, Eren had to be a cock-block even when you both got back to class.

“Ah is she okay!?” Armin asked loudly as he rushed over to you and Eren as you both walked through the gymnasium doors with you holding a paper towel to your nose that was just running with blood in hopes that it wouldn’t continue its rapid flow. Eren took his arm from around your shoulders as he hummed “Yeah, she’s okay. It’s not broken or anything.” Armin let out a relieved sigh at your brother's words as he pushed his rectangle-framed glasses up while you shamelessly stared at him in his gym uniform that seemed a little too tight for him. You could see his scrawny body with little to no muscle (he’s working on it okay!) through his shirt.

Armin made eye contact with you “That’s good, thought we’d have to call Zeke to get you.” He said sweetly which made a smile appear on your face but it quickly fell at the sound of your brother’s voice “Yeah, thought I’d have to get Ymir and beat the hell out of that guy.” Ugh, he was annoying. Eren knew he couldn’t kick anyone's ass even if he had Superman’s powers and yet he was still saying he would.

Of course, Armin looked at him concerningly but said nothing and shook his head before turning to you once more “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He told you comfortingly as he embraced you into a hug with his hands resting on your lower back, you wished that they went even lower like they did before but what he whispered next into your ear really made you want that “Don’t tell Eren about earlier, ‘kay? He’d be so mad.”

He said it like he meant to put his hands on your ass which contradicted his previous apology and it riled you up and made your childhood crush really blossom and now…you had finally gotten your chance to act out all those fantasies and thoughts you had due to his words and piss Eren off at the same time. It’s like a dream come true!

So when you were getting ready to go to Armin's dorm on college campus for your study session that was hopefully going to turn into more, you made sure to put on the cutest black lace thong with a matching bra that was practically see-through, you could see the darkness of your nipples showing through the fabric before you put on your skimpy top and tight-fitting shorts.

Falsies fluttered constantly as you looked through them peering up at Armin’s dorm door waiting for him to come and open the door for you and his study session. You perked up at the sound of the door unlocking before it opened revealing the blonde already staring at you but his gaze turned confused very quickly and you knew why. 

You looked stupid, didn’t you? Here for a study session and yet there was nothing in your hands, no books, no pencil, nothing. Everything you needed was in the pockets of your shorts, your phone, and of course a condom. “Hi Armin, can I come in?” You questioned looking him up and down, he was wearing the white tee and grey sweatpants combo that almost made you drop to your knees while foaming at the mouth clawing at the waistband of his pants in the middle of this hallway.

His blue eyes drifted down to your boobs that were practically out of your shirt but quickly returned to your face that had gained a promiscuous smirk at the drifting of his gaze “Uh y-yeah, sure.” Armin stammered shaking his head seemingly to snap himself out of a trance that your body put him in. He moved out of the way and let you walk inside the dorm room that he shared with Bertholdt but clearly, the male wasn’t here which would make this all the easier for you “So what do you need help with exactly, you didn’t bring anything?” Armin asked his voice less nervous than it was before as he closed the door and leaned against it while his eyes followed your body as you sat on the edge of his neatly-done bed kicking your shoes off.

You blinked your falsies at him as you leaned back on your palms “A lot, I just thought I’d watch you y’know…do some of the work.” You replied making sure to purse your glossy lips out a bit with your words as you gazed at the blonde that was inching closer to you “I think it’s easier if I watch someone like you do it.” It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t very good at science and Armin was but you were playing it up a little bit. Like you needed him…well you did just not in the way you were telling him.

Armin nervously crept over to his desk that had his PC and everything on it which was sometimes used to play video games loudly with Eren, Connie, and Jean but its main use was for school work “What do you mean?” He asked as you stood up grabbed a chair from Bertholdt’s side of the room and sat down right next to Armin who was glancing down at your cleavage and your thighs, and who knows what he was looking at when your back was turned. You never took Armin for a perv but you weren’t hating the idea of that.

“I mean smart people, eren’s useless so he can’t help me and Mikasa never has time. She’s always with Eren in his room.” You blabber watching as Armin’s blue eyes were focused on his computer screen which was now showing the science homework you two had and you saw all his little glimpses toward you and your chest but you didn’t say anything and sat there all pretty like you had no clue what he was doing. When for the first time ever you knew.

Whenever Armin talked about things he liked such as the ocean, ‘nerd stuff’, and whatnot, you were the only one who really listened. Like actually listened to the point when he referenced something from previous conversations, you were the only one who remembered every single thing. It was a miracle that no one knew about your crush, well no one cared to say anything because if pretty much any of the guys knew, they’d definitely say something and laugh at you for doing something so stupid that would make Eren murder someone.

Armin’s cheeks turned pink at the mention of Eren and Mikasa's private relations “What about the times he’s not?” You merely shook your head at his question as you watched him solve the science problems easily “It’s still easier to watch you. You’re smarter than Eren.” You said wrapping your arms around Armin’s and leaning against him snuggling your head into his shoulder and you felt Armin tense up at this action but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, (n/n),” Armin said with a sheepish smile as he glanced down at you before back at the computer screen. You placed your other hand on his thigh not wanting to waste any time here because Bertholdt could be back any minute, you didn’t even know where he was but you just didn’t want him to come back anytime soon.

A whimper let out from Armin’s lips as you began to rub his thigh gently moving your hand up closer to his crotch but only subtly though he could tell. Armin could tell anytime you touched him compared to someone else's no matter where you put your hands. Your hands were gentle when they touched him almost like you were scared to touch him. You weren’t.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible and savored every touch you got with him, you were definitely going to savor this night even if it was just a one-time thing “You’ve always been smart Armin…I thought it was cute.” You muttered softly as you looked up at the male who was already looking down at you nervously, his expression was so cute! His flushed face, his nervous gaze, and how he was nearly sweating just by your hand on his thigh.

“I still do y’know.” Your hand trailed up to the waistband of his sweatpants but you didn’t do anything but sink your fingertips past them just pulling them away from his skin and letting it slap back against his soft pale flesh. His skinny hand came down and placed itself on top of yours stopping you as you felt warmness overtake your skin “We–...We shouldn’t do this (n/n).” The blonde male said as he looked down at you like he was scared but he was obviously enjoying it with the movement you felt coming from his sweatpants.

The clacking of his keyboard had stopped and it was now silent in the room “Do you not want to?” You asked slowly drawing your hand away but his hand which was just resting on top of yours now had a tight hold on yours and was holding it in place which startled you, it was a drastic change from how gentle he always was with just his hand on yours.

Armin looked away as if he was ashamed of his actions “I just think Eren would be mad.” You knew that was coming soon, Armin was a lot of things, and stupid was definitely not one of them, not even a little bit and you knew he’d catch onto what you were trying to do and tell you something about Eren and blah blah blah but you obviously didn’t care much for that, only what he really wanted to do.

With his hold on your hand, it’s obvious he didn’t want you to go anywhere but you still had to make sure “But do you want to?” You questioned again ignoring his previous statement about your brother and how he might disapprove of it. Eren was a dick and if he wanted to play that card, you could too. You could be a dick by riding his best friend’s.

Armin stared down at you for a while thinking about what he should say and what it would mean if he said something “Yes but–” With that, your fingers went back to his waistband but this time you were gently pulling them down but not completely yet, just teasingly “...what if eren finds out? He’ll be so mad at me.” Armin continued saying those words he said in high school but a bit differently and the context behind it was very different and not just a small accident.

You glanced down at the band of his Nike Pros before looking back up at him through your lashes “I don’t care. Why do you? You want it right?” Armin was quick to nod at your question making a smile stretch across your glossy lips as you ran the tip of your finger over the Nike Logo on his boxers “Yeah…I guess he doesn’t have to find out, right?” Armin said leaning back in his chair his eyes locked on your fingers just wanting them to inch closer to his crotch nearly bitting into the softness of his pink bottom lip that was almost the same color as the apples of his cheeks that showed his enjoyment and flustered feeling.

You shook your head not breaking eye contact with him “I won’t say anything.” You said seductively allowing your hands to slip past the waistband of his boxers and into the small bush of his blonde pubes before lowering it further to his cock.

Armin’s back arched slightly as he felt your hands wrap around him “I w-won’t say anything either.” He sputtered out as you moved your hand up and down while remaining eye contact with him, god you were such a bitch. Keeping eye contact with him while slowly jerking him off knowing it’d make him more embarrassed and completely bricked.

You leaned up releasing your hold on his arm and pressing a kiss to his lips that were letting out small whimpers and grunts. It grew sloppy very fast with Armin being eager. His hips were bucking up into your hand and his hands were just by his side not knowing where to go or what to touch, maybe your wrist? Your waist? Your shoulder? Or should he just keep them where they were? His mind was full of just you and only you that he couldn’t even think straight and you hadn’t even really begun to do anything yet.

You moaned into his mouth as he did the same before gently pulling away with a thin string of saliva connecting you two, your lip gloss was now on his lips and even around it, you could only imagine what it looked like on your lips now. Armin watched as your head tilted down to the movement you were causing in the confinements of his pants before you looked right back at him tilting your head curiously.

“Can I?” Armin wasn’t sure exactly what you were asking here but he had an idea so he nodded ferociously but when your hand left his pants, he got confused.

When he saw you beginning to take off your panties and shorts in one go, that’s when he caught on and began to do the same. He lifted his hips to slide off his grey sweatpants and then his all-black Nike Pros allowing both of the clothing articles to pool at his ankles as he sat there awkwardly waiting for you.

You grinned up at Armin before transferring yourself to his lap using it as a chair but you were just hovering over him now with your knees on each side of him supporting your body as you lined him up with your dripping cunt.

Armin’s hands instinctively went to your waist as you rested on his shoulders. The male stared up at you as you carefully perfected the lineup to make sure he didn’t miss the hole, he’d wanted you for the longest and he finally was going to get you. I mean, this wasn’t how he was planning on it going down, he was going to ask you out and then you guys would get to this part but this was okay too. It was great actually because he didn’t know if he could wait until you two started to date to get some of you. He definitely could not but good thing you’re a slut right?

A loud moan left your mouth as you slowly lowered yourself onto Armin’s cock making him throw his head back while he leaned back in his chair.

His back arched as you fully sunk, his legs spread allowing you to bottom out as you let out a whimper at Armin’s nails digging into the bare flesh of your hips harshly surely leaving indents there “Are you okay?” Armin asked as he managed to open his eyes and look at you reaching up one of his hands to cup your cheek carefully.

That’s one of the things you loved most about him. He was always thinking about other people. You were sure Armin was losing his mind right now by the way he was scarcely thrusting up into you and the grunts in between his words and yet he was still making sure you were okay when you were way more than okay. Nearly losing yourself in how full you felt but you were still feeling amazing.

You nodded your head as you smiled at him “Of course. Are you?” Armin nodded silently at your question taking in the warmth of being inside you and how tight you were, squeezing him every other second. You began to play with his hair slicking it back and running your fingers through it making a mess of the beautiful blonde locks. You wish you’d been able to do this when he had his long hair but this was just as enjoyable.

Armin leaned in for a kiss again which you happily obliged to. The kiss started sweet and soft as your hands went to his neck holding onto him for support as you began to grind on him rubbing your thighs against his which made the brutal feeling of his nails piercing into your skin grow. You and Armin's tongues fought for dominance with it quickly ending with Armin taking control, you’d like to say you let him but you didn’t. He won the battle and got a little rougher with his win.

He kissed you harsher as he pulled you closer to his body. Armin lifted you taking you by surprise before slamming you back down on him making you shout into the kiss and biting down onto Armin’s lip “Sorry…” You muttered as you broke the kiss watching as Armin touched his bottom lip which was bleeding a bit before looking down at the tip of his finger “It’s fine. Just keep going, baby.” You couldn’t even think of a response and just continued your grinding but this time you were bouncing a bit closing your eyes as you moaned.

Armin’s hand snuck up your shirt and under your bra squeezing your boob roughly as he went and buried his face in your neck kissing and sucking on you, covering the bare skin with purple marks some darker than others. His nails released their hold on your skin and his hand trailed down to your butt harshly groping it as he bit down on your neck smearing the blood of his lip all over your neck.

“Fuck.” You cursed getting quicker with your pace as you fucked yourself on his cock while whimpering like a slut. It’s a little crazy how Armin was just the one that was whimpering a second ago but now you were and he was the cause. 

You never pictured Armin as a rough lover. In your fantasies, he was always so gentle, so calm, his fingers softly trailing over your skin as he whispered comforting words into your ears. Nothing like how he was in reality, biting you, covering you in hickies, creating indents in your skin from how rough he was grabbing you.

You weren’t necessarily complaining, it just took you by surprise and you didn’t know how to react other than with your moans of delight “So pretty. You put this on for me?” Armin asked as he backed away from your neck leaning right back in his chair as he lifted your shirt revealing the lacy bra, you didn’t even say anything and just nodded rapidly while continuing to moan “Was for me to take off or look at ‘cus...I don’t know which one I wanna do.” The blonde cooed looking up at you as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You’ve never really seen Armin look at you like that, you’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. His eyes lidded damn nere closed, lust in his eyes, a smirk on his face and it seemed as if the blue of his eyes were more noticeable than usual. They were practically glowing as they traveled up and down your half-naked body.

“I don’t know…” You blabbered. You couldn’t even remember what you put the bra on for if it was just for him to look at or if it was for him to take it off too. You just wanted to look pretty for him and didn’t think that far ahead into what he would do “C’mon baby…you gotta know.” Armin whispered slapping a hand on your ass and making you jolt up earning a small whimper from him.

If you didn’t know before, you definitely don’t know now with how he was talking to you “W-Which ever you want.” You sputtered out as you slowed down your movements trying to compose yourself your eyes shutting close again.

Armin hummed in delight at your words “Really? I think I’m gonna keep it on you. Makes ‘em look so pretty.” He spoke lowly running one of his fingers over the pattern of the lace, his eyes locked on your boobs less ashamed now. You nodded and hummed as you sat still on him getting more sensitive by the moment just from him being inside of you.

The male’s blue eyes drifted down to where you two were connected and looked back up at you “Baby, you’re gorgeous and I love you but I’m gonna need you to move a little faster f’me.” Armin cooed smiling up at you. It’s not like you were going fast exactly before you stopped but something was better than nothing even if he wanted much more.

You smiled brightly and opened your eyes peering down at him “I love you too Armin.” The blonde let out a laugh and his smile widened. It was no surprise that you only paid attention to that part of his sentence, it looked like there was nothing in that head of yours anymore “You need me to take control? You can just lay there and look pretty, I don’t mind.” He said sweetly tilting his head slightly making his blonde hair sway and it made him look even more pretty.

No matter how much he cut his hair, his golden locks were always so silky especially when they moved in the slightest tilt of his head or the small blow of the wind “No, I-I got it.” You said placing your hands on his chest before beginning to move once more but this time you weren’t grinding with the addition of small bouncing, you were going up and down making slapping sounds echo off the off-white walls with wet sounds following it.

Groans escaped Armin’s throat with some slips of whimpers and whines as he threw his head back, hands gripping your ass as if his life depended on it while your tits bounced in the lacy fabric in his face. Armin’s blue eyes stayed focused on you and didn’t close once, he wanted to keep looking at you and how pretty you looked with your mouth wide open letting out pornographic sounds.

Armin had never admitted it to anyone in the world but he always thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He believed it when he was young and still believed it.

Even though he hadn’t told anyone about it, a few people caught on when he was younger maybe in his elementary or middle school years? He didn’t quite remember but what he did remember was when Eren came to him during their math class and told him about how obvious his feelings for you were. Armin was so embarrassed when that happened and a little devastated by what Eren said but he did it anyway because that was his best friend and he’d do anything for him.

But looking back at that, he was sure he only agreed to that because Eren was his only friend and he was very much a pushover.

“Armin, I know you like my sister.” Eren had told him when sitting down on the empty desk beside the blonde’s with a straight face. Armin’s face went pale and his eyes widened in shock at that moment not knowing what to say as he was just doing long division a second ago.

He dropped his #2 pencil on the worksheet and pushed his glasses up “Don’t lie. I always see you looking at her.” Eren said narrowing his eyes at his friend practically sensing that guilty excuses of denial were soon going to start pouring out of his friend’s mouth “Sorry eren…She’s just…very pretty.” The long-haired boy muttered as he began fumbling with his fingers while looking at his lap refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

Eren sighed as he dropped his head understanding how he was probably making his friend very nervous “I know. I can’t keep those stupid soccer boys away from her.” He grumbled remembering all the times he’s literally had to jump in front of you with his arms in the air yelling for them to back away from his little sister. He didn’t think you were old enough to be dating even though he’s had his fair share of five-day relationships. Eren would use that excuse for you until you were in the eighth grade and would then lay out a list of guys you shouldn’t date because ‘they’re the worst guys ever’ which consisted of soccer guys, basketball guys, and Jean. Jean was the only specific name on there.

Armin glanced up at his friend still nervous as he shuffled in his seat “Look, I don’t care if you like her or anything but don’t date her! I’d love to have you as a brother but she’s super annoying, you deserve better than her.” Eren said with a small pout on his lips making Armin laugh but the blue-eyed boy nodded while agreeing with the conditions “Okay eren. I won’t date her.”

It was stupid how he told Eren that but continued to like you after all this time. Armin was sure that the ‘deserved better than her’ reason had worn off now and was replaced by something like ‘It’s just so gross’ and Armin understood where Eren was coming from now. He and Eren had kissed two times at two separate parties both times with them being basically blackout drunk and of course, you didn’t know, no one knew and that’s the way both of them wanted it to stay, and Eren seeing him start dating his sister after all of that would be very weird for Eren and Armin. Armin still wanted to date you regardless though but was still considering how Eren would feel about it.

But who said he couldn’t fuck you? Eren didn’t have to know about that and if he did find out, it’d just be something to ease him into accepting Armin dating you.

Plus, it’s not like Armin cared very much about what Eren felt now that he was six inches deep inside of the warmth of your soaking cunt.

“Ughn! Shit, you feel so good.” Armin whined loudly as he squeezed his eyes closed feeling a tightness in his stomach but he quickly snapped them back open reminding himself of the beauty in front of him who was quite literally doing all the work to make him and herself feel good. Shit, by the way, you were fucking yourself out, he wouldn’t have cared if you wanted to peg the shit outta him.

The pleasure both of you felt was soon interrupted by a loud ringing of someone’s phone. You opened your eyes and turned your head around slowing the bouncing and resorting to grinding which made Armin hate phones “Who is it?” He asked though it came out as a whine with his heavy breathing. You saw his phone glowing and ringing on the desk which his PC sat on and you squinted trying to see the contact name through the growing tears of pleasure and when you saw it your eyes widened and you let out a whine of frustration.

It was Eren. Stupid Eren being a cockblock once again.

Yeah, you did this whole thing to get back at Eren and take advantage of your anger against your brother to finally do what you’ve wanted to for a while but if he called, you were going to stop. Having your brother listen to you fucking his best friend was disgusting. His finding out about it was a whole other thing and now in the state of mind you were from this dick that made you dumb, you didn’t really care too much about if he’d find out at all.

Fuck, this wasn’t even about getting back at Eren anymore. This was about feeling your desire and your need for the blonde.

“S’ eren…” You muttered turning back to Armin with a saddened look on your face and his eyes widened too seemingly snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in. He took his hand off the flesh of your ass and went to reach for his phone with his hand trembling from the pleasure he was still receiving from your small movements but you placed one of your hands on the desk in front of the phone before he could grab it.

You shook your head as you sped up the pace lifting yourself up and down once more “Don’t get it.” You pleaded looking down at Armin hoping to persuade him to just ignore the call and he didn’t say anything and just stared back at you. He broke eye contact and looked behind you seeing the phone and sighed. He knew Eren was just going to keep calling until he eventually got the idea that he was not going to answer the phone and he’d definitely get scolded for not picking up.

Fuck it. It’s whatever.

“Fine.” The Arlert male said looking back up at you and you smiled slightly before picking up the pace making Armin’s calm manner quickly disappear and back into his little whines and deep groans “Fuck, you killing me.” Armin said with a groan his hand gripping the edge of the desk and his other digging his short nails into your ass once again remaking the marks that had faded.

You leaned down and began placing sloppy kisses onto the fair-colored skin of his neck and he gave you full access with his head being thrown back. Your body pressed further against his with your boobs pressing against his hard chest making you moan onto his neck from the feeling of your sensitive nipples pressing against him.

You could feel yourself inching closer and closer to a release with every second and every bounce. You were falling more in love with Armin as his pretty groans and whimpers filled the silence along with yours, he was so sweet, so gentle yet still so rough but it was the perfect balance.

That balance was pleasurable enough but the sound of your moans mixing with his was like the most perfect lemonade to ever exist. Sweet and Sour, the sour was his occasional deep groans after the sweetness of his whimpers had run out.

Your back arched as you let out a loud whine letting go and cumming all over his cock biting down on his neck as your toes curled.

However, Armin hadn’t cum and he was not done. Not one bit. His other hand came back to your ass and he continued to bounce you up and down even after you had stopped to catch your breath “Sorry…just need this s’bad!” Armin apologized with his voice wavering. You weren’t really sure what he was apologizing for exactly, maybe the increase in roughness? Maybe the sudden force? It didn’t matter because you didn’t care. He was just helping you ride out your orgasm. Well, the rest of it.

Soon you felt his warm seed sputtering inside of you and filling you all up, it seemed endless until it stopped “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Armin asked through his deep breaths, his chest rising and falling under your sweaty palm as you retracted your face from the crook of his neck to look at him breathing just as heavy as he was.

You shook your head lightly “No, m’ okay…” You whispered as you tried to catch your breath and Armin nodded at your answer.

His hands went to your hips much gentler than they were before almost as if you were fine china and it was the first time he was using you and in a way, it was. He lifted you from his limp cock with ease and allowed you to stand to your feet but your legs and feet had fallen asleep by now, it’d be pretty hard to walk home now “What are you doing?” Armin asked as he saw you bending over to grab the clothes you had discarded while he pulled up his Nike Pros but kicked the sweatpants off.

You looked at him not really knowing what to say and just shrugged your shoulders “Can’t leave yet, I still gotta clean you up.” Armin said standing to his feet and swooping you into his arms not asking you or giving you any heads-up so you sat there being carried confused as to what he was doing.

“I just do that myself when I get home.” You said as the blonde carried you to the bathroom kicking open the cracked door before waddling over to the tub “Why? It’s the least I can do, you were practically doing all the work.” Armin said laughing awkwardly as he set you inside the porcelain tub being careful before reaching over and letting you take the remainder of your clothing off before turning on the faucet letting the warm water flow into the tub and onto your feet.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that you had your more than fair share of horrible boyfriends but not everyone in the world knew. Armin and a few of you two’s other friends knew because either you told them or Eren blabbed his mouth to them about every time you’d complain to him about some stupid guy and that’s the reason why Armin knew about almost everything. 

Since the ninth grade, he’d heard from Eren about all the horrible guys you’ve dated who played you, lied, cheated, yelled, even left you stranded at a party and all Armin wished was that you found a guy that actually found the sweetness and greatness in you. He wished more than anything that it would be him.

He dreamed about all the things he’d do for you, to you, and with you, that’d put a smile on your face. All the things you’d deserve that he’d give you even if it nearly killed him.

He wanted that more than ever right now as he looked at you relaxing in the hot water that was filling up the tub very fast. He reached his hand into the tub and grabbed yours holding it comfortingly and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles which made your eyes open and dart to him “I love you (y/n).” Armin spoke softly leaning his cheek against the side of his tub never looking away from you with his light-colored eyelashes fluttering with minor blinks and it seemed as if he was trying to stop blinking so he wouldn’t waste a single second looking away from you.

“I love you too Armin.” You said with a kind smile on your face as you squeezed his hand with his cheeks turning red from your words. Your smile slowly turned from kind to mischievous as your pure thoughts changed to the complete opposite realizing you were naked.

You lifted your foot out of the tub and rested it on the edge which drew the blonde’s attention “Y’know armin…I didn’t learn much from your study session.” You whispered looking back up at Armin who very quickly caught onto what you were trying to say and got incredibly embarrassed “Come on, you’re the one that called it that…” He muttered lifting his head from the side of the tub as he looked away from you his cheeks burning a bright red.

That was true, you were the one who called it that but you both didn’t even attempt to get down to the science. Got down and dirty before Armin could even get to the beginning of the science work “Yeah but I hope we get another one, I actually wanna learn somethin’.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you placed your other leg on the other side of the tub spreading them.

Armin’s eyes were locked on your wet legs as water dripped in droplets from your calves, he wondered if his cum was still there or if it had washed out into the water “What next? Seems like you got biology down pretty good.” He said meeting your eyes again with a smile on his face that matched yours.

“Maybe neuroscience. I can teach you stuff too like what makes girls happy.” Armin almost laughed at how you were referring to serotonin but clearly forgot what it was called, he would’ve if he didn’t watch how the drops of water rolled down your tits to your areolas and down to your tummy.

Armin brought his hand to your leg and rubbed it up and down making you bite down into your lip “I think I know what makes girls happy.” He said his hand growing closer to your crotch moving down to your inner thigh and the ache in your cunt returned practically pulsing as you watched the way he looked at you. Seemed he realized the way you were squeezing around nothing.

You tilted your head as you looked at him sinking deeper into the warm water “Really? What makes me happy then?” You questioned with a whine slipping out with each inch Armin’s hand came closer and his smirk widened as the glowing in his eyes returned as if he was some sort of predator getting ready to pounce and eat you alive.

“Me.”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[oizysian]

Now That I’m With You | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Serial Killer!Wanda Maximoff x Innocent Fem!Reader Warnings: murder, mind control Word Count: 3.5k Genre: smutty, but not too smutty Summary: Y/N moves to Westview and makes some new friends that her neighbor, Wanda, isn’t too happy about.

• Kinktober Masterlist •

I keep having the same dream about the woman a few houses down from me; she’s calling me, beckoning me with a power I can’t explain. I’m drawn to her and I can’t resist her when she calls to me - calls my name so sweetly, so lovingly. Why did I keep having this dream about a woman I barely knew?

Wanda Maximoff was a sweet lady - one of the first people on the block to introduce themselves when I moved into town. She brought over a homemade chocolate cake and introduced herself the same afternoon I moved in.

She had a beautiful smile and the most gorgeous emerald eyes I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but stare when I first saw her, completely enamored by her. She welcomed me to the neighborhood and I knew instantly that as long as she stayed here, I would never leave.

On that same day another woman came to my house to welcome me, bringing over a homemade pie, which I liked a lot less than the cake Wanda had made. Her name was Dolly and she was about my age, maybe a bit older, with a husband and a son. She was very hands on and clearly didn’t believe in personal space, but she was nice.

Dolly came over to my place a few times, friendly visits, just to see how I was settling in and to get to know me. I understood that as I was new to the neighborhood and everyone else already knew each other, so they didn’t want anyone to stay a stranger.

That was two months ago. Dolly was found dead a few days ago, brutally murdered in her living room. They have no idea who would do such a thing to a lady like her. The whole block is on edge now, everyone making sure their doors are locked and their blinds are pulled down.

Except Wanda.

She came over and offered to make me dinner, despite the police all over the place, questioning everyone.

“You have nothing to worry about, you didn’t do it.” She said confidently. “What would you like? Meatloaf? How about a nice pot roast?”

I couldn’t imagine eating at that moment but when I looked at her something switched up in my mind, and suddenly my stomach was growling.

“Pot roast sounds really nice, Miss Maximoff.”

“Please! It’s Wanda! Come on over at around five, okay?”

She smiled and walked away as if there wasn’t yellow tape all over the street and covering the house across the way.

I watched her as she left, the sway of her hips hypnotizing and I couldn’t help but stare at her departing form. Her reddish brown locks bounced as she walked, her steps were delicate and precise. She was perfect.

The honking of a passing car pulled me from my stupor and I turned my attention to the man across the street, Dolly’s husband, speaking to police again.

“A murder in Westview? It’s unheard of!”

A pair of women gossiping were overheard saying as they scurried down the street to their respective houses. They would lock their doors and sleep with one eye open tonight.

But I wouldn’t. I wasn’t afraid. Something inside me told me I was safe, that I would always be safe in Westview, and that I had nothing to worry about anymore.

I realized I’d been standing in my doorway for far too long and decided it was time to go inside and stop looking like a nosey neighbor. It was bad enough that there was a rumor going around that Dolly wasn’t her real name and that she was murdered because she was a secret agent of some kind. How ridiculous people could be when something happens in a small town.

Thoughts of Wanda flooded my mind as I closed my front door behind me. Why did I think of this woman so often? I sighed and rested my forehead against the door. I had to get myself together. Not everything in my life revolved around Wanda.

I tried to push the thoughts of her out of my head, but the harder I tried to think of something or someone else, the stronger the images of her flooded in.

A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts. It was still early in the afternoon so it could’ve been anyone, but most people were just hiding in their houses instead of being social.

I took a deep breath and opened the door to see another one of my neighbors standing there, a smile on her face.

“Hi, Y/N,” Erica greeted me. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, me? I’m-I’m fine. I’m great!” I smiled at her and she looked at me expectantly.

“Can I … come in?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure!” I moved aside for her to enter and she smiled, walking into my house.

“I wanted to come over and invite you over for dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” I turned from the door to face her. “I’m sorry, Erica. I’m going to Miss Maximoff’s house tonight.”

“Miss Maximoff? Oh, you mean Wanda?” She laughed, placing her hand on my bicep. “You’re so polite, it’s cute!”

I smiled nervously back at her, unsure of what to do.

“Well, what about tomorrow night?”

“Um, I’m not sure, I -”

“I can make you a better dinner than Wanda could. Come on. Give me a chance.”

I looked at her smiling face and tried to smile back, the thoughts of Wanda swimming in my head again as I stared at her. I pushed the thought of her out of my mind and nodded at Erica.

“Okay. Dinner tomorrow.”

“Great! Tomorrow, say six-ish?”

I nodded and opened the door for her. She smiled brightly, she kissed me on the cheek before leaving. I watched her leave, shocked that she had kissed me, even if it was just a kiss on the cheek.

She walked down the street, a purposeful sway in her hips, and I stared at her, my mind swimming once again with the image of Wanda walking away from me earlier. Erica definitely didn’t have the same sex appeal that Wanda had, and she certainly didn’t have the same sensual sway. Damn it, why couldn’t I stop thinking about Wanda?

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I closed the door and sighed. I didn’t have to be at Wanda’s for a few hours, so I had time to shower and get ready. I wanted to look my best for her, so naturally I’d wear something nice and wear my best perfume.

I headed into my bedroom to pick out my nicest outfit from my closet and get prepared for my shower. I stood and stared at my clothing before a little voice in my head told me she’d definitely like my little black skirt and a cute pink tank top. Whose voice was that? It wasn’t mine …

Deciding that arguing with the voices in my head was a little unhinged, I grabbed my clothing and headed into the bathroom, getting my towels and washcloths in preparation for my shower. A nice, hot shower would do wonders for my nerves.

I undressed and adjusted the water, stepping under the hot spray and getting myself wet. Why was I worried about what Wanda thought of my outfit? It was just dinner. Not a date. She was married to that Vision guy anyway. What kind of name was Vision anyway?

After scrubbing myself clean, I got out and dried off, realizing quickly that I had been in the shower for much longer than I had intended, and now I had to get dressed and go. How did time move so quickly.

I rushed to dress, sniffing all of my different perfumes and colognes before finally choosing one that was a little on the sweet side. She’ll love it.

I made my way through the rooms of my house, grabbing all of the things I would need for the evening; my keys, my shoes - got it all.

I put my shoes on and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I left the house, locking the door behind me and making my way down the block.

It was a cool evening and it made for a pleasant walk. Wanda lived only a few houses down from me, so I didn’t have far to walk late at night. I rarely wore skirts, so I was slightly uncomfortable as I made my way up her walkway. What made me wear such a skimpy outfit anyway?

Before I could process the regret, I made it to her front door, ringing the bell as I flattened down my skirt. Why did I wear this?!

The door swung open not seconds after I rang the bell, revealing Wanda looking absolutely gorgeous behind it.

Her hair was curled, falling down along her shoulders and she was wearing a red dress, which matched her red lipstick.

I licked my lips nervously and smiled, trying my hardest to look into her beautiful eyes instead of her inviting chest.

“You’re right on time, darling.” She said, her voice silky smooth.

She moved to the side and allowed me to enter. I looked around at her decor, noting the family picture of her, Vision, and her two boys. Where were they?

“Vision and our sons, Billy and Tommy, are out seeing a movie. It’s boys' night.” She sighed, but I saw little to no disappointment in her eyes.

How did she know what I was thinking?

“You look lovely.” She purred as she closed the door behind us, grabbing me gently by the arm and guiding me into the dining room. “And you smell divine.”

Okay, weird, but -

“Thank you,” I couldn’t help but blush ever so slightly. “You look great too. Gorgeous, even.”

“You’re such a charmer, Y/N.” She smiled, leading me to a chair and allowing me to sit. “I’ll be right back with dinner. You just relax.”

I would not be relaxing. I took a deep breath as she left the room, inhaling her vanilla perfume and letting it get to my head, almost making me dizzy. She really smelled nice.

“Here we are,” she returned before I could even process that she was gone. “My world famous pot roast. I know you’ll love it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I smiled brightly, watching as she walked back into the kitchen to retrieve whatever she left behind.

It smelled absolutely delicious. My mouth was watering as I shifted in my seat, suddenly very restless.

The table was set beautifully, complete with candles and matching silverware and china. It was breathtaking and I was shocked she did all of this for me.

She returned with mashed potatoes and spinach, placing it down in front of me and brushing her hand along my arm. I looked up at her, noting that she was definitely staring at my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this shirt.

“I love your top.” She said as she sat down. “It’s a lovely shade of pink.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, bringing my attention to the table. “This is very beautiful. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It was no trouble, sweetheart!” She began serving us, giving me a hearty helping of everything and I couldn’t help but almost start drooling at the sight.

“This looks amazing.” I said as I dug in as delicately as I could under the circumstances, as I was starving and it all smelled divine.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

We had a pleasant conversation over dinner. She offered me some wine, which I normally didn’t drink, but gratefully accepted, having one or two glasses before I felt my cheeks flush and I knew it was time to stop.

“Can I help you with the dishes? It’s the least I can do.”

I stood from the table and grabbed my dirty dish, and she shook her head, standing as well.

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I’ll feel bad if you have to do them after cooking such a delicious meal.”

Her gaze softened and she picked up a few dishes off the table, leading me to the kitchen. I placed the dishes in the sink and started to wash, humming softly to myself as she continued to bring in what we left behind.

“You’re so cute.” She said as she slid up behind me, putting her wine glass in the sink.

I could feel her press herself up against me, her hands at my hips, sliding up and down my thighs. I felt her breasts against my back, my heart pounding fast as her hot breath hit the back of my neck.

“Absolutely adorable.”

She gripped at my hips and I gasped softly, nearly dropping the glass I was washing as she thrust herself up against me. I imagined that, right? She didn’t just -

Her pelvis hit my ass again and I let out a small whimper, grabbing onto the edge of the sink as she continued to hump my ass.

“W-Wanda …” I whispered and she shushed me, gasping softly into my ear as she pressed herself against me again.

“I want to thank you,” she breathed softly. “For being such a good girl.”

My head was foggy with the smell and feel of her. I couldn’t think about anything but her body pressed against my own. Suddenly, the thought of Vision and the boys entered my head and I shook myself out of my lust filled daze.

“I-I should really go.” I said as I turned off the water, her hips still thrusting into mine.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” She kissed my earlobe and I shivered. “I’m not done thanking you.”

I could feel her hands slipping up my skirt, her fingers pressing against my slit as she groped me through my panties.

“It’s late,” I tried to reason with her. “And I’m seeing Erica tomorrow so I really should go.”

“Erica?” She hissed into my ear, her hand cupping my covered sex. “Wouldn’t you rather be with me?”

“Y-yes,” I whimpered. “But, I made a promise.”

“Break it.” She pressed her lips to my neck and I used all my willpower to slide out from under her.

“This was lovely, Wanda, really.” I was aching painfully. “But I really need to go.”

She pouted, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving - she looked so fuckable.

Before I lost control over myself again, I rushed to her front door, nearly running out as I made my way down the block. What the hell just happened?

•

I laid in bed, thinking about what happened at Wanda’s. She was married, with kids! Why would she do that? Did I imagine it? No, her hands were …

I bit my lip and slid my hand down inside my panties, my eager fingers circling my throbbing clit. The feel, the smell of Wanda still lingered, and I couldn’t help but touch myself at the thought of her.

I closed my eyes and it felt as if a mist washed over me, and all I could see inside my mind was Wanda doing the same, her hips rising slightly off the bed as she pleasured herself at the remembrance of touching me so intimately.

“W-Wanda …” I whimpered softly into the darkness, my hips bucking as I brought myself to the quickest orgasm of my life.

In my mind, she came saying my name, sweat built up on her furrowed brow, her hips still moving as she worked herself up once again.

I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes and stop watching her. Something compelled me to stay inside my mind which was completely filled with Wanda - her smell, her feel … her taste?

My imagination was clearly running wild as I could almost taste her, sweet and musky on my tongue. I moaned softly, my fingers slipping into my wetness as I thought of Wanda sitting on my face, letting me pleasure her the way only I was meant to.

In my mind, she came multiple times already, begging me to both stop and for more. I was addicted to her. I needed more, more, more.

I opened my eyes as I came and everything was dark red. It took a moment for my vision to focus before the darkness of the room came back into sight. I panted softly, slipping my hand out of my panties and standing shakily from the bed so I could go to the bathroom. I really needed to get a hold of myself. This couldn’t be healthy.

•

It was nearly dinner time as I made my way over to Erica’s. She lived farther away than Wanda, but her house was still within walking distance. I was feeling uneasy about going there. I really had wanted to be with Wanda again, but I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to resist her if she made a move on me again. I wasn’t sure how I resisted her the first time. Something was constantly pulling me towards her, physically and mentally.

I knocked on Erica’s door, waiting patiently to be let in. No answer. That was weird considering she was expecting me. I rang the doorbell, thinking maybe she didn’t hear me knock.

A few moments passed and I decided to see if the door was unlocked. Maybe she was in trouble. I turned the knob and the door opened. I stepped in cautiously, looking around as I entered.

“Erica?” I called out, walking further into the house.

I made it to the kitchen where I found her, on the floor in a pool of her own blood. I was stunned. I had no idea what I should do. I looked around, finding a knife nearby on the ground and blood smeared everywhere.

I rushed over to the phone and dialed 911. After telling them everything and them ordering me to stay where I was and not touch anything, I quickly realized I was now a suspect.

I hung up the phone and stared at her body. There was so much blood and she was completely mauled. Her eyes were still open and she was lying face up.

The pot on the stove was bubbling over and the table was set. Before any other observations could be made, I heard the sirens, and soon I was completely surrounded by police.

They questioned me for hours, grilling me about why I had gone to Erica’s house in the first place and where I was when she was killed. I had no answers for them, unable to help and insisting upon my innocence.

Once they said that I could go, I went straight to Wanda’s, having no one else I could turn to. I rang her bell frantically, almost in hysterics once she opened the door.

“Y/N, honey, what’s the matter?” She asked as she ushered me in, leading me into the living room and onto one of her plush couches.

“E-Erica is dead.” I stammered, looking up into her concerned eyes.

“I know, darling, it’s going to be alright.”

I tried to control my breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply, attempting to calm myself down. It was hitting me all at once and I couldn’t believe I had seen a dead body.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/N, alright? I’m here. You’re with me and I’m here.”

She took me into her arms and I melted in her embrace, my face pressed against her breasts. She smelled like home and suddenly nothing really mattered but her. Erica’s death was irrelevant now that I was in Wanda’s arms.

“That’s my good girl.” She cooed, stroking my hair. “I’m here.”

Before I lost all sense of self in her presence, her previous words struck me funny. She knew Erica was dead? How could she know?

“I know,” she said, answering me before I could even ask her. “Because I killed her.”

I pulled away from her, staring up into her deep, emerald eyes. She killed Erica? But why?

“Because she thought she could have you, when you belong to me.”

She was reading my thoughts. I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to regain control over my mind, when I felt her hands on my cheeks, caressing them gently.

“It was all for you, Y/N. I couldn’t let them come between us.”

“Them?”

“Dolly, Erica, and anyone else who stands in my way.”

“Dolly too?” I was stunned.

There was no way Wanda, the woman that I had been completely obsessed with, could be a murderer.

“Shh,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Your mind is racing. Let me take care of you.”

Her eyes turned red and everything felt better. It was good that they were dead. They were trying to take me away from Westview. Away from Wanda.

“They were bad people. You’re safe now.”

I threw myself into her arms, letting her hold me close. But, wait …

“What about Vision?”

“About who?”

I looked at her, confused, then I noticed the photo on the table no longer featured a man, but me. All the photos in the house replaced Vision with me and then suddenly … who?

“I-I don’t know.” What was I even talking about?

“Are you feeling okay, honey? Maybe you need to lay down.”

“No, I-I feel fine now. I’m fine now that I’m with you, Wanda.”

•

@natashaswife4125, @poison-blackheart, @aemilia19, @claxre-bear, @dorabledewdroop

[tossawary]

You know, the more I think about it, the funnier I find the concept of Monkey D. Luffy /& Boa Hancock (especially paired with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy and Aro-Ace spectrum Hancock) just for what it must look like from an outsider's POV.

For the record, personally, my favorite Luffy ship is Zoro/Luffy - also with Aro-Ace spectrum Luffy, that's basically non-negotiable for me, I don't care whether he's sex-favorable or sex-repulsed, but he's definitely ace. It is so funny to me to think about Luffy's incredible pull with aro-ace spectrum folks. People who once thought "sucks for you fuckers obsessed with sex and/or romance, I'm built different" (Roronoa Zoro, Koby, Trafalgar Law, Boa Hancock, Bartolomeo, etc.) find themselves fascinated by this little rubber man, who regularly declares war on the government and can swallow a roast chicken whole. Some of them are happier about this than others. Some of them WISH they just wanted to fuck or marry him, that would make more sense than this shit.

But, okay, back to Luffy and Hancock (as a friendship or queerplatonic situationship, whatever, doesn't matter). Like, let's pretend this is some kind of Modern College AU (Luffy is probably not IN college, tbh, he's just there to hang out with his friends and for any food anyone makes the mistake of leaving out). You are on your way to class and you see this woman walking down the street and she is - hands down - the Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

Super tall, with incredibly long, muscular legs in shockingly high red heels, a short skirt, artful cleavage, a waterfall of sleek black hair, beautiful face, striking makeup, gorgeous jewelry. Looks too old to be an undergrad student. She looks like if a martial artist became a supermodel. Walks like that too. The phrase "please step on me" comes to mind, but not to the lips, because that's sexual harassment, and also this woman looks like she could stab you through the heart with a kick and her shoe heel, killing you instantly.

She sees someone and her entire face lights up. She runs forward (how is she running in those shoes) squealing in excitement and embraces this guy you didn't even notice before, shouting about how much she missed him, and kisses him on the lips. He is... uh... three-quarters of her height at the tallest. A real Mr. Short King.

Wow, he has a babyface. And a scar on his cheek and on his chest, which you can see because he's wearing an open button-up, in eye-searing rainbow colors and decorated with monkeys, and jorts with fur at the cuffs. And mismatched flip-flops on the wrong feet. And a straw hat on a string around his neck. It looks like he hasn't brushed his hair today. It is impossible to judge his looks because his outfit is too distracting. Now the Most Beautiful Woman in the World is blushing bright pink as she clasps one of his hands in both of hers. Mr. Short King is using his other hand to pick his nose as she talks.

They walk hand in hand together over to where an incredibly expensive-looking bright red car is parked. Mr. Short King opens the driver's door for the Most Beautiful Woman and she apparently nearly swoons at this chivalry. She climbs into the driver's seat and he gets into the passenger's side (Luffy cannot legally drive and also cannot actually drive). They drive off together. What the fuck kind of Roger-and-Jessica-Rabbit-ass Sugar Mama relationship did you just witness?

Boa Hancock keeps a photograph of Luffy as her phone background and also on her desk at work. Everyone is always like, "Is that your... son?" And Hancock is like, "No, that's my number one choice of future fiancé! Isn't he sooooo handsome?" And people can only be like, "...Okay, but why are there police lights in the background? And something is on fire? It kind of looks like he's in the process of being arrested..." And Hancock responds dreamily, "They didn't catch him! He climbed into my exercise duffel bag and I carried him out."

[wileys-russo]

whenever you have the time i would love some more katie blurbs 🫶🏻 she’s just like an annoying little gf but also she’s the biggest lover girl ever ( off the pitch;) )

the type to roast you and then boost your ego so high it’s seeing stars, who dumps her laundry on you but then its like “if you even try to fold that for me i’ll hurt you”

lovergirl II k.mccabe x reader

"babe? i'm back." you yelled out as you shouldered the door open, hands full of groceries as you heard footsteps hurry downstairs. "oi i told you to text me when you were out the front!" katie rolled her eyes, pecking you on the lips as she hurried to grab the bags from you.

"is there more?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, moving herself to block you from leaving the kitchen. "yes and i am more than capable of grabbing them. just-" but you were speaking to an empty room as katie sprinted out the front door and to your car.

shaking your head with a smile of amusement you started to pack things away, hearing your car lock and katie hurry back inside, arms laden with bags which she dumped on the counter.

"katie!" you laughed suddenly as the irishwomans tanned and toned arms wrapped around you, pulling you away from the fridge. "what are you-" she cut you off with a kiss, gently pushing you to sit down at the island bench.

"you just sit here and look beautiful. i'll put everything away! nice little show for ya." the girl grinned cheekily, stealing another kiss and darting around the kitchen putting the shopping away. "your bum looks good in those shorts." you smiled, resting your chin on your hand.

"i know." the taller girl winked as you rolled your eyes at the blatant cockiness which was nothing new to you. "nope!" you whine as she snatches your phone from your hand the moment it leaves your pocket, slipping it into her own as your eyes bore into hers.

"give it." you held your hand out, the irishwoman only high fiving you with another wink, turning to continue putting away the last few things you'd bought. "oh stop your poutin. you don't need it!" katie grinned, suddenly appearing beside you and spinning you around in your chair, standing in between your legs.

"i do actually, you're quite boring." you smiled smugly at how her confidence faltered for a minute, hands laying dormant on your knees. "oh is that so?" she pulled away, grabbing your phone out as you frowned.

"what are you doing?" "calling your ma and inviting her over for dinner, since i'm so boring i figure you'll want some lively company."

"katie no!" your eyes widened as you jumped off your seat and charged at her, you loved your mum dearly but she was easily one of the most infuriating people you'd ever known.

the woman had next to no boundaries and no ability to respect anyone else's, especially yours, even going as far as to always ask about if your sex life was healthy and make suggestions of how to spice it up which amused your girlfriend to no end.

"i'm just trying to give you a nice eventful night darlin, since i'm so boring." the older girl smirked, pausing for a moment to lift your phone to her ear and your eyes widened hearing the dial tone start to ring.

"katie alison mccabe i swear to god-" you launched yourself over the back of the sofa, jumping on her and wrapping an arm around her neck as you struggled to stay on.

"catherine? oh hi its katie! ya alright?" the brunette started, grunting as you squeezed your arm tighter around her neck, her own spare arm stretching around her back and trying to push you off.

"hang up right now!" you ordered firmly, still fighting to cling on and desperately trying to wrench your phone from her ear. "how have i been? oh i've been grand thanks! and you?" she continued with a slight wheeze as you attempted to choke her out.

giving up on trying to throw you off she switched tactics and fell backwards onto the sofa, her body now laying on top of yours and keeping you somewhat pinned down as you thrashed and swore at her.

"oh that? that's nothing, we're just doing some light boxing at training and the girls can get carried away sometimes." katie pressed herself more into you as your fingers finally wrapped around your phone, her hand gripping your bicep so you couldn't pull it away from her ear.

"hang up!" you demanded again, headbutting the back of her shoulder several times making her laugh. "i'm not even on the phone, dickhead." she showed you the screen and that she'd dialed herself which had of course rang out.

"get off me you stupid stubborn-" you started to rant, cut off by her hand coming down over your mouth. "bold of you to assume my hands are clean baby." the taller girl grinned as you licked her hand in an attempt to get her to remove it.

wrenching it away you kicked her off of you and hastily stood, dragged back down immediately as she moved herself on top of you. "get off!" you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring upward at her.

"no, you're actually quite comfortable." your girlfriend teased, settling her full body weight on top of you as you smacked her shoulders.

"throw me off then, you're always going on and on about how strong ya are. with these pathetic little noodles!" she tutted, squeezing your arms as you scoffed and tried to shove her off but it was to no use as the brunette yawned and faked checking her watch as if bored by your attempts.

"katie!" you whined, going limp and giving up with a sigh, arm coming to rest across your face. "yes?" she sang out, holding herself up with her hands either side of your head. "you're so irritating." you mumbled into your arm, her face hovering just above yours.

"god you're so sweet to me, what a lucky woman i am." she gasped with a sarcastic smile, pushing your arm away from your face and pressing her forehead against yours. "hi." she smiled, eyes milimetres from your own as you sighed. "hi."

"i love you." she grinned, pecking your lips sweetly. "thats nice." you watched as her smile quickly turned into a frown. "oi say it back!" "okay, i love me too." "you cheeky fuckin-" you cut her off with a proper kiss, arms wrapping around her neck as her body settled comfortably on top of yours, your lips melding together perfectly.

"we have more chores to do lover." you pulled away, smacking at her bum with your hands and tapping her shoulders for her to sit up.

"no i told you i would do them! you ran your arse off yesterday and netted the banger which won us the match." katie rolled off of you as the two of you sat up, her calloused hands pushing you back down as she stood.

"my superstar you're not lifting a finger. rest those gloriously sexy legs please, you're lucky i even let ya go and do the shopping." she complimented, grinning happily as your cheeks blushed red at her words.

"put somethin on, one of your stupid love in the dark secret island or whatever rubbish thats called." she tossed you the remote, bending down to feverishly kiss you, pulling away far sooner than you'd have liked, shoving your head to the side playfully as she left.

"its called love island!" you shouted after her. "don't care!" she yelled back from the laundry.

but you knew she did, every time she would make a show of kicking in her heels and begging not to watch it. then once she'd given in with a dramatic sigh and made herself the unsung selfless hero who was sacrificing a night of quality television programming for some mindless reality rubbish, she'd cuddle up with you and ten minutes in was asking endless questions, interest fully peaked and completely engrossed much to your amusement.

"babe!" you yelled out as a basketful of clean washing was dumped on top of you from behind, yanking off a pair of your girlfriends boxers from your head and glaring at her.

"you fold a single thing and i'll break your hands woman." the brunette warned, darting back to the laundry and returning with another basket.

"don't you-" but it was too late as yet again the still warm clothing buried you, katie peeling off a hoodie to reveal your scowl as she took a seat on the lounge beside you.

you rolled your eyes and continued to pull off the clothing which had rained down on you. "no! i said i'll do it." your girlfriend suddenly smacked your thigh as you whined and kicked out at her.

"what do you expect me to just sit here with your underwear on my head, buried in your kits with a mountain of odd socks in my lap?" you scoffed in disbelief at the request.

"yes. like my own little laundry tree!" katie teased, moving to quickly remove and place everything back in the basket at her feet. "every day i start to question more and more why im so in love with you." you sighed, gaze returning to the tv as your girlfriends laugh echoed around the room.

"cause you enjoy staring at my bum when i walk round the house in my sexy little shorts, doing all the housework like a good loyal house wife." katie grinned, slowly moving herself closer to you as you shook your head.

"what's that make me then?" you questioned, lips tugging into a smile as your girlfriend grabbed your hands and pulled you to sit on her lap.

"my trophy wife of course. i get to show you off what with your gorgeous eyes, tecchy little football skills and crackin personality, and call you mine, which makes me the real winner." she smiled softly, again causing your cheeks to heat up at the compliments.

"no ring, no wife." you quickly clipped back holding up your empty hand. "not yet, maybe if you're patient." katie smirked, hand on the back of your neck as she pulled you into a bruising kiss.

though she shoved you off before things became too passionate, brushing your complaints off with a reminder she had laundry to fold making you roll your eyes as how quickly she could switch between being charming and insufferable.

"so...whose coupled up this week then? fill me in."

[wonderjanga]

I love your headcanons!!! Do you think that with Fawcett being a time bubble and magical influence and when new technology is introduced to the city that it changes? Like the engineers study magic as well due to the proximity to the Rock of Eternity? I'd imagine like perpetual motion machines do exist and parts of the plumbing system are fantastical magic animals. Like the old telephone wires are autonomous snake-like entities that Marvel has to untangle sometimes. (They do get tangled up). It's all very surreal and dream logic stuff.

I would love to see what's under the hoods of their cars. Do they run on pixie dust or dragon tears? Are there small sprites keeping it all together?

I’ve actually never really thought about this but here are some ideas! I think they would study magic when getting engineering degrees cause I’m pretty sure they’d just think of it as apart of engineering maybe. Like for example, when building houses they’d make fairy doors in certain places. I also think that instead of Lightbulbs for street lamps they hire fairies every night to make themselves light up. They get payed in pretty stones. Detectives can hire ghosts to help solve crimes. I think their cars run on either, but they’d be higher quality gas so most people would use normal gas. I also think there would be lawyers who work specifically with cases about fae. There’s gonna be lawyers to get that first born back. People might use magical herbs in everyday cooking too. Like someone might get a dried leaf called mystic petals because when ground up, they taste similar to sugar. (The plant makes hair, skin, and eye color more vibrant) One of the teachers at an elementary school is a Lich that has nothing better to do but teach. Or a Centaur works as a PE teacher. I also think that Fawcett could be so affected by magic that the buildings and sidewalks could be sentient. Like a little kid’s about to trip on a crack and the pavement moves the crack out of the way. Or someone who’s vandalizing a building gets hit in the face when the building pushes a brick out. Certain roads seal up their potholes, and maybe Billy is running down an alley being chased or something and the alley walls close up behind him cutting his pursuers off. The flowers grow all year around in a certain part of a city, it could be hot all the time in another, it could snow frequently in another, and trees could start turning orange and letting leaves fall in another because of the presence of spring, summer, fall, and winter fairies who split Fawcett up into small kingdoms. Billy oversees their diplomatic affairs. You find Santa at the grocery store buying cookie mix because “it’s cheaper here than at the North Pole”. The Spirit of Halloween would start pestering people in beginning of September to put up their Halloween decorations. The Easter Bunny would be a local attraction to go see, as it would be in a meadow every Easter making eggs and giving them to other bunnies to go hide. There’d be tones of restaurants in Fawcett with from from multiple creatures. You can go to a small place on 45th, where you can order from fairies who make sandwiches and soups using traditional fairy recipes and herbs. Or a small stand ran by orcs who sell Owlbear on a stick and roasted Blood Hawk legs. There could be a pair of yetis who sell snow cones using snow from the Himalayas. They have human flavors like grape, and yeti flavors using fruits grown from their tribes. When zombies crawl out of their grave, there’s insurance for both the damage to the coffins and the ruined grave and for people who get bitten. Doctors tweaked the polio vaccine for zombification. Wind elementals help people they favor when they fall. Water elementals help move snow from roads. Earth elementals help with construction. Fire elementals help melt down metals for jewelry stores and factories. Harpies sing for crowds. Gelatinous Cubes can be used as lubricants for machinery and extremely strong glues. I also think the rock messed with time. There are dinosaurs displayed at the zoo. Certain buildings look like they’re from different eras. Gothic architecture, favored by vampires. Victorian architecture. Neoclassical architecture. Also there are wyvern. Though they’re all the size of vultures. They’d have multiple different scale colors which have been made into jewelry or bags. Animal rights activists heavily protested that, and did the same thing they would do to mink coats in the 90’s to the dragon scale items. They threw paint on them. Mimics have exterminators to sniff them out. Shapeshifters wear certain tags while in magical form so they won’t get flagged for animal patrol. There’s also a bunch of other races such as lamia, gorgons, lizard people, homuncules, and goblins.

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Chapter Eleven - For Good

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more, please visit here.

Author's note: a lot has happened since i last updated. my childhood dog died (Theodore is based on him), I started my first semester of college, I finished my first semester of college, I started watching Arcane (sevika is my wife), i fell in love with wicked, and I turned nineteen. I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting.

Previous Chapter

The last time Abby felt this happy was when her dad took her to the county fair seven years ago. The rush she felt when she saw the bright rainbow lights on the Ferris wheel was the same feeling she got when she looked into your eyes. Your lips, so soft and plump, melted against hers like chocolate on a s'more roasting over the fire. 

She could smell the conditioner that you use right under her nose. The sunlight shined through the small sliver between the curtains, blinding her as she slowly blinked awake. Abby let a small smile grace her lips as she felt your weight beside her. Your couch felt better than her own bed at home. It reeled her in and begged her to stay a little longer, but she couldn’t. There were things that she needed to do today. 

Abby never wanted to be near Owen ever again. He had caused her so much pain and sorrow that she felt like he had irreparably damaged her. Beat her down so that she would stay with him. She had been a doormat for his cheating and abuse for far too long. She should have broken it off for good when he got Mel pregnant, but she was so naive back then. Now, she finally has something good, and she doesn’t want to fuck it up. 

Abby slowly gets off the couch, careful not to wake you, and walks to the door. She looks back at you, admiring how calm you look. Theodore jumps onto the couch and settles in Abby's previous spot. Abby winks at the dog, a silent plea for him to watch over you. Theodore sneezes, and Abby takes that as her answer. He’ll be there for you when Abby isn’t. 

She is going to break up with Owen. 

She scared. He could make the rest of her life in Bellevue - in the entire state of Washington a living hell. She could lose her spot as captain and kiss college goodbye, but it would all be worth it because she gets to be with you. 

She turns onto a street a few blocks away from her house. Abby’s been down this road one time. After securing her spot as cheer captain, Mel threw a party junior year. It was a night filled with dancing, alcohol, beer, and caring for Owen. Abby shudders when she remembers the smell of the place. At least one hundred sweaty teens were stuck inside the first floor of Mel’s home. The windows stayed closed, and no one was allowed outside. Abby’s grateful Ellie became the school’s resident party thrower. A guest bedroom, an outside patio with a pool, fully functional windows, and pre-rolled joints were always at her disposal. 

Abby parks her car and walks to the front door. It’s a Sunday, so most people in the suburbs attend church, but not Mel. The shame of being pregnant and unwed has cost her too much. At first, she boasted about the fact that she was pregnant with Owen’s baby, but when reality set in, she became quiet and timid. She hasn’t been at school for weeks. 

Abby knocks on the door, and footsteps are heard walking to the door. Mel looks through the peephole and sighs. 

“What do you want?” Mel asks. 

“I want to talk.” 

The door swings open, and Mel, dressed in a long nightgown, steps aside, “Do you want to come in?” 

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll make it quick.” Abby bites the inside of her cheek and speaks again, “Why’d you do it? You knew he was with me, and you still did it? You kept his fucking baby, Mel? Why”

Mel sighs and bites her lip. “I don’t know. I was stupid, and I wanted to feel something. Owen made me feel seen. Everyone thinks I’m a lesbian because of my haircut, but I’m not! He made me feel beautiful.” 

“He made you feel beautiful, so you let him get you pregnant?” 

“That’s not-” Mel sighs. “I feel like this is my karma. This is what I get for being the other woman.” 

“It’s not entirely your fault.” Abby puts her hand on Mel’s shoulder. “Good luck, Mel.” Abby gets back into her car and sighs. She laughs at all the sighing she’s done today and starts her car. Knowing what comes next, she’ll need some laughter in her life. 

Abby walks into Owen's house. She never knocks; she never needs to.

Mr. Moore, Owen’s dad, is sitting on the couch in the living room. He is the spitting image of his son. All-American man with blonde hair instead of brown. The beer he holds in his hand is half gone, and the football game on the TV is left unwatched as he snoozes in the loveseat. Owen is in his room as expected. The curtains are drawn, and his room is bathed in darkness. The fact that it’s three pm and he is still asleep doesn’t surprise Abby. 

She pokes his shoulder repeatedly, urging him to wake up. Owen slowly blinks awake, his eyes squinting as he tries to see through the darkness. 

“Who’s there?” his tired voice asks. 

“Me.” “Abby?”

“Yeah,” she says matter of factly. “We need to talk.” 

Owen nods, and his head falls back onto his pillow. “I’m serious, Owen. This is important.” 

Owen nods against the pillow and turns away from Abby. Abby grumbles and crosses her arms. If he wants to act like a child, she’ll treat him like one. That doesn’t mean she’ll be nice, in fact, she feels the spirit of Miss Truchbull posses her. 

“We’re done.” Abby crosses her arms, “for good.”

“Okay,” he says sarcastically.

“I mean it this time, Owen. You better get your shit from my house, or else I’ll burn it. I’ll burn everything you’ve ever given me, from that fake bouquet of flowers to that jersey you signed by Russell Wilson.” 

Owen gets up from his bed as if it had just been set on fire.“What the fuck are you talking about right now?” 

“We’re done, for good! Your stuff will be in a big black trash can outside my house. Get it by tomorrow, or else you’ll never see it again.” 

“We’ve gone through this before, Abby. You’ll just come crawling back to me.” 

Abby shakes her head. “I have something this time that I didn’t have all those other times.” Abby thinks of you: of last night, this morning, last week, last month, and the first time she saw you. 

“What? A lawyer?”

Abby laughs in his face and walks away in utter disbelief at Owen’s stupidity. He’ll soon notice that she’s through with him and his antics.

Abby skips down the stairs of Owen’s house for the last time. She’s dreamt of this moment. Usually, it ends with his house blowing up and her walking away like Heath Ledger in The Dark Night. 

Abby’s head hits the steering wheel, and she jumps a little when the horn honks. She sighs for what feels like the hundredth time today and closes her eyes. She’s done. She’s done with his bullshit, she’s done with feeling sorry for Mel, and she’s done with denying her feelings for you. 

Theodore barks at a car passing by your house, startling you awake. You scan your surroundings for any sign of life and realize that you are home alone. Your phone chimes, and you check it. The brightness is turned all the way up, temporarily blinding you. You squint your eyes and press the notification. 

Abby: Owen and I are done for Good. 

You shut your phone off and pet Theodore’s soft fur. You close your eyes and smile with contentment as your new life in Washington is finally looking up. 

Tag list: @rew1nds @colbyweirdo

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter

[catsushinyakajima]

I’m sitting by a trash can at the bus stop waiting for the bus for the past TWENTY minutes and I am also late to class (my own fault for going to the gym instead of heading to class early :/) SO ANYWAYS-

Voltron headcanons (realistic and college AU, also inspired by my own college misery):

- they’re all stem nerds. All of them. I know a lot of people HC them as liberal arts major which is great! but they are canonically astronauts (one part of canon that I like)

- Lance would be the kind of guy to be like “WE GOTTA HIT THE GYM EVERYDAY THIS SEMESTER RAHHHH” and then dip the second midterms start. Every single semester. Without fail.

- Keith found lectures useless since he could just “read the textbook”. He never showed up to a single class except for exams and somehow passed. He only stopped the habit when multiple friends scolded him for it.

- Coran would be in twenty different clubs. Correction: he would be PRESIDENT of twenty different clubs. No one knows when he joined them. The clubs range from archery to competitive coding to mental health awareness. (“Hey Coran are u free tonight?” “No sorry, the Roleplaying Ancient Romans club is having a bake sale tonight” “the what-)

- hunk would do a LOT of volunteering. He’s probably cook for shelters but I can also see him tutoring underprivileged kids in engineering :)

- Pidge would have a surprising amount of school spirit. Not bc she likes the college or the sport. She just wants to hate on the other teams. Also if her tuition is going to the football coach’s salary, she might as well be passionate about it.

- Allura is a triple major. Maybe even a quadruple major?? She’s the girl you see constantly stressing about their schedule. “Okay so should I take this class…that makes me have eight classes total all back to back” “WHAT” “what if I did a minor in psychology?” “Allura how tf are you going to fit that in there”

- Shiro is a TA (teaching assistant) for calculus or physics or something. Because the world hates him it’s an eight am class where the professor teaches wrong content and then dumps twenty hours of grading on him. “So you find the derivative under the curve” “Professor that’s not-“ You will never see him without a coffee.

- Hunk has beef with the Dining halls. They don’t season their food and they don’t even have much to begin with. On the other hand, Lance practically lives there. He’s making the most of the meal plans he paid for.

- At least he sticks to tastier things. Keith, who also practically lives at the dining hall, will eat salt and pepper chicken four times a day (“it’s protein”)

- it’s how Keith and Lance have had most of their meals together. Notably, also alone.

- aside from living at the dining hall, Keith also lives at the gym. This explains why he’s never at class.

- pidge has a car on campus. It’s Matt’s car or whatever. Not only can she not park for her life, she also can’t stop getting parking tickets. She uses the tickets as wall decor for her dorm.

- Lance skateboards. He’s pretty good at it. He’s only fallen twice, and both times had been in extremely public settings. Once was in front of a bus stop with fifty people. He tried teaching Coran how to skate and Coran accidentally slipped and launched the board towards the main road.

- Pidge plays clash royale in class. Shiro roasts her for it but then secretly also plays word games in class

- on top of having four majors, Allura also has four internships??? Everytime she posts about something that seems relaxing, it’s misleading. She’ll post herself getting drinks and SIKE it’s a networking event. She’ll be going hiking SIKE it’s a colleague bonding trip. Girl cannot take a break.

- Keith hates frats. Even educational ones with job opportunities. Even if he knows all frat boys aren’t shitty, he refuses to budge on his stance

- Shiro is the kind of guy you’d be talking to and ten people come up to him to say hi. Everyone knows him. Even if he doesn’t know them.

[apoemaday]

Poetic Subjects

by Rebecca Lindenberg

The capital city. Arrowroot. Water-bur. Colts. Hail. Bamboo grass. The round-leaved violet. Club moss. Water oats. Flat river-boats. The mandarin duck.                         — The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon

The sky. And the sky above that. The exchange of ice between mouths. Other people's poems. My friend says we never write about anything we can get to the bottom of. For him, this is a place arbored with locust trees. For me, it's a language for which I haven't quite found the language yet. The dewy smell of a new-cut pear. Bacon chowder flecked with thyme. Roasted duck skin ashine with plum jam. Scorpion peppers. Clothes on a line. A smell of rain battering the rosemary bush. The Book Cliffs. Most forms of banditry. Weathered barns. Dr. Peebles. The Woman's Tonic, it says on the side, in old white paint. The clink of someone putting away dishes in another room. The mechanical bull at the cowboy bar in West Salt Lake. The girls ride it wearing just bikinis and cowboy hats. I lean over to my friend and say, I would worry about catching something. And he leans back to say, That's really the thing you'd worry about? We knock the bottom of our bottles together. How they talk in old movies, like, Now listen here. Just because you can swing a bat doesn't mean you can play ball. Or, I'll be your hot cross if you'll be my bun. Well, anyway, you know what I mean. Somewhere between the sayable and the unsayable, poetry runs. Antidote to the river of forgetting. Like a rosary hung from a certain rearview mirror. Like the infinite rasp of gravel under the wheel of a departing car.  Gerard Manley Hopkins's last words were I'm so happy, I'm so happy. Oscar Wilde took one look at the crackling wallpaper in his Paris flat, then at his friends gathered around and said, One or the other of us has got to go. Wittgenstein said simply, Tell all my friends, I've had a wonderful life.

[titus-androgynous-87]

Any RPDR fans on here that aren’t also on Reddit missed out on one of the funniest and most wholesome things to happen to the Drag Race subreddit.

A man, I forget his actual name and internet handle (which is just as well because he doesn’t need anyone putting that info out there), had mistaken the RPDR sub for one about actual drag racing.

He liked to play drag racing video games, and he’d posted a question about which make/model car would be a good place to start for some game he was looking to play. It was clear that English wasn’t his first language and wasn’t super familiar with how the internet worked, let alone Reddit. And so, naturally, Reddit did what Reddit does best: had a fun and thankfully good-natured roasting.

People were offering up names of queens like: Nymphia Wind, Sapphira, Latrice Royale, and more I can’t remember right now. And this guy was so sweet replying “never heard of it, but thank you friend!” and then like. Then a few minutes later he’d reply again “this is a singer?”

Cut to a few hours later, he makes another post apologizing for posting in the wrong sub, explaining his confusion, and asking that we “please didnt charge [him] with a cyber crime.” So we all made an effort to make it clear we weren’t angry, but hoping that he would pick up on the joke and join in. And we all helped explain the show, how it worked, what it meant to the community, etc.

This man makes yet another post, with a hastily made Windows Movie Maker slideshow attached thanking the sub for being so kind and saying how he had never heard of Rupert’s Drag Race for LGBT, but he liked seeing all the representation of not only different races, nationalities, and ethnicities, but also gender, sexuality, and aesthetics.

He then went on to explain in accompanying text that he had never had any ill will towards queer people, he hadn’t ever really understood before, and had never heard of drag at all. But he was glad he made a happy mistake, because it helped him learn a little more about something he didn’t understand and discover a culture he’d never known existed, but was glad it did.

And then his last post in the saga was under a different handle, and explained that he’d been using his son’s account before, but now he had his own. And while he didn’t think he’d stick around the RPDR sub long-term, he said he might check in every once in a while to see “the new singers.”

The sub has a new flair in his honor: I’m Rupert. I think we made him an honorary mod, or someone proposed it at least. It was all very funny, and I’m very glad that everyone kept the joke contained, and that OP took it well. And wherever he is, I hope he’s having fun, and finds cash in his coat pocket.