#shiny idol star message answered

[darlingpetao3]

Sugar (EoWells x Reader)

Rating: T

Summary: You and Doctor Harrison Wells have an arrangement - you provide lovely company and conversation while he showers you with gifts and pays for you to advance your scientific knowledge. Does he want more than this? And more importantly, does he have an ulterior motive..?

Tag LIst: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @blogforhoes​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @crissymadlock​

“Good evening, Miss (Y/L/N),” the doorman of the luxurious Central City Plaza Hotel greets you. He opens the door wide. “Welcome back.”

You give the man a polite nod and a shy smile. Does he know why you’re here? One of the little voices in your head likes to pester you, insisting that everyone is aware of the special arrangement you have with a certain high-profile scientist.

But there’s no way they would know.

Doctor Harrison Wells would be sure to keep this arrangement discreet.

A text message you had received from the man himself earlier in the day tells you the floor and room number. The closer you get, the faster your heart slams against your chest. It’s like the organ is leading you to the man behind the door you now stand in front of.

Your knuckles rap on the door once, twice, three times.

You hold your breath the entire time between knocking and him answering the door, though luckily you don’t have to wait that long at all.

Science’s Greatest Mind, Harrison Wells, opens the door to reveal himself dressed as the always impeccably gorgeous dresser he is - a crisp white button-down tucked into his black slacks and shiny black shoes you could practically see your blushing face in. His shirt sleeves are rolled up his forearms, and on one you spot a watch worth more than your tuition.

Speaking of tuition…

“Miss (Y/L/N), always a pleasure.” Apparently you’ve skipped dinner with him because his silky voice is already dessert to your ears. “Please, come in. May I take your coat?”

“Yes, thank you.”

One would think after meeting up Doctor Wells every few weeks would diminish the pedestal effect you have created for the man. One would think you wouldn’t get stars in your eyes when he compliments you or builds on one of your scientific theories. And one would think that meeting your idol would change your opinion of him. But nope - the fire inside you seems to burn even hotter for Harrison Wells with every meeting and every second of attention he gives you.

The thing is, Harrison had received word from sources unknown about you - an exceptional mind that many of your peers believed rivalled his own. The tragedy was that you could not seek further education in your field of interest due to an extraordinary lack of financial means. There you were, walking around with that big beautiful brain, only to have it figuratively short circuit when your hero, the man of your dreams, tracked you down.

What it came down to was Harrison feeling unable to let your untapped potential go to waste and invested in you. He came to you with the idea and profound generosity of paying for you to further your education in particle physics, among other fields.

Naturally, you were surprised beyond all belief.

“There’s a little something for you on the desk just over there, if you’d like to open it,” Harrison informs you as he’s already pouring you both some drinks.

Oh yeah - he also showers you with extravagant gifts.

On the desktop lies a long white rectangular box. Your mouth opens a smidge when you look to him, giving the scientist an expression of what have you done?

“Harrison, you shouldn’t have,” you tell him, as you do every rendezvous when he begins to spoil you.

“If I had a nickel,” he smiles fondly at you, with a hint of something else. “Please, open it.” 

Sometimes you wonder if he feels the same way about you. Is he interested in dating you? He’s never made a move or outright asked you anything pertaining to the topic of dating. All he’s ever done is compliment you, give you presents, and most importantly, have deep and meaningful conversations about work and life. Although now that you think about it, you don’t discuss much about his life…

It must come with the territory of being a famous, innovative scientist.

Fine, Harrison Wells can keep his secrets.

You open the lid of the box to find a sleek and classy little black dress.

“It’s beautiful…” you breathe out.

“You’ll wear it for our dinner?”

“Have I ever turned down a piece of gorgeous clothing you’ve bought me?”

Harrison grins. “You have not, no. And I’m glad for it.”

“You have exceptional taste,” you tell him.

“I have exceptional inspiration.”

Aaaand cue your blushing cheeks. You scurry off to the insanely immaculate bathroom to change and freshen up. You’re always extra careful with the new clothes he buys you, and treat them like they’re delicate relics you have the utmost privilege to wear. And, of course, right before you leave the bathroom, you check your breath. Just in case.

Okay, all good.

You love how this dress fits you. It’s like it was created just for you. But what you love even more is the intoxicating transfixed gaze of Doctor Wells as you walk back into the room. As you inspect your dress, he moves to stand in front of you. His hands hold on to your forearms. With a little shrug, you can’t help but ask him, “What do you think?”

“I think I am blessed to be in your presence.”

“Oh, what a line!” you tease, and Harrison merely laughs. He always makes you feel like a queen.

“Turn around,” he tells you. For a number of reasons, your heartbeat immediately begins to gallop.

“W-why?”

Harrison just gives you a look, and soon your body is turning your back to him in obedience. After a moment, you feel and see his large hands in front of you at your collarbone area. Then there’s a cool sensation on your skin - metal. A necklace? He secures the clasp behind you, and you feel a quick spark of what must be static electricity when his fingers graze your skin, making you jump. You’re sure to look down to inspect the jewellery piece - a little gold lightning bolt.

“Harrison, you didn’t-”

“-Shall we have dinner?”

You can only nod in reply because you cannot form words. How is he so giving? It makes you wonder whether or not you’re the only one with whom he spoils and spends time.

You wonder if maybe he does other things with other women.

***

Dinner is magnificent as usual. Harrison always orders the most delectable and pricey things on the hotel menu. He also knows the chef personally, so sometimes he calls down to make special requests. This was one of those times. The pair of you talk shop over dinner, your life goals and plans, and so forth.

“I’d love for you to work for me someday on one of my future projects,” Harrison says eventually, effectively blowing your mind.

“Are you serious? You’re actually saying this to me?”

“Yes. I’d have thought you might have had an inkling I would ask you one of these days. I don’t think I’ve been that subtle.”

“Well, consider me oblivious!”

He chuckles. “Good to know.”

As you soon move into the hotel suite's living area, your mind is still reeling from his loose job offer, but then that other pesky thought appears in its place. Maybe it’s the wine, but the thought manifests into words off your tongue.

“How... many others are you doing this with?” you ask.

“Doing what, precisely?”

“You know! Spending special time with me. Buying me lavishly expensive gifts. You’re already paying for my tuition, something you never had to do in the first place. Even though I’m incredibly grateful for that, don’t get me wrong,” you add quickly.

“These gifts,” he says while lifting your chin with his finger to get you to look at him, “are because I think you deserve the world and this is the closest thing I can do to manifest that. As for your tuition, I think you know I believe you to be one of the most promising minds of this time. It would be a crime to let your insight and talent go unused due to a lack of funds.” His compliments play your harp-like heart like a seasoned professional. “What’s more, I... genuinely enjoy our times together.”

Never before has Harrison ever suggested taking whatever this thing is between you to the proverbial next level. You have always had the sense that he is interested in you, but would never be the first to make that sort of move on you. But tonight… right now… you feel so much for him and everything he’s been doing for you, so selflessly, that you want to try to take that next step. If he’s willing, of course.

Your hand ventures experimentally to rest on his leg. Harrison subtly perks up at your touch as if he’s just spotted the window of opportunity you’re sneaking through.

“I enjoy our times together, too,” you agree. “I like you, Harrison. A lot.”

“And I like you.”

You let your hand move slightly higher up his thigh, but his own stops you.

“Please don’t think you owe me anything,” he says, making sure you understand. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’d-”

“-No, no. I know,” you tell him, leaning in closer. “I just really want to. I want you.”

The Doctor Harrison Wells sits there across from you with his mouth parted the slightest bit - the mouth you become obsessed with when you meet him with yours. You’ve wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally coming true. The heat you begin to feel between you both seems to lure you into his lap and press your hands to his chest. This kiss deepens in an exploratory desperation. Harrison’s hunger lets itself be known by the sound deep in his throat.

You pull back to see how he smiles that gleaming smile as if he’s won the lottery, staring you straight in the eye. “Before we... would you open one more gift from me?”

“Oh,” you say with a bit of a rasp to your voice. “Sure. Yes.”

The scientist reaches around the side of the couch to hand you another box. It’s not nearly as big as the dress box. You pull off the top and move the red tissue paper around to uncover the sexiest goddamn lingerie you’ve ever seen.

You hold it up to yourself. Harrison’s eyes have gone as black as the slinky satin garment itself.

“Would you wear that for me?” he asks.

“I’d do anything for you,” tumbles out of your mouth in pure lust and infatuation.

His brilliant smile almost blinds you.

“Good to know.”

~

Anonymous Request: I recently discovered that I'm kinda into the sugar daddy kink in fics which is new to me...if that appeals to you at all I was hoping maybe you'd write something where Eowells is a sugar daddy to the reader cause that would be hot. I was hoping they could hook up in a luxurious hotel room that he rented and the reader had to wear whatever he bought for them.

[dreamcatcherjiah]

I had started to wonder if you were ok just know that you’re doing amazing! Sending positive vibes your way 🥺 if it’s not too much stress can I get a little dancer reader x rapper Yoongi Drabble please? 😊💜

Hello love!! Yes, in general I am doing just fine, just supper busy studying for my finals! It is not any stress at all, you just gave me what I needed!🥺🥺🥺 I hope you like it, and feel free to request anything else if you want!!💜

Pairing: Dancer reader x rapper Yoongi

Words: 1.3k

The first day dancing for this new company, this should be exciting. I mean, it would be if you weren’t running incredibly late. It wasn’t your intention, it just seemed like traffic was completely against you. The subway, crowded as it always was, should have been your first choice of transportation, the bus was proving to be a failure.

After the long auditioning process, preparing endless routines in the least amount of time possible, putting your life on hold to get this one job, it was all going to be futile if this giant metal box refused to move a minute longer. You couldn’t be late on your first day, you just couldn’t.

On the next stop, you decided to go the rest of the way walking, and got off the bus. Running was not much of a hobby for you, but just today it would have to do. You flew by department stores and restaurants, convenience stores and coffee shops. What wouldn’t you give for a strong cup of coffee right about now? But no, you needed to power through and get to that shiny building you could already see on the distance. Looking down at your watch, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath, relieved; if you continued running just the way you were, you might just make it with a couple of minutes to spare, but not enough time to get a coffee, sadly.

Without even time to look back up again, you collide with a hard body and fall back, barely registering the tenderness on your lower back. Looking at the other person, t-shirt and jacket completely covered in coffee, you curse your luck. Just what you needed today, damn you, Murphy!

“I’m so sorry!” you say, hurriedly while you scramble to your feet, “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?”

“It was iced Americano,” answered the man, with a deep raspy voice that had you doing a double-take. Thank your lucky stars it was iced Americano, at least you hadn’t scalded him, but his voice though… Wait now is definitely not the time to be mesmerised by his voice. No matter how deep it was. Focus!

“Still, I am fairly sure you wanted to drink it, and now you are wearing it…” fishing through your bag, you got a notepad and a pen, writing quickly while your eyes moved over his ruined clothes, and a light jolt went through you when you recognised the brand. Your clumsiness was surely going to cost you.

“I am running incredibly late, but here’s my number. Text me when you replace the t-shirt and the jacket and I’ll pay for it,” it would be ramyeon for lunch for quite some time for you, apparently.

Receiving the slip of paper with a nod, the both of you looked at each other.

“I thought you said you were late?” he asked, eyeing you through his glasses and mask. His tone was weirded enough to drive the message through; You’ve done enough spilling my coffee, get going, weird woman.

Seeing how fast the time had gone by, you threw a last look in his direction and started running again.

Thanks to some divine intervention, you managed to arrive just in time to change your shoes and join the dance team in the training room. Warming up and focusing on your body’s movement managed to push the thoughts of the coffee stranger from your mind. The adrenaline pumping through your veins giving you the right mindset to focus completely on the precision and accuracy with which you copied the choreographer moves and reproduced them. This was the happiness you only felt when your body was moving to the rhythm of the music.

Once practice was over, everyone started leaving, going out of the room in small groups, and soon enough you were alone. Moving to the computer, you restarted the song and kept practising the moves. There was a particular move you liked when you managed to get the tempo right, satisfaction filling your chest fast and sure, and you wanted to get it down perfectly before you left for the day.

So focused you were that you didn’t see the door opening, and the black-clad figure stay on the threshold, arms crossed while they watch you practice.

“So you arrived in time?” asked a voice to your left, and you lost your footing quite ungracefully, landing on your backside. The soreness was back and you looked up for the second time that day. A strange déjà vu. And then understanding washed over you, and you felt utterly out of your depth.

“I would say that you have poor research skills, but I don’t want to make you feel bad… after all, it’s not your fault that you’re clumsy on top of that. I would know, I live with Namjoon.”

If you could move, you would have facepalmed. Without his mask and the reading glasses, it was obvious you should have recognised him. You had spilt coffee on one of the biggest world-class rappers of the moment and had offered right after to pay for his clothes. You didn’t actually know how to feel, but the only thought going through your head now was how to get up from the floor without damaging your dignity any further…

“I’m so sorry!” you said, picking yourself up for the second time that day, “I was running late, and I wasn’t paying much attention, I’m sorry… But wait, poor research skills?”

He just laughed and went to the table where the laptop was still playing the song you were dancing to. Now that you thought about it, the vocals were incredibly familiar. Closing the computer, he bent down and picked a beanie and a phone up from one of the chairs and turned around to look at you.

“Poor research skills because you didn’t even look up who else worked at the company you are working for now,” he answered, laughing softly at your face. No doubt you must look as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Of course I knew who worked here, I just wasn’t expecting to find one of them on a coffee shop ten minutes from the office and I surely wasn’t expecting to drench him in coffee…” you mumbled, looking everywhere except at the idol standing in front of you.

“I would say we drenched each other,” he chuckled, “your sneakers are beyond ruined.”

Looking down, you noticed just then that what he was saying was true. Your previously white shoes were now tinted brown, irregularly and messily. Go figure, only you would not notice your feet were wet and cold. And your sneakers, as he had so very well pointed, beyond ruined.

“They could pass for expensive trendy sneakers,” you said, turning your left foot from side to side, examining the disastrous brown pattern, “I mean, ripped jeans are a thing now, right?”

He laughed harder this time, and you couldn’t help but giggle at your own joke. He was completely different from what you had always thought he was like.

“I don’t think the rule that says ripped jeans are fashionable applies to sneakers that reek of americano…” his eyes were now turning into little crescents, so much he was laughing. At least the awkwardness of the situation was washing off a little.

“Yeah, I know. These little ones will have to go, I guess. You’ve been loyal friends, my dears,” now you were laughing too. How could your day have taken such a turn so suddenly, you wouldn’t know. But it wasn’t a bad turn.

“Why are you such a drama queen?” he asked you, with mock accusation. He raised an eyebrow at you and started writing something in his phone. When he was finished, he looked back at you with a barely concealed smirk.

Your phone went off in your bag. Looking at him suspiciously, you walked over and unlocked your phone to find a text message from an unknown number.

           “I’m incredibly busy producing this track, but text me when you replace your ruined sneakers for new, trendy ones, and I’ll pay for them ;) -Yoongi.”

[rookieskrp]

• •  AHN, HEEYEON  ▸  970501  ▸  COLLEGE STUDENT  • • A FUTURE STAR IN THE MAKING.

tw: language “you would be surprised what brings you stupid amounts of money. i have this friend – raging idiot, horrible sense of style – her family literally takes shit from animals and puts it in the ground. then three months later, veggies grow out of that and they sell it to you people. now, I don’t deny it’s a great business model; but you shouldn’t make it your life philosophy.” – ahn heeyeon; author

▸ ▸ ▸ BEGINNER STATISTICS.

SINGING〈 002 〉 DANCING 〈 004 〉 RAPPING   〈 001 〉 CHARISMA〈 005 〉 CREATIVITY 〈 003 〉

I HAVE BEEN  ▸ ▸ ▸  here. I AM  ▸ ▸ ▸  there. I WILL BE  ▸ ▸ ▸  everywhere.

▸ ▸ ▸ WHO AM I.

• • • heeyeon has never been shy – and especially not in front of a camera. the girl greeted the familiar buzz of the device by entertaining her alpha stance, as her brother called it – pursing her lips tightly, corners of the mouth raised up just enough that it could be fathomed as a faint smile. her eyes were not drilling into the clear lens anymore; instead, they flickered towards the vanity mirror resting behind it, examining the way every curve and shadow of hers were painted atop of the reflective surface, all the while dragging the tips of her long fingers through the ends of her hair. “hello. my name is ahn hee yeon” the brunette’s voice trailed off, unsure of how to continue – most certainly, it was a rare occurrence for someone to ask her to introduce herself; people who had business knowing her simply knew her. “i am twenty-two years old, currently in my second year of university” now her fingers were on her thigh, tapping against the hard fabric of heeyeon’s jeans in an attempt to soothe her impatience. “i won’t say i am the best performer you’ve ever seen –” the brunette was very aware that, had been anyone else in the room with her, they would roll their eyes, “ – because, quite frankly, that would be embarassing”. a strand of her hair was now twirling against her finger, her eyes moving lazily to capture the motion. “but i am more talented than probably half of the people you see on television; and certainly more ambitious than the other half.”

▸ ▸ ▸ WHY AM I HERE.

• • • whenever heeyeon’s head is submerged into the contemplation of a certain subject, she has the habit of chewing on her bottom lip – and so, in order for her to give an answer, a few seconds were spent pondering where to start. “when i began really wanting to become an idol, i think i-“ her lips followed with a pause, eyes darting to the side, looking at no one in particular ”wanted to do it for selfish reasons. to express myself creatively, even if there wasn’t anyone in particular interested in listening. but then it turned out that i am great at, you know-” now her arms were hovering above her lap, moving her hands in a gesture to emphasize what she was trying to say “being a celebrity. dancing, singing, being extremely charming.” heeyeon was now conjuring a grin; completed by a set of straight, shiny teeth on display. “now i know it’s what i am meant to do, and i’ll be the best at it.”

FOLLOW ME • MESSAGE ME • READ ALL ABOUT ME

▸ ▸ ▸ WELCOME TO ROOKIES, AHN HEEYEON !

• • • ROOKIES ! is a closed, literate KRP that follows the triumphs and heartaches of original characters living in Seoul and trying to find their way in the competitive world of K-Pop. From the struggles of training to the moment they finally debut and beyond, ROOKIES ! takes you on the journey from starry-eyed dreamer to idol star. THINK YOU’VE GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE IT TO THE TOP?  • • •

[beedalee]

Thank you guys for the wonderful messages/comments/tags/reblogs on these guys it really makes my day!! I’ve been working on this kind of art-style for three years now (wow what) and I’m really proud of how they all turned out so the enthusiasm is SO uplifting!! 

So to answer the last question me n’ nafisah shot the breeze about these goons all evening a night or two ago! For reference, we’ve got my shining stars over here and naf’s moons of saturn over here! I talk about them a lot intermingling so assume it’s after they’ve joined forces, teehee.

Maia and Rhea are dating and the team identity reveal is super anti-climatic, ie “...oh! oops! haha!!” while everyone else loses their shit. they are the Big Sister Squad but no one wants to be around them when they’re flirting because it’s way too pretty. 

Maia is good friends with Electra, who goes back to childhood; and Iapetus, who is an unlikely jock bro. They got that fiery solidarity goin on!

Electra is friendly with everyone including people that don’t want to be bothered (Taygete). Elle ends up asking out Hyperion after being friends for a while, as they are both really laid back and Elle is pretty quiet and whimsical and totally into his book recommendations. He says yes!!!

Phoebe is Hyperion’s younger middle sibling, and Celaeno is the youngest. Phoebe has to endure not one, but two super obvious crushes their siblings have on other people. Sooo annoying! Meanwhile, Phoebe has been Taygete’s right hand beta gossip prince since high-school and they’re basically inseparable. Taygete accepts no substitutes, and her and Phoebe are the heavy hitting terror duo.

Taygete is her own alpha and makes it her business to question Maia’s authority just to make sure she’s worth listening to. (Maia is perpetually exasperated.) Tyah may have the tiniest bit of a complex about Maia because Maia has the capacity to be a good alpha but doesn’t apply herself authoritatively. Though Tyah’s primarily unapproachable, she’ll keep an eye on everyone despite herself- especially the younger members. She’s amiable with Rhea and Hyperion though.

Celaeno and Alcyone are the girlscout/boyscout duo that usually always do things in a set. Even though it’s obvious to basically everyone, Celaeno has a late reaction realizing she has the biggest crush on Cy. She’s a complete high-strung perfectionist about it. Cy is a mystery, as usual, and a starkly calm contrast to the frantic ribombee... I’m pretty sure Cy likes her back though. <:3c

Cy also has taken to idolizing Tethys, who is cool and shiny and spiky and doesn’t take beef from anyone. (Not even Taygete much to her endless irritation) It’s hard to say if exposure to this rebel will rub off on Cy or not though. Tethys has a girlfriend that isn’t on the team, who I still need to draw. (Her name is Merope and she’s my midday lycanroc. :D)

Janus is the Moon team’s bright-eyed little brother, who also has a boyfriend off team (A snorlax named Prometheus) He actually tags along a lot with Celeano, Cy, (who are in the same age range/grade) and Iapetus (who is a kid at heart anyways). Cy and Janus are super good friends!!

Last but not least, Asterope is the grumpy bear that seems to have made a friend in everyone anyway. Once a highschool bully now an early starting marine biology major, she’s trying to work on her rough personality with mixed results. Despite being older than them, she sometimes gets clumped in with the younger members and dragged around for extra defense while going on reckless adventures Cel has conspired. Aster has weird crushes on Taygete and Tethys because they could probably beat her up, but is mega awkward about doing anything about it. She finds an unlikely friend in Iapetus, who is REALLY into the macabre and horror genre too, and actually is fairly relaxed around her despite Ia being such a hyper dudebro.

That was a lot! Wowie zowie!! It’s hard not to wanna doodle some of these interactions. Maybe if I have time/energy!! And Nafisah might reblog this to add even MORE trivia about their team’s inner dynamics :3c

[businessliveme]

Ford v Ferrari depicts a generation of car guys that’s best left behind

(Bloomberg) –Ford v Ferrari, which opened Friday, Nov. 15 starring Christian Bale and Matt Damon, follows British racing driver Ken Miles (Bale), and hot-rodder Carroll Shelby (Damon) as they build a special race car to help the Ford Motor Company beat Ferrari at the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 1966 and 1967. The goal was to break Enzo Ferrari’s stronghold on international racing that had his Scuderia Ferrari winning everything throughout the 1960s.

They strike an odd-couple pair: Miles is a wiry, eccentric Brit; Shelby is a square-jawed, cowboy-hat-wearing Texan. Neither much like the corporate pressure exerted by Ford chief Lee Iacocca and his marketing goons, who themselves were humiliated by Ferrari’s Old World gravitas after a bungled buyout attempt. And there you have the necessary tension for a movie.

It’s a beautifully shot film that will be enjoyable for modern car buyers and enthusiasts alike—engines rev, tires squeal, stopwatches click. But what I saw is a devastating picture of the lack of diversity that permeated the industry in the 1960s.

Read: Christian Bale & Matt Damon racing drama finishes first at box

If automakers want any hope of relevance in the next decades, as they face the most radical changes and challenges they’ve experienced in 150-odd years of automotive history, they would be wise to contemplate it closely. Because Ford v Ferrari shows a generation best left dead and gone.

It’s a Man’s World

Picture this: During all 152 minutes of the film—which, for those who love vintage racing cars, will feel as good as an ice cream sundae on a summer afternoon, and you can read all about that here—men dominate the screen for 98% of the time, by my unofficial count. They are in the executive suites at Ford and Ferrari, in the workshops and garages in Venice, on the track out at Willow Springs Raceway. (And when I say men, I mean white, straight men.)

No fraction of the storyline is devoted to parsing the thoughts and feelings of any female who appears, even peripherally, on screen. Instead, Caitriona Balfe, who plays Miles’s wife, Mollie, is presented as the doting mother: She smiles mildly and nods her head indulgently as her husband struggles to gain traction in the race world. She clucks and scolds like a schoolmarm when Miles and Shelby come to blows on her front lawn—then brings them each a soda pop.

Other women waft through the film like smoke: Secretaries in wood-paneled offices handing manila folders to men in navy suits; corporate wives smiling silently, always positioned one step behind their husbands’ shoulder; young racing fans that serve as pretty décor on racing podiums. To the victor go the spoils.

The critique I heard most often about Once Upon a Time in Hollywood could easily apply here: This is a film celebrating those nostalgic golden days when white men ruled. It’s pretty to watch if you can suspend thinking for two hours about what that world must have been like for any ambitious or creative folks who didn’t fit that demographic.

Behind the Shiny Exterior

The central message of Ford v Ferrari—that the answer to the question,Who are you? is what really matters in life—is delivered in the beginning, middle, and end of the film by Shelby.

The biggest problem with that is Carroll Shelby. The man who was responsible for turning the Ford Mustang into the epitome of American muscle occupies a godlike status in car culture and embodied everything the red-blooded American male of the era was supposed to hold supreme.

Some of it is admirable: A former chicken farmer from Texas who pulled himself up by his own proverbial bootstraps, Shelby wore overalls when he raced and built his own cars with Ford-tough V8 engines. He beat the Europeans at their own game at Le Mans. In his later years, he established a charity that helped provide organ transplants for children.

Most of it was not: Shelby was a notorious womanizer who blew through six marriages and was heading toward divorce from his seventh when he died. He spoke to everyone with language so blue it was legendary; ask any car journalist or professional driver who knew him, and they’ve got plenty of descriptive words to describe the way he treated anyone within earshot. Many of those words are unprintable here.

For fun, he shot lions, elephants, and rhinoceroses on animal hunts in Africa. He filed so many lawsuits—against Ford, against local car builders, against online forums, and, ironically, against the company that later would supply all of the Cobras for the film—that he become more known and reported on for that in his later years than for any feats of automotive genius.

In fact, after his blast of success with the AC Cobras in the 1960s and his hot-rod take on the Ford Mustang, Shelby didn’t have a single real hit. Instead, there were claims he falsely represented many of the cars he sold. He left Ford for Chrysler, where he helped develop some special-edition Dodges. Ford fans brought up to adore him as a brand hero shouldn’t have been so surprised he left; this was not an individual known for loyalty to anyone or anything other than himself.

It gets worse: One of his former personal assistants, Angelica Smith, sued Shelby for sexual harassment in 2011. The suit included information about an alleged rape that happened at Shelby’s home by one of his employees, and that she was fired, partly in retaliation, after she reported it. (Shelby called the allegations “wild and fantastical” at the time; he died less than a year later.) But that particular anecdote has been washed almost entirely clean by the same boys-club car culture that idolizes Steve McQueen, a decent actor who died conveniently early and had a habit of hitting his wives.

Read: The Electric Cars Are Here. Now How About Selling Them

“Who are you?” is rich, coming from Shelby. We know what kind of man he was: The type we all are better off for no longer holding the keys to any automotive kingdom.

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss

It’s no surprise to survey this patriarchal wasteland—but it’s no less depressing to see it, nonetheless. The epic portrayed remains uncomfortably close to how the car world is today. We still have to look hard to find women of consequence.

There’s Laura Schwab, the president of Aston Martin of America. Katya Bassi, Lamborghini’s chief marketing officer. Susanne Klatten, who, with her brother, owns nearly half of BMW AG.

But only one major automaker in the world has a woman in control of it all: Mary Barra has led General Motors as Chief Executive Officer since taking the helm in 2014. Last year she named Dhivya Suryadevara as GM’s chief financial officer; Suryadevara is the first woman to hold that job at GM and is now in line as a possible Barra successor.

Six of GM’s 11 global board members are women, an admirable percentage. But the numbers are worse elsewhere. At Toyota, just 13% of board members are women; Hyundai and Kia have no women in any position as high as vice president. The auto industry lags behind the rest of the world: women in corporate America at large occupy 21% of C-suite offices, 30% of VP-level roles and 38% of managerial roles, while the auto industry places women in 13% of C-suites, 18% of VP-level spots, and 20% of managerial positions, according to Catalyst, a nonprofit that advocates for women in industry.

This isn’t good enough. Today car companies face difficult questions about brand identity and mobility—concepts they’ve never had to contemplate before now. They are evaluating who they are—there’s that question again—in a world increasingly oriented toward mobility rather than mechanical transport, electric motors rather than V8 engines.

Ford v Ferrari puts in stark relief the stunted mentality of previous generations. Carroll Shelby, crystalized by Hollywood like a mosquito in amber, is its totem artifact of generations dead and gone. For those who are serious about making brilliant, thrilling, innovative vehicles in the modern age, he’s best left behind.

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[bunni-staria]

[🥧 bake autumn treats together (pumpkin pie, cookies...) @adorablehime ]

 Chilly air, autumn leaves changing, Pumpkin growing. The air smelled like pumpkin spice and hot chocolate drinks. The thought of trying something so delicious always clouded the idol mind of Ai. What should she bake? Thinking about someone in peculiar-someone with long orange hair, her eyes full of kindness and bread. Who else could she think of? Hime-chan! Already bought the ingredients pumpkin, apple, cherry. Just had to bring over to Orihime house which lately they been hanging out and while she started to do her own idol job here in Karakura town. So many choices where she could bake anything with Orihime. Thinking about it now, she wasn't so popular yet since she lost her other members being here instead where she was. Ai didn't mind if she found new agency which she would miss B-Komachi and her agency however she loved where Orihime lived even when she learned about hollows and other things. Her focus was around idol work and Orihime often would protect her and try to keep her out of danger. Nothing seemed to faze her so, a lot of times Orihime scold her being that she is so carefree.

Running toward Orihime apartment, her feet tapping against the ground where she carried the bags with her. Not thinking she be busy or have company over. She didn't think that far ahead or even if she not be home. Running up the stairs, her lips formed a warm smile while she was excited to see her and also bake some goodies. It would be the perfect time too. How could she refuse? This is the first time she have a friend who isn't hating her or jealous of her. Someone who is like her in a way who accepts her for who she is. Ai smiled cheerfully about that before she puts the bags down in front of her and knocks on the door. "Hime-chan!! Are you there?" She asks softly, picking up the bag she search for the pumpkin that was held in her hands when she pushed it against the door and makes noises with her voice in a different tone. "Orihime, come open the door so I can bake cookies or pies with chu! Raaawr!!" 

[bunni-staria]

"this is bad. you should wait here." (from conan!) { @trattcria }

Unfamiliar voice called out to her, it sounded new and not how her screaming fans would shout out to her. A warm smile appeared on her face, his words confused her more than anything. Wait here? What would she wait for? Asking herself all the questions, she turned to the person where she never seen them before. It brought out her curiosity.

"Hm?" Her starry eyes focused on him, watching him closely where she is known to listen to whoever speaks to her in that moment. He sounded concerned for her well being. Ai didn't think she was in danger. Perhaps he felt she was? The question is why would she need to wait. Instead of panicking like any other person. She was calm, collected and as a idol most would freak out about this information. However, she been through a lot and worked hard to get where she is today. "Excuse me! What is it for me to wait for? Do you know why?" Her tone was confusion also excitement why she would wait. If anything bad is to approach she would take it head on. That's the best she could do for her fans or anyone!

[rookieskrp]

• •  LEE, DONGHYUK  ( DON )  ▸  000712  ▸  COLLEGE STUDENT / PHONE PSYCHIC  • •

“ it’s easy for someone to joke about scars if they’ve never been cut. ”

▸ ▸ ▸ BEGINNER STATISTICS.

SINGING ›     04.  DANCING ›     01.  RAPPING ›     03.   CHARISMA ›     05.  CREATIVITY ›     02.  

I HAVE BEEN  ▸ ▸ ▸   scorned. I AM  ▸ ▸ ▸   ferocious. I WILL BE  ▸ ▸ ▸   adored.

▸ ▸ ▸ WHO AM I.

• • •  there’s a pause where a silent figure behind the camera must cue him. a still image in the frame for just a few brief seconds before he bursts to life. “hey there, my name’s lee donghyuk. year of the dragon, brilliant scholar, and the cutest one you’ll see watching these things.” he grins with rows of shiny white teeth. “i don’t really know what else to say here. i’m a good little choir boy, so if you’d like me to sing about the birth of the savior or something i’ve got you covered. great for weddings and i accept cash. if you need someone to do all of the raps at karaoke so you can sing the choruses i’ve got you covered but don’t expect the second coming of jk tiger.” he laughs in a fond self-deprecation. “so why don’t you support me and have a little fun. i don’t bite much.” 

▸ ▸ ▸ WHY AM I HERE.

• • •  “what are my goals, hm,” donghyuk taps an index finger against his lips, eyes slid towards the sky. he holds this for a beat, and then a smirk twists and his eyes cut back to the lens. “i want to be famous, of course,” he answers. there’s a mocking lilt that colors his tone but his smile lets the viewer in on the joke. don’t we all want to be famous? but who says that out loud? “i don’t really care about the money, you don’t need to be an idol to get that. i just like a crowd.” he tilts his head and smiles sweetly at the camera. “won’t you keep your eyes on me? i promise i won’t disappoint.” he adds a wink and a little wave. there are too many rings on his fingers to count, and he’s sure they flash in the camera’s viewfinder. 

FOLLOW ME • MESSAGE ME • READ ALL ABOUT ME

▸ ▸ ▸ WELCOME TO ROOKIES, LEE DONGHYUK !

• • • ROOKIES ! is a closed, literate KRP that follows the triumphs and heartaches of original characters living in Seoul and trying to find their way in the competitive world of K-Pop. From the struggles of training to the moment they finally debut and beyond, ROOKIES ! takes you on the journey from starry-eyed dreamer to idol star. THINK YOU’VE GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE IT TO THE TOP?  • • •