#I was extremely alone in a lot of my experiences

[redtrack]

fogo e noite | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!portuguese!reader

summary: two similar but still different cultures clash. how would charles leclerc, a monégasque f1 driver, react to having a portuguese girlfriend?

author’s note: a bit of a self insert here but nothing serious! i thought that it would be adequate to make my first ever work close to home. vamos, portugal! this is quite short since i’m only experimenting, but let me know what you think!

warnings: usage of y/n, mentions of fem! reader, reader has a previously defined nationality, some cursing, english is not my native language :( i used some photos from pinterest so the rights go to their rightful owners, user alexandra as a faceclaim on the last post

twitter

charles e carlos reagem a comentários parte 2 — by shell v-power

(charles and carlos react to comments part 2)

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instagram

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 167,000 more

yourusername tinha que o levar ao dragão (sorry for the yelling baby ❤️)

(had to take him to dragão's football stadium)

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc it's okay, mon ange 🤍 (why were you wearing another man's name on your back, though?)

yourusername last time i checked you didn't play for porto

user5 CLOCK HIM !!!

charles_leclerc watch me sign with them next season

user81 a queen é portista obrigada deus 🙏🙏 (the queen supports porto thank you god) liked by author

yourusername 💙

user31 y/n taking charles to a football game in her city is so them coded for some reason

user16 exposing him to the good stuff

yourbestfriend you always go a bit crazy on game day

yourusername leave me alone omg i’m worse on race days liked by charles_leclerc

user14 she’s so us omg 😭

user98 FORÇA PORTO ALEEE !!! (GO PORTO!!!) liked by author

charles’s interview for gq magazine

Q: You have recently made your relationship with the Portuguese model Y/N Y/LN public. How do you two manage a multi-cultural love?

Charles: I must admit that I was quite scared at the beginning. (laughs) We come from different cultures and grew up a thousand miles apart.

Thankfully, we both speak english quite fluently and my Y/N has picked up some french from her education in Portugal. I love it when we speak in french. (laughs)

The hardest part was probably meeting her family. They’re quite diverse when it comes to age, so at first I was only able to communicate with the ones close to our without Y/N translating everything, since the oldest and the youngest generations don’t speak english at all.

When I first met her dad, he was super friendly, but I understood that he would change languages every time he spoke to Y/N about me. She later reassured me that it wasn’t anything bad. (laughs)

Despite everything, they have always been extremely welcoming and friendly to me and I truly feel like a part of the family whenever we come to visit.

Q: We take it as you have her family’s blessing, then?

Charles: I hope so! (laughs)

Both of her parents are long time fans of the sport, just like my Y/N, so I think that really helped. And my charm. (laughs)

Q: How about your family? What was their reaction when meeting Y/N?

Charles: My Maman was very excited. (laughs)

I had already talked a lot about Y/N to my mother and brothers, so it kinda felt like they knew her for ages.

It was a really special night for us. Y/N had been away from home for a while. She was extremely home-sick, but still insisted in meeting my family. I was really touched.

I told my Maman about it, so that we could avoid certain topics during dinner not to make Y/N uncomfortable. But when we got there, we found out that my mother had attempted to cook some of my Y/N’s favorite home dishes to make her feel better. She spent the rest of the night hugging Maman while crying and thanking her a million times. (laughs)

I fell in love with her a bit more after that day.

Q: You two seem like a very romantic couple.

Charles: We are. I absolutely love her with my whole heart and I know it goes both ways.

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charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc this picture was taken in the very first few hours of 2025 somewhere in Portugal with my baby.

happy new year everyone 😘

tagged yourusername

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yourusername happy new year charlie 💓

charles_leclerc feliz ano novo, mon ange 🤍

pierregasly already spending new year's with her family i see

charles_leclerc you did the same with kika though

user54 ate him up omg

user81 watching their relationship grow in front of my eyes make me cry

user43 they're my favorite couple

user67 oh he travelled to spend new year's with her and her family i'm sick

user21 i love them sm

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 198 720 others

yourusername eu, o meu monegasco e o meu porto para sempre ❤️

(me, my monégasque and my porto forever)

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charles_leclerc ❤️

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Hi Rachel,

In some of my writing I’m beginning to notice more and more that certain characters (not all) remind me of myself lol. And I hate it, I go back and rewrite them. But I’m interested if you relate to any of your characters as well so—Out of the characters you’ve written (Lonan, Reeve, Harrison, etc..) who do you think is the most like you? And what’s your take on writers seeing themselves in some of their characters?

feel about seeing reflections

Hahaha I used to HATE writing characters that were like me, and it took a while to realize that actually, they ALL are me in some iteration. To answer your question about writers seeing themselves in their characters—if writing characters that are “self-inserts” makes you joyful, DO IT!!! If writing characters who aren’t self-inserts but have attributes to you makes you joyful, DO IT! Or if you’re not into it—that’s fine too! Life is too short! Have fun with what works for you!

My experience below, this gets kind of intense as a warning! CW: suicidal ideation, disocciation

Aligning myself with my characters has been an intensely life-saving experience. I’m not sure I’d be here if it were not for Lonan… 16-year-old Rachel WAS him, and also needed him because literally nobody else “understood” where I was at except for him (undiagnosed autism for BOTH OF US??).

There was a time of my life where I couldn’t emotionally regulate at all, and in moments of stress, would often dissociate and quite literally converse with this man (looking back now, this was just a coping mechanism—confirmed by my doctor btw!—but for a couple years he was a genuine part of my psyche, like moved out of just character territory). I think I talked about this years ago, but I have a really distinct memory of disconnecting so much I quite literally thought he was THERE next to me, which I needed—he really became an externalization of the things I couldn’t deal with (or didn’t understand how to deal with). I needed to see myself reflected in the eye of someone else and for a really long time that was Lonan for me. Actually screaming crying that’s so cute.

And Lonan is similar to me in a lot of ways! This is a side tangent but when I was first diagnosed as autistic it made me wonder if I’d inadvertently written any autistic characters & it struck me way back then that the person most similar to me (Lonan lol) is probably also autistic. I was like—sensory issues?? No emotional regulation?? Speaks a bit oddly?? We are THE SAME. Haven’t really confirmed this in canon lol but I’ve been thinking about it since 2021.

Funnily, now that I have that diagnosis, my life is a lot more stable so like… I’m not currently the most like Lonan lol. But me at 16-19??? Absolutely him.

Unfortunately, I am currently HARRISON, which isn’t ideal but just like he’s a 21-year-old experiencing horrors I’m a 21-year-old experiencing horrors (which is why BB is sometimes painful to write cuz I’m like oooooh I’m feeling this… too much). To be fair, I’ve always said I’m the introverted version of Harrison (because I am lol our personality types are the same, not that I believe in those but since I was like 13 I’ve said this). But just like Lonan, Harrison has helped me now process some tough things this year that I’m not sure how else I would’ve survived. It’s important to me that I have fictional vessels to explore my own life with because it can help me identify problems & then learn to empathize with myself by empathizing with a character first.

Of course they’re also separate from me—they absolutely didn’t start as ME but as time goes on I start seeing myself in them particularly (Reeve sometimes too—our kindred spirits with processing toxic relationships <3). Maybe it’s because I am autistic, but I find it useful to understand my experiences via someone else. I love seeing the ways we can inform each other.

My TL;DR is I’m Harrison if he was Lonan so I guess I’m BB Harrison. Love this for me so much. But also add autism. Which is probably already there because: Lonan. LMAO and a dash of Reeve’s compartmentalization skills. And we have me!

[sideprince]

I resent getting dragged into the discourse but it's wild to me that there are people out there who read the HP books and laud Harry for being brave and having a big heart and redeeming the wizarding world with his unusually great ability to love, yet can't comprehend how he could learn to appreciate Snape's sacrifice.

I'm very specifically thinking of the fact that Harry watches Snape die. Snape, who is lying on the floor, gripping Harry's robes, and whose eyes Harry is looking into and seeing the life leave. I don't understand how people can humanize some fictional characters and treat them as if they were real and completely dehumanize another. Not even for Snape's sake, but for Harry's sake, do these people not understand what it is to watch someone die? What's the expectation, that the Capacity For Love Posterchild protagonist steps out of character and doesn't care about the guy he watches bleed out and die suffering because you, as a reader, don't like him?

Which is it? Does Harry have a huge capacity to love or not? Pick a lane. Either you value this character trait in Harry or you don't. But you have to take or leave everything it comes with, otherwise you're a hypocrite. Or maybe illiterate.

I just don't GET it.

[painfully-unoriginal]

2 this day i still see ppl saying any fan art or even official art w dan genuinely smiling is out of character. u dont kno him like i do

[theygender]

I've got too many games I want to play and not enough free time 😭 I still need to finish my BG3 playthrough but since Endless Ocean: Luminous came out I've been playing a lot of that instead. Also just got back into Wizard101 last night. Started playing House Flipper again last weekend. Still need to finish BOTW so I can start a TOTK playthrough and finish Pokemon Shield so I can start on Pokemon Violet. I've been fighting off the urge to start up a new Skyrim playthrough for weeks. My brother just told me that Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door is getting ported to the Switch. And now I'm suddenly feeling inspired to replay DAI... And throughout all of this I'm also playing the hell out of DragonVale on my phone. Someone just pay me to play video games all day please

[contagious-watermelon]

It's interesting to me that understandings of transsexuality have been almost exclusively filtered through the lens of queerness and the social aspects of gender. In other words, that the "T" was added to "LGBT." I've thought for a while that in a lot of cases, transness — and specifically dysphoria — makes a lot more sense when analyzed through the lens of disability rather than through queerness. (Personally I see it as being at the intersection between those things.)

I think that a theory of transsexuality would be incomplete without taking into account the societal aspects of gender, yes, but it seems to be similarly incomplete in the popular understanding of it.

I've seen a lot of discussion in the stuff I've read by disabled people about the contention between being objectively harmed or, well, disabled, by your disability, but still wanting to be proud of it or finding identity in it regardless. A lot of autistic communities, I've noticed, talk a lot about the fact that being autistic is difficult; it's made worse by other people's reactions to it, but it still is hard on its own (e.g. auditory overstimulation); yet people still can say that they'd rather be autistic than not. Or they may say they wish they weren't, but that they've come to terms with it because it's not exactly changeable.

Point is, there's open discussion about the differences between inherent challenges to your disability regardless of society, the ways which ableism makes things more difficult, and the contention of finding identity and community in your disability despite that. (And I use autism as an example because I'm autistic; I don't want to speak for, say, a physically disabled community as I'm able-bodied. But I have seen similar discussions there as well.)

The trans community, as I've seen, doesn't really have that. We're polarized between the extremely self-hating people who think that being trans is a curse and that people who like being trans are just fakers co-opting transness, and the toxically positive contingent who refuse to engage with the fact that sometimes dysphoria really does just hurt. And also that transphobia exists.

There's also the fact that in many ways, dysphoria is actually disabling. It isn't for everyone, and part of the problem is that transness as a concept covers so many things that analyzing it through just one lens will always be incomplete, but for me at least it caused me a lot of depression and dissociation, and made it difficult-to-impossible to interact with other people or function at my classes. Back before I medically transitioned, I related a lot to some descriptions by disabled people about their chronic pain, because my dysphoria effectively was chronic psychological pain. I don't want to say it's the same thing, because obviously I've only experienced one of those things, and dysphoria has a treatment while many (all?) chronic illnesses don't, but nevertheless it was a comforting lens to think of my dysphoria through in the time before I got top surgery.

Also of note is the way both our communities are treated by the medical establishment. I've heard many horror stories by disabled people of how doctors simply refuse to diagnose them or give them issues with their meds. Trans people obviously also have to deal with the shit that doctors put out in order to get access to HRT and any necessary surgeries. People deride HRT, saying that we shouldn't take it because it'll "make you a medical patient for life." People act like mental pain isn't real — calling depression fake, acting like because things like fibromyalgia aren't "real pain" that it shouldn't bother you so much, etc. — and that extends too into the way they dismiss the pain of gender dysphoria.

So, I don't really understand why the trans community has taken so many pains to disavow themselves from being considered even remotely similar to disabled people. I know that the common refrain, "we're not mentally ill!" is meant to combat the idea that we're deluded into thinking that we're a "different gender" than we really are, but the effect is throwing actually mentally ill trans people under the bus. The insistence that there's no way that dysphoria should be considered a disorder because there's nothing wrong with us — I just think that we could take a hint or two from the way that disabled people theorize about this subject.

[androphagy]

the big overlap is intentional and this is directly related to my last post!!!! people who are telling you we're so different are lying to you and the differences between us are not the fault of the trans community but can be exacerbated by the bigotry systemic to the cultures we live in across the world

[te4k3ttle]

Extremely burnt out unable to draw anything when I have both free time and shit ton of ideas hardest battles for the most already tired soldiers

[bpd4bpd]

anyone else's lack of emotional permanence contributes a LOT to their imposter syndrome?? i know its a bit paradoxical since thats literally a symptom of bpd AND adhd but my silly self likes to grasp at any straws i can to "proof" im faking

[steviescrystals]

i will never shut up about how much i hate the college system in the us and the way it’s all about money because i genuinely love learning and i miss being in school so fucking bad but i simply cannot afford the education i want

[taliabhattwrites]

I don't think there is a significant or notable number of people who believe transmascs are not oppressed.

I feel slightly insane just having to type this out, but this is rhetoric you inevitably come across if you discuss transfeminism on Tumblr.

The mainstream, cissexist understanding of transmasculine people is the Irreversible Damage narrative (one that's old enough to show up in Transsexual Empire as well) of transmascs as "misguided little girls", "tricked" into "mutilating themselves". It is a deliberately emasculating and transphobic narrative that very explicitly centers on oppression, even if the fevered imaginings misattribute the cause. As anyone who's dealt with the gatekeeping medical establishment knows, they are far from giving away HRT or even consults with both hands, and most transfems I know have a hard enough time convincing people to take DIY T advice, leave alone "tricking" anyone into top surgery.

Arguably, the misogyny that transmasculine folks experience is the defining narrative surrounding their existence, as transmasculinity is frequently and erroneously attributed to "tomboyish women" who resent their position in the patriarchy so much they seek to transition out of it. This rhetoric is an invisiblization of transmasculinity, constructed deliberately to preserve gendered verticality, for if it were possible to "gain status" under the sexed regime, its entire basis, its ideological naturalization, would fall apart.

Honestly, the actual discussions I see are centered around whether "transmisogyny" is a term that should apply to transmascs and transfems alike. While I understand the impetus for that discussion, I feel like the assertion that transmisogyny is a specific oppression that transfems experience for our perceived abandonment of the "male sex" is often conflated with the incorrect idea that we believe transmasculine people are not oppressed at all. This is not true, and we understand, rather acutely, that our society is entirely organized around reproductive exploitation. That is, in fact, the source of transfeminine disposability!

I know I'm someone who "just got here" and there is a history here that I'm not a part of, but so much of that history is speckled with hearsay and fabrication that I can't even attempt to make sense of it. All I know is that I, in 2024, have been called a revived medieval slur for effeminate men by people who attribute certain beliefs to me based on my being a trans woman who is also a feminist, and I simply do not hold those views, nor do I know anyone who sincerely does.

If you're going to attempt to discredit a transfeminist, or transfeminism in general, then please at least do us the courtesy of responding to things we actually say and have actually argued instead of ascribing to us phantom ideologies in a frankly conspiratorial fashion. I also implore people to pay attention to how transphobic rhetoric operates out in the wider world, how actual reactionaries talk about and think of trans people, instead of fixating so hard on internecine social media clique drama that one enters an alternate reality--a phantasm, as Judith Butler would put it.

Speaking of which--do y'all have any idea how overrepresented transmascs are in trans studies and queer theory? Can we like, stop and reckon with reality-as-it-is, instead of hallucinating a transfeminine hegemony where it doesn't exist? I'm aware a lot of their output isn't particularly explicative on the material realities of transmasculine oppression despite their prominence in the academy, but that is ... not the fault of trans women, who face extremely harsh epistemic injustice even in trans studies.

The actual issue is how invisiblized transmasculine oppression is and how the epistemicide that transmasculine people face manifests as a refusal to differentiate between the misogyny all women face, reproductive exploitation in particular, and the contours of violence, erasure, and oppression directed at specifically transmasculine people.

You will notice that is a society-wide problem, motivated by a desire to erase the possibilities of transmasculinity, to the point of not even being willing to name it. You will notice that I am quite familiar with how this works, and how it's completely compatible with a materialist transfeminist framework that analyzes how our oppression is--while distinct--interlinked and stems from the same root.

I sincerely hope that whoever needs to see this post sees it, and that something productive--more productive dialogue, at least--can arise from it.

[gurorori]

continuin the prev post here cuz i feel comfy hidin my talks in tags but i always near the tag limit

[genderqueerdykes]

if you are a trans man or masc, masculine nonbinary, genderqueer, genderfluid or other gender non conforming identity, masc gay, a bear, a butch, stud, or boi, or other masculine queer person and don't feel welcome in any queer spaces, you're not alone.

the communities both irl and online have become EXTREMELY hostile toward mascs and men to the point of straight up excluding us and changing their wording to justify their violent exclusion. from renaming nonbinary spaces to "femme & them" and "she+" spaces, to telling men & mascs that they would "Scare" the women and "nonbinary" folks just by being there, as if masculinity and manhood are inherently traumatizing to be around.

masculine and male nonbinary folks have it so hard- most nonbinary spaces are almost definitely women's spaces who also conflate womanhood with nonbinaryhood, and often times just view nonbinary people as confused women. we are not inherently traumatizing to be around: masc enbies need places to go. we are still nonbinary and still trans and still queer for fucks' sake

nonbinary has never and will never mean femme or woman-adjacent inherently. nonbinary means what it means: people who don't or refuse to adhere to the gender binary, regardless of what side it is. masculinity is included in this, femininity is not the only way to be nonbinary.

masc queers do not have to bend over backwards to try to be more feminine and thus "less threatening" in order to have places to go. that's dysphoric and just inaccurate to a lot of queer folks' identity and presentation. it blows my mind because it makes no sense, anyway, even within the gay community, hypermasculinity has been present and even sought after by some people who find it very attractive, twunks, hunks, bears... but between the periods in queer history people started viewing masc gay leathermen and kinksters as the ones who were responsible for spreading AIDS and thus removing them from pride parades,

AND the lesbian separatism moment picking up to remove butches & male & masc lesbians from lesbian spaces identity, paving the way for modern rdical femniism, we've only entered a downhill landslide of hating men and mascs and ultimately trying to erase us from the queer community entirely.

the queer community is not the "women & femmes community". the queer experience is broad and vast, it includes a wide variety of masculine and male experiences, as well as genderfluid, multigender, completely ungendered and other gendered experiences. the lesbian, trans, bisexual, nonbinary, gay and general queer communities aren't the "safe place to hide from men & mascs community" like estranged rdfems and terfpilled trans folk like to tell you they are.

this is the QUEER community and it includes ALL forms of queerness, masc, femme, butch, male, neutral, bigender, neutral, and all. he/shes and he/hims and he/theys and he/its and so on are just as much of a part of this communities as she/hers and they/thems. you can't cast a blanket of "inherently abusive" over all men and mascs and one of "inherently abused/incapable of being abusive" over all women and femmes because that just traps you in a fantasy land that doesn't exist AND it prevents mascs and men from getting the help, resources and community they NEED.

men & mascs are hurt and abused by women & femmes every day and we refuse to speak about them because we live under a white cisheteronormal patriarchy and have complaints about how that functions. the complaints are legitimate but assuming that all men and mascs are oppressing all women and femmes and that women can never be oppressive is a false as hell narrative that actively damages people.

enough is enough. this mindset is hurting people. it's leaving masc and male queers to be estranged, harmed and even dead. i care about you if you're being affected by this mentality and these behaviors. you deserve community, safety, and a sense of belonging, you do belong, even if we struggle to form our own spaces due to unjust hatred. we will do our best to band together and keep each other safe. we must

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Dutch Courage

Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.

Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 2.9K

Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words

Masterlist

The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.

And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.

Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.

“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.

“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.

Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”

Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.

“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”

“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”

Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 

It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.

“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 

“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”

Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”

“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.

“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.

“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 

They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 

Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.

Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”

“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.

Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.

Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.

Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.

The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.

It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.

Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.

“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.

“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 

“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.

Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”

Even though the comment wasn't that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along, nearly toppling over.

The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.

When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.

Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 

Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.

He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.

Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.

Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.

“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.

“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.

Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.

When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.

“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm.

Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.

Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.

At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.

They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 

Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.

When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 

She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.

[ghouldtime]

Mean König this, loser König that blah blah blah

How about instead König being the introvert he is with weirdly specific hobbies to match. I'm thoroughly convinced this guy has an army of miniatures (which he all HAND PAINTED, thank you very much).

How about König being frugal and reusing a lot of things or DIY'ing them himself. Things are always too expensive these days and why on earth would he buy a new one when he has one he picked up years ago that works just fine?? C'mon, he made a mask out of a t-shirt, can't convince me that's the only thing he's reused or repurposed.

He's not a gross, disgusting pervert who snorkels with the sludges of humanity in the bottom of the degenerate barrel. [Going to go on the record to say write what you want, that's your choice. But at the same time, it's my choice to say: Genuinely, what the fuck to a LOT of what I've seen in the König tag]

He's also not an UWU shy guy who cries because you took his mask off. Please, his voice lines are so cocky, he's not going to sob and cower because some jackass tried harassing him these days. He's a damn good solider, he's proud of it, he knows it and knows how to use it

Still going to call him baby girl, doesn't make him any less of one, he's just not a wimp with no backbone who crumples into a heap because someone mildly made fun of him. He breaks backs, I'm sure he's kept at least a spine of his own (at least as a souvenir)

Social anxiety doesn't always mean being ridiculously sensitive and the lack of research put into it when it comes to writing König realllllly shows. Proper representation matters and when it's reduced to being a stuttering, co-dependent mess who can barely function on their own and is just overly clinging, it's not cute - it's hurting the narrative around it and further perpetuating untrue and negative stereotypes.

Social anxiety means many different things to many different people and shows itself in so so many ways. No two people experience it or feel it the exact same way, but it's helping NO ONE when you're ignoring blatant characterization of it and how it presents for someone to change it so you can meld them into a stereotypical box

Rant over, I just love König so much (he was my initial draw to this whole fandom) and hate seeing what's done to him in some really, REALLY deplorable extremes

Going to probably write a König reader insert at some point out of spite alone at this rate

[omgthatdress]

Just a little considerations for those still grieving Liam Payne

So, right now, you are probably still lost in some very real grief over someone you never met but has still been a major part of your life since you were thirteen. You feel like you've lost an extremely close friend. It's hard to imagine your life where he isn't somehow present.

I know all this because felt the exact same way seven years ago when Chester Bennington died by suicide. And I do have a little bit of wisdom to share with you all right now, wisdom that I really wish I didn't have.

First of all, it's okay to be sad. To cry. To feel like shit and wish this had happened to someone else, someone who deserved it. Give yourself the time and space to feel all that because it's the only way you can start to move on. Feeling sad is only a problem when, months later, you simply CAN'T move on. That's depression, and that's when you should seek professional mental health treatment.

Secondly, there aren't going to be ANY easy answers in this. Right now a lot of people are looking for fingers to point, people to blame, and even finding conspiracy theories that Liam was murdered. While it may be initially comforting to fall into the idea that Liam didn't do this to himself, he was murdered for some reason (usually because he was going to expose a pedophile ring of some sort), conspiracy theories are always wrong and will NEVER give you the satisfying answer you want.

It was Liam's decision to step out onto that balcony, and his alone. It is no one else's fault. Accepting that is incredibly hard to do, but it is ultimately what will grant you the most peace.

As for what lead up to that, well, there's a lot. Fucked up celebrity deaths are kind of my Roman Empire, so while I never knew Liam, I DO know a lot about what leads up to huge, terrible tragedies that play out in the tabloids in extremely ugly ways.

Becoming famous at a really young age is an incredibly mixed bag. While you do get to live out this shit 99% of people on earth can only dream of, it does mean you often find yourself at 30 with a career that's basically over. A lot of young celebs simply don't know what to do with themselves once the fame and adoration has dried up, and the answer is usually to do an absolute fuck ton of drugs.

Drug and alcohol abuse changes your personality. I know this from personal experience. Someone very close to me developed a serious problem with alcohol, and turned from a kind, funny, wonderful person to someone nasty, abusive, and resentful. Someone I didn't recognize at all. While I and my person were very lucky that they were able to quit drinking, not everyone is so lucky.

Liam deserved better. He was so young and he still had ample opportunity to turn his life around. But he made one terrible decision, and now he's dead, and there simply is no changing that.

So what do you do? Remember him, and love him. Be grateful for the joy that he brought into your life. Sing his songs, and stay close to the friends you made because of him. The fact that you are so fucking sad right now is a beautiful thing, because it only shows how deeply loved Liam Payne really was.