#designed holding automobile

[tswhiisftteedr]

Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot

☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :

They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2330

Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!

Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.

Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’

And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.

Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.

As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.

Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.

“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had  no idea  what  you had done to be a tease in this particular  situation.

While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.

“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’

“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.

“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.

“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.

"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.

"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.

"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"

You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.

"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.

Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.

You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.

"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.

Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.

As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.

And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.

"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."

"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.

The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.

Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.

Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."

While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.

With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.

His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.

“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"

“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”

"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"

"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."

“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”

“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.

"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."

"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.

He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.

Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.

Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.

"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.

As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.

“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.

In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.

"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.

And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"

You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.

With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.

Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."

After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.

“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.

“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.

“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.

Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’

Thanks @starlightfire97 for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize. Buy me a book. And support my art account @maviscarlettie

Tag list for Adam: @sunflower-lilly @moonbloom226

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

American education has all the downsides of standardization, none of the upsides

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We moved to America in 2015, in time for my kid to start third grade. Now she's a year away from graduating high school (!) and I've had a front-row seat for the US K-12 system in a district rated as one of the best in the country. There were ups and downs, but high school has been a monster.

We're a decade and a half into the "common core" experiment in educational standardization. The majority of the country has now signed up to a standardized and rigid curriculum that treats overworked teachers as untrustworthy slackers who need to be disciplined by measuring their output through standard lessons and evaluations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Core

This system is rigid enough, but it gets even worse at the secondary level, especially when combined with the Advanced Placement (AP) courses, which adds another layer of inflexible benchmarks to the highest-stakes, most anxiety-provoking classes in the system:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Advanced_Placement

It is a system singularly lacking in grace. Ironically, this unforgiving system was sold as a way of correcting the injustice at the heart of the US public education system, which funds schools based on local taxation. That means that rich neighborhoods have better funded schools. Rather than equalizing public educational funding, the standardizers promised to ensure the quality of instruction at the worst-funded schools by measuring the educational outcomes with standard tools.

But the joke's on the middle-class families who backed standardized instruction over standardized funding. Their own kids need slack as much as anyone's, and a system that promises to put the nation's kids through the same benchmarks on the same timetable is bad for everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/28/give-me-slack-2/

Undoing this is above my pay-grade. I've already got more causes to crusade on than I have time for. But there is a piece of tantalyzingly low-hanging fruit that is dangling right there, and even though I'm not gonna pick it, I can't get it out of my head, so I figured I'd write about it and hope I can lazyweb it into existence.

The thing is, there's a reason that standardization takes hold in so many domains. Agreeing on a common standard enables collaboration by many entities without any need for explicit agreements or coordination. The existence of the ANSI/SAE J563 standard automobile auxiliary power outlet (AKA "car cigarette lighter") didn't just allow many manufacturers to make replacement lighter plugs. The existence of a standardized receptacle delivering standardized voltage to standardized contacts let all kinds of gadgets be designed to fit in that socket.

Standards crystallize the space of all possible ways of solving a problem into a range of solutions. This inevitably has a downside, because the standardized range might not be optimal for all applications. Think of the EU's requirement for USB-C charger tips on all devices. There's a lot of reasons that manufacturers prefer different charger tips for different gadgets. Some of those reasons are bad (gouging you on replacement chargers), but some are good (unique form-factor, specific smart-charging needs). USB-C is a very flexible standard (indeed, it's so flexible that some people complain that it's not a standard at all!) but there are some applications where the optimal solution is outside its parameters.

And still, I think that the standardization on USB-C is a force for good. I have drawers full of gadgets that need proprietary charger tips, and other drawers full of chargers with proprietary tips, and damned if I can make half of them match up. We've continued our pandemic lockdown tradition of my wife cutting my hair in the back yard, and just tracking the three different charger tips for the three clippers she uses is an ongoing source of frustration. I'd happily trade slightly sub-optimal charging for just being able to plug any of those clippers into the same cable I charge my headphones, phone, tablet and laptop on.

The standardization of American education has produced all the downsides of standardization – a rigid, often suboptimal, one-size-fits-all system – without the benefits. With teachers across America teaching in lockstep, often from the same set texts (especially in the AP courses), there's a massive opportunity for a commons to go with the common core.

For example, the AP English and History classes my kid takes use standard texts that are often centuries old and hard to puzzle out. I watched my kid struggle with texts for learning about "persuasive rhetoric" like 17th century pamphlets that inspired anti-indigenous pogroms with fictional accounts of "Indian atrocities."

It's good for American schoolkids to learn about the use of these blood libels to excuse genocide, but these pamphlets are a slog. Even with glossaries in the textbooks, it's a slow, word-by-word matter to parse these out. I can't imagine anyone learning a single thing about how speech persuades people just by reading that text.

But there's nothing in the standardized curriculum that prevents teachers from adding more texts to the unit. We live in an unfortunate golden age for persuasive texts that inspire terrible deeds – for example, kids could also read core Pizzagate texts and connect the guy who shot up the pizza parlor to the racists who formed a 17th century lynchmob.

But teachers are incredibly time-constrained. For one thing, at least a third of the AP classroom time seems to be taken up with detailed instructions for writing stilted, stylized "essays" for the AP tests (these are terrible writing, but they're easy to grade in a standardized way).

That's where standardization could actually deliver some benefits. If just one teacher could produce some supplemental materials and accompanying curriculum, the existence of standards means that every other teacher could use it. What's more, any adaptations that teachers make to that unit to make them suited to their kids would also work for the other teachers in the USA. And because the instruction is so rigidly standardized, all of these materials could be keyed to metadata that precisely identified the units they belonged to.

The closest thing we have to this are "marketplaces" where teachers can sell each other their supplementary materials. As far as I can tell, the only people making real money from these marketplaces are the grifters who built them and convinced teachers to paywall the instructional materials that could otherwise form a commons.

Like I said, I've got a completely overfull plate, but if I found myself at loose ends, trying to find a project to devote the rest of my life to, I'd be pitching funders on building a national, open access portal to build an educational commons.

It may be a lot to expect teachers to master the intricacies of peer-based co-production tools like Git, but there's already a system like this that K-8 teachers across the country have mastered: Scratch. Scratch is a graphic programming environment for kids, and starting with 2019's Scratch 3.0, the primary way to access it is via an in-browser version that's hosted at scratch.mit.edu.

Scratch's online version is basically a kid- (and teacher-)friendly version of Github. Find a project you like, make a copy in your own workspace, and then mod it to suit your own needs. The system keeps track of the lineage of different projects and makes it easy for Scratch users to find, adapt, and share their own projects. The wild popularity of this system tells us that this model for a managed digital commons for an educational audience is eminently achievable.

So when students are being asked to study the rhythm of text by counting the numbers of words in the sentences of important speeches, they could supplement that very boring exercise by listening to and analyzing contemporary election speeches, or rap lyrics, or viral influencer videos. Different teachers could fork these units to swap in locally appropriate comparitors – and so could students!

Students could be given extra credit for identifying additional materials that slot into existing curricular projects – Tiktok videos, new chart-topping songs, passages from hot YA novels. These, too, could go into the commons.

This would enlist students in developing and thinking critically about their curriculum, whereas today, these activities are often off-limits to students. For example, my kid's math teachers don't hand back their quizzes after they're graded. The teachers only have one set of quizzes per unit, and letting the kids hold onto them would leak an answer-key for the next batch of test-takers.

I can't imagine learning math this way. "You got three questions wrong but I won't let you see them" is no way to help a student focus on the right areas to improve their understanding.

But there's no reason that math teachers in a commons built around the (unfortunately) rigid procession of concepts and testing couldn't generate procedural quizzes, specified with a simple programming language. These tests could even be automatically graded, and produce classroom stats on which concepts the whole class is struggling with. Each quiz would be different, but cover the same ground.

When I help my kid with her homework, we often find disorganized and scattered elements of this system – a teacher might post extensive notes on teaching a specific unit. A publisher might produce a classroom guide that connects a book to specific parts of the common core. But these are scattered across the web, and they aren't keyed to the specific, standard components of common core and AP.

This is a standardized system that is all costs, no benefits. It has no "architecture of participation" that lets teachers, students, parents, practitioners and even commercial publishers collaborate to produce a commons that all may share and improve upon.

In an ideal world, we'd get rid of standardization in education, pay teachers well, give them the additional time they needed to prepare exciting and relevant curriculum, and fund all our schools based on need, not parents' income.

But in the meanwhile, we could be making lemonade of out lemons. If we're going to have standardization, we should at least have the collaboration standards enable.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/16/flexibility-in-the-margins/#a-commons

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

Introduction

The 1968 Dodge Charger R/T stands as an enduring symbol of American muscle car history. With its distinctive design, powerful engine options, and thrilling performance, this legendary vehicle has captured the hearts of car enthusiasts for generations. In this article, we’ll take a closer look at the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T, exploring its history, specifications, and the enduring appeal that makes it a true automotive icon.

The Birth of a Legend

The story of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T begins with its debut during the golden age of American muscle cars. Dodge, a brand known for its commitment to performance, introduced this model to compete with other muscle car giants of its time. The Charger R/T was an instant hit, thanks to its sleek, aerodynamic design and powerful engine options.

Design and Styling

Striking Exterior

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

One of the most distinctive features of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T is its unforgettable exterior design. The fastback roofline, hidden headlights, and full-width grille give it an aggressive and unmistakable presence on the road. It was a design ahead of its time, setting trends that would influence future generations of muscle cars.

Luxurious Interior

While the Charger R/T was known for its performance, it didn’t compromise on comfort and luxury. The interior featured high-quality materials, bucket seats, and a driver-oriented cockpit. This combination of style and comfort made it a versatile car, equally suitable for daily driving and spirited weekend getaways.

Heart-Pounding Performance

Engine Options

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

Under the hood, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T offered a range of powerful engines. The most iconic choice was the 440 Magnum V8, producing a whopping 375 horsepower. For those seeking even more power, the legendary 426 Hemi V8 was available, delivering an astonishing 425 horsepower. These engines ensured that the Charger R/T lived up to its reputation as a high-performance machine.

Thrilling Performance

With its potent engines and well-tuned suspension, the Charger R/T delivered an exhilarating driving experience. It could accelerate from 0 to 60 mph in under 7 seconds, a remarkable feat for its time. The combination of raw power and precise handling made it a favorite among drag racers and car enthusiasts.

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

Enduring Popularity

Cultural Impact

The 1968 Dodge Charger R/T wasn’t just a car; it became a cultural icon. Its appearances in movies and television shows, most notably in “Bullitt” and “The Dukes of Hazzard,” cemented its status as a symbol of American automotive excellence. Even today, the Charger R/T continues to inspire filmmakers and car enthusiasts alike.

Collector’s Item

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

In the world of classic cars, the Charger R/T holds a special place. Its limited production numbers and timeless design have made it a sought-after collector’s item. Restored and well-maintained models can fetch impressive prices at auctions, reflecting the enduring demand for this iconic muscle car.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T remains a timeless classic in the world of American muscle cars. Its bold design, powerful engines, and cultural significance have ensured its place in automotive history. Whether you’re a car enthusiast or simply appreciate the beauty of a well-crafted automobile, the Charger R/T is a vehicle that continues to captivate and inspire.

1968 Dodge Charger R/T

FAQs

Is the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T still in production? No, the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T is not in production today. It is a classic car from the late 1960s.

What is the price range for a well-maintained Charger R/T from 1968? The price of a well-maintained 1968 Dodge Charger R/T can vary widely, but it often falls within the range of $50,000 to $100,000 or more, depending on the model’s condition and rarity.

How fast can the Charger R/T accelerate from 0 to 60 mph? The Charger R/T could accelerate from 0 to 60 mph in under 7 seconds, thanks to its powerful engine options.

What are some notable appearances of the 1968 Dodge Charger R/T in pop culture? The Charger R/T is famous for its appearances in movies like “Bullitt” and “The Dukes of Hazzard,” where it played iconic roles.

Were there any special editions of the 1968 Charger R/T? Yes, Dodge offered special editions and performance packages for the Charger R/T, including the 426 Hemi engine option, which was a favorite among enthusiasts.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

All I Have Is Yours

Chapter One

Rated Explicit | Warning: Usual period drama

Ao3

Chapter Two

“I could take everything and leave you with nothing. Your only choice would be to work at a brothel.” The prospector's words are cold, sharp as the metal of a newly made pickaxe.

“Would you… Visit me?” There you sit in the carriage-style automobile with Norton beside you, “I would hope you will allow me to still show my love for you.” Shy as you look down and toy with the button on your coat. “For free of course! I don't deserve a cent of your money.”

Norton frowns, his grip on his knee pressing hard enough his blunt nails are digging into the fabric of his new pants. A full suit with a long coat, something he never thought he would ever afford let alone own.

You place your hand on top of his, gloveless so he can feel the warmth of your hand, “I love you, Mr. Campbell. I do not expect it in return but I hope you do not mind my love for you.” 

He stares at the wedding ring on your finger, it matches his own. A simple design, gold, and he weighs on him for he is using it to keep you on a leash. A leash you happily put on yourself as you hand him the control and power he always wanted. No, Norton wants security and not have to fight for scraps every day of his life!

Norton sneers as he hisses out with venom yet it holds no potency, “Pathetic.” His head turns towards the window but his eyes are on you, the sweet smile on your pretty face he can see through the window reflection. You would– Have given him everything.

The paperwork was completed, the marriage certificate was signed, and just recently he got to see your father's company as the owner. It was in vigoring.

The arrival to the manor, his manor now, couldn't happen sooner. From what he read in the newspaper about your father, he built this place in honor of your mother who passed after your birth. The article says he put his ‘blood, sweat, and tears’ into this place but Norton has seen your father’s hands. That man has never seen a day of hard labor in his life.

The driver stops in front of the entrance to first let you out then Notorn, a bow follows and they return to the car to park in the back. You stand beside your husband, hand nervous to hold his.

A sharp whistle comes from those no longer chapped lips, “All this is mine.” Greed.

“I do hope you like it here.” You stay following him to the door where the butler opens it and slightly bows as he delivers a form greeting and welcome.

Then your husband slams the door on you, right in front of your face. 

“Do not let that waste of space in!” He ordered the butler as he took off his coat and tossed it to the maid who stood there utterly shocked and holding his coat in her waiting arms.

There is silence as he stands there with his fist clenching and unclenching, a rage that spilled threats to take him. He breathes in and out, slowly as he counts. His right hand touches his left hand where he feels your lingering warmth, those pretty eyes of yours that easily express your love for him.

The prospector has won, he has everything that bastard owned all in his name, he even has you as an insult to injury. You, pretty you, this wedding ring is based on a drawing you made and hoped he liked before commissioning it to be crafted.

“Damn it.” Hating himself at the moment, his head turning slightly at the door is so brutally closed on you with the adding insult of ordering the butler to not open it for you. Worse is there is no knock from you or so much as a peep of distress. Self-punishment? Were you expecting him to be a cruel husband? One who would give you a cold shoulder and an even colder bed? Norton’s hands clinched into fists has he hated the idea of proving such a thing right, would it not be better if he had you fonding over him while your father rolled in his grave? Worse is when you have his children! Your father’s name will die with him and the Campbell name will takeover everything all things the bastard made.

You stood there for a while, it is cold out here too, but you waited. Then you sit down at the entrance and look up at the clouds, you pretend each cloud has a story. Childish, maybe, but you lived a sheltered life and your only form of freedom was gazing upon the cloud outside of rooms you often lingered in.

A cold wind blows, the first snowfall starts and you smile wide as you stand up with your hands open to catch the snowflakes.

The door opened, the light limited by the tall body blocking it, “Get inside.” When you heard him, you jumped a bit. He hates that, which makes him feel bad even though he clings to his hatred. It was easy when he just saw your father; when he was digging through dirt. Now he finds himself both given power and control willingly by the silver spoon-fed child of that asshole.

“Thank you!” Polite. He wants to make you cry. “Tsk.” Ignoring how you are shivering yet not moving after from the door once inside. “Well! Go get warmed up.” He moves to the side letting you pass him, he can smell the perfume you wore today and see the snowflakes that got caught in your hair. So beautiful and his.

“Okay.” You leave to go upstairs.

The butler is giving him a nasty look.

Norton avoids you the rest of the day until dinner is served in the dining area. A dining area, the type he had seen only once when he was looking through a window of a house when he was cold and alone a New Year’s Day. A party as everyone celebrated… He wished he threw that brick at that damn window to this day.

As the former miner sits here with you at the opposite end of the fairly wide table, the dinner is prepared in a lovely display. It looks gluttonous how much there is for just the two of you— He doesn't know where to start so he looks to you only to see you are served something different.

The servants give you soup after seeing you more than once sniffling and coughing. Oh… He glances away silently cursing himself knowing what he did likely has gotten sick.

“(Name),” He cannot help the pain in his chest when you gaze upon him like he is the most beloved creature you have ever seen. “...” Looking away embarrassed.

“I understand.” You say.

“No, you don’t.” He says with a bitter laugh, “Your pops made sure you would not have to understand.”

This is true, your father kept you safe, clothed, fed, and loved; though his love could be overbearing and controlling. Your life was schooled, and mapped out, and you had no say in the changes and decisions made. It was only after his death did you make your first choice. In the hospital you found Norton there covered in bandages and casks, there you told him your proposal.

“Do you like it?” Watching him at first take cautious bites then becoming ravenous. Grabbing the plates, and though he did his best to have table manners, he ate a grand portion of the food made.

He is about to speak but stops himself the second he does, Norton nods his head as swallows the food in his mouth, “Not bad.”

You chuckle at his words.

[wonderfulwonderrful]

Grand Prix Elite Academy (1/10) +18 | professor!Toto x reader fem!futuredriver, sewiss, carlos x reader

Summary: Your life turns 360 degrees after receiving your acceptance letter for the Grand Prix Elite Academy, the most exclusive and prestigious Formula One college designed to shape the future drivers of the motorsport world. You will try to navigate your new life among the Monaco elites, survive the campus dynamics and rivalries between the university faculties, and try to win this year's cup to beat an undefeated Mercedes while trying to befriend your eclectic driver classmates, join the wild Red Bull parties, have a couple of make-outs under the racing circuit benches, lose your v-card and get over that stupid crush you have on professor Toto. Will you make it alive to graduation? Drive to Greatness! Genre: Romance, smut, and comedy. Author's note: This is a Formula One college AU fanfiction set in an elite academy in Monaco, where the F1 Teams are Faculties, their Team Principals are professors, the FIA is the college board, and all the grid drivers are your classmates. You are accepted under a scholarship program that supports young, talented girls, having lots to catch on to after years of putting your racing dreams on hold and becoming the new girl in class, which is always challenging, especially when all of you share one campus. Masterlist: all chapters here

Chapter 1: Hi, Society

"Everyone who lives in Monaco is filthy rich."

Well, that's a half-lie that people say; the working class also lives there, and the families and people who work for the rich are on the outskirts of town near the border with France. 

Yours is one of those: a middle-class family of three (you, dad, and your dog). So, a chunk of your day goes to commuting downtown to attend school and help with the auto parts shop, your family-run business.

You had the misfortune (now you call it that!) to be raised by a hardcore motorsports madman in what you consider one of the most F1 households of all time in the most F1 city in the world. 

That madman is your dad, a middle-aged man who is apparently good-looking (judging by the attention he gets from female customers; okay, he is in shape; you get that part) but has remained single for the longest time.

He is a hard-working mechanic who invested all his inheritance in opening an automobile repair shop and a twin business, an auto parts and components store located on the same street, which seems logical. 

You are one of those households that loves everything related to cars and motorsports, a trait you inherited in your cells from birth.

Yes, yes, you are a "daddy's girl." It's embarrassing, but he's your hero.

Thanks to him, you were that "weird" little girl at elementary school who could name all the parts of a car's engine and their exact functions. You could explain the mechanics and physics behind a motor by high school, and you were able to repair and customize cars and motorbikes by your senior years. 

-

Daydreaming was a fundamental part of your childhood and still is, but nowadays, the therapist calls it MaDD or trauma coping. 

Back in the day, you loved sneaking into the driver's seat of any of the expensive sports cars the clients took to the workshop for repair. You imagined it morphing into a racing car as you drove it to high speeds on a race track. 

Of course, you always ended up winning the Grand Prix! And that fantasy lasted until either one of the mechanics or your dad got you out of the unit.

-

By the time you turned eight, your family made an effort to take you karting. It's expensive, way more complex than you expected, and heavy on the body!

You always ended up exhausted after practice or racing, but you didn't care because you were killing the game, impressing people along the way, and winning piles of trophies!

After several years of success, you got sponsored and made it to Formula Renault, where winning was also a regular thing.

Then, you continued to Formula 4, where you started to succeed, too. By that point, you were utterly emotionally invested in your racing career, working hard to make your dream come true and make your parents proud.

But that sad September, your mom got sick. 

-

After her passing, nothing was quite the same, and your racing dreams got buried along with her, leaving you and your dad an emotional and financial wreck and with a lot of debt in the bank due to her treatments.

-

"Time heals everything," 

That's another half-lie people tell. 

You never get over a loss of that kind, but you learn to live your life the best way possible and find joy after it.

-

So, as you go through your teen years, you feel your life is starting over as if someone else lived your past.

You choose to help more with the family business after noticing your father is tired and stressed every day and wanting to be there for him.

You take full responsibility for running the auto parts and components store. After school, you go there every day, and that's where you practically live. 

The shop is in an old part of town. It used to be a cheap neighborhood, but not today. It's still not the most luxurious town area, but the location is excellent nowadays. 

As the business grew, the shop underwent several remodels, more like improvements made by your uncle Marco (your late mom's brother) and your godfather, who works in construction.

The store is bright, clean, and organized. It has tall white walls with blue accents (the ones you helped paint), neat grey polished concrete floors where you can almost watch your reflection, and pendant lights in the ceiling over the aisles full of product racks. Several pennants and large posters give the place character. 

Most of the time, you are behind the large counter with the cashier and computer by the entrance, where you run the stock, attend customer payments, do your homework, and watch Netflix (on slow days).

Next to you is always your dog, with his bed and bowl, and behind you is an entire wall of shelves with premium products.

The store's most recent and exciting acquisition is a new set of automatic slide doors and a large welcoming rug with the business logo. 

God! How boring is your life?!

Still, you are grateful for those; on busy days, you want to tear your ears off at the nonstop sound of the bell atop the door.

The store is at the corner of the street, and the large workshop is two buildings away across the road. 

Both are different from your usual mechanic's spots; yes, there is still oil in some parts, but this is Monaco, after all! If you want to attract clients in this city, you must look nice.

Your dad lives and breathes at the workshop. 

Your household is one of those that leaves the family home very early in the morning and returns at night to sleep. 

-

As things get financially healthier again, your dad and godfather work hard to renovate the shop's attic slash old storage space into a tiny apartment for you.

It's a simple but cozy open-floor concept: a one-bedroom with a kitchenette and counter bar for two stools, a sitting area with a bulky love seat and a TV.

Your desk is next to the bay window, facing the street and sky; this is your favorite spot to study. 

A queen-size bed with a nightstand completes the space, along with the door leading to the world's tiniest bathroom. 

You love this rabbit hole so much. Your dad and godfather allowed you to choose the style of decor and furniture (you went for minimal and boho), and you love it more than your actual home (a more spacious two-and-a-half-bedroom apartment with a small balcony nearer the mountains).

-

As you grow older and reach legal age, you start doing everything at the shop by yourself, saving the money spent on extra hands. 

From cleaning to stock control, acting like a sales lady and the store influencer, posting social media content, updating the website once you convinced your dad to sell online, and taking care of your dog, now the business mascot.

People love him! He always gets pats on the head from customers, and some return just for him. He is a lazy old basset hound named "Diesel."

You must ensure that Diesel wears his bandana with the shop logo daily, as it is his official employee uniform. He is your childhood dog, and the idea of losing him makes you anxious.

-

By this point, you speak fluent "Mechanic" which should be considered an entire language thanks to growing up surrounded by them. 

Depending on the photo, you can't avoid smiling or laughing when you open up your childhood photo albums. 

There are many pictures from your birthday parties held at the workshop. In them, you appear surrounded by alpha males with tattoos, beards, and muscles as you blow the candles off a Barbie-inspired cake with the entire place decorated in glittery pink party decor. 

That's your life in a nutshell.

Nowadays, since you are a full-grown woman in their eyes, they act overprotective of you, especially when a boy your age tries to flirt with you while buying something with their parent's credit card. 

But they get it so wrong! You don't recall when or how, but you started to get attracted to men, not boys, older men. 

That middle-aged group of guys that make you beg, "Please run me over with your sports car," as you stare at them driving as they pass across the big windows facing the store's street. 

You love the roaring sound of the engine, but you love the view of a handsome man driving it even more. 

Still, it's just a fantasy; those guys are completely out of your league, and well, you don't have a social life and have never had a boyfriend.

-

In the last couple of days before graduation, many universities show up to promote their college programs at Open Day. 

You avoid the Grand Prix Elite Academy people like they have the plague, knowing that's a dream you can't afford. 

And they know it, too! 

You can tell by the look the extremely hot model-looking Student Affairs ladies give you when you succumb to the temptation to get closer to their stand.

You nervously step in front of them without saying a word and leave after they rudely and unwantedly hand you a brochure with all the information about the program, costs, and more.

They both look annoyed at their employers for making them attend a school without potential clients.

-

When you arrive at your loft, you remove your shoes and drop your bag on the floor. You muster the courage to read the brochure as you get cozy on the bulky, puffy couch.

"Grand Prix Elite Academy is the ultimate path to success in the world of motorsports.

Our program is an exclusive Formula One college degree designed for aspiring drivers who dream of pursuing a career in professional racing. 

This program offers unparalleled training and mentorship from seasoned professionals, personalized coaching from world-class racing experts, access to state-of-the-art facilities and cutting-edge simulators, and networking opportunities with industry leaders. 

This degree aims to cultivate the skills and mindsets of future champions. It's the ultimate platform for developing the aptitudes, knowledge, and connections necessary to reach the pinnacle of motorsports.

Drive to Greatness. Race with us."

After re-reading the entire brochure a hundred times and eyeing all the pictures, subjects, and prices attached, you can't help but cry out until you fall asleep.

-

After several texts to your number and no reply, your dad goes up to the loft to look for you, now a bit worried. 

The day is over, and you two should head home soon to avoid traffic. He always texts you when it's time to leave, and you rush down the street to get in the car.

As he moves closer to the sofa to wake you up, he notices the "GPEA" brochure on the floor and picks it up. He doesn't say anything about it later.

-

The summer break begins, and soon, you will become a college freshman. 

You applied for several engineering college programs that are within your budget. 

You still want to work at Formula One, and if you can't get a driver's seat, you aim for a team chair.

-

You have been nervous the entire week, knowing the acceptance letters will soon arrive. You are crossing your fingers they aren't rejection ones. 

You get accepted in two out of four!

However, when the postman shows up at the store again, you look at him perplexed as he hands you a fancy envelope. 

It's good your dad is having lunch with you at the counter at that exact moment to clarify your doubts.

—What is this?! —your voice goes all high as you walk fast and nervously to him, showing him the Grand Prix Elite Academy logo stamp on the envelope.

—Listen, don't get mad at me. Your dad puts down the fork and stops eating for a moment to face you. —Wait to get your hopes up high yet. He starts to calm you down, noticing how you are hyperventilating. —Open it first.

—WHAT?!!

—Y/N, breath, easy...

You tear the envelope with shaky hands and quickly scan the letter's content.

—AH! —a funny scream comes out of your mouth, and you look at your dad with wide eyes before pushing him into a tight hug, a bit brusquely. —I GOT IN! I GOT THIS YEAR'S SCHOLARSHIP!! —you fucking can't believe it. —BUT HOW!?!!

—I applied for you, well, I pretended to be you; I disliked being an annoying girl —he rolls his eyes at you, joking. —After that, I sent the board an email explaining our situation; now, as your father —he looks a bit embarrassed at his confession. —It's good that I documented your entire and promising racing career. I know how important this is for you. I'm sorry that we cannot afford it on our own. I know you have the talent and deserve that scholarship more than anyone! Thank God they went all charity on your ass!

You laugh, and happy tears run down your face. Your dad hasn't seen you this happy, not since mom...

—OH GOD!

—What?! —your dad's heart skips at your words.

—It says I must register ASAP for the virtual classroom since I didn't attend the in-person summer program. Jesus! I just got in, and I'm already behind! —you rush to the computer, and before logging in, you say: —Dad, I love you; you have nothing to apologize for!

-

As the countdown to the start of the academy year goes on, your nervousness levels increase. 

You get more hysterical each day, and your dad already regrets his actions.

Billions of thoughts cross your mind daily: What if they don't like me? What if I end up failing? Am I good enough? What I'm going to wear? This attire list is so pretentious. What's a smart-casual look? I don't own any black tie gowns! 

OH GOD!

-

A heavy box arrives at the shop by mail. 

It's your welcome package to the academy. Inside, you find a gorgeous and expensive-looking varsity jacket, the college's cashmere sweater, and many more branded items. 

It also contains an extensive list of things you need to start the year, instructions for your first day, and a textbook of rules. 

Your scholarship sponsor is WomanOne, which supports girls around the globe in completing their college degrees. 

You feel so empowered that you swear to do your best and conquer the game! 

Your grades and performance are crucial for them, so you must win the most Elite Academy Cup races you can.

-

Two days later, another envelope arrives; this time is an invitation for the Homecoming Gala; the paper feels fancy as fuck! 

The event is scheduled two nights before the start of the course, and it's mandatory, which you find hilarious. 

You have never been obliged to attend a fancy party before.

-

A few days later, a push notification informs you you have two new DMs on the GPEA app (the official college app they requested you to download). 

After completing your profile for the driver market, the Ferrari and Aston Martin principals want to interview you on the virtual platform.

Shit is getting real!

-

—She looks too sweet for this brutal land; I hope she survives here, Lewis says as he leans closer to peek at Sebastian's iMac screen. 

This year, they volunteered at the Student Affairs Department to obtain the mandatory extra credits. 

Well, Sebastian applied for the job and dragged Lewis along, as usual. 

They both look at the student picture you upload on the platform; then, Seb starts to copy out your data to print your access badge.

—Is she on the market yet? 

—Yes. All the faculty principals have reviewed her profile, but only Ferrari and Aston will interview her. She applied to join the McLaren faculty, though.

—Interesting. So, no words from Zack?

—Not yet. You know how it is, my dear scholarship king. Y/N looks really promising. Are you feeling nervous about it? Now someone wants to take the full scholarship prodigy title away from you —Seb teases.

—By this rookie, you wish! —Lewis tenderly slaps Sebastian's face. —Everyone is after my titles anyway, as well as my sexy good looks. Are you feeling nervous about it?

—You wish! She doesn't have what I give you —it's Seb turn to state.

—Oh, please, could you remind me what you give me? —Lewis teases, a bit aroused.

—Oh, I can show you —Seb gets dangerously close to him, slowly pushing him against the office desk.

-

You are so grateful the full scholarship includes the on-campus living fee and secures you a dorm room. 

The GPEA is so far from your house that commuting there would be a nightmare. Thanks, Google Maps, for the info! Now you know you have to leave tomorrow with enough time to be on time for the Homecoming Gala. 

You struggle to fall asleep. It's the anxiety for tomorrow's party. You pray to God somehow you fit in.

-

As the moonlight dances upon the glistening waters of Monaco's coastline, the college's luxury campus emerges with opulence. 

Tonight, the GPEA is hosting the most glamorous Gala to mark the commencement of a new school year; to your eyes, it's a scene of total excess and splendor. 

Nothing as you have seen before!

Party lights dance and illuminate the facades of the campus buildings, casting vibrant and cool designs on the walls.

The garden's magnificent palm trees sway gently under the warm Mediterranean breeze, their leaves aglow with the enchanting hues of the illuminations. 

The campus's modern architecture, a seamless blend of money and elegance, looks like an oasis adorned with meticulously manicured gardens, flowers, and fountains, where the soft sound of water cascading brings a sense of tranquility amidst the muffled DJ music coming out of the celebration. 

As you are about to reach the building entrance, you notice the long parade of the most luxurious cars, gracefully chauffeuring guests who descend with elegance, sporting breathtaking gowns from renowned designers and dapper men wearing impeccably tailored tuxedo suits. 

-

This homecoming Gala looks straight out of Gossip Girl. 

As you step onto the red carpet, you can feel the electric buzz, radiating a contagious energy that sets the exhilarating tone for the party. 

It looks like it is going to be a wild night.

And you are correct. The clinking glasses of champagne get louder as the evening progresses, and the party ensues.

The crowd consists of beautiful, fit, and effortlessly stylish students exuding an air of confidence and superiority. 

Despite your striking look in a fancy dress, you can't shake the feeling of being an outsider among the elite.

-

As you move around in the ballroom with a glass in hand, you notice a figure that stands out: Toto Wolff, wearing an impeccably tailored suit and exuding charm and charisma. 

His striking features, towering height, and muscular body immediately command your attention. Your gaze draws towards him, entirely captivated by his physical attributes and confident presence among the sea of people. 

You can't help but stare at him; he is pure eye candy. 

"So, this is what genuine attraction feels like?"

You go all red when you notice a stunning set of clear eyes watching you, lusting for Toto.

—No worries. It's the usual reaction Toto gets. We've all been there, I guess. I'm Leandra de Vries! I'm a Ferrari somophore —a stunning, lean girl with legs for days and perfect hair greets you. 

Wow, that's having a face card! Her nose is to die for, and Jesus, those eyes! She looks tan, and her skin is silky and shiny. 

"I need to moisturize!" You think.

—I'm Y/N Y/LN —you quickly add. —That's a beautiful dress, Leandra!

—It's vintage Dior; they don't make them like this anymore —she shows you her breathtaking embroidered gown, extending her long, athletic leg. —You look good, even with that thing you are wearing! No offense; you better get used to this kind of comment. Let's say this place requires thick skin; my advice: never take it personally.

—Oh, thanks, I guess?! —you both laugh.

—Is it from Zara? —Leandra comes closer to whisper to your ear, curious and disgusted at the time, but with comedic timing.

—Yes! —you say, holding a giggle.

—Oh god! Please remind me to get you in my wardrobe; I have a couple of pieces you so desperately need —she smiles at you and intertwines her right arm with yours.

—Please! —you beg and smile her back.

—Let's walk around! —she invites you.

So far, you like Leandra. Although she may look like a mean girl, she is well-intended, kind, and honest. She doesn't hold back, and that's your type of person.

-

—So that's the new "Charity Baby"? She's cute!

—Where!? —Lando pops his head behind Oscar after his comment.

—There, with Leandra —he points.

—How does that woman get even hotter each year?! Fuck, she looks so fuckable in that dress! —Lando undresses Leandra with his eyes.

—Getting an erection this early on? That's a new record for you —Max jokes, staring at him.

Leandra starts to lead you both in their direction. The group gathered around the large velvet sofa in the fancy sitting area near the bar. 

When you arrive at their side, you overhear George leading the conversation.

—She is still out of your league, mate —George mocks her. —But how did it go with Arabella?

—Oh, she was delicious; I fucked her in the gym's pool. Her ass feels terrific! —Lando lets them know the gossip.

—Arabella is the blonde with the great tits? —Max inquires.

—No, no, that's the Mercedes girl, the one I fucked in the library.

—And you also fucked the librarian.

—And the trainer's assistant.

—And the Human Resources lady.

Everyone keeps adding.

—Better be getting ready for Lando's disappointing dick game —Carlos jokes with you as soon as he notices you standing there in complete silence and addressing you for the first time.

Everyone turns their head towards you.

You go all red.

—I mean, if you want, I'm available tonight —Lando shoots his shot, shamelessly flirting with you and reaching for your hand.

—And welcome! —Sebastian jokes from a distance, comfy wrapped in Lewis's arms on the sofa.

—Lando, you fuck everything that moves —Yuki states impressed.

—It's cus' I got dick game, to Carlos' jealousy.

Out of nowhere, you notice Lance standing right to your left. —I heard you are working class and got here under a full scholarship like Lewis did. Is that true?! —Lance inquires, curious and with a sweet voice, but his wording is not the best.

—Yes, I'm from a middle-class family —you shyly reply. —We own a car repair workshop, and I work there.

Lance's face looks stunned. Sebastian notices his and your expression and doesn't waste time.

—Lance, you can't ask people that! You know some people work to live? God, you are so out of touch! Excuse him —Seb says.

—Yeah, unlike him, the people's people —Lewis mocks Seb, pointing at him and roughly combing his hair, then Lewis gives you a "These guys" face and winks at you. —They don't mean it —Lewis lets you know. —Welcome, welcome! I'm L-

—Lewis Hamilton, yes, I know, you are a legend —you look at him in awe.

He is the only one who gets it, who gets you. 

He is as rare as you. His family famously worked their butts off to get him here before he got offered a full scholarship like yours and became the scholarship program and GPEA prodigy. 

No one has won more trophies and cups in the history of the college than him.

Mercedes already hired him as their reserve driver and offered him a contractor as their future F1 talent, the most expensive arrangement ever for a rookie. They are just waiting for Michael to retire.

-

Principal Zack reaches you after chatting, dancing, joking, and getting to know everyone in that little group. —Miss, Y/LN. Can we have a word, please?

—Of course! —you interrupt your conversation with Oscar and go to him.

After walking around and casually conversing a bit, he informs you: I appreciate your request to join our faculty, but unfortunately, it's impossible for us now. We noticed your career resume has a long hiatus, which puts you behind our other candidates. However, we will closely watch your performance this year, and maybe you can ask again next year —Zack politely kills your dream to drive for them momentaneously. —You have a promising future, you are talented, and I wish you the best.

—Oh, bummer! But I understand, sir. I will do my very best!

You make it back to the group, but since they love to gossip, they all observe the scene from afar and interpret your expressions, betting their money wasn't good.

—And? —Yuki asks.

—Not McLaren.

—I'm sorry, it's their loss! —Mick soothes you. By far, he is the most kind and polite of the bunch. It must be tough to grow up under his dad's shadow; maybe that's why he is so empathic with the outcasts.

—I haven't heard from Aston or Ferarri after my interviews either —you look slightly concerned now.

—Give it a time —Seb reassures you.

—Oh god, it's too early to endure a Masi's speech. No one is drunk enough yet! —Lewis cuts the chat, looking straight at the man getting up on the fancy and tech stage, lit out under professional lightning; a massive state-of-the-art Samsung screen is behind, showcasing the academy and its sponsor's logos.

—Does anyone feel like powdering their nose in the bathroom before the speech begins? —Carlos offers.

—Count me on, babe! Do you want to join us? Being high as a kite is the best way to enjoy this party —Leandra addresses you.

—Oh! No, no, thank you —you quickly denied with your arms.

—Hey, don't go hard! I brought mushrooms for all of us later —Max adds, and they nod in sync.

Okay, this is going nothing like you expected.

-

"Good night, esteemed faculty, staff, and enthusiastic students. As the Dean, I am honored to address you at the start of this new academic year at the Grand Prix Elite Academy. We are here united by a shared passion for speed, engineering, and the excitement of Formula One racing. 

Our college stands as a unique institution dedicated to preparing the next generation of brilliant minds and innovative professionals in the motorsport industry.

This academic year holds incredible opportunities for growth, learning, and discovery, and I encourage each and every one of you to embrace the challenges, cultivate your skills, and push the boundaries of knowledge in this exhilarating field. 

Let us fuel our enthusiasm, collaborate synergistically, and pave the way to new frontiers of excellence together. I extend a warm welcome to all and look forward to an extraordinary year ahead. 

Thank you."

A lazy round of applause comes from the crowd, but minutes before, in the middle of the speech, Leandra went by your side. —Do you want to know all the tea about Toto? —noticing how your eyes wander to him once more. 

He is up on the stage with all the principals from the different faculties. It's nothing new, but you are experiencing it for the first time.

—Well —you hesitate. —Yes.

—He has remained single for a while now, more like fucking around, actually. Toto has a type: blond bombshells, the supermodel type, you know, with insane bodies. I'm friends with two of his conquests, and one told me he fucks like a bull. He likes it hard and rough, and the other let me know he has a delicious fat cock but that he hits it and quicks it; he left her waiting for more.

You blush at her words, which she instantly notices. Before continuing: —Last I witnessed with my own gorgeous eyes, Toto was hooking up with Rihanna at that fancy Ferrari's anniversary party; she was all over him; it was a great party, we all got smashed! I ended up riding Dani on the back of his car, oops. 

You hit playfully Leandra in the ribs with your elbow while looking at Riccardio dancing meters away. —Daniel is hot!

—And a moron, ah, right! Toto went through a very public divorce about a year ago; it was the talk of the town. The Wolff's splitting, OH! The elites went wild! His ex-wife is a counselor here, so you will see her around; they have a weird relationship. I think they still fuck.

Okay, this is a lot of information, but one thing is sure: you are different from his type. 

—By the way, he's a very demanding professor and one of the very best. His subjects are challenging to get accepted into, so think twice before choosing him. Many girls try to add his class to their schedules to get closer to him, but it never ends well. He is a dream crusher. Do you want me to introduce you to him? I am one of his favorite students.

—Oh, no, no —you get all nervous. Leandra laughs at your answer and how you get full panic within seconds.

—So you are the type who only likes to stare? —she mocks you. You softly push her, joking.

Oh, yes, and he looks so fine. That suit is tight in all the right places.

-

The party gets better and wilder as the night progresses, and the alcohol takes a toll on your systems. 

People are dancing to Lando's DJ's seductive set and hooking up everywhere; the lights are dim, and neon lasers pulsate to the beats. 

Bodies move in sync with the rhythm as you gather on the dance floor. Max offers the mushrooms around, and a "Fuck it! I deserve to feel alive!" feeling overpowers you, and you join them as they cheer you in, feeling now more like part of the pack!

Amidst the blur of Carlos' dancing body, your partner for the night, you start to feel everything on your skin: the energy, passion, and thrill. You needed this tempting display of youthful freedom and uninhibited release; you were begging for your inhibitions to fade temporarily.

You can't wait for the course to start and for this new chapter in your life to begin. Please don't let it just be a dream!

Thank you for reading; see you in the next chapter! Let me know if you like this storyline; it is a work in progress!

[threadatl]

Let's help Atlantans beat the high cost of car ownership by offering a better, more walkable future

by Darin Givens, 12/24/2023

This image shows part of the United Auto Recovery lot in Hapeville, just south of Atlanta (and this is only a section -- it goes on).

What you're looking at are repoed vehicles waiting for owners to pay lenders off and recover them.

To my eyes, it's also a picture of the need for affordable homes in transit-served density, where the expense of car ownership is less of a necessity and the threat of repossession is less present in peoples' lives.

The struggle of transportation costs is real, and it's getting worse every year.

According to a NY Times report, the average annual cost of new-car ownership rose to $12,182 this year due to increased "purchase prices, maintenance costs and finance charges." That's an incredible cost burden -- one that obviously hits lower-income drivers the hardest.

Too often, we demand car ownership by way of our unwalkable, sprawling urban designs which offer little alternative. We essentially enforce this burden.

Also from that NYT article:

"America’s dependence on automobiles means hefty bills, the risk of dangerous crashes and stress. And now, even with strong wage growth and elevated savings in recent years, high sticker prices and escalating interest rates are starting to take a toll: The share of borrowers moving into delinquency jumped sharply in late 2022 and early 2023"

When you read "borrowers moving into delinquency," understand that to also mean 'people who have little choice but struggle with car-ownership burdens because we aren't allowing them affordable homes in walkable neighborhoods rich with transit services'.

For a look at the savings we could allow residents in a less car-dependent, future version of Atlanta, take a look at this chart showing the difference between car ownership costs and annual transit-pass costs for the average Atlanta transit commuter (source: atltransit.ga.gov).

Of course, you have to multiply that cost of transit passes for each person in a house. But even if we can get to a level of walkability that allows two-car families to trim down to one car, that's a lot of savings.

We can do this. Bit by bit, we can use public tools like Invest Atlanta, and zoning reform, and the city's affordable housing fund, and the More MARTA program (and much more) to provide affordable homes in a compact, pedestrian-scaled setting that's easily served by transit routes.

It's crucial that we remain optimistic about our chances for success when it comes to creating a better Atlanta that lifts people out of the burdensome costs of car-centric places -- not just money, but also poor health outcomes and threats to safety.

So here's me, hoping for more hope in the the new year. Let's find it and cling to it in 2024, and make great strides in building better places. Don't get held down by the oppressive weight of car-dependent, inequitable, unsustainable built environments. Hold tight to a vision for change & progress.

[jojo-schmo]

Another batch of Forgotten Land Roleswap asks!

Look under the cut for answers and a behind the scenes sketch page! ;D

Thank you for the kind words!

Meta Knight doesn't have Mouthful-mode in my particular AU- Combo-mode is more Sworn Partner-flavored which is I why I went with it. But also for some reason I literally cannot bring myself to draw Meta consuming automobiles and vending machines. Too wild of a concept for me! But if anyone reading this is capable of doing so, I welcome the possibility HAHA

I had to hold onto this ask for a while because you gave me some really good food for thought! As of now I don't have plans to swap any of them since they don't play a big part in the comic but if I get struck by divine inspiration, I'll have you to thank for putting the idea in my head!

Stubborn knight!! I think he's so used to being self-sufficient that he dislikes being "coddled" by others and prefers to take things into his own hands. This is actually something the comic will explore down the line! I've interpreted some other possible reasons why he's so stubborn about this but it will have to be revealed in the future ;)

Aww thank you!! I'm glad you like his design, I put plenty of love into it! Maybe this is a good excuse for me to share the page I designed him on and some of the backstory behind it:

The above were my very first Roleswap drawings back in April 2022! It was born purely out of my desire to see a badass Bandee boss fight and I had just finished the Forgotten Land game. I started at the top and ended up with the designs at the bottom right- with a few additional changes these became the final versions! I wanted him to have more of an Awoofy silhouette since I figured they're a great equivalent to Popstar's Waddle Dees!

An AU creation fun fact: I initially just swapped Bandee and Dedede! I drew the above that same month- this is supposed to be the cutscene before the Winter Horns boss where the big reveal happened! Kirby was P1 and Dedede was P2. I didn't even create Roleswap Elfilis yet!

But the more I explored the possibilities, the more roles I swapped. It took me like another month to actually have the Sworn Partners be the "playable" characters, shuffle the Beast Pack around, and finish the rest of the swaps.

That was a long-winded way of saying, thanks for liking Roleswap Bandee!! I owe the little Awoofy Dee a lot because without him I wouldn't be having a blast making this AU!!

Ahh thank you so very much!! Combo moves were so fun to make haha. I love some good teamwork.

And yes, I love writing their dynamic too! I figured if they already understood each other perfectly at the beginning of the story, it would be kinda boring. Don't get me wrong, they are already pretty close in the beginning- enough to tease and be prickly idiots with each other while still maintaining that respect between them! :P But they are going to have some nice opportunities to get to know each other better, build even more trust, and reach a deeper understanding~! <3

Oooh! Interesting theory~ *whistles a non spoilery-tune*

These are more comments than questions but I still wanted to share them! Ya'll make me laugh!

If you've made it this far, I leave you with a tag from @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me on Pages 31-32. It made me laugh until I choked. xD

Thank you all for continuing to brighten my inbox and feed with your great questions and comments!

[tiny-elf-of-doom]

A Man & His Car 🖤

Good Omens fanfiction

Crowley x The Bentley (yes, really)

Best if you listen to I’m In Love With My Car by Queen while reading!

Nsfw 🔞 MDNI: m@sturbation, dirty talk, descriptions of s€x, & a sassy 1926 Bentley.

Crowley lounged back against the upholstery. He loved the way his car purred when it was given the right attention. Using two, thin fingers, the demon lined the CD slot from left to right, slathering it in a cleaner he kept under the seat. The Bentley surged from his touch, flashing the front lights as darkness approached.

“You like it when I play with you, isn’t that right, love?”

Another roar and the steering wheel turned sharply to the left, cutting off a rather displeased driver. Steam gathered under the immortal wheels as the car sped into the distance, pushing through the heart of London to where the M-25 began its course. Crowley loved it when his Bentley pushed her limits on the speedometer, swerving from one lane to another with ninety years of demonic ease. The demon managed to see her reflection in one of the vehicles to his right- holy hell, what a looker. He admired her vintage curves which were made far shapelier by the black paint job.

The radio began to play, I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black.

Bentley’s design had been what drew him to her in the mid-1920s, but it was her attitude that made him stay. He tightened his grip on the wheel, clenching his jaw as she pushed ninety. A growth had begun to rise from behind the seam of Crowley’s trousers and his car took notice. The radio whizzed out of nowhere once more, searching the inserted CD for the perfect song. She finally found what she was searching for, eventually, and it was then that Crowley realized the Bentley still had a wicked sense of humor.

When I’m holding your wheel

All I hear is your gear.

The demon laughed as they passed a rather large bus traveling the highway. “You’re a naughty thing! Do you want me to have a wank while you drive?”

This time, the Bentley growled.

Crowley did have a feel for this automobile, especially when she was all fired up and ready for action. How could he have turned her down? Taking his time unbuckling his trousers, the demon finally pulled out his cock which had just started to turn a bright shade of red. The Bentley’s wheel suddenly steered on its own as Crowley laid along his front seat. He gave himself a few short strokes before tugging at himself more feverishly while the Bentley pushed a hundred. They went in their first circle when Crowley allowed his voice to carry through the car.

“I do fancy you, Bentley…” Crowley hiccupped through a rather loud moan. “You’re my car, I bought you from new, you will always get me where I need to go… such a beautiful thing you’ve turned out to be, love.”

He caressed her upholstery, taking in the detailed lines and that fresh car smell that had never went away. Like a bottle of perfume, it had become her signature scent and one of Crowley’s most familiar comforts.

“Now that we got the mushy shit out of the way, I want you drive like you mean it. I’ll take care of the rest.” Crowley whined when the engine revved. “Good girl.”

Suddenly, the M-25 became barren. Not a car could be seen besides the Bentley, which gave her plenty of room to drive. Crowley knew he had to watch when her wheels screamed against the pavement. He lifted himself up behind the wheel once again, staring as she made the streetlights connect in a flurry. His chest tightened with delight seeing her so excited; so free. Crowley sat back and allowed her to guide him as he pleasured himself. She rumbled from under his grip on the gear shift, playing her music higher and higher until it flooded the enclosed space.

Crowley’s cock wept, leaking from the head as the Bentley turned around the bend of the road. The pounding of her mechanic heart was unbearably sexual. Her tires shrieking as she hit a hundred and ten threw the demon’s head back in pure ecstasy.

“Yes, baby, keep going, drive until I come,” Crowley whined.

The car would not disappoint. It was nearing its second loop when Crowley’s movements became flustered. They neared the exit to Mayfield.

“Almost there, Bentley,” he assured while giving the gear shift a few accompanying strokes. The car was already losing itself to the demands of her driver, but didn’t wish to stop, not when he was this close. She turned rubber into dust as Crowley screamed at the top of his lungs, working his hand to the point of agony. “Yes, yes! Fuck yes, I love you, baby!”

The driver came in a full body wave of pleasure. His hips bucked into the wheel, bringing the vehicle to swerve slightly, left and right. There had been the exit and the Bentley rushed into the softly lit road ahead; one that hadn’t been doused in tire tracks. A snap from Crowley’s thin fingers brought the traffic back to the highway once they were far, far away from the bustle of Central London. Both the demon and his car were exhausted, but it was mainly his prized antique that needed the break.

“Stunning work,” Crowley patted the wheel, then took it into his hands. The car radio wobbled, which was the best way of putting it. “Sorry, baby, I know you’re still sensitive. Let me get us home.”

And they drove off into the night, satisfied with one another as a man and his car.

[inkfamy]

Issue 1 of Void Rivals was super fun, and in the time honoured tradition of following a comic as it releases I'm going to make some wild extrapolation predictions and hopes for the upcoming new Transformers continuity (focussing mostly on the Transformers, because of course, but also I really enjoyed this issue and I'm excited for the continuing non-Transformers story)

spoilers for Void Rivals #1 below the cut

First up wow, the art style and design in this issue is so pretty, I love how soft the colours are (I'll talk about the Rivals later)

I love that so far we have a nice reworking of the Fire In The Sky story: Jetfire is a scientist, and he managed to (presumably) crash and get stranded and stasis locked for millions of years. I like that he's very much in his G1 characterisation too, he's immediately very gentle and reassuring to Darak and Solila.

(also, moment of appreciation for this nice characterisation; science mind comes to the fore as he studies his own wear and tear and guesses that he's been down for millennia)

(additional moment to hoot in amusement as he immediately forgets about the little people and dashes off)

So making some extrapolations and guesses based on the tiny bit of info we glean here:

Jetfire is a scientist, and he crashed millennia ago, so

if we're borrowing the Fire In The Sky premise, is Starscream going to be an ex scientist again? Please let Starscream be a scientist again

The war between the Autobots and Decepticons has presumably been waging for millions of years, as per most other continuities

It would be neat to get an introduction to Cybertron as it is now and its state of affairs through Jetfire's frantic return (or attempt to return)

Darak and Solila are able to jump start(??) Jetfire with their tech which is fun and interesting (I am always a fan of "non-TF squishies can use their automobile/mechanical/science knowhow to do stuff to Cybertronians) BUT

(extreme leap) Darak specifically is inspired by Jetfire's abilitiy to transform and starts working on a way to use his and Solila's flight suits to repair their ships. Given how advanced their tech seems to be (and Handroid apparently being some kind of robo AI), does this mean we might be looking at a headmasters plot in the future?

We also got a nice author's note at the end of the issue from Robert Kirkman, which was an interesting peek at his own thoughts on the series. It was particularly interesting that he specifically mentions the 86 movie and Optimus Prime's death as both a key point in his experience as a Transformers fan, and as a lesson he took forward as a storyteller. (extremely tenuous extrapolation) While Kirkman isn't the main writer in the upcoming Transformers run, I wonder if this means we can possibly look forward to (dread?) some big character deaths and plot twists (not unusual for a comic series of course but also I am vibrating at high frequency). He also says that the Agorrians and Zertonians will be part of the EU, so super interesting to see how this is woven in with the TF story.

Moment after all this leaping to wild conclusions to appreciate Jetfire's design and his little kitty ears

So, Jetfire was there for all of 3 pages and then promptly dipped. I was expecting them to find him wrecked, but tbh I thought it would be at the end of the issue as a cliffhanger. It does sort of feel like he was just shoved in there (maybe to make TF fans buy into Void Rivals if I'm being affectionately cynical) very briefly, but I don't find myself minding too much since we're getting a new Transformers ongoing later this year (I don't mind when comics have a little thing that doesn't get explained until another series), but since the poster for Void Rivals shows Jetfire a) with an Autobot insignia [he doesn't have one in the issue #1 panels] and b) holding Darak and Solila, I am curious (but not holding my breath) that he might turn up again somewhere between now and October.

I feel like this post is getting overly long so I'm just going to bullet point some thoughts about Darak and Solila, their deal, and the things this issue seems to be setting up for the Void Rivals story:

I love Handroid so much, I don't care if it's the active tool of a Nefarious Regime

Neat parallel between the Agorrians and Zertonians and their apparently generational war, and the Cybertronians and their *waves hand*

Obviously someone(s) for some reason(s) have a vested interest in keeping the Agorrians and Zertonians at war, not learning about one another, and not getting a moment to even think about not killing each other

(another extreme leap) please give me Quintessons mixed up in the wars of multiple species across the universe

Mild disappointment that both aliens are just "slightly different coloured humans" in design but the moment they took off their helmets and looked at each other and saw they were the same was so lovely that I forgive it

I was expecting to be fairly disinterested in the non-Transformers plot, especially because GI Joe has really never called to me, but this issue really felt like a nice introduction, I'm definitely curious about what's going on between the Agorrians and Zertonians, what's going to happen when Darak and Solila inevitably manage to escape and are now known by both their factions to have worked with The Enemy, and also dying for more Handroid. Also I am shoving Jetfire content into my mouth and chewing frantically before anyone can take it away.

[coarsely]

Tag Game: heads up, seven up!

Many thanks to @ashfordlabs for tagging me! The rule is simply to share 7 lines you have written :) here is an excerpt from The Pilgrimage of Imperator V!

As he walks, V becomes aware of a sound other than the crunch of his simple brown boots against dirt, the miscellaneous sounds of wildlife, wind shifting grass, birds calling onto one another, the tiny vibrations of insects; an intrusive, distant artificial rumbling of something. Like an engine. He turns, and looks back towards the source. It is hard to make out with the blinding sun that bleeds vibrant orange just like he’d predicted in his eyes, but after he holds his hand in front of him he can see, sure enough, a tiny four-wheeled vehicle hurtling along the rough road he walks on. It dives down the side of the hill he’d walked over not long ago, disappears at the mouth then reappears as it bumps up and down the hilly road. It’s a good sign. Clearly going somewhere, so there must be a house, or a village or maybe even a town not far off. He hasn’t seen a lot of cars in the often crowded layout of Bronze Eden, which built long before things like automobiles and engines were constructed, but he knows instinctively what a Bronze Eden design when he sees one.

Tagging @author-a-holmes, @solipseismic, @amaiguri, @k--havok, @saltwaterbells, @digital-chance, and @ryns-ramblings and naturally anyone else who wants to participate :)

[seat-safety-switch]

I don’t mean to be too much of a downer about it, but eventually, your car is gonna end up in the hands of someone like me. Yeah, even if it’s a luxury automobile that was only sold new to the uppermost echelons of industrial civilization. Sooner or later, the dread curve of depreciation will chip away at it, and a carbed Chevy 350 will end up being swapped in, so it can do endless burnies in the parking lot of a long-shuttered Pamida.

Now, I do know that there are real fancy cars which hold onto their value forever as collector’s items, objects of art. And if you have one of those, you’re probably not reading these words right now. If you are, please send a couple bucks to me, and I’ll make up some sort of fake charity receipt so your accountant can defray some of Uncle Sam’s demands that you contribute to society. The Man will find it very convincing that you’re helping support people with impulse-control disorders and terminal cases of tetanus.

For everyone else, depreciation still exists. Even modern cars, which will last approximately forever without so much as a re-ring, will eventually just get “a little old” and be worth less than a brand new one. Possibly because the phone holder no longer fits a big modern phone. This is all by design, because if it didn’t happen, our economy would grind to a halt, and we’d all have to make a living by performing useful, concrete tasks that help one another, rather than doing any-percent speed-runs of Microsoft Excel for 3 to 12 hours a day.

Personally, this all works out really well for me. I get to test out the fart-sucking seats in a Mercedes without paying new-Mercedes prices, albeit only after they’ve already ingested twenty years of anally-sourced small-batch artisanal methane. You may be surprised to find out that it works out well for you, too: you get to get rid of that Mercedes, so you can buy a new Mercedes. Sort of a symbiotic relationship we’ve got going on here. Hey, do you know where a guy can get a bunch of carbed 350s?

[acapelladitty]

Cutty Sark (Corintheus Fic)

Summary: The Corinthian and Dream find themselves having a conversation about poetry which raises an interesting revelation.

In the quiet of the throne room, the discussion between creator and creation rang clear as the latter clasped his hands delicately on the arm of the vast throne. His back crooked, the upper half of his body curved towards his master as though magnetised by his very presence. His focus in this moment was pure; utterly engaged in the playful debate which had garnered him the attention he so craved from his maker.

Seated as always in his throne, its swirling design in constant flux, the slender digits of Dream's fingers tapped against his thin arm while he awaited the next point from his nightmare.

"You seem to enjoy indulging it, my lord, but I still have no love for poetry."

The Corinthian shook his head and held up a single placating palm as he uttered the words, his natural stubbornness unable to quell itself as he continued to defend his unappreciative position.

"You have no love for most things." Dream countered, his stoic expression giving nothing away as his dark eyes followed the animated movements of his nightmare with ease. "Poetry requires subtlety, it demands a delicacy which I doubt you capable of engaging in given your preference for violent theatrics."

It wasn't an explicit criticism, but the sting of the words created a flush of irritable heat in Corinthian's neck and the need to defend himself rose in his throat like a serpent.

"If I had to choose, I would select the work of Burns. The Caledonian." Corinthian fought hard to ensure his tone was light and almost conversational, hiding the flash of irritation which plagued him to deprive his lord the satisfaction of it. "I encountered him in passing during my time in the Waking. He was a charming man and knew how to hold a drink."

"I wasn't aware you had met." Interest touched at Dream's tone and Corinthian latched on to it like a man starved.

"There's a lot of things about me that you may not know." Corinthian said. And it was a truth which they both knew, one which went generally unspoken to keep the shaky peace they held at times.

"Hmm." A loose noise from Dream's throat; one which served both as a encouragement to continue and a warning not to push.

"You're not then only one to have some influence in their creative pursuits. Dreams and nightmares inspire alike, a fact you know better than any." Corinthian continued. "Burns was no fool and after our meeting, a meeting in which he understood my true nature, he included me in one of his works."

"Is that so?"

"A winnock bunker in the east. There sat Auld Nick in shape o' beast. A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge."

His slight accent lent itself well to the brogue, the guttural intonation of the syllables, and Dream found himself enjoying the small taste of his nightmares culture as he wrapped his lips around the short poem. It was not often that he shared open conversation of this nature with one of his creations and the novelty of it refreshed him.

His beautiful Corinthian.

An immeasurably useful being who had developed a tongue almost as sharp as his blade, a sharpness which he honed with his unyielding defiance at every possible avenue.

Watching him carefully, a ghost of something approaching a smile touched at the corners of his master's lips as Dream appeared deep in thought and it created a curl of satisfaction deep within Corinthian's chest.

A silence reigned for a heavy moment.

In his time amongst them, Corinthian had come to terms with the fact that he was not a creature who overly enjoyed the academic pursuits of the humans. Rather, he much preferred their physical creations along the lines of automobiles and alcohols; tools which could be consumed and indulged in at his own fancy.

"I thought poetry was beneath you?" Dream asked. "You read that with a surprising enthusiasm."

"Hypocrisy suits me." Corinthian preened, tilting his head back to allow his ocular teeth to peek out from his dark glasses. "I wear it better than most."

"You wear the guise of a devil better than most." Dream said firmly, but the words were tainted with a faint pride. "Yet another chapter to expand the woeful tale of the Corinthian. An eternal ode to those who have the misfortune of encountering him and falling victim to his darkness."

His chest puffing slightly at the unexpected praise, a flood of some strange emotion the Corinthian did not wish to dwell on for too long made his wicked grin fade into something almost soft.

"You flatter me, my lord."

"Tam O' Shanter." Dream mused, his inky gaze pinning Corinthian into place with a sudden intensity. "A tale of a man who defies his duties to indulge his petty wants, resulting in him being pursued by the devil himself."

Immediate nervousness pressed at Corinthian's senses, a stark shift in the deadpan lilt of Dream's voice setting his many sets of teeth on edge.

"My lord?"

Dream tilted his head, matching Corinthian's earlier accent flawlessly as he completed the tale.

"Think! Ye may buy joys o'er dear. Remember, Tam o' Shanter's mare."

Also posted on AO3

[aftershinecar1]

Ultimate Guide For Choosing the Best Car Wash Shampoo.

You must deal with your car to ensure that it lasts for a long time and maintains its flawless appearance. Regular car washing is a vital element of vehicle maintenance. However, if you use any old cleaning solution or detergent, it may significantly impair the paint activity in your car. That is the role that a high-quality car wash shampoo plays.

Considering the abundance of options on the market, choosing the best car wash shampoo in your automobile is probably tough. We’ve prepare the high-quality guide to deciding on the nice car wash shampoo for your vehicle so that you could make a knowledgeable choice.

“Key Factors for Choosing Car Wash Shampoo”

Consider the pH Level: The pH of the vehicle wash shampoo is an important consideration. A pH-neutral shampoo is typically avoided since it is gentle on your car’s paint and will not remove any existing wax or sealant.

Look for Gentle Formulas: Select shampoos for vehicle washes which can be designed mainly for use in vehicles. These shampoos are designed to efficiently do away with dirt, grime, and pollution from the road without destructive the paint or leaving any residue.

Look for Wax and Sealant Properties: Some automobile wash shampoos comprise additional wax or sealant ingredients. These can boom the gloss and guard the paint process of your vehicle. If you are seeking out a one-stop keep, consider an automobile wash shampoo with those extra advantages.

Dilution Ratio: Be aware of the dilution ratio indicated on the bottle of vehicle wash shampoo. Follow the directions carefully because different shampoos necessitate different dilution ratios. To achieve optimal cleansing results while avoiding ability damage, utilise the proper dilution ratio.

Consider Environmental Aspects: If you live in a place with difficult water, it is able to be useful to use a vehicle wash shampoo made particularly to eliminate mineral deposits and water stains. If you often encounter excessive avenue grime or asphalt, recall the usage of a car wash shampoo with sizeable degreasing powers.

Now that you know what to look for in a vehicle wash shampoo, let’s test a few popular brands on the market, including After shine car.

1. Car Glass Cleaner

This product elevates your automobile’s gloss by expertly combining cleaning energy with sharpening brilliance. Its wax-infused combination protects and cleans your automobile’s paint while presenting a glossy shine that catches attention whilst riding.

2. Auto Car Wash Shampoo

Effectively removes dirt, grime, and avenue contaminants, making it a reliable buddy for automobile owners. Its delicate but robust recipe gives a glossy sheen even as keeping an excessive dilution ratio for cost-effective use, making it a famous alternative amongst discerning fans.

Conclusion

Remember, the use of a splendid car wash shampoo is a funding on your automobile’s lengthy-time period health and splendor. Regular washing with the correct shampoo will hold your automobile searching notable and guard it from the climate.

So, the following time you’re searching out an automobile wash shampoo, maintain those recommendations in thoughts to ensure you select the proper one to your automobile. Happy washing!

For greater information and to discover our variety of automobile cleaning products, visit aftershinecar.com

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1961 Lincoln Continental

The 1961 Lincoln Continental: A Timeless American Classic of Elegance and Innovation

In the realm of classic American luxury automobiles, the 1961 Lincoln Continental stands as a symbol of elegance, innovation, and timeless design. A departure from the ornate styling of the 1950s, the '61 Continental marked a shift towards clean lines, understated luxury, and a new era of automotive design. In this article, we'll take a comprehensive look at the history, design, engineering, cultural impact, and enduring legacy of the 1961 Lincoln Continental.

The Dawn of a New Decade

The early 1960s marked a transition from the extravagant designs of the 1950s to a more refined, streamlined aesthetic. The 1961 Lincoln Continental epitomized this shift, embracing a sense of understated elegance that resonated with the changing times. As the United States entered a new era, the Continental reflected the desire for sophistication and modernity.

Timeless Design: The Art of Proportion

The hallmark of the 1961 Lincoln Continental's design was its commitment to proportion and minimalism. Spearheaded by chief designer Elwood Engel, the Continental introduced the concept of "slab-sided" styling, characterized by clean lines, uncluttered surfaces, and a seamless integration of form and function. This design philosophy elevated the Continental's visual appeal, giving it an enduring aura of sophistication.

Distinctive Features: Suicide Doors and Grille Design

One of the most iconic features of the 1961 Lincoln Continental was its unique suicide doors, which opened toward the rear of the vehicle. This design element not only added a touch of drama but also facilitated easy ingress and egress for passengers. Additionally, the bold front grille design, reminiscent of classic automobiles, became synonymous with the Continental's refined presence on the road.

Engineering Excellence: Power and Performance

Underneath its sleek exterior, the 1961 Lincoln Continental boasted engineering prowess. The Continental was powered by a potent V8 engine that delivered ample power for effortless cruising. This blend of power and performance was complemented by the Continental's smooth suspension and refined handling, ensuring a comfortable and commanding driving experience.

Interior Splendor: Craftsmanship and Comfort

Step inside the 1961 Lincoln Continental, and you're greeted by a world of opulence and refinement. The interior was a masterclass in craftsmanship, with rich materials, plush upholstery, and meticulous attention to detail. Every aspect of the interior was designed to cocoon occupants in comfort and luxury, creating an oasis of tranquility on the open road.

Influence on American Culture: Symbol of Prestige

The 1961 Lincoln Continental became a symbol of prestige and sophistication, often associated with influential figures of the era. Its presence graced the driveways of Hollywood stars, politicians, and affluent individuals, solidifying its status as a vehicle of choice for those who valued luxury and style.

A Cultural Icon: From Film to Fashion

The allure of the 1961 Lincoln Continental extended beyond the realm of automobiles. Its appearances in movies and television shows further cemented its status as a cultural icon. Additionally, the Continental's design elements, such as the iconic grille and suicide doors, became references in fashion and design, highlighting its lasting impact on popular culture.

The Legacy Lives On: Inspiration for Future Generations

The legacy of the 1961 Lincoln Continental lives on through its design philosophy and enduring influence on automotive aesthetics. Its emphasis on timeless design, elegance, and innovation continues to inspire automotive designers and enthusiasts, shaping the way luxury vehicles are conceived and crafted.

Collector's Dream: Rarity and Appreciation

Today, the 1961 Lincoln Continental holds a special place in the hearts of collectors and enthusiasts. Its limited production numbers and iconic status have elevated its value as a classic automobile. Owning a 1961 Continental is not just a possession; it's a connection to a defining era of automotive history and a testament to the artistry of automotive design.

Conclusion: A Timeless Beacon of Elegance

The 1961 Lincoln Continental stands as a testament to the marriage of art and engineering, capturing the essence of elegance and sophistication that defined an era. Its legacy as an automotive masterpiece continues to resonate with those who appreciate the fusion of design, craftsmanship, and performance. The 1961 Lincoln Continental remains an enduring symbol of an age when cars were not just modes of transportation, but expressions of style, luxury, and innovation that transcend time.

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“Suburban developments sprang up all over the country in the wake of World War II. As developers rushed to meet the postwar demand for housing, banks, government subsidies, and private investors poured funds into new, single-family homes. In 1946, for the first time, a majority of the nation’s families lived in homes they owned. Over the next 15 years, 12 million more families became homeowners. These new houses in expanding suburban areas were built with young nuclear families in mind. Builders and architects assumed that men would be away at work during the day and houses would be occupied by mothers and children. Most houses were designed with open floor plans where children could wander freely and safely.

Kitchens usually opened into family rooms, with windows facing backyards, so that women could do household chores while watching their children. Living rooms featured picture windows, also to make it easy to keep an eye on children. The one-story design gave the home an informal look and was practical for families with small children, since there were no stairs, which could be dangerous. Houses were built with plenty of closet space to hold numerous consumer goods that went along with suburban living. Families did not have to be wealthy to buy houses in suburbs. But they did have to be white. Racial minorities were not allowed to purchase homes in the suburbs, even if they could afford them.

…The home was also the center of family leisure. Postwar Americans spent a good deal of their incomes on items that would make the home comfortable and enjoyable: appliances, automobiles, backyard barbecue sets, and of course, televisions. By the 1950s, televisions were selling at a rate of more than 5 million a year. In their living rooms, ordinary families watched idealized families in enormously popular shows such as “Ozzie and Harriet,” “Leave It To Beaver,” and “Father Knows Best.” These television families all had certain features in common: they were white, they lived in comfortable suburban homes, full-time homemakers had down-home wisdom and patience, and fathers always knew best.

Curiously, although the fathers in these programs were the breadwinners of the family, we rarely if ever saw them at work. They were home, presiding with kindly, fatherly authority, clearly the head of the household. Nevertheless, mothers were the ones in charge of the daily routines, the running of the home, and the supervision of the children. Television shows that featured working-class families were often continuations of radio comedy shows from the pre-TV era. Shows like “The Honeymooners,” starring Jackie Gleason, depicted working-class men with real jobs (usually undesirable ones like bus drivers or sewer workers), wives who tolerated their husbands’ explosive tempers and rolled their eyes at men’s foolishness, and neighbors who shared their struggles.

…The suburban ideal often promised more than it delivered. Obviously, appliances alone would not make a housewife happy. Women in Levittown often complained about feeling trapped and isolated, facing endless chores and tending to children. For them, suburban life was not a life of fun and leisure but exhausting work and loneliness. Time-consuming commuting reduced the amount of time men could spend with their families, and for the suburban women who held jobs outside the home, the burden was even heavier. They faced work on the job, a long commute home, and then all the chores considered to be “woman’s work” in the home.

The struggle to achieve the ideal suburban life took its toll on men as well as women. Since the primary goal of the “breadwinner” was to provide for his family, it was expected that he would work for the best steady pay, regardless of whether he enjoyed the job. The reward was in the quality of life that the man’s income could buy--not the intrinsic satisfactions of the job itself. The woman’s part of the bargain was to keep the home cheerful and clean, and to be content with the homemaker role. If either partner believed that the other was not keeping the bargain, trouble brewed.

…By 1950, 41 percent of all employed black women worked in private homes. Another 19 percent worked in office buildings, restaurants, and hotels as scrubwomen, maids, and housekeepers. Of the remaining 40 percent, many worked in farm labor. In spite of the migration to the North, as late as 1950, 68 percent of African Americans still lived in the South. The lives of southern black women largely resembled that of their female ancestors during slavery: living in shacks, working sun up to sun down, forced to obey local white people or risk severe consequences.

In the North, as whites continued to move to the suburbs, blacks became more concentrated in the cities. By 1960 blacks were more urbanized than whites. North as well as South, black men earned less than half of what white men earned, and black women received less than half the amount that white women earned. Black women continued to face the most dismal prospects for paid employment, but they continued to take whatever jobs they could get. In the postwar years, white women faced pressure to become full-time homemakers, and were often stigmatized if they held jobs. But black women faced no such stigma.

…Suburbs fostered tightly knit nuclear families in loosely knit communities and extended family networks. People moved often, and ties to neighbors were often weak, since the nuclear family was expected to be self-sufficient and self-enclosed. People did come together in a number of associations, most notably in the churches and synagogues that sprang up across the country. The suburban landscape was dotted with religious institutions, as Americans joined congregations in record numbers. People also came together in local civic institutions. Women joined local PTAs, women’s clubs, and charities, and they organized scout troops and other enrichment programs for their children.

These efforts provided women with community ties, and gave them the opportunity to shape social, religious, and educational institutions in their neighborhoods. These were important tasks. But deep sources of mutual support and tight networks based on kinship and friendship were difficult to achieve in the suburbs. People moved in and out too quickly, and many left their relatives and ethnic communities when they moved to the suburbs. The isolation of the nuclear family also inhibited the casual visiting that took place on the stoops of urban apartments or the streets of the cities. Those outside the suburbs were more likely to develop strong ties of support with relatives and friends. It was both more possible, and more necessary, to do so.”

- Elaine Tyler May, “Suburbia: The Homemaker’s Work Place.” in Pushing the Limits: American Women, 1940-1961

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Unpredictable path of sales: Virtual Reality

Success of a company depends on the Success of a new product . Not only Sales and marketing team hooked on number for new product sale even production capacity , supply chain and working capital estimation for new product are quite crucial . There are traditional Methods like cojoint analysis are available to test market adoption for new product , However to get exact forecast for new product sales volume still a big challenge .

VR Game Changer :-

We have seen examples of some great products when they were launched looked very promising . However, they could not get the great success . for example TATA Nano , Google Glasses and Apple Newton (( personal digital assistant ) . Probably they were ahead of their times or simply they could not assess consumers interest in product features and attribute . Times have changed now we have Virtual Reality tools available which can help us to get consumers insight in a product much more accurate than traditional methods to predict product adoption . Now research by Harz and team recommends a novel solution : having potential customer interact with planned product using Virtual Reality . Combined with right statics model , VR based interactions yield more reliable data for product analytics and improvement . Now with VR consumers can experience product in much immersive way and interact with computer to generate seamless information flow . These are much more accurate than traditional Methods

Hurdles for implementation :-

The biggest hurdle is designing a very immersive VR system for product testing . A three dimensional , 360 degree VR can cost as much as $10000 per minute . But a less immersive VR system can cost fraction of this . The price of a popular VR system ranges from $10 Display that can be integrated to a smartphone to few hundred Us dollars . Though the cost may be roadblock but benefits accrued are immense . The result obtained product testing by VR is of gold standard compared to tradition market research techniques . In product testing in some scenarios it has been observed that VR bases outcomes are accurate more than 50% compared to traditional test . The error in projecting post launch sale was only 2 % in VR based models . which is much less than 40% - 60% success in traditional methods of product testing .

When to use VR Decision :-

It is important to understand when to use VR based models for predicting sales of a product compared to tradition methods . For example for FMCG product it is much cheaper to test market product sales by interacting with consumers in reality .Proctor and Gamble and Unilever of the world where cost of product is much less can afford to have real life interactions with consumers . However as we go up towards consumer durables and more so costly product like Automobiles , where cost of producing a prototype is much higher VR Based product testing will be much useful . for complex products where different attributes of product hold different value for consumers VR based product techniques . Proper Analysis of VR based Product testing and sales prediction will also help in minimizing cost of establishing Product line , Distribution . This will help in customization of various product features also .

In nutshell .. Virtual is becoming real !! At least in Arena of product testing .