#top team on the campaign

[condurrepartners]

The Condurre Partners team is back from an unforgettable trip to Austin! 🤠

The crew had a blast learning from some of the best in their industry, recognizing top performers, reconnecting with friends and colleagues from across the nation, and making cherished memories. 🤝

One highlight of the event was the awards the team earned: Michael received recognition for leading the Top Team on the Campaign and being in the $30K Club, and Gabby earned the Game Changer award! 🏆

[barn-dawg]

People moaning about third party votes are so funny to me like do you really think 0.8% more votes would've won Kamala the election

[minart-was-taken]

Short explanation of what the hell the Luffy tab on top of the dashboard is:

- For some reason the tumblr marketing team decided to make a deal with Netflix to promote the new live action One Piece movie with a site wide tab, instead of like... An ad.

- The Tab started with the name Luffy, the protagonist of the series. It has now changed to Zoro. There's not explanation given but I suspect it's in the order of the One Piece rap

- The tab seems to be very broken, only showing 5-7 posts that were posted months ago. The users who's art and posts have been included were not asked permission to be used in an ad campaign.

- The disclosing of this being an ad has also been suspect, with many only finding out through word of mouth rather than the tab telling it. I'm not a lawyer but I think that's at least skirting a crime.

- The popular reccomendation is to not engage with the tab, because it'll encourage tumblr to pull more stunts like this. Their sponsors will be delighted the more you click, no matter if its out of confusion or not.

This whole thing is a mess and I hate how marketing teams are trying to bypass adblockers by making alternative ads that get people talking. The act of me posting this is what they want and I'm enraged.... Still, uh, I want to spread the info we've gathered as a community. Let me know if you find more or something is incorrect.

Ps. dont attack one piece fans, they didn't know this was gonna happen either. Please dont leave weird comments to the posts in the tab, the OPs are not involved.

[northgazaupdates]

NEW MOTHER AND INFANT TRAPPED IN GAZA

Suad Ahmad @suad-ahmad is an engineer from Gaza. She graduated from university at the top of her class and was rapidly excelling in her career as an instructor, consultant, and team leader. Suad, her husband, and their family were overjoyed to find out she was pregnant. Sadly, this was only a week before occupation began its illegal scorched earth campaign against the people of Gaza. Suad's home and workplace were destroyed, and she and her husband's family were displaced from the north.

On the day she went into labor, Suad had to walk a great distance to the hospital. Upon arrival, she found that the hospital was operating at bare minimal capacity. There was not even a bed for her to use. Suad's baby was born with minimal medical support, and the ordeal was extremely difficult. The occupation then began bombing the vicinity of the hospital. Suad and her baby were in immense danger, with nowhere to turn.

Unfortunately, the situation has only gotten worse. Suad and her infant are now living in a tent in extreme heat. lOF attacks continue, putting their lives in immediate danger. The occupation's blockade on Rafah Crossing and the destruction of roads and infrastructure has led to increased, extreme food scarcity. Suad cannot find enough food to feed herself or her baby. She has not been able to recover from the difficult birth, and her baby is missing out on crucial nutrition needed for neonatal development. Once Rafah crossing reopens, Suad and her baby need to be able to evacuate to Egypt for their health and safety.

You can help make this possible by directly supporting them at the link below. Please, help give Suad and her baby a better chance at life. If you cannot give, please reblog this post and repost the link (https://gofund.me/ebaee2af) across all of your social media accounts.

Thank you

Verified by nabulsi and northgazaupdates

[physalian]

How To Make Your Writing Less Stiff 5

Movement

Dredging this back up from way back.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much during heavy dialogue scenes. E.g. two characters sitting and talking—do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them…

Gesture

Wave

Frown

Laugh

Cross their legs/their arms

Shift around to get comfortable

Pound the table

Roll their eyes

Point

Shrug

Touch their face/their hair

Wring their hands

Pick at their nails

Yawn

Stretch

Sniff/sniffle

Tap their fingers/drum

Bounce their feet

Doodle

Fiddle with buttons or jewelry

Scratch an itch

Touch their weapons/gadgets/phones

Check the time

Get up and sit back down

Move from chair to tabletop

The list goes on.

Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t—what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

As in, you could say “he’s nervous” or you could show, “He fidgets, constantly glancing at the clock as sweat beads at his temples.”

This site is full of discourse on telling vs showing so I’ll leave it at that.

Epithets

In the Sci-fi WIP that shall never see the light of day, I had a flashback arc for one male character and his relationship with another male character. On top of that, the flashback character was a nameless narrator for Reasons.

Enter the problem: How would you keep track of two male characters, one who you can't name, and the other who does have a name, but you can’t oversaturate the narrative with it? I did a few things.

Nameless Narrator (written in 3rd person limited POV) was the only narrator for the flashback arc. I never switched to the boyfriend’s POV.

Boyfriend had only a couple epithets that could only apply to him, and halfway through their relationship, NN went from describing him as “the other prisoner” to “his cellmate” to “his partner” (which was also a double entendre). NN also switched from using BF’s full name to a nickname both in narration and dialogue.

BF had a title for NN that he used exclusively in dialogue, since BF couldn’t use his given name and NN hadn’t picked a new one for himself.

Every time the subject of the narrative switched, I started a new paragraph so “he” never described either character ambiguously mid-paragraph.

Is this an extreme example? Absolutely, but I pulled it off according to my betas.

The point of all this is this: Epithets shouldn’t just exist to substitute an overused name. Epithets de-personalize the subject if you use them incorrectly. If your narrator is thinking of their lover and describing that person without their name, then the trait they pick to focus on should be something equally important to them. In contrast, if you want to drive home how little a narrator thinks of somebody, using depersonalizing epithets helps sell that disrespect.

Fanfic tends to be the most egregious with soulless epithets like "the black-haired boy" that tell the reader absolutely nothing about how the narrator feels about that black-haired boy, espeically if they're doing so during a highly-emotional moment.

As in, NN and BF had one implied sex scene. Had I said “the other prisoner” that would have completely ruined the mood. He’s so much more than “the other prisoner” at that point in the story. “His partner,” since they were both a combat team and romantically involved, encompassed their entire relationship.

The epithet also changed depending on what mood or how hopeless NN saw their situation. He’d wax and wane over how close he believed them to be for Reasons. NN was a very reserved character who kept BF at a distance, afraid to go “all in” because he knew there was a high chance of BF not surviving this campaign. So NN never used “his lover”.

All to say, epithets carried the subtext of that flashback arc, when I had a character who would not talk about his feelings. I could show you the progression of their relationship through how the epithets changed.

I could show you whenever NN was being a big fat liar about his feelings when he said he's not in love, but his narration gave him away. I could show you the exact moment their relationship shifted from comrades to something more when NN switched mid-paragraph from "his cellmate" to "his partner" and when he took up BF's nickame exclusively in the same scene.

I do the same thing in Eternal Night when Elias, my protagonist, stops referring to Dorian as "it" and "the vampire" instead of his name the moment they collide with a much more dangerous vampire, so jarringly that Elias notices in his own narration—the point of it being so explicit is that this degredation isn't automatic, it's something he has to conciously do, when everyone else in his clan wouldn't think twice about dehumanizing them.

—

Any literary device should be used with intent if you want those layers in your work. The curtains are rarely just blue. Whether it’s a simile with a deliberate comparison or an epithet with deliberate connotations, your readers will pick up on the subtext, I promise.

[keywordriser1]

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[imjustheretotrytohelp]

Not gonna lie, I'm a bit tired to see the constant argument that people on Tumblr do not have money to donate anymore . We're getting into the Christmas season, with people buying gifts and preparing for Black Friday yet no one can spare to give $5 to a fundraiser ?

I'm always thinking about what the team @/gazafunds posted on twitter, about how they started packing their own lunch and giving up on many things to be able to donate to fundraisers, on top of working endlessly to verify campaigns, making an managing their website etc. Why do the people most affected by the genocide are the one making the most sacrifices ? Even if you are not Arab and/or Palestinian, shouldn't you feel horrified all the same by an ethnic cleansing?

No one is asking for Tumblr users to stop their life and never buy anything ever again, but I find it very concerning to see Palestinian work to the bone to vet and support fundraisers while most people just don't care and reblog "free Palestine" posts without doing anything substantial.

It's not too late to help though. Many people would benefit from getting help, one of them being Shahed (@shahdhatem) for who donations are getting even more scarce. She's one of the kind souls who spent her time during the last year supporting other victims of genocide by treating injuries, distributing food and teaching children who couldn't go to school anymore. Please consider helping her and her family get through these horrors by donating .

Donate here | Commissions in exchange of donations | Vetted by @/nabulsi

Also please check out @/gazafunds site and sudanfunds.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Cranberries - Zombie 1994

"Zombie" is a protest song by Irish alternative rockband the Cranberries. It was written by the lead singer, Dolores O'Riordan, about the young victims of a bombing in Warrington, England, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The song was released on 19 September 1994 as the lead single from the Cranberries' second studio album, No Need to Argue. While the record label feared releasing a too controversial and politically charged song as a single, "Zombie" reached number 1 on the charts of Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, and spent nine consecutive weeks at number 1 on the French SNEP Top 100. It reached number 2 on the Ö3 Austria Top 40, where it stayed for eight weeks. The song did not chart on the US Billboard Hot 100 chart as it wasn't released as a single there, but it reached number 1 on the US Billboard Alternative Airplay chart. Listeners of the Australian radio station Triple J voted it number 1 on the 1994 Triple J Hottest 100 chart, and it won the Best Song Award at the 1995 MTV Europe Music Awards.

The Troubles were a conflict in Northern Ireland from the late 1960s to 1998. The Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), an Irish republican paramilitary organisation, waged an armed campaign to end British rule in Northern Ireland and unite the region with the Republic of Ireland. Republican and Unionist paramilitaries killed more than 3,500 people, many from thousands of bomb attacks. One of the bombings happened on 30 March 1993, as two IRA improvised explosive devices hidden in litter bins were detonated in a shopping street in Warrington, England. Two people; Johnathan Ball, aged 3, and Tim Parry, aged 12, were killed in the attack. 56 people were injured. Ball died at the scene of the bombing as a result of his shrapnel-inflicted injuries, and five days later, Parry lost his life in a hospital as a result of head injuries. O'Riordan decided to write a song that reflected upon the event and the children's deaths after visiting the town: "We were on a tour bus and I was near the location where it happened, so it really struck me hard – I remember being devastated about the innocent children being pulled into that kind of thing. So I suppose that's why I was saying, 'It's not me' – that even though I'm Irish it wasn't me, I didn't do it. Because being Irish, it was quite hard, especially in the UK when there was so much tension." The song was re-popularised in 2023 after it was played after Ireland games at the 2023 Rugby World Cup. It was picked up by fans of the Irish team, with videos of fans singing the song in chorus accumulating hundreds of thousands of views on social media. This offended other Irishmen, who identified it as an "anti-IRA" anthem, and said that that the lyrics failed to consider their experience during the Troubles.

The music video, directed by Samuel Bayer, was filmed in Belfast, Northern Ireland, in the heart of the Troubles with real footage, and in Dublin. To record video footage of murals, children and British Army soldiers on patrol, he had a false pretext, with a cover story about making a documentary about the peace-keeping efforts in Ireland. Bayer stated that a shot in the video where an SA80 rifle is pointed directly at the camera is a suspicious British soldier asking him to leave, and that the IRA were keeping a close look at the shoot, given "the British Army come in with fake film crews, getting people on camera.” While "Zombie" received heavy rotation on MTV Europe and was A-listed on Germany's VIVA, the music video was banned by the BBC because of its "violent images", and by the RTÉ, Ireland's national broadcaster. Instead, both the BBC and the RTÉ opted to broadcast an edited version focusing on footage of the band in a live performance, a version that the Cranberries essentially disowned. Despite their efforts to maintain the original video "out of view from the public", some of the initial footage prevailed, with scenes of children holding guns. In March 2003, on the eve of the outbreak of the Iraq War, the British Government and the Independent Television Commission issued a statement saying ITC's Programme Code would temporarily remove from broadcast songs and music videos featuring "sensitive material", including "Zombie". Numerous media groups complied with the decision to avoid "offending public feeling", along with MTV Europe. Since it violated the ITC guidelines, "Zombie" was placed on a blacklist of songs, targeting its official music video. The censorship was lifted once the war had ended. In April 2020, it became the first song by an Irish group to surpass one billion views on Youtube.

"Zombie" received a total of 91% yes votes!

[mv1simp]

Into You ♥️

Max Verstappen x Redbull Engineer! Reader

Oh baby, look what you've started, the temperature's rising and is this gonna happen? (Been waitin' and waitin' for you to make a move)

At 27, you've just been promoted to the role of Redbull's race engineer - a very impressive feat in motorsport for a young woman. There's just one issue though - you secretly had a massive crush on the driver you're meant to be guiding, Max Verstappen. Will you make it through the season before he catches on? (You hope so because goddamn, the HR team were a nightmare to deal with.)

Content includes: fluff, humour, Max and reader are simps for each other, sexual tension, pining, drunk confessions, 3.2k WC

Recently, you'd started having some issues at work. Okay, gun to your head, you'll admit it was more like a single issue - in the shape of a very attractive, 6 foot Dutch racing driver who occasionally had problems with anger management. Sure, it didn’t sound that bad, in fact, someone else would just sit back and enjoy the eye candy the F1 paddock provided! But to truly appreciate the full depth of your embarrassing problem, one needed to unpack all the lore behind it.

After graduating from a prestigious mechanical engineering master's program, you'd been ecstatic about getting to intern at Redbull's F1 racing team, department of aerodynamic design. You'd started working at the company at a very good time, because later that year, their top driver Max Verstappen claims his first WDC at age 24 - only 6 months your junior. A very impressive feat for such a young age - as you admire him from a distance in the garage workshop. And, super hot too, you thought cheekily, whoever wifed him up was sure to be a lucky woman.

Your own hard work hadn't gone unnoticed, and many higher-ups and sponsors alike were curious to see the team who had been behind the championship winning changes to the Redbull car. You'd risen very quickly in the ranks, from intern to permanent technical engineer and then last year to to the innovative research & development department, now involved directly with calling the big shots for what each version of the car would look like and coming face to face with Max for the first time in your career with Redbull.

Unlike the other drivers, Max was genuinely curious about your design process. The way he asked questions, thoughtfully listened to your long explanations and then would give you direct feedback about the exact issues he would have in the trial runs had made you flustered, especially from the full intensity of his blue eyes. No, seriously though, Shakespeare himself would have written poetry if he'd gazed into them. The TikTok creators certainly seem to agree, with all their ocean eyes edits. Not that you had any saved. Anyways, moving on-

You were on the quieter side but Max seemed to know just how to get through to you. It meant that your team had been able to design the most dominating car in F1 history - the RB23, and paired with Max Verstappen it was an unstoppable force, almost like you made it just for me, Max had said, smiling gorgeously at you like some GQ Sports model. You stared back at him incredulously, banana choc chip muffin halfway to your mouth, cause who the hell woke up looking like that, you two were wearing identical Redbull shirts but his looked like it had been personally tailored to fit that broad muscular chest and yours was giving oversized trash bag??

Honestly, you'd hoped that working in closer proximity would humanise him more and you'd lose this silly crush of yours the moment you saw him do some icky rich white boy move. Like maybe he’d donate to Donald Trump's anti vaccine campaign or say guys 🥺 Can’t go to Ibiza this weekend the yacht staff had an emergency, got caught in some Gulf war zone or something? Idk

But when he had knocked on your apartment door when you hadn't shown up to work in two days, and found you crying because your childhood dog had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer across the other side of the world and saying I’m sorry, I know it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll come back tomorrow I promise-

And instead of laughing like you’d expected, he’d cut you off, told you to pack a bag and then driven you all the way to his personal jet. You looked into his beautiful blue eyes while he earnestly begged you to use it so you could make it in time to say goodbye to your Arlo before your parents put him down tonight. And that’s when you realised you were doomed to be hopelessly in love with the younger man. (But also, you had a serious discussion with him about the extreme greenhouse gas emissions from private jet fuel use, we only had one planet, you would be happy to just fly first class instead-)

But when your mentor Newey announced his plans to leave Redbull this year, you had planned on following him - making the exec panic at the thought of losing two of their crucial engineers. They frantically thrown random promotions at you, praying one would stick - and Redbull twitter fans breathed a sigh of relief when you took interest in the role of race engineer and stayed in the company.

You'd been excited about becoming one of Checo's engineers, having trained under the current one for the last few months. But to your horror, one day you arrived on the paddock only to be promptly sat down at a meeting along with the two drivers and be informed that they'd had to switch some things around, GP had an emergency to attend and could you pretty please fill in for the role of Max's race engineer this weekend-

NOPE. You'd announced, standing up and slamming your hands on the table, then realising that might be a touch overdramatic as everyone questioningly looked at you. Why not? Christian Horner demanded suspiciously.

Um, because he's super hot, you fool?! How is a girl meant to focus with him whispering track feels really wet today in her headphones? Were the years of self control to just admire from a distance like a loser and not jeopardise your career just a joke to him?? You don’t blink as your boss stared you down, hoping he could pick up on the thoughts that you’re trying to telepathically communicate. The table remained silent, only interrupted by the noisy slurping of Checo's boba tea. You quickly changed tactics - well, Verstappen is the winning champion, he needs an engineer who has experience working alongside him during the race-

Alas, the object of your affections threw a well intended wrench in your escape plans by adding that you were the perfect person, then, since you'd worked together for years and understood his communication style. Unless - he paused, flashing those deadly baby blues at you - unless the issue is you don't want to work with me?

You'd lasted all of three seconds under his hurt gaze before admitting defeat and accepting the role, slumping down next to him and desperately praying you'd wake up a lesbian tomorrow morning. Max continued to sneak long glances at you through the meeting, leaning around you to grab a pen and then his phone and making you jump each time his strong arm wrapped around your small frame. Across the table, Checo thoughtfully chewed on his boba as he watched you two curiously. Ah, young love.

And to no one's surprise the pair of you had made a flawless team, you expertly guiding Max as your engineer instincts took over and him actually listening to your helpful instructions without his usual aggression over the radio. And so when GP announced that his 1 week emergency was now going to be a 6 month break, sorry! - it had been all too easy for Christian Horner to bestow the honour of being Max's primary engineer onto you.

So now, here you sat, before your 4th race with Max, grimly looking on with your chin propped onto interlaced fingers, preparing yourself for his deep, sexy voice that was going to be purring in your ears very soon. The very voice that had become a recurring theme in the dreams you'd been having lately, that and also how he would bite those thick lips of his when he'd stare at you, with his cute little freckle on his top lip-

Why do you look like you're about to go to war, your intern asks bluntly, putting an end to your illicit thoughts and delivering you your triple chocolate caramel frap. Because I am, you hissed, sculling the whole thing in one go. She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Was this to do with how categorically down bad you are for your precious Maxie?

You proceeded to inform her that if she ever brought up how you'd drunkedly referred to him that one time, you'd have no problem abusing your authority to shaft her on tire service duty for a week. She wisely chose to leave you be in peace, taking your empty cup as she went.

Taking some meditative breaths, you focus on thinking about unsexy things. Like the hydraulics system of the current car needing to be redesigned to better incorporate-

Your thoughts are cut off a second time as another cup is deposited in front of you, this time by none other than Max himself, who's thoughtfully brought you a triple chocolate caramel frap. You stutter out your thanks, not daring to touch more caffeine currently as you already had sweaty palpitations at the sight of him looking so big and muscled in his slutty tight fireproofs. Dear God, had he no shame? They needed to bring back the Victorian era and cover him up, he was going to distract everyone (mainly you.) He frowns slightly, leaning down to your height, and informs you that you didn't have to call him Verstappen, you know, Max is fine-

Wow. And then what would come next? Maxie? And then you asking him for his hand in marriage? No, no, absolutely not - you needed to maintain strict professional boundaries or risk him catching onto your massive crush and promptly be fired. You politely informed him that for the sake of public decorum and the rabid fangirls that were watching your every move as a young female engineer in proximity to their favourite drivers, that you would refer to him as Verstappen, or Mr. Verstappen if he preferred a more formal title?

He'd pouted those lush lips of his and reluctantly agreed that just Verstappen was okay, he supposed. But he much preferred hearing you call him Max, at least when there were no cameras around? What you had done in your past life to now be forced to resist such temptation, you would never know.

So the season went on, you two continuing to be a smashing success and a very popular internet pairing. Not that you'd been paying that much attention! Just a saved TikTok edit here and there of the time Max had called you schatje over the radio after blowing up about a tire malfunction. He’d then sweetly apologised the next lap when you remained unfazed and told him to sort his shit out, babes, Leclerc was right up his ass with a tire and DRS malfunction, yeah? (Twitter had gone crazy. Who knew Max Verstappen responded so well to a 5 foot, slightly older woman giving him orders over the team radio?! You’d instantly been accepted as a replacement for the beloved GP, original gentle domTM to the Dutch driver.)

And perhaps another saved edit of the time he had protectively held you in those big, strong arms of his, guiding your tiny figure through a massive media-frenzied crowd and whispered reassurances in your ear when you couldn’t breathe properly. Or the time he’d bitten a reporter’s head off with the ferocity of a lion after he suggested that as the first female race engineer, you’d acquired your new job through your…feminine wiles.

And maybe just one of when the PR team had made you do one of those ridiculous hot lap videos with him after seeing the online response, and he'd laughed as you screamed out of fear for your life when he cruised at a cool 200km/hr. The aftermath had been brutal, as you weakly stumble out and almost fall flat on your face, only for him to easily pick you up, carrying you bridal style back towards the garage (Truly, this right here was proof God sent his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.)

Nearing the end of the 6 month stint, when GP was due back in to resume his role as Max's race engineer, the Redbull team had decided to take a well deserved weekend trip to Verona, Italy. You’d suspiciously looked at your intern, asking why she’d selected the romantic setting of Romeo & Juliet of all places, to which she replied that just cause you’d chosen to cockblock yourself for eternity with a crush on your coworker the millionaire F1 driver, didn’t mean the rest of them couldn’t get some. Valid point, so you shut up.

So now, here you are, sitting in a romantically lit corner of a cute Italian vineyard with a small group from the engineering division, sloshed after a bottle of red wine and asking them be real, be real, you're telling me none of you have been checked out Max's ass in his fireproofs? Lies.

Across the courtyard, Lando is currently extremely unimpressed with his good friend, 3 time Championship winning, and general terror on the track Max Verstappen. That is because said friend has decided, rather pathetically, to lie on the cobblestone and drunkedly ask the stars why fate was so cruel. Seriously mate, Lando sighs, all this over a silly insta post?

Excuse you, it’s not just any insta post! Max had protested, baby tears in his eyes and face flushed from the four G&Ts he’d drunk. Pulling out his phone, he shows Lando the damning evidence of the pictures you'd uploaded from the group trip with your engineering friends. Look. LOOK. His arm is around her and she used a Lana Del Ray lyric in the caption. Do you have any idea what this means?

The Brit has to resist rolling his eyes at the melodrama unfolding in front of him. The Dutchman continues, never one to miss a chance to maxplain - as he details how it had taken him a a whole 2 months to get him to call you by his first name, and then another 2 months before you'd told him your favourite song was Summertime Sadness, and that even now if he hugged you to celebrate a win you would look like you were about to throw up and furiously speed walk away.

Lando is seriously regretting tagging along to the Redbull trip instead of Carlos's invitation to Mallorca. It was bad enough that the whole train ride Max had been on the phone begging GP to take another 6 month break so that you'd continue to be his engineer, but Lando has had his limit with this simpy pining. Taking his phone out as the maxplaining continued in the background, he shoots a text to your intern, who immediately replies, and within minutes the pair of them have hatched a conniving plan to dump you lovesick fools together while the rest of them make their way into town.

And that’s how you and Max find yourself locked inside the upstairs wine cellar, having been separately tricked with various promises from your scheming friends - only to hear the door click behind you and turn to find each other. It's very romantic and all, soft candlelight and bottles of luxurious Italian wine and a shining full moon visible from the terracotta balcony. Someone had even generously left a speaker in the courtyard, with Lana Del Ray's melodic voice rising upto the second floor. Basically, the worst nightmare for your self control as you prayed for inner strength and avoid looking into Max's dreamy blue eyes. This was definitely some twisted beyond the grave revenge from Shakespeare for you saying he'd write poetry about a F1 driver’s eyes.

Max, though, is all too happy to come right over to you with another freshly opened bottle of wine, drunk and flushed and having zero inhibitions about pulling you into his warm side with a strong arm. You're too buzzed to resist, letting yourself fall against his chest to hear his soothing heartbeat and rest a palm against his hard abs, just this once (The real thing was even better than what you'd imagined.)

You're both laughing and giggling then, hearts full, reminiscing about the season together, the inside jokes on the radio, the side eyes to each other when Horner got too wound up at a meeting, and oh did you hear that the McLaren tireboy was hooking up with the Mercedes oilchecker?

And then your eyes meet his and your homegirl Lana starts singing dear lord when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man (real) and Max is softly brushing your cheek, leaning down as your heated gazes flit to each other's lips-

NOPE! you force yourself to declare, dramatically leaving his arms and contemplating if you could land the jump from the 2nd floor balcony. The Italian wine has made Max demanding though, as he doesn't let you go, grabbing your hand to pull you back like he was Anthony goddamn Bridgerton and wanting to know Why not, was he just imagining the chemistry, did you not find him hot or?

You'd gaped at him. Not hot? Apparently the Italian wine had gotten to you too because you didn't hold back, launching into a tirade of how no, Max, the issue was actually that he was too hot for his own good and did he even know how unfair it had been to be his engineer, pure torture really, you were sure the American military would be adding it to their interrogation tactics. As if it hadn't been bad enough to crush on him from a distance for years but then have to resist falling for him every time you saw him? So, no, you couldn't just give him a casual drunk kiss because you were in love with him!

Max stares at you, initially smug that you apparently found him so irresistibly good looking, but now completely bewildered when you finished ranting. You think - he swallowed. You think that this is just casual? Cause I- cause I'm drunk?

At your nod, he launches into his own maxplaination, brows furrowed, demanding to know how on earth you could think it was just casual, what about when he diligently showed up to every meeting with a banana choc muffin and caramel frappe and his hoodie for you to wear on the chilly mornings, or when he brought two Lana Del Ray VIP tickets the very same day you'd told him you liked her, or when he'd literally called you darling in Dutch over the team radio for the whole world to hear, or how he even sold his private jet and only jetpooled with the others since you told him off?! Seriously, even that old crone Helmut had asked him when you two were going to hard launch!

Your doe eyes go wider and wider at each statement, a pretty flush taking over your own face as your mind boggles at the realisation that apparently, the love of your life felt just as deeply about you. Stuttering, you try to formulate a reply - only to come up with Oh, well, I, uh - you sold your jet? For me?

Max rolls his eyes, but there's nothing except pure adoration on his face as he pulls you back into his warm chest, grinning down at you when you eagerly wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Yes, schat, he murmurs gently, the cutest blush painting his cheeks. Because I love you, too. And this time you don't pull away when he finally, finally leans down and meets your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying the sweet moans he draws out of you as he showcases his numerous talents off the track.

Somewhere, in the middle of a Verona nightclub, your intern gives Lando Norris a firm handshake. Pleasure doing business with you.

_____________________________________________

A/N: A lil sweet fluff for me, this is actually my first fluff piece i think ahaha i've only written like 8 smut pieces in a row!! Hope you enjoyed 💖 and PS thank you ALL for the requests you’ve been sending, been getting them and will work thru them just have a few projects I’m cookin up for u guys hehe xx

[sprintingowl]

Deadball

Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.

It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.

I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.

One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.

For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.

For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.

In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.

Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.

For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.

There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.

Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.

It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.

For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.

[avonmom]

THE SUPER SELLERS TEAM RECOGNITION: CAMPAIGN 28 2022 + 2022 TOP ACHIEVERS

Recognition of my team, #TheSuperSellers top sellers & achievers for #Avon C28 + who the top sellers & achievers were for 2022. #AvonRep #Recognition #TopSeller

The Super Sellers Team Recognition Campaign 28 + 2022 Top Achievers Recognition is one of the benefits I love as an Avon representative. Together, we celebrate one another’s successes & triumphs, big or small. My job as a team leader & mentor is to ensure that you do recognize & celebrate your milestones, goals & achievements each step of the way. Below is an overview on how our team, The Super…

[kenjioharashotspot]

🎥 | the campaign

pairing: kenji sato x fem!reader

words: 3758

synopsis: [name] [surname] is a world-renowned model and was scouted to do a campaign with Japan's sweetheart, Kenji Sato for the well-known brand, Calvin Klein.

author's note: the one-shot is intended for mature audiences, as it contains sexual descriptions.

Owner of a caring personality and a body to die for, [name] [surname] has conquered an assertive place in the industry as one of the highest paid models. You always wanted to pursue a career in modeling; living abroad and helping out your family as you climbed the social ladder with the main goal of rubbing shoulders with the most influential people. It seemed to you, like an amazing idea, and closer to obtain than you could ever imagine.

In this particular day, [name] was absolutely stoked about the new campaign ahead! She had been working out, taking care of her body and maintaining a healthy diet. Everything in her power to be as prepared as possible for the photoshoot, later in the day.

At this moment, Reika, your best friend and manager, is lecturing you about how everything is going to happen. Brand details; location; the campaign itself...you always loved to get ready for a photoshoot. The thrill of meeting a new team was different every time and the butterflies, anxiously flying inside your stomach were no different as well.

"So, Reika, can you please stop with all this secrecy thing and tell me about the campaign! I know it's a "couple's" photoshoot so...who'll be my pair??" your air quotes, paired with your disgusted expression and eye roll, made Reika laugh at the sight of you. She knew the time would come, when she would have to reveal it to you...she was hopeful your attitude about it would be professional. She knew how much you hated Kenji Sato.

"Sooo...you'reshootingthecampaignwithKenjiSatothat'sit" the manager's fast speech caught you off guard, [name] could tell the information Reika had for her wasn't gonna be to her liking and she was right.

"Can you stop joking around and just tell me, like a normal person?"

Sure, she could announce that information to you but Reika knew that, even though your job required professionalism and seriousness, you couldn't maintain those attributes when it came to working; interacting; or even talking with/to Kenji. Reika knew how you fell about him and, consequently, your reaction was deeply awaited by the woman in front of you.

"You're shooting the Calvin Klein campaign with Kenji Sato... — you open your eyes, as wide as you possibly can, Reika doesn't even let you start a sentence, immediately interrupting your train of thought — I know! You don't like him and even though, I'll never understand why...I feel obligated to tell you that this photoshoot is more important than anything else"

You muttered in utter disbelief, baffled by such a disrespectful decision made by the people surrounding you. Reika crosses your arms, looking at you and as she frowned, you stopped.

"Right, okay, fine! Let's do this shit! The sooner we launch the campaign, the faster I can get rid of that cocky player" your reply caught Reika off guard as she was expecting you to react obnoxious and childish. She smiled and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it up and down, showing you some sort of support.

"That's the spirit! Now, get ready! We need to get going." her eye smile makes you relax a bit, reaffirming how calming of a personality Reika has and how it affects your mood.

Grabbing the keys to your convertible on top of the kitchen counter, you two leave the house, full of excitement and expectations about the important photoshoot ahead you. "Body" by Megan Thee Stallion blasted on the radio, listening to music was your way to get into the photoshoots and interviews. One of the instruments you adopted to feel yourself and hype, music! Oh, and what an amazing way to calm your nerves, always worked. You always made sure to show up to your events or shoots with some treats for the team, and this time was no different! You stayed up, baking the night away, but the little cupcakes tasted, not to brag, divine.

As you pull up to the studio, Reika helps with the cupcake boxes. The ambience smelled so delicious, who knew that, besides being the hottest model in the world, you could also dribble in the kitchen world. A box full of surprises.

The photographers were awaiting you, as you were the last one arriving at the studio. Seeing all those people looking at you made you feel somewhat uncomfortable, as your cheeks automatically gained a dusted shade of red. You are a model, but you hate being the center of attention, especially the wrong one.

"Hello [name], I'm Kaito Hamato, I'll be the director for this shoot. It's so nice to meet you. Behind you it's your fitting room, the clothes are organized accordingly so, whenever you're ready" his smile was patient, you could tell he was nice by the way he guided you to the fitting room. The moment you enter that room, everything clicked! You'd be wearing lingerie in the same vicinity as that cocky player who thinks everyone is obsessed with him. You hated that. Sure, you couldn't deny, he sure was nice to look at, but either way, your focus on your job was way bigger right now.

Sitting in front of the mirror with your eyes closed as the makeup artist finishes your makeup, you couldn't help but to feel another presence in the area. Could be a heavier presence, meaning, a male one. It was until you heard the squeak sound of the makeup chair a few inches from you, that you slowly opened your eyes, only to see THE Kenji Sato sitting next to you, getting his makeup nice and fresh again.

The slow eye roll you gave him, made him chuckle. That reaction of yours was always  automatic at the sight of him.

"Wow, I didn't even said a word! Is that the power I exude over you? I'm flattered" his sarcastic and overconfident tone was sending you through the roof, you couldn't help but to squeeze your hands as hard as you could, making them get a shade lighter, such was not your annoyance expression.

"You're a complete prick, I hope you know that" your disgusted semblant is noticeable for miles and miles, you promised Reika to be civil and respectful but...with such an idiot by your side, those promises are sort of impossible to keep.

"Prick, huh? Trying out a new nickname, are we?" Kenji slightly lifts his eyebrow, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looking at you for a hot minute. He won't even try to deny, he loves that game you two play. Still, he seems to not understand why the cold shoulders from your end, but how he loved to tease you. You were so easy for him to tease and make angry.

"Baby, you wish you had that much importance to me" the makeup artist gives you permission to get up from the chair, telling you to step into some other room to change outfits. The talk between you two ended as soon as you told Kenji you'd see him in a few minutes for the photoshoot.

In the makeup room, he runs his hands through his hair, shook by this interaction. It's not that he didn't want to have that intimacy with you, because believe me, he was thirsty for it.  But reaching you seemed too impossible, not even the most difficult women to conquer were as difficult as you have been.

When he received the campaign's proposal with you, he was thrilled, as he thought that, finally, he would have a chance to spend more time with you. Your encounters always seemed too fleeting for him, and he hated that.

"Mister Sato, [name] is ready to start shooting the campaign, we just need you, to start." Kaito informs, with the tender smile that characterizes him. Kenji nods and then gets up. His pecs, covered in oil for a wet look and the boxers that highlighted his body in a completely sensual way were all the directors needed to make sure the campaign was a success! Kenji was Japan's sweetheart after all, so would it be too soon to say, the campaign would be a worldwide phenomenon? I guess not.

"Is the princess ready?" your voice echoed in his ears, he was about to talk back at you when he completely froze. The body that stood in front of him, was also oiled up, highlighting your muscles and abs, as you crossed your arms the Calvin Klein bra made your breasts the center of attention. Seeing you like this drove Kenji wild, it was like he was seeing you in a different light, like a woman and not one of his one night conquests.

"Let's do this thing!" his absence of a comeback made you wonder what happened, he always had something to say and something to do in order to make you mad. You frowned but soon relaxed and agreed.

"So, this is a couple's campaign. I'll give you the directions, just follow them to the best of your abilities. [name] please, kneel in front of Kenji and straddle his legs. Make sure to lean forward."

While you're getting ready, one of the other photographers is helping Kenji out with his pose. He is seated with one leg bent and the other extended, holding your waist with one hand while his other hand rests on your thigh. You're are facing each other closely, foreheads touching, creating an intimate and affectionate moment. His cold hands make you instinctively shiver in contact with your warm skin. Your reaction caughts Kenji by surprise but it's pleasant to him, seeing you react to his touch.

Reika is happily observing the moment, feeling butterflies in her stomach and obsessing over your interaction with Kenji. She always thought you guys looked amazing together and when Calvin Klein reached out to her to discuss the next campaign, she was actually more excited about it than you.

"You smell really good" Kenji whispers, trying not to draw the photographer's attention as they're correcting your positions. You can't help to shyly smile as you hear his low voice next to your ear.

"T-thanks! You smell really nice as well" your voice sounded different than before. It was smoky, almost soft spoken, way different from the rough tone you used with Kenji earlier. Your cheeks, now painted a dusted coral shade, showed Kenji how comfortable you were with him. His broad smile, showing off his straight teeth could make you melt right there.

"Right kiddos, let's try another pose, this one was amazing. We're leaving for lunch after this one. I want to see something fun, out of the box. Kenji please use this chair, you sit on it and spread your legs. [name], you go sit at the edge on Kenji's knee."

You two do as you're told. However, you can't help but to add some details to the pose as you slightly bend down at the waist, leaning forward with your hands on the thighs. You're now dressed in the same grey lingerie and a denim jacket. Both of you can see the contentment in Kaito's face, his semblant was contagious.

Kenji's knee in contact with your pulsating cunt makes it hard for you to keep controlling your moans. He can feel this pose has some affects, as your pussy keeps getting warmer by the pose you guys are doing. Sato smirked and decided to add his own twist on the pose, grabbing your hair making you face the ceiling as your hands automatically go behind your back, holding onto his thighs. The photographers watching could feel the heat of the moment surrounding the studio, Kaito was living for every second of the photoshoot, he could see the billboards; the money; even more fame for the both of you; it was all coming together.

"Perfect! I can see this campaign will be grand guys. We'll have a lunch break now, feel free to change Kenji and [name]. See you in 40 minutes."

While the team prepared to head out for lunch, Kenji and you completely desfigured the pose you were in, relaxing a bit and heading off to each other's fitting rooms. Your heartbeat was increasing it's pace, you thought it might explode! Suddenly, he didn't piss you off that much? It was weird to think but, having in consideration the state he left your pussy during that fucking pose, it was appropriate to claim he left your heart skipping a beat.

It was just you and Kenji in that studio, he was in his fitting room and you in yours. For some odd reason, his shoulders and back hadn't left your mind, it's like those attributes of his were glued to your memory and refused to leave.

"Did I turned you on that much?" you froze, causing a huge vibration to run through your body, almost causing your trembling legs to collapse right there. Looking in the mirror in front of you, Kenji was pervertedly checking you out, measuring every inch of your almost naked body. His side smirk just caused you to feel even warmer for him.

"D-dont, don't know what you're talking about" The undeniable shake in your voice was everything Kenji needed to hear before turning you around to face him. Your face in between his long fingers as he squeezed those soft cheeks of yours, he loved when you had to look up at him and he loved putting his strength upon you, so those pretty eyes of yours would become teary.

"C'mon baby, I felt it! That warm pussy of yours gave you away"

As he kept squeezing your face in between his fingers, his other hand made a sinful path from your breasts, down to your stomach, reaching the soft material of your underwear. He'd look down and up, seeing you widen your eyes at his bold attitude. His cold hand, making it inside your underwear, touching your pussy, made you whimper and close your legs as the cold impact sent you shivers up your spine. Your hand, griping onto Kenji's forearm, would be filled with nail digging marks. The stimulation felt good and all but you needed freedom to talk to him when the moment required you to.

"Don't be so full of yourself Kenji" your words came out with some difficulty, that muffled voice of yours, by the position your mouth was in was making you anxious. You wanted to use your words as clearly as possible, without shaking or revealing any weakness, but how could you? Kenji was driving you crazy.

"You've been playing hard to get ever since you arrived, darling" Kenji slowly releases your face, caressing your cheek as a final contact. Your eyes meet, staring at each other, communicating everything you wish to say in words during your eye contact.

"I don't think I'm gonna last that long if you keep teasing me like that" your voice was needy, your entire body craved his touch. Surprise clouded his features, as Kenji's cat eye looking eyes darkened in pure desire.

"Always so impatient, beautiful? I can work with that." He remarked, guiding you towards the fitting room's couch, laying you down gently.

Kenji can't resist to pinning you down, placing each arm on each side of your shoulders and opening your legs with the help of his knee, positioning his leg in the middle of your bottom limbs. Your impatient whimpers make Kenji smile in satisfaction at the effect he has on you. The female body underneath Kenji, trembling at his invested knee contact against the thin fabric of her panties.

"Please...I beg you Kenji, fuck me" you desperately gasped at Kenji's touch against the fabric of your panties, almost begging him to tear them off your body.

"You sound so good using that pretty mouth of yours to beg for it. I'll make sure you have a great time" his lips get stuck like glue to your neck, you could mentally count the kisses and melt at the same time. Your nails, scratching his nape made him go wild, he couldn't control himself anymore, Sato needed you.

With one fast move, your panties are long, ripped apart, forgotten in some corner. You open your eyes in surprise, feeling thrilled at the moment. As your faces drew closer, the world around them seemed to fade away. His lips were soft and inviting, a perfect match for the warmth of your own. Their breaths mingled, a sensual and needed dance of anticipation and desire. A tentative brush that sent shivers down their spines, growing deeper and more urgent as you two surrender to the moment. Your tongues, working in unison to create a hot environment, you both needed each other.

"O-oh my...God! I can't- please- fuck me-" You said in between the kiss, your hand gently reaching the waistband of Kenji's boxers, feeling his pulsating cock in the palm of your warm hand. He grunts as soon your hand touches his member in despair.

He stands up quickly, Kenji's boxers already around his ankles. His massive cock makes you gag in shock by the size of it. Precum already sliding down his swollen tip, making you salivate.

As you're admiring his full body, you feel in your mind the need to sit down on the couch, opening your legs to him. The bralette is long gone as well, revealing that amazing set of tits of yours.

"Sit on my face, I want to taste you" Kenji walks towards you, laying down on the couch. He bites his bottom lip, seeing you get close to his face. Each leg of yours on each side of Kenji's head, his warm breath in contact with your clit makes you shiver. He pushes you down, grabbing onto your thighs, squeezing them tightly and aggressively. Your loud and startled moan echoes in the fitting room, his wet tongue drawing circles around your clit makes you reach out for his hair, grabbing onto it. With one hand on Kenji's locks, the other one is free to start masturbating the man underneath you.

The man's vibrating whimpers make you ride his face as you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter. His cock is too big in comparison with your hand, that keeps stroking the full extension of his pulsating member. He was looking at you, riding his face without mercy, like a life size dildo, he was enjoying it so much.

"FUCK- I'm- gonna come" you thirsted your hips back and forth, riding Sato's face faster as you start feeling a buildup of pleasure, the tension accumulating in the lower region of your stomach was an indicator of the orgasm ahead.

His tongue movements increased rapidly, he wanted to provide you with the most intense orgasms.

As you're feeling contractions in your genital area, accompanied by involuntary muscle spasms, a sense of euphoria feels your body. You can almost hear your hear beat increase abruptly as you reach your climax. Can't help but to smear your cum all over Kenji's face who, satisfyingly smiles seeing how much he made you cum.

"Lay down gorgeous, I'll make you cum again...but now, on my dick"

With a fast and simple move, for Kenji, he switches positions, getting on top of you. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his wet hardness against your needy opening, begging to be ravished by Kenji's hard wood.

All this teasing got your body going into a frenzy, as he pushed his cock inside you, you pushed him closer by hugging him. Your lips went directly into Kenji's neck, biting it and sucking on it, suppressing your gasp as your pussy was getting stretched by the extension of Sato's dick.

Kenji's manhood, hitting your g-spot several times made you dig your nails through his entire back. He was loving the way your body was reacting to being fucked by him, your eyes, getting blood shot from all the pleasure and all the heat was unbearable for him to watch without wanting to destroy you.

"My dear Lord, you're so mesmerizing like this, I could get used to fucking you every day" Every word, every stroke, every moan was a demonstration of how much the both of you were enjoying each other's bodies.

You put your wrist on your mouth, biting down onto it, you're grasping for air at this point! Feeling your neck tense up, hurting so hard that it's good. Kenji's blood flow on his genitalia was building up, indicating an orgasm. He feels his heart rate, muscles and neck tense as your pussy walls make it hard for him to escape your insides. Both of you are going to come, sooner or later.

"You're- that- fuck...that pussy of yours...so addictive...I'm gonna cum baby" His face, now facing the ceiling, reveals to you, his climax is near, as well as yours.

"Me to-too daddy...cum inside me...p-please cum inside my pussy" Your voice sounded desperate, you needed this, completion for both of you was near and you couldn't stop thinking about his warm cum dripping from the inside of your needy cunt.

You arch your back and squeeze your tits as your eyes seem to go crazy, going into the back of your head. Kenji on the other hand, pushes one hand down on your stomach, feeling his huge cock inside your body and it makes him go feral. By instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, making it impossible to escape your embrace and carve nonsense lines with your nails all over his back. You two were coming in tune, each other's cum getting mixed up inside you felt so good.

"You're such a good girl!" He says, a little out of breath, while removing his cock from your inside your pussy, admiring how much cum is dripping onto the couch.

"And you're a sex god!" You smile, stealing a passionate kiss from him. Your body felt totally different, lighter, almost like you were getting drunk off the smell of sex hovering everywhere in the fitting room.

"Kenji? [name]? Are you guys in there? Let's continue on with our photoshoot!" Kaito's voice was heard from the outside of the fitting room. The two adults inside got up, eyes widened. Analyzing the room would give the impression an hurricane went by and destroyed everything (and everyone! *wink wink*)

"We. Are. Fucked."

Both of you said in unison. You guys were in fact, fucked!

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 8

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The next day, the headlines dominated the news:

"The Barnes Brothers' Hidden Scandal Exposed"

"Shawn Barnes: The Untouchable Elite Dodging Justice"

"Political Candidate’s Family Ties to Corruption Unveiled"

At the campaign headquarters, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The usual hum of activity was replaced by silence, only broken by the sound of phones ringing off the hook.

Steve stood near the table, crumpling a newspaper in his hands, frustration written all over his face. Bucky stood by the window, his posture rigid as he stared out into the distance, lost in thought.

Steve let out a heavy sigh, massaging his temples. "I didn’t expect they’d bring up Shawn at the debate."

Bucky turned slightly, his voice calm but carrying an edge. "You know Brock. He always hits below the belt, always makes it personal."

Steve glanced out at the campaign team, who were scrambling. The room beyond was a flurry of chaos: phones ringing non-stop, staff members anxiously typing responses, pacing as they fielded questions from the press, all trying to extinguish the flames of the scandal. Steve ran a hand through his hair as he watched, feeling the weight of the situation.

"The numbers are tanking," Steve muttered, his face grim. "After this, the public’s furious. Voters won’t back a candidate whose family used connections to dodge the law."

Bucky’s jaw tightened as Steve continued, "People hate it when those with power think they’re above punishment. That’s the real damage here. It’s not just about Shawn—it’s about what it represents."

The trend #CatchShawnBarnes was everywhere, climbing to the top spot on social media. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The firestorm had erupted, fueled by rumors and bots likely hired by Brock and Edgar’s teams, intensifying the outrage.

Bucky broke the silence with a quiet, "I’m sorry."

Steve looked at him, shaking his head. "Don’t be. This isn’t on you, Buck." His tone softened. "Besides, it’s not your fault."

Steve had known the Barnes family long enough to understand the full story. Shawn, the eldest son, always had an ego, fed by the wealth and privilege of his upbringing. With everything handed to him, he acted like the world owed him, seeing himself as untouchable.

In truth, it was Shawn who was supposed to enter politics. But unlike Bucky, he lacked the charisma and leadership qualities. Caroline, their mother, had long since given up hope on her eldest son, who had failed to live up to expectations.

Back then, Bucky had been a quiet presence, almost invisible in his own home. Caroline had never even heard his voice much, even though they lived under the same roof. But everything changed when Bucky entered law school. There, he shone.

He joined clubs, became student president, volunteered, organized demonstrations, and eventually graduated as valedictorian. Every trait of a leader was there, clear for everyone to see—especially Caroline. She shifted her attention to Bucky, molding him into the perfect candidate, ensuring he stayed on the path to success.

Shawn, once the golden child, watched as the spotlight shifted to his younger brother. The attention, the purpose he had once enjoyed, slipped away. He felt lost, purposeless. That’s when the spiral began. The drugs were his escape, his way of coping with the emptiness.

At first, it was subtle. But soon, it became public knowledge—Shawn Barnes was a cocaine addict. In an attempt to save face, Caroline and Julius sent him to rehab. But the real disaster struck when Shawn escaped, driving under the influence. That’s when the accident happened—the night he hit someone with his car.

Steve didn’t know the full details after that. What he did know was that Shawn had paid bail and was sent to another rehab, the entire incident hushed up. The Barnes family had buried the scandal deep, hoping it would never see the light of day.

But as Steve thought to himself, no matter how deep you bury something, eventually the stench of rot seeps through.

"I’ll fix this," Bucky said, his voice low but determined.

Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "How, exactly?"

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Barnes household felt colder than ever, the tension suffocating the room. Shawn sat in the corner, hunched over, hugging his knees. His fingernails were chewed down to the skin, his pale face etched with panic.

"Shit... shit..." he muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal.

Across the room, Caroline and Julius were in a quiet panic. Caroline paced, wringing her hands, her face pale with fear. Julius stood by the window, his jaw clenched, staring out as if searching for answers that weren’t there.

You sat on the sofa, watching the unfolding chaos like a distant spectator. It was almost theatrical—the Barnes family, once so composed, unraveling before your eyes.

Just then, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Bucky walking in. His face was a mask of determination, his eyes dark and unreadable.

You rose from the sofa and approached him. Before you could speak, he cut you off with a low, firm voice. “I want you to stay out of sight. Away from the windows.”

You frowned but nodded, sensing the weight of his words. He brushed past you without another glance and made his way toward Shawn.

Shawn looked up at Bucky, his eyes wide and filled with fear. He seemed so small in front of his younger brother, almost shrinking under the weight of Bucky’s presence.

“Get up,” Bucky ordered, his voice hard. Without waiting for a response, he reached down and pulled Shawn to his feet.

Shawn stumbled but didn’t resist. He followed Bucky like a lost child.

“Where are you taking him?” Caroline’s voice trembled as she rushed forward to stop them, but Bucky didn’t break stride.

“What he should’ve done years ago,” Bucky answered coldly, dragging Shawn along.

Caroline hurried after them, her heels clicking against the floor. “Bucky, wait! What do you mean?”

Bucky led them outside, the sound of the door swinging open making Caroline stop in her tracks. She froze as her eyes widened in shock. There, right outside their home, were TV station cameras, police cars, and flashing lights.

Caroline’s heart pounded in her chest. “Bucky,” she hissed, her voice sharp with disbelief. “How could you do this? This is a public execution! You’re putting a guillotine to your own brother!”

Julius stepped forward, his voice tired but stern. “Son, is this really the only way?”

Bucky turned briefly to look at his parents, his expression cold. “We have to set an example.”

Caroline’s face twisted in fear, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Bucky, please... don’t do this.”

Before Bucky could respond, Shawn’s voice rang out, shaky but clear. “Stop!” he shouted.

Caroline flinched, her eyes locking with Shawn’s. His face was pale, but his eyes, for the first time in years, looked determined.

“Mother,” Shawn said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been free from jail, but there’s been a shackle on me ever since. Guilt has haunted me every day. I’ve been hiding, running, pretending it didn’t happen. But it did. And I need to face it.”

Bucky gave his brother a nod, and Shawn took a shaky breath before turning to him. “Let’s go.”

They walked toward the press together. Cameras flashed as Bucky led Shawn to the bouquet of microphones, the press shouting questions over one another. Shawn took a deep breath and stepped forward. His hands trembled as he gripped the podium.

“I made a mistake,” Shawn began, his voice cracking. “I was reckless... I hurt someone. I ran from it, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry—for what I did and for hiding it for so long.”

As the words left his mouth, you could see the weight of guilt lifting from his shoulders, though his face remained heavy with regret. He glanced at Bucky, who stood beside him, stoic but supportive. Bucky knew how much the accident haunted Shawn, how it had eaten him alive from the inside out.

After Shawn finished his confession, he stepped away from the podium and voluntarily walked toward the waiting police car. The press erupted with questions aimed at Bucky. One reporter shouted above the rest, “Why did you expose your own brother like this?”

Bucky met the reporter’s gaze, his voice steady and firm. “Because no one is above the law.”

As Shawn was driven away, Caroline stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mask of fury. She didn’t want to look at Bucky, not now, not after what he’d done. Julius said nothing, too exhausted to protest or intervene.

Once the commotion had died down, you walked up to Bucky, your voice low. “You don’t feel guilty? Sacrificing your own brother like that?”

Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "I'll do anything to get that position. It’s all for you too, babe." His voice was low, dangerous, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the intensity in his gaze as his lips hovered just inches from your skin. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something intoxicating in the way he said it, like a promise that left you both thrilled and unnerved.

You met his gaze, your pulse racing. "You’re crazy," you muttered, though the words felt weaker than you intended.

Without another word, you pulled away, leaving him standing there, the charge of the moment lingering long after you had gone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day you returned to the campaign headquarters, where the atmosphere was thick with tension.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours. The campaign team buzzed with a frenetic energy, fueled by the fallout from Shawn’s confession. Despite the chaos, there was a flicker of optimism; his admission had managed to regain some trust from the voters.

Yet, you could sense the undercurrent of anxiety. Everyone was on edge, aware that the storm wasn't over. Phone calls rang out, strategy meetings were called, and you could see the weight of the situation pressing down on each team member's shoulders. You felt a mix of relief and dread—relief that there was hope, but dread about what might come next.

Your brother, Tim was still focused and serious as he poured over the reports, his usual calm replaced by a quiet intensity. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. But you couldn’t linger on that.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

The streets were busy, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the chaos of everything that had happened. The scandal, the press, Bucky. It felt like everything was unraveling. The nearest café was only a block away, and you pushed through the door, grateful for the brief respite.

That’s when you saw him.

Ian.

He was leaning casually against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand, but the moment he spotted you, something changed in his expression. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was far from friendly.

You froze in place, staring at him for a beat too long. “Are you spying on us?” you asked, your voice low but sharp as you crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Ian's smirk widened as if he’d been waiting for this. “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, his tone almost teasing but dripping with bitterness. “I work with the other side now.”

You felt a surge of frustration, but more than that, something inside you twisted—an old wound reopening. You took a step closer, your eyes narrowing.

“We’ve worked together, Ian. We’ve seen injustice and unfairness in the world. But this…” You hesitated, searching his face for any trace of the person you used to know. “This feels personal.”

Ian’s smile faded, replaced by something darker. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, everyone in the café left, leaving just the two of you inside.

You were taken aback, a chill running down your spine as the door swung shut behind the last customer.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You got that right,” he said, his eyes burning with something deep and unresolved.

“The person who died in that car accident? The one your dear Bucky’s brother killed? That was my twin brother.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you narrowing to just Ian and the heavy weight of his words. “Your twin…” you whispered, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

Ian’s expression hardened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Yeah. My twin brother. Both of us were put up for adoption. I didn’t even know he existed until I was fourteen years old.”

He turned his gaze away from you, the memories clearly painful, but he didn’t stop. “I was adopted by a British couple. Grew up thinking I was an only child. It wasn’t until I did some digging into my adoption records that I found out about him. My twin.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you listened, unable to speak. Ian’s voice was tight with emotion, but he pressed on.

“I was so damn happy when I found him. We bonded right away, as if we’d never been apart.” His voice softened, but the pain was unmistakable.

“We stayed in touch. Became close. We had so much to catch up on, and it was like I finally had someone who understood me in a way no one else could.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “But then…” He looked back at you, his eyes blazing with anger. “Then Shawn Barnes took him away from me. He killed him. And your husband family covered it all up.”

You flinched at the venom in his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had no idea. You hadn’t known the full story, and now it was staring you in the face.

Ian stepped even closer, invading your space, his eyes searching yours for something—maybe regret, maybe guilt. “They buried it. Buried him. And now you’re standing by their side, supporting the man whose family let my brother’s killer walk free.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You felt frozen, torn between your loyalty to Bucky and the weight of Ian’s grief and anger.

You knew about the cover-up involving Shawn, but who were you to uncover the truth, especially knowing it would be futile to fight against Caroline?

Now, guilt washed over you for having ignored this. It turned out the victim was closer than you had ever realized.

Ian’s voice softened, but the intensity didn’t fade. “Tell me,” he said, his gaze piercing into you. “After all of this… after everything you know… do you still trust him?”

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[northgazaupdates]

EMERGENCY🚨Help a new mother and her baby find food, medical care, and safety

Suad Ahmad is an engineer from Gaza. She graduated from university at the top of her class and was rapidly excelling in her career as an instructor, consultant, and team leader.

Suad, her husband, and their family were overjoyed to find out she was pregnant. Sadly, this was only a week before occupation began its illegal scorched earth campaign against the people of Gaza. Suad's home (left) and workplace (right) were destroyed, and she and her husband's family were displaced from the north.

After building a scaffolding structure for their family in the supposed “safe area” in Rafah (left), the occupation attacked the city and forced their evacuation. Suad and her family were then displaced to Deir al-Balah, where they procured a tent (right). As you can see, these are small, vulnerable structures, completely exposed to the elements. They were exposed to multiple disease vectors while also being unable to procure enough food. During this time, Suad became extremely sick with gastroenteritis, a dangerous condition during pregnancy.

On the day she went into labor, Suad had to walk a great distance to the hospital. Upon arrival, she found that the hospital was operating at bare minimal capacity. There was not even a bed for her to use. Suad’s baby was born with minimal medical support, and the ordeal was extremely difficult. The occupation then began bombing the vicinity of the hospital. Suad and her baby were in immense danger, with nowhere to turn.

Unfortunately, the situation has only gotten worse. Suad and her infant are now living in a tent in extreme heat. IOF attacks continue, putting their lives in immediate danger. The occupation’s blockade on Rafah Crossing and the destruction of roads and infrastructure has led to increased, extreme food scarcity. Suad cannot find enough food to feed herself or her baby. She has not been able to recover from the difficult birth, and her baby is missing out on crucial nutrition needed for neonatal development.

Suad has had a campaign open for several weeks, raising support so that she, her husband, and her husband’s mother and sister could evacuate to Egypt. Sadly, progress has been slow. She was unable to collect the necessary resources to evacuate before the occupation illegally seized Rafah Crossing, the only border crossing that would enable evacuation.

However, international pressure continues to mount on the occupation to depart the crossing. Once they do, Suad and her baby need to be able to evacuate to Egypt for their health and safety. You can help make this possible by directly supporting them at the link below.

Please, help give Suad and her baby a better chance at life. If you cannot give, please reblog this post and repost the link▶️ (https://gofund.me/ebaee2af) across all of your social media accounts.

Verified by @nabulsi

[cazort]

Why I'm Enthusiastic About Kamala Harris

I've seen so much negative talk about Trump and we all agree with that, but I want to highlight what I like most about Kamala Harris and why I'm actively enthusiastic and excited about voting for her:

She is pro-abortion rights and pro- comprehensive sex ed

She would appoint good Supreme Court Justices.

She respects people with a diverse range of political views and would include some voices from both progressive and conservative perspectives in her administration.

She is unambiguously pro-LGBTQ rights, including not just on gay rights but also trans rights.

She would represent continuity with the Biden administration, an administration that I think has done a good job on most issues.

On the issue of Palestine/Israel/Gaza (where I am most critical of Biden), I think Harris is a significant improvement over Biden, and also offers the better path of the only two viable candidates, towards ending the genocide. She has spoken out against the civilian deaths and she has snubbed Netanyahu which is a huge plus in my book.

She has shown a willingness to change her views, such as how she moved from being opposed to decriminalizing sex work in 2008, to being supportive of it in 2019, and being initially skeptical of marijuana legalization in 2010, but coming to support it in 2015. I like a candidate who can change their views, but more importantly, she is changing in a direction I like.

She would be good on the economy; she opposes tariffs, and would continue the Biden administration policies which have led to economic prosperity.

She has a solid and fairly diverse track record of experience, working as attorney general for the largest state, then senator for that state, then VP.

She has worked to combat over-incarceration and cruel treatment of people in prison, doing things like reducing mandatory minimum sentences and working to reduce recidivism, opposing solitary confinement, ending private prisons, and ending cash bail. She has also pledged to use the president's clemency powers to release a lot of people who have been imprisoned unjustly or given unfairly harsh sentences.

She has a concrete plan to enact immigration reform that would adequately fund the processing of asylum applications and fix the backlog of immigrants at the border. And the plan has broad bipartisan support.

On top of this she also has already done some things to address the root causes of migration in Latin America, particularly people fleeing Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador

She is pro-net-neutrality.

She supports universal healthcare, but also has concrete recommendations for how to improve the current status quo.

She is pro-science, including on issues like climate change, COVID, vaccinations, and health and nutrition. Her mom was a scientist!

She is pro-Ukraine, wanting to keep Russia out of Ukraine and ensure Ukraine wins their war of defense and maintains their independence.

She is across-the-board better on women's issues, not just reproductive rights but also sexual violence and domestic violence, workplace equality and the pay gap, and women's issues in Latin America (which is related to the immigration pressure I mentioned above.)

She generally takes stances on foreign policy I agree with, being skeptical of leaders (Putin, Orban, Netanyahu) I want us to be skeptical of, and working with and looking up to the ones I want us to work with and look up to (Olaf Scholz, Emmanuel Macron). She already has a working relationship with many of these leaders too, and has a reputation of being both personable and tough, just what I'd want.

She's smart, well-educated, and surrounded with smart, well-educated, and wise people. Her campaign is stable and well-run, and I trust her to put together a team of competent advisors and run this country competently, probably even more so than Biden has done, and Biden has done a pretty decent job, exceeding my expectations even.

Harris also has an impressive list of endorsements. I can't possibly be comprehensive here, but it includes people as diverse as the most progressive Democrat Lawmakers (Bernie Sanders and AOC), some of the most conservative former GOP legislators (Jeff Flake, Liz Cheney), and over 100 former GOP staffers including a disturbing number of insiders from the Trump administration. This is telling! You don't see this sort of whistleblowing and defection from within the Biden administration.

The fact that Harris has racked up endorsements from people spanning the whole political spectrum from solid-right to solid-left and everything in between, impresses me. This is the sign of someone who is going to be good at getting people to work together, someone who will listen to a wide range of viewpoints and develop better policy and take better courses of action as a result. It's what I always want in a president.

In some elections I have been frustrated that I'm voting for a "lesser of two evils" but this time around I actually feel actively enthusiastic about Harris. I am excited to vote tomorrow and excited to finally be done with this election, and I am cautiously optimistic that it is going to turn out really well.

I encourage everyone to vote and make sure to make sure everyone close to you is also voting!

[enwoso]

Alessia Russo + reporter!gf, where Alessia is nonstop flirting with Reader on national television when you're trying to interview her

LIVE TO ALL — alessia russo

masterlist

you were a sports journalist for itv, travelling up and down the country as well as across the world each week to cover matches as well as try and get some of the players thoughts and opinions on the game.

today was the england lionesses vs sweden at home, at a sold out wembley. the game being tense but the girls pulling out a win by one goal and of course it being scored by non other than the alessia russo who just happened to be on your radar to interview.

normally it would take some convincing from some players to get them to do a quick post match interview, most players after a win wanting to celebrate and after a loss was when it was even harder to get players to interview as they just generally weren’t in the mood, understandably.

however luckily you wouldn’t have to do much convincing to get england’s star girl for an interview as she just so happened to also be your girlfriend. so one little bat of the eyelashes and a flash of the smile and the blonde would be right over.

so as your team handed her a mic as she walked over from the pitch hugging you tight as you sent her a loving smile trying your best to remain professional but the girl just looked so gorgeous even after running around a pitch for ninety minutes, her hair slicked back a few flyaways had came loose above her as well as her cheeks being slightly flushed pink probably from the amount of running she’d done.

“so alessia another sold out wembley for the lionesses, does the feeling ever change walking out and seeing that many people in the stadium?” you began the interview as alessia nodded along with what you were saying, her bottom lip inbetween her teeth as you watched as her eyes roamed your face as she held her eye contact with you instead of the camera like she was supposed to.

there was a slight pause between your question and the blonde starting her answer, “oh um it definitely helps to keep us motivated whilst we are playing- as we love seeing our fans pack out stadiums and creating as much noise as possible!”

“speaking of motivation, what helps to keep you fired up especially when your playing top teams like sweden?” you asked as you seen alessia giggle to herself, you being thankful for the fact that the camera can’t see the look your throwing alessia right now.

“well away from football there’s definitely someone who does that for me-” the blonde making direct eye contact with you as a smirk crept onto her face. you knew exactly what she was insinuating on and while the your relationship wasn’t exactly out there it wasn’t a big secret either fans definitely had their suspicions and alessia right now was definitely adding fuel to that fire.

she carried on, you sending the blonde another stern look that told her to behave, “but the staff at england as well as the girls we all do our part to ensure that’s we can all play to the best of our ability to ensure we get the result that we want as a team and as a nation” she smiled innocently as she finished awaiting your next question.

you began to explain the importance of the goal that alessia scored to start off the lionesses euro qualifying campaign while alessia well she was just staring at you, totally zoned out as she licked her lips. her eyes scanning your outfit as she imagined maybe what it would look like on the floor of your shared bedroom…

“and finally how does it feel to finally get your first goal at wembley especially the one that sealed the win for you guys” you finished with a quick smile, slightly kicking the blonde which wasn’t able to be seen by the camera which shook the blonde from her daydream.

“oh- um, wait i- sorry what was the question?” alessia flushed red with embarrassment as you were the one now with a smirk, knowing by her face she hadn’t been listening and also having a suspicion of why she hadn’t been but nevertheless repeating the question again for her.

“yeah, it’s always a good feeling to score at wembley makes it that little bit special but anything to help the team out”

“well thank you alessia and well done for tonight!” you applauded with a smile as alessia nodded, “thank you babe” alessia said so causally, you quickly spinning around mouth wide open as you eyes widened.

the interview already been finished as your team off-mic’d you both. alessia with a smirk which was widening on her face, you knew she had done that on purpose.

“i love you?” she whispered, as she looked at your less than pleased look on your face.

“your on thin ice miss russo!” you warned narrowing your eyes at the blonde as she slung her arm around your shoulders guiding you both down the tunnel as you knew she was rolling her eyes at your stern tone.

“hey! it’s not my fault the person who was interviewing me happened to be my really sexy, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend!”