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no-144444 · 2 months ago

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playing favourites- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

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It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car.

“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed.

“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”

You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-”

“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded.

“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away.

It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again.

“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?”

“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”

Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed.

You couldn’t keep doing this.

In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1.

And you’d just fucked it up.

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom.

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“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you.

“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”

“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted.

“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was.

“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11.

Shit.

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“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”

“Y/n-” he started.

“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!”

He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back.

Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit.

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P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”

He nodded. “We’ll keep working.”

You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head.

He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie.

You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his.

He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.

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“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks.

“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space.

“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control.

“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer.

“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?”

Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room.

“I don’t know what to do.

He heard your voice, thick with emotion.

“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”

“I’m exhausted-”

“I’m not asking.”

He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.

“She should go on her own-”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged.

You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone.

“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.

“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”

“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?”

“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”

“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed.

“An ego? No thanks.”

“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”

“Without what?”

He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”

Oscar smirked. “Talent.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”

And off you went, running again.

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P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.

But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit.

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You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you. You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone.

You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar.

Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.

Osc.

You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you.

“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin.

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When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”

“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”

“I-”

“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

playing favourites masterlist

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theclassiccosmic · 2 months ago

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Ways to Please the Venus Signs 🔥All the Way to the Bedroom🔥

🛑 Disclaimer: 18+ only 🛑

Aries Venus or Venus in the 1st House - Be bold. Be forward as hell, then pull back. Tease to the point of edging until they seize it. If they truly want you, they will. Impulse control is not in their vocabulary.

Taurus Venus or Venus in the 2nd House - Linger on your touches or kisses. Play the long game by texting them sensual messages/photos. Something for them to admire before they can actually ravish you.

Gemini Venus or Venus in the 3rd House - Switch it up! Geminis love variety, so if you can be both submissive and dominating they'll eat that sh*t up. Also be up for trying new positions and/or toys. Oh and phone sex, they love that!

Cancer Venus or Venus in the 4th House - Might love to be babied or will be more giving to you in the bedroom. Romance is key here, they want the grand gestures almost every time. Not a fan of a quickie. Foreplay, foreplay, foreplay.

Leo Venus or Venus in the 5th House - if you haven't made it to the bedroom yet, then your Leo hasn't felt special enough to gift themselves to you. Lay on the praise. Leos love gifts and I wouldn't be wrong in saying, if you gifted them lingerie then they may "gift" you with a sexy little fashion show!

Virgo Venus or Venus in the 6th House - shower sex might be their thing. Getting dirty while getting clean. Or your Virgo Venus partner may truly appreciate you getting an STD test before y'all are intimate. Turn them on with sexy playlists while you lead them to the bedroom. Let them know they're safe to lose all control with you.

Libra Venus or Venus in the 7th House - can be a giver vs. receiver in the bedroom, but don't let that fool you. It's in your best interest to cater to them in the bedroom, too, for fear of resentment later. They are the sign of harmony, after all. Massages as foreplay might win you big points here!

Scorpio Venus or Venus in the 8th House - Before the bedroom, they'll want to feel that the sexual undercurrent is already there, so make sure there's lots of lusty eye contact while flirting. Maybe a nice playful butt grab before the deed. But once it's ON, get ready for a marathon! Scorpio Venus stay hor*y even after 1 orgasm (read: 2, 3, 4...). 🥵

Sagittarius Venus or Venus in the 9th House - Oral 😋 it's giving, "what that mouth do though?" Or how about a makeout sesh in the car that leads to a quickie in the backseat? Yes, please! Whatever it is always be direct and honest with them about what you like and don't like in the bedroom. You'll both find more pleasure that way.

Capricorn Venus or Venus in the 10th House - Show your "traditional" dominant side. Lead her to a room with your hand on the small of her back 🤤 Brush the hair away from their face before you kiss them orrrrr *gently* push their back against a wall as you initiate a kiss or intimacy. Think sex "scenes" from a book. They want you to lead (most of the time, at least 😉)

Aquarius Venus or Venus in the 11th House - you're going to have to be different to grab their attention and actually stimulate them mentally to the point of turn on. Let them teach you the ways they like to be touched, kissed or 👅-ed 🫠

Pisces Venus or Venus in the 12th House - do not, I repeat do not coax a Pisces Venus into the bed with you unless you plan to cuff up this sweet angel. After sleeping together (hell, probably during it too) a Pisces Venus will already be manifesting and visualizing your futures together, married and old and gray. Do not hit it and quit it with these babies. They'll make sure karma repays you. But if you are lucky enough to be coupled up with one, you can turn them on by letting them know that you aren't ever leaving their side. Pisces and Scorpio love that "merging into 1" kinda love 💞

#astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology #venus signs #venus #learn astrology #zodiac #bedroom #18+ mdni

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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago

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𝐇𝐈𝐌 & 𝐈 𝜗ϱ . . . 𝓟𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝓑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons﹒drug use﹒kinda toxic relationship﹒ p in v﹒handjobs﹒choking﹒use of the word “daddy”

SFW

has a habit of disappearing without explanation, sometimes for days at a time. when he returns, he acts as though nothing happened, brushing off your concerns with dismissive and cryptic responses.

extremely critical of appearances as he doesn’t handle flaws well—patrick fully expects you to mirror his aesthetic standards. even the slightest imperfection, such as chipped nail polish or an out-of-place hair, will piss him off. you’re basically his personal doll at this point—he buys you designer clothes, ensuring you wear the “right” brands to fit his ideal of a partner. he notices everything, from your choice of perfume down to the shade of lipstick you wear. if you switch brands, he’ll immediately make a comment on it.

prefers to keep conversations shallow and detached, as deep emotional topics make him uncomfortable. he constantly rambles about his niche obsessions—pop culture, business cards, and the “superiority” of certain types of suits. that being said, patrick talks at you rather than with you. he can yap on for an entire dinner about the fabric quality of valentino suits or the importance of a tie that “truly complements the suit’s structure.”

a walking encyclopedia on serial killers. in the middle of any conversation, he’ll start spouting facts about ted bundy or ed gein. he expects you to be thoroughly impressed by his knowledge and gets viscerally disappointed if you don’t show interest.

genuinely believes his opinions on music are groundbreaking. he’ll pull out albums and spend a good thirty minutes explaining why genesis or huey lewis and the news are masterpieces, analysing lyrics and production with the passion of a critic.

talks about dorsia as if it’s the holy grail of fine dining. if he’s lucky enough to get a reservation, he’ll spend days before and after the meal casually hyping it up to everyone, making sure they know he managed to get a table. however, if he fails to secure a reservation, it completely ruins his week. you sometimes wonder if he’d cry over it. (as a matter of fact, he does)

frequently asks if you think his business card is better than “so-and-so’s,” as if it’s a critical matter. if he gets even a whiff of another guy’s success, patrick becomes obsessed with one-upping them. you’ve had to sit through countless complaints about paul allen, his dorsia reservations, the fisher account. he can’t handle criticism, especially if it challenges his idea of “perfection.” if you casually mention you’re not a fan of his music taste or his suit choice, he’ll literally sulk about it for days.

when patrick gets jealous, you’ll catch him clenching his jaw, his hand gripping your waist a bit too tightly. sometimes he’ll try to act indifferent, but the slight sweat on his forehead or the vein throbbing in his temple gives him away.

lives by his routines and gets annoyed if anything disrupts them. you’re expected to adhere to his exact schedule when you’re with him, from gym time to dinner to his beloved skincare regimen. if something goes off-plan, he becomes irritable, even if it’s just because you suggested a new restaurant.

although he appears to be emotionally distant, he’s highly hypersensitive to how he’s perceived by you. an offhand comment or anything less than admiration from you makes him noticeably on edge.

obsessed with acquiring materialistic items that showcase his success. he’ll bring up these possessions repeatedly, and when he buys something new, for instance a painting or a stereo, he’ll practically drag you to admire it with him, giving an extensive monologue on its artistic value or technical specs.

constantly trying to impress you with his wealth or his “connections.” he’ll drop the names of people he “knows” (sometimes with questionable authenticity) or go out of his way to show you his credit card just to emphasise how wealthy he is. patrick assumes his looks and material success is inherently attractive to you, and if you ever show interest in something less superficial, he’s truly baffled.

always subtly fishing for compliments, but he wants them to sound like they’re coming from you, not just because he’s prompting you. if you mention anything flattering about another human, you can see his jaw clench as he makes a mental note to find something he’s “better” at. if you don’t give him the attention he craves, he becomes passive-aggressive until you finally give in and tell him how handsome he is.

if you so much as hesitate before complimenting patrick, it eats at him. he starts nitpicking his own looks, spending even more time obsessing over his skincare routine, gym sessions, and hair products.

to patrick, relationships are transactional. he’s constantly buying you lavish gifts, partially to impress you, but mostly to keep you “tied” to him. he would be genuinely insulted if you didn’t wear or display his gifts, taking it as a personal rejection, even though he never explicitly says this. instead, he’d pout or go into a passive-aggressive silence until you “make it up” to him (usually with sex)

loves the fact that you’re both attracted to and a little intimidated of him. what he doesn’t know is that you also think he’s a pathetic loser.

insecure about whether you actually love him or are just with him for his wealth and status. he craves reassurance but would never directly ask for it, so instead, he does things to elicit compliments from you or waits for you to say something affirming.

secretly torn between wanting to keep you as a sort of trophy and feeling an actual attachment he doesn’t understand. on more than one occasion, he’s imagined what it might be like to marry you—he’s even purchased a 7ct diamond ring on impulse. the thought terrifies him, though. he’s afraid of real intimacy, of anyone truly knowing who he is. still, he sometimes drops hints about “the future,” gauging your reaction to see if you might even consider it.

likes it when you adjust his tie or fix his collar. there’s something about your delicate hands on him, perfecting his appearance, that makes the blood rush to his groin as he reminisces the same pair of hands wrapped around his cock. he’ll even purposely wear his tie a little off or leave his collar slightly askew, just so you’ll step in to fix it.

whenever you say goodbye before he leaves, patrick insists on making eye contact, as if daring you to look away first. it’s his way of ensuring that he’s the last thing on your mind as he walks out the door. expects you to fix his lapel, straighten his tie, or give him a quick peck on the cheek. if you forget or rush the routine, there’s disappointment on his side.

patrick insists on every detail being pristine and coordinated, and he takes pride in the aesthetic of matching “his & hers” items. towels, robes, toothbrushes etc. he doesn’t necessarily see this as sentimental but as a way to project his status to anyone who might see it—like a small, smug reminder that you belong to him. he’ll also make a point to keep these items perfectly aligned on the bathroom sink or kitchen counter, internally congratulating himself when he sees them.

adores watching you in the kitchen, especially if you’re wearing something skimpy or nothing but one of his button-ups left undone just enough. he’ll lean in the doorway, watching as you busy yourself slicing fruit or preparing his bran muffins for breakfast. he often finds himself admiring the delicate curve of your neck, the swell of your ass as you move, though he’d never voice anything genuine about it.

his nicknames for you : “kitten”, “bunny”, “sweetheart”, “doll”, “hun” or “honey” in public, “fuckdoll” in private.

your nicknames for him : “daddy”, “sir”, “pat”

super meticulous when it comes to your wardrobe, especially lingerie. he’s obsessed with victoria’s secret and demands that you wear sets he’s chosen—lace and silk, only in shades he deems “fashionable.” as a way to elevate his experience. he’ll sit back with a drink in hand, watching you with an air of smug satisfaction as you parade around the bedroom like it’s a runway.

has certain… kinks that he knows you wouldn’t approve of. this is when sex workers come in handy. sometimes, he wonders if he could somehow desensitise you or change your mind about these things. he drops hints, gauges your reaction to certain acts, and tests boundaries. if you outright refuse to engage in his fantasies, he holds it against you, making passive-aggressive comments about your “prudish” nature or implying that he “puts up with it” because he “cares about you.”

NSFW

his dry cleaning bill has spiked noticeably ever since you started dating. nearly every other day, a new suit or bedsheet stained with cum is dropped off, patrick never looks the dry cleaner in the eye.

patrick’s version of aftercare is incredibly minimal. he’ll be content to simply roll over or give you a lazy kiss on the shoulder but that’s about as soft as it gets—he’ll immediately head off to the en suite to freshen up. if he’s feeling particularly generous, he’ll hand you a bottled water and that’s that. if you need anything more, he’ll listen, but the faraway look in his eyes suggests he’s already moved on mentally.

very fond of kissing your neck or collarbone, especially before you attend social settings—leaving hickeys and bruises. kisses from patrick can be surprisingly sweet and sensual when he’s in a rare moment of vulnerability, but it’s always short-lived.

he’s become addicted to the sound of your voice, so much so that he has tapes of you—masturbating while saying filthy things. when he’s stressed at the office, he’ll slip on his walkman, listening to your sweet whimpers and moans echo in his ears.

gets a thrill every time you say his name—whether it’s a soft “good morning, patrick” or a “mghm-ahh patrick!” when he’s jackhammering his cock into your cunt. he’s especially weak to hearing you coo or whimper his name, and he’ll go out of his way to make you say (scream) it repeatedly.

has a ritualistic routine for doing coke—spreading a neat line along your stomach and the valley between your breasts, admiring how good you look beneath him. when he leans down to snort the line, he often allows his lips to ghost over your hard nipples.

has no problem dropping obscene amounts of money on you—high-end jewelry, designer clothes, perfumes, he loves the way you look in everything he picks out. “only the best,” he’ll mumble as he fastens a diamond necklace on your neck. but his favourite part is admiring the pieces when he has both hands wrapped around your throat while fucking you.

he’s particular about which rings he picks out, envisioning how they’ll look on your fingers while you jerk him off. there’s something erotic about the way they catch light and glitter against your skin.

you’re kneeling in front of him, the hardwood floor cool against your knees as you stroke his thick, angry cock. patrick reaches down, thumb brushing over the 18k rose gold ring he’d recently bought for you. “looks nice on you,” he mumbles, almost distracted. you watch him for a moment, noticing the way he’s staring at your hand, like the ring is something precious he’s put a part of himself into. “you think so?” you ask, trying to read his expression as you continue to jerk him off. patrick clears his throat, dropping his hand a little too quickly. “of course. wouldn’t have bought it otherwise,”

#queue #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman x y/n #patrick bateman fanfic #american psycho #christian bale x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x s/o #slashers x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut

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dandelionsresilience · 7 months ago

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Good News - June 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Victory for Same-Sex Marriage in Thailand

“Thailand’s Senate voted 130-4 today to pass a same-sex marriage bill that the lower house had approved by an overwhelming majority in March. This makes Thailand the first country in Southeast Asia, and the second in Asia, to recognize same-sex relationships. […] The Thai Marriage Equality Act […] will come into force 120 days after publication in the Royal Gazette. It will stand as an example of LGBT rights progress across the Asia-Pacific region and the world.”

2. One of world’s rarest cats no longer endangered

“[The Iberian lynx’s] population grew from 62 mature individuals in 2001 to 648 in 2022. While young and mature lynx combined now have an estimated population of more than 2,000, the IUCN reports. The increase is largely thanks to conservation efforts that have focused on increasing the abundance of its main food source - the also endangered wild rabbit, known as European rabbit. Programmes to free hundreds of captive lynxes and restoring scrublands and forests have also played an important role in ensuring the lynx is no longer endangered.”

3. Planning parenthood for incarcerated men

“[M]any incarcerated young men missed [sex-ed] classroom lessons due to truancy or incarceration. Their lack of knowledge about sexual health puts them at a lifelong disadvantage. De La Cruz [a health educator] will guide [incarcerated youths] in lessons about anatomy and pregnancy, birth control and sexually transmitted infections. He also explores healthy relationships and the pitfalls of toxic masculinity. […] Workshops cover healthy relationships, gender and sexuality, and sex trafficking.”

4. Peru puts endemic fog oasis under protection

“Lomas are unique ecosystems relying on marine fog that host rare and endemic plants and animal species. […] The Peruvian government has formally granted conservation status to the 6,449-hectare (16,000-acre) desert oasis site[….] The site, the first of its kind to become protected after more than 15 years of scientific and advocacy efforts, will help scientists understand climatic and marine cycles in the area[, … and] will be protected for future research and exploration for at least three decades.”

5. Religious groups are protecting Pride events — upending the LGBTQ+ vs. faith narrative

“In some cases, de-escalation teams stand as a physical barrier between protesters and event attendees. In other instances, they try to talk with protesters. The goal is generally to keep everyone safe. Leigh was learning that sometimes this didn’t mean acting as security, but doing actual outreach. That might mean making time and space to listen to hate speech. It might mean offering food or water. […] After undergoing Zoom trainings this spring, the members of some 120 faith organizations will fan out across more than 50 Pride events in 16 states to de-escalate the actions of extremist anti-LGBTQ+ hate groups.”

6. 25 years of research shows how to restore damaged rainforest

“For the first time, results from 25 years of work to rehabilitate fire-damaged and heavily logged rainforest are now being presented. The study fills a knowledge gap about the long-term effects of restoration and may become an important guide for future efforts to restore damaged ecosystems.”

7. Audubon and Grassroots Carbon Announce First-of-its-Kind Partnership to Reward Landowners for Improving Habitats for Birds while Building Healthy Soils

“Participating landowners can profit from additional soil carbon storage created through their regenerative land management practices. These practices restore grasslands, improve bird habits, build soil health and drive nature-based soil organic carbon drawdown through the healthy soils of farms and ranches. […] Additionally, regenerative land management practices improve habitats for birds. […] This partnership exemplifies how sustainable practices can drive positive environmental change while providing tangible economic benefits for landowners.”

8. Circular food systems found to dramatically reduce greenhouse gas emissions, require much less agricultural land

“Redesigning the European food system will reduce agricultural land by 44% while dramatically reducing greenhouse gas emissions from agriculture by 70%. This reduction is possible with the current consumption of animal protein. “Moreover, animals are recyclers in the system. They can recycle nutrients from human-inedible parts of the organic waste and by-products in the food system and convert them to valuable animal products," Simon says.”

9. Could Treating Injured Raptors Help Lift a Population? Researchers found the work of rehabbers can have long-lasting benefits

“[“Wildlife professionals”] tend to have a dismissive attitude toward addressing individual animal welfare,” [… but f]or most raptor species, they found, birds released after rehabilitation were about as likely to survive as wild birds. Those released birds can have even broader impacts on the population. Back in the wild, the birds mate and breed, raising hatchlings that grow up to mate and breed, too. When the researchers modeled the effects, they found most species would see at least some population-level benefits from returning raptors to the wild.”

10. Indigenous people in the Amazon are helping to build bridges & save primates

“Working together, the Reconecta Project and the Waimiri-Atroari Indigenous people build bridges that connect the forest canopy over the BR-174 road[….] In the first 10 months of monitoring, eight different species were documented — not only monkeys such as the golden-handed tamarin and the common squirrel monkey (Saimiri sciureus), but also kinkajous (Potos flavus), mouse opossums (Marmosops sp.), and opossums (Didelphis sp.).”

Bonus: A rare maneless zebra was born in the UK

June 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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jihyoruri · 3 months ago

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ GIRL, SO CONFUSING kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is still at home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, guilt lots of it, backstory’s, chaewon being an instigator, not from yn’s perspective this time, mentions of ed & weight

what just happened?

the only words running through yunjin’s mind. she couldn’t keep her eyes off yn, who was trying her best to look fine, but yunjin saw right through it. had yn always looked like this?

she trailed behind the rest of the girls as they walked off the field toward the car yn had called for them.

the entire interaction between yn and her mother replayed in her mind like a broken record. she had never seen yn so tense before, yn was always so carefree, like nothing could ruin her mood. but her mother? her mother definitely did.

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

“right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

that’s what really got her. yn didn’t seem to notice, but yunjin had been watching her the entire time, through the whole interaction. it kind of scared her how quickly the hurt in yn’s eyes disappeared after her mom’s words. if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it entirely.

she had this ugly feeling in her stomach, it was brewing.

“we should get food.” kazuha said as they made their way into the expensive van followed by mumbles of agreement.

"I can have the cooks make something, and you guys can eat in the pool house," yn offered, her voice flat and lacking its usual energy. yunjin frowned, noticing how all day yn seemed to be doing everything she could to keep them from actually going inside her house.

she would take yn as the girl who would love to show off her big childhood home.

“ “you guys?” you’re not hungry?” kazuha asked looking at yn with concern.

“yeah I don’t really have an appetite.”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

yunjin's mind replayed yn's words and then her mothers even as the rest of the girls had moved on from the topic of food. she couldn’t shake it. now that she thought about it, yn never really ate much at the dorms...

that feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

yunjin wasn’t gonna lie and say she was yn’s biggest fan, but to be honest it wasn’t always like that, she never really had any problems with yn when they were preparing for debut it wasn’t until they actually debuted.

“YN OF LESSERAFIM BECOMES GLOBAL BRAND AMBASSADOR OF CHANEL JUST FIVE MONTHS AFTER DEBUT, IT’S REVEALED THAT THE IDOL WAS SEEN AS A MUSE.”

yunjin stared in disbelief at the headline on her phone. yn hadn’t even mentioned this to them. without a second thought, she turned to chaewon, shoving her phone in the leader’s face.

“oh yeah, i saw that earlier,” chaewon said nonchalantly after reading the screen. “that moon family money working overtime, huh?”

“huh?” yunjin blinked, confused. she knew the moon family was a big deal, but would they really pull strings for something like this? yn never talked about her family, much less anything like this.

chaewon smirked, turning her laptop toward yunjin. “i did some digging. chanel is practically a moon family staple.”

yunjin’s eyes widened as she scanned chaewon’s screen. it was filled with photos, yn’s father as a teenager in chanel, her grandfather in chanel, her mother draped in chanel, and even her brothers. But what stood out most were the photos of yn herself. the article showed pictures from her father's press conferences and paparazzi photos starting from when yn was a toddler all the way up to now. in every single one, she was dressed in chanel.

“she’s been wearing it her whole life,” yunjin murmured, piecing it all together.

“yup.” chaewon smiled impressed with herself, “I mean they’ve been wearing it for decades upon decades, why wouldn’t they want the first idol ever from the family to be an ambassador of the brand they love so much.”

yunjin took in chaewon’s words, “oh my…”

“I know right,”. chaewon smirked, “and isn’t it crazy that hybe told us they want us to do things as a group first? but yn is a chanel ambassador, she probably didn’t like the sound of that and pulled daddy into the equation.”

yunjin didn’t want to believe chaewon’s theories but that fact that yn didn’t even tell them about this made it all more believable.

that was practically the beginning of everything. every achievement yn had on her own left yunjin second guessing if it was real, or if it was just the perks of moon money.

yn was, undeniably, the most popular member of the group. she was loved, practically all of south korea had watched her grow up. she had an advantage.

yunjin didn’t like to admit it, but she resented yn a lot. maybe it was chaewon’s words getting to her, but it always seemed like yn never struggled the way the rest of them did. she was praised for everything. when the whole group went through a brutal wave of hate, yn came out of it untouched. it was unfair, her life was perfect.

but after witnessing that interaction, yunjin realized maybe yn’s life wasn’t so perfect after all. she wondered how yn hid it so well. or maybe she hadn’t maybe yunjin had just been too blinded by her resentment to notice.

families in power like the moons were known for not having the best environment, her parents would always bring it, they still did.

“you know when your members grandfather was the head of the family company, they once found yn’s father that was probably about your age passed out in the middle of the road? it was a really big scandal, but everyone forgot about it, I was younger when that happened probably the same age as him but ask your grandparents they’ll tell you all about it.”

“I remember a couple years ago I think your member yn like 12 and she passed out in front of everyone at a press conference, an insider said that the hospital said she hadn’t had any food in her system, again everyone forgot about that, the moon’s perfect image cannot be broken.”

“a couple years ago, maybe four years before you debuted, there was this conference that the whole moon family went to not just your member and her father, mother and siblings like everyone was there, and it was so scary to see, I still feel some type of worry when I see the photo but the whole family looked pale and sick, like they were on their death bed but they still talked and presented perfectly fine, it was so scary and concerning to people that now if you search up the words dead and alive the video and photos will pop up, I remember some people said they think the whole family is on drugs but then an insider said that hospital receives a person from the moon family almost everyday due to them overworking themselves, people don’t know how they’re still alive,”

the last story always sticks out to yunjin she brushed it off when she first heard it but it’s always in the back of her mind when she looks at yn.

because there has been times where yn in the mornings she’d take notice of a hospital bracelet on yn’s wrist, she doesn’t know why she brushed it off but she did.

the feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

all the girls were comfortably lounging in the pool house. there was a tv, so they picked a show to watch

yunjin turned to chaewon, who was sitting beside her. “um, I have a question.”

“yeah?”

“yn’s interaction with her mom was weird, right? like, the weight comment?”

chaewon stared blankly at yunjin. “yeah, it was kind of weird, but that was probably just an off day. it’s normal for moms to mention stuff like that sometimes.”

“but you and I both know yn’s weight is perfectly fine, and it’s not just that and that comment yn said to you about her perfect life after and she seemed so tense, and some of the things her mom said were kind of—”

“okay, yunjin, what is going on? since when did you care about the moon family? they’re a perfectly fine family with all the money and power in the world. if they’re going through a rough patch, they’ll be fine and that comment was just her trying to get under my skin.”

the stories her parents brought up rushed back to her, this didn’t seem like a rough patch this seemed like a lifestyle.

yunjin took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go see where the food is. yn said she was checking on it, but she hasn’t come back.”

“try not to get lost!” chaewon joked.

yunjin couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size of the moons’ house. this was yn’s childhood home? it was massive, she could definitely get lost here. she was about to turn back, thinking there was no way she’d actually find yn, when she heard her voice. it sounded tense, distressed.

following the sound, she crept closer, the voice leading her toward the kitchen. peering around the wall, she spotted yn, on her knees with her face in her hands, talking to jia, one of the household staff yunjin vaguely remembered.

“and then she brought up my weight again, right in front of everyone,” yn’s voice shook, barely keeping control. “she humiliated me!” she sounded desperate.

yunjin’s eyes widened as she watched yn stand abruptly, snatch a glass from a silver platter meant for the group, and hurl it to the ground, the shatter echoing through the kitchen. jia looked at her with a sad, understanding expression, as if she’d witnessed this scene far too many times.

“jia, I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough!” yn’s voice cracked, full of pain. “she planned this whole family lunch without me to celebrate achievements when I’m probably one of the most achieved person in this family as of right now, and now they’re all out shopping together!”

yunjin’s stomach twisted as she watched yn pace, her movements frantic.

“I’ve basically killed myself for that woman. I’ve been starving myself since I was ten ten, jia! I’ve done everything I possibly could just to make her love me, and she just… doesn’t. I’d do anything, anything for her, and it’s never enough.”

yunjin felt frozen, like she’d intruded on something far too personal, but she couldn’t look away. she’d never seen yn like this, stripped raw, unraveling at the seams.

“your mother loves you, miss yn,” jia murmured, reaching out gently. “have some tea, and I’ll bring the food out for your friends.”

“I don’t want tea!” yn shouted, her voice breaking. “and they aren’t my friends! they shouldn’t even be here!” she paused, her face twisting in pain. “she hates me, my own mother hates me, ever since that day.”

“that day wasn’t your fault, yn.”

“but it is! I was trying so hard to please her, and I did the exact opposite. I passed out in front of everyone important to her and dad . I embarrassed the family.” her words were choked, each one like she was tearing herself apart from the inside out.

yunjin’s heart sank. she knew exactly what yn was talking about, a story her own parents had once mentioned in passing.

“that was out of your control, yn. you were just a child.”

the scariest part was that yn wasn’t even crying. she was breaking down, but the tears never came. it was like she’d numbed herself.

yn never cried is something yunjin was starting to take notice of.

“no one is a child in this family jia, we both know that.”

yunjin was so transfixed that she didn’t even notice when jia’s gaze shifted, her eyes widening in alarm. yn turned around, following her gaze, only to meet yunjin’s shocked stare.

“what are you doing in here?”

yunjin flinched as she looked up to see yn walking toward her, fury blazing in her eyes. “I–”

“you shouldn’t be in here. is anyone else in here?”

“no, I was just wondering about the food.” yunjin’s heart was racing, she’d never seen yn like this before. “what’s the problem with me being in here? I don’t see the big deal,” she mumbled.

“because this is my home!” yn’s voice was sharp, rising as she shrugged off jia, who tried to calm her. “I don’t need you guys invading my safe space! do you hate me that much? that you can’t even let me have one place to escape from all of you?”

the feeling in yunjin’s stomach twisted painfully.

“wha–yn, hold on–” yunjin stammered.

“what?! am I being dramatic? I don’t care anymore!” yn’s voice cracked with rage and hurt. “did chaewon set you up to snoop on me? is that what this is? how much did you see?”

yunjin stayed silent.

“where’s all that talk you usually have? I asked how much did you see!”

“a lot…” yunjin admitted quietly.

“of course you did.” yn shook her head, her expression twisted with betrayal. “no one respects my wishes. I told you all to stay outside, to stay out of my space.”

she let out a bitter laugh, venom in every word. “just my luck. I’d tell you to go back to new york and live on the rat infested streets where you belong, but that’d just give you another reason to make my life miserable.”

anger surged through yunjin anger at herself. she felt the crushing weight of yn’s words, the realization of just how deeply she’d hurt her. yn needed a safe space from them. from her. and now, because of yunjin’s carelessness, yn was unraveling.

guilt clawed at her, twisting her insides until she felt nauseous. that feeling in her stomach… it was overwhelming.

unable to hold it back, yunjin looked up, her gaze pleading as she met jia’s concerned eyes. “is there a washroom nearby?”

“right beside you,” jia said softly, pointing.

yunjin turned and stumbled toward the door, barely making it inside before collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet. she let everything out, her stomach churning, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn’t control. the weight of her guilt, her shame, everything she’d ignored and avoided, now pouring out in raw, painful waves.

she lifted her head from the toilet and turned to see yn and jia standing at the door with unreadable expressions.

“I’m so sorry.”

#richgirl!yn #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim #yunjin #huh yunjin #yunjin x reader #yunjin lesserafim #chaewon #kim chaewon #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #girl group imagines

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rose-morose · 2 months ago

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ok we need to have a chat about Kit from Jentry Chau vs the Underworld

(as per usual long spoilers under the cut)

he is a great character, but you all are misunderstanding the point behind his reveal to Jentry as a painted skin

the show finally gives us the dignity to be accepting of a person for being different right out of the gate, like Jentry was surprised by Kit's true appearance, but not unaccepting

whereas other shows often like to give us the whole *you wouldn't like me because I'm different no I would I swear never mind you were right I don't like you anymore* Jentry Chau vs the Underworld gives Jentry a good reason for why she doesn't accept Kit

Jentry later explains herself very clearly to Kit and why she doesn't trust him, it's because he manipulated her, seduced her, tried to kill her, and did the one thing that everyone else does to her, the thing she hates most, he tried to use her to get what he wants

she can't trust that his feelings for her are real, and it's not just because he is a demon and his book entry says "can't feel emotion" or whatever, she has been given good reason to believe that the book is right and she shouldn't trust him, not because he was lying about being a demon, but because he tried to kill her at the orders of the man that she believed had murdered her parents, because he had planted a pearl on her that manipulated her desire to see her parents to lead her into a trap, because he had spied on her and pretended to also be into the things she likes just to get close enough to kill her, and his reasons for doing all of that were entirely selfish, he planned on trading her soul for a soul of his very own

Jentry eventually forgives Kit, but not because she has reconciled that he is a demon, she realizes that Kit is just like her, his manipulation wasn't his own plan, he is a pawn in someone else's game, like her he is being used by another party to get what they want, and like her he wants out

this prompts her to come up with a plan to get them both out of the game, if Jentry can transfer the powers that Flora and Cheng are fighting over from her to something else, then theoretically Flora would no longer need Jentry, and Cheng would no longer need Kit in order to get close to Jentry

she enlists Kit's help to achieve this objective, and it works (temporarily), freeing Jentry and Kit from the rivalry that they both wanted no part of

Kit then takes this opportunity to try and form a romantic relationship with Jentry, but she declines citing a need for "normalcy"

again, not because she doesn't accept him as a person, Jentry is doing everything she can to put her supernatural past behind her whether it's Cheng, the mogui, her gugu, her parents, her powers, Diyu, or ghosts, but she is content keeping friends around like Ed and Kit

and it's worth mentioning that Jentry noticed Kit's desire to be with her was entirely selfish and self serving, he wanted his own happiness no matter the cost, even if it meant stealing from Jentry, and his behavior around her was hardly rational, stalking her, smashing lockers, scaring her, he wasn't exactly trying to formulate a healthy relationship

she is later upset with Kit for breaking her trust once again, and stealing from her to achieve the same selfish goal as before

but Kit finds redemption in the end, not redemption for being a demon, redemption for being selfish, and he does this by sacrificing himself to save Jentry's life, something from which he had nothing to gain, and even admits what Jentry suspected, that his wanting to be with her was selfish, but he proved that he could be selfless and put others first

people are saying he got done dirty, but it was that sacrifice that made him not only a good person, but a good character that was capable of growing and evolving, and his absence from the rest of the show, suggesting that his death may have been permanent, made his sacrifice all the more meaningful

Jentry is hardly perfect, but she isn't the monster some have accused her of being

why wouldn't Jentry be accepting of a demon? Ed was a jiangshi, an undead demonic creature from Diyu that consumes qi much in the same way that the painted skin demon would, and he was one of her best friends

she saw the nü gui as a non-malicious friend to Ed, considered her gugu's ghosts to be helpful and nice, helped a dangerous little girl to return to the afterlife, didn't run off when she learned about Michael's powers, regarded niu tou and ma mian as non-evil forces just doing their job, considered Kit a friend after forgiving him, and helped Zhong Kui capture law breaking ghosts

she was constantly accepting of any super natural entity that wasn't a total dick, why would this be any different?

now I love Kit, and if there is a season 2, and I hope to god there is, I would love to see him return as well, but you gotta stop ragging on Jentry for just being rational, there are much better reasons why someone would be upset with her, but I just can't see the unaccepting angle

#jentry chau vs the underworld #jcvtu #jentry chau spoilers #jentry vs the underworld #spoilers #jcvtu jentry #jcvtu kit #jcvtu spoilers #rose rambles

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scoops-aboy86 · 30 days ago

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So Hurry Down the Chimney Tonight

Prompt: Time (@steddiemicrofic) | wc: 485 | Rating: T | CW: none | Additional Tags: Steve’s parents are nowhere to be seen, Uncle Wayne works on Christmas, gay Eddie Munson, bisexual Steve Harrington

“Soooo,” Eddie drags out, still not sure what he’s doing in Steve’s living room. Sharing this uncomfortable designer couch and cold bottles of expensive beer. On Christmas Eve, with a big ol’ fire roaring merrily away and no one else as a buffer because they’re the only ones they know without plans tonight.

They’ve already exhausted what little they have in common to talk about. Eddie isn’t sure, but this is probably the sort of time when straight buddies talk about girls.

“How are things with Nancy?” he tries, ignoring the usual twinge of jealousy.

Steve sighs, settling his beer on one knee. “I’m gonna stop you right there, dude.”

Oh. Well. Eddie fiddles with his own bottle and tries to cover his awkwardness with a sip.

“Nancy and I broke up because she called me and our relationship bullshit,” Steve continues bluntly, nearly causing Eddie to choke on his beer. “Yeah she was drunk, but afterwards she couldn’t even say she loved me. Then she slept with Jonathan before we officially broke up. We’re friends now, but she broke my fucking heart. No way I’m going back down that road.”

“Oh,” Eddie says in a strangled voice.

“Sorry,” Steve adds with an apologetic shrug as he slouches back into the cushions. “It’s just, Dustin is always on me like a dog with a bone about Robin and that’s bad enough. I really don’t need that about Nance, too.”

“I get it,” Eddie mumbles. He doesn’t—hasn’t dated at all because it’s Hawkins—but he can imagine. “Consider the subject dropped.”

Picking at the label on his beer again, Eddie feels both indignant on Steve’s behalf and chastised for poking at a sore spot he hadn’t realized was there.

To his surprise, Steve chuckles. “You don’t have to totally drop it. There’s… someone. I just figured it’d save some time if you know it’s not my ex.”

Great, another girl to be pointlessly jealous of. But Eddie wants to be a good friend, so he schools his expression into something neutral. “Cool. So how’s that going?”

“Could be better. I invited them over for Christmas Eve—”

Eddie sits bolt upright. “But that’s today,” he blurts dumbly. Then, with disbelief, “She didn’t show and you settled for calling me?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. No, he’s just taking a godawful long time to take the hint.”

Again, straight to the point.

“I thought it was so neither of us had to be alone on Christmas Eve,” Eddie replies weakly. This time he gets an eye roll. “… Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Steve sits up, sets his beer aside, scoots closer until their thighs touch. “I like you, Eds. And you’re into me, right?”

Eddie’s face is on fire, but he opts to follow Steve’s lead and be blunt. “… Yes.”

And come Christmas Day, when Wayne wakes up from his long post-shift nap, Eddie introduces him to his first boyfriend.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @hickeysgodcomplex @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie microfic #scoops words #steddie christmas fic

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tswiftupdatess · 5 months ago

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taylorswift: In summation We have officially wrapped the European leg of The Eras Tour. With it came the most passionate crowds I’ve ever played for, new traditions in the show, and an entirely new era added in. It was a more hectic pace than we’d done before, and I’m so proud of my crew/fellow performers for being able to physically perform that show and build our massive stage, take it apart, and make magic with so few days in between for recovery and travel. They’re the most impressive people I know and I’m so lucky they gave The Eras Tour their time, their energy, and their expertise. Walking onstage in London was a rollercoaster of emotions. Having our Vienna shows cancelled was devastating. The reason for the cancellations filled me with a new sense of fear, and a tremendous amount of guilt because so many people had planned on coming to those shows. But I was also so grateful to the authorities because thanks to them, we were grieving concerts and not lives. I was heartened by the love and unity I saw in the fans who banded together. I decided that all of my energy had to go toward helping to protect the nearly half a million people I had coming to see the shows in London. My team and I worked hand in hand with stadium staff and British authorities every day in pursuit of that goal, and I want to thank them for everything they did for us. Let me be very clear: I am not going to speak about something publicly if I think doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who come to my shows. In cases like this one, ‘silence’ is actually showing restraint, and waiting to express yourself at a time when it’s right to. My priority was finishing our European tour safely, and it is with great relief that I can say we did that. And then London felt like a beautiful dream sequence. All five crowds at Wembley Stadium were bursting with passion, joy, and exuberance. The energy in that stadium was like the most giant bear hug from 92,000 people each night, and it brought me back to a place of carefree calm up there.

We had some EPIC surprise performances from my long time friends teddysphotos, florenceandthemachine, and jackantonoff. Performing ‘Florida!!!’ with Flo for the first time was unforgettable and Ed took me right back to our old Red Tour memories. It was the most dizzying honor to become the first solo artist to play Wembley 8 times in one tour. To the fans who have seen us this summer, you’ll always have the most sparkling place in my memories. You were a dream to perform for, dance with, and share those magical moments with. We’ll see you all again when we resume The Eras Tour in October, but for now we get to take a much needed rest. Thank you for the adventure of a lifetime. May it continue… 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤🩷🩶🤎💙🤍

(August 21, 2024)

#taylor swift #the eras tour #instagram #august 21 #taylorswift #the eras tour europe #the eras tour london

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philippeauguste · 1 year ago

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Stede takes Ed’s death with so much dignity. He’s usually very expressive, dramatic in the way he shows his emotions.

But when he sees Edward’s “dead” body, we can see the quiet hurt and grief and pain.

When he goes to see the Revenge’s crew in their jail, to confront them, he doesn’t cry or yell. Stede is probably in an incredible amount of pain there, after all, he missed Ed by days. And he feels responsible for his state of mind. But you can also see that he understand that the crew didn’t have a choice anymore.

Then he breaks them out to save them. Acting like a true captain. Doing the right thing. Saving the very people who killed (so he thinks) the man he loved.

There’s so much growth here. Stede takes on the role of leader naturally for the first time. He actually divides a good plan and it works.

Then he goes to see Ed’s body and start to crumble when there’s no one to see him. It’s beautiful.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede #blackbeard #ofmd 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ofmd 2 spoilers #emotional maturity #is that you?

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rhaeheartzsquirrelz · 14 days ago

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She’ll be There

Sevika x Female Reader

Headcannons || Angst + Fluff

Cw: Mentions of self-harm (not fully described, I know it can be triggering), self sabotage, and mentions of binge eating disorder. Modern setting. Sevika has both arms (though it doesn’t have anything to do with the plot). Not a lot of in depth details, only because I didn’t want it to be uncomfortable or triggering.

Proofread || Note: It surprised me when I noticed there’s barely any recognition of binge eating disorder. And, so, I decided to write about it. Really sucks that a lot of people don’t even know that it exists. Also, no, I am NOT romanticizing sh and ed, this is just for readers who find comfort in these kinds of fanfics; ones who relate. (Also because I struggle with it.)

Sevika was one of those girlfriends who made you question if you really deserved her. One of those girlfriends that made you so happy that you were sure that all of it was all some sort of dream. She took care of you when you weren’t well. When you needed comfort and support. She was there regardless. You were a priority much greater than anything else, she loved you more than anything else.

But, there was always a sense of guilt that tugged at you whenever she showed affection. It was unfair to her that she had to do so much compared to other couples. It was like being a burden, a broken tool that wouldn’t fix. A tool that had to patched up daily, made sure it didn’t break itself again. You were sure she’d get tired.

But that day never came.

A healthy relationship with food was what you strived for. What you could only try your best for. Not even a few minutes after eating you were hungry again. Well, you weren’t actually hungry. Your stomach was half full and you weren’t needing more. It was just you being bored and eating being a way for you to comfort yourself. It was a coping mechanism that you’d picked up at a young age; and never noticed how horrible it was for you.

Sevika was aware of your problem, of the issues you had with food, and how it was difficult it was for you not to turn to food for distraction.

When you were upset, you’d grab yourself a plate of leftovers. When you were angry, you’d have a bowl of chips in your lap and munch on it. Even when you were happy, you’d make yourself some pasta. And, undoubtedly, your girlfriend was worried with the amount of food you’d eat in such a short amount of time.

Gradually, she decided to do something about it. Convincing you to tag along with her whenever she went out, making plans to go to your favourite bookstore, and even taking you shopping. She tried her hardest to distract you.

Sevika didn’t know much about your eating disorder, but she did her research. Reading books, searching online, and even asking you your struggle.

She’d ask you how you felt about the whole thing. What you thought. How you felt when you didn’t indulge in the urge and it felt after you ate. Your girlfriend had a lot of questions and you did your best at answering them. Some of them were ones you’d never thought of asking yourself, they had you thinking. And you appreciated her efforts in understanding.

Sevika would even cook your favourite food whenever you were genuinely hungry. She’d go on youtube and learn recipes for you, even make desserts so she knew you were full. Most of her attention would be on you, making sure your body was satisfied with your intake.

There was never a time where you felt that your girlfriend was tired of the extra care she gave you. In all honesty, that woman loved all of it. Doing small things for you, like making sure the proportions she prepared for you were perfect, like making sure your plate was full of the essentials; carbs, fibers, fats, all those good things.

And, at first, Sevika thought she’d made progress, made you better. But, on the day she found you in the bathroom with your wrists red was the day she assumed the worse. She thought, maybe, she’d made you feel a sort of way. Thought she’d made it worse. Thought she’d hurt your feelings and had pressured you.

She wrong about all those things.

Your girlfriend blamed herself for everything, as she tended to. You’d reassured her many times that it wasn’t her fault, that it was just the way you were born— also, false.

“Sev, I’m serious. It’s not your fault, it never was. You’re fixing something that can’t be fixed.” You’d say, sat next to her and watching as she only looked away. “Did I make you feel pressured? Or was it just me being obsessed with helping you? Be honest. I can take it.” Obsessed, huh?

“No. The things you’ve done for me are just.. too nice. You’ve helped me, Sevika, not made it worse.” She’d end up furrowing her brows. “So then, why’d you do that? Hurt yourself, I mean.” Her silver eyes would avoid your arms at an attempt to think positively. “I just.. it’s me. I’m a little frustrated at myself, it’s nothing.” Your girlfriend wouldn’t meet your eyes, let alone face you.

“Can you not?” Your tone a little less gentle. “You won’t even look at me.” Only because Sevika didn’t want to stare, make you feel uncomfortable. “All I’m asking is that you don’t look at me any differently. Please?”

It took time and patience for the woman to acknowledge your scars. She thought the subject was too tense, too awkward. But the first time she did, you ended up opening yourself to her. Letting her in on the small details she’d never thought you’d feel.

That was step one. Step two was helping you in other ways. Sevika would give you suggestions, instead of telling you what to do. Give you space and time to think by yourself. Give you advice and even be a source for you to talk about it with. All she wanted was for you to trust her, turn to her, and let her comfort you— instead of you having to look for that in other things.

Over time, Sevika had stopped avoiding confrontation; only when the topic wasn’t sensitive. She’d ask you if you felt any urges, if you’d even tried doing it again. And, slowly, you began saying no. It wasn’t a lie, no, you’d just stopped thinking about it.

And when she noticed that, your girlfriend felt a sense relief she’d never felt before. She was glad she could do something, even if it was just sharing her ideas and being your safe place.

Sevika loved you, she’d made that quite obvious in the way she stuck by your side. Never had she felt frustration, or annoyance towards you for being in the dark place you used to be in. All she felt was the need to keep you out of there, keep you in the light where you were happy and safe.

Your girlfriend would stay with you for hours if you needed her to. If you were crying she’d cry with you. If you needed her attention she’d give it to you at an instant. If you needed her to just hold you she’d do so. She’d open her arms for you, kiss away your pain, and talk away your problems.

All Sevika needed was for you to be alright.

A/N: Pleaseeee please pleaseee! let me know if something I wrote was incorrect or just insensitive, I really don’t want anyone to feel a type of way when they read this; being upset or angry. I tried my hardest to write how I, personally, feel because I know a lot of people might feel the same way— relate. Hopefully I didn’t do anything wrong :(

Please reach out to someone you know and trust if you are feeling stuck and are struggling with an eating disorder or self-harm. I promise you it’ll only get worse without help and support.

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

Text

whiplash- o.piastri

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.

pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!

(HOLY SHIT THEY WON THE CONSTRUCTORS!!!!!!!)

(dw i have many fics planned for the end of season stuff, so be prepared for them to come out in the next week or so!)

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Recovery after the crash was pretty straight forward, no bright lights, too much screen time, or loud noise for 2 weeks, and thankfully, you had a month off.

Only problem? Someone had to take care of you for those two weeks, and that someone was Oscar Piastri.

And what a roommate he was. He unloaded your things from the car as you unlocked the door to your house, letting him in, and he didn’t let you carry a thing. He sent you straight to bed while he made some sort of bland, diet-approved dinner for the two of you and brought it up to you with very little speaking. You enjoyed it though, listening to some random youtube video at a very low volume, and then you just slept, despite the pounding headache you had.

Oscar stayed downstairs, looking around the place. You had a lot of books, which he realised made a lot of sense. You were often reading on race weekends. You had a lot of artwork as well, mostly from what he assumed to be local artists in Monaco, and some from your home country. He walked through room after room, finding more about you as he went on. You liked a specific band, you collected records, you liked stationary (you had a lot of extras in your office), you had two of the same pairs of sunglasses (he assumed it was because you often lost them), you had very few pictures of yourself with friends, but many of just your friends, you had nothing to do with racing anywhere in your home. The only room that had anything remotely racing related was your simulator room, which just had your sim and some team merch you’d been given. He wondered where you kept all of your suits and helmets from other years, where you kept the trophies.

“You’re snooping,” you said from behind him. He jumped, turning to you. The whole house felt so suffocatingly you. You were around each corner, things that reminded him of you were everywhere. It wasn’t easy, like in the garage. He was out of his comfort zone , out of his routine. His plan had been to go home for the break, but now he was taking care of the pretty girl he spoke to over the radio. The bottom line was that he was scared. He was scared he wouldn’t get over the crush, he was scared you’d reject him, and he was scared of his feelings being too obvious and scaring you away. He couldn’t let his months of hard work go to waste over something as silly as his feelings, and he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry without support, half way through the season with a team who didn’t like you. You did look quite cute though, even in the dim light (he’d gone around and closed all of the curtains in the house, only allowing a small amount of light in), tired and groggy, but pretty all the same.

“Just trying to find my bearings,” he smiled. “Did you sleep?”

You nodded. “I’ll show you the guest room,” you said, leaving the doorway and walking away. He followed behind. The conversation didn’t flow as easily as it had before. Oscar felt… surrounded. By you. And he wasn’t sure he was totally upset by it. Everything in this house was you. It made sense, it was your house. He just wasn't… used to it. He followed behind you, staring at the ground as you both walked up the stairs.

“You don’t keep any racing stuff in the house,” he stated.

You shrugged. “Why should I?”

“It’s your passion?” he suggested.

You just stayed silent. “This is your room. There’s a bathroom connected, so if you need anything, just tell me. You have free reign of the house, just obviously not my bedroom… so yeah.”

He nodded. “Thank you, do you need anything for your head?”

You shook your head. “Sleep.”

He nodded. “Text me if you need anything-”

“No screens,” you reminded him. He frowned.

You couldn’t shout, and neither could he, neither of you could text, but you had to communicate somehow. He had an idea. “I have an idea,” he said.

You stared at him expectantly.

“Walkie talkies.”

And you laughed. You genuinely, unashamedly, fully, laughed. And it was a sound he would do anything to hear again. The tension broke. The house didn’t feel as suffocating as it once had, and it felt as easy as being in the garage. He felt himself smile, smiling at you. He liked seeing you smile, the kind of smile that showed your teeth, that made your nose scrunch, that made him see the small glimpse of you.

Not the racer, not the fighter, not the victor. You.

“That works,” you nodded, the smile still on your lips. You looked down for a moment. “Thank you for taking care of me, Oscar. It means a lot. No one’s ever… done this for me.”

He frowned despite himself and cursed himself when he saw that you noticed. “I’m happy to be here. I’m happy that I get to make sure you’re ok.”

You offered him a sad smile, and left him to ‘find his bearings’ in his room. He huffed as he sat on the bed, looking around the room. There was a vanity with a mirror (we wouldn’t use it, but maybe he'd put the sunscreen his sister had been bugging him to use there, just to see if he’d remember to use it in the mornings), aa bed (a king bed, which he was very happy with), bedside tables with some random lights, a wardrobe, a mirror, white walls, hardwood floors, and a big window seat. He looked out into the garden, and it was green. Plants, fruits, vegetables, everything. So that was your hobby. Gardening.

He chuckled. You were full of surprises. He wanted to figure every last one of them out.

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The next few days went quickly, mostly you two were on different schedules. Oscar was working during the way (no rest for any McLaren employee, especially not when you were P2 in the standings), while you slept and stayed up during the night. You went into the garden, caring for your plants all night long, reheated leftovers from Oscar (he was a surprisingly good cook), and listened to podcasts and music (at a low volume).

That all changed when he found you in the garden at 2am, soft music playing as you collected plums from your trees, he smiled.

“Busy?” he called out. You shook your head, placing them in the basket. “I didn’t realise you were such a gardener.”

“It’s peaceful,” you admitted. “Slow.”

“A racecar driver likes going slowly?” he questioned. You rolled your eyes, sitting beside him on the bench.

“Not all of us are the same on and off track, alright?”

He chuckled. “Fine, you got me there,” he admitted, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “What else does F1 driver Y/n Y/l/n like to do?”

And the air shifted for some inexplicable reason. He was too close to you, too personal, too… something. You felt everything tenfold, every hair on the back of your neck standing to full attention. He didn’t mean to make it sound flirty, surely. You told yourself.

He wasn’t even sure of that himself.

“I like dancing,” you answered, your voice soft and small, softer than he’d ever heard you. “When I was a kid I was a dancer. I gave it up for racing, but I still enjoy it.”

He swore he was the one with whiplash. You were so hot and cold. One minute you were telling him about you childhood dreams, the next you were screaming at him over the radio to go fuck himself. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “What about you?”

“I like to spend time with my family,” he admitted. “But you know that.”

You smiled, a small, shy smile, but a smile all the same (aka, he counted it as a win). “They seem fun.”

“They are,” he nodded, smiling brightly. “They’re crazy but I love them.”

“When they come to a race, I’d like to meet them,” you expressed. He stared at you for a moment. He really took you in, sitting there with your legs up against your chest looking nothing like the strong racecar driver you’d made him think was your only personality. He thanked his lucky stars that he got to see you like this. Laid back, shy, reserved, perfect, you.

“I’d like that,” he smiled.

“Me too.”

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He woke up one night (after 4 whole days of radio silence from the last night you’d spoken) to music playing in the living room. He silently crept downstairs as the smooth voices of Frank Sinatra and Nancy Sinatra filled his ears. There you stood, swaying in your living room in your pjs as you ate your food. Your hair was down, your eyes were closed, your body just swayed. You looked so… free. Sometimes, he forgot you were only 22 (only a year younger than him, but whatever). You didn’t have regular friends that you could just talk to, you had colleagues who worked for the same team as you. You had no family support, you were effectively alone.

But you had him, and he reminded himself of that as he sat on the last step, watching you truly let go.

“You should join me,” you said, eyes closed, but still noticing his presence. “Dancing is good for your health.”

“Is it now?” he smirked, getting up and joining you, despite the nerves in his stomach.

You nodded, wrapping an arm around his neck, your eyes still firmly closed. “It’s physical exercise.”

He nodded, placing his hands on your waist. He leaned as close as he could to your face, studying every detail he could. Every freckle, every crinkle of your eyes, every acne scar, all of it. And he thought you were perfect.

Your eyes opened, and you had a small smile on your lips, standing on his feet as he swayed you both. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re worth staring at,” he admitted.

“Smooth,” you chuckled. Again, whiplash.

You laid your head against his chest, letting him take the lead for a few moments. “Oscar?”

He hummed.

“Thank you for being my friend. I’ve never had one of those before. It’s really nice.”

As much as your confession broke his heart, he was glad he could be your friend, even if he hoped he could be something more.

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Zandvoort rolled around, and the garage was buzzing. You were catching Max, only 30 points between the two of you, as the title fight truly began. The RB20 was falling back, and you were only getting quicker. 5 wins under your belt. Monaco, Canada, Austria, UK, Hungary. You were a winner, and a podium anywhere else. Lando was only falling further behind, as the team shifted their focus to you. You got more attention, more praise, more weight on your shoulders. More people came to you, treated you with respect, acted differently.

It was a lot. You were overwhelmed.

But Oscar stayed the same. Always the voice of reason, the voice of calm in the storm that was F1. He was calm over the radio, celebrating with you when you crossed the line first.

You’d won on max’s home turf. That was truly something.

“You’ll go on the podium with me, right?”you asked as you crossed the line.

He smiled in the garage, blushing slightly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

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“Something worth celebrating!” Zak cheered as he entered the garage.

You were soaked in champagne, but happy all the same. It had been a hard season, but you were trudging on and continuing, looking forward to the things on the horizon. You were the woman with the highest points scored, ever. You had multiple wins in a row. You were in the title fight. You were a rookie.

“Something to be proud of,” Oscar nudged your arm, smiling as he sat beside you in the debriefing room. You offered him a soft smile.

“Thanks Osc,” you answered, unaware of the way you’d made his heart beat far too fast for something as simple as a nickname.

“Stop eye-fucking each other,” Lando scoffed.

“Stop trying to fuck her races up, then come back to me,” Oscar shot back. Lando did have some sort of love for fucking up your races (cough cough Belgium cough cough).

Lando shut up.

It was nice to have someone in your corner.

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