#sorry for the delay in posting!!!

[totalswagisland]

this stupid ass meme redraw. maybe someday ill draw normal ship art but not today

[spikershoyo]

loving machine | oscar piastri x reader, ex!lando norris x ex!reader | smut, angst | minors DNI!

warnings, tags, and notes: smut, angst, hurt no comfort, rebound oscar, no use of (Y/N), I love lando but he's a massive dick in this, implied Magui (ew), oral sex (fem receiving), pussy-drunk oscar, fingering, breath play (fem towards masc), unprotected P in V (wrap before you tap, kids!), reader denies oscar a creampie lol, time skips throughout the fic, wrote this with a tragic Christmas vibe in mind, mentions of drinking and being drunk, oscar just wants to love someone, inspired by 'loving machine' by tv girl, this came to me randomly and now we're here, enjoy! <3

Breakups are never easy. Especially when it comes to breaking up with Lando Norris. He's a sweetheart all around and maybe one of the kindest people you've ever met, but when he gets angry he can become one of the meanest and cruelest people out there.

You both didn't love each other like you expected. It should have been a mutual understanding, things simply fizzled out and didn't work, but Lando firmly believed you were the gift that kept on giving.

And that made a wound bloom between you two. Lando demanded to know why you didn't love him anymore when he wasn't giving you a reason to continue. When free, he'd come home late, sometimes alone, sometimes with Max in tow, usually tipsy. His best friend would give you a blank stare and what you thought was a sorry smile.

Lando doesn't speak to you anymore. And you're finally relieved. There isn't much more that you could have done to keep that relationship alive.

You're at the doctor's office today, a dreary Tuesday morning in London. You've had sporadic headaches that felt more like migraines than anything. You've waited almost a week for your appointment. Doesn't matter, you're here now.

The artificial light in the waiting room makes your eyes water and your temple ache, feeling just as terrible. You'll get the pills and it will go away. It always does. You decide to close your eyes and rest for a bit.

Time feels like molasses behind your eyes, the darkness comforting but shaky. You feel a bit nauseous. And then someone calls out your name.

You open your eyes, expecting to see an assistant with their name list and beckoning you inside. But instead, you're met with soft brown eyes and a familiar face. You blink once, then twice. "Oscar?" You croak out, not expecting your voice to be as rough as it sounds.

The Aussie gives you a shy smile, familiar with how you and Lando left things. It feels a bit illegal to Oscar to see you and not Lando by your side. "Hi," He says softly, his tone hesitant, as if approaching a wild, scared animal. "Didn't, um, expect to see you here."

"At the doctor's office?" You ask him, a bit annoyed at his question. Oscar blinks a few times, quickly, and shakes his head. "No! No, uh, in London. You know," But you don't really know. It's just a filler. "Isn't Silverstone an hour's drive from here?"

Oscar looks down at you, still standing still in front of your feet, less than a foot away from you. He looks you over, really looks, and shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Well, yeah. I've been having some aches in my knee, my trainer told me to go here."

It sounds strange, but you shouldn't care which doctor Oscar goes to. You shouldn't care if Lando goes to this doctor, too, when he's in London. "Oh, sorry to hear that." He shakes his head in a silent, "Don't worry."

You look up at him and the seat, a small offer. And Oscar complies. He sits next to you and fidgets a bit. You don't look at him, nor do either of you speak much. Time drags on a bit and you each wait for your appointments to end, two prescription bottles in each of your hands.

"Are you doing anything now?" Oscar asks you before you reach for the door handle of the waiting room. You're stunned at his question. What would Oscar Piastri want to do with you? And yet, you entertain the idea, a small flutter in your stomach.

A nagging feeling tells you no, but your pettiness and need are screaming yes!

Blonde and blue flash before your eyes and you remember the times you'd spent scrolling through Instagram handles, looking at Lando's posts, F1 gossip blogs, the pretty smile that haunted your dreams every other night.

Jealousy is a disgusting feeling.

Oscar watches the cogs turn in your head, the offer open until you speak. His eyes travel to your hands, gripping the door handle tightly. Regard her with interest. Let her know she's being heard. Always be polite. Those are all tricks his uncle had once told him at some old Christmas party, giving a 15-year-old Oscar a 101 on flirting.

And when you slightly move, his eyes are back on you. Oscar smiles when you shake your head. A shy smile, somewhat pink in the cheeks. Flames lick in the inside of his stomach. "Can I interest you in some tea then?"

You look up at him and nod. "Yes."

Oscar realizes that he'd much rather have you sink on his cock than win any Grand Prix. It's a crazy thought, the hunger for winning dissipating when you moan in his ear, gripping onto his shoulders with intense need.

He selfishly thinks that he can fuck you better than Lando.

Tea is on the table, the steam gone from the two mugs on the small coffee table in Oscar's hotel room. Instead, he's kissing you on the couch, gentle and giddy.

Your panties are discarded in a pile of clothes along with his boxers. Oscar bounces you steadily on his dick, quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of you. Your hands slide up from his shoulders, settling on his neck, squeezing a bit. Oscar's eyes gloss over and he chuckles breathlessly.

"You're so pretty," He groans, his hands gripping your waist as he moves you a bit faster. Your eyes flutter closed as you moan, gasping when he hits deeply in you. "Oh, Oscar!" You cry out, pleasure wracking over your entire being.

You hope Lando hears you through the hotel walls.

I don't want anything serious.

The words suddenly echo in Oscar's mind as he's holding the Hungary trophy. He remembers the text you had sent him after Silverstone. Still high off his first win, as shitty as it had been.

He gulps and looks at his teammate. Lando was stormy-faced for various reasons. Still, his eyes blur when he stares for too long.

Oscar knows that Lando knows. He'd seen you leave Oscar's hotel room back when they were in the UK. He remembers how Lando's lips parted, ocean-green eyes widening a bit as if he'd seen a ghost.

And Oscar had also seen the satisfaction in your eyes, he knew you weren't good for him, not in the long run. You were just fun. Oscar could use a bit of fun in his life.

And yet, when he sees you again, this time standing in front of your London apartment, he feels that fluttering feeling all over again. He’s never going to be the first choice and that’s alright. He’s fine with just sex and jokes, helping you around the apartment if needed. Oscar was taught to always give back, and you gave him so much. Even if sometimes he wished you’d give him a little more. But it’s okay, he’ll settle by whispering please, love me into your back when you fall asleep in his arms.

Abu Dhabi is huge for McLaren. Huge for Oscar, huge for Lando. It makes you sick in the stomach when you see rumors of a new girl on Lando's arm. You should hate him, but the thought that he's moved on so quickly makes you itch.

Oscar scratches that itch.

He's sweet and he's funny with his particular dry sense of humor. You like Oscar. He's nice company. He fucks good too.

He thrusts deeper, more methodically, deft fingers always leaving you with fried nerves and buzzed. He was almost perfect.

Sure, he didn't pull your hair like you liked. And maybe he didn't spank your ass as hard as you'd like, but you chalked it up to him being gentle. It's fine.

You hate to compare Oscar to Lando. He doesn't deserve that.

And yet you do. You compare the tan skin to his pale one, the ocean green to the woody brown, the curls that seemed to flatten out in softer waves.

Sometimes, and even then, you kiss the two moles that rest on Oscar's neck, the ones that look like a misplaced vampire bite. You kiss them and imagine you're kissing the moles on Lando's face. The one closer to his eye and the other resting over his smile line.

It fills you with a bit of guilt but that's alright, opting to simply run your hands down Oscar's chest and give him a pretty smile. A silent conversation that ends in sex. Just an exchange.

Oscar comes over for a while, wanting to spend time with you before he returns home for Christmas. You offered him a small pre-Christmas dinner and who was he to decline?

He even arrives with a little gift in his hand, looking a bit silly with his Santa hat. "Hi," He smiles, cheeks pink from the cold and from you.

"Hi," You smile, too, and blink a few times. "Take that off, you look stupid," You reach for the hat and take it off his head, messing his hair up a bit. Oscar just chuckles. "Sorry."

Things seem to run in a routine. The door closes behind him and he's pulling you in for a kiss. "Missed you," He admits against your lips. You're not listening, simply kissing him back.

You make pasta and you eat quietly with Oscar. It feels weirdly domestic and that makes your chest tighten uncomfortably. These are just two people who fuck eating together, normal stuff.

After dinner, you're both lying on the floor next to your Christmas tree, all the lights mixing together and casting a slight red glow over the Aussie. Oscar looks contemplative, as usual.

You, you're simply looking at him. You boldly reach out and trace a finger down the slope of his nose, a faint smile on your lips. Oscar turns to look at you, eyes glimmering under the Christmas lights.

It's poetic in a tragic way. You know you're going to hurt him, but you can't bring yourself to put an end to this now.

His hands come and touch, grabbing your wrists and gently pinning you down on the wooden floor. Oscar kisses down your neck, mouthing, and nipping slowly, his fingers unbuttoning your comfy Christmas pajama top, the flannel being peeled off of you swiftly. He kisses over your chest, giving love to each nipple.

He dares to stare at you with those precise and loving eyes, the color of his iris burning into your mind. Chocolate brown, you smile at the thought. A soft moan escapes you then.

Oscar's cheeks are hot and flushed, pulling at the tiny matching pajama shorts, seeing that you're soaked to the touch. He runs a thumb down your clothed slit, your thighs twitching at the featherlight contact.

The Aussie kneels down, resting comfortably on his stomach as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, pressing little kisses to your pussy. It's all a haze as you let your head fall back at the sight. "Yes, yes," You chant, urging Oscar to continue.

Your panties are pulled off and he doesn't waste time diving in, making out with your pretty cunt, eyes half-lidded and concentrated. He whines into your core a bit, thumb pressing down onto your clit softly as he tongue-fucks you.

Hands pull at the roots of his hair, and breathy moans and cries of his name are heard throughout the apartment—a sight to behold.

Oscar knows what you like. He likes what you want because Oscar likes you.

And he doesn't stop eating you out like a man starved until he's pulled two orgasms out of you. By then, his aching cock is begging for attention. He pulls you up onto his lap, snapping you out of your little reverie. Oscar pushes his joggers down and sinks you onto his cock, keeping a steady rhythm to satiate the hunger he has for you.

You both gasped in unison at the smooth intrusion, his pace was desperate and rough, pounding into you like no tomorrow. "You feel so tight, sweetheart," He moans as his hands wrap around your waist. You're a babbling mess, a bit wrecked from the immense pleasure.

"Oh, fuck, cum for me again," Oscar pleads, eyes searching for yours before pulling you into a kiss. You nod frantically into the messy kiss, gasping as he angles his hips to hit deeper. "Yeah, yes! F-feels so good, Osc, fuck,"

It's all surprisingly soft with how high emotions were. "Come on, sweetheart," Oscar murmurs, hips stuttering, thumb coming down to rub tight circles on your clit.

Oscar aches all over as your eyes shut, feeling like this might be the moment he realizes he's in love. He just pushes those feelings down and fucks you harder. "Can I cum inside of you?" Oscar asks, eyes watchful and hips never stalling.

Your eyes snap wide open, and you stare at him. "What? No, Oscar." The rejection doesn't hurt him; it's the tone of your voice that makes him feel small and shameful. "Okay, sorry," he whispers and kisses your lips.

Oscar pulls out and cums over your thighs, his cheeks flushed pink in a cute way. He's biting his lip as you finish yourself off by fingering yourself. Oscar loves you a little more.

After you've both calmed down, Oscar's eyes feel hot and glassy. The words he'd been dying to say rise and fall like bile, his breath short and slightly shaky.

But you don't stare at Oscar at all.

Oscar isn't what you want. He was a pity fuck that fueled your jealousy and sick satisfaction.

And you knew you'd be hurting him, but you've blocked the guilt out.

He's not Lando and he never will be, whether that's a good or bad thing.

The call comes one night in Australia, morning in London. Oscar's voice is slightly frantic at first but he tries to calm down. You know what's coming, and you feel the pit in your stomach grow, hot flashes of guilt and nerves make your vision blur slightly.

"I-I'm- What I'm trying to say is that," Oscar takes a breath, shaky and hopeful. "I think I'm in love with you."

The silence that follows is deafening, and the longer you take to answer, the less hope Oscar has for whatever this is.

Then comes your cold reply. "Then do something about it."

The call ends and you block Oscar's number.

The last time you'd seen Oscar was two years ago, you've already disconnected yourself from the world of Formula 1. If Lando is still with that woman, you don't know nor care. Sometimes you think about Oscar, but it's very fleeting. You know that if you do, you'll never recover.

Oscar hasn't been able to go a day without thinking about you. Some days it's easier than others, but it's always you. Like clockwork, your smile or your laugh comes to his memory.

He could never hate you, even now.

He was simply your fabulous loving machine.

[naycelium]

Hinoki and her Seedlings blessing a bell over a Stone Oak Statue 🐇 🔔

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

[volatilemask]

P RANK QUOTA REACHED

[luffyadolover]

@acid-ixx here it is :))

(excluding first three drawings)

first drawing:

dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence.

second drawing:

you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together.

third drawing:

it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions.

fourth drawing:

it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.

too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to.

fifth drawing:

your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply).

sixth drawing:

the older sibling who he used to threaten with his sword, who he called vile names — a bastard child, he told you one day.

seventh drawing:

you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers.

eighth drawing:

casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes

[ccccallsigns-au]

PUZZLE WEEK - CONCLUSION

[I WILL FINALLY ADMIT: YOU ALL ARE A LITTLE SMARTER THAN I THOUGHT. I SUPPOSE I HAVE TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING AS A REWARD FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK OTHER THAN MY SHALLOW CONGRATULATIONS....]

[AH! I'M SURE THERE IS SOMETHING PREVIOUSLY HIDDEN I CAN BRING FULLY TO LIGHT. THOSE OF YOU I AM PROUDEST OF HAVE SEEN THIS ALREADY.]

[THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING.] [LEAVE ME ALONE NOW.]

[royalarchivist]

QSMP Valentine's Day Movie Night VODs

Missed today's surprise movie night? Worried about muted VODs? Have no fear! I managed to get all 5 VODs downloaded before they got hit by copyright (thankfully movie night was only about half an hour today). Here are all the VODs in alphabetical order (please keep in mind these are not entire VODs, they only include the Movie Night section of each streamer's VOD)

Badboyhalo – VOD

oiBagi – VOD

FitMC – VOD

Mikethelink – VOD

Philza – VOD

Run into tech issues? Here's how to fix them:

"Video is still being processed. Try again later." — Google Drive is still processing the video! They're all higher quality videos, so like the message says, you might need to check back later since they're still being uploaded.

"Too many users have viewed or downloaded this file recently." — Here's a video tutorial on how to get around this. TLDR: You'll need to copy the files to your drive.

Have any other issues? Reach out to me and I'll see if I can help!

Please feel free to upload these to Archive.org (unfortunately, the website crashes whenever I use it).

[thebayclans]

A drawing of exit glacier that I was going to use in the stonestar story but decided not to finish it, this is an interpretation of how it may have looked a few hundred years ago when the glacier was less receded

[dast4rd]

OOPS almost forgot to post HAPPY VALENTINES DAY ❤️❤️ gift for @hitsuzenhusbands for @mgsevents gift exchange :)) hope you enjoy!!

[dreamsy990]

Penelope: Are we dating?

Odysseus: do you wanna date?

Penelope: YES GOD- how is this a question? Of course I want to date you, you dumb adorable fucking dog

This is about your au

alternative proposal: penelope thought they were dating for like. a month. perhaps two

[alciedoodles]

part 4 of 7 - emotions

[« previous] [next »]

[chalamet-chalamet]

Timothée Chalamet and Aidan Zamiri at Giullian Gioiello’s concert in NYC last night. (1/26/2025) ✨

IG credit to thalita.gomes

[hi-sierra]

On August 27th, 2023, I started Hormone Replacement Therapy.

On August 27th, 2024, I summited the tallest point in the Continental US via the High Sierra Trail.

Both were things I knew I wanted to do for... Well, most of my life, but never had the guts to follow through. Until I got burned out enough that I realized I couldn't spend the rest of my life ignoring things like that.

It took a lot of troubleshooting to actually get HRT to work, but by late spring, I was hormonally female. Changes started to take off, and will continue for years- I'm starting to look back and wonder what I was worried about.

Training for the HST also took time, and again, I don't know what I was worried about. By the time I had "built up" to the HST, I had already done several things that were just as or more strenuous, and it went by easily.

Of course, that didn't make it any less spectacular. The pictures here follow my slow 7 days on the HST, starting at the Giant Forest, over the Kaweah gap, down into Kern Canyon, and over Whitney. The granite features of the Sierras are always incredible, and doing it on foot means a first hand look at all of the tiny shifts in flora and fauna along the way.

I'm slowly starting research back up, and feel way better about it than I did before. But now that I have the skill set, I'm absolutely gonna head back into the mountains from time to time, and I'm already dreaming about more ambitious hiking goals for the next few years. I'm coming for you someday, JMT.

[bonesashesglass]

God, I’m just so mad and upset and I need to rant for a minute:

I live in Wisconsin, where the last several years winters here have been scarily mild. It’s not uncommon for us to have a mild winter every few years or so, but we’ve been having milder and milder winters for the past several years in a row. Winters here are supposed to be long and snowy. It’s supposed to start snowing in November, sometimes October, and the snow doesn’t melt all the way till April, sometimes early May.

Last year, I felt like we barely even had a winter. There was snow on the ground for maybe two months total, it kept melting and then coming back, which isn’t supposed to happen. The snow will maybe melt after the first couple times, but once you get to December, it’s supposed to stay on the ground until Spring.

Same thing is happening this year. It’ll snow for like two days, stick for maybe one day, and melt. It’ll stay that way for a couple of weeks. It’s January now. The fact that there’s no snow on the ground, in fucking Wisconsin, is alarming. The fact that this has been happening several years in a row now is alarming. I’m seeing it happen right in front of me. We’re all seeing the effects of climate change now, and we’re seeing how it’s directly destroying and harming the planet. We can see it with our own eyes.

I’m thinking about the fires in LA right now. I saw someone talk about how they were alarmed they were getting these kinds of winds in January. (I’m not familiar with LA climate but this person talked about how abnormal it is).

Everything the scientists have been saying about climate change is coming true. It’s happening right in front of us, for the whole world to see. And still, the people responsible, the right-wing politicians and businesspeople that profit off of this just deny deny deny. How can you deny what’s happening right in front of everyone? They are destroying our planet, and they still think they can deny it happening. It just makes me so angry. That a handful of people have the power to destroy our planet and refuse to even acknowledge it. They act like the words “climate change” is liberal propaganda. As if it’s not something we can see happening right before our eyes. They pretend it’s political, they pretend it’s a conspiracy, because they have no other way to justify being against protecting the planet.

One thing that angers me most is that the only thing people seem to do about this is complain on social media. (I know, that’s exactly what I’m doing, but hear me out). LA is burning to the ground because of climate change, and what’s anybody going to do about it? Make a post on Twitter? Maybe write an article about it?

That doesn’t change anything. We need change. We need direct action. It’s only going to get worse if we keep letting companies and governments continue as they are. They cannot continue as they are.

If you haven’t heard of the book How to Blow Up a Pipeline, go look it up. The author talks about a lot of the stuff I want to get at here, but he puts it a lot better.

My hope is that these LA fires will start a movement for stopping climate change. Not just a general shift of opinion like we’ve seen the past few years, but a real movement where people show up in person to do something. We exist in a time where Luigi Mangione is seen as a hero for his actions, I hope people will get inspired to take more direct action in regards to climate change. (That doesn’t mean shooting more people, I’m not advocating for murder, but we need to start taking action beyond just complaining on social media).

I’m going to start researching resources to help myself and others to get more involved with preventing climate change. I hope one day, we’ll have an actual winter in Wisconsin again. To everyone in LA, please please stay safe❤️

[royalarchivist]

Pac: What is this, man?!

The relationship of Sims Hideduo is too strong for even Pac to sabotage, despite his best efforts 😅