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wheels-of-despair · 19 days

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Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You join the gals on a mission below decks, officially meet Ralph, and have a crisis of conscience! Words: 3.3k

"Are you going to sleep all day?"

"Yes," you grumble into your fluffy pillow, wishing your aunt would move along and let you finish a wonderful dream about dancing.

"You can sleep when you get home, come on!"

You keep your eyes shut, clinging to the last wisps of your dream. You want to see his face. To know whose arms were wrapped around you, floating with you across the dance floor like you were weightless.

A smack to your rear plucks you from the dream world and drops you back into your cabin. The lights are on, and your aunt stands above you impatiently.

"Good morning, sunshine. Ready for breakfast?"

You groan and haul yourself out of bed. The next hour is spent making yourselves presentable. The hour after that? Eating a breakfast that, you have to admit, was worth getting out of bed for.

After a walk around the promenade, your aunt drags you to the swimming pool. You find the concept a bit odd, but how often does one get to swim aboard a ship sailing on the ocean?

You didn't really know what to expect, given that it was the first of its kind, but the swimming pool was fabulous. It was much larger than you'd imagined it would be, and over five feet deep. You happily swapped your dress for a rented swimming costume and spent over an hour splashing around with other curious ladies.

Titanic was scheduled to stop near Ireland to pick up a few new passengers just before midday, and it would be the last land anyone saw for days. You didn't want to miss it. You and Aunt Molly went to the deck and sat in the sun as you watched the ship approach the coast. You stayed there until time for lunch, then went below deck to have another wonderful meal. The time seemed to fly by.

Molly decided to stay and chat with the ladies after lunch, so you went back to watch the departure from Queenstown by yourself. It had grown windier, but you didn't mind the fresh air. You wrapped your arms around yourself and stared at the land in the distance, wondering if you'd ever see it again.

This may be your last grand adventure. It had been a wonderful trip, and you'd been lucky enough to experience a great many things that most people would never get to. But were you really ready to go back home and resume your normal life? To plan a traditional wedding and be an obedient wife and an attentive mother in the little town you'd grown up in? Forever?

"What are you doing up here all alone?"

You whip your head around to see Victoria, Georgina, and the girls from your table last night. Your face breaks into a smile.

"I'm just taking one last look at Ireland. It's the last land we'll see until we reach New York."

"How dreadfully boring!" Victoria laughs. "Come with us, we're going below to pick out a peasant for Nora!"

A girl in the back of the group blushes, and you recognize her as last night's loser; the final dance partner of Victoria's brother.

"Alright," you smile, falling into step as the group proceeds inside to the elevators. Victoria secures directions to the third class accommodations from the lift attendant - who warns her away from the unpolished people below - but she reminds him that she paid for the privileges of a first class passenger, and can go wherever she damn well pleases. You aren't sure if that's truly the case or not, but it seemed to convince the nervous operator. You split into two groups and ride the lifts down into the belly of the ship.

Victoria leads the way to the third class lounge with determination. When you enter, the room falls silent.

"Alright, Jane," Victoria orders, "Pick one!"

Jane scans the faces beginning to whisper, and points at a man you'd imagine to be Italian and in his 60s, sitting at a table playing cards. "That one!"

The girls giggle. You feel like you're in a zoo. Only, you're one of the animals. Every pair of eyes in the room is on the group of first class girls who'd come down to gawk.

"Go on!" Victoria grabs Nora's shoulders and pushes her forward. The girl stumbles at first, but finds her footing and marches right up to the elderly stranger, bends at the waist, and kisses him. She stands and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, smudging her lipstick slightly, and returns to the group triumphantly.

They howl and cackle and congratulate her.

You wish you'd slept in.

The man sits there in a daze. You wonder what might be going through his head. A strange rich woman, just walking up and kissing you on the mouth? That surely doesn't happen every day.

A little boy, walking like he'd just learned how, wobbles toward the group and distracts you from your discomfort. You watch curiously, wondering what he's after. He reaches for Victoria's dress, which is covered with shiny metallic beads.

She sees him coming and leaps back with a squeal, snatching her dress out of his grasp. He giggles and wobbles faster, thinking she's playing a game with him.

Victoria keeps backing away, elbowing her way through the gaggle of other girls. When they spot him, they scramble and take off in the opposite direction, like the child is diseased. He pouts when they disappear from sight without playing with him. You wish you had something to give him; a trinket, a flower, anything to show the poor child that at least one of you is a human with a beating heart.

His mother rushes over to snatch him up, giving you a frightful glare, and you rush down the hall in search of the girls you'd arrived with.

"It's so disgusting down here, I need fresh air and a clean dress," is the first thing you hear from Victoria, who hasn't even noticed you were missing.

Everyone follows her back to the lifts. You bring up the rear. Nora the Loser is dismissed, and sent back to wherever the other girls competing for Ralph's affection - and a "heart-wrenchingly expensive" necklace, you'd recently learned - were spending their time.

You want to retreat and find a book, or go exploring on your own, but the devil on your shoulder tells you to stay. How often does an opportunity to observe the idle rich present itself, after all? Even if they are "heart-wrenchingly" horrible? Perhaps you'll write a book about them someday.

You step onto the promenade deck and breathe in the ocean air, feeling better already. The group walks in a slow circle around the ship, and you listen to the girls gossip about fashion and other passengers and the like. You didn't have a lot to contribute, but they didn't seem to mind.

Eventually, they stop for refreshments in the Café Parisien, a lovely room full of comfortable wicker chairs and ivy-covered trellises. When the gossip turns to white noise, and you take in the details of the decor. You've been to so many breathtaking places on your vacation, but somehow, this brand new ship seems just as wonderful as architectural wonders that have been standing for thousands of years. You could wander this ship for a lifetime and still not notice all the fine details.

"Hello!"

An enthusiastic voice breaks you out of your reverie, and you turn to face the smiling young man at Victoria's side. Right. Her brother, Ralph. The object of many young ladies' affections.

"Hello!" You can't quite match his tone, but you return his smile as best you can. He beams, like no one has ever said hello to him before. His big brown eyes twinkle with excitement, and you wonder if his dimpled cheeks are starting to hurt. It's absolutely adorable.

"Down, Ralph!" Victoria snaps. "She's not for you!"

His face falls, your heart pangs. The poor boy shifts bashfully and stares at the ground.

"It's nearly time to dress for dinner," he says quietly. "You said you wanted to pick out my outfit."

Victoria smirks. "Go to your room and wait for me."

He retreats without a word. You watch his slumped shoulders exit the café doors and wonder what happened to the happy boy who was dancing with different dames all night. He seems like a different person now. Why does he let her boss him around like this? Victoria turns to make sure he's gone, and then leans in conspiratorially. All the girls at the table mirror her.

"Do you want to know what tonight's task is?"

The girls hold their breath and wait.

"They'll have to kiss him! The last person to do so will have to go down below and invite a steerage rat to dinner in the lounge!"

The girls gasp and cover their gaping mouths.

"In public?"

"Where they'll be seen?"

"Oh, Victoria, that's simply wretched!"

"I know!" she says smugly, leaning back in her chair and popping a pastry in her mouth.

The girls giggle, but your excitement about being included is definitely beginning to wane. Is this fair to the man who will be chosen to be part of their spectacle? Could he refuse a first class lady? Would it be fair to Victoria's brother, who was being used for their amusement?

"Alright, let's go dress for dinner," Victoria orders, draining her glass and standing. Everyone else follows suit. "Wait until you see the awful thing I'm going to put Ralph in, you're all going to die laughing!"

You broke from the group to go back to your cabin and dress for dinner with Aunt Molly. You helped each other into fresh outfits and returned to the saloon for another exceptional meal that helped take your mind off the girls you'd escaped. They'd all gone to the À la Carte Restaurant, but you told them that you'd promised your aunt that you would join her for dinner. It wasn't a lie; you just didn't tell them that she would've happily sent you off with people your own age. But you didn't want to. You needed a break from them.

By the time the dessert plates were removed, you thought you might give socializing one last try. This was a rare opportunity for you, after all. And if nothing else, it would make you appreciate being ignored by the other girls like them when you returned home.

You excuse yourself from the dining saloon and return to the lounge, arriving just in time to see Nora pull Ralph to the dance floor. Last night's loss has clearly not disqualified her from continuing the game.

"There she is! You missed all the fun," Georgina pouts, pulling you into the chair next to her. "I stalled Ralph so Victoria could tell the girls about the new incentive she thought of during dinner: Take Ralph to bed and keep him out of Victoria's hair for a full twenty-four hours, and you'll get to spend the rest of the trip with us! Look how she's hanging all over him!"

Your eyes drift back to Ralph and Nora. He's telling her something, and she's laughing frequently and loudly. Touching him as much as she can get away with in public. It's all fake. He can see that, right?

"Does Ralph know that he's playing a game?" you ask.

"No!" Georgina laughs. "It's just a bit of fun. He's hopeless and pathetic. They're bored and loose. Victoria's a genius, don't you think?" You open your mouth as if to answer, and then think better of it. Georgina notices your change in mood. "Don't you realize how lucky you are? Other girls are willing to be defiled by him for a chance to walk the promenade with us. You got in free of charge!"

This is why you never fit in with the girls at home; because they're exactly like Victoria and her gang. Scheming wretches who only care about social status, or money, or the latest fashion, or today's gossip, or having fun at someone else's expense. They don't care about people, or feelings, or things that actually matter. They're just like your mother. You'd rather be alone than be part of this.

You get up without another word and exit through the nearest door. It's chilly out, but it's better than being in there. You walk until you reach an open section of deck and find a bench. You sit for a moment, staring at the bright stars. It's so peaceful out here.

You lie down, stretching out across half of the double-sided bench, and stare upward so that all you see is the night sky. The stars look so much clearer than they do at home. Is it because there are no city lights to interfere with them? Or has your world really changed so much, that even the stars look different now?

You lie there and ponder until you hear footsteps and giggling. Pick another bench, you beg silently. Just keep walking.

"Here we are," a man announces before two bodies come to rest on the other side of your bench. Do you get up and leave? Pretend you're not here? What if they notice you? Should you pretend to be asleep?

You hear them kiss, and wish you could roll off of this bench and land two decks below.

"Dearest," the girl purrs. "Do you think you could show me your stateroom?"

"My stateroom?" the man asks.

You know that voice.

"Yes," she breathes, probably in his ear. "I bet it's fabulous."

"But… but…" he protests.

"I'd like to show you something," she whispers suggestively.

"Wh-what would you like to show me?" he stutters.

"Shhhh. It's a secret."

His breath hitches. You wonder where her hands are, and wish you were literally anywhere else.

"D-don't you think we ought to get to know each other first?" he asks nervously.

"I know all I need to know, lovey," she purrs.

You sense a shift on the other side of the bench, like he's trying to slide away. He yelps. She laughs her stupid fake laugh again.

You scoff.

And then you freeze.

You didn't mean to.

If discovered, you planned on pretending to be asleep.

But two heads peek over the top of the bench at you. You're caught. Do you apologize, or go on the offensive?

"What is it that you know about him?" you ask. Offensive it is.

"Pardon me?" she asks.

You sit up. "This person you've shared a whole two dances with. What do you know about him?"

"Plenty of things!"

"Such as?"

The question seems to stun her. And of course it does; he's only a pawn in a silly little game, isn't he?

"The reason he's on board? His favorite course during tonight's dinner?" She stares blankly. "Here's an easy one: What color are his eyes?"

She glances at him before answering: "Blue, obviously."

You might laugh if the brown-eyed boy sitting next to her on the dark bench beneath the stars didn't look so crushed.

"Do you even like him?"

"Of course I do!" she insists, hand over her heart as if you've offended her to the very core.

"Then why don't you tell him what you're really after? Or would you rather wait twenty-four hours and let him find out on his own? Would that be more fun for you?"

You run out of steam when you glance toward Ralph and see the recognition dawning on his face.

"Nora?" he asks pitifully. "Is this a game?"

She scoffs and gets off the bench, stomping back toward the lounge. You and Ralph are left alone.

"I'm sorry, Ralph," you tell him gently.

His head hangs, and your "sorry" doesn't seem like enough.

"I'm sorry that they treat you this way, and I'm sorry that I didn't speak up sooner. It's not fair, what they were doing to you."

He shakes his head. "I should know better by now. No one will ever really want me."

"I'm sure that's not true," you argue.

"It is," he sniffles. "Everyone knows it. I'm annoying and pathetic and no one will ever want me. Even my own twin says so."

Twin? Victoria is his twin, and still treating him this way? Your heart breaks for the poor boy.

"I know that I haven't known you for very long, but would you like to know what I think?"

He peeks up at you curiously through his wet lashes, so you continue.

"I think you're a handsome young man with a big heart and a nice smile," you begin slowly. "One day, you will find someone who deserves you. And she won't give a damn what your sister, or anyone else, has to say about you. Because her love will be real, and that will be all that matters."

He ducks his head and wipes away a tear.

"And you're a terrific dancer, too," you add to lighten the mood.

"Thank you," he chuckles, as another tear streaks down his cheek.

"You've ruined everything!" The shrill voice of Victoria cuts through the night like a knife aimed directly at your eardrums.

A crowd has gathered to see who's ruined everyone's fun. Victoria and Georgina are leading the pack. They stand square-shouldered and glare like you've ruined their lives rather than a stupid game. You wonder if you should get up and curtsy.

"We trusted you!" "We treated you like one of us!" "This is what we get for associating with people who clearly do not belong in first class!" Their voices overlap, but you get the gist. They stand there expectantly, as if waiting for an apology.

You give them a shrug.

"Ugh!" Victoria spins and stomps back toward the lounge. Georgina follows, and then the rest of their herd.

You let out a slow breath when they disappear from view. Where do you go from here? You and Ralph sit in silence until you can't stand it anymore.

"Well…" you chuckle. "I supposed I should get to bed, before they decide to come back and toss me into the sea."

"May I walk you?" Ralph asks, trying to dry his eyes subtly as he rises from his side of the bench.

"You don't have to do that," you smile.

"A lady ought not be wandering alone at nighttime, even on a ship as grand as this," he says, puffing his chest out in an attempt to appear broader than he is.

"If you insist?"

He nods and holds his arm out. You take it gently.

"I'm sharing a cabin with my aunt on A-Deck."

Ralph nods in acknowledgement and leads you the long way around instead of to the door you'd both recently come out of.

The walk passes in silence.

"This is it," you say quietly, turning to face him when you reach your door. "Thank you for the escort, Mr… I'm afraid I don't know your surname."

"Penbury," he supplies with a sad smile. "But please call me Ralph."

"Ralph it is, then." You introduce yourself, thank him once more, and he leans down to kiss the back of your hand like a gentleman who hasn't just had his heart broken.

"Good night, kind sir," you whisper when he stands.

"Good night, lovely lady," he whispers back.

You step inside your room, close the door, and listen to him walk away before getting dressed for bed.

#writings of despair #ralphtanic #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury x reader #ralph timewasters #this is it. this is the chapter that had this series hung up for a year.#and yes. yes i did spend another 3 hours trying to iron it out today #but it's DONE it's OUT THERE and i promise things will be more fun tomorrow

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 8 months

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This is very good point of view from someone who is active on Instagram. 30k followers is a decent amount and worth investing by smaller brands. This person knows what she/he is talking about.

You have to pay for reach too, which will be an additional cost.

The bigger IG influencers have multi-pronged strategies that include reality shows (Georgina, Tamara Falco, Kardashians), scripted shows, blogs, YouTube, fashion mags, etc… That’s what I expected Meghan to do. IG alone won’t cut it.

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 5 months

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OC Masterlist

Band of Brothers

Valerie Harmon - Once a bright-eyed university student, fascinated by all things art history, Valerie's life in France is thrown into chaos by the Nazi invasion, severing her from her family back in Vermont. A chance encounter with an Easy Company Captain reignites previously forgotten hopes of ever seeing home again, but even this is not without its trials.

Camille Whitney - Following the death of her youngest brother on the Western Front, Camille puts her nurse training to use and accompanies Easy Company on their journey through Europe. Utterly family-oriented, she finds new brothers in the men around her, but none could replace the one she has lost.

Marcie Clark - Growing up in San Francisco threw Marcie into the path of Joseph Liebgott, her childhood sweetheart and first love. But after circumstance and prejudice push them apart, it takes a war to reconcile their friendship as what it really is - a romance that never truly faded.

Faye Warren - An aspiring journalist, driven by the legacy of her father, Faye finds frustration in her line of work, constrained by the expectations thrust upon female writers. In a last act of desperation, she chases a story all the way from London to Nazi-occupied France, hoping to find an opportunity amongst the men of Easy Company.

The Pacific

Anna March - After her family is rocked by horrendous tragedy, Anna finds herself permanently changed by the time her childhood friend, Eugene Sledge, returns from war. Both irrevocably scarred by the events of the last few years, they must come to terms with the new people before them whilst still struggling with old, long buried feelings.

SAS: Rogue Heroes

Diana Fayed - Adopted out of poverty by an infamous army general, Diana’s whole life has revolved around proving her worth and becoming the soldier her father believes she can be. Overlooked and dismissed by her superiors, she finally finds a place among the unruly ranks of the newly formed L Detachment, a group that will prove to be her biggest challenge yet.

Masters of The Air

Frances 'Frankie' Bevan - A qualified aircraft mechanic and member of the WAAF, Frankie has spent her entire youth fascinated by all things mechanical. Her latest posting at Thorpe Abbotts promises to be no different from her previous jobs at first, but the 100th Bomb Group are nothing like the RAF pilots she's used to, and Frankie's about to learn that the pain of war will find you no matter where you are.

Georgina 'George' Aarons - Frankie's best friend and a telegraph operator at Thorpe Abbotts, George's budding romance with the pilot Curtis Biddick was only ever going to end in tragedy.

Susie Lamb - A Captain and driver in the Auxiliary Territorial Service, Susie has a reputation for being perhaps the most disliked woman in all of Thorpe Abbotts. However, as the sixth of eight children from a near-impoverished family, it becomes alarmingly clear that the answers to her present lay in her past, and she's not quite the woman everyone thinks she is.

Gwen Dastrup - Chicago native and daughter to Danish immigrants, Gwen's dreams of becoming a published historian are dashed by the breakout of war, and she volunteers with the Red Cross, becoming a clubmobile girl at Thorpe Abbotts. But when she catches the attention of John Brady and RAF Captain Michael Fenton, she is torn between choosing the man she loves and the easiest route to achieving the career she's always aspired to.

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treason-and-plot · 1 year

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[previous- naughty version]

[previous- nice version]

“Thank you, my darling,” says Georgina. “I’m in a much better mood now. The prospect of having lunch with Mother is much more bearable after multiple orgasms!”

“You’re welcome,” says Vinnie, his eyes crinkling with love and amusement.

“I just hope she’s finally gotten the message that we don’t want her interfering in any of the wedding planning.”

“I think she might have, after you threw all those magazines she’d bought in the bin and told her that you’d rather get married in a piggery,” says Vinnie with a gruff rumble of laughter. “The look on her face was worth bottling.”

Bunty had dropped round last weekend with an armful of Bridal magazines and had breathlessly announced to Georgina and Vinnie that friends of hers from tennis owned a gorgeous wedding venue surrounded by olive groves that could cater for over two hundred people, and she had arranged for them all to go and have a look at it that very afternoon! This was a few days after Georgina had told her firmly that she and Vinnie just wanted a simple garden wedding at home with no more than twenty guests. Bunty also refused to believe that Georgina didn’t want a designer wedding gown, nor a honeymoon, and all week she had been spamming Georgina’s email with pictures of wedding dresses and links to various exotic travel destinations. So it really wasn’t any wonder that Georgina had finally snapped. Bunty had told her that she was selfish and ungrateful and that she would never try to help her with anything ever again! Then she had flounced out, slamming the front door behind her, gravel flying under her tyres as she sped away up the driveway. A few days later she had phoned Georgina and invited her to lunch at the Golf Club today as if nothing had happened.

“You know what would make lunch with Mother even more bearable?” says Georgina now to Vinnie. ”If you came along too.”

“I’ve got too much to do here, Girl. The whole vineyard floor needs composting.“

“So you’d literally rather shovel shit than have lunch with my mother,” says Georgina.

“Those are your words, not mine,” says Vinnie, another deep growl of laughter escaping from his granite-like jaw.

#Vinnie #Georgina #vigina #interlude in appaloosa #5 years later #sims 3 #ts3

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maxverstepponme · 1 year

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I'm a bit late to the party, I was waiting for everything to be out before judging. [it's long but I think worth reading it]

the way you choose to be represented is very important and has always been because it's a powerful tool -the way kings represented themselves in painting, dictators or presidents for their official portrait is really important and says a lot about them. here, Kelly, her agency and the editor-in-chief decided that it was a good idea to appropriate the usual representation of drivers: the helmet on the cover, the racing suit, cars visible on almost every pictures and filming the promotional video inside a garage and filming her driving a car with a racing helmet/suit, justified by the narrative of «she can because she's the daughter of a world champion and the partner of a world champion/F1 driver so it's part of who she is» but it makes no sense because Kelly isn't a racing driver and more importantly, don't want to be a driver, she wants to be a model and made it clear on her interview, so why using something foreing for «her» cover and moment? it was a prime opportunity to go beyond the «someone's partner, someone's girlfriend». and it doesn't make sense either with her persona: she never wears anything motorsports related, hardly post about it if it's not Max and don't seem to follow any other racing categories than F1 -she doesn't look like a motorsports fan that would attend many racing events or closely follow races/championships and doesn't fit her instagram vibe:

the photoshoot that «represents her because racing is part of her identity» / her instagram feed (without Vogue recent photos) > 1 thing racing related: going to see her boyfriend race/Louis Vuitton ad

something I find interesting: out of all the picture posted by @.kellypiquetsource, she choose to post on her own account only the ones linked to motorsports, not the ones next to the swimming pool that are more model-like. most people won't buy the magazine, so they will link Kelly Piquet to racing because of the promotional video and the way she appropriate the codes of racing. if I'm being honest, if I see this magazine in a store, I won't think she's just a model on the cover of a magazine because when someone's name is clearly visible on the cover and is linked to a sport, it means that the person is know in this sport. for example: (there is not a lot because athlete usually do more model-like shootings if it's not a sports magazine) but we can mention these:

Simone Biles for Times 2021 (I don't think I need to present her 😅) / Pusarla Venkata Sindhu on the left, a badminton player that got a silver medal at the 2016 Rio OG, known in India, here for Harper's Bazaar in 2021

the cover choice of Vogue NL really looks like one of photos of the Harper's Bazaar Arabia featuring Amna Al Qubaisi — link to the article because it's really interesting (and the photos are breathtaking) and clearly, there is no difference in the structure of the cover than the 2 previous magazine cover, when the 3 other than Kelly are professionnal athletes. you can genuinely thinks she's a racing driver.

Kelly's cover / Amna Al Qubaisi for Harper's Bazaar Arabia of Novemeber 2022 - she drives in the regional F3

here the covers of 2 females drivers in not-motorsports magazine: we see the leather jacket and helmet for Susie and the racing suit and gloves for Jamie (when the other girls are wearing dresses) -helmet, leather jacket, suit and gloves are really linked to motorsports and say «that person is a driver» and were used by Vogue to link Kelly to motorsports.

Susie Wolff in 2014 for The Weekly Review (lifestyle magazine) / Jamie Chadwick for Asian Wealth in 2018 (lifestyle magazine)

2 other example: Georgina Rodriguez magazine covers (she had them and a career thanks to be being Cristiano Ronaldo girlfriend so it makes sense to compare the two) it's very fashion and not related to football at all because she tries to build her own persona (and her Netflix show is going on the same direction -I didn't watch it but that was the idea of it I think 😅) her name is not in the middle and she looks like any not-famous model you can see on magazines. the other example is Zhou that, like Lewis did (but as we always talk about him I choose my beloved Guanyu instead, so many people sleep on him 😅) choose to not use the usual racing codes you can see on motorsports magazine. nothing is racing oriented, you can't think he's a F1 driver when you look at the cover, it's really fashion oriented.

screenshot of a Google research for their name + «magazine cover»

here, I put 4 covers of Vogue Netherlands featuring models without their names on the cover so they choose to represent Kelly as a known person because her name is really visible, known in the racing world because it's not fashion photos and the racing world is everywhere, and as a driver because there are all the codes of racing. on the other collage, I put 4 athletes on Vogue covers: Lovlina Borgohain, (a professional boxer), Naomi Osaka, Neymar and Serena Williams > none of them, like Zhou, used their sports for their image when it's their whole life and the reason they're known (I don't forget about Gisele she's just not the subject here)

on the left: Vogue NL February 2012/December 2019/June 2021/May 2021 / on the right: Vogue India October 2021 / Vogue January 2021 / Vogue Brazil May 2014 / Vogue February 2018

I honestly don't think it's dramatic she got a cover that way but I was expecting a fashion photoshoot to back what she keeps trying to do: becoming a model -I don't consider having done 2 professional shootings for magazines and invited to less than 5 shows in 1 year being a model), but not a full racing photoshoot. she keeps saying motorsports is part of her life, but where? she didn't mention in the interview the only thing she did in the sport: working for the communication of FE. I really dislike the fact that she used codes that aren't hers only for a shooting because she don't care about racing, so it makes no sense, and if Vogue wanted to put a racer on the cover, they just call one or hire models but they don't make someone that never drove a racing car a «female in motorsports» because real woman in motorsports are hardly given any screentime or attention, struggle so hard to have sponsors to drive and face so much sexism -it makes me sick that any wag has more followers and attention than female racing drivers, or that people cares about the woman working in motorsports only if they're pretty. this is a prime example of it, because she's not just «a model», they made her part of the few woman that worked so hard to be there, when she never did.

she's «more known» as a model, they should have stick with that and focus the article on fashion (especially when people say to defend her «it's a fashion magazine» well, then how do you explain that athletes on the covers talk about their career and journey on «fashion magazine» interviews? plus she has a rather good fashion sense and worked in the field before, and it would have fueled her career as a model. and the interview wasn't even about fashion at all, but her private with Max. that being said, the way they promoted the article here (I can't put the screenshot, it's only 10 media/you can translate it with google) clearly shows that she's a side character on this: on the cover because of Max -I guess they wanted a couple shot like the ones below- and about racing because of her dad. about her dad, it's ridiculous and disgusting that Vogue could shot at his house and casually mention him and put his name on their magazine but the police can't find him when there is an enquiry about him for being racist, without forgetting about his nazi salute, the fact he threatened the new president but we put his name and house on display???

iconic Gigi Hadid and Zayn Malik cover Vogue August 2017 / and lovely cover of Achraf Hakimi (Psg player) and Hiba Abouk (Spanish actress) Vogue Arabia October 2022

thank you for reading, it was really long, I'm sorry 🫶🏻 there's a lot more to say, but this shows that people aren't unhappy about the «@nlvogue January/February 2023 Cover Girl» because they just randomly decided they don't like Kelly, there is reason for people saying they should have chosen a female driver. and of course, what she said in the interview that we already talked about here

Thank you so much for this nonnie! To the tag it goes in case someone else finds it interesting too.

#kelly piquet

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gatheringbones · 7 months

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[“It is worth remembering that there is an intrinsic class tension in all workplaces – between the interests of managers or owners, and the interests of workers. The structural role of managers and owners is to extract as much profit as possible from the labour of employees. In theory, decriminalisation brought sex workers’ workplaces in New Zealand up to the legal level of other workplaces in terms of workers’ access to rights and safety.

This is not to say, however, that decriminalisation has eliminated exploitation, any more than other workplaces (for example, restaurants or construction companies) are free of exploitation simply because they are not criminalised. Decriminalisation cannot wash away class conflict between the interests of management and employees; instead, it aims to mitigate the intense workplace exploitation that is propped up and fuelled by criminalisation.

To be able to work indoors with friends without fearing arrest adds to a worker’s power in their relationship with their manager. Ultimately, if they need to, the worker can leave and work with friends. This power is reflected in the data: since New Zealand implemented decriminalisation, fewer people are working for managers; more are working in shared flats with friends. (Managers even complain about this!) When working together is criminalised, predators can use the threat of arrest against workers, as we’ve seen throughout this book. In contrast, workers in New Zealand’s small co-op workplaces are not vulnerable to violent men using the law against them in this way. As a worker in this set-up told the Prostitution Law Reform Committee, ‘I feel more confident now I know I’ve got rights … there’s no fear now of being caught by police. It was difficult when I was younger. I felt like a criminal, and was less assertive.’ Petal, another private worker, says,

I just think the biggest thing with the law change is … emotional support for the girls to say, ‘Yeah, you’re not doing anything wrong … you’re only doing a job.’ I think that’s the biggest thing … saying it’s not illegal … that’s what I like about the law. It’s supportive.

New Zealand implemented some additional forms of regulation which – unlike German or Dutch laws – are designed with the benefit of sex workers in mind, rather than profiteering, control, or punishment. For example, one provision of the Prostitution Reform Act stipulates that if a sex worker wishes to leave the sex industry, they can access Social Security immediately, without facing the temporary penalty to which they would have been subject had they ‘voluntarily’ left another job. How did this come to be?

In 1988, the New Zealand government started funding a newly formed sex worker led group: the New Zealand Collective of Prostitutes. The NZPC was funded as a health-promotion group; its founding basis was that sex workers should be able to ‘take control of their own health programmes as much as possible in order to determine the direction those programmes should take’. The NZPC immediately identified the criminalisation of prostitution as a serious problem in the lives of sex workers and pressured the government to set up a committee to investigate decriminalisation. Throughout the 1990s, the NZPC worked on bringing their bill to Parliament; in 2000, MP Tim Barnett brought forward a proposal to decriminalise sex work. It passed in 2003, significantly helped by the intervention of MP Georgina Beyer, a Māori trans woman and former street-based sex worker. Beyer told Parliament, ‘It would have been nice to know that … I might have been able to approach the authorities and say: “I was raped, and, yes, I’m a prostitute, and, no, it was not right that I should have been raped.”’

The law was shaped by sex workers themselves. Beyond any one specific regulation, this was crucial – the extensive involvement of sex workers in putting together the law and the focus on the safety of people who sell sex are what distinguish decriminalisation from other legal models. Indeed, the text of the PRA describes its first priority as being to ‘safeguard the human rights of sex workers’. It is extremely unusual for legislation that deals with the sex industry to explicitly conceive of people who sell sex as having rights at all, other than the right to be rescued from being ‘sold’.]

molly smith, juno mac, from revolting prostitutes: the fight for sex workers’ rights, 2018

#molly smith #juno mac #history stuff #currently reading #cw rape

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upontherisers · 11 days

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ooh, could i request 12 and/or 13 for your choice of oc please? —@shoshiwrites

(from this lovely askbox meme)

12. We all have somewhere we retreat in our heads to calm down - a happy place. Describe that place for your character - a physical location or a time or place they felt safe or at ease.

For Georgina Webster, it's her father's study.

It's a surprisingly modest space for a man of C. Terrence Webster's renown, with a humble oak desk and typewriter, his worn chair, and two bookshelves along the back wall. The sun flows in from the east from the morning into the late afternoon and the air is hazy after twenty-years worth of pipe smoke. It’s relatively bare of decoration but full of his character—with pictures from his years in Africa and Georgie’s childhood and piles upon piles of correspondence from his fellow writers and academics.

It’s a shrine to the power of the written word, the mind in action, and it’s been Georgie’s favorite place for as long as she can remember. He used to sit her on his lap while he wrote and told her about the world and its turns, her mother protesting that she was far too young to understand. But she wasn’t.

The study is where she received her first typewriter and met the greatest thinkers of a generation and first aspired to become one herself. She was never shot down, admonished, or made to feel unintelligent within those four walls. She’d come to know every book and essay almost as well as her father, adding creases and cracks to the well-loved spines arranged in his particular system. It was where she ran after fights with her mother and after arguments with imaginative professors. It was where she slept, in the pool of sunlight on the rug under the window, with Mister Hemingway the cat.

That study holds the truth about life even now, and Georgie is not too old or too proud to sit across from her father and talk for hours, debating and theorizing about her coursework at Radcliffe and conversations with her peers. The study is the smartest and most uneducated she’ll ever be and she treasures that feeling because she knows how lucky she is to be able to learn from a man like her father.

13. Characters have to come from somewhere before the story starts. Tell me about someone they trust before the story begins and why that trust exists.

Holly Johansson is Victoria Albert's dearest friend in the whole wide world. They could practically be sisters with their fine blonde hair and their light freckles and their identical bright smiles. (They do in fact introduce one another as sisters.)

They grew up across the street from each other and their older brothers were friends before either one of them came along, so it was inevitable that they'd be in each other's lives. But no one could've predicted how close they'd become.

They originally bonded out of necessity, otherwise they'd have no one to play with when the school day ended and their brothers sped off down the street without them. It quickly turned to friendship as they braided each other's hair and traded dolls and got bikes of their own so they could ride to the grocer's and buy penny candy.

It's easy between them, all the time. They can read the other girl like a book and therefore there are no secrets between them, not that they'd want there to be. They're bosom buddies, confidants, cheerleaders, and they balance each other well. Holly's more of a dreamer while Victoria is more of a doer, but they both aspire to get out of Green Bay and see the world (Holly to Hollywood, Bertie to the Big Apple.)

When APS comes looking for photographers, no one is happier or most nervous for Victoria than Holly, and Holly is the first person Bertie writes to when something happens overseas.

#mail call #Anonymous #georgina webster #victoria adams albert #shoshi writes #i missed my meits girlies. thank you for sending these!#my writing

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