#some version of this has probably been done before

[crazy-pages]

Hi! I'm a person who added a bunch of information to one of the more popular posts about a *different* legal case being brought against Matt, the CEO of tumblr. I talked about how and why the alleged pattern of systemic lies, labor rights violations, outright abuse, and control constitute human trafficking, even if the specific charges being leveled are workers rights violations and abuse allegations.

So this is me telling you that you are wrong. That's not how this works. It is important to understand that corporate redirection is a thing, but that means both understanding what is corporate redirection and what isn't corporate redirection. Not understanding that, and assuming ordinary occurrences must be the deeper machinations of the powerful elite, is how you get sucked into conspiracy theories.

From the very moment the boop meter was first thought up, probably back in 2023, there were likely plans to bring it back for later holidays if it was a success. There's a whole bunch of code work to construct something like this and bug test it thoroughly before launch, and basically zero effort (but a fair chunk of time) required to touch up the paw designs and make a holiday specific version later. It would be genuinely astonishing to me if this wasn't the plan back before any of us had ever even seen the boop meter.

For that matter, while Tumblr knowledge of this case has been getting some traction, I've seen nothing indicating it's big enough that Matt knows or cares about it. (And he is. Uh. Bad at keeping his mouth shut about perceived flights on social media.) This case has also been publicly ongoing for many months at this point. The moment you become aware of it is not the moment Matt realized it might need to be something he ought to do PR about. And there are literally multiple overlapping legal cases against him as an employer, it's not just this or that WordPress case above! If he was actually doing this to cover up for those things, we would be having one of these events every few weeks.

Holiday events are a semi-regular thing on tumblr and have been for quite a while. There is absolutely no reason to think this wouldn't have happened, if not for Matt trying to cover something up.

It is possible to recognize how extremely fucked up this behavior is and how emblematic it is of how many billionaires treat people when they can get away with it, and also not start spreading conspiracy theories about how will the boop meter was a scam to redirect our attention. (It hasn't done that, by the way. The notes on that post I contributed to didn't slow down at all.)

uh oh! owner's being sued for worker abuse! get out the boop meter so everybody forgets

[tartsinarat]

I don’t have much energy (on account of still being sick :/) but I still wanted to do something so dug up an old unfinished screenshot edit that I did a while ago but never finished until now

But yeah this is from the au’s version of Eclipse Lake, which happens a bit later down the timeline than the original.

It’s set just before Hollow mind instead and I’ll explain the timeline differences in much better detail in a different post but it’s basically because Luz isn’t focusing on going home like in the og so she is seeking on ways of getting revenge on Belos and saving Pip and Eda.

But Amity has been wanting to cheer up her awesome girlfriend so she’s been secretly researching ways to create a portal door as a surprise, so Amity was the one who found out about the titan veins through the echo mouse instead and went to go find some titan blood without telling Luz.

If you’re probably wondering where Hunter is…He’s actually taking an extremely well deserved break :0 (lmao, just kidding he’s still apart of the Eclipse lake events) as Pip is surprisingly extremely efficient at sorting out tasks (normal Pip could never, this is all the brainwashing tea lmao) and so Hunter has unwilling ended up getting all his work done by Pip…

Hunter doesn’t want to admit it but he is happy about finally getting a break because he’s getting to do normal teen stuff and play with flapjack more often but he does feel like he’s getting replaced so there is complicated feelings there (it also doesn’t help that Pip is now getting all the attention from Belos and is on top of that able to do magic so Hunter is switching between “I’ve got to do as much as I can so I don’t get replaced” to “it’s kinda nice not being in mortal danger every five seconds and being able to hang out with Willow”)

But yeah onto the episode; Much to the displeasure and horror of Kiki she’s having to be supervised by Pip during the titan’s vein assignment so she’s extra cautious and paranoid about not ruining the assignment especially when in front of the Prince…

Hunter wanted to go with Pip but was then explicitly told by Belos to take a break as Pip was handling an extremely special assignment but Hunter immediately flipped into panic mode because after getting kinda jealous of Pip and he wanted to show his worth again to Belos so he ended up secretly following along as a scout in order to be the first to find the titans blood.

Belos obviously already knew that the vein was already decayed and full of Fools blood from when he went there years ago, so the assignment Kiki is on was actually just a wild goose chase created in order for Pip to secretly assassinate Kiki (who’s fucked up one too many times and knows too much about the actual day of unity plans so she’s obviously got to go.)

Amity and Hunter end up working together after stumbling onto each other searching for titans blood, though they’re bickering and fighting each other the entire way but aren’t as antagonistic with each other as Hunter has slowly mellowed out after hanging out with the emerald entrails more often so they do actually end up properly bonding :)

Uh until they accidentally stumble onto Pip’s attempt on Kiki’s life…

I’m personally imagining the spiderman meme with Pip, Amity and Hunter happening and then Kiki scampering away at full speed in the background.

So yeah Amity is just majorly confused on the fact that she’s just randomly found Pip in the weirdest situation and place possible after months of no contact or communication…

It gets weirder for Amity as Luz never actually told anybody where Pip was and just vaguely said he was staying with family when asked as it wasn’t technically lying (Luz really didn’t want to break Pip’s promise on not telling anyone who he actually is so this is her guilt free way of avoiding questions on where he is)

Pip doesn’t even let Hunter or Amity think about the implications of this whole situation before running off to go catch Kiki and attempt to go for round two… Amity stops him mid way by grabbing his arm which wasn’t the smartest idea.

Because of the brainwashing tea and all the meddling Belos did with his memories, it genuinely makes Pips brain hurt when trying to recognise who Amity or anyone from when he lived in the owl house and so he usually gets really frustrated/aggressive when seeing someone from his past… so Amity interrupting his assignment genuinely made him kinda loose it and try to kill her instead.

The image is the aftermath but they both hit a draw because Hunter does manage to deescalate the situation by reminding Pip to focus on his actual mission instead.

I’ll probably continue this explanation through either a comic or text post :p

[lesbianshadowheart]

[zootopiathingz]

I know Titanic AUs are overused and extremely corny but like. I can’t help wanting to make one for SMB. Like come on Mario and Peach are literally perfect for the love story; protective lower class guy with a sense of adventure and rich girl longing for a little freedom from the high expectations. Bowser would also be perfect for the douche bag fiancé who likes to control her because reasons

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 8: !!NOTE: this is different from the past polls - rather than choosing a story action, you're picking supplies to craft a little makeshift boat (EX: wood will be the main platform, so there should likely be the most of it, however, if there were 100% votes for branches and 0% votes for rope, then it'd just be a pile of wood held together by nothing - keep them balanced reasonably, etc.))

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should get around the barrier by crafting a little boat to take a river detour….

~

Finally crawling out of his hiding spot in the brambles, he meticulously brushes the leaves from his clothes and composes himself, now fully focused on his generic traveler's map of the area... After checking it about 500 times just to make sure he isn't confused, he determines that going down the nearby river would likely still get him where he's trying to go, and hopefully be much less treacherous than wandering through haunted forests or confronting the stern gaze of the barrier guards..

It only takes about 10 minutes of following a narrower rocky path off the main road to reach a nice shaded spot of land next to a small river. He kneels in the grass, eagerly rummaging through his backpack for supplies, in addition to whatever he can scavenge from the edge of the woods. The rush of excitement slowly dissipates however, once he realizes that he.. actually.. might not know how to make a raft as well as he thought... Surely it's quite straightforward, no? Just.. make it look like it does in picture books?? There are no rules, as long as it floats, it works! Probably anyone could build one on intuition alone! ... maybe...???

.. Once again sinking into a cloud of anxiety, he slumps over, staring at the pile of materials with teary eyes, doubtful what to even do next.... How should he build the raft? Help him by using the poll to choose the appropriate amounts of materials (determined by final % of votes in that category)!

[magentagalaxies]

giggling and kicking my feet while i'm lying on my bed like a cliche teenage girl bc bruce's assistant just sent me high-quality recordings of both shows where bruce announced the buddy cole documentary at the rivoli

[arolesbianism]

Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.

[ddejavvu]

Logan's sense of smell has always served him well

contents/warnings: huge scent kink, possible predator/prey kink? idk i think it's so hot when he sniffs someone out and I want him to smell me

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Even before you were together, Logan's sense of smell has always helped him figure you out. He'd known he was attractive, of course, and he'd play into it for entertainment if he was in a good mood. But that was all it was; some one-liners, maybe a quick fuck to get his frustration and energy out. But when you'd been a frequent visitor to his cage matches and he began smelling the sweet, thick scent of your arousal anytime he knocked someone out, he knew he had a shot with you.

He was arrogant about it- he still is. He used to give you this knowing little smirk when you'd begun hanging around him, anytime he could smell that you were wet beneath your panties. And it would only make things worse, only make the smell stronger, and that's when Logan would take pity on you and fuck you against the dingy wall of a divebar bathroom.

Even now that you're together, now that you have a home and not just a shoddy, gutted RV with a rusty trailer attached, he uses his sense of smell to his advantage. You're asleep, and you probably have been for hours. But you're sprawled out on the bed, ass-up and legs spread, and Logan knows that before he sees you from the way he can smell your cunt so strongly.

It smells used, like you'd stretched it out just for him before falling asleep and leaving yourself sprawled out. Like a spread, like a meal you're on display, your pussy visible from the way your leg is hiked up to your side. It's the perfect position, and Logan wastes no time in stuffing his face in between your legs.

Tucking his nose into your folds means that he gets the rawest, strongest version of your scent possible. He inhales gruffly, his facial hair grating roughly against your face and making you squirm. You wake, startled but not afraid, and your fingers curl helplessly into the pillow while Logan nestles his face into your cunt.

"Logan? You- mm, you're back."

"Stop moving." He grunts, hands grabbing greedily at the fleshy expanse of your thighs, keeping you pinned in place so that he can continue inhaling lungfuls of your primed sex, "You touch yourself earlier?"

"Yeah-" You choke on the word, still squirming, "So I could- so you can get in easier."

"That was thoughtful of you," He muses, his voice still gruff as he loses himself in the scent of your previous orgasm, and your new arousal that's already leaking from your cunt and onto his skin as he presses his nose deeper and deeper inside of you, "I can smell it. It was a good one this time, hm? You stink like pussy."

You instinctively try shutting your legs to block him out, but he's so tightly pressed against you that you only trap him in place.

"Sorry-" You babble, heat rushing to your cheeks but Logan inhales again, drinking in your scent through his heightened senses.

"Don't be," He groans, finally parting his lips to lick up what he's been smelling since he got his hands on you, "You should stink like pussy. And when I'm done with you, you're gonna stink like dick."

[thestrangepoet]

The Ninth Life | The Magnus Archives One Shot

Based on @ultramarinaa's Cat!Martin AU, and not upon @coworkerjonathan's soul-destroying tragic version of it. If you want that version, it's here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Buttocks-clenchingly sweet fluff. 

DISCLAIMER: I, once again, wrote this in an hour and haven't proofread it. Forgive the typos and any “first draft” vibes. 

──── •✧• ────

[CLICK] 

Oop, yup, it’s on! Right, erm…This is Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I thought it would be a good idea to—

[A VERY LOUD, VERY RASPY HISSING CUTS MARTIN OFF]

[A LONG, WEIGHTY PAUSE FOLLOWS; SOMEONE IS BEING GLARED AT]

What? I-I mean, given the absolute palaver we just went through, shouldn’t we record what happened and how we fixed it? 

[SILENCE FOLLOWS. BUT MARTIN EVIDENTLY GETS HIS ANSWER]

Exactly! Right, so…ah-hem. This is Martin Bla—

[ONCE AGAIN, A LOUD HISS]

What? What is wrong with—No, Jon, you’re going to hit the—!

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[MARTIN RUFFLES SOME PAPERS, THEN EXHALES LOUDLY THROUGH HIS NOSE. WHEN HE SPEAKS THIS TIME, IT’S SOMEWHAT TAUT]

Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding an encounter with a feline-based Leitner book called The Ninth Life. Recorded by subject, October 17th, 2017.

Happy now? 

[LOUD PURRING NEAR THE TAPE RECORDER SIGNIFIES THAT MARTIN HAS INDEED DONE A PASSABLE JOB]

Good, good. Right, oop! Yeah, okay, you can…sit on my lap while I record this. That’s not…that’s not weird at all. Knowing you’re…you’re Jon. 

…You could at least sit like a cat, Jon. No, no, no, don’t get the claws out, it’s fine! Sit how you want! Heh…K-keeping an eye on me, hmm? While I record? Oh, r-right, yeah, ‘Get on with it, Martin’, noted!

So…about ten weeks ago, I came across a book while tidying through some of the old statement boxes. I’m not sure why it wasn’t in the library or in Artefact Storage, but I suppose that’s a mystery for another time. A-anyway, I had a flick through to try to figure out what it was. Could have just been a normal book, you know? E-especially since it wasn’t put away properly, I mean, really, that’s a health and safety risk that wasn’t my fault, and—Ow! Claws! 

R-right, ‘Stay on the subject, Martin’, loud and clear…

Where was I? O-oh, right. So I took it through to the break room, sat down with it, flicked through, read a few…err, well, ten pages to be precise, and basically, it was written like an old fairy tale. Something about a man who turned into a cat to get away from everyone and…W-well, what I’m trying to say is that it didn’t seem like a Leitner! 

I’d probably have finished reading the whole thing, but the microwave dinging made me jump and look up. No one usually uses the microwave outside of lunch hours, but Jon actually makes cups of tea by microwaving mugs of water and then—Ah-ah-ow! N-no, I’m not getting claw-bullied into not telling people the heinous way you make tea, Jon! 

Right, right, fine! Yes, so, microwave dings, I look up from the book, and…I drop the book. And I drop to the floor, a-and the book’s suddenly huge, and there’s Jon, and he’s looking at me, and…

…and I was a cat. I-I-I guess Jon hadn’t noticed me in the break room before putting his mug in the microwave, because he didn’t realise I was me. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up, held over his shoulder, petted and cooed at and—Owwww, claws, claws! Right, okay, no, no one can know Jonathan Sims has a heart, right you are! 

E-erm, so…Yeah. Panicked a bit. I-I tried to make it obvious to the others that it was me, but they just didn’t cotton on. And I couldn’t read the book to figure out if the ending would tell me how to turn back. O-or if I even would turn back. Honestly, in any other situation, I-I might have been really terrified, but it’s hard to keep worrying when people are suddenly stroking you and giving you all this affection. Heh, Jon even named me Champion. 

But, right, I-I really needed to turn back into a human. You know, as lovely as it was to be liked by everyone, I figured, well, it’s deeply unprofessional to turn into a cat at work, isn’t it? And I really didn’t want to be written up for unauthorised absences when I was technically in the room? 

It took a while – I don’t know who moved it, but the book had gone when I managed to slink back into the break room, had to wait for someone to open the door for me, you see – but I eventually found The Ninth Life again. 

It took ages to drag it over to Jon’s desk. And even longer for him to stop laughing and telling me what dedicated little chap I was. He picked up the book though, and I got so excited that someone would finally realise a Leitner was in play that I jumped up onto his desk and…

…and I…erm…I knocked his cup of tea over the book. 

I could feel my heart sinking. What if I’d ruined it? What if the answer was all smudged up? Jon could tell I was upset, and he started trying to pet me and calm me down, mopping up the tea and everything. Took a while before he got back to the book, and, well…the bookplate had been smeared by the spilt tea, I guess, because he didn’t see any mention of Leitner at the front. He started reading the book, and I tried to nudge him to read the back pages first, to get to the answer before the book could turn him into a cat, but he, erm…well, he read it. Five pages, we think. 

And there he was. 

One minute, Jon’s at his desk, the next, there’s a little black cat with too many scars sitting in his chair. 

Well, after he’d stopped hissing, running around the room – Tim thought he had zoomies, ha ha! – and bapping me on the head every time I got close, he realised who I was. 

And then, he bapped me on the head again. 

So. We were both cats! And it’s so funny, because in the office, Tim and Sasha and me, we all say how Jon gives off major black-cat energy? He’s like this poor wet cat in human form, and now that he was a cat, and it turned out, he is…w-well, he’s not very good at being a cat? 

[A LOUD HISS – EVIDENTLY, MARTIN HAS FORGOTTEN JON IS SITTING THERE]

Don’t hiss at me! You know it’s true. I mean, look, you’re literally sitting in my lap now like a human. Cats don’t do that, Jon! It looks weird! 

R-right, okay, let’s, erm, get on with the story – ah, statement, statement! – before I get scratched again. 

S-so, right, Jon wasn’t really getting the hang of being a cat. He kept clambering up onto desks to type on keyboards, trying to tell Tim what was happening. He wouldn’t even jump up onto the desks, he would literally shimmy up the leg like he was climbing a tree. And, yeah, he doesn’t sit in your lap like a cat, all curled up, no no, he sits…like a person sits. So I figured actually, this was pretty good, someone had to realise something was up with this cat that just wasn’t catting. 

But no. No, no, Tim just laughed and named Jon Skrunkly and got on with his day. 

[A LONG, LOW MIAOW OF CONTEMPT IN THE BACKGROUND]

Nooo! You’re not skrunkly at all, Jon! You’re a very handsome little kitty!

[A HISS]

Right, right! Back to work! Erm, yeah, so, there I am, trying to teach Skr–err, Jon how to act more like a cat. Not because it would help get us back to normal, but because I was worried? He kept falling off stuff, not landing on his feet…jumping and missing things…He was having a really hard time, and I figured if we were stuck like this indefinitely, it might help to, you know…teach him a bit? 

And then, one day, he just…vanished. I wandered in one morning from the canteen, ‘cause Sasha had snuck me a plate of milk, and I couldn’t find Jon anywhere. Tim realised pretty quickly that something was up, that I wouldn’t settle down, and then he noticed Skrun–err, Jon, was missing. 

It took days for me to sniff him out. Which is…a really weird thing to say out loud. On record. Erm. I sniffed my boss out. But it’s insane, as a cat, the difference in senses, a-and to be honest, my eyesight was dreadful because I obviously couldn’t wear my glasses. A-anyway, sniffed him out, and realised he had somehow fallen into the tunnels through the trapdoor? Which is weird as well, ‘cause the trapdoor is always closed. No one would have opened it? 

[ANOTHER LOW MIAOW, BUT THIS ONE SOUNDS STRANGELY LIKE SKRUNKLY IS TRYING TO SPEAK – IT ALMOST SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYING ‘SASHA!’]

I know, Jon, you’ll tell us when you, erm, get back. 

So, now I knew where he was, I went into full hyperkitty mode. I was zooming around, miaowing, pawing, jumping on Tim, jumping at Tim, launching myself off bookshelves, you name it! Somehow, I managed to get the message across, and Tim went to open the trapdoor. 

I…I hate going into the tunnels. I really, really hate it. But Jon was down there, and as far as we knew, he’d been down there with no food and water for days! So, down I jumped, with Tim clambering after me telling me to slow down. I kept sniffing, and it was actually pretty easy to find him after that! 

There he was, curled up and shaking near a wall, and I ran towards him, miaowing my head off so he knew we were coming to the rescue, and…

And I…changed back. Right there. Just pop! There I was. 

Tim, erm…Tim screamed. Jon hissed and nearly ran away. It was chaos, and…I’m actually surprised all three of us made it out. Especially with Jon going wild on Tim and clawing him every time he tried to pick him up. What was that about, anyway, we were helping you!

[ANOTHER GRUMBLING MIAOW – DID SKRUNKLY SEE SOMETHING IN THE TUNNELS? OR SOMEONE? WAS HE TRYING TO TELL THEM?]

We got back up to the office, Jon in tow, and now that I could speak, Tim, Sasha and I managed to hash out a theory. 

Basically, we figure that there are a lot of Leitner books that kind of do different things depending on how much you read of them. S-so we have one on record, A Disappearance, if you read one line, you disappear for a bit. But, if you read the whole book, you disappear from the world for good. 

I read ten pages of The Ninth Life, and I was a cat for ten weeks. Checks out! So we reckon Jon read about five pages, and it’s been three weeks, so…two weeks of Skrunkly to go!

Right, think that’s it. Yeah! So, erm, if you’re looking for a cure for The Ninth Life, just enjoy your time as a kitty and wait it out! U-unless you read the whole book, in which case, erm…I-I really hope you enjoy your life as a cat. 

End recor–Ow! What did I miss off this time? 

[SEVERAL LIGHT THUDS SOUND]

Why are you pawing the book, Jon? I…oh. Right. 

Erm…I think Jon wants it on record that, erm…the book is eleven pages long. And…and I read ten pages. 

[THUD-THUD-THUD!]

Yes, yes, all right, you microwaving your tea saved me from an eternity as a cat! That does not mean I am going to let you continue to ruin perfectly good cups of tea like that!

[A LOUD MIAOW OF PROTEST. MARTIN SIGHS]

Recording ends. 

[CLICK]

[occamstfs]

Follow Your Nose

Robin's not happy about visiting his student's frat house but with each heady breath he finds new pleasures to be gained from the experience.

Another Musk based Frat TF! Not breaking new ground but I like how this one turned out haha! Also in the wake of my contest I'm restarting the queue on my other blog so if you want to see what I read/have any burning questions send them over there! Hope you enjoy this little scent-centric romp! -Occam

Robin hated being on this side of campus; he doesn't know why on Earth he agreed to do a homecall for office hours. Totally unprofessional of course, but the grad student was simply so tired of sitting in his cold office for nary a soul to show up. When Carlos reached out asking for some one on one assistance the T.A. agreed to venture to what he was told was a common study area. What Carlos hid from Robin was that it just so happened to be his frat’s living room. 

The researcher almost turned around and rain checked as soon as he saw. But after Carlos texted to thank him for his help, whatever scholarly version of the Hippocratic oath he took compels him to continue onward despite himself. It of course doesn’t hurt that the slightly younger man seems to have been made in a lab to attract Robin. Though the professional has done his absolute best to remain professional and push down the repressed desire. Though as he steps in this is made far more difficult.

Carlos welcomes him into the frat house clad in a far too tight, clearly stained, tee and what seem to be, impossibly gaudy, similarly tight, athletic shorts. Immediately Robin’s face sears with blush and the smirk that is almost always at home on Carlos’ face grows wider. Before the fratty fiend can get a word in the grad student speaks up, fighting through an embarrassing voice crack, “uHm- Mr. Esperanza if you wouldn’t mind, could you change into something more appropriate for our session?” Carlos tilts his head, deliberately exposes his midriff as he scratches it. After a moment he laughs and answers remembering why he’s dressed like this, “Oh sure sure no problema bro.” 

Robin’s eye twitches as his student opts for bro rather than his title, name, or anything vaguely respectful. The T.A. hears the man’s hands scratching thick hair out of sight before he sniffs his hand and rubs his jaw, continuing, “It’s just uhhh, my laundry’s still in the machine so this is all I could throw on before you got in huhuh.” Robin holds his tongue from deriding the man’s shoddy planning, I mean for god’s sake they had an appointment!

So intent on hiding his attraction to, and irritation at, his student, Robin doesn’t quite catch the glint in his eye as Carlos offers an idea, “if you wouldn’t mind, uhhh, professor? You could go grab me some pants or somethin’” Not wanting to correct Carlos’ switch up to a title far loftier than his own and before he can even humor the idea that he’d wander deeper into the frat house, the bro thanks him as if he’s already agreed. “Thanks much lil bro- I’ll get us all set up here. It’ll be the third door on your right but you can probably just follow your nose hahah!”

Robin squints his eyes at the brazen assumption that he’d do anything of the sort. And yet, preferring anything to confrontation, he acquiesces with a sigh. The faster they start the faster Robin’s out of here. But a step down the hallway his nose wrinkles as he realizes that Carlos was not being cute, he can genuinely smell the laundry room far down the hall. Taking a deep breath and centering himself before the air is full of more musky sweat than oxygen, he shifts his jaw in irritation at the situation he stumbled himself into and presses onward.

Robin pushes open the unreasonably heavy door of the laundry room and enters. He hears the door slam but keeps his eyes forward as he endeavors to spend as little time in here as possible. Pushing down rational questioning of why he is doing this, in his haste he makes the mistake of opening the washing machine rather than a dryer that would presumably hold Carlos’ clothes. Before he even realizes his mistake he is almost blasted back by the potent musk spilling out of the drum. Choking out a ‘why wasn’t this run…” as his eyes glaze over and he is overwhelmed by the scent.

It’s as if there are more particles of sweat in the air than, uh, air. His mouth falls open to avoid smelling but that only heightens the experience and leads to him taking deeper breaths. Despite everything in him screaming to leave now, Robin feels himself drawn towards the machine that simply must have been intentionally compiled to smell as musky as possible. As the seconds pass Robin feels his body begin to move of its own accord, like an out of body experience he sees himself inch closer to the machine. There’s a struggled swallow as he is suddenly conscious that he is drooling at the scent of the frat’s dirty laundry.

When his hand reaches into the filthy load of laundry he feels his autonomy return and he quickly draws back. Clothes almost crunchy with sweat, and other substances, he stands stunned as he tries to understand what he just did, why he did that. Only then does he notice that he is so hard that anyone who glanced in his direction would notice. It almost hurts as his cock strains against his underwear and pulses with deep need. 

Priority rapidly shifting to hiding his massive erection should Carlos stumble in Robin opts to adjust his pants. Rather than doing it surreptitiously as he would usually do, he shoves his hand directly in his underwear in a manner distinctly boorish. Notably he also plods around his underpants with his dominant hand, the same one that only just left the frat’s collection of their dirtiest tops, bottoms, and drawers.

Stained hand now touching his cock he is overwhelmed with the desire to never remove it from this spot again. Drool still pooling in his mouth, Robin almost forgets his surroundings as cock seems more impressive than it’s ever been before now. Or no, his hand seems larger, rougher, more powerful. He squints as the seconds pass and the sensations continue to shift before he looks down to find that his bulge is indeed larger than he has ever seen it. Biting his lip he glances at the door and, demonstrating his clearly fading rationality, decides ‘fuck it’ and pulls out his cock.

Haloed with pubes that are growing thicker, spreading further, with each quivering breath and graced touch from his stained hand. Pre drips from the head of his thicker cock as it stands high, beginning to rival the length of his forearm as it inches longer with each heartbeat, each uncontrollable pulse. He cups his balls to remove them from his underwear and is again struck dumb. God they’re itchy. 

He scratches at them as his nails almost draw back into his hand, to the eye of an observer they shift from manicured to the deliberately uncared for, dirty nails of a frat bro. Thus he must dig even deeper to satisfy his itching balls as long, thick curls begin to spread across them. Each drag across finds them larger than they were less than a second before. Each mindless scratch they hang lower, stretch his sack larger as his balls begin to rival the size of eggs and churn to fill him with hormones that will make it all the harder for him to think his way out of this, or any, room. 

Despite his mind awash, feeling his hand begin to mindlessly move to start masturbating in this frat’s laundry room he regains his senses. Fear suddenly overwhelms his lusts and need for pleasure as he tries to inspect his body. Looking down at his hands he finds they both have changed and the horrors have not stopped there. Thick dark hair and a haphazard tan have spread up his forearms and as he feels heat begin to burn on his bicep it’s clear this is a situation still ongoing. Robin struggles to stand and falls over on his face, squarely landing in some brute’s discarded briefs. Fighting back a smirk as he is inoculated with a direct dose of his frat brother’s musk, Robin rolls over in fear of the changes that must be about to begin on his face.

His nose adjusts as memories of breaking it twice assert themselves into his mind. Rob feels his biceps bulge against his forearms as he raises his hands to his face. Grunting and ignoring how much deeper his voice is as it echoes in the room, he talks to himself to begin his flight, “Mrgh, I gotta, get out of here.” Trying to pull his pants up, before they can even struggle to cover his monumental bulge and increasingly cushioned ass, his jeans are caught on his thighs. Muscle and fat press larger as they become two massive meaty trunks. Dropping the pants to inspect his suddenly impressive legs he flexes them and goes weak at the knees as desire tries to take over once more. 

Rob only just fights these rising instincts and makes for the door. Then does he find the most clearly sinister aspect of this situation yet, it’s locked. His uhh, boy? His bro. Yeah his bro trapped him in here. Fuckin’ Carlos did this to him on purpose he bets. Leaning against the door he finds his breathing suddenly inhibited by the tight shirt that he’s been wearing. Seeing his waist has apparently filled out, his stomach quivers with butterflies. He’s always been envious of his bro’s forms but man he looks just as killer huhuh. His widening upper body sends tears through the shirt without his hands even needing to tear the top off. 

Dressed in nothing but torn shreds on the floor of the, er his, frat’s laundry room Rob’s clouded mind observes the final touches of his new form. Weighty pecs pulse larger and hang over his new thick torso. Hamhock thighs frame a bulge that would make any mouth water. He scratches stubble growing thicker on his face while he begins to thoughtlessly masturbate against the laundry room door. Stretching his neck as it thickens to hold up a head growing thicker and mind growing duller, his mouth falls open and he appreciates the musk of his bros as if it's the most pleasant thing in the world to him. Were this the rest of his life the horny bro wouldn’t mind. Rubbing his torso as thick curls begin to decorate him like a beast. Treasure trail stretching from pubes thicker than foliage. He raises his free arm to bathe in his own musk.

His mouth waters as he realizes he doesn’t need to use these other’s fucker clothes to get off! He’s got the sweet stuff right here. Any shreds remaining of the prudish, frat-phobic teacher’s assistant vacate as he delights in his own pit. Thickening curls spread outward from deep in his pits as a truly voluminous mass begins to press out from under his arms. His tongue stretches out from his mouth into the jungle as it grows thicker, perpetually soaked in his new musk. And then Rob loses control. Decorating the walls and himself and finally adding his own mess to their little ode to locker rooms everywhere. 

Tongue out enjoying himself in what is apparently his new home, sweat begins to pool under the man’s discovery of new delights. It seems like forever for him but in reality, a few minutes later he feels the door push into him, “Yooo bro what’s takin’ you so long?” Carlos opens the door and pinches his nose to avoid the stink of the room and the overpowering scent of Rob’s first time.

 Rob’s dumb smirk and glazed eyes meet Carlos’ mischievous grin and the new brother speaks in his new bass, “Uhhh, didn’t you lock me in here bro?” His brother stifles laughter and ruffles Rob’s sweaty new haircut, “You dumbass huhuh- It’s a pull door.” It takes a few seconds for Carlos’ words to sink in but after realizing that he simply forgot how doors work he joins in laughing loud enough to shake the foundations of their frat house. “Brooo huhuh!” 

“Now throw something on so we can figure this shit out!” Rob goes to grab clothes from some stray hamper filled with someone’s dirty laundry and heads out. Walking out of his musky captivity, Rob finds a new warmth fill him as he wanders into the house, into his house. The frat didn’t quite need a new member but Carlos is more than happy to make the most out of his new brother. Not all of them are so unabashedly into their own musk but judging by Rob’s changes and the already returning erection in his shorts, Carlos can’t wait to see what the two of them will get up to in their new lives together.

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You

SUMMARY: Heavily based on/inspired by Enough for You by Olivia Rodrigo. After months of chasing storms and harboring unspoken feelings, the moment of truth finally arrives. When Tyler returns to the team with someone new by his side, it shatters the hope you secretly held onto. In the aftermath of his abandonment, you're left grappling with heartache, wondering why you were never enough for him. As Tyler tries to make amends for leaving, the conversation takes a painful turn when he confronts the feelings he never knew existed. But some apologies can't fix what’s been broken, and all you want is to go back to the way things were—before you let him into your heart.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unrequited love.

WORD COUNT: 6.3k (sorry, not sorry)

Note: This is angsty as hell! I've been going through some heavy stuff in my personal life that has me feeling extra angsty. This fic is filled with angst and heartbreak so just be aware. This is how I'm coping with what I'm dealing with in my own life. Hope you enjoy xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The bathroom mirror reflected a version of yourself you’d rarely put on display. Your hair was curled just the right way, and your makeup, while subtle, was meticulously done. You hadn’t planned on going all out like this initially, but after scrolling through pictures of girls Tyler had been seen with—girls with flawless hair and expertly done makeup—you couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it would take for him to notice you.

Tyler Owens. The name that had taken up too much space in your mind for the past several months. He was more than just the leader of The Wranglers team or your boss; he was the man you’d fallen for. Hard. And you didn’t just want him to see you as a friend anymore.

The rest of the team was downstairs already, probably gearing up for the day’s shoot. Normally, you’d be there early too, grabbing coffee with Boone or discussing ideas with Lily. Today, though, you needed these extra few minutes. Maybe, just maybe, today was the day Tyler would finally notice you.

You gave yourself a final look, smoothing down your shirt, and headed out of the room. By the time you reached the lobby, the team was already gathered, discussing plans for the day. 

Boone was the first to see you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Whoa! Look at you! You clean up nice,” he teased, though his tone was genuinely complimentary.

Lily turned at the sound of Boone’s voice and smiled. “You look amazing! What’s the occasion?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you shrugged it off. “No occasion. Just felt like switching things up.”

The compliments kept coming. Dexter, who was typically more reserved, gave you an approving nod. But the one person you hoped would notice? He hadn’t said a word.

Tyler stood off to the side, his focus on something entirely unrelated, fiddling with his storm-chasing gear on his truck. He didn’t even glance your way, and your heart sank a little.

Boone, always quick to read a room, smirked and nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey, man, what do you think? She’s looking good today, right?”

Tyler paused for a brief moment, barely looking up from his equipment. His expression didn’t change as he muttered, “I’m not really the compliment type, Boone.”

Your stomach dropped at his response. You had been hoping—no, counting—on some kind of reaction, but his indifference stung more than you’d expected. You tried to brush it off, hiding the hurt with a forced smile, but inside, the disappointment was palpable.

Lily shot you a sympathetic look, sensing the tension. 

Boone, never one to let an awkward moment slide, gave Tyler an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Not the compliment type? Man, give her something. She looks great.”

Tyler shrugged as if the whole thing didn’t matter. “She always looks fine,” he said simply and then turned his attention back to his gear.

Fine.

The word echoed in your head, and for the first time that morning, you felt foolish for trying so hard. You had put in all that extra effort to be noticed, to be something more in his eyes, but apparently, "fine" was all you were.

You forced yourself to join in the conversation with the others, but the sting of his words stayed with you. As the group began to move toward the parking lot to load up the vehicles, you fell into step beside Lily. She bumped her shoulder against yours lightly.

“He’s an idiot,” she whispered, offering a small, supportive smile.

You tried to laugh, though it came out hollow. “Yeah, well, I knew that already.”

But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The Wranglers’ convoy made its way out of town, the early morning sun casting a golden hue over the horizon. The team was running on fumes, both literally and figuratively, so when Boone pulled into a gas station, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. While the others went about refueling the vehicles and stretching their legs, you spotted a small coffee shop across the street.

A chance to bring back some caffeine, but more importantly, a chance to do something for Tyler.

Without thinking twice, you hurried across the road, the familiar smell of roasted beans hitting you as soon as you stepped inside the shop. The bell above the door chimed, and the barista greeted you with a smile. You rattled off two orders: one for yourself and one for Tyler—black coffee, extra shot of espresso. You didn’t even need to ask what he wanted; you’d known his usual for months, committing it to memory in a way that only someone who cared a little too much would.

Within minutes, you were heading back to the gas station, clutching both cups in your hands. A tiny flicker of hope sparked inside you—maybe this would be the moment Tyler noticed. Maybe the fact that you remembered his drink order without needing to ask would mean something to him.

You spotted him leaning against the truck, his arms crossed as he waited for the tank to fill. His focus was elsewhere, probably already thinking ahead to the day’s chase, completely oblivious to the fact that you were heading his way with a small gesture of care.

“Here,” you said, holding out the cup toward him.

Tyler looked down at the coffee, momentarily confused before taking it from your hand. He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he hadn’t expected it.

“Black coffee. Extra shot of espresso,” you said softly, your heart picking up speed as you recited his order, hoping the words would register with him. Hoping that he’d realize you didn’t need to ask because you already knew.

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to yours briefly before he gave a slight nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, bringing the cup to his lips and taking his first sip.

That was it. Just a nod. No smile, no acknowledgment of the fact that you’d remembered his exact order, nothing. The flicker of hope you’d felt moments earlier dimmed into something closer to disappointment.

You stood there, feeling a bit like a fool for expecting anything more. After all, this was Tyler Owens—the same Tyler who never gave out compliments, the same Tyler who always kept his emotions locked up tight. Why had you thought this would be any different?

You shifted on your feet, holding your own cup a little tighter. “I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” you added, trying to keep the conversation going, hoping for... something.

He nodded again, glancing back toward the others as Boone finished filling up the tank. “Appreciate it,” he said flatly, his focus already shifting away from you and back to the task at hand.

You forced a smile, though the sting of his indifference was hard to ignore. You weren’t expecting grand gestures, but maybe just a little more than a nod. With the wind knocked out of your sails, you turned and headed toward the other side of the truck, sipping your own coffee, the bitter taste mirroring the feeling settling in your chest.

Lily caught your eye from where she stood talking to Dexter, and she shot you a questioning look as if to say, How’d it go? You gave her a small shake of your head and shrugged, silently communicating that it hadn’t gone the way you’d hoped.

The team loaded back into the vehicles, ready to hit the road again, but as you climbed into your seat, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. The weight of always trying, always hoping—only to come up short.

And the worst part? No matter how much it stung, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop caring, couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, one day, Tyler Owens would notice you the way you’d been noticing him all along.

The Wranglers team hit the open road, the small town shrinking behind them as fields stretched out on either side of the highway. You sat in the front passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, a map spread across your lap, though you both knew you wouldn’t really need it. Tyler had been storm chasing for years, and he could practically navigate these roads in his sleep. Your job as navigator was mostly just for show, a formality, but you took it seriously nonetheless—just like being the DJ.

Tyler drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between you, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The rest of the convoy followed behind, the team moving as one unit, always in sync, always chasing the next storm.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through your Spotify library, stopping at the playlist you had saved specifically for moments like this. The one titled simply “Tyler.” A collection of his favorite songs, the ones you’d spent months curating, learning the words to, and playing on repeat just to feel a little closer to him.

You had watched him during countless drives, noting which songs made him tap his fingers against the steering wheel, which ones he hummed along to, and—on rare occasions—which ones he’d actually sing under his breath. The playlist was like a map of his soul, each song a clue to who he was beneath the surface.

You pressed play, the first song filtering through the truck’s speakers, a familiar beat that you knew he liked. Your heart raced a little as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he’d notice.

The music filled the space between you, the silence replaced by lyrics you knew by heart—not because they were your favorite songs, but because they were his.

Tyler’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look over, didn’t comment. He just drove, his eyes fixed on the road as if the music were simply background noise.

You shifted in your seat, trying to hide your disappointment. Maybe he hadn’t realized yet. It was still early in the playlist, after all. You tapped your fingers against your knee, silently mouthing the words to the song, hoping that at some point, he’d notice. That he’d realize you weren’t just playing random songs—you were playing his songs. The ones that made him smile or relax, the ones that you knew by heart because of him.

Another song began, this one more upbeat. You couldn’t help but glance at him again, waiting for some kind of reaction—a nod, a hum, anything to show that he recognized the playlist as his own.

But if he noticed, he didn’t let it show. His face remained unreadable, his focus unbroken as the miles ticked by beneath the tires. He was calm, in control, as always.

You felt the familiar pang of disappointment settling in your chest, but you pushed it down, telling yourself not to get your hopes up. Tyler wasn’t the type to express things outwardly. You knew that. You’d known it from the beginning, but still... a part of you had hoped that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

You swallowed the feeling, keeping your gaze out the window, watching the landscape blur past. The music continued, your playlist running through the songs you’d carefully chosen, each one holding a piece of him. You wanted to believe that, at some point, he’d hear it. That he’d realize how much you’d been paying attention all along.

But for now, the road stretched on, and Tyler remained as distant as ever, his silence louder than the music that filled the truck.`

A week later, after a long day of chasing storms, the team had found their way to a small bar on the outskirts of town. The neon lights flickered in the windows, casting a soft glow over the worn-out booths and the dartboard that had seen better days. You followed them inside, but your mind wasn’t on the drinks or the games of pool and darts that the others had already started.

You slipped into a booth in the corner, away from the noise, with your bag slung over your shoulder. From it, you pulled out a book—the book. It was a self-help book you’d noticed Tyler reading last week when he thought no one was watching. You had immediately ordered a copy, telling yourself that it was purely out of interest, but deep down, you knew why. You hoped that if Tyler saw you reading it, he’d think you were smart. Maybe even that you shared the same interests. Maybe he'd even come over and talk to you about it.

The cover felt smooth under your fingers as you opened it, pretending to lose yourself in the words, but really, your eyes kept darting toward the team as they laughed and played darts a few feet away. Tyler stood at the dartboard, one hand gripping a beer, the other lazily aiming for the bullseye. His concentration was unwavering, just as it had been all day on the road, but you couldn’t help but glance his way every few minutes, hoping—wishing—he’d look over and see you.

You settled back against the worn leather of the booth, opening the book to where you’d bookmarked a random page. The words blurred slightly, not because you weren’t capable of understanding them, but because your mind wasn’t truly on the text. Instead, it wandered to the what-ifs, the scenarios where Tyler would walk over, slide into the booth across from you, and ask what you thought of the book. Maybe he’d smile, that rare but breathtaking smile you’d seen a hundred times, and the two of you would actually talk. Not just the usual team banter or logistics about the next chase, but really talk.

But as the minutes passed, the background noise of laughter and clinking glasses felt like a reminder of just how far away that possibility was. Tyler was still over by the dartboard, chatting with Boone as they took turns tossing darts. He hadn’t even glanced in your direction since they’d arrived at the bar.

You tried to focus on the book again, reading the same line twice before finally giving in and glancing at him once more. Nothing. No flicker of recognition that you were there, no acknowledgment of the effort you had put into reading his book, hoping it would make you stand out.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned your elbow on the table, resting your chin in your hand. Maybe you were trying too hard. Maybe all the little things—the playlist, the coffee, the book—were just things he’d never notice. Or maybe, and this thought stung the most, maybe you were invisible to him in that way. A friend. A coworker. But nothing more.

You looked down at the book again, reading a few more lines as if they could somehow distract you from the tight knot forming in your chest.

A few minutes later, Boone called out to you, holding up a pool cue as if inviting you to join their game. You shook your head, waving them off with a small smile, holding up the book as an excuse. Boone shrugged and turned back to Tyler, who was lining up his next throw.

For a split second, Tyler’s eyes flicked toward you. Your heart jumped, but before you could even process it, he threw the dart and turned back to the game as if the moment had never happened.

The diner was warm, the kind of warmth that came from too many bodies crammed into small booths and the lingering scent of coffee and fried food in the air. You sat across from Boone, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone cold, staring blankly at the chipped rim. The conversation around you was a low hum, drowned out by the thoughts racing through your head.

Tyler had left without a word this morning. Just gone. No explanation, no heads-up. Just a quick exchange with Dexter about her—Kate. The girl from Storm Par. The girl who’d seemed to have swept Tyler off his feet in the last two days. You hated to admit it, but the jealousy gnawed at you, each thought of them together, of him abandoning the team, felt like another crack in your resolve.

Boone nudged your arm, drawing you back to the present. “You alright?” His voice was low, concerned, but you just nodded, forcing a smile.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

Across from you, Ben, the British journalist tagging along with the team, was flipping through his notebook, occasionally scribbling something down. You could tell he was enjoying the chaos of American storm chasing, but his eyes kept flicking toward the empty seat next to you, the one Tyler should have been occupying. Everyone had noticed his absence, but no one had said much. Not directly, anyway.

Lily leaned over, her elbow brushing against Dani as they huddled together over their phones. “He’ll call,” Lily said with forced optimism, glancing at you. “Tyler sometimes does this—goes off on his own for a bit. He’ll be back.”

Dexter and Dani nodded in agreement, but Boone wasn’t so convinced. You weren’t either. Tyler wasn’t just gone. He was with her, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Night came, and still no word from Tyler. You’d tried calling him once, your stomach twisted in knots, but there was no answer. No response. You wanted to believe Lily and the others, that he would come back, but every passing hour chipped away at that hope.

The next morning, the skies had shifted. Clouds churned ominously in the distance, the kind of promising sight that normally would have Tyler barking orders and loading up the gear. But today, there was just a quiet, palpable tension as the team stood in the parking lot of the motel, debating whether to head out without him.

“I don’t know,” Boone muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the horizon. “Feels wrong going out without Tyler.”

You felt the same. It felt like a piece of the team was missing, the driving force behind it all, but the skies were waiting. And so was Ben. You glanced at the journalist, who had been watching you closely, eager for the action he’d come all the way from England to document. You couldn’t let his time go to waste.

“We have to go,” you said, your voice steady, even though your insides were anything but. “We’ve got the van and the RV. We can still get some good footage, even without Tyler’s truck.”

The team exchanged glances, unsure. But you stepped forward, taking the lead. “Lily’s drone can get us the close-up shots we need, and we’ve still got the cameras. We can’t afford to wait. We’ve got to keep the channel going, and we need content.”

Dexter raised an eyebrow, impressed by your sudden shift into leadership, but Boone still looked hesitant. “What about Tyler?” he asked, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

You forced a calm you didn’t really feel. “Tyler will catch up with us when he’s ready. Right now, we can’t just sit around. The storm’s not going to wait for us.”

Boone finally nodded, and with that, the decision was made. You piled into the van with Lily and the rest of the crew, leaving behind the uncertainty of where Tyler was, or when he’d come back. Ben hopped in last, his camera at the ready, his excitement barely contained as you pulled out onto the open road.

As you sat in the passenger seat, guiding them toward the brewing storm, a familiar weight settled in your chest. You were used to being the one behind the scenes, managing social media, making sure the team’s content reached the masses. But now, as the makeshift team lead in Tyler’s absence, you couldn’t help but wonder—if he ever did come back, would things ever be the same between you two?

Your fingers hovered over your phone, tempted to try calling him again. But instead, you locked the screen and turned your focus to the skies ahead. You had a team to lead now. Tyler’s absence hurt, but it wasn’t going to stop you.

The morning air hung heavy, thick with the kind of heat that settled into your bones. You were leaning against the side of the van, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to let the frustration bubbling under your skin show. Boone stood beside you, his phone buzzing on the dashboard where he’d tossed it. You both glanced at the screen as Tyler’s name flashed across it.

Boone let it ring, his jaw clenched tight. After a few seconds, it went to voicemail. Neither of you said a word, but the tension between you spoke volumes. Tyler was trying to reach out, but neither of you were ready to hear him out just yet.

Moments later, Lily’s phone chimed. She didn’t hesitate, picking it up and putting it on speaker before Tyler had a chance to duck out. "Hey, Tyler," she greeted, her voice neutral.

"You ready for the next chase?" she asked, her tone deceptively light, but you could hear the undercurrent of curiosity.

But before she could say anything more, Tyler cut her off. “No, we’re gonna need you guys for something.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, and Boone shot you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing in confusion. You mirrored his look. We’ll? What did Tyler mean by that?

Lily pressed, “Do we need to drive all the way to Sapulpa?”

Tyler’s voice was quick to respond. “No, no. We’ll come to you.”

That we echoed in your mind, sinking deeper with each moment of silence that followed. You exchanged another look with Boone, but neither of you said anything. There was an uneasy feeling settling in, but none of you knew exactly what to make of it.

Minutes later, a text from Tyler buzzed through to your phone. You looked down to see the name and address of a trailer company. “What is this?” you muttered, sharing the text with Boone and the others.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Dexter said, climbing into the van with a shrug.

When you arrived at the lot, confusion still lingered in the air as the team climbed out of the van. The parking lot was full of trailers, rows upon rows of them in every size and shape imaginable, glinting under the afternoon sun. The purpose of being here was still unclear.

Then you spotted Tyler’s truck pulling in. The familiar hum of the engine sent your heart rate spiking, but it wasn’t just him that got out.

Kate. She emerged from the passenger side, her face lit up with that same easy smile she’d been wearing ever since the two of them had met.

You felt the knot tighten in your stomach, the same one that had been there since she’d entered the picture two days ago. Dani was the first to break the silence. “You finally made it,” she called, a hint of relief in her voice.

Tyler gave her a smile as he stepped up to the group. “Ben, you stuck around,” he greeted the journalist, shaking his hand as Ben nodded.

“Turns out there’s more to this story than I thought,” Ben said, eyeing Tyler with curiosity.

Tyler grinned. “We got a new ending for you.”

Meanwhile, Dexter raised his hand in a mock salute toward Kate. “Look who it is. City girl.” He shot her a grin that was almost welcoming. Almost.

Lily wasn’t far behind. “What’s up, Kate?” she asked, sounding a little too casual as she strolled over to them.

Kate smiled, sliding easily into conversation with Dexter and Lily like she had been part of the crew all along. You watched as they started chatting about storm footage, Lily showing her clips on her phone from the chase the team had gone on without Tyler and Kate. It wasn’t just that they were talking, though. It was the way Kate’s eyes lit up at the footage, the way she leaned in closer, asking about Lily’s drone.

"Can you rig that drone to collect data?" Kate asked, her interest piqued.

Lily nodded, explaining how Cairo, her drone, worked and all the modifications she’d made. Watching Kate take such an interest in the team felt like watching her slip further into Tyler’s world. A world that, for so long, had felt like yours.

Tyler, meanwhile, was making his way over to Boone, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he began, his voice sincere. "I’m sorry."

Boone didn’t look at him, his jaw set. "Man, you abandoned me," Boone muttered, his voice tight with hurt. "I don’t know nothin’ about no makeup-"

Tyler cut him off with a smirk. “How about we launch some new rockets?”

Boone’s expression shifted, the tension breaking as he perked up. "You said rockets?" His tone was a mix of surprise and cautious excitement.

Tyler nodded, a grin forming. “I did.”

For a moment, it felt like the old Tyler and Boone—the way they always found common ground no matter what. But that still left you.

Tyler turned toward you, taking a few steps in your direction, his face softening. "I’m sorry," he began, but before he could get out anything more, Dani and the salesman walked up.

The apology hung in the air, unfinished, as you stood there, watching him. He hadn’t called you, hadn’t reached out directly. And now, standing in front of you with Kate by his side, the apology felt... hollow.

The van's engine hummed steadily as you followed behind Tyler’s truck, the road stretching endlessly ahead. You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the trailer lot. The silence between you and Lily was thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Outside, the sky was bruised with the remnants of a setting sun, casting long shadows over the landscape. But inside the van, it felt like the world had dimmed.

Your eyes were locked on the truck ahead, on the faint silhouette of Tyler’s head just visible through the back window. You knew Kate was sitting there, right beside him, and the thought twisted in your chest like a knife. You blinked, trying to hold it together, but the tears came anyway, silent and hot as they slid down your cheeks.

Lily glanced over at you, her brows knitting together in concern. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, giving you space. But you could feel her eyes on you, the way she hesitated before speaking.

“Hey…” her voice was soft, cautious. “You okay?”

It was a ridiculous question, really, but it was all she could say. You shook your head slightly, trying to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your jacket, but they kept coming, harder now.

Lily sighed, her hand reaching across the seat to give your arm a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to say it—you both knew. She had been the only one who knew. The only one you had confided in about how you felt about Tyler. She had believed, just like you, that maybe he’d wake up and see what was right in front of him.

But now... now it was clear. He had found someone else. Someone more exciting, more interesting. Someone like Kate.

The tears fell faster, and you pressed your fist to your mouth, trying to keep the sobs at bay. But your mind wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let you escape from the reality of it. Tyler hadn’t just left you behind. He had abandoned you without a second thought, without even realizing how much it hurt. One second he was there, and the next he was gone. Gone like you meant nothing.

And you were left wondering what you’d done wrong. Why you were never enough.

Lily’s voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts. “You know… none of this is your fault, right?”

You let out a shaky breath, but didn’t respond. How could it not be? You must have done something—been something—wrong for him to walk away like that, like you didn’t even matter.

“He’s a fool, you know,” Lily continued, her voice firmer now. “I really thought he’d pull his head out of his ass eventually. Realize what’s right in front of him.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “He never even saw me.”

Lily didn’t argue, and you were grateful for that. Because it was true. Tyler hadn’t seen you—not the way you wanted him to. You had spent so long hoping, waiting for him to notice, to realize that you loved him more than anyone ever could. But he didn’t. He found someone else instead, someone new and shiny like Kate.

Your thoughts spiraled further, the pain gnawing at you from the inside. You could barely breathe through it. God, Tyler couldn’t have cared less about someone who had loved him more. Loved him with everything you had.

“I’d say he broke my heart,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “but I think he broke a lot more than that.”

Lily’s hand was back on your arm, squeezing tighter this time. “You deserved better. You still do.”

You nodded, though it didn’t feel like that right now. All you’d ever wanted was to be enough for him. Just enough to be seen, to be cared for the way you cared for him. But that had been too much to ask.

The miles passed by, the road stretching endlessly ahead, just like this ache inside you. You watched the truck in front of you, the taillights glowing faintly as Tyler drove on, oblivious. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you at all—or if he was too caught up in Kate’s orbit now to even notice the wreckage he’d left behind.

You turned to look at Lily, her eyes full of empathy. “I don’t think I ever stood a chance, did I?” you asked quietly.

Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head softly. “No. I don’t think it was ever about you. He’s just… lost. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

You nodded, feeling that hollow truth settle in your bones. You weren’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he didn’t see you or the realization that you might have been waiting for someone who was never really yours to begin with.

The air was still, thick with the calm before the storm. The team had scattered, gathering near the RV to eat lunch and regroup before they moved on. Laughter echoed from where Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat in lawn chairs, enjoying the brief pause in the chase. Ben, Boone, and Tyler stood near Tyler's truck, their conversation drowned out by the low hum of the wind sweeping across the open field.

But you weren’t with them. You hadn’t been all day.

You sat alone in the van, the door open, your legs pulled up to your chest as you rested your forehead on your knees. Your eyes were closed, trying to block out the ache that had settled deep inside your chest. The tears had dried, but your face still felt tight from the tracks they left behind. You just wanted to disappear, to not feel the way you did.

Tyler’s laughter drifted over from where he stood with the others, and the sound made your heart twist painfully. He had no idea, no clue what was going on inside you.

Until Lily caught his eye.

She saw him glance toward the van, saw him hesitate, his body half-turned as if he wanted to approach but wasn’t sure if he should. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d find out—before your carefully hidden feelings were laid bare. The thought of you sitting there, hurting like this, was eating her alive.

With a deep breath, Lily made the decision. She walked over to where Tyler stood, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Tyler, can we talk for a second?”

He glanced down at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Lily glanced toward you in the van, then back at Tyler. Her voice dropped to a more serious tone. “It’s about her. I think... I think you need to know something.”

Tyler’s expression changed instantly. His eyes followed hers to where you sat, and he felt the weight of her words before she even said them. “What is it?”

Lily sighed. “She’s not just upset about the team. About you leaving. It’s more than that.” She hesitated, then spoke more quietly. “She’s been hurt by you bringing Kate on board. Especially without saying anything.”

Tyler frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “Hurt? Why would—”

“She cares about you, Tyler,” Lily interrupted. “More than you realize.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood there, frozen for a moment, processing what Lily had just told him. “Wait… you mean…?”

Lily nodded. “She’s had feelings for you for a long time. And when you left, it broke her. Then when you came back… with Kate...” Lily trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. The silence said enough.

Tyler felt the weight of it all settling on his shoulders. Guilt gnawed at him, the realization sinking in. He looked back toward you, sitting alone in the van, your back to him.

“Damn…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Lily replied softly. “But now you do.”

Tyler gave her a nod, his jaw clenched as he turned and started walking toward the van. His footsteps were slow, hesitant. The closer he got, the clearer it became—he hadn’t just hurt you by abandoning the team. He’d hurt you far worse without even realizing it.

He stopped halfway to the van, watching you. He could see it now—the tension in your shoulders, the way your head was bowed like you were trying to hold everything inside. It gutted him. But he wasn’t sure if approaching was the right thing to do.

After a moment, he made the choice. He walked the rest of the way to the van, coming to a stop just beside the open door. You didn’t look up at first, didn’t acknowledge his presence. But you knew he was there.

He sat down beside you, careful not to sit too close. The silence between you was thick, heavy with everything unspoken.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler started, his voice low. “For leaving. For abandoning you guys. It wasn’t fair to put all that on you.”

You still didn’t look at him, but he saw the way your hands tightened around your knees.

“I saw the footage,” he continued, trying to offer something, anything that might make it better. “You did great. You really stepped up. Led the team better than I could have.”

You said nothing, just kept your gaze down, the ache in your chest only growing with each word. None of this was what you needed to hear.

Tyler let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look… I talked to Lily. She told me…”

At that, you finally lifted your head, your heart lurching at the sound of those words. She told him. You felt the sting of betrayal—Lily had said too much.

“Tyler, don’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

But he didn’t stop. He needed to say it, needed to acknowledge it. “I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know you felt that way. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

You closed your eyes, your breath shaky as you tried to keep it together. “Please… just don’t.”

But he pressed on, his voice softer now. “I do care about you. I really do. But not in the way you want me to.”

Those words felt like a slap, and you swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again.

“I don’t need your apology,” you finally said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. “I don’t need your pity either.”

Tyler’s brows furrowed. “It’s not pity. I just… I want to make things right.”

You shook your head, letting out a bitter laugh that was more of a sob. “You can’t fix this, Tyler. You can’t just… say you’re sorry and make it all go away.”

He watched you, pain flickering in his eyes. He hated that he had done this to you, hated that his actions had caused you this kind of hurt.

“I never asked for much,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to be enough. Enough for you to notice me. To see me.”

Tyler looked away, guilt settling in his gut like a lead weight. “I’m sorry.”

The words fell flat. Meaningless.

You turned away from him, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that felt so shattered. “It was just a stupid crush anyway,” you muttered, forcing a small, hollow laugh. “I’ll get over it.”

But both of you knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just a crush. It had been so much more than that. And now… now it felt like you had lost something you couldn’t get back.

Tyler sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“There’s nothing you can do,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe there was a chance.”

He stayed silent, not knowing what else to say. He had broken something inside you, and no amount of apologies would fix it.

You wiped your eyes, standing up from the van. “I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, though it was more for yourself than for him.

And with that, you walked away, leaving Tyler sitting there, watching you go, knowing he had lost something he didn’t even realize he had.

[asidian]

Something this show does incredibly well are the little moments Charles and Edwin share, without words, that sell the idea that they've been each other's Most Important Person for thirty years.

This little section of a scene takes all of probably six seconds.

Crystal has just taken her memories and is ready to rush off to London alone to sort out her issues. And what does she do? She digs up Edwin's attitude from early in the series, from before he knew or particularly liked her, and throws his words back at them.

And then it cuts to the boys, and they get this stunning little exchange that happens without a single word spoken.

Charles just gives Edwin this look. Like: there. You see? That's come back to bite us, hasn't it.

And Edwin gives him a smile, and a little nod, like: I'm leaving this to you, please take care of it.

And then he just turns and goes.

It is an absolutely brilliant moment, honestly. You can see how often they've done some version of this before – how often Edwin's abrasive attitude toward people he doesn't know very well has earned him exactly that look from Charles to remind him that his bedside manner could use work.

And there's something so incredibly familiar about the whole exchange. These characters are very aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses. They have grown to work and live together so seamlessly that they understand how and when to compensate for things their partner isn't as adept at handling. They both know that Charles has the better emotional intuition in this partnership; they both know it's his charisma that smooths the way with clients, because he's been doing it for thirty years.

It's such a tiny aside, but it packs so much into those couple of seconds. Any other show would have needed an entire scene to get across this much history and chemistry and been-there-for-you-for-decades affection and mutual support.

Not this one. Hats off to the writers and the actors for this little gem. What a good moment.

[bunnys-kisses]

make amends (lando's version)

lando norris & max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, max gf!reader, sharing, forgiveness, missionary, sex w lando, protected sex (thank god!), rivalry, dirty talk/degradation, humiliation, language that can be seen a misogynistic, mean!max & lando, hair pulling

max version

bunny says: i know everything has been forgiven, but ya know... ya knoooow

max realized he had done something wrong, being presented with the evidence of the collision at the austrian grand prix had him a little second-guessing himself.

"shit." he muttered to himself. he knew that he was going to have to make it up to lando. most would just talk it out in private or even in front of the cameras. but max knew that he royally fucked up.

and it would take a fair bit for the other driver to be willing to make amends. but he knew the way that lando looked at you, how you'd often wave and him and his eyes would go wide before he dumbly waved back.

max knew exactly what would patch up their relationship. he told you over dinner before he ate you out in the bathroom. your dress pushed up and his nose against your clit. you whimpered that you would do it for him, anything to help his career!

"a night. have her, all to yourself. and all is forgiven." max said to the other driver as they were standing near a wall before they had to start practice.

lando looked at him, "have her? like, fuck her."

max's jaw tensed, "i don't want to hear anything about it afterwards. you get one fuck and that's it." he showed his finger indicating how many times lando could fuck you.

"i thought i was getting one night?" lando looked at him curiously, "how long do you think it takes me to get off?" he laughed, "but i accept your offer. name a time and place." then nudged his fellow drive in the arm.

the hotel you were staying at with max in silverstone was beautiful. then again all the places that you stayed with him were beautiful. you could tell that max was tense.

"it'll be fine, max." you said as you adjusted the lacy bra that was picked out for the evening. a harsh yellow and red, like the redbull colours. max's last ditch effort to establish some kind of dominance. you were just thankful you looked nice in it.

his eyes raked your body, "i don't want him to get the wrong idea, but it was all i could think of." his eyes met yours, "he probably doesn't even know how to fuck well."

you went over to him and took his face in your hands, "you're acting like this has never happened before. i'm pretty sure many girlfriends and wives have had to help in making sure her partner didn't have a target on his back!"

he took you by the waist and pressed his scratchy cheek against your middle. he sighed, "if he does anything."

"then." you replied as you carded your fingers through his brown hair, "he won't know what hit him."

when lando came, you greeted him at the door. you were standing there in the skimpy lingerie. the other drive chuckled, "possessive much, eh, max?"

max looked over, he was seated on the couch. he looked at him and narrowed his eyes. his attention was brought to your ass as you went in and pulled him in for a tight hug.

lando hugged you back before you took him by the hand and brought him inside. lando kicked his sneakers off and dumbly followed you through the lavish hotel room. you got into the bedroom and sat down with a smile. lando could feel max close behind before he went over and sat on the edge of the bed. lando asked, "why are you still here?"

max made a face with his bottom lip stuck out and shrugged, "have to make sure you don't try anything stupid."

lando chuckled, "right, right. not worried that you're little minx of a girlfriend is not gonna try anythin' herself?"

you looked at lando and pulled his face towards you, "will all be forgiven after tonight?"

lando laughed, "depends how good you fuck me." then ran his tongue across the top row of his teeth like a predator. he fell into the massive bed with you and felt you start to unbutton his shirt.

lando's hands wandered your exposed skin and his lips found yours. he helped you got his clothes off, especially his belt which almost hit max when lando got it off. once he was naked, he looked over at max as he undid the bra and exposed your breasts to him.

"pretty girl." he chuckled, "don't ya think, mad max?" then grinned at the other man.

max replied, "yeah, i know. i get it every night." he tried to keep a cool head which lando peeled your soaked panties off of you.

lando spoke like you weren't under him, naked and ready to be fucked. he said to max, "ya know, i think you should whore her out more often."

max frowned as he reached over and brushed your face with his knuckle, "i like to keep what is mine." you could feel the energy between the two of them. they were rivals and one was fucking the other's girlfriend.

lando chuckled, "i bet charles would love to have a spin with her." he spoke about you like you were one of the cars on the track. like you should have mclaren or redbull tattooed on your ass.

regardless it made you squirm as you felt lando's cock press against your stomach, he was painfully hard and leaky against your belly button. he was decently sized but not so much that it was intimidating.

max looked up at the fellow driver and said, "let her on top and she goes fast. don't you, mijn liefje?" then looked down at you. he could tell you were getting hot and heavy from it all.

lando started to grope your breasts as he made out with you once more. his cock was squished between your bodies and he was starting to feel hot all over.

max threw the shiny packaging of a condom at lando's head and said, "wear it."

lando picked it up from the bed and looked at max, "aw, where's your fun there, mad max?"

max replied, "i'm not raising your fucking bastard." he could feel a little hot under the collar as he watched you underneath the other driver.

lando admired your nude body as he sat up right, straddling your waist as he put the condom on. he made a noise and said, "i should've said it didn't fit." he looked at max out of the corner of his eye.

max replied, "why, they're too big?"

lando shot daggers at the other man before he bent you in half. your knees to your chest and your glistening pussy exposed to him. he licked his lips before he said, "i'll fit in here just fine though, i wonder if you could ever stretch her out. or am i the biggest she's ever had?"

he made a face when you pulled him back by the hair for him to focus on you. he looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

"do you want to fuck me or max?" you replied, you could feel the anticipation creep up into your throat.

lando smiled at you and pressed the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. he held you by the thighs and pressed into you, "i'd rather fuck you, love. plus you got the pretty pussy." he went in for another rough kiss as he bottomed out into you.

you felt the air leave your lungs from the feeling of his cock spearing your pussy open. you dug your manicured nails into his shoulders as he got all the way to the root.

"holy shit." lando grumbled, he looked over to max as he loomed over you, "ya fuck her good, huh? what else does this little slut like?" his grin was wicked.

max held you by your hair and looked in your eyes, then to lando. he replied, "she likes when you're rough. she likes to be used, ask nicely and she might lick the cum out of your uniform."

you blushed and looked away, but max gripped your hair and make you look at him.

"tell him, mijn liefje."

you whined when you replied, "i sucked him off with his uniform still on!" then whimpered when he yanked on your hair more, "and then i licked the cum out of it when i made a mess!"

lando looked at max and said, "where the fuck did you find her?"

max went back to stroking your hair and replied, "they don't 'em like her anymore.' he smiled, feeling a bit smug by how impressed lando was with you, "there's no money in the world that could buy a girl like this."

lando gripped onto your hips as he rocked into you. your pussy was nice around his cock, "well, she is a fine piece of ass. a nice little whore to bury your cock in."

max replied, he laid out beside you. he felt hot in the jeans and t-shirt he wore. he also felt out of place. he looked at you, your naked body under the other man. "wouldn't have kept her as long if she wasn't good at fucking. i don't have the patience to train someone."

"oh, so she was already broken in?"

max shook his head as he reached for you breasts and palmed one of them, "oh no. she was brand new when i got my hands on her. never even sucked cock before." the language they were using made you feel like a toy that had been used over and over again. but it also made the heat rise to your ears.

you felt squished under lando and your heart was in your throat. max rarely spoke about you like that, in such terms. but behind closed doors, well you were just the verstappan's sex toy who he got to parade around the paddock.

make the likes of lando jealous.

"trained her huh, you should take a second career in girl training." lando chuckled before he looked back at you. he cupped your face and moved your head from side to side, "world needs more good little sluts like you."

your pussy clenched around lando's cock and he loved the feeling of that. you whimpered as he started to pick up the pace. the sounds of sex and your heavy breathing filled the air.

you matched lando's pace as he cock bullied your insides. your panted and moaned, you clawed at his back, making a mess of it! your heart hammered in your chest as you laid under him.

max's hand was in your hair as the man watched you being fucked. he hoped that lando kept his end of the bargain, or else he was going to make sure that smug fucker wasn't getting podium in silverstone. he didn't give away his girl's cunt for nothing.

"that's a good girl." lando said, "fuck yeah."

he managed to pull, one, two and eventually three orgasms out of you. you were a mess under him. each orgasm hit like a train and turned you brain off. you panted and whined like an animal as he just kept going.

sweat covered your body and you face felt hot. your cunt squeezed his cock as if it never wanted to let it go. the entire scene was hot. if only the press got their hands on this story, then everyone would know that you were a filthy whore.

with a few more hard thrusts of his hips, lando gripped onto your hips and shoved his entire length into your cunt. he came in the condom with your wet cunt around it. part of him wish he could've bare-backed you.

"fuckin' hell!" he croaked. his legs felt like jelly as his pace staggered then slowed. he could feel the pinpricks of heat at the nape of his neck. the rush made his head throb.

"lando." you whimpered.

lando looked down at you and licked the sweat off your cheek, "good girl." he got off of you and went to get rid of the condom. he was panting like an animal as he staggered over to the waste bin to toss it out. he leaned against the wall for a moment, the energy taken out of him.

"holy shit." he said.

max had you in his arms. still in his clothes. you had taken to rubbing your achy cunt all over the expensive calvin kleins. you left a sticky wet spot on the thigh.

"you liked that didn't you?" he asked. you whined in response.

"hey verstappen." lando said as he came back to bed, "give me another condom, you said all night."

max looked at you then him as lando crawled behind you. he leaned over to the nightstand behind him and pulled out the box.

"value pack? are you that cheap, verstappen?"

"no. because when you eventually get tired with her. i'm going next."