#we all deserve this to be our public spaces

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Whimsical public spaces 🌱💕

[vehemourn]

went to post this on twitter but i didnt wanna get banned . crazy that u can scrape my entire lifes work and i cant even tell u to die over it <3

[goodbyeapathy8]

I need people to stop glorifying the 4B movement in Korea, from a Western (white) perspective. Stop it. If you are blissfully unaware of this (having not been on TikTok) - in theory, it makes sense. No sex with men, no dating men, no child rearing with men, and no marriage with men. But. BUT. Feminists in Korea are problematic AF. I know this from both personal experience (having been on the receiving end of their ire online) and everything I've read about them, in Korean. I see all these white TikTokers (and even some in the Korean diaspora) fawning over how "we" in the US need this and, no. If your feminism is transphobic, hates gay men, hates men in general, that's not the feminism I'd endorse. Why is Korean feminism transphobic? In 2020, Korean feminists ACTIVELY CAMPAIGNED AGAINST a woman who was accepted to Sookmyung University. An all womens' university. But she was a woman, you say. What could be their problem? According to Korean feminists, they didn't want a "man" in their space. Because she is a trans woman. This is not unusual for Korean feminists. Having lived there for 5 years, to some extent, I understand their anger against misogyny. But if you are truly against the toxic patriarchy that exists in Korea, you must also help dismantle military conscription because that is where a lot of men become radicalized, bullied, etc etc and "grow up" to be the most toxic form of men seen on this earth. But Korean feminists don't give AF about that and in fact, I've read a lot of them express that it's good for men to suffer. Guess what? That view is internalized misogyny and toxic patriarchy, too. And I don't want to hear it about the movement being so "young". Korean women have stepped up to the plate before in our history. We are capable of better than this fucking nonsense. It's a bunch of transphobic, gay hating radicals that have hijacked what was supposed to be about social justice. WOMAD (link is to the Wikipedia article, not their site) and Megalia are the two sites they stem from. It is the most toxic group of people I've ever had the displeasure to encounter online. Any form of criticism is, at best, ignored and worst - I've been "called out" for being Korean-American, and therefore, to "butt out" of "Korean issues". Amongst other bullying I've personally received. And yes, not just on forums but on public articles that I've commented on.

I know it's a catchy title and it appeals in theory but please, please do not glorify these transphobes and TERFs. They don't deserve your attention.

[cedarnommer]

A trans person was assaulted for trying to comply to transphobic demands on going to the "correct" bathroom. And the response from transphobes was merely that she deserved it. That it's "boys just fighting". That this is so that women are kept safe.

I know this site is full of TERFs. And so, I want to focus the attention towards you. Your belief system is just very disjointed. Women should have their own spaces and defeat the patriarchy. Yet somehow men are inherently powerful and violent. We should dismantle the patriarchal system. Yet "boys fighting" is acceptable, even as one person is a trans femme that was attacked. No matter how patient and compassionate people can be towards you, you vilify us and support men that do this to us. You are not fighting for women's rights. Likely your movement will hinge back to racism if we ever get wiped out as you seek us to be. Your ideas won't protect lesbians. They won't protect black women. They won't even protect you.

We can't use a public restroom. We can't use locker rooms. Are we going to be a threat to you just for existing publicly at some point? As cis men and women murder us and rape us?

And I want to know, where does that help you? If we get killed off are you going to be safer from cis men? Is this fun to you? Trying to ruin our lives? To tell us how we're supposed to feel and identity? Do you know why we start having violent responses to our abusers? Do you not realize you are behaving like the said men you despise?

Your movement is rotten. It's protecting men. And it's endangering us. All I can say is go fuck yourselves for all of this.

[liminalweirdo]

"We all deserve the right to protect and keep ourselves safe. Implementing a mask ban is not only an infringement on our human rights but also extremely ableist and inconsiderate of those disabled or immunocompromised.

. . .

About 1 in 5 adult New Yorkers have a disability. If a mask ban were to be implemented, spaces such as stores and restaurants might ban masking or set up mask-removal policy. That’s 1 in 5 adults no longer able to shop in public along with others, or participate in gatherings.

Forcing immunocompromised people to remove their face masks would likely violate the federal Americans with Disabilities Act and the New York State Human Rights Law. As a member of ACT UP NY, it’s always my goal to fight for human rights such as healthcare.

Those that are HIV+ are 8% more likely to be hospitalized due to COVlD than those that aren’t and are also at an increased risk of developing Long COVlD.

Masking SAVES LIVES. Masking is community care.”

Behind the Powecom KN95 is Serita @_seritasargent_ and her friend Bri’anna @lanoirede.jpg holding the #StopMaskBans sign.

MaskTogetherAmerica encourages everyone to speak up and write to elected officials to demand they oppose the anti-mask bills S9867/A10057 and S9194! We need to defend our right to masks.

[queer-geordie-nerd]

This has been said ad nauseum, I know, but the thing I just *cannot* get over is how very quickly and easily the left as a movement abandoned its most basic principles:

“Rape is an abhorrent, violating crime and we must believe and uplift survivors” - until it is done to Jewish women and girls in the name of ‘resistance’ then it’s just fine and dandy, or we might not even believe you at all.

“An armed force invading and mass murdering civilians is a war crime” - until the victims are Jews and you’ve decided it’s ‘resistance’ and ‘you don’t get to criticise how they fight back.’ No, mate, the word you’re looking for is ‘pogrom.’

“Slavery is bad” - until it is Jews being held hostage in Palestinian homes and forced to work then it’s ‘they were treated well and fed, what more do you want?’

“Indigenous peoples regaining their ancestral homelands is a key part of decolonisation and is a worthy endeavour” - until it is Jews regaining the land of Israel after centuries of disenfranchisement then it’s ‘white supremacy’ and ‘colonialism’ and the most evil thing in the world.

“Collective punishment is bad, citizens aren’t responsible for the actions of their government” - until we can treat every single Israeli like evil incarnate and deserving of the worst abuse and treatment simply for existing.

“Oppressed people know their own oppression better than you do. Listen to them and don’t presume to know better about the issues they face” - until it’s Jews talking about antisemitism and then it’s ignoring them, talking over them and accusing them of weaponising their oppression to silence criticism.

“Abuse and violence against an oppressed group must be condemned wholeheartedly and we must stand with the persecuted” - until it is Jews facing a 400% increase in antisemitism - being spat at, beaten, raped, ostracised from public spaces, having their schools and synagogues targeted, and then it’s shut our eyes and ears and pretend none of it is happening.

“Queer rights for all” - until Israel dares to be a beacon of queer rights in the Middle East and then it’s ‘pinkwashing.’

Do you even hear yourselves? Do you even care that you are being breathtaking hypocrites? How do you expect anyone to ever take you seriously ever again?

[fans4wga]

Strike Support Declining - Here's how you can continue to support the writers

Since the WGA strike started on May 2, the public has shown immense support for the writers—sending food, snacks, drinks, and encouragement from across the world all the way to Los Angeles, New York, and other picketing locations.

But loud and vocal strike support—in the news and in public spaces—is notably declining the longer the strike goes on. So we're bringing you a few ways to show writers, studios, and fellow fans: we're still here, and we still stand with the WGA.

1. Post on Twitter (and other social media sites)

You might think social media noise won't be noticed by the studios, but it CAN encourage individual WGA members—and slowly but surely put pressure on the studios to make a fair deal.

If you follow WGA members such as Adam Conover (Adam Ruins Everything), John Rogers (Leverage, Librarians), Gennifer Hutchison (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul), Javier Grillo-Marxuach (Lost, The Witcher) [and many many more you can find through their following lists], tell them you support them! Hashtag #IStandWithTheWGA #DoTheWriteThing and tell them that you and your fandom are prepared to support them as long as the strike lasts; that they deserve to have their demands met and you're with them all the way. Boost morale however and whenever you can!

Likewise, actively push back against misinformation/disinformation. See a TikTok claiming that all Hollywood writers are filthy rich and we shouldn't vocally support them? Correct it with well-sourced citations from the WGA, published news articles, and stories from those affected (like the time a writer on FX's The Bear attended the an awards show with his bank account balance in the negative, only to then win an award for Best Comedy Series—proving that good writers on award-winning shows still cannot make a living!)

Remember you can always link to Adam Conover's excellent explanation of WGA demands versus studio refusals, tweeted here.

2. Donate or boost fundraisers

You might be surprised to learn that the picketing locations are not always parties! Sometimes themed pickets are fun, and fandoms and celebrities occasionally are able to fundraise for a food truck or ice cream truck at picketing locations. However, that is the EXCEPTION and not the norm. Writers are asking for food & drinks at many locations.

There are many funds to donate to, and it can be overwhelming to pick one! But one that could use your support RIGHT NOW is the CBS Radford picket line:

-If you're in LA, you can bring food and snacks directly to that picket line (or get food deliveries sent there, with instructions to be given to the strike captain on duty.) Strike locations are available on the WGA West website and are updated there.

-Or there's a pizza fund for the strike locations (unfortunately Venmo is a US-only donation option)

-If you're not in LA, donate to the Entertainment Community Fund to support TV and film workers affected by the strike.

-More tips on donating to the strike in this great article!

-Lots of fandoms are organizing donations on their own, for instance the Our Flag Means Death fundraiser on Paypal (updated 30 July 2023 with new link) (available internationally). Check to see if your fandom has started a fundraiser... or start one yourself to show your support! We're happy to give tips on organizing your fandom!

As always, please boost this post and any and all well-sourced information that comes from the WGA or its members. We're happy to fact-check anything you send our way too.

[catgirl-kaiju]

we (transfems) deserve to have spaces online where we can feel safe and where we can thrive.

there's been plenty of discourse recently alleging that we are trying to separate ourselves from the rest of the community by talking abt transmisogyny. but, we're not trying to separate, we are being separated. we are being pushed out of public spaces, and even the spaces where other queer folks are allowed to exist without fear.

and this has an effect on our ability to advocate for ourselves and share our perspectives. it also suppresses our art and the records of our lives, our existence. i'm an artist and aspiring entertainer. I would like to be able to bring a larger audience to my work, i want my work to be able to find folks who can connect with it. how can i do that effectively if so many social media sites are not safe for me? what happens if i get banned, and my profile scrubbed of all content?

i already have a decent following on here, and i feel like the bigger i get on here, the more likely i am to be stripped of everything i have on this site by displeasing the wrong people. my presence online should not be contingent on being a good little tranny with no controversial opinions, who is quiet about my weird kinks. we shouldn't have to be pallettable sterile objects for your consumption just to exist in public spaces, online and offline.

[phleb0tomist]

society at large seems to want less people to have to use wheelchairs and mobility aids. yet the world is not set up to protect or accommodate people’s bodies at all. undue physical strain obviously worsens disability, and yet rest is a huge social sin, while hustle culture and ‘willpower’ are king. everyone is impatient toward people who can’t walk or stand for long. it’s ‘disruptive’ to stand in ‘weird’ positions or to need to reposition regularly. many jobs discourage or ban staff from working while seated, even if sitting doesn’t impact their job at all. this crap leads a lot of people to deteriorate to the point of needing mobility aids they wouldn’t’ve needed if only their bodies were given the respectful and liberating space they deserved.

hostile architecture & increasing lack of public seating, poor public transport systems, bizarre hatred toward anyone who walks slowly or clumsily or needs ‘extra’ rest, insistence that an average person should be able to work on their feet 12hrs at a time with only 20mins break... all of these things tip people from being technically able bodied to needing mobility aids. some of these things contribute to permanent worsening of people’s disabilities.

almost like the system is not built with people’s wellbeing in mind and is actually structured to force people to push themselves, so we all end up feeling responsible for our alleged inadequacies of willpower and health when we can’t keep up

[the-delta-quadrant]

since rishi sunak talked about wanting to ban transgender people from using public bathrooms, i see a lot of talk about "transgender people deserve to feel safe in the bathroom that aligns with their gender".

completely ignoring that such a bathroom doesn't exist for a big chunk of transgender people?

transgender men and women being allowed in the men's and women's bathroom respectively doesn't really do much for nonbinary people at all.

a lot of us feel unsafe in such binary gendered spaces no matter what, already because we can't use them without misgendering ourselves. but it's barely ever taken into account because people love to act like the "transgender bathroom issue" will be solved if we just allow transgender men and women in the men's and women's bathrooms.

even some transgender people act like all gender bathrooms are too much to ask for now, they're something to implement "at some point", they're not a priority, etc. nonbinary people are yet again to wait our turn for safety and comfort. nonbinary people are still basically told even by other transgender people that we shouldn't exist in public spaces if we can't even piss safely. i've seen binary transgender people straight up say nonbinary people who bring this up are "derailing the conversation from what's important", like nonbinary safety doesn't matter.

transgender bathroom ban or not, i feel unsafe in a binary bathroom either way.

for *all* transgender people to safely exist in public life, gendered bathrooms need to be abolished. no safety for some of us without safety for all of us.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (26/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Burning things is a good way to get rid of stuff. But perhaps you and Charles have more in common than you like.

Warnings: this is quite angsty (mentions of cheating, Annika and Raphael), fire (of course), some fluff

Word Count: 4.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: this is a long one. but well, I felt like it. there are some Easter eggs in this chapter, tell me which one you found! feedback is appreciated (as always, please and thank you!)

Since your newly purchased items have not made it any further into the apartment than the hallway, Charles' bedroom looks pretty empty. There are three large boxes next to the door, which gradually fill up the longer you stay in the room. 

"What about this?" you ask Charles and show him a pink candlestick that was recently on the windowsill. 

Your roommate pulls his head out of the closet. "Throw it away."

"Okay." You try not to trip over anything as you walk over to the door and place the item in the left box, which already contains a vase and empty picture frames. As you straighten up again, a shirt flies past your face before landing in the right box.

"Sorry," Charles mumbles, without taking his eyes off the clothes in front of him. 

"It's all right." You glance at the chest of drawers against the wall. "What about this?" you ask, pointing to the few books arranged by size on the dark wood. 

Charles sighs. "Just assume you can throw away everything in this room." Another item lands in the box on the right. 

Unsure, you bite the inside of your cheek.

The idea was to get all the stuff Annika left in the bedroom out of the apartment and - if possible - burn it in Jori's fire bowl, in the hope that Charles can have closure. The box on the left is for things that can't easily be turned into ashes, such as picture frames, candlesticks or small, empty flower pots. The middle one is for things Annika couldn't pack in her haste, like jewelry, clothes, electronics. She would come to collect them at some point. 

The box on the right is for flammable things. The pictures from photo frames, books, tickets from events the couple attended together - and the clothes Charles throws in. And it looks like they're his. 

"Can I ask why you're throwing away your clothes?" you ask timidly as you sit down on the bed. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, which will also end up in the right-hand box later. 

Charles pushes some empty hangers aside before taking a jacket off the hanger. "Everything in this room is from when Annika and I were a couple." He shows you the jacket. "I was wearing this the first time we went to the racetrack together. Our first public appearance as a couple." He throws the jacket towards the door before grabbing the next item - a sweater. "I wore this one on the first Valentine's Day. We went out for dinner and then to the movies."

You purse your lips. "And you want to get rid of all these memories? Even if they are nice ones?"

The sweater lands on the jacket before Charles turns to you and looks at you for the first time since you walked into this room. "That woman cheated on me. Took advantage of my trust and broke it." His gaze is rock hard. "Whoever she was to me, she doesn't deserve to have her memories here. I want to put it all behind me. I want to be free."

You see a sad glint in his eyes, which you don't address. Instead, you get up from the bed and begin to sort out everything that's still lying around into the boxes, while Charles pulls one item of clothing after another out of the closet. 

Apart from a little rustling and your footsteps, the room is silent. You want to give Charles his space, give him the peace and quiet he needs to sort out his thoughts and really come to terms with the relationship. The fact that he has asked you to help him with this warms your heart. Because even though you've only known each other for a short time, he's the person you care most about. The person you would run to immediately if your life went down the drain. The person you can tell everything to without being judged. 

You seem to be that person for Charles too - the person he can trust without having to worry, the person who would help him bury a body - this feeling warms you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. 

"I think that's it," Charles finally interrupts the silence and closes the now empty closet behind him while you remove the cover from one of the two pillows. His gaze wanders from your face to your hands. "You don't need to do that. We'll put the bedding in a big bag and then it can all go."

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly, but put the pillow back on the bed. 

"Very sure. I don't want to sleep in a bed she slept in or cover myself with a blanket she slept under. I just want to put it behind me."

"Okay." You walk around the bed and put in the clothes that missed the box. "Which car do we take? My Renault is still at the old place and your Ferrari won't fit the stuff." Besides, it would be too conspicuous and you don't want us to be seen in it together.

"There's an old car of my brother's downstairs in the garage. It's bigger than the Ferrari," he calls out from the hallway, where he's rummaging around in one of the cupboards before entering the bedroom again. In his hand he holds a huge blue plastic bag from a Swedish furniture store. "If that's not enough, I've got another one."

It's not enough. The bedding actually has to be divided into three different bags until the bed is empty except for the mattress. As Charles stands at the front door, one bag on each shoulder and a box - containing the last bag - in his hands, he peeks past it. "Can you open the door for me, please? I'd like to take the things downstairs."

As packed as he is, you have to stifle a grin. The Monegasque looks like a pack mule. "You can walk several times, you know that? Then you won't be straining your shoulders."

Your flatmate blows a strand of hair out of his forehead. "No way. I'd rather fall down the stairs before I have to walk twice."

As you open the door and press the elevator button for him, you just shake your head. "Then it's a good thing there's an elevator here. You'll still have to go a second time."

While Charles takes the things to the underground garage, you put the other two boxes by the front door before you go in search of another large bag. As Charles has already used all the available bags from the hall cupboard, you have no choice but to take a bin liner from the kitchen. As you hear him grab the second box, you poke your head out of the kitchen. 

"I'll bring the other box in a minute. You can wait downstairs by the car, okay?"

"All right," he replies and puts the box on his hip. "It shouldn't be that heavy. It's just the picture frames and stuff in there." He smiles at you. "See you in a bit then. But hurry up."

You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh before he disappears with the box in his hands. When you're alone, you walk from the kitchen into the living room, where the red roses that Charles must have forgotten are still on the white piano. You carefully put them in the bag, taking care not to tear the thin plastic, and then tie it up before dragging the bin bag into the hallway and putting it in the box.

The roses make the box much heavier than expected and when you arrive a few minutes later, panting, in the underground parking garage where Charles is already waiting to meet you, you are glad when he takes it off your hands. 

"What's in there?" he asks, pointing to the bag after placing the box in the trunk of the silver car.

You shrug your shoulders. "I found this. We can burn it if you like," you simply reply and drop into the passenger seat while Charles closes the trunk. 

The drive to Joris is shorter than expected and although it's not too late, the sky is already turning red, as if the sun is about to set. There's some song on the radio that you don't know and Charles isn't humming along to. As he finally steers the car through the familiar narrow alley and then pulls on the handbrake in a parking lot, the front door opens and Joris enters the courtyard. 

"Hello, you two," he greets you as you get out of the car. While he shakes Charles' hand, he presses a kiss to your cheek, first on the left and then on the right. "You said on the phone that you wanted to burn something?" He rubs his hands together excitedly. 

Your roommate nods and opens the trunk. "Not only that." He takes one of the boxes - the one with Annika's belongings - and hands it to his buddy. "I'd like to leave them here, if that's possible. I don't want to see Annika again and I'd be incredibly grateful if you could give her her things back."

"Of course," he replies and takes a look in the trunk. "What about this?" With a nod, he points to the box with the picture frames. 

"This," Charles begins the sentence before grabbing the box and walking over to one of the garbage containers that must belong to Jori's house. Without giving it much thought, he dumps the contents into the garbage can before rejoining you to take the three bags of bedding and throwing them into the container as well. "'Is garbage. We'd like to burn the rest that's left there."

"The firewood and fuel are already ready."

The boys carry the things upstairs and you follow them. When you arrive at Jori's apartment, you close the door behind you while Joris puts the box with Annika's things in a room and Charles walks towards the rooftop terrace. You open the door for him and he smiles gently at you as he walks past you towards the fire bowl, which already has some wood in it. 

A little later, Joris joins you, a small canister of gasoline in his hand. "You'll need this. Please don't burn yourselves. I've got a quick online meeting coming up and no time to drive you to the hospital." 

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that," says Charles as he takes the burning liquid from his buddy's hand. As Joris disappears, Charles pulls an outdoor couch sitting in a corner near the fire bowl. "In case it takes longer. Then we don't have to stand the whole time."

While Charles lights the wood, you take the garbage bag with the roses out of the box and put it next to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

Charles looks up from the small flame snaking around one of the logs. "There should be cans of Coke in the fridge. And there should be some sweets in the cupboard in the living room." When you look at him in astonishment, he grins. "Go ahead and help yourself. Joris has already eaten my entire fridge once when he was drunk."

"Okay." You leave him alone on the roof terrace and go searching. You actually find the cans in the fridge, two of which you take and put on the living room table so you can rummage through the cupboard for something sweet. You find fruit gums, some chocolate - which you probably shouldn't bring anywhere near a fire - and a bucket of popcorn, which you tuck under your arm. 

When you return to Charles with your hands full, he laughs. 

"What?" you ask, confused, as he takes the bucket from you. "You told me to help myself. And that's what I did."

"That's right." He motions for you to sit down on the sofa. As he sits down next to you, he nudges his knee against yours. He opens his can of Coke and you do the same. "Here's to the future." He holds his can out to you.

You clink glasses with him. "To the future."

After a few minutes, the fire burns brightly and warms you on this beautiful winter evening and Charles pokes around in the wood with a poker, which apparently belongs to the fire bowl, before grabbing the box and placing it between you on the couch. The fact that there's this physical distance between you both bothers you more than it should. 

"Two years for nothing," Charles says as he pulls out the first picture. It shows him and Annika lying on the beach and smiling at the camera. He throws it into the fire. "For nothing, for absolutely nothing."

"Don't say that." You watch as the flames engulf the photo. "You learn from relationships. No matter how long they last."

He throws a piece of paper into the bowl. It looks like a concert ticket. "And what have I learned? How to be cheated on without realizing it? I definitely didn't need to learn that." His tone is cold.

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. When you take your eyes off the fire and look at him, his features are soft. He looks hurt. You purse your lips. "How did you find out?"

"I caught them." As you stare at him open-mouthed, he shrugs. " I was actually planning on flying from race to race, but my gut told me to fly back home." He has to swallow. "When I walked through the front door, there were already shoes there that weren't mine. And when I walked towards the bedroom, I heard them."

You raise an eyebrow. "They were doing it in your bed?" No wonder he doesn't want to keep the bedding or the bed. 

He nods weakly and throws one of his shirts into the fire. "I knew exactly what was behind the door and yet it broke my heart when I actually saw it. It wasn't much, but enough to know that it could never have been that 'it's not what it looks like' thing."

You hand him two plane tickets, which he throws away without looking at them. "And then?"

"She wanted to talk to me, begged me to stay with her and said how sorry she was. But I didn't want to hear any of it. I just turned around and left. I couldn't look her in the eye."

"I can understand that," you answer him quietly. 

"I think if I had really loved her the way you do in relationships, I would have thrown her out of the apartment straight away. But when I left and created distance between us, I racked my brains as to why she did that. And it was all over the internet that a lot of people do it because they feel neglected by their partner and are looking for closeness with someone else."

"And that's why you felt so bad that you allowed her to continue living there?" He nods. Another couple of photos land in the flames and catch fire. "Did you know the man?"

He shakes his head in response. He fixates on a burning log as if he doesn't want to look at you. When he does, his gaze is full of the kind of pain and hatred you've only ever seen on his face once before. As you remember the situation, your heart breaks. For both of you. 

When you answer him, your voice is no louder than your breath. "It was Raphael."

Your stomach clenches so tightly that you feel like throwing up. That's how Charles knew where Raphael worked. Something you've forgotten until now. Something is pounding behind your eyes and it's only when a tear runs down your cheek that you realize you're crying. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Charles' voice is soft and through the veil of tears you see his hand twitch, as if he's struggling to take you in his arms and comfort you. But there's this stupid box between you. And you've never felt so lonely. 

"Y/N..."

"Don't," you say quietly and without thinking about it, you reach into the box between you, grab everything you can with one hand and throw it into the fire in front of you. You watch as Annika's face burns. You throw a second handful into the fire bowl. This time it's his jacket. "That bastard."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather kill them both."

A faint smile spreads across Charles' face. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Although I've thought about it before. But I'm afraid that I won't be able to drive my super-fast car if I'm behind bars."

"What if I take over for both of us?" 

"I think the prison clothes would look good on you, but the visiting hours are definitely a pain in the ass and I couldn't stand not seeing you every day," he says gently and reaches for the now empty box, which he now places on the floor next to the couch. Then he pulls you into his arms. And from now on, it's not the fire in front of you that warms you. 

You stare into the fire for a while, feeling Charles' arm around your waist and his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you going to tell me what's in that garbage bag?" 

"Oh." You straighten up, dumbfounded, and lean over the backrest to pick up the bin bag. As you turn back to Charles, his gaze quickly flickers back to your face. "This morning - after your mother visited - we were sitting together in the living room and you couldn't stop staring at the piano. But it wasn't the piano, was it?"

He shakes his head and as you untie the knot of the bag, he takes a peek inside. "I'd totally forgotten about that just now." 

"That's what I thought. That's why I brought them." You pull out the letters of roses and place them next to you on the couch before handing him the first one. While he throws the first rose into the fire, you open the bucket of popcorn and snuggle up to his side again. 

"Annika gave it to me for our second anniversary," he explains, before opening his mouth and looking at you expectantly. As you pop a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth, he grins at you. You ignore the fact that your fingers are tingling where they touched his lips: "I don't even like roses. I think they're too hackneyed and the most unimaginative thing you can give someone to show that you love them."

"So a gift without really making an effort," you continue his thought. "And what are your favorite flowers?"

When he looks at you, his gaze is warm and there's a sparkle in his eyes that you can't quite put your finger on. "Peonies."

You feel the warmth shoot into your cheeks and turn your gaze away from him. He throws more roses into the fire and you continue to pop popcorn into both of your mouths as the flowers burst into flames in front of you. You hope that this action is as cleansing for him as it is being said all over the internet. You hand him the second letter, which he can burn in peace, before standing up and taking his empty Coke can. "I guess you need a new one?" 

His grin is wide. "Yes, please."

You disappear into the kitchen, where you leave the can on the counter and take a new one from the fridge. As you go back to Charles, you bump into Joris, who is just coming out of one of the rooms. "How did your online meeting go?"

"Pretty good," he replies and walks past you into the kitchen to take another can from the fridge. You stop in the doorway. "It was just about familiarizing myself with my new job, which I start in the New Year."

"That's right," you reply and raise your eyebrows. "You said you'd been offered a job. Are you already looking forward to it?"

"Very much. I can hardly wait," he replies as you walk towards the living room. You can watch Charles through the window as he continues to set the roses on fire. "Was that your idea? With the whole burning thing?"

You nod. "Yes. I burned my ex-boyfriend's things too when I found out he'd cheated on me. Only I didn't have a big fire bowl."

"Then where did you do it?"

You shrug your shoulders. "In the kitchen sink."

Joris has to laugh before he nudges yours with his shoulder. "Your friendship is good for him. He's never opened up to anyone as quickly as he did with you. I'm starting to think I need to worry that you're taking my place as his best friend."

"Haha. You two have known each other for ages. I don't think I could ever get in the way, even if I wanted to." You have to smile. "But Charles is definitely my best friend. There's nothing I wouldn't want to share with him."

"It's nice to hear that you're good for each other." He smiles at you. 

"Do you want to come outside?" you ask him as you walk to the patio door. 

Joris waves you off. "You go and do your cleansing thing. But please don't burn down the sofa. That's sacred to me."

You stick your tongue out at him and grab the blanket hanging over the back of a chair before returning to Charles, who has now reached the last letter. You hand him the Coke and spread the blanket over your knees. The sun has set, but the fire in front of you is so bright that you have no problem seeing his beautiful face. 

"Do you think she would have cheated on me too if I had been a better boyfriend?" Charles asks quietly at one point, without looking at you. 

"I don't know."

He thinks for a moment. "She said that everything in my life revolves around Formula One. That I don't notice what's going on around me. And that I was never there for her like a boyfriend should be. And that she had to share me with the whole world." As he turns to you, you see tears glistening in his eyes. "You said you were sure there was someone out there for me who wouldn't find my job too hectic. Who will support me no matter how hard it gets."

You turn to him and put your hand to his cheek to make him look at you. A tear rolls down his cheek and you wipe it away with your thumb. "I have. And I mean it."

He licks his tongue over his lips. "You also said that there's a person out there for everyone. A soulmate with whom you can share everything. With whom you don't have to pretend and can be who you really are." You feel his arms wrap around your middle and before you know it, you're sitting in his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his neck so you can hold him tight. 

"So you think there's someone else out there for me? That I haven't missed my chance at love?" You feel his warm breath on your face and how much you want to kiss away the tears that escape his eyes. Take away all his pain. Show him how much he means to you. 

But now is not the right time. Someday. Maybe.

"I promise you that." 

You watch him throw the last rose into the fire. In an instant, the red blossoms catch fire, the stem begins to glow and before you know it, this last piece from a time Charles wants to forget at all costs disappears and turns to ash. 

His grip on you tightens. A sign for you to turn towards him. When you look at him, his cheeks are wet, but he doesn't look sad. The smile on his face is honest and genuine and so loving that you can't help but return it. 

He would love to put his hands on your face and kiss you until you can't breathe. To feel your lips on his, your skin on his and tell you how important you are to him. How much he craves you and that everything he feels for you goes beyond the limits of friendship. But the only thing he does is grab your hand with his and squeeze it twice. Maybe you'll understand. Understand why he always squeezes twice. 

The right time will come. Someday. Maybe. 

When you look at him, with tears in your eyes and a warmth that makes his heart stumble, he has to swallow. He's never been as grateful to anyone as he is to you. 

"I'm free."

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[lovemly4]

Hi there! Not sure if you're open for request but if you dont, feel free to ignore 😅 my request will be lando x reader, whereby he's dating a very shy reader so its normal for her to want to keep their relationship very private. However, one day, reader told lando that she's ready to watch him race and support him irl and it makes him so so happy and both of them were smiley and giggly while walking on the paddock. Hope that's okay!

I’m here with you - Lando Norris

word count: 841 ; genre: fluff ; pairing: Lando Norris x reader ; warnings: none, just teeth rotting fluff ☆

Note: Hii, of course requests are open!! And this is so cute omfg, i feel like Lando would be super respectful of you boundaries, but his eyes would light up when you tell him that you’re ready to support him in person to his races.

Wednesday, Nov 29th, 2023

My heart jumped at the sound of the front door opening. It had been three days since the Abu Dhabi GP, and during our time apart we tried to contact each other every time we could.

“My darling, i missed you so much” he exclaimed against my shoulder as I hugged him, inhaling his familiar perfume. I felt a little bad at his words, a little thunder striking through my heart.

Despite being in a relationship with him for four months already, I’ve never felt ready enough to make it public; but what was I so afraid of? I didn’t really know, actually.

I feared that people would come at me, telling me that I wasn’t enough, that he deserved someone better, maybe? Yes, most definitely.

Something held me back, despite my wish to make him the happiest man in the world.

“I missed you too Lan, I’m sorry i wasn’t able to be there with you” I apologized, my hand making its way to his cheek.

He smiled comprehensively.

“You don’t need to apologize love, I know. I would never force you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing” He said in a tone a little louder than just a whisper.

I placed a little peck on his lips, and reached out to help him with his luggages.

Friday, Feb 23rd, 2024

I looked at the tallest shelf in our shared walk-in closet, carefully choosing Lando’s shirts.

My face assumed a concentrated look, as the man walked in behind me placing his hand on my waist.

“Sweetheart, we don’t need to put so much effort in choosing my clothes, you know? I’ll probably be wearing my suit most of the time, anyway” he chuckled, stroking my side.

“I know Lan, but it’s the first race of the season! You must look good!” I talked back, reaching for the Quadrant shirt.

I followed him out of the closet, laying his shirt flat beside his joggers.

I studied him silently as he was organizing the space in his bag.

“…Lando, will you be alone in Bahrain?” i asked hesitantly, nervously playing with the hem of my sleeve.

“Oh no, my team will be there, of course. Zack will arrive two days later than me, he mentioned a problem with his son or something. I’ll meet Oscar outside the airport there.”

I stayed hushed, quietly working out my thoughts as he locked the luggage.

“What if… What if i come with you? To Bahrain. To the race.” i tried to ask, timidly hiding my hands in my pockets.

He turned to me all of a sudden, eyes wide open like a deer caught in headlights.

“Did i heard that right? You’re not joking, are you? Are you serious?” he spoke quickly, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of what he had just heard.

I laughed at his reaction as he took my hands in his.

“Are you really sure y/n? I don’t want you to regret this. I won’t complain if you change your mind.” he sat me on the edge of our shared bed, reassuring me with kind words.

“I’ve never been so sure, Lan. I think it’s about time, i want to cheer you in person and show you all my support” i warmly smiled, and he started bouncing like a little boy. He bursted out of the room before i could process something to say.

“Where are you going?” i shouted, keeping an ear out to detect his distant voice.

“To take your bags!”

Saturday, Mar 2nd, 2024, present day.

A light breeze sways my dress, as I hold Lando’s hand through the paddock.

He never stopped chuckling like a baby since we’ve landed, and now he’s introducing me to every soul on the track.

He walks me to the garage, running to his car and patting the big “4” in the front.

“This is her. Isn’t she beautiful? Hopefully she’ll be a good girl on the track.” I laugh at his seriousness and he copies me, placing his arm around my waist.

“Look, this is where you’re going to sit during the race. You can hear me through the headset. Those are all the monitors through which you can see me. If you need something, let the guys know ok?”

I squeeze his hand reassuringly, and his mind seems to stop wandering for a moment. He has always been so good at hiding his thoughts and feelings, but the quick rise and fall of his chest betrays his calmness.

“Lan, breathe. I’m fine, you’re fine. We’re fine. And most importantly, we’re here together.”

One of the engineers calls for Lando and Oscar, but the light in his eyes is peaceful now.

“I love you. Thank you for being here with me”

I kiss him deeply, and watch him run away with his teammate.

The red lights go out.

The race finally begins, and he couldn’t be happier. He feels safe, and he’s so grateful to have by his side someone so brave and caring.

No matter how it goes, the only thing he cares to win is your heart.

[campyvillain]

Recently I learned that Squimpus, the creator of the FNAF VHS series on Youtube, is a groomer. I say “is” because this is not an accusation. The reason I learned this to begin with is because they outright confirmed it in a group chat I was in. They used to be my best friend, and they kept all of this hidden from their other immediate friends for years. They befriended me as a minor, fully aware of their history of being inappropriate towards minors, and though they did not make any advances on me, I feel disgusted having ever known them all the same. At that time, there was no way I, or anyone else, could ever have known of the evil they were committing. As someone who knew them for a long time, I can confirm all of this is real. I will never be associated with them ever again, I will not allow them to linger in my life any longer. I mean it when I say they deserve to lose everything. Spread this post like wildfire. The public needs to know about this.

Here’s a link to my extended statement about this. Here’s a link to the proof in the form of a video, presenting all of the incriminating information against them as corroborated by immediate friends of theirs and the anonymous victim. Again, this is all real. We’ve been gathering info on this for multiple days now. If there’d be anyone to know if this was real or not, it’d be me.

Do not make any attempt to contact anyone involved in this situation, including me. Do not try to find out who the victim is, they have been kept anonymous for their own safety and privacy. Do not sensationalize this as some sort of drama or make it into a joke or a meme. We know they were an influential figure online so this is going to draw a lot of attention and there’s no way we can control the way people respond to this, but we all just want this to be over so we can move on with our lives. Give everyone affected by this the space and patience they need in a time like this. This is a god damn nightmare.

Thank you for your support.

[appleblueberry-pie]

I need a guy that isn’t “I almost lose my mind when I’m with you” but actually does. Like get lost in the sauce of our love fr fr. Go crazy go stupid. On GOD I need a pet boyfriend 😔 a devoted, all worshipful, loyal servant. Like please bae glare at everyone.

Anyway- can we have some feral obsessed hcs for Yuuta, Gojo, and Geto? I have an actual obsession problem with uninterested reader so that’s the plot. Just a couple of besties with one who wants to not just be besties 🫶😔

ok lightwork.

Yuuta

Everyone you're close with gets in the crossfire.

He doesn't give a damn. If they know you, he knows about them with or without their consent. It's uncomfortable, the amount of information he knows about every single person that you know. If you have enough knowledge to remember at least one significant thing about them, he will find a way to find out who they are, where they life, how they know you and other important things. Like age, sex, where they work and live.

Will fight people. Just not in front of you because you don't deserve to see that. When you're not there, he will not be seen by anyone in the public eye. People that hit on him get ignored completely or told off in a very rude way.

When you give him attention? He's soaking up every single piece of it and even tries to pull so much more out of you. Worships your body, every single action you take, every word that leaves your lips and even just loves when you're just being. You being present is enough to send him over the edge. Period.

Gojo

No one else matters but you. Only you and him exist in his universe. Where you live, what you've done in your life and what you two plan to do together later in life are the only things that matter to him. Don't ever mention hypothetical scenarios where you and him break up because it will never ever fucking happen, don't even try it.

When someone breaks the space between the two of you, he will not hesitate to intimidate him. That american type of angry. Stare them down, size them up, back them into a corner type of pissed. Won't give a fuck. If he has to eradicate someone in front of everyone, so be it.

Loves to stare at you. You're all he sees. If you're mad at someone, don't worry. They'll be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow. Everything revolves around what you want, what you need, and what can become possible with him at your side.

Geto

Him and Yuuta are the most similar at what type of worship they bring to the table. Please. He will give you all of his body, time, soul, every damn thing. Just take it. He doesn't care. Have eeeevery piece of him.

Wake up and he's there asking what you need, and he's there at night cradling you to sleep. Hates taking you outside because of those monkeys surrounding you, ruining your personal bubble and stinking the air. It's so easy for you to calm him down when he gets riled up. Just the thought of you being taken away from him by a monkey just pisses him off to no end.

He loves seeing you with his girls. It really makes his heart light and his stomach bubble with happiness. You are everything he's ever hoped for. So strong, so smart, so caring and selfless. You deserve the sun and moon being put in your arms just to keep you happy.

You deserve everything. He'll find a way to get you everything you deserve and more. Just give him a little time to do so.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Flying Home from Venice - Drew Starkey Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Drew x Secret!Girlfriend

⭐️republished & changed slightly for Venice⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Drew likes to keep his private life private, but his girlfriend (reader) is ready for more.

🪄 warnings: Pet names, public fingering, jealousy, teasing, language, & smut

✨ You roll your eyes, turning your chest into his. “That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble. “So… No girlfriend privileges I guess. Correct? Just two random people innocently sharing a blanket in the dark, Starkey?“ You whisper against his lips. ✨

1k

Reader’s POV:

“Baby?” Drew breathes. “You okay?” He asks gently; lips pressing against your shoulder as you snuggle close.

“Yeah… I’m just fine.”

“Fine?” He chuckles, weakly. “We’ve been together long enough. Fine is not fine.”

“I don’t know,” you grumble as you readjust yourself in his arms. Drew doesn’t let you stray away, pulling you closer to his chest.

“C’mon, honey. Or, I’m not gonna leave you alone.”

“I just – did you not know that I brought a dress?”

“Of course, I did. The black one you wore to dinner. Couldn’t get enough of you in it… We didn’t even stay for dessert.”

“It wasn’t for dinner, Drew. It was for the event…” You whisper, feeling heat rise in your cheeks. “I thought you were taking me to this one.”

“Baby… M’sorry,” he mumbles; kissing your neck gently. “I like to keep you safe. I don’t wanna hear what people think about you and me. I like our privacy. Don’t you?”

“It’s fine…”

“It’s not… You deserve to be shown off. Alright?” He coos, lessening the space between you even more.

“You didn’t even send me pictures before the event… Had to stand by like the rest of your fangirls.”

He chuckles lowly, tickling your ear; driving you crazy; setting off a steady pulse between your thighs. “Just hope you’re not stringin’ me along. ‘Cause we’re snuggled up on this plane. You don’t think anyone will see us here? Spread a little gossip?”

“Nah… S’dark, baby,” he mumbles as his hands roam your curves under your shared blanket. “For all they know I met you today.”

You roll your eyes, turning your chest into his. “That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble. “So… No girlfriend privileges I guess. Correct? Just two random people innocently sharing a blanket in the dark, Starkey?“ You whisper against his lips.

“Completely innocent,” he soughs, his soft lips skimming yours. You reach for your book light, flicking it on, setting it down on the seat next to you.

“No touching then, stranger.”

“Wait. What?” He asks confusedly

“Guess you’re just going to have to watch.” You slink your hands down your body, drawing your sweatpants down past your hips; you rake your hands up, lifting your t-shirt and bra, exposing your breasts under the blanket. Only your lace panties remain.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans his eyes drift up your body slowly, landing on your lips. You slip two fingers in your mouth, sucking roughly. Drew’s mouth parts, watching you carefully.

“Don’t look, baby. You’re a stranger. S’not polite.”

“You said I’d have to watch.”

“My face, Drew. Do you think I’d let you watch anything else?” Your eyes rest on his as your fingers meet your warmth, a visible change in your face. Drew inhales, fighting his urge to lift the blanket as you start to stroke.

You close your eyes softly, fingers dancing on your clit, slipping through your folds. Drew moves slightly, you know he’s looking, you let him for a moment. Just enough time, that he can see what he’s missing out on.

Your eyes open. “Stop looking, Drew,” you warn.

“Seriously?” You feel his fingers reach your hip.

“Excuse me, sir I don’t know,” you tease, taking a hold of his hand; moving it away.

“Shit, honey,” he groans, feeling the wetness on your fingers.

“You know what you have to do, Drew.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sighs. “I really am.”

“Mhmm… And?”

“You should have been there with me.”

“F-Fuck.. And?”

Drew can see the pleasure increasing on your face. His eyebrows furrow in desperation, searching for the words you’re waiting for.

“The OBX premiere. You’re goin’. Okay. W-With me. Please, sweetheart. Toronto Film Festival? Whatever you want. I want you there with me, baby. M’sorry.”

“There you go, Starkey,” you giggle breathily.

Drew pushes the fabric of your panties to the side. He dips a thick finger between your folds, teasing your entrance as he swirls through your essence. You can tell he’s taking his time, wanting you to come down from your excitement a little so he can be the one that takes you there.

His rough fingertips graze over your clit, already sensitive from the work you were putting in, you buck your hips in response. “Settle down, baby,” he teases against your lips. Drew’s arm weaves around the small of your waist to hold you in place.

He glides a finger in, just one, but it’s enough to get the response he’s looking for. A soft moan escapes your lips, landing in his. “Damn, you’re wet,” he chuckles. You smile against his lips, tracing your fingers over his clothed cock. “Do you hear how wet you are, sweetie?” He asks, you nod in reply. “With all these people around?”

“Mmm… D-Drew,” you whine.

“Fuck. Are you gonna cum on my hand, baby?” He grunts, his fingers working into an upward curl. Your eyes shut tighter as you hold back your cries of pleasure. Drew can see that he found something you like—something you need. He strikes your g-spot spot, his thumb, rolling on your clit.

“Right there,” you whisper. “Oh my god,” your mouth, drawing yourself close as you flutter around his fingers, your orgasm radiating through your body. You press your mouth onto his shoulder, holding back your blissful sounds, making a mess of his hand.

“Shit, baby” He groans, kissing your cheek softly. “How was that?”

“So…So good,” you praise. You draw a deep, laborious breath, looking back at him lovingly.

He pulls you in for a breathless kiss, letting you come down from your high, tongue reeling with yours as he continues to caress your curves. “M’next?”

“‘Course you are,” you hum against his lips. He kisses your face, your scrunched nose and cheeks, before landing on your lips again. “You know… It was just a joke. Alright? I don’t want to put any pressure on you to take me to stuff. It was fun getting to watch all the little edits and stalk you on Tumblr. Ya know… Like I used to,” you whisper, through a breathy laugh, causing him to do the same.

“You’re fuckin’ cute,” he sighs.

“The button-down was giving, Rafe Cameron.”

“That was for you,” he chuckles.

“Truly, Drew. I like keeping things private too.”

“No, baby. M’ready.” He mumbles against your lips, meeting yours for a tender kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”