#Not to promote female competition

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第二十八回 「一帝二后」 ​​​

[sunnywalnut]

I'd rather read about a boy running around the countryside with his dogs than a book about some dude who thinks that including "subtle" misogyny that turns out to be "right" is an own

[cheriladycl01]

hey babe!

may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao

thanks <333

I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader

Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.

Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!

Credit to violetvettel for the GIF

You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.

Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.

Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.

Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.

However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.

The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.

Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?

And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.

He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.

But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.

But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.

The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.

The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.

The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.

"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.

"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.

"Please elaborate!" he asks.

"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.

"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.

"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.

"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.

"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.

"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.

He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.

"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.

"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.

"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.

"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.

"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.

After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.

"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.

"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.

"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.

"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.

"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.

"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.

"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.

"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.

"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.

It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.

"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.

But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.

So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.

A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.

Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.

"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.

"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.

"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.

"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.

"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.

"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.

"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.

"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.

"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.

"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.

"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.

"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.

"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.

You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.

"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.

"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.

"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.

"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.

"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.

"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.

Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.

"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.

You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.

They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.

You were with Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't even comprehend this right now.

His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.

"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.

"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.

He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.

"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.

"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.

"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.

You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.

You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.

"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.

"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.

He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.

You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.

"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.

"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.

"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.

"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.

"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.

He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.

You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.

He didn't want you to.

"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.

"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[dreamdrbbles]

TRUTH OR...DARE?

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re a cheater babe, sawry!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: aaron pierre as himself & the black!fem reader as you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy smut, oral (female receiving), adultery, protected sex, dirty talk, and some more stuff. also, please do not try this at home, pretty babies. minors, do not interact.

It had been four years since you stepped foot in a club, and it showed. Marriage had introduced your social life to a bright red octagon, halting any late nights out or wild adventures with friends. But when your girls planned an impromptu trip to New Orleans to celebrate your big promotion at work, you couldn’t say no. You needed the break, no, you deserved it. You were especially grateful they chose a spot that fit your aesthetic. The club was classy, with dim lighting that set a sultry tone and a strict over-25 entry policy. The drinks were strong, the music was hitting just right, and the men? Fine as hell. You were married—somewhat happily, but there was no harm in looking. Right?

“Ooh! Let’s play truth or dare!” Ashlee’s voice cut through the bass-heavy beat of Glorilla rapping about her love for being outside.

Her mischievous grin told you everything you needed to know: trouble was coming. You and Layla exchanged a knowing look, silently agreeing that your friend was already on one. The three of you had been thick as thieves since college, and truth or dare had a history of bringing chaos into your lives. It was never really truth or dare—it was dare or dare, and Ashlee’s ideas always toed the line between bold and outrageous. “Ash, you need to put the Casamigos down. I see you already on some bullshit,” you said, side-eyeing her as she poured another round of tequila shots.

“I’m not!” she defended, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “But since you got so much to say… truth or dare?” Your competitive spirit flared instantly. Ashlee knew how much you hated backing down from a challenge. She fixed you with a smirk, her eyes glinting with the kind of energy that let you know she’d already thought this through.

“Oh, what the fuck… dare,” you said, waving her on. You figured she’d keep it simple; a dance with a stranger, getting a man’s number, something light. But you should’ve remembered who you were dealing with. Ashlee’s grin widened, wicked and full of intent.

“I dare you to have a one-night stand.” You nearly choked on your lemon drop. “Excuse me?” Ashlee didn’t flinch. She just crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair with the confidence of someone who knew she’d just dropped the gauntlet. “This heffa is crazy.” you muttered under your breath, wiping your mouth as you set the glass down. You shot her a look that could’ve burned through steel. She knew you were married. She’d been standing right there when you said “I do,” the one who held your bouquet and straightened your veil before you walked down the aisle. Sure, Ashlee had never liked Derrick—she thought he was controlling and boring, but this? This was outrageous. “Daring me to commit adultery is insane. No,” you said firmly, shaking your head.

But Ashlee didn’t back down. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, locking eyes with you. “It’s not like you’re happy with Derrick anyway.” she teased, her voice just loud enough for you and Layla to hear over the music.

You stiffened. Ashlee had struck a nerve, and she knew it.

You looked down at your drink, swirling it in the glass as the weight of her words settled over you. Your marriage wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either. Derrick had been distant lately, and the spark between you had faded into routine. You loved him… but sometimes you wondered if that was enough. Layla cut in, sensing the tension. “Ash, come on. That’s a little much, don’t you think?” The most logical of your friend trifecta added, bringing some levity to the situation. “Fine, fine.” Ashlee said with a shrug, raising her hands in mock surrender. “But if you don’t take this dare, then you have to at least… flirt with someone. You’ve been locked up in that marriage too long. Have a little fun.” You sighed, your sense of spontaneity battling with your sense of loyalty. It wasn’t like flirting was cheating… was it?

You tilted back your glass, letting the last of your drink slide down your throat, the burn of the vodka sharp and unforgiving. The cocktail glass hit the table with a decisive clink as you set it down, and the tension at your table crackled in the air. Your best friends were watching you closely, Ashlee with a look of smug challenge, and Layla with quiet pleading in her eyes, silently urging you to stay grounded. Tonight, you knew you were about to break one of their hearts. Would it be the devil on your shoulder or the angel? Taking a deep breath, you pushed back from the table, standing to your feet.

The movement was smooth, deliberate, almost as if you were psyching yourself up for the dare. You smoothed your hands down your dress, tugging it slightly to make sure it covered what needed covering—but there was no hiding the bold tattoo on your thigh: a coiled snake intertwined with roses. That tattoo was a relic of your younger, wilder days, when you were eighteen, impulsive, and drunk on a spring break trip you’d never forget.

Back then, you were reckless, bold, and free. For a brief moment, the memory of that version of yourself stirred something deep inside. “Flirt with a random man, got it.” you said, nodding as if to convince yourself. Your voice carried a mix of determination and resignation, a subtle reminder that you didn’t back down from dares. The beat of the club vibrated through your chest as you scanned the crowd, searching for your unsuspecting target. A few pairs of eyes lingered on you as you stepped away from the table, the confidence in your stride undeniable, even if you were faking it. Tonight, you weren’t just completing a dare, you were testing the edges of who you used to be. But where to start?

‘The bar’, you thought. Because you’d definitely need another round of liquid courage to go through with this. You sauntered to the crowded bar, sifting through bodies until you reached the counter. The bartender was a beautiful woman with bohemian locs that fell to her waist, beads adorned the feature. God, you loved New Orleans. The date was the flirt with someone, not a man in particular. Could making eyes at the gorgeous mixologist count? Probably not. Before you could pipe up to speak, you were bumped out of the way. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you looked up at the towering figure. “Uh! Excuse me!” You called out, her voice only carrying a few inches away from you, but apparently it hit the intended target.

The male turned around and you were instantly stunned. Not only was he tall, but he was fine. Fine was an understatement. When God was done molding him even he had to give himself a pat on the back. From his chiseled jaw line to his ocean blue eyes that were covered by gold wire glasses, his features immediately enticed you. Fuck. The top two buttons on the shirt he wore were unbutton, revealing a gold chain with a simple cross pendant, shit had you ready to confess your sins. “Oh, my apologies love. I didn’t see you there.” He responded, a british accent stunned you, but the depth and rasp of his voice almost made you melt where you stood. “Let me buy you a drink, since I cut you in the queue.” His smile, FUCK. You giggled in response, as if you weren’t about to give him a piece of your mind just ten seconds before you got trapped in his eyes. Flirt. “Good idea, that’ll save you from my wrath.” You responded, your orbs holding his as you naturally tilted your head to the side. “A lemon drop, please.”

“Lemon drop.” he repeated, nodding toward the bartender. But his eyes never left yours, and the way they raked over you, slow and deliberate, made you feel like the most captivating thing in the room. “And an old fashion for me.”

As the bartender prepared your drink, he leaned in slightly, closing the already narrow space between you. His scent wrapped around you, warm, woodsy, and intoxicating. You could almost feel the heat radiating off him, and it took every ounce of composure not to let your knees give out.

“I’m Aaron, by the way.” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you. You swallowed hard, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you replied, “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’m…” You trailed off, momentarily distracted as his gaze flicked to your mouth.

“Beautiful name.” he said before you could finish. Your cheeks warmed, but you held his gaze, determined not to let him see how flustered you were. “I didn’t tell you my name.” You replied, confused.

“No,” he said, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush against your ear, “but I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

Your drink arrived, breaking the moment, and you reached for it, your fingers brushing against his. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“Thank you,” you said, raising the glass slightly, your voice steady despite the way your pulse raced.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his eyes darkening slightly as he leaned back, his smirk now a full-fledged grin.

Flirting had never felt so natural, or so dangerous.

Suddenly, Ashlee’s dare didn’t seem so far-fetched. The idea of a one-night encounter felt thrillingly close, the kind of reckless decision you hadn’t made in years. As Aaron turned to walk away, you acted without thinking, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. The firmness beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you, and he stopped, glancing back at you with curiosity in his eyes.

Boldly, you slipped your arm around his, letting him guide you through the lively crowd. The club’s energy buzzed around you, but it all seemed to fade, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His confidence radiated with every step, and you found yourself mesmerized by the ease with which he moved.

Eventually, he stopped at a table in a quieter corner, turning to face you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “If I’d known buying you that drink would bring you this close, I would’ve done it the moment I saw you walk in.”

Your cheeks burned, the compliment sending a rush of heat through your body. But then it hit you-he still didn't know your name. You opened your mouth to tell him, but he cut you off, pressing a finger gently against your lips.

"You're going to be whoever and whatever I want you to be tonight," he said, his tone commanding but laced with an edge of teasing. "Understood?"

Yes, fuckin’ sir.

You felt his words settle deep in your core, your heart hammering as you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. Then, remembering yourself, you let out a soft laugh. “I guess I should thank my friends for daring me to flirt with someone tonight,” you said, your tone light but tinged with nerves.

His brow arched, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Just flirting?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “That’s a pretty tame dare.”

“Well…” You hesitated, glancing down briefly. “They actually dared me to have a one-night stand, but ⸺.”

“Am I not worthy of that dare?” he interrupted smoothly, his voice playful but edged with curiosity. Your lips parted, unsure how to respond to his suggestive quip.

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling your heart race under his gaze. “But it’s complicated.” You lifted your left hand, the glint of your wedding band catching the light. His eyes followed the motion, lingering for just a moment before returning to yours. There was no judgment there, only intrigue. He leaned back slightly, sipping his drink, his calm demeanor unshaken.

“Is he here?” Aaron asked, his tone casual, though his words held a weight that made your breath catch. “Your husband? Is he here?” He continued when you didn’t respond quick enough.

You shook your head slowly, the honesty in your response surprising even you. “No.”

“Then it sounds like you have a choice to make, Love.” he said simply, setting his drink down on the table. His hand brushed yours lightly, a fleeting touch that felt electric. For the first time in years, you felt truly seen, the weight of routine and expectation momentarily lifted. The noise of the club melted away, leaving only the pounding of your heart and the magnetic pull of his presence. This wasn’t about making a decision yet; it was about the possibility ⸺ a spark of something wild and untamed.

Indeed, you did. Was one moment of indulgence worth betraying the vows you made? Was your competitive nature driving this, or something else entirely? Every rational thought warned you to step back, but then you caught sight of Aaron’s smirk; mischievous, yet inviting—and all logic slipped away. The heat in his gaze made your pussy throb, and the thrill of the unknown sent a shiver down your spine.

“Let’s go.” You said, the words spilling out before doubt could creep in. Your voice carried a conviction that surprised even you.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing grin, one that sent a wave of heat down your body. He finished his drink in one smooth motion, setting the glass down with a deliberate air. “No hesitation,” he murmured, almost to himself, before reaching for your hand.

His touch was warm, firm, and commanding as he led you through the crowded club. The air inside felt suffocating now, charged with tension, but as soon as you stepped outside, the cool New Orleans night greeted you like a cleansing balm. Yet even the breeze couldn’t temper the heat coursing through your veins.

While you waited for the valet, Aaron stood close, closer than he needed to. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between you, earthy and rich, making it harder to think straight. His hand remained on yours, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin in small, soothing circles.

A tinge of self-preservation kicked in, and you fished your phone from your purse, typing a quick message in the group chat.

“Leaving with him. Keep an eye on my location.”

You hit send and glanced up at him, finding him watching you with a curious tilt of his head. “Taking precautions?” He asked, his voice low, teasing, but with an undercurrent of respect. “Of course.” you replied, meeting his gaze with a faint smirk. “You’re still a stranger, no matter how fine you are.” He chuckled, the sound rich and inviting, as the valet pulled up with his car, a sleek, black luxury vehicle that seemed to match the polished disposition he exuded. He opened the passenger door for you, stepping aside with a small bow that was both playful and impossibly smooth.

“After you, beautiful.” he said, his tone soft yet dripping with intent. You hesitated for the briefest moment, one last flicker of restraint threatening to pull you back. But then you stepped forward, sliding into the plush leather seat, the door closing behind you like the start of a story you’d never expected to write. As he rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat, you couldn’t help but glance at him, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation swirling inside you. He caught your gaze and smiled, a slow, devastating twitch of his lips that seemed to promise everything and demand nothing.

The car ride was steeped in a quiet tension that buzzed between you like static electricity. Neither of you said much, but the silence wasn’t awkward ⸺ it was charged. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and in that brief exchange, a mutual understanding passed between you. This is really happening. Aaron’s right hand rested on your thigh, warm and firm against your skin. The casual intimacy of the gesture gave you goosebumps, but it also grounded you. His thumb occasionally traced small, idle circles, igniting tiny sparks that made your breath hitch. Meanwhile, he drove with practiced ease, his left hand guiding the sleek car through the city streets like he’d done it a hundred times before.

As the neon lights of the club district gave way to quieter, tree-lined roads, your heartbeat quickened. His place wasn’t far, and the realization settled over you with the weight of inevitability. You had crossed a line tonight, and every passing second carried you further from the point of no return. When he finally pulled into the driveway of a modern, elegant townhouse, he killed the engine and turned to you. His gaze was steady, his aquamarine eyes searching yours as if to make absolutely sure. “You ready?”

The words were simple, but the way he said them ⸺ low, careful, and tinged with concern, made your chest tighten. You nodded, your voice momentarily caught in your throat. “Yeah.” You managed softly. It was way too late to back out now, and honestly, you didn’t want to. Aaron smiled, a subtle grin that made your stomach flutter. He stepped out first, walking around to open your door.

Always the gentleman, it seemed, an unexpected touch for the man who now held the reins of this impulsive, reckless night. As you stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushed against your skin, heightening your senses. Aaron’s hand found yours again, his grip firm yet reassuring as he led you up the short walkway. The sound of your heels clicking against the pavement felt louder than it should have, like a drumbeat marking the anxiousness building between you. At the door, he paused, his keys in hand, and turned to face you one more time. “If you’re not sure, we can stop here.” he said, his timbre gentle but resolute. “No pressure, no hard feelings.” Your heart raced at his sincerity, but there was no hesitation left in you now.

“I’m sure.” you reassured, your voice steady this time. You were so fucking sure. With a small nod, he unlocked the door, holding it open for you as you stepped into his world, leaving everything else behind.

You barely made it through the threshold before you were engaged in a steamy kiss, and you were ripping each other’s clothes off like it was the end of the world. Patience was no longer a virtue, the only thing that mattered was the dare you had to complete. You two left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, where he pushed you down on the bed and demanded that you get in your favorite position. He would take you anyway you wanted. Without a second thought you rolled over on your stomach, pushing your ass out with your top half pressed firmly against the bed. The arch in your back made him hiss. You spread your legs just wide enough so that he could see your plump sex. “That’s a pretty pussy. Almost as beautiful as you.” He commented as he walked up behind you, slamming both of his hands down on your ass before he kneeled down behind you and released a wad of spit onto your throbbing mound. His tongue followed, gliding up and down your leaking slit with precision, he moaned as he tasted you.

Your nectar satisfying the male’s natural sweet tooth as he continued to indulge himself in your waters. “Oh my god…Aaron.” You squealed as his tongue ventured inside of you, caressing your walls as he thumbed your clit in a slow, figure eight motion. “You’re gonna make me cum already!” You exclaim, causing him to pop his plump lips off of your southern lips.

“Not yet…this is a one night stand.” He mumbled as he stood up behind you, gripping your waist and positioning you just right. He gripped his manhood in his hand and he slowly worked his tip up and down your opening, watching as your glaze coats his thick tip. “That means I got you all night.” He uttered as he slid inside of you, your walls clenching tightly to envelope him inside like a glove. You whimpered with every inch, he had your husband by at least three inches, but you were a determined one. You relaxed your body fully as he buried himself inside. “Good girl, keep opening up for me.” He praised, and you listened, forcing your walls to take every bit of his manhood until his body was flushed with yours.

“You feel so good…” You bellowed, clawing at the comforter underneath you as he began to stroke. He patterned in and out of your slick cunt, your juices flooding his pole with every impel. It felt like his dick was made perfectly for you, like you settled with the wrong man way too soon. All the time, your soulmate was less 500 miles away.

“You dripping all over my dick, baby. Who got you this wet?” The question was a rhetorical, but got dammit, the man had a right to know that he was doing his big one.

“You! Only you…” You replied breathlessly as you began to counteract his grinding with your own. Throwing your ass back at him, the sweat and other natural fluids from your bodies causing your plump cheeks to glue to him each and every time you pushed back. He grunted, encouraging you to continue fucking him back, the more comfortable you got with his size, the more you took, until you were sliding down on his entire cock, ramming into his pelvis. You were fucking him like you would never get the chance to again, because that was your reality.

The phone rings, and for a second, everything stops.

“Uh oh, is that hubby calling?” The male asked in a gruff tone as he placed his hand in the center of your back, slamming his pelvis into your plump cheeks, plummeting his manhood deeper and deeper into your guts. Before you knew it, he was handing you your phone, without even thinking you took it in your trembling hand. You had two missed FaceTime calls, and now he was calling on the regular cell. He had somehow gotten through the do not disturb function, even though he wasn’t on the approved list. “Answer it.” He demanded, bringing his hand up into the air before he smacked it down on your ass, undoubtedly leaving a palm shaped bruise.

“N-no…” You stuttered as he continued to thrust deeper into your abyss, his curved tip thrashing against your g-spot.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, beautiful. Answer it.” He directed once more, his strokes slacking up some until he completely stopped, leaving you full of his girth; your bodies pressed together.

The phone rang again, and this time you accepted the call. “Hey…babe, hey…” You slurred, trying to make it seem like you were drunk, even though the only thing intoxicating you was the man leaning over you, now pressing kisses to your shoulder as he stroked you deeply. You bit down into your lip, masking a moan as the familiar tone came through the phone. You clumsily hit the speaker phone and laid the device next to you.

“Hey, I was just checking on you. I know y’all were going out tonight. Did you have fun?” Derrick asked casually. Aaron chuckled in your ear, only loud enough for you to hear it. “Sounds like you had fun, you slurring your words.”

“Y-yes….so much fun! C-Can I call you back? The service isn’t good out here.” You powered through, despite being long dicked through your conversation with your spouse. Before he could even answer, Aaron reached over and ended the call. Kicking his foot up onto the mattress, he abandoned his steady, pointed strokes for brutal, merciless thrusts, sending shockwaves through your body. “FUCK! Right there, right there!”

“Your husband doesn’t fuck you this good does he?” He asked as he slipped in and out of your fortress with clear intentions, he wanted you to think of him even when you went back home. Even when it was your husband behind you. You shook your head no, but that just wasn’t good enough for him. He slid his hand into your fresh silk press and wrapped your tresses around his hand, yanking your hair until your back was flushed with his torso. He turned his head, planting soft kisses on your earlobe before he spoke again. “Answer me. Use your words.” Both of his hands wrapped around your body, one landing on your neck, and the other against your throbbing sensitivity.

He squeezed the column of your neck, while slapping his hand down on your clit to provoke an answer from you. “No! He could never fuck me like you…” You declared boldly. One night with this man and you had already thrown your husband’s boring bedroom skills under the bus. Your silk-lined walls spazzed, your clit pulsated with anticipation as your stomach muscles tightened. The curl of your toes told a story, the contortion of your face was the foreword. You were about to unravel, harder than ever before. He needed no introduction to your orgasm, he could feel you tightening around him. “That’s it princess, gimme what I want.” He encouraged as he sent one more swift pop to your engorged bundle of nerves, sending your body into a frenzy as you came. Frothy, ivory cum coated the latex between the two of you as a shrill cry left your lips. “Shit…shit…” you cursed as he placed another kiss to your temple.

“Keep cumming like that and I might have to keep you.” He murmured, a promise he couldn’t keep. He slid out of you, only for a moment to replace the condom. Grabbing your leg, he used it to flip you over on your back. He positioned himself between your thick thighs, pushing them up to your chest as he tapped his throbbing tip against your sensitive clit. He didn’t waste time entering you once again, pressing both of his hands on each side of your head as he leaned down on top of you. His gold cross pendant dangled right over your line of sight. The symbol was so fitting, because he was nailing you to that motherfucka.

This had to be the most dangerous position. His gaze felt like something you weren’t sure you could pull back from. Those piercing blue eyes of his—deep and endless like the ocean—held you captive, silently daring you to dive in, to let go of everything else. The sexually charged as the air between you thickened, it became harder to grasp onto reason. All you could focus on was the way his skillful phallus edges you closer and closer to glory.

“You don’t love him…who do you love?”

“I love you!” You blurted out mindlessly. You didn’t love this man, you’d just met him. But you absolutely loved the way he felt inside of you, so, same thing?

“I love you too,” He retorted, pressing his lips to yours to steal a few kisses. “Keep giving me this pussy, make me nut.” He grunted as he closed any gaps between the two of you, his sticky, sweaty frame clinging to yours. The religious symbol carved from gold swayed above your mouth as he defiled you. You impulsively grabbed the pendant with your teeth and held onto it, causing the male to growl in response. “Sexy ass…” Your action clearly arousing him, you could feel his erection twitch insiders of your fortress.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, letting them fall further down to his muscular ass, sinking your french manicure into his skin and holding him in place. “You wanna nut so, bad. let me feel you, daddy…” you purr into his ear, and lock clockwork his entire body tenses, he gives you a few more choppy strokes, a throaty snarl covering a string of obscenities as he filled the latex between the two of you, another orgasm ripping through your own body simultaneously. The two of you laid there in silence for a few moments; enjoying the feeling of your bodies sticking together. Finally, he reached between you and pulled out. Placing a soft kiss against your duo before pulling away all together.

You watched as he swaggered to the bathroom, his beautiful round butt on display. You’d just cheated on your husband, and you honestly had no regrets. He would never know, you would get back to your life in a few days and forget this ever happened. Or would you?

You heard the sound of the toilet flush before he walked back out to you, in all his glory. “You okay?” He asked, your lips curved up into a smirk. “Let me get you some water…”

As promised, he made you touch every wall in the house. From the kitchen while he was “getting water” to the living room floor, back down to the hallway, until you circled back to the shower and ended in the bedroom again.

Normally, you loved the sunrise ⸺ it was your favorite time of day. You were an early riser, always savoring the quiet peace of dawn. But today, you hated it. The soft, golden light spilling through the curtains was an unwelcome reminder that your night with Aaron had come to an end, and reality was waiting just outside that door.

Carefully, you slid out of bed, moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking him. His steady breathing filled the room, and for a moment, you paused, watching the way the morning light kissed his face. He looked so peaceful, so perfect, and it only made it harder to leave.

You tiptoed around out of the room, gathering your clothes from where they’d been discarded the night before. Piece by piece, you dressed in silence, your movements deliberate, almost hesitant, as if you were trying to hold on to the last remnants of the night.

But as you reached the front door, a tug of longing made you stop. You couldn’t leave ⸺ not yet. You needed one last look at him.

Turning back, you crept down the hall and peeked into the bedroom. Your heart stuttered when you saw him staring back at you, his dreamy eyes half-lidded as he rubbed the sleep from them. His voice, low and raspy from sleep, broke the silence. “You were just gonna leave like that?” The corners of his lips displayed a faint smile, and the vulnerability in his tone hit you harder than you expected.

“Yeah, before you make it even harder to leave,” you admitted with a matching smile, your voice barely above a whisper. You lingered at the doorframe, taking in the sight of him one last time, trying to commit it all to memory. “Goodbye, Aaron. Thank you for last night.”

The sincerity in your words hung between you, unspoken truths layered beneath them.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching yours. “Before you leave… what’s your name?”

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to tell him, but instead, you offered a soft, enigmatic smile. “Let’s just leave it as ‘Beautiful,’” you said, the words laced with finality and a hint of playfulness.

Aaron leaned back, his smile widening as he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Beautiful it is.”

Without another word, you turned and slipped out of the room. Outside, your best friends were waiting for you, their faces alight with curiosity and mischief. They immediately bombarded you with questions, eager for every last detail. But as you settled into the car’s backseat, you held onto the memory of last night, knowing some moments were better left unspoken, cherished in quiet secrecy.

[formulawolff]

enemies? worse than that. — f.a.

pairing -> fem!driver reader x fernando alonso

word count -> 3.3k

warnings -> cursing, light/mild violence, mentions of online hate, sexual innuendos (if you squint really closely), hurt + comfort, jealousy, light injuries, age gap mentions, yadayadayada

a/n -> this fic stemmed from this ask in the garage. i'm sorry i just got to this one, babe. i hope you enjoy it! <3

in the world of formula 1, animosity was normal.

welcomed, even.

with the competitive nature of the sport, there was no escaping it.

there was always drama. a driver who refused to acknowledge their mistake that cost another driver their podium. a driver who got a little handsy, shoving another driver after a heated exchange of words. a driver who would refuse to accept that they had teammates. a driver who timed their overtake a bit too late, barreling into another car.

it was just the reality of the sport. although it was not as physical as football, rugby, or even wrestling, the adrenaline would fuel outbursts, the tension palpable by even the most casual of fan.

yet, there were times the tension was fabricated too. some of the gossip was purely baseless rumors, where other times it was a tiny spat that was overexaggerated for the sake of social media attraction. a headline generated for some clicks or views.

you were a good girl.

you kept your head down low, only spoke when spoken to, and rarely let the adrenaline get the best of you. you kept things as clean as possible, anxious of the nuclear fallout. you even inhibited your abilities, just enough so you stayed midfield.

well, it’s not like you wanted to hold back.

you just figured it was better that way. there was less risk of a crash that way. and with no accidents or damage to the car, you could avoid blame from the fans and media when there were far from stellar performances.

life as a formula one rookie was rough enough.

being the only female driver on the grid was like pouring gasoline over an open flame.

sure, there were rough days. sessions where you felt completely and utterly defeated, tears streaming down your cheeks the moment you clawed that balaclava off. races where the dream of a podium felt almost impossible to achieve. nights where you wanted to chuck your helmet against the wall, screaming until your lungs gave out.

however, there was nowhere else you would rather be.

nothing in life compared to being behind the wheel of the car. nothing was as fulfilling as racing, the euphoria pumping through your veins as you soared down that straight. nothing else inspired you or brought you the intense thrill that formula one did.

you absolutely loved the sport. everything and anything about it.

well, almost everything.

and that one thing? well, it was not a thing. it was a person.

a driver, actually. his name?

fernando alonso.

the spaniard was a veteran, in the midst of his twenty-first season. he had seen it all, from a turbulent rookie year to dozens upon dozens of podiums. he had relished in that sweet, sweet taste of victory. he had heard the thunder of dozens upon dozens of fireworks, savoring the way the crowd roared his name.

with two championship titles, thirty-two grand prix wins, and twenty-two pole positions, you would think that he would be slowing down, eager to begin a life off of the grid.

to your dismay, he was contracted with aston martin until the end 2026. that meant two more seasons of his snarky remarks and unwarranted antics.

ever since lance finally convinced his father to let him take a step back from racing, you were promoted to fill the aston martin seat. you spent 2024 as their reserve driver, keeping a low profile. of course, acquiring a female driver was a shock to many, but since it was aston martin, it was not as coveted as signing with red bull or ferrari.

in andy cowell's mind, the move made perfect sense. after all, he felt that you deserved it, as you proved your patience. and whenever you did test, you were stellar. there was no need to bring in a fresh face from formula two, who would only crumble under the intense pressure.

in his eyes, you were a driver worth investing in. someone who could make history, all eyes falling on aston martin and their first female world champion.

a star in the making.

aston martin's diamond in the rough.

yet, there was one person who was not too fond of the newbie.

and that person was fernando.

you see, it was not like he was harassing you.

it was more along the lines of him making your life as inconvenient as possible.

he was colder than the rest of the aston martin team, barely speaking more than two to three words to you at a time. he refused to participate in sponsorships or social media bits with you. he would only address you by "newbie", never by your name.

he would call out your mistakes during press conferences. he would blame you for underperforming during race weekends. he would giggle and gossip about you with the other drivers, sparking rumors that you were interested in carlos. some weekends he proclaimed it was charles or lando.

he never went too far, though. he never intentionally rammed into your car or put you in risk of danger. he never created false narratives to share with the media. he never slandered you so badly that it prevented you from competing.

it was mostly harmless. things you would have dealt with in middle school. behaviors you felt that a man of his age should have outgrown.

in your mind, it was his fucked up way of welcoming you to the grid. some sort of test you needed to pass in order to be accepted by not only him, but the other drivers. you needed to suffer as much as possible your rookie year in order to climb that social ladder.

from the beginning, you figured you would match his energy.

you would fight the fire with your own flames.

his taunts were met with retaliation, the jabs countered by venomous barbs. when he went low, you went lower. you were not going down without putting up a fight.

and every time his voice would lower, his head tilting ever so slightly, just a few degrees enough for you to notice. there was this glint swimming in his depths, almost as if he was pleading for you to keep going, to keep the insults flowing.

the notes would get breathy, his chest rising and falling at a more rapid heart.

it was almost as if he liked getting a reaction out of you.

he would push at your buttons, just enough to keep you frustrated.

almost as if he enjoyed it, soaking in every second.

almost as if this was a game for him.

a game that he would not win.

not while you were in that damn aston martin seat.

however, there was one particular aspect of it all that left you spiraling, lying wide awake at night. your mind would rewind, replaying every moment of every sole interaction that you have ever had with this man.

unfortunately, you had developed a crush on fernando.

a significant one, at that.

in the midst of every quarrel, your eyes would meet. heat would billow into your cheeks, your heart rate only skyrocketing as he maintained the eye contact, his gaze every so often flickering to your lips. there was one instance in which you swore you heard him utter, keep going baby. at those words, your knees buckled, your throat tightening.

to make things worse, you loved hearing him speak to you like that.

it was almost as if he was praising you for it.

there was no denying that fernando was a handsome man. lately, he was growing out his hair, the fluffy strands unruly. along his chiseled jawline was a constant five o'clock shadow, the stubble prominent at all times. whenever you caught a glimpse of the inked skin poking above the collar of his clothing, you a shiver ran down your spine.

and fuck, his eyes were oh so stunning. the hues were reminiscent of sunlight pouring in through a forest, the rays of light illuminating the dusty earth. the colors were rich and vivid, shimmering as they drank you in.

he thought he would get away with it, but you've caught his gaze lingering for just a little too long, carefully capturing any detail before pulling away.

there was a part of you that wondered if all of this was his fucked up way of flirting, but you denied it.

there was no way in hell fernando was into you.

there was just no damn way.

november 3rd, 2024

"look at all of this shit."

a driver clicks his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly. various hues of emerald blur in his peripheral, members of the crew chattering about.

"what do you think of the rain, eh?" the spaniard's body shifts, facing his race engineer, "you think it will cause some chaos out there?"

"fernando," chris rolls his eyes, "you and i both know what happens when that asphalt gets slick. just follow your gut. do what you feel is right."

"of course," a chuckle flows from fernando's lips, the driver wagging a finger at his engineer, "no funny business out there."

another member of the crew strolls up to chris, murmuring something that fernando can't quite decipher. chris exhales, his stare fixated on the rain as it pounded the pavement. fernando puckers his lips, words dangling on the tip of his tongue. yet, he can't speak.

someone else enters his line of sight, stealing any shred of attention he had left.

that someone else was you.

licking his lips, he calls out, "are you going to be able to handle a little rain?"

your jaw clenches, head swiveling as your brow furrows, "i can, actually. not sure how you'll fare, though."

"is that a challenge?" he can't help but feel his lips twitch, curling into a smirk, "let's see if you can even make it past the first turn before hydroplaning."

"you're on." you shoot him a wink, blowing him a kiss, "i'll make sure i find you in the crowd when i'm on that podium."

"sure," fernando tuts, folding his arms across his chest, "we'll see about that one, baby girl."

we'll see about that one, baby girl.

you freeze, earning a laugh from him. he cocks his head, tongue running along his teeth, "cat got your tongue?"

"n-no," you spit out, "save it for the race, fernando."

as you storm off, there's a sensation burning within, the flames licking about.

god, he craved riling you up.

you see, it was not like he was trying to make your life at aston martin miserable. to him, it was more like poking the bear, to see just how many buttons he had to push before you snapped. the moment in which you would become you, the real you. the person he knew was hiding in there, anxiously anticipating her moment the shine.

he was waiting for the moment in which you would unleash your full potential, fighting tooth and nail for that podium. the moment in which would make the other drivers fear you, not daring to overtake or pull cheap shots.

fernando was well aware you had the talent to be the world champion.

you just needed a little push here and there to unlock it.

before he knew it, he was sliding into the seat, shoving his fingers into the gloves. there was a slight rain delay, but nothing that had never encountered before. he was a professional, a seasoned driver in conditions like this.

however, as the car lurches onto the track, there's this feeling that blossoms into his chest. it tugs at his heart, head raising so that he could glance over, taking one last look before all hell broke loose.

you are in your own car, visor flipped down. droplets of rain glitter on your helmet, the suit a darker shade than usual from all of the moisture.

although he can't see your face underneath the helmet, he knows that your lips are slightly pursed. your eyes are narrowed, lasered in, hoping to catch a glimpse of the flag. concentration paints your features, but he knows in that moment, you could not be more beautiful.

if only you knew.

if only.

the second the roar of engines fill his ears is when it all blurs together.

parts fly in the air, a tire whizzing past. his heart thuds against his rib-cage, but he knows he cannot stop. he cannot make any mistakes. one delayed reaction could lead to devastation.

"fernando, they're waving a red flag. head to the pits and await further directions."

"what is going on? what happened?" he pants, his chest heaving, "tell me, who was involved?"

"there was an accident. we think she's going to be okay, but we're not sure. hence, the double-flag. first, we need to get you pitted."

"i-is she injured?" his fingers tremble, "d-do you guys know her status?"

"our priority is getting you to the pits safely. we will reconvene once you're back."

"fuck!" the driver shouts, tears forming as he maneuvers about, shifting between the brake and gas. the rain is torrential, shrouding the grandstands and his nearby surroundings.

he should have warned her. he should have given her some tips. he should have made it his priority to ensure she made it out of the first lap safely.

yet, it was too late.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

november 4th, 2024

harsh, sterile light seeps into your vision, nearly blinding as you groan, stirring. as your eyes adjust, you wrinkle your nose, sensing something taped to your hand.

as you make it out, you realize it's an i.v., hooked to a bag floating above your head. swallowing, you sense someone else in the room, but you are ensure of who it may be.

"there she is."

his voice is familiar, one you found comfort in.

"w-what happened?" the words are coughed out, but he understand them nonetheless, "where a-am i?"

fernando straightens in his chair, slightly leaning over the bed rail, "we're at a nearby hospital. i'm not too sure of where, exactly."

a searing pain shoots into your skull, earning a wince. fernando's fingers roam across your forehead, brushing a few strands of hair from your brow.

"do you remember what happened?"

"no," a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you pick out the concern plastered across his features. his jaw is tight, lips etched in a tightly knit frown, "but i think i'm dreaming because you're by my side. i would've expected andy or ben."

"you're not dreaming, beautiful girl," he murmurs. his hands reach out the rail, settling on yours, "it's me, i'm here."

"but you're alone," propping yourself up with an elbow, you inhale sharply, "you would rather retire than spend quality time with your teammate."

"not just any old teammate," cautiously, he brings a hand to his lips, gently pressing them against each knuckle, "the teammate i look forward to teasing every day."

your heart skips a beat as he switches hand, peppering the heated skin with gentle kisses, "you hate me, fernando."

"hate?" his eyes widen, mouth flying open, "you think i hate you?"

"i-i mean," you shrug, "you treat me like i'm your enemy."

"i know," the words are eerily quiet, merely a whisper, "i know i treat you that way. and for that, i am sorry."

"are you just saying that or do you mean that?"

"do you want to know why i treat you the way i do? you want me to be honest?" he arches a brow, intertwining your fingers together, "i know what you want me to say, but i want to just hear it."

bliss ripples in your chest at the action, the medication seeping into your veins, "a-are you sure i'm not dreaming, nando?"

at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips, he nearly loses control.

"you're not dreaming, beautiful girl. i was worried about you, so i came in and waited by your side until you woke up. i'm attracted to you, angel. you're so stunning it leaves me speechless. and i know if i give in to my feelings, if i let them consume me, i am going to be under your spell for the rest of my life.

you are so determined, so bright, so talented. it hurts me that you don't maximize your full potential when we are on the track. although it may seem like i hate you, i just can't help myself. so, i have to find another outlet for these feelings. there's no other way i would be able to concentrate, let alone reach my goals with you around. so, i have to keep my distance. i have to remind myself that it's not you, it's me. it's a bit juvenile, but there's no other way for me to function."

his confession leaves you reeling, the beeping of the monitor speeding up as he rises to his feet, leaving over the rail. his mouth hovers above yours, merely centimeters away as the tip of nose brushes against yours.

yet, the next round of medications are settling in, pulling you into the depths of slumber. licking your lips, your lashes flutter as the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

"nando," you hum, "it sounds like to me you're in love with me."

at that, he squeezes your hand, flashing you a dazzling smile, "i just might be, angel. i just might be."

"you shouldn't be scared of your feelings. you should feel them. who knows, it may work out in your favor."

"who knows," his voice is hushed, "oh, pretty girl. looks like your meds are kicking in, huh?"

you nod, the corners of your lips forming a pout, "mhmmm. will you stay with me? until i wake up again? i want to know i'm not dreaming."

"i will," there were no hesitations, "i'll stay here until you wake up again. sleep well, angel."

as you doze off, the spanish driver fiddles with a few of your things, organizing them. as dazed as you were, he did not want to create any further confusion when you woke up once again. he was going to take advantage of this moment in time, as he was unsure of when he was going to get it again.

as far as the accident, you were stable. unfortunately, going into one of the first few turns, you fell victim to kevin magnussen, the two of you colliding. since you received the impact, both you and the car were in far worse shape. you spun out of control, barreling into the nearby barriers.

they rushed you by ambulance to the closest hospital, the spanish driver filled to the brim with dread as he watched you leave the track, hauled away in the emergency vehicle.

he ended up finishing in the fourteenth position. not anywhere near where he wanted to be, but his mind was other places.

he was far more concerned about you. how you were doing, what injuries you suffered, and where they were bringing you in for treatment. the second he was able, he flew to the hospital, jogging into the lobby. he was out of breath, exhausted from the events of the day, but it didn't matter.

all that mattered was you.

fortunately, you were diagnosed with minor injuries. you had a concussion, along with a few broken ribs. you would make a strong recovery, bouncing back within a matter of weeks. you were in and out of sleep, but he did not mind.

he would sit and wait. as long as you needed him, he would be by your side.

who was going to be the first one to pester you once you were discharged? who else would be there to make you laugh? to get that light back in your eyes?

after all, there were many questions to be answered.

and he would get those answers.

not anytime in the near future, but soon enough.

however, buried deeply in his heart, he knew how you felt. you did not have to say a single word.

the radiant grin that appeared when you saw him was enough.

[jesswritesthat]

Miya Atsumu: VBC

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: -1.8k, fluff

• Joining the Inarizaki volleyball team isn’t what you expected, but maybe someone can help with that.

Warnings: fem!reader, curses

>>>>——————————>

In honesty you were ecstatic to transfer to Inarizaki High for second year, it gave you the opportunity to reconnect with your best friend Yuki, and you'd heard amazing things about the volleyball club there.

The key word being 'were'. It wasn't until you'd arrived did you understand the misconception - you had every intention of joining the females VBC despite your friends' discernment. Upon passing the advertising for afterschool clubs, you noted their sales pitch wasn't exactly suited to one's passion for the sport.

"The main reason to join is for the Miya twins!"

It was rather a passion for the boys.

"But this is the girls team." You'd deadpan stated, as if this resolved everything.

Alas the promoter and captain disagreed with a gleaming smile that suggested she'd been begging to elaborate on such things.

"Yes exactly! Atsumu and Osamu are interested in volleyball, meaning the boys team are liable to play us during training. Giving us a chance to spend time and learn from them~"

"Great, I'm all for the competition but—"

"If you're lucky you might even end up with a hot boyfriend!"

Instantly the leaflet in your palm was scrunched, a huff of disappointment escaping you.

"Then I'd rather find somewhere else to play." You curtly responded, the girl taken aback but cheerfully calling after you anyway.

"We— We're showing around potential recruits after school if you change your mind!"

Once reaching your newly assigned classroom, the balled up paper was dumped on your friends' desk who only looked up to you with a raised brow.

"That's why you were evasive about me joining the volleyball club Yuki."

She released a tired hum, like she'd been expecting this conversation, Hamada Yuki and yourself had been on a team together in middle school.

"Told ya (Y/n), as a member of the so-called 'Inarizaki Girls Volleyball Team', it's more of a damn fan club at this point." Yuki seethed, shooting the flyer into the bin across the classroom.

"I could tell. Is anyone serious there besides you?" You questioned once sitting at your desk beside hers, the setter shaking her head thoughtfully.

"A few. We're vastly outnumbered by fangirls though, we practice and they do whatever - sometimes asking us about terminology to impress certain people of course."

On that note, you figured it'd be worth seeing what the fuss was about later, and if what Yuki had told you was true.

Lo and behold, it was exactly like Yuki described. However, the second you'd reached the boys practice, the surrounding group of girls came to life with unadulterated adoration for the players. Squeals and cheers erupting when they'd take shots or score, meanwhile you'd analysed the plays with a degree of knowledge.

It was then you'd locked eyes with the charismatic setter, only for a second, before his shift in focus sent your fellow potentials into a frenzy.

That's enough. You walked out.

———

So the girls team wasn't your cup of tea. That didn't mean you'd cease playing the game you enjoyed - the nearby community centre hosted volleyball sessions regularly, and you were able to book time slots with Yuki and some of her teammates.

It meant you were settling into this new environment, even if it wasn’t perfect. As an Inarizaki tradition, and a volleyball fan, you naturally ended up watching a few of the boys games out of support. They were talented too, deserving of their recognition even if part of it was linked to their attractiveness.

“Ya came to the game huh, transfer?” He caught you as you were about to leave the gym in the midst of students fussing over them, an apologetic hand immediately retracting from your wrist where he’d reached for you.

“Yeah, apparently it’s a tradition or something since you guys are the pride of Inarizaki.” You’d spoken casually with a shrug which he seemed somewhat defeated by considering the recent victory.

“Oh really…?”

“Mhm. You played well though, Miya.”

“It’s nothin’, all thanks to training and my team y’know?” It appeared he’d reignited, a sudden enlightenment about him due to your praise.

“Keep it up then. See you around.”

“I— uh— yeah hope so!”

———

Today, you'd ventured to the centre, court doors open to allow a soft breeze to freshen the area. As well as a perspective viewpoint for curious passers-by, one that captured the double back of a certain blonde.

Finally, spike!

"Hey I know ya!"

Faltering, awry angle leaving you landing awkwardly but your hit was seemless. Still, you shot a dangerous glare to the intruders, finding Atsumu holding the door he'd previously slammed wide open and Osamu who also seemed tired of his twins' spontaneity.

"No, you don't Miya."

"Yer from class. The transfer.” Atsumu proudly replied to your dismissal, walking in with a wave alongside his brother who facepalmed with an agitated mutter.

“Their name is (L/n) (Y/n).”

“Well I never asked ‘em!” Even though you’d spoken a few times and it’d been nearly two months, this remained true.

"Okay, and?" Your lack of acknowledgement left Atsumu pouting slightly, but he was more intrigued by your choice of venue considering the fully functioning gym and team currently training at Inarizaki.

"And yer here playing volleyball instead of at school! Yer good, the girls team would be glad to have ya."

"I'd rather play for the community centre." You immediately responded a matter-of-factly, facing him now and spinning the recovered ball between your hands.

"But they don't get to enter high school competitions." It seemed he wasn't entirely convinced, having not discovered the answers he was politely fishing for.

"I know."

"Alright! I just wanna know why yer here? I’d get to play against ya if yer were apart of the school team." Atsumu argued again, more direct this time.

"Because the girls team is a damn fan club for you guys, the only score they're interested is scoring a date with you!"

"Huh, I mean..."

"Why bother joining a team like that when hardly any of them are there to actually play volleyball." You'd rolled your eyes, emotion present when explaining your point and Atsumu seemed to empathise.

"I get it. That'd piss me off too."

"Agreed." Osamu added, an understanding nod toward you.

"Then you have your answer."

With little more to say, the twins shared a sceptical look, before returning their focus to you once more.

“Would ya mind if we joined ya then?”

The question caught you off-guard, darting between them as if searching for some ulterior motive only to find none.

“I guess not.”

“Thanks (L/n).”

“Yeah cheers!” Osamu and Atsumu respectively threw their thanks and removed their jackets ready to play.

———

It’d been a week since that escapade, and you’d found the twins sharing gestures of greeting if they saw you around the school but nothing out of the ordinary. At least not until now…

"Psst (Y/n)!" Yuki came dashing in, evading desks until she'd reached yours with a devious look. "Guess what."

"You actually got an A?"

"Rude." A scoff. "No, Miya Atsumu came to practice yesterday."

"I am so sorry for your loss of concentration, I imagine your fangirl teammates couldn't take their eyes off him." Sarcasm flowed like an effortless river, one that normally fuelled Yuki, except she held a scheming tone when responding straightforwardly.

"He eradicated over half of the club."

"What?" You shock was evident, you’d heard he could be critical in games and a bit of an ass but this was unexpected - Yuki far too happy to extend.

"Yep. Miya comes in and gives a whole speech about ‘if you're not serious about playing then quit’. Said if they’re here for the boys team, he'll ask to open a practice for them to watch - and something about how being apart of this club isn't gonna catch his attention because he already likes someone.”

"Woah." It was all you could muster considering that this whole thing might've been linked to your conversation the other day. He wouldn't do that for such a trivial reason though, right? But if was to protect the sport he loved then it made sense.

"So... wanna join the team and play as my precious Spiker again?" Yuki persuadingly started when clasping your shoulders, earnest gratitude and glee lacing her voice.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! Remaining members want to progress and I want my middle school ace by my side again so we can kick ass and go to Nationals!"

"Then I'm in, but isn't there a trial or—" You matched her contagious energy, until she cut you off holding up an already filed applicant form.

"Just approval from the captain." Yuki smirked, that evil one she wore when she had something over you. "Me."

"You?”

"What? Once the chief of the Miya fan club quit along with the others, the team needed a serious captain.” She struck a model pose. “Who better than the reliable setter right?"

"I agree with the setter stuff, but uh can I talk to (L/n) for a sec?" The pair of you looked to the confident origin, finding none other than Atsumu walking toward you.

Yuki gave a little teasing wave and left you two to talk.

"I think ya should give the girls volleyball club a chance y'know." He’d held a hand to the back of neck, a lopsided grin on his lips regardless of the underlying awkwardness he harboured.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Went there yesterday, no fangirls in sight - just the makings of a solid team. Maybe ya were wrong about it."

"Maybe I was. Captain Yuki did personally invite me, so the least I could do is try it out." You paused momentarily, meeting his auburn eyes with mischievous ones of your own. "Considering all your hard work Miya."

There was a guilty look crossing his expression ever so briefly, the blonde shaking it off with a cocky smile.

"No idea whatcha talking about. Whatever, do what ya want!"

———

The Inarizaki girls VBC was a brilliant one now it'd been fortified, you got to play alongside your best friend once more and were surrounded by a team of talented individuals who you could hang out with as friends too.

Due to improved team cohesion, there were even joint training sessions alongside the boys VBC, sessions which the third years had said were more frequent than they ever had been before.

They couldn't help but think all the beneficial changes recently were all down to a single catalyst. Said catalyst apparently trying to impress a certain someone who'd captured more than his attention. The same one who he’d been too nervous to ask for a name numerous times when sparking conversation. The same one he’d look for during games and throughout the school corridors.

Unfortunately the certain someone was oblivious to such signs and thought nothing of it when Inarizaki walked into the gym - their prodigal setter immediately laying eyes on who everyone knew to be this certain someone.

"Hey (Y/n), can I set for ya?"

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[mightyflamethrower]

15 Facts About E. Jean Carroll’s Allegations Against Trump the Media Don’t Want You to Know

1.  Bergdorf Goodman has no surveillance video of the alleged incident.

2.  There are zero witnesses to the alleged sexual attack.

3.  Carroll first came forward — conveniently — with the allegations while promoting her book What Do We Need Men For? in 2019, which featured a list of “The Most Hideous Men of My Life.”

4.  Carroll was unable to remember when this alleged attack even occurred. She told her lawyer in 2023, “This question, the when, the when, the date, has been something I’ve [been] constantly trying to pin down.” She has jumped years — originally beginning with 1994, then moving to 1995, and even floating to 1996. She cannot remember the season in which the alleged attack occurred either.

5.  The Donna Karan blazer dress she claims to have worn during the alleged incident was not even available at the time of her claims. Trump Attorney Boris Epshteyn told reporters, “She said, ‘This is the dress I wore in 1994.’ They went back, they checked. The dress wasn’t even made in 1994.”

“And that’s why the date’s moved around. This is the 80s. Is it the 90s? Is it the 2000s? President Trump has consistently stated that he was falsely accused, and he has the right to defend himself,” he added.

6.  She never came forward with these allegations over the years despite constantly being open about sexuality, posting things that were very sexual in nature on social media — many of which Trump has shared. They include remarks such as “How do you know your ‘unwanted sexual advance’ is unwanted, until you advance it?” and “Sex Tip I Learned From My Dog: When in heat, chase the male until he collapses with exhaustion … then jump him!”

7.  She said she was never raped, telling the New York Times’ podcast, The Daily,“Every woman gets to choose her word. Every woman gets to choose how she describes it. This is my way of saying it. This is my word. My word is ‘fight.’ My word is not the ‘victim’ word. I have not — I have not been raped,” she continued. “I have — something has not been done to me. I fought. That’s the thing.”

8.  She named her cat “Vagina.” “Her dog, or her cat, was named ‘Vagina.’ The judge wouldn’t allow us to put that in — all of these things — but with her, they could put in anything: Access Hollywood,” Trump told CNN.

9.  Joe Tacopina, an attorney for Trump, pointed out in May 2023 that Carroll’s entire story has incredible similarities to a 2012 episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In that episode, titled “Theatre and Tricks,” an individual talks about a rape fantasy in Bergdorf Goodman — the same department store where Carroll claims the incident took place.

10.  Speaking of shows, Carroll loved Trump’s show The Apprentice.

“I was a big fan of the show. Very impressed by it,” Carroll said on the witness stand, adding that she “had never seen such a witty competition on TV, and it was about something worthwhile, competing.”

11.  Carroll made a joke associating sex with Bergdorf Goodman in a November 1993 edition of Elle, which was before the alleged Trump attack took place. As Breitbart News detailed:

Carroll was responding to a letter from a female reader concerned that she was having trouble achieving orgasm through sexual intercourse alone while the reader said that she could climax through foreplay. “Is there any way I could learn to reach orgasm through sex?” asked the reader in the November 1993 edition. “Maybe books I could read?” Carroll replied with the following advice (emphasis added): Dear Snowed Under: Stop flagellating yourself. Gadzooks! At least you have orgasms. And if that isn’t spontaneous sex I don’t know what is. Most women (about 70 percent) experience difficulties climaxing through intercourse alone. So you’re perfectly normal. Begin by reading For Yourself by Dr. Lonnie Barbach. She’ll give you excellent instructions on how to have an orgasm during intercourse. Then after 313 queenhell love-wiggles, move on to Gretta Garbo’s favorite love position – the top. (In erotic scenes, Garbo is always above the man. So are Sharon Stone, Bette Midler and Katherine Hepburn). Indeed, this location works better for women than the fourth floor of Bergdorf’s.

12.  Carroll is financially backed by anti-Trump Democrat megadonor Reid Hoffman, who has openly admitted to visiting convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s private island.

13.  Democrat party activists back her as well, as Breitbart News detailed:

Indeed, one of Carroll’s attorneys is Roberta Kaplan — a Democrat Party activist who led the group Time’s Up. She left the activist group after it was revealed she was aiding former New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo in attempting to discredit the Democrat’s accusers. It served as a great irony as Time’s Up seeks to defend women from what it claims is discrimination and harassment. This fact has led to mounting speculation that Kaplan only gets involved in cases that she views as politically expedient. Further, Federal District Judge Lewis Kaplan is overseeing the process and has connections to Carroll’s other attorney, Shawn Crowley. She was actually a law clerk for Judge Kaplan, and he officiated her wedding. That aside, Trump has denied knowing the left-wing activist as the only evidence of any contact is a single picture with Carroll greeting Trump and his ex-wife Ivana at an event greeting line over 35 years ago. Carroll has yet to provide solid evidence of this alleged encounter and will not use the dress that she claims had DNA on it from this alleged incident. Even Trump publicly said the dress should be part of the case. Further, there are no eyewitnesses of this alleged incident, which supposedly occurred at the popular New York City department store.

14.  The lawsuit was only able to proceed after Democrats created the Adult Survivors Act in 2022. She conveniently pursued this suit in November following the law going into effect, which allowed her to avoid the statute of limitations for this case.

15.  Carroll once said, “Most people think of rape as sexy.”

Donald Trump Jr. also retweeted a list of facts about Carroll, urging others to take a look:

- She couldn't recall the date, month, season, or year the incident happened -

She never told anyone about it, despite being publicly obsessed with her own sexuality -

The dress she claims to have been wearing didn't exist at the time -

Her description of the dressing room at Bergdorf Goodman was inaccurate, making her sequence of events impossible -

Her lawsuit was bankrolled by Jeffrey Epstein pal and Democrat (and Nikki Haley) mega-donor Reid Hoffman -

Democrats created a law (The Adult Survivors Act in 2022) to enable her lawsuit to proceed - Her accusation is the exact plotline of an episode of Law & Order (one of her "favorite shows") -

Trump's Apprentice was also one of her favorite shows -

She has a history of falsely accusing men of r*pe, including Les Moonves - She told Anderson Cooper, "most people think of r*pe as being sexy. Think of the fantasies." -

She made a career promoting promiscuity, even writing glowingly of sexual assault and naming her cat Vagina

We owe Stalin and Hitler a huge apology. We are ever so bad as they ever were. This isn't Justice. Its punishment for for disobeying the deep state elites.

[rosedpetal]

Workmates

Summary: Ransom Drysdale has been the essence of hell in your life, and now you two are forced to work together.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Authors note: this is a repost, and it was originally a three part fic.

Warnings: smut at the end.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Ransom was staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. The remains of your coffee were sprawled on the cafeteria floor, on the table, and on your - not anymore - white shirt.

"Jesus, Y/N! Are you okay?" Your boss, Emma, the senior partner of the law firm you worked for, asked you while you put your weight on your hands to get balanced enough to get up. You wanted to scream that no, you were not okay. You fell on your fucking knees after being tripped by Ransom. That son of a...

"I'm fine, really." You mumbled, accepting her hand for help. Emma weirdly looked at Ransom. She was probably confused about why he didn't offer you, a lady, his hand. You almost laughed. Ransom Drysdale was no gentleman, and why would he help you when he was the reason you almost broke your kneecaps?

You sighed, trying not to cry. You didn't spare him a second glance, because you knew that if you did, you would end up kicking his groin.

"You don't seem fine, sweetheart." His condescending voice mocked you. "Perhaps we should have this conversation on another day?"

It would be great for him to have this conversation on another day. He and you were fighting for the same promotion in the firm - and you'd been there for the past three years, while the nepo baby had started a few months prior - and it was being a nerve-wracking competition where he would torment you, and you would try not to react.

So much for having some fucking peace.

You spent years studying hard to get a decent-paying job, one that would make your parents' struggle of having a kid in college worth it. You had to be successful. You owed them that.

And while some of your classmates - Ransom Drysdale and his obnoxious rich buddies - partied and failed assignment after assignment, you almost went crazy doing everything you could to get your law degree and pass the bar exam.

You still couldn't get a grasp on how Ransom passed the bar. Back then, he never seemed the studious type, and he never gave you a second glance either - the girl in the front seat, face buried in books, making notes and asking questions all the damn time. You didn't pleasantly catch his eye, either. Most of your female classmates had tans for spending weekends on sunny beaches, had better wardrobes than you, and could have meals without feeling guilty because the money spent on it wouldn't make a difference in their bank accounts.

You envied them. But most of the time, you couldn't be allowed to feel sorry for yourself when there was such a long journey to complete.

It was for the best, in the end. You got into a renowned law firm and paid off your student loans. With your new income, you could finally afford a good apartment, treat your parents and give yourself luxuries you never dreamed about.

And just after you finally started thriving, Ransom fucking Drysdale got a job offer at the same firm, and he dared to look surprised when he saw you working there.

You were the one who should be surprised. Ransom was a total airhead - and that was a compliment. How the fuck a lazy rich man-child passed the fucking bar when he didn't bother even attending classes?

Why is life so fucking unfair?

“You dozed off a little, sweetheart." Ransom stated while you stared at Emma.

"I think we should have this conversation now, I can just put a sweater over my shirt." You tried to put on a calm voice but you cringed at how you sounded distressed.

Damn right you were about to cry.

"Hmm, okay." Emma stared at the two of you back and forth. She was too damn smart to not see through your poor excuse of a friendly façade with Ransom, but she was also kind enough to not say a thing about it.

"I gave it a thought, and while you, Hugh, are way above the expectations for your lack of experience; Y/N's been the top attorney of this firm for years. It's not really a fair comparison."

It's really fucking not, Emma! You wanted to yell at her face but forced a smile at the compliment. 

"So, I had this amazing idea." she continued, and you started to panic. While Emma was brilliant she could be so naive with her ideas. She looked at you. "You get the promotion and take Hugh under your wing. You'll work on your cases together, and he gets more experience... What do you think?

Before you could answer her, Ransom smiled like a kid in a candy shop.

"We're gonna work so well together, Y/N!" The bastard grinned. "Thank you for the opportunity, Emma, it means the world to me."

You wished the earth opened up and swallowed you up.

Your new office was way bigger, just as much as the dread in your veins. It had a nice view of Boston from your giant glass windows, and you couldn't even enjoy it because of your new work buddy.

"Good morning, boss!" His voice chanted behind you, and you turned to face him, angrily. "Why the face? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

You breathed in, out, in, out. Maybe if you counted to ten, you wouldn't throw him out the window. You pictured the noise his body would make once it hit the ground, and suddenly, you were in a lighter mood.

"No, a little bitch tripped me and I couldn't enjoy it. But I just know you're going to be a sweetheart and get me another one." You pronounced the word 'sweetheart' with vengeance. 

"How do you like your coffee, sweetheart?" He mimicked and smiled at you, unfazed. 

Oh, the realization hit you. He was totally gonna spit on your precious coffee.

"Nevermind, I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore." You answered him quickly, trying to ignore his disturbing existence and adjusting your things. You were an organized person, and all the files of your current cases were organized inside a big archive box.

You sat on your new chair and placed your laptop on your new desk while Ransom was still staring at you like a moron.

"What?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended.

"Just thinking. I should've given you more attention in college. Maybe I would be sitting on your chair and you would be the one fantasizing about spitting on my coffee."

You snorted and he looked at you, amused. You were caught off guard too.

After that little moment, the first day working with him went by surprisingly well. You went over cases, spoke with clients and he took everything in gracefully. You were still mad at him, how couldn't you be? He was a fucking brat, and he was an ass with you for no reason.

Well, he had a reason but it wasn't a good motive. He tried to bully you to quit, how fucked up in the head that could be? If work was high school, Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be the mean cheerleader captain.

When you were about to leave for the day, grabbing your coat and your bag, Ransom stopped you.

"Hey, wanna have a drink tonight?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Absolutely fucking not, Drysdale."

He just shrugged, and you went straight home.

After a few weeks, Ransom started growing on you. On a particularly rough morning, when a client was being a pain on your and Ransom's existences, he brought you coffee after noticing you were on the verge of crying.

"Don't let it get to you, Y/N. God knows I don't." He offered with a tight smile. You were too tired to make a snarky comment about him being an actually decent human being, so you just sipped on your coffee before you went full sobbing.

Those damned female hormones.

Ransom cleared his throat.

"Ok, this is awkward." He clarified. Between crying and sniffing, you weren't really surprised at how emotionally stunted Ransom was. 

It was comical. He stood there, not knowing what to do. And then, he patted your head.

He actually patted your head. Like you were a fucking dog. You were so stunned at the gesture that you didn't even realize it when you started laughing.

You threw your head back, new tears forming on your eyes. You laughed so hard that your tummy hurt.

Ransom laughed with you too. Like genuinely laughing. Who would say such a thing could happen?

You rolled over, grabbing your front and trying to catch your breath.

You didn't notice, but you started growing on him too.

Your work dynamics with Ransom were almost perfect. You finally felt like you could trust him to do some work on his own, so you let him be on some paperwork while you finished others.

The weather began to get chilly by the end of your office hours and Ransom invited you to his place to get over a file again, to which you stupidly agreed. So you followed his car, getting a little anxious.

When he finally pulled over, you were quite surprised at how cozy the two-story house looked. It wasn't something you expected for a single man. 

He even had a white fence!

He smiled at you when you walked through the door, taking in the dim lights, the fireplace in the living room, and his big kitchen. You wondered if he cooked his own meals.

"Wine?" He offered, already pouring a bottle of some expensive delicacy you've never tasted. You only bought cheap drinks, maybe too worried to spend so much money on such a frivolous thing after how you struggled financially growing up.

"Just a glass, I don't wanna get dizzy." You accepted the glass in his extended hand and took a little sip.

You never even read the file you were supposed to.

Ransom started to babble about how he bought this home after passing the bar exam, excited to start a new journey in his life, where he could be his own person and have something he achieved for himself, instead of working with his grandfather for the rest of his life.

Listening to his life story, his fucked up family, and how he self-doubted he could actually succeed without their money and connections made you feel a little more sympathetic toward him.

Because while you resented him for having the life you only dreamed of, his privileges got in his way of flourishing. And despite all of your struggles, you had loving parents that nurtured you into the woman you were now.

"Do you know I used to despise you?" You let the words slip off your mouth before you could stop them. "You infuriated me. I hated how carefree you were in college because you could fail and you would still have new opportunities. It was my only chance. I worked so hard, and then I saw you at the firm and..."

He looked at you, expectantly.

"I doubted you. And after Emma stated that the promotion was for me or you, and you began to make my work hours a living hell, I even contemplated looking for another job."

Ransom scoffed.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Say that to my knees, Ransom."

He chuckled. 

"If it makes it better, I didn't think you were going to get hurt."

You lifted your brown and sipped on your wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to pour more, but you stopped him by putting your hand over his. His eyes moved to yours, and then to your lips.

He didn't hesitate when your lips reached for his, eager and passionate. Your body began moving to its own accord, straddling his lap on the leather couch, his hands on your waist, groping your ass, on the back of your neck pulling your hair to leave a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbones...

You yelped when he ripped your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. He cupped your breasts over your bra, savoring your beautiful body over him.

"You have no idea of how much I fantasized about this, Y/N" His breath fanned your ear, and he sucked on your earlobe, almost taking your earring off. You let out a little gasp when his hands reached under your skirt. "I always knew the promotion was yours. But seeing you mad was such a turn-on."

Your eyes shot open. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I wasn't just mad, Drysdale. I was having the worst time of my life since college! I can't believe you right now" You got off his lap easily, and he didn't try to stop you.

"Don't be like that, Y/N, I already apologized-" He started, but you cut him off quickly:

"And just because you said your sorry words it means everything is fixed, uh?" You scoffed at him, grabbing your bag on the kitchen counter. "See you on Monday, asshole."

You stormed off his house, ready to drown in regret for kissing him. 

Because now that you did, you couldn't get the tingling feeling off your lips and the longing for more.

You were dreading the moment you'd have to get up from your bed and go to work. The weekend went by really quick, but also really slow (the waves of anxiety tormenting your thoughts were responsible for that).

Monday morning, after brushing your teeth angrily, sipping on your tea angrily, and almost tearing the zipper of your favorite pencil skirt, you took a breath and asked yourself why you were so worried. Ransom wasn't really that important (except he was, and not even you could deny it for much longer).

You were angry at yourself. That night you were at his place, drank his wine, and also, you made the first move. When have you become so bold? 

And then, you snapped at him and had to become sexually frustrated too.

It's like I hate myself or something, you thought, grabbing the designer bag Emma gave you on your birthday and putting your belongings in it.

Maybe I should just quit, move to another country and start a new life. Okay, you were being too dramatic, but how could you face him now?

You weren't brazen like Ransom. For all you knew about him, he could kick a puppy on the street and go on with his life like nothing happened later. 

But you? You calculated your life at the smallest details, meticulously navigating through all your milestones and you never strayed. You tried to be the nicest person on the earth, because life was already hard as it was. You couldn't just snap one day and let it all go down to drain.

"Why that face, Y/N?" One of your colleagues asked when you entered the building. You bit the remark on your tongue and just said you had too much to drink the night before.

Jesus. You had a resting bitch face. Should you get botox?

Almost getting lost in your thoughts (you couldn't really ignore the anxiousness at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill back the contents of your breakfast), you got in the elevator, pressed the button to your floor, and let your back rest against the metal doors.

The door opened, and your gaze lowered to your black scarpins. Ransom cleared his throat, mouthing a low "good morning". You held your breath when his cologne filled your nostrils. It seemed ten times stronger now, hitting you with vengefulness.

Why did he have to smell so good? You never noticed a man's perfume before, they all seemed pretty much the same to you, and you never noticed Ransom's either until recently.

Until you were straddling his lap, getting intoxicated by it.

"Did someone steal your teddy bear or something?" He asked abruptly, turning to face you. "Can we not be awkward right now?"

"It's too late for that." You replied in a weird voice, shifting the weight of your feet to the other. Ransom rolled his eyes.

"And why the hell are you so pale? When was the last time you ate?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose in your thumb and index finger. You just ate, he's just being an asshole, Y/N, you reminded yourself.

"Are you seriously gonna pretend I'm not talking to you right now? How can you-"

"Ransom, SHUT UP!" You yelled, surprising you both with the tone of your voice. "Sorry, I just- can we not do this right now?"

He sighed. When you reached the floor of your office, Ransom went first, stomping his feet. You almost smiled, he was such a child. 

As he walked in front of you, you couldn't help but notice his peachy bottom.

"Were you checking me out just right now?"

"Yeah, you could use some squats." You stopped daydreaming and replied in a sassy tone, putting your bag on your desk and crossing your arms on your chest. Your eyes reached his and your expression softened. "Look, Ransom, I'm so sorry about that night. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so mortified. That was really uncalled for. And unprofessional. I understand if you want to go to HR and get me a complaint." You word-vomited, speaking so fast that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't get a thing of what you just said.

His eyes widened and he gave you a short, humorless laugh.

"Why the hell would I do that to you, woman? I was giving you signs the whole evening. I wanted that for so long, and I'm so fucking mad at you right now for apologizing for the wrong reason!"

"Ransom, I-" You tried to reason, but he cut you off.

"No, you shut your fucking mouth now, Y/N. I even gave you space because I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to text just to never press 'send'? And now you apologize for kissing me? You should apologize for leaving me with a damn boner-"

"Lower your voice!" You half whispered half yelled at him, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. His jaw clenched, and he got closer to you. When you were face to face, he punctuated in a low tone:

"I'm tired of your bullshit. Do you think having your whole life planned will get you everything you want? I see a frustrated woman who can't let her guard down and can't even get laid".

His breath was mixing with yours, words cruelly spit, and you felt your nostrils flare with anger. He kept going as if he didn't humiliated you enough:

"It's actually for the best. You're probably a bad fuck, anyway."

You turned on your heels with balled fists on your sides and chose to ignore him, otherwise, you would really give him a reason to go to HR.

The two of you were back to square one. He would be a little shit to you, and you would try your best not to punch his face. You were glad he was your protégée and not the other way around - you didn't like to think what he could do to you in a position of power.

On lunch break, you got yourself a salad with grilled chicken, not really hungry. As you sat to eat with one of your work friends at the restaurant across the street from the building, you spotted Ransom talking to a woman from another floor. She was twisting one of her locks in her finger and laughing at something he was saying. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, and went back to eat your salad.

"He's so hot" Lizzie sighed, daydreaming. "How can you work with him and not be head over heels?"

"Just talk to him for a minute and you'll know why." You seethed and chewed on your lettuce.

"That lady over there seems quite fond of him." She went on, not picking on your mood shift. "Look at that nice piece of ass over there! And those muscles under those sweaters? I'd let him choke me to death with those arms".

"Please, shut up." You begged. "I'm about to throw up".

"Stop being a prude." She rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, that bitch is so lucky, she's probably thinking about-"

"Oh my God, Elizabeth, I'm not eating with you anymore." You interrupted her monologue and she eyed you curiously.

"What's your deal with him? You two slept together or something?" You didn't dignify her with an answer and her eyes widened. "Oh God! You totally did-"

"Shush!" You pressed your index finger on her lips. "We didn't, but we kissed. And this conversation is over. I refuse to talk about it ever again."

You must've sound really serious, because she actually dropped the subject.

With a blink of your eye, the week was over. Your interactions with Ransom were getting more mechanical and since you showed no interest in engaging with his childish games he stopped disturbing your peace.

Lizzie respected your wish to not talk about Ransom for longer than you expected, just bringing the topic once to coerce you to go out with her Friday night.

And that was the reason you were wearing a shiny pink bodycon dress with thin straps and white high heels, in a long ass line to get inside a shady dance club. Lizzie was talking nonstop in your ear, and you just listened, bored and in need of a drink.

When you finally got in, she dragged you to a booth and ordered cocktails for you two.

"Let's get you loosened up to drop the constipated face!" She yelled over the music and you glared at her angrily, sipping on your glass and probably making a face.

"What the hell?" You weren't drinking that. God, that was so disgusting, whatever that drink was made of it was fucking terrible. You got up to the bar to get something else, and then, you saw him.

Ransom was sitting with his friends and with a pretty brunette stuck on his side, almost on his lap. He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned his head and he locked eyes with you.

Fuck.

Okay, you weren't a coward. You could play it cool. Breaking eye contact, you went to the bar and ordered a piña colada, and as you were waiting for your drink, you felt someone's hand touching your arm.

Sighing, you looked back, ready to fight the asshole who was touching you without your permission.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw Ransom with a smirk on his face.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm a terrible fuck." You grinned and he laughed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, probably from drinking.

"One of my buddies over there asked if you were single."

"Oh. I'm not interested" you stated.

"Don't worry, I told him that you have gonorrhea."

Your blood boiled.

"What? Are you insane, Drysdale? I'm going to fucking sue you, you stupid son of a bitch!" You index finger were on his face and he broke in a fit of laughter, his hand resting on his stomach.

"I'm just kidding, god, your face!" He managed to say between his stupid giggles. You rolled your eyes and went to the booth to find Lizzie.

How could someone be so insufferable? It was like a gift.

"I'm offended that you didn't like my drink." Lizzie pouted at you, already drunk. Yeah, you could see how the night was going to end. You holding her hair while she emptied her stomach on the toilet.

"Girl, take it easy." You rolled your eyes. "You won't believe who I just saw".

"Mr. Drysdale?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Oh." You barely finished your sentence and she moved her head, pointing to him, sitting in front of you in your booth. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Can we talk?"

"No!"

"Yes."

You looked at Lizzie, feeling betrayed. She got up and left you alone with him, that little bitch.

"Okay, Drysdale, humor me."

"I miss you?"

"It sounds like a question, not an statement." You shook your head to him. "And don't you have an arm candy waiting for you over there?"

The girl he was with minutes ago stared at you with bitterness, her crimson red lips curled in a thin line.

His eyebrow rose. "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?"

"In your dreams, Drysdale. Just thought you'd like to go back to her, since she's marching over here looking royally pissed."

When Ransom turned his head to look, she was already throwing her drink on his face.

"You are the worst date ever!" She screamed and left, stomping her feet like she was throwing a tantrum.

Serves him right for going out with a girl that barely looked old enough to drink.

You folded your arms over your chest and smiled at him. His hair was wet, and the drink was dripping from his chin, also wetting his shirt.

You were wrong, going out tonight was totally worth it.

Somehow, you, Lizzie and Ransom left the club together.

Well, more like he was helping you carry the woman and get her taken care of.

Without complaining (for your surprise), Ransom secured Lizzie in his arms while she threw up on the street outside of the club whilst you held her hair; got an Uber for you guys and helped you put her in the backseat; picked her up bridal style while you searched for her keys on her JW Pei bag; tuck her in bed gently while you got a glass of water and aspirin for her and left them on her nightstand.

You two mumbled good night to Lizzie, and she replied in drunk gibberish. 

When you left her apartment, you locked the door on the outside and slipped the key back inside under it. 

And just like that, you two were alone, and you suddenly became aware of that and the silence.

Ransom's hair was a little messy, but you never thought of him so handsome as he was in that moment. His blue eyes bored into yours like a silent plead.

You wondered if you two would ever understand each other.

It seemed like hours, but only seconds have passed. His body got closer to yours, and he grabbed your middle, pulling you into him. You let out a little whimper when his forehead rested into yours, noses touching.

"Please, don't run away now." He begged, his voice hoarse. His skin was a little sticky, probably from the sugary drink thrown on him earlier.

You answered by claiming his lips with yours.

You moaned softly, feeling your lips swollen. Ransom kissed you breathless, unlocking his front door and dragging you inside with him. He pulled you by the back of your thighs to straddle his hips and squeezed your ass cheeks roughly. The hem of your mini dress was already rolled up to your stomach, giving him free access.

You knew you wouldn't be able to get to his bedroom.

He lowered you into his leather couch, taking his shirt off the next second. You bit your lip while taking him in - he looked like a damn god. 

Fuck my life, you thought.

Driven by lust, you grabbed him by his belt and clumsily unbuckled it, cussing at it. He chuckled lowly and helped you, lowering his jeans of his toned legs along with his boxers. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock: long, thick, hard and leaking for you.

You looked at him through your eyelashes and moistened him with your saliva, rolling your tongue sinfully on the red tip while he watched you with a clenched jaw, using his hands to put your hair on a ponytail.

"You did not learn how to suck dick like a pro until after college, that's for sure." He mocked you, and you pinched the inside of his thigh. Ransom hissed at you, and completed: "''Cause you were too busy studying to practice thiiiiis-" He moaned, curling his toes when you finally took him in your mouth the best you could. 

You felt your panties getting wetter and your jaw ache. You bobbed your head, slowly at first, getting used to his thickness. Your dominant hand jerked the rest of him off, and the other grabbed his butt to force him deeper into your throat.

You drooled all over your chin, feeling tears prick on your eyes when he picked up the pace and face-fucked you. You gagged and tried your best to breathe through your nose, while Ransom let the dirtiest sequence of curses leave his mouth.

He stopped the assault on your throat abruptly, and lift your body up by your hair slowly.

"I'm gonna cum on that sweet mouth some other time, I need to be inside of you now." He sat you on the couch and pulled your dress off your body.

He kissed you again, impatient this time, lowering his hand to your panties and ripping them. He threw the destroyed lace on the floor and rubbed his fingers on your slickness, lubricating his fingers. He slipped one inside of you and you moaned at the entrance, massaging his tongue with yours.

He added another finger and curled them inside of you, earning a gasp from you. You screamed when Ransom started scissoring you in a fast pace, unprepared for it. Your high was building fast, and you came on his fingers, getting his hand wet with your juices.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You cried out when he didn't stop, convulsing again and sobbing on his mouth. He retreated his fingers from you and laid you on the couch, then stroked his cock with his hand, rubbing the tip on your clit. You moaned and he sank on you, making you tense with the intrusion.

Slowly, he bottomed you out. He grabbed your hips, and your legs wrapped around him, urging him to move.

He moved back.

And slammed back in.

You cried out in surprise, while he fastened his pace and fucked you good. 

"Yes baby, this fucking cunt is mine now." He groaned and rubbed your clit with his thumb, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it".

"It's yours-oh God-" You cried out. Ransom showed you no mercy while he fucked you, making your insides burn and build that familiar coil again. His hips snapped into yours with vengeance, making your eyes roll back on your skull. No sound left your mouth when you came again, shaking. Ransom pulled out and came on your stomach, making the sexiest sounds you've ever heard from a man before.

He fell on your side, calming his breathing. Ransom threw his arm around you and kissed your temple gently.

"We're gonna take a bath and find out a way to tell Emma that we're a thing now". 

You smiled, closing your eyes and hoping he would carry you to that bath, because there's no way you could walk now.

[rainbowsky]

Has the competition for ranking in the domestic entertainment industry reached the Magnolia Awards?

Original Entertainment Management Studio 2024-06-01 06: 30 Beijing

On May 30, after the shortlist of the Magnolia Awards for the 29th Shanghai TV Festival was announced, not only "xx was nominated" but also "xxx was not nominated" caused heated discussion.

The controversy centered on the two awards of "TV King" and "TV Queen". Among them, among the nominations for best actor, there are Ding Yongdai of "South and North" and Wang Yang of "War of Faith". However, some netizens discovered that when the official lineup of "War of Faith" was announced, Wang Yang was ranked third as the leading star, while Wang Yibo, who was ranked first as the leading star, was not nominated. The topic #白Magnolia was nominated without Wang Yibo# became a hot search on Weibo.

The same situation happened in "South to North". When the official Weibo announced the cast, the first leading actor was Bai Jingting, and the second was Ding Yongdai. #Bai Jingting is not nominated for Magnolia Awards# also became a hot search.

In the eyes of some netizens, "No. 1" is equivalent to "protagonist", and "No. 2" and "No. 3" are supporting roles. So, is this "ranking" trend in the domestic entertainment industry really equivalent to the judging logic of Magnolia Awards?

How to apply for a Magnolia?

As one of the three major awards for Chinese TV dramas, the Magnolia Award has always been regarded as an "industry award" and represents the vane of the domestic TV industry. The annual Best Actor and Best Actress awards are the highest recognition of actors in the field of TV dramas, and have become the focus of attention of various actors and fans.

Under the official Weibo of the Shanghai TV Festival's announcement of the shortlist, you can see countless fans' Amway* copywriting. In addition to actors such as Hu Ge, Yang Zi, and Tang Yan who have been nominated, fans of artists whose related works have been nominated also want to "get involved" in this joyous occasion. For example, the variety show "The Heart-Stirring Offer 5" was nominated, and fans of He Junlin, one of the guests, also congratulated He Junlin in the comment section.

*RBS note - 'Amway' essentially means 'intense and over-the-top, cult-like'.

On the other hand, although "War of Faith" was nominated for multiple Magnolia Awards, fans of the lead actor Wang Yibo were not happy. In their view, when "War of Faith" was officially announced, Wang Yang was the "third" male supporting role, and Wang Yibo was the first male lead, but Wang Yang was submitted for "Best Actor" and was nominated. As a result, fans began to protest on a large scale under the relevant Weibo of Magnolia, the film company, and the producer.

The Yuli Studio read the "2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Regulations" and found that in principle, the male and female lead awards are filled in with 1 person each, that is, the first male and female lead. The first male and female lead must play a pivotal role in promoting the plot and have an indispensable and important role. If there are indeed multiple male or female leads, the maximum number of people to be filled in is 2, and both must occupy a relatively large part in the play.

2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Rules

A film producer told Yuli Studio that because the Magnolia Award has requirements for the role, the film producer will definitely nominate the two leading actors with the most roles, and will not select them according to the ranking, nor will there be a situation where the "second male lead" is not reported but the "first male lead". If there are really not enough places, supporting roles will be reported.

The case of "Flowers" can also prove this application logic. When the official Weibo of "Flowers" announced the lineup, the ranking of the three actresses was Ma Yili, Tang Yan and Xin Zhilei. But according to The Paper, when the "Flowers" film producer applied, he believed that the three actresses in the play were all heroines, and each of them was very outstanding, so he communicated with the organizing committee and registered all three. In the end, only Tang Yan was shortlisted for the best actress.

It can be inferred from this that Wang Yibo and Wang Yang are both the leading actors in "War of Faith" and are also the top two male actors with the most roles, so the film crew will also report these two actors when submitting. Similarly, the crew of "South to North" should also report the top two male actors with the most roles, Bai Jingting and Ding Yongdai.

On May 31, Nandu Entertainment reported that an insider said that the "War of Faith" crew did report Wang Yibo and Wang Yang for the best actor. Both Bai Jingting and Wang Yibo appeared in the second round of voting for the best actor of this year's Magnolia Award, but after the review vote, they did not enter the final shortlist.

At the same time, in terms of the submitter, the "2024 29th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award TV Series Category Regulations" stipulate that the registration is by individuals or institutions that own the copyright of the program, and one party must be determined as the applicant. Generally speaking, the submitter is the first producer, that is, the video platform. So the submitter of "War of Faith" should be iQiyi.

However, even with the written rules and industry reports, fans don't seem to buy it.

Where did the controversy come from?

Judging from the protests of Wang Yibo's fans, the biggest controversy is that fans believe that Wei Ruolai, played by Wang Yibo in "War of Faith", is the absolute and only male lead. Whether it is investment promotion or popularity, it is all carried by Wang Yibo. Therefore, the film company should not submit the best actor for Wang Yang, who is the "third lead", and compete with the "first lead" Wang Yibo in the same award.

So, are the rankings recognized by fans consistent with the "leading role" recognized by the industry? In addition to the first leading actor on the official list, the "first lead" recognized by fans also includes whether the script content revolves around the only protagonist, whether the protagonist has the most scenes, whether the various trailers released spend the most time on the first lead, and whether the above recognition has been mentioned in the interview with the main creators, etc.

However, in the selection rules of the Magnolia Awards, it is mentioned that if there are indeed multiple male protagonists or multiple female protagonists, the maximum number of people to be reported is 2, and all must occupy a relatively large part in the play. It can be found that when the official Weibo of "War of Faith" announced the lineup, Wang Yang was one of the leading actors. Secondly, the plot synopsis of "War of Faith" also mentioned that Wei Ruolai's plot mainly unfolds after he meets Shen Tunan, and forms a control group with Shen Tunan. Therefore, whether it is the title or the plot, there is no problem for the film company to apply for the Magnolia Award for Wang Yang as the "leading actor". And since the Magnolia Awards officially announced the shortlist, it also means that Shen Tunan, played by Wang Yang, meets the Magnolia Award's "leading actor" standard.

War of Faith original casting announcement from 2023: Starring in the leading role: Wang Yibo, Starring in the leading role: Li Qin, Starring in the leading role: Wang Yang.

Judging from the list of winners of the Magnolia Award for Best Actor in previous years, Lei Jiayin, who won the 28th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award for Best Actor for "The World", is not the only leading actor. Yu Hewei, who won the 27th Shanghai TV Festival Magnolia Award for Best Actor for "Awakening Age", is one of the protagonists, and was even ranked after Zhang Tong, who played Li Dazhao, when the official announcement was made.

The application of "Fang Hua" also proves that a drama can have multiple "protagonists". It can be seen that the "protagonist" standard recognized by the Magnolia Awards is not the same as the "ranking" standard in the minds of fans.

How do "the male protagonist" and "the female protagonist" influence creation ?

Therefore, the so-called "number one", absolute male protagonist and female protagonist are more of a self-entertainment statement of the fan circle, which is unprofessional and does not respect the rules of creation.

When the main creator is creating, if they are disturbed by the "male protagonist" and "female protagonist", the role will become to serve the actors rather than the plot and the characters. Under normal circumstances, the male and female protagonists and even the main supporting roles should have a complete growth line to show how their personalities are developed? What are the relationships between the characters around them? But if you blindly give way to the "male protagonist" and "female protagonist", other characters will lose their normal behavioral logic and become tools of "what the other party needs me to do, I will do", and the logic of the whole drama will collapse.

For example, "Changyue Jinming" was questioned by netizens that in order to set off the male protagonist, the female protagonist was arranged to fall in love with the male protagonist who had a "grudge against the extermination of the family", and the tragic female supporting role was also reduced to the "background board" of the love between the male and female protagonists, and was devalued by the protagonist as worthless; in order to make the male protagonist have a righteous aura, he, who was originally a villain and wanted to kill everyone, suddenly became a benevolent king in the middle of the series, and was criticized by the audience for his illogicality.

Secondly, the trend of "fighting for ranking" also forces the film producers to "perform" all kinds of fancy words when making official announcements in order not to offend artists and fans. For example, when Yu Zheng officially announced "Five Fortunes", in order to prevent all parties from tearing up the rankings, he designed a "Ferris wheel rotating ranking". This kind of effort that is not beneficial to creation is a practice of chasing "face" without looking at "inside" under helplessness.

It can be found that whether it is the past "Awakening Age", "The World", "Kuangbi", or 2024's "Flower" and "Celebrating Yu Nian 2", these hit dramas that have been authenticated by multiple data are not "big male lead" or "big female lead" dramas centered on one person, but "all members are on the table", triggering group portrait dramas that break the circle of discussion. At the New Wave Forum on "How to make a hit drama and a hit person", Sun Hongzhi, director of TV drama operations at Tencent Video, also mentioned that the industry's effective broadcast standards are user value, economic value and industry value. And these three types of value cannot be brought by "big male lead" or "big female lead" alone.

Essentially, the controversy is still the "disease" of the "rank cancer" in the domestic entertainment industry. People who are keen on "ranking" mistakenly equate the rank with the value of the actors, and regard the ranking as an important capital for business negotiations and rights protection. However, the rank is only the "face", and what is truly recognized by the industry or even passers-by is the "inside". The so-called "number one" and "only male and female protagonists" do not equal achievements, nor can they directly bring exposure, growth opportunities and business resources.

In this year's Magnolia Awards, Liu Lin, who was not nominated but was on the hot search, also "running with" for ten years. Under the entry #Liu Lin has been running with Baiyulan for ten years#, many netizens expressed their regret for her and mentioned her countless classic roles.

It can be found that although excellent actors have not been nominated, they have long been uncrowned kings in the hearts of the audience. As Liu Lin once said, "I am not in a hurry to be famous or popular, but I can still work diligently in the acting industry."

[otterdrawz]

STEX: Enterprise Electrics

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Starlight express oc’s

“Introducing the enterprise electrics! The new and improved next generation of electric engine; the new future!”

The Enterprise Electrics are a group of fan made characters based on the musical, Starlight Express. “Enterprise,” the futuristic electric engine, is inspired by the star trek star ship, Enterprise, embodying the futuristic theme and strive for new inventions and discovery. The rest of the components made as the original enterprise electrics include Enterprise’s repair truck, Pulse, and Enterprise’s security truck, Exodus. The rest of the components have unique stories as to how they joined the electrics, including being reassigned to Enterprise from different electrics engines, being re-purposed as a component, or being invited to join.

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See Full Notion for OC Creator Credits

Full Notion Page: https://satisfying-comb-da9.notion.site/Enterprise-Electrics-19b5ade41a9b80a68923d40214118e82?pvs=4

“Introducing, our newest engine, ENTERPRISE! Sporting the latest and most advanced technology, setting them apart from the outdated electrics of our time. They will lead the next line of trains into the new future!”

Name: Enterprise Gender: Genderfluid Pronouns: They/She/He Role: Electric Engine

Backstory: Enterprise was made to be the next generation of electrical engines, sporting advanced hardware and mechanics that forced electrical advancements into competition. They immediately went into service as a high speed passenger train, but also as racing engine after discovering the racing scene. Much of their work is mostly racing to promote/advertise their advanced build. In their early life as an engine, they were often the target of other electrics wrath. Many didn’t like the fact they were considered the next generation, and saw them as a threat as new electrics would replace the old, so they were often picked on and harassed. Their repair truck, Pulse, was always there for them whenever they got into unwanted tussles, and helped fix them up after a majorly targeted crash during one of their first races. When things got out of hand, they were assigned a security truck so that they had extra protection whilst they were getting used to their shiny new life. That’s when their security truck, Exodus, was added to their crew ! The rest of the components were either recruited or reassigned to Enterprise in various ways.

Personality: Enterprise is an outgoing individual with a lot of self confidence, rarely to a self absorbent level but on occasion can be that way. They’re fairly approachable if not intimidating others with their masked appearance, which they often wear nearly all the time when outside the shed or with their components. They have a lot of fun with playful and antagonistic banter and teasing, antagonizing their enemies but being more playful to those they are close or friendly with. They often like to flaunt their new gen. Technology and advancements -> FULL BIO <-

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“Pulse online. Systems check: normal.”

Name: Pulse

Gender: unknown

Pronouns: he/they

Role: repair truck

Backstory: Pulse was made specifically to be Enterprise’s repair truck, as the engine’s right hand train, he is often cleaning up their fellow component’s messes along with offering his services to other trains in the yard.

Personality: stoic, blunt (bordering on rude honestly) but within the privacy of the electric shed, he is sweet and loving.

Quirks: his mask often betrays his feelings with a pixelated face, it also does “idle animations” when they stand still for too long, as much as their partners love his vitiligo and heterochromia, it’s a sore spot for the repair truck

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“EX0DUS online. Opposition nil.”

Name: EX0DUS

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her, They/them

Role: Security Component

Backstory: The EX0DUS, or more affectionately coined as Exo, was commissioned as a security component for Enterprise Electrics in the early days of establishment; deeming her one of the longest serving and first components. She is learning to form her own consciousness and individuality but often struggles against the deeply rooted programming in her systems to serve and eradicate, and nothing more. This often gets her into trouble, as her desire and purpose to protect her kin at all costs often overrules critical thinking, even though she cannot help it. Her commitment to Enterprise and the electrics is undying, and she would lay her life down for them without question or thought. Years ago, she lost her left arm in a brutal entanglement protecting Enterprise; and such is now replaced by a powerful bionic arm that serves her well and exudes strength and prowess.

Personality: Her personality is a difficult thing to navigate; though she can be perceived by outsiders to the electrics as intimidating and off putting. She evokes fear with ease. She was designed to protect and destroy, and it’s often hard for her to cope with emotions and feelings. There are long periods of time where she won’t speak, but is still content. However with her partners and fellow components, Exodus can be sweet and quietly affectionate in rare moments.

She can also be quite naive about things and inquisitive to new discoveries.

She cannot however deny, that she gets a kick out of combat; and is often enticed and riled up by such. Once The EX0DUS has a target, she is very difficult to redirect.

Quirks: Exodus is very aloof and often a little strange when not on duty. She is always studying things and the structure of such; and has a great fascination with nature and plants. Her absolute favourites are butterflies.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

"Vidalia online! Ready for Showtime!”

Name: Vidalia

Gender: Female

Pronouns: They/She

Role: Entertainment Truck

Backstory

Vidalia grew and performed in a circus as their clown/jester making people laugh and doing tricks that could be deemed dangerous. When Enterprise came to the circus they took a liking to them and decided to ask Vidalia if they'd like to go back with them and the others which they happily agreed too, bringing Stripes along with them since they've been together always.

Personality

• Vidalia is happy go lucky closely compared to an excited puppy who loves to make people laugh

• They can be a bit forgetful when it comes to somethings often looking to the others when they get a bit confused

• They're also very artsy usually drawing little doodles of the others or things they notice when out and about

• With their years in the circus they are use showing off their goofy self becoming confident in who they are, though that also leads to them not really knowing how to settle down in slow moments

Quirks

• They tend to forget they're in the sun sometimes with how distracted they are causing them to overheat in those times

• When they were in the circus doing dangerous tricks they sometimes went wrong causing Vidalia to get hurt and needing to get fixed

• They have doodled on their arms sometimes, usually galaxy or nature themed things, when they get bored

• When it's time to have calm moments it gets hard for them since they've always known to be excitable and bouncy, they're not really use to calming down outside of sleeping

• Has a fascination with fennec foxes after seeing a video of them once

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

“Stripes online, locked and loaded.”

Name: Stripes

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/They

Role: Dynamite truck

Backstory: Stripes was in the circus with Vidalia as the manager for the pyrotechnics in the circus. She was also there as a bodyguard, hence her ability to fight and throw strong punches. When Enterprise came to take Vidalia, Stripes also offered herself up for work as a dynamite truck and keep an eye on Vidalia.

Personality: Very stoic and blunt. She talks as little as she needs to and often comes off very scary or rude. However for those who know her, her body language can be picked up on and those slight changes can indicate happiness, excitement, etc.

Quirks: TBD

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

“Zero online. Protocol: Cryogenics standing by.”

Name: Zero

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: They/Them

Role: Freezer truck

Backstory:Zero is a prototype cryogenic freezer truck that uses liquid nitrogen for cooling. Originally, Zero was shipped off to another engine by their creators, but that engine deeply mistreated Zero. This eventually resulted in an incident where excess strain and unsafe conditions caused Zero’s nitrogen tank to explode. After this incident, Zero was taken back by their creators, who did extensive research before shipping Zero out to Enterprise, who they’ve been with ever since.

Personality: Very robotic. Comes off as very cold (heh), aloof, and stoic. Serious case of Resting Bitch Face. Very straightforward. Fiercely protective and eager to please, has a calm demeanor towards the rest of the components, really only soft towards any of them. Doesn’t show emotion outwardly and hard to read.

Quirks: Will let the other components and Enterprise do literally anything to them. Not a big fan of others touching them (touch them and you’ll probably get a cold burn), but gladly lets the other electrics pile all over them. Has a series of vents in their cheeks, torso, and back that sometimes release fog, cold or hot air, or nitrogen gas. Unusually computery even by component standards and speaks and acts in extremely robotic mannerisms. Makes their own ice cream. Assists Exodus with perimeter checks, and also has the added job of emergency cooling if Enterprise or a component overheats. Capable of standing completely still as if frozen, which the others usually take as an opportunity to try to stack objects on them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

　

"Bellatrix online. Monetary goods secure!"

Name: Bellatrix

Gender: Genderqueer (AFAB)

Pronouns: She/They

Role: Bank Safe Car

Backstory:

Bellatrix was originally an old west car partnered to a Steam Train named Quick Draw. After a terrible accident takes place on the tracks, Quick Draw is deemed unrepairable, dying mere hours later with Bellatrix at his side. The locomotives death completely destroys her. Unable to cope with the loss, she hides herself away, letting herself fall into disrepair as she loses the joy in life she once had.

It isn't until years later they're able to see passed the grief and push themself to at least try again. After years of being out of commission, she finds it hard to find a willing engine to couple with her for race, easily overshadowed by shiny new coaches and components, until one day an electric engine needs a quick change out before a race; spotting Bellatrix on the sidelines, they call her over, shocked over such an impressive engine wanting to race with her, Bellatrix finds herself rambling in nervous excitement as she accepts the offer. The race reignites the love and passion they'd always had for racing, and upon seeing this and finding out Bellatrix no longer has racing partner or a place to belong, Enterprise offers for them to become a component, which is easily accepted.

After this, she gets a remodel, keeping her originally purpose but with a shiny new look!

Personality: An excitable and boisterous car with a fierce loyalty to Enterprise and the other Electric components. She's quick to trust and to show love for others, almost unable to keep herself from trying to form bonds/connections wherever she goes. Full of untameable energy.

Quirks: Their excitable nature often leads them into rambling, one thought leading into the next until she has to pause in order to take a deep breath, which is often the only chance others get a word in before she's yapping some more, often needing a gentle reminder to quiet down or let others speak; though they don't do it to be rude.

She LOVES games, often calling any and every game her favourite, just depends on what they're currently playing.

Sometimes is afraid that they embaress the other electrics and tries to tone down their joy in public.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

Name: Voyager

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: they/them

Role: supercapacitor (long-distance power source)

Backstory: Voyager came from a rich family of oil trucks and had been set up from when they were a trainlet to transport oil and get rich doing it. However Voyager was always super academic too and realised slowly that the purpose that they were being raised for was literally terrible for the environment and really wasn't their passion like their parents.

Because of this, they ran away the day before their first day on the tracks. They undertook a risky and experimental procedure to change their purpose from oil freight to *Supercapacitor*, the solution to efficient electric cross-country locomotion. They became enamoured with the missions and ideals of Electricity being the future!!! So when they met Enterprise they basically fell in love with them and what they stood for and begged to join them as a component.

Personality: Voyager is super energetic after becoming a supercapacitor - they can keep Enterprise and up to 4 other components going off-line for up to 6 days!!! However after long journeys they tend to be so overtired they seem drunk, and need to either plug in for a good sleep or lie in the sun for 3 days so that their solar panels can recharge their capacitor plates. They are solar powered for day-to-day activities as well.

They are INCREDIBLY trusting (which is why they agreed to the risky transformation proceedure) but they're also smart, however the trusting tends to win over any common sense or knowledge they have over a situation. This train would fall for "hey it says gullible on the ceiling" an EMBARRASSING amount of times if they trusted the person saying it.

[juju-or-anya]

Every time someone says “Eloise isn’t a real feminist at least Penelope did something” I have to laugh. They are making her out to be Lois Lane when she runs a gossip column. Her feminist action is only for her. She found a way profit of the status quo thats it. Gossip isn’t feminist just because its associated with women. Gossip is how we enforce societal expectations by publicly shaming people and reminding others they can always be shamed. The idea that Penelope is a “better” feminist than Eloise is silly. Im not saying Eloise is a perfect feminist of course she isn’t she is sheltered and had to bribe a maid to learn about sex. No one that sheltered will have fully formed feminist theory or activism. But to say Penelope is a good feminist for her individualist actions is wild.

It's essential to recognize that no woman is a perfect feminist because there is no such thing as a perfect, uniform feminism. Feminism and deconstruction are personal and unique processes that each woman undergoes at her own pace, in her own way, with the information and resources available to her. Feminism is both a social and individual construct, with many facets and branches that reflect the cultural, social, and individual diversity of the women who embrace it.

For example, a high-class, white, Christian, English woman will have a different experience of feminism than a mixed-race, Latina, lower-middle-class woman in Argentina. Each positions herself on a branch of feminism that best represents her context and experiences.

With this framework in mind, my perception of Penelope as a feminist is deeply questionable. Despite founding a lucrative business without a man's help, Penelope did so at the expense of other women, which contradicts fundamental feminist principles. She does not practice sisterhood; she views other women as competitors or tools, as seen in her perception of Marina as a rival and Madame Delacroix as a means to an end. Simply being a woman and self-sustaining does not make her a feminist, as exemplified by Margaret Thatcher. Although Thatcher broke many gender barriers by becoming the first female Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, her conservative policies and lack of support for other women in politics were criticized for not aligning with feminist ideals.

Penelope Featherington presents herself as a woman who has defied social expectations by creating Lady Whistledown, but her practice of undermining other women to elevate herself and profit from it is inconsistent with feminist principles. By using her platform to spread gossip and undermine other women's reputations, Penelope perpetuates a culture of competition and surveillance among women instead of promoting solidarity and mutual support. This behavior is the antithesis of feminism, which seeks to empower all women and fight against the structures of oppression that divide us.

In contrast, Eloise Bridgerton cannot be directly labeled as a feminist, especially considering the historical context of 1815 when feminism as we know it did not yet exist. The first wave of feminism in the United Kingdom began between 1830 and 1840. However, as early as 1792, women like Eloise were starting to question traditional gender roles, laying the groundwork for the future feminist movement.

Eloise represents those early women who, without calling themselves feminists, began to entertain feminist ideas. If we placed Eloise in 1830, we could consider her one of the first feminists, perhaps even actively participating in protests. Eloise seeks to break out of her privileged bubble, learn about the world's realities, and advocate for minority rights, despite the limitations imposed by her time and social position. She is a young woman from a prestigious family, close to royalty, and her quest for freedom is hindered by her family's and society's expectations. Deciding to be a spinster is a radical statement in her context, a direct rejection of social norms dictating that women must marry and be compliant.

Eloise demonstrates a critical attitude towards established norms and a genuine curiosity to understand and challenge the injustices faced by women and minorities. She does not just seek her own benefit but is interested in the well-being of other women and the fight for meaningful societal change. While she cannot be categorized as a feminist in the modern sense, her questioning spirit and desire to break with oppressive traditions align her more with feminist principles than Penelope's actions.

On the other hand, Penelope shows no interest in learning about or advocating for minorities. She wants to belong to and benefit from the privileged social circle, seeking validation and acceptance from high society. To achieve this, she created Lady Whistledown, using rumors and secrets about other women to gain control and monetary gains, demonstrating a competitive and utilitarian view of women. Instead of using her influence to promote equity and support among women, Penelope chooses to manipulate and exploit other women's vulnerabilities for her own benefit.

The lack of sisterhood and the exploitation of other women to gain power and personal profit is profoundly problematic and antithetical to feminism. In her quest for validation and status, Penelope perpetuates a culture of division and distrust among women, something that feminism works hard to dismantle.

For all these reasons, it is absurd and offensive to claim that Penelope is more feminist than Eloise. Eloise, with her desire to challenge norms and learn about injustices, embodies the spirit of feminism much more than Penelope, whose behavior undermines the movement's fundamental principles. The true essence of feminism lies in solidarity, mutual support, and the collective struggle for equity and justice for all women, not in personal gain at the expense of others.

Setting aside the beautiful and very professional text I wrote, Penelope epitomizes the white, privileged woman who plays the victim and believes that because she has suffered, she has the right to make others suffer. Instead of confronting those who truly harmed her, she targets those who have done nothing to her. Her envy of the Bridgertons is so deep that she wants to be like them but also wants to hurt them. This is evident from her comment, "You're just a pretty Bridgerton," and her other remark, "At least I did something; you just talk."

Excuse me, Penelope, but at least Eloise talks to minorities as equals, not as if they were her servants.

[ultimatebabygirlsupremebattle]

It’s that time again! Official sign ups are now open!

For those of you who are new, this is an art tournament dedicated to our favourite babygirl, transfem Leo! This isn’t a heavily competitive tournament, our intention and focus is to give everyone a chance and excuse to brag about their art and their take on transfem Leo, we’re keeping everything fun and friendly here!

Sign ups will be open for two weeks starting today (March 1 - March 15 edit; sign ups have been extended for an extra week! Ending on March 22!) Below, you’ll find our list of rules and criteria, as well as instructions on how to submit your work!

RULES

• Both digital and traditional art is allowed! And it can be anything from a plain sketch to a fully lined and coloured piece!

• We won't be allowing edits, but tracing from the official comics or cartoons is fine! (No tracing of fanart, even with consent)

• NO AI ART! Any AI submitters will be blocked and if art is discovered to be AI at any point in the tournament it will be immediately disqualified!

• All iterations and AUs are welcome!

• Your transfem Leo does not need to identify as female, use she/her pronouns, or be fem-presenting (as much as a turtle can present as any gender anyways). "Trans" in this case is using the umbrella term, and nonbinary identities fall under that! "Fem" here can mean feminine, female presenting, female identifying, or even just using she/her pronouns! (This can get a little tricky to use as a requirement because gender is fake but basically if you think your Leo belongs here then they most likely do)

• The art piece itself must obviously include and focus on our babygirl, but if you want to draw other characters with her you can!

• For those who participated in the first season of the tournament, as long as you didn’t make it to the finals or semi-finals, you can participate again with a new submission!

• No gore, nsfw, or tcest. We don't be promoting any bashing of these things though, DNIs are fine but any variation of "kys" is not okay. Trying to keep things clean and easygoing here!

• If you’re submitting something that is part of an AU that features a triggering topic (self harm, suicide, abuse, CSA, etc.), your submitted work can not contain these topics, and the post that your submission is linked to must contain a trigger warning in the post itself (not in the tags) for those who follow our links and may be interested in seeing more of your AU

To sign up, please send us (via DM ideally):

• A link to the post with your art (so we can link to it during the tournament!)

• Your babygirl’s name (Leonardo, Lee, Leonora, etc.)

• Your babygirl’s pronouns (she/her, he/she, she/they, he/they, etc.)

And that’s it! If you have any questions, our DM’s and ask box are always open!

[prettyinb69ts]

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ᴶᵒᵒ ᴶᵃᵉᵏʸᵘⁿᵍ

Y/N, a rising singer and club promoter known as "Babydoll," is drawn into the intense world of MMA. She catches the attention of two rival fighters-Joo Jaekyung, a fierce, hot-tempered champion, and Damon Michaels, a mysterious, brooding contender. Both men are determined to claim her, igniting a heated competition both inside and outside the ring. As Y/N, with her playful and provocative demeanor, navigates the escalating tension between the two fighters, she struggles with her own growing desire and the secret she's kept hidden-she's still a virgin. Caught in a dangerous love triangle, Y/N must decide whether to stay in control of her life or surrender to the passion between these two powerful men.

Bi! Joo Jaekyung x Female Reader

Original Character x Female Reader

Damon Looks Like Gojo Satoru

⭐️

MATURE MDNI 🩵

Bi! Joo Jaekyung x Female Reader

An Alternative Universe For The Girls ;))))

I’ll post on here but I wanna publish atleast 10 pages on wattpad frist 😅🫶🏾

[sgiandubh]

The lonesome fitness girl - really?

This is a story about a nameless female fitness influencer somewhere in the world. She gives the impression of a lonely „ fighter“ in her business and in her life overall.

That is nonsense - she sells her "destiny" very skilfully. I am convinced she is not a lonely woman behind her influencer profile. But that is exactly the impression she wants to convey and she does so publicly with some success.  This is her unique selling point right now and whoever manages or advises her has recognised this very well. In other words, a narrative is created very carefully and very purposefully.  Sounds somehow familiar? 

There are thousands and thousands of fitness influencers, so it is important for everyone in this business to find the niche that generates followers, clicks and in the end it means an income. Simply performing an exercise is not enough. Every click or like on a post or a story generates a few dollars, euros or pounds in revenue.

And an increase in the number of followers by approx. 80,000-100,000 due to a connection to a famous person will raise the income as well. For the record: people like her are so called macro influencer and are a brand. That is a fact - you can find a lot more information about this in various publications by experts in business administration and marketing.

You have to attract attention, something that our nameless fitness girl has done in different ways over the years. Firstly with her partner at the time, later she created the image of a single fitness mum. And at the moment she is promoting the image of a woman who is finding her way back after an illness with a great deal of commitment and determination. 

But fitness girl was legitimately afraid of loosing her income if she was not able to work. And her body is her work. This led probably her and her team to the conclusion that she needed "visible support" at this point in order to continue operating her business model during the recovery.  And her job is being fitness model. No more and no less.

And right on time, a famous actor with a closeness to fitness programmes or probably rather his team came in. Now she seems to get into contact with his presumably more influential and well-connected fitness circles. And, purely by chance, she is building up an online fitness course. All on her own and while she looks after the rest of her business(es?) - and cares for her family. Hopefully she gets enough sleep? Probably not, which is hardly surprising considering her workload with all her duties and work obligations towards her partners. Fortunately, just like in fairy tales, there is a wonderful magic wand for this - Instagram filter.

The story really is getting better and better...

Add some well-planned (sometimes "almost") encounters at various competition venues between the two main characters.

The fitness girl, her business and her story truly seem impressive? Only if you believe in fairy tales.

Too many coincidences at once, it looks like a well established business deal, too scripted? No - just keep it simple to feed the narrative of the "lonely fitness girl"! Or is she "The girl who never sleeps"? Nobody knows for sure.

But she is most likely not the woman she pretends to be...

Dear Lonesome Fitness Girl Anon,

In an ocean of infantile, mendacious, shite-stirring Anons, your submission is absolutely STELLAR!

Whoever you are, I can tell by the ease of your logical deductions that you mean serious business and you are not easy to fool, either. Just what we happen to love, in this particular corner of this fandom.

I am totally thrilled to share with all of us this rare gem, Anon. Especially today.

You are more than welcome to hit this page anytime. It takes a pro to know a pro. Consider me a friend, Anon: you have instantly become one to me, and I bet not only to me.

Everyone, a round of applause for our unexpected guest!

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?! : 「 Part 2 Teaser 」

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 1

SUMMARY the male lead was suppose to fall in love with the female lead, and yet how did he even gain an interest in you?! clenching your fist as determination blazes your orbs as you're now far beyond determined to make him dislike you for once and for all.

THEME SONG FIREWORK by &TEAM (yes I'm promoting this) if this story was a manhwa, this song is definitely the ost >:))) listen to the song while reading the teaser :3 or else i won't release this lols jk jk but who knows >:) gathering as many lunés as i can lmao.

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

it's safe to say, that you punched a fist right to his face after spewing such shitty nonsense. that alone adding an nth time of gasps from everyone in the ballroom.

right now, unfortunately, you were sprinting to the long ass hallway without ever looking back. okay let's say you did look back and fortunately no one or neither the prince were chasing after you.

seriously, what has gone wrong with the male lead?! how in the actual fuck he had taken an interest in you? it seems as if every action you did to push him away only pulls him closer. might as well reset yourself from this world if you can.

whining immensely as you recalled your female lead's precious grin, "liz! what has come to my story?!"

yet to your utter disappointment and shock even, the news had somehow quickly reached the entire nation, everyone and anyone you could think of has been informed of the incident between you and the prince. confirming it totally as you walked through the market with the female lead.

"the prince has truly take a likening in you, milady." liz pulled up a proud smile which had you cringing. like please don't do that, please don't. you weren't supposed to be smiling like this.

"oh god, kindly refrain from uttering that prince's in front of my face, liz. he's nothing but a—" you immediately stopped yourself from spewing shit about the prince as you don't want to ruin liz's perception on him, which would possibly furthering the already inflicted damage on your original story.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

groaning again you did as you couldn't possibly hid forever too, as the author of this novel; you are fully aware of how you crafted the prince's character, that despite all of the charms and dazzling traits you moulded into him, you've added one specific thing that had him stood out the most and that was he's beyond possessive and obsessed with the female lead as it was rooted from one of his traits; competitive, dedicated and most of the time, he doesn't like to lose and that he had to get what he wanted or else..

chaos it is, and such chaos coming from the prince himself are not to be underestimated.

you are having such an enormous urge to bang your head on your bed right now as how couldn't you? who doesn't want a male lead to live and die for their lover? of course you and your damn adorable readers!

well, fiction aren't to be confused with reality after all.

but damn your life for this is your reality now—here in your own very novel.

screw your novel, screw your life, screw reality, screw the prince! you might just as well fall into your slumber now as you try plan of another way to avoid that very prince you crafted.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

the sun rays peering through the swaying curtains glints against your fluttering eyelashes, causing your orbs to hid behind the shield of your splayed fingers. stretching your arms upwards, a sense of satisfaction surged through your veins—fueling the corners of your lips to pull up in the widest grin.

you've successfully overturn your fate by not attending the prince's second invitation, squinting mischievously—he must have lose interest in you for not visiting your manor, doesn't he? with his character, he couldn't have possibly had gone that long! he sure would've been tremendously patient regarding political affairs but never at the female lead!

in chapter 16 of your novel, "blooming romances" where you've written the development of their romance that had your reader's heart evaporating into nothingness as they weep under the comment section over how a single sentence you wrote had made them feel so damn single and why they haven't found a guy like the prince yet:

— after gaining the heart of lady liz; prince jungwon was beyond ecstatic to have another day out with his lover, however alike the eclipse's separation—royal and political affairs had ripped him away from the comfort of his lover's arms. thus, he had been occupied with so much papers within the palace's quarters.

yet as soon as the grey cloak crawled back over the blue sky, pulling the moon back with it—so does the prince himself, leaving the stacked up papers on his desk and appearing before the lady's quarters after much effort climbing onto the firm tree.

wasting not a breathe, as the apples of his cheeks serving as physical form of his infatuation towards the lady—the tips of his tongue mellowed in instinct for her, along with his hand that were accustomed to his sword's handle to enveloped beneath her fingers—pressing a lover's vow on the top of her hand through his faint red lips.

"milady, i fear i had no longer the strength to contain myself from letting out a single breath without your presence." his lips ghosted against his lover's ear, "it had my patience crumbling into nothing when you, milady had reigned over my heart."

ah! what a joyous occasion! you plopped on the bed with your gathered strength as you giggled like a child. bliss consumed your entire soul with your surging scream alerting the entire manor.

swaying your pillow in a circular motion as you sprint towards your hallway, "juliet! liz! i'm the happiest person ever in the world— oh jesus, someone host a damn buffet and tell everyone in the manor to join!"

"milady!" you saw juliet sprinting towards your way.

"juliet! oh dear, you should—"

"milady!" she panted right after falling on your arms. "the— the—"

"hm?! why are you sweating so much? what happened?"

taking a deep humongous breathe she did before uttering one sentence that had your head blasting into the ghost quiet vacuum of space.

"the prince has arrived!"

"what?!" your jaw dropped on the ground with gigantic mirror crashing behind you.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i seriously have no idea what do you find interesting in me?"

"i have yet to know, milady. that's the very reason i had the courage to ask for such a bold request from you."

"and what makes you assume i would agree to that?" you raised your left eyebrow.

"i have yet to resort to such foul actions, which i'd rather not to milady."

your blood surged cold through your veins, "a-are you threatening me?"

"certainly i do not intend it to sound that way, i prefer to keep this as civil as possible as you—milady, truly does has gained my interest and it would truly be vain if i.. wasn't given the chance to prove my worth to you. all i am asking is to grant me a chance to prove myself for you."

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"don't you have any rules you want to share?"

jungwon emitted a giggle as soon as he processed your words, "oh, i don't think i need one. after all, whatever you may wish, shall i grant."

"then, stop chasing me—"

"except that one." his lips pulled up in a mischievous smirk, the sun places a tender kiss on the strands of his hair—dripping honey hues on his cheeks which reflected against his feline orbs. "then shall we begin the countdown, milady?"

thirty days, it is; for him to pour his entire efforts to gain your heart and soul, while you extremely adamant in your mission to make him lose interest in you and make him fall in love with your precious female lead, liz.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i see, that this is the lady our prince had taken an interest for?" a middle aged man along with a young lady appeared before you, clearly trying to get your attention.

"she truly live up to the rumor, father." the lady snickered behind her lacy handfan, her eyes held traces of mockery in it.

"i dare say that his royal highness had quite a special taste.."

you tilted your head at them, sighing as you very well know where is this going. of course why wouldn't you? this was the dialogue you created during a crying session after your favourite manhwa ends on a horrible note. opting to torture your characters in your dusty side novel by using this dialogue on them, and later had a beaming idea to recycle it for the female lead's fateful encounter with the nobles.

"if you'd like to keep your tongue, then i advise you to keep it shut. sir?" goosebumps raised over the back of your neck when the prince appeared, his feline eyes held irritation in it as he stood beside you. "you had no right to speak that way to my future wife."

"i- apologize, your highness!"

"i'm quite sure the one of the rules i stated that you would refrain from calling me.. your wife? didn't we?" you sighed.

"forgive me, milady." jungwon shrugged. "such atrocious tongue had to be cut off before it grows, and aside from that, what kind of husband would i be if i couldn't do the bare minimum of protecting my wife?"

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"why.. is lady liz here with us too, milady?" dumbfounded the prince was at the presence of the lady. you suppressed the need to smirk as the prince were facing the female lead, and you in the middle.

ah, what a sight! you couldn't help but fangirl over, cause how couldn't you?! it's like a matchmaking session and you, obviously the cupid!

"i assume there's nothing to be curious at, as this was the pact, isn't your highness? i could bring whoever i please."

"yes, but.. the pact.." jungwon pauses, then pulls a tiny smile all reserved for you. "never mind it, i had been granted the honour to be invited to the lady's manor, how ungrateful would i be if i couldn't satisfy your wishes, milady." he continues as he turns his fluttering eyes at liz. "lady liz, it's my pleasure to meet you."

"so am i, your highness."

yes! yes! freaking finally, did he turned his damn head over the female lead! you got this, you were beyond skeptical at agreeing with the pact at first but now that you've seen it before your eyes, you could make the prince fall for the female lead whenever it's your turn to invite the prince!

this is truly a blessing in disguise!

make him fall in love her, bit by bit, till his interest in you slowly divert into the female lead before his eyes. simple it is! just make sure she's always in his line of vision, so that his heart would truly realise who it was beating for this entire time.

oh dear prince, look ahead and see the perfect lady that was meant for you! for if you still refuse to do so, i'll gladly force your damn kitten eyes to look towards her, mission start!

*⁠.⁠✧♡

jungwon emitted a slight giggle, a tender smile forming in his lips. "that's fascinating of you, lady liz. is there anything you had an interest for other than that?"

"hm, i adore looking after birds, they're my precious friends that tend to help me more than i could count, your majesty. and at times, i practise the art of embroidery.."

jungwon's eyes beamed at that particular word and it didn't go unnoticed by your eyes forming countless of neon heart shapes as you watched them converse with each other, heart quenching in top fangirling mode as they were truly a match made for each other! aaah, my favourite couple!

an enchanting frame of them, what a lovely sight indeed! you could watch them all day all night, for their romance to bloom into waterfall of florals.

"how about you, lady (name)? is there anything you in particular liked about?" the prince asked you.

"uh-?" your fangirling mode switches off when both of their attention were now on you. shit, just ignore me and talk to each other! pretend i do not exist!

"i'm curious about you, milady." jungwon tilted his head at you, curiosity glazed across his feline orbs as he leaned back on the chair in a leisure manner, with his usual smirk pestering you to death.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

you heard a few knocks on your door, the maid's head slipping in through the edge. "milady?"

"hm?" you didn't bother to pay a glance as you wiped off the excess soaking of your hair, still in your spiral of dilemma over what happened an hour ago. your stupid mistake of your damn foot conspiring to trip into the damn lake in a rare opportunity!

"his majesty were asking for your presence, milady."

"and what is his royal highness trying to conspire right here, huh? i am not his personal assistant to dress him up." you snorted, "what is this, barbie and ken? barbie girl in a barbie world?"

it's fantastic? this is nothing close to fantastic at all! you were so damn close to have them crashing their lips against each other!

"goddamnit why is this song kept repeating in my mind!" you whined to into your oblivion of despair.

the maid who had been patiently waiting for you to finish your emo session, spoke once again. "but milady, his majesty had been having troubles since an hour ago. he had only requested for you and no one else."

"oh god, fine!" you smashed your soaked towel on the table, huffing as you went on your way to the guest room. stomping your feet ever so loudly as you pause before the double door, "your highness, may i ask what in the world are going on for you to request for my presence?"

"come in, please."

you didn't think much as you pushed the door open, yet your lungs bursted into flames when his toned chest and down your eyes goes to his bunny pack of buns greeting your lazy orbs which had by far rattling into chaos as of now.

he's freaking half naked?! your mind chanted it like an unlimited quota. shirtless he was with that pestering smirk on his face as if he did this on purpose.

"milady?" jungwon smirked, "why don't you welcome yourself in? after all, this is your manor."

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"i'd certainly would not dare, milady. but if you insist." he shots a mischievous wink at your way.

seriously, you couldn't be bothered by this, aren't you? god knows how many filth you've written in the past few years of your life, you could even describe all of it without releasing a few screams or there, which shows how much of a pro you are.

you were beyond nervous when he pushes the door opened to his room, revealing the entire outlook of the furnitures, painting, couches, table, and lastly.. the king-sized bed.

bitch, get a hold on yourself.

*⁠.⁠✧♡

"milady," he pushed you on top of the bed, hovering over you as he caged you within his arms on both sides of your head.

"that's certainly brave of you, don't you think? milady?" he keeps emphasising the last word as if he adores to call you that very much, adding such seductive tone had your heart skipping a beat.

"milady." he whispered one more time.

he pressed a passionate kiss on your forehead, "milady." chanting the word a dozen more times as he continued on making you feel so loved.

his affectionate gestures were driving your soul insane and your knees weak as you indulged yourself in his love—the love he bestows only for you.

"milady."

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[torialefay]

maybe this is too niche but the most random thoughts keep popping into my head?? idk but i must share them.

these are the types of doctors i think stray kids would be, based on different doctors' stereotypes (from the pov of a medical student):

chan: sports medicine 🏀⚽️

• description: physicians with training in areas related to treating and preventing injuries and health issues associated with sports, exercise, or strenuous physical activity

• stereotype: athlete-turned-doctor. the less extreme brother of the orthopedic specialists. get to meet a wide range of people and are well-liked. very passionate about sports and physical health. dress really nice and know their ass looks great in their tight pants. probably has memorized all the stats of their favorite teams. ACTUALLY very intelligent and not just a meat head.

minho: forensic pathologist 🩸

• description: subspecialist in pathology whose area of special competence is the examination of persons who die suddenly, unexpectedly or violently. The forensic pathologist is an expert in determining cause and manner of death.

• stereotype: honestly just leave them tf alone. they just wanna do their thing... without you there, just come find them when they've figured it out. nice but also scarred forever. a little fucked up in the head but much needed. no one understands how they're able to do their job tbh. able to conjure up the most morbid situations. kinda freaky but in a respected way. you should be concerned if they stare at you for too long.

changbin: orthopedist (aka orthopedic surgeon aka "ortho bro") 🦴

• description: medical specialist who focuses on injuries and diseases affecting your musculoskeletal system (bones, muscles, joints and soft tissues). although this type of doctor is a surgeon, they often help people get relief with nonsurgical therapies.

• stereotype: the "bro"est of the bros. always talking about their new workout routine or equipment with the other ortho bros. will out-eat you any day of the week. probably has a hot spouse. will be blasting their workout playlist for hours on end in the operating room. honestly just want to do surgeries so they can play with the tools. could fight off an entire army with the amount of protein powder they consume on the daily.

hyunjin: dermatologist 💉

• description: medical doctor who specializes in conditions that affect the skin, hair, and nails.

• stereotype: distinguished and better than you. better than everyone else. can be nice, but can also be cold depending in the person. only uses the best hair products. the specialty is very competitive, but you're 99% sure they got in with pretty privilege. owns 7 cars, but their sunday car is their favorite. sells $90 moisturizer at the check-in counter. most definitely is also certified in botox and filler and will give you a discount on your injections if you compliment them enough.

han: psychiatrist 💆🏻

• description: medical doctor who can prescribe, direct, or administer psychotherapeutic treatments or medications to treat mental, emotional, or behavioral disorders.

• stereotype: actually does give a fuck about you. you can tell them the most fucked up shit and they honestly will not be surprised in the slightest. quirky to a fault. knows how to make you feel special. very #relatable. sacrifices their own mental health for the sake of yours. cannot do math. just wants world peace. mentally diagnoses everyone they meet with a personality disorder.

felix: gynecologist 👛

• description: physician who specializes in diagnosing and treating diseases of the female reproductive system.

• stereotype: will be kind to you and work for the promotion of women's health. never makes you feel uncomfortable and tries to make you feel more secure in an environment that can seem scary. has very expensive bags. their children are very successful, but in a humble way. emotionally intelligent. wishes they had more time to bake. an advocate. seem sweet, but if you cross them, they can drag you through the absolute mud. may or may not have a rhinestone cup collection.

seungmin: general surgeon 🔪

• description: doctor and surgeon who’s trained to diagnose and manage a broad array of medical conditions before, during, and after surgery (preoperative, operative and postoperative care), often as leaders of a team.

• stereotype: literally just trying to get you cut open, close you up, and leave. has 27 different playlists to listen to in the operating room. may or may not flirt with the other staff. got this job bc they cannot handle people telling them what to do. will humble you so quickly. other besties are also surgeons. has very niche interests. weird sense of humor that not everyone gets but they still have to laugh because they are scared of him.

innie: neurologist 🧠

• description: medical doctor who diagnoses, treats and manages disorders of the brain and nervous system.

• stereotype: a little peculiar, but very smart. takes a long time to get an appointment with them. probably thinks you are a little dumb, but tries to be nice anyways. hard to make friends. has an amplitude of medications that they are legally not supposed to have. their children are most definitely overachievers. would not trust you to bring an important dish to the potluck. has the cutest shoes. dabbles in unexpected kinks.

(descriptions gotten from various websites hehe)