#I cannot miss another carlos win

[sunny-sainz]

it’s just free practice. it’s just free practice. it’s just free practice. it’s just free practice. it’s just free practice…

[heartysworld]

Lovely coincidences // L. Norris x Fem. Reader

A/N: There was no way I was gonna miss the opportunity and post something about today's events, which, by the way, made me jump out of bed with a gasp at 8am.

W.c: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

You sit cross-legged on the couch, your phone in one hand and Lando’s head resting in your lap. His curls tickle your fingers as you absentmindedly play with his hair, scrolling through Instagram. Your draft post stares back at you, nerves fluttering in your stomach. The picture is perfect—Lando’s hand protectively resting on your bump, your fingers intertwined, both of you glowing in the soft light of the sunset.

You've been trying to do this all week but always ended up backing out right before you hit the "post" button. Every time it fel as if you were about to expose the most private part of your private life to the public. However, at some point you came to the realization that it's better to do it yourself before a media outlet ratted your secret out first.

The caption reads:

"Plot twist of the year: Lando and Y/N +1 coming soon 🍼❤️."

“Do you think it’s too cheesy?” you ask, looking down at him.

“Cheesy?” Lando scoffs, twisting so he can meet your gaze. “Y/N, the fans love cheesy. And let’s be real—this is huge. They’re going to lose their minds.”

“They already think you’re the chaos driver,” you tease. “Now they’ll think we’re bringing another tornado into the world.”

“Exactly!” Lando sits up, grabbing his phone with a grin. “It’s perfect. Our little chaos baby.” He pauses, looking serious for a moment. “Are you ready, though? This makes it real, you know?”

His sincerity warms you, and you nod. “I’m ready.”

“Alright then,” he says, holding up his phone like he’s at the starting grid. “On three. One… two… three—post!”

The moment you hit post, your phone buzzes like a swarm of bees. Likes, comments, and DMs flood in at a dizzying pace. Lando’s laugh fills the room as he scrolls through the comments.

“Look at this,” he says, showing you Carlos’ reply: “Mini Lando incoming? Poor Y/N. The grid’s not ready for this!”

“Carlos has a point,” you quip, nudging him.

Before you can reply to anyone, Lando’s phone buzzes again. He freezes, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he reads the notification.

“No way,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What?”

“It’s Max.” He turns his phone toward you.

You squint at the screen. Sure enough, there it is—Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet’s baby announcement, posted mere minutes after yours. The picture shows Max and Kelly in a cozy living room, her bump visible under her flowy dress, and the caption:

"Baby Verstappen loading… can’t wait to meet you, little one ❤️."

Your jaw drops. “You’re kidding me.”

Lando’s already dialing Max. The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his calm voice a stark contrast to Lando’s giddy disbelief.

“What’s up, Norris?”

“What’s up?” Lando exclaims. “What’s up is that you just stole our baby thunder!”

There’s a beat of silence, then you hear Kelly laughing in the background. “Oh no,” she says through her giggles. “Did we steal their thunder?”

“Steal our thunder? You drove right through it!”, Lando replies, though his grin betrays his faux outrage.

“Not my fault you have bad timing,” Max says dryly.

Lando groans. “I cannot believe this. First you steal first place on teack, and now you’re trying to win the baby race?!”

“First place is first place,” Max says smugly.

The banter continues until you grab the phone from Lando, laughing. “Alright, thays enough. Max, congratulations to you and Kelly. But I think we all know who the real winner is.”

“Who?” Max asks.

“Me,” you reply, smirking. “Because I have to deal with Lando’s reaction to this for the next nine months.”

The delivery room is a whirlwind of emotions, but through it all, Lando is by your side, holding your hand, cracking jokes, and whispering words of encouragement. When the nurse finally hands you your baby—a tiny, wriggling bundle swaddled in white—you’re overwhelmed with love.

“She's perfect,” Lando whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Absolutely perfect.”

Later that night, Lando posts the first photo of Baby Love Norris: a close-up of their tiny hand clutching his finger. The caption reads:

"Our greatest Love. Welcome to the world, little lady ❤️."

Two days later, your phone buzzes with a notification. You open Instagram to see another post from Max. It’s almost identical—a photo of his baby’s hand holding his finger, with the caption:

"Our little Love has arrived. We’re so in love ❤️."

Your eyes widen. “Lando!”

He rushes into the room, disheveled but alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Max and Kelly named their baby Love.”

Lando stares at you for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “You’re joking.”

“Look!” You show him the post, and his laughter grows louder.

“Of course they did,” he says, shaking his head. “I swear, Max is doing this on purpose.”

By the next race, the entire paddock is buzzing about the two Baby Loves.

“You sure they're not twins?” Oscar asks one morning, his grin as wide as ever.

“Must be something in the water,” Charles adds with a smirk.

Max and Lando handle the teasing with their usual banter.

“They’re basically the same kid,” Lando says during a press conference, leaning back in his chair.

Max nods. “Mine’s faster, though.”

“Oh, please,” Lando shoots back. “Mine’s already smiling. Yours just cries.”

“They’re newborns, Lando. What do you expect?”

One afternoon in the paddock lounge, Max walks in carrying Baby Love Verstappen, who’s swaddled in a pastel yellow blanket. Lando immediately perks up.

“Look who finally showed up!” Lando says, grinning as he leans over to get a look at the baby.

“She’s beautiful,” you say, smiling warmly.

“Of course she is,” Max replies smugly. “She’s a Verstappen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando mutters. “But I bet she’s not as cute as our Love.”

“Are you seriously competing over babies?” you ask, rolling your eyes.

“They compete over everything,” Kelly says, sitting beside you. “It’s like having two toddlers already.”

By the end of the weekend, people start reposting a meme of the two baby Loves photoshopped into tiny F1 cars, complete with helmets and matching “Love” liveries. Both Lando and Max share it, each captioning it:

"Team Love: P1 and P2 ❤️."

Life is hectic, chaotic, and overwhelming, but as you watch Lando cradle your baby, his face lit with pure joy, you know it’s exactly how it’s meant to be.

MASTERLIST

[madlyn5ever]

Okay but theoretically if HSMTMTS season 4 is set around fall 2020 then does that mean that Ashlyn and Maddox are now college/ out of HS gfs?

Like Imagine Maddox is still working as a P.A. For Quinn and Ashlyn is studying acting at whatever the big Salt Lake college is and they have a dog and EJ is now working as a T.A. for Miss Jenn or another teacher at East High and Emmy’s in senior year now so she’s still doing musicals with Miss Jenn.

Ricky and Gina are obviously headliners for Quinn’s projects because after Mack left who else was gonna play Romeo? But Quinn likes their chemistry. Ricky still claims to have never seen a musical despite now having been in three.

And seb and Carlos are now making long distance work, off and on, because Carlos got sort of Scouted for his choreo skills and went from helping smaller theatre companies with their choreo to working with Broadway shows, so sometimes when Carlos is really busy with a project Seb will travel back to salt lake to help with his families farm and visit.

(I didn’t give Seb a Job because I can’t think of what he’d do. He’s just too like “sweet boy oblivious” and I don’t know what to do with him. But he has a good time for sure.)

Kourtney and Jet are planning to move in together after Kourtney graduates from Louis (Lewis?), but until then they do weekend visits when they can, sometimes to Lewis , sometimes to salt lake, and Jet perpetually follows Maddox and Ashlyn around bc he doesn’t know what to do with himself without Kourtney. They pretend to be annoyed but they secretly find it hilarious and endearing.

Big Red and Antoine got together officially after Big Red gets him to admit he’s not French to the rest of the Drama Dept. and that he’s sorry for causing trouble. Big red and Carlos also become friends again in the same way they were before after Seb and Carlos get back together, and it has a lot to do with how fond he actually is of Big Red bc he knows he’s not a bad guy. (I need this to be more than a HC because I still cannot believe they ruined his and sebs characters like that for the drama.)

During the Summers Maddox works at Shallow Lake as a full fledged counselor alongside Dewey wood because she just loves camp so much and she’s still Dewey’s favorite camper. Val helps when she can but she’s got a full job as a psychologist and doesn’t have the same flexibility as Maddox does with Quinn. EJ is a counselor too bc he gets time off in the summers being a teachers assistant and all. He spends his summers following Maddox around when he gets free time and missing Val when she’s not there. Maddox gets having feelings for Val but if she hears “Val used to call me EJ” one more time-

EJ and Val are still going strong and EJ is making plans to propose to her once his teaching Job is finally sorted out and he isn’t just a trainee anymore. (This is just cause EJ needs a win.)

(Also, when Maddox is away at camp, Jet and Ashlyn hang out. They usually do movie nights which consist of Ashlyn sharing her favorites, and Jet sharing his. Jet really likes Spider-Man, Night At The Museum, and Fantastic Mr. Fox. Ashlyn likes Grease, anything with Bette Midler in it, and the Spiderwick movies.) (they also watch baking shows together and yell at the screen when the contestants mess up their bakes when times running out)

Miss Jenn and Mr.Mazzara are the IT teacher couple at East High. This goes on for a about a year before Principle Gutierrez says that they either need to be married or someone has to quit bc it’s not in accordance with the schools policy. They have a small gathering that ends with Karaoke at the bowling alley. All of the Drama kids attend, and they finally meet Miss Jenns mother from all of her increasingly concerning stories.

Ricky’s mom and dad get back together, and they squash the divorce stuff. They are now happier than ever. (Ricky also might need a win idk)

Nini has a thriving music career. She’s just as successful as Olivia is irl.

Oh! And Natalie Bagley is ruling the world or something. That feels like something she would do. Maybe she’s president.

[f0point5]

Doing this completely anon cause I'm genuinely scared of the backlash that may occur - This is controversial and also contradictory so im willing to be shat on for this hot take.

Charles cannot seriously be hoping to win races and be a world champion. I've got no proof just my own absurd theories but I seriously cannot see him becoming a wc. Lando is the same. They both are so alike. One bad race or bad moment and they shit on themselves and lose control and take a week to bounce back from it. I as much as I have love for them and am starting to think they genuinely believe they will win a dc. Oscar and Carlos are the only ones who could on either team as it currently stands. Unlike merc where George could in the team even tho he is lewis' teamate he actually could. But Charles and lando can't unless they change their mindset and team. And tbh to some extent I see both Charles and lando not nearly serious enough about f1 at the moment. And I know 'social media is fake and only shows so much blah blah blah we dont know them personally' but if they gave a fuck they'd risk the money and try and get into redbull. They'd risk thier paychecks and get the money invested into the team. And again I know I don't know what is happening behind the scenes and I'm whatever for saying this but Charles won't win a dc and neither will lando. Max is by far the most authentic, marketable, talented and most relatable driver and I'm a lewis girl (well more lance than lewis but just showing my bias that typically happens with lewis fans).

- Charles isn't dedicated (I believe)

- lando isn't either

- neither will win a wdc

- this celebrity branding thats going on is fucking ridiculous, lewis and max (although he's not nearly as willing to want the title) are the only ones who truly deserve it

- Daniel while yes is charismatic isn't all that talented anymore and would do better in another series. (I included Daniel cause I thought of the celeb status and him)

- and also drivers can only be so relatable and likeable as long as they stay grounded and don't seem so big for their boots and tbh again as a lewis fan (initally) I'm just not really caring for him and the va va voom of him anymore (that was wierd admitting) and when Charles is getting more 'celeb-like' he becomes more unlikable same with lando...

This was long and I apologise 😭🫶🏻

WOAH. Okay we about to get trashed for this but ya know what, idc, I partially agree with you.

I don’t think Charles, or Lando, will ever win a WDC. I think of the two of them Charles is the one with the real shot, because I think he has a much stronger mentality than Lando. I don’t think the pressure gets to him for pressure’s sake the way it does with Lando. I think where Charles knows he doesn’t have the equipment he gets desperate, and mistakes happen. Whereas Lando just can’t seem to hold it together over a weekend, and I think a lot of what affects Lando happens outside the car, which is why he would crumble in a title fight. That said, I think time will run out for Charles, George, Carlos, Lando, etc. Those teams won’t catch up to Red Bull before ‘26 and by then Oscar, and whoever else has come in from the next generation will be younger and hungrier, and the next cycle will start. For me, they will miss their window. I won’t say for sure but that’s my feeling, and if by the end of next season the Ferrari team is not operating like Red Bull (meaning they have a clear #1 driver, and their strategy and pit stops are where they need to be) it will be clear that not even Fred can change the tide and they are an unserious team where Charles will waste his talent.

I disagree that it would be a smart idea to get into Red Bull. Tbh I don’t think Red Bull would want Charles, but that’s another issue. That team is Max’s and it will be until he leaves (or suddenly can’t drive a car anymore but that won’t happen). As a driver, you have to think you’re the best driver, but I don’t think either Charles or Lando is delulu enough to think that they could beat Max in Max’s Red Bull (and this is not me saying they build the car for Max, I’m saying that when Newey hands you a car and Max is saying “make it faster” and everything you do to the car to make it driveable only makes it slower…you are fighting a losing battle). Red Bull would not only be a waste of time for them, but yes, probably a big financial loss, because they both benefit from marketing themselves as #1 drivers at the moment.

I have to say, I agree that it doesn’t seem to me that Charles is as committed to being WDC as he could be. Disclaimer - this is purely based off vibes, I don’t know the guy. I’m not saying he’s not doing his job, he absolutely is, but the self promotion levels, at a time when the results are not resulting…signals to me he’s branching out. I talked a lot last season about how I think he’s transitioning out of the “Il Predestinato” image, and how I felt part of that is because it is becoming less likely that he will win a WDC. I think it’s clever of him to think about doing other things though, because so much of what it takes to get a dc is out of his control, and he doesn’t even have the bare bones of a team or a car that will let him challenge for a title. There is no point in him waiting around for Ferrari to get it together, if they get it together he can revisit but right now…I think it’s in his best interest to get his bag.

I don’t think there’s many similarities between Charles and Lando’s path here, Lando is a wholeeee other essay 😂

But I disagree that the branding is ridiculous, I think it’s a logical thing to do. Yes these guys make good money from their teams but that won’t last forever, they have pretty short careers. It’s good for them to use their platform to build income streams for themselves that will go beyond their F1 career. Charles previously hadn’t been able to do that and now he is, which is definitely a positive. I will give Max and his team props here because I think he’s sneakily got the best alternative income streams of anyone. Verstappen.com must absolutely be raking it in with those grandstand deals, the merch is consistent, his brand deals are minimal but they’re big and they stick with him. My point is, drivers do need alternative income streams, especially when their brand can’t just be “I win”.

Lewis a master at this, I will admit, I just don’t like his brand. But it is consistent and he has managed to transcend F1 as his own brand which will keep him comfortable for the rest of his life, so good for him. I don’t buy into the brand but the brand is branding, I have to recognise.

I don’t really get Charles’s brand identity yet lol so I can’t tell if how likeable it will be. I mean, currently he is very liked, it’s possible it will stay that way. I really couldn’t say. I think Lando is about to have an unlikeable season but I also think his “babygirl brat” thing is pretty amusing and won’t ultimately alienate his fan base.

It was long but it was fun. The villagers will come for us with pitchforks for this opinion though.

[iamred-iamyellow]

ok this is very random (as im not sure how much of an ls2 defender u r)

BUT

every new thing that James bitchass stanky dummy shitty Vowles says abt the Logan situation just pisses me off more. makes me even wonder how logan dealt w everything for as long as he did.

Swear if Logan wasnt backed by Duracell and all the other US companies that bring in sm bank, Vowles would have dropped him even without meeting Franco...

Logan might have underperformed but his car isnt good to begin with, strategy was practically a DIY youtube video every fucking race weekend and not to mention that out of what 10-12 races his teammate has only managed to score 6 points...(no saying Albon is bad at all just goes to show that even a decent driver cant do shit in that fucking half charged golf cart 😒)

As a CS55 girlie im praying for the best for Carlos and that the team figures itself out over the new year break bc the way things r going i wouldnt be fucking suprised if Carlos opted to race for another team or just become a reserve driver after one year w bitchass Williams.

Truly a shame that a driver with such potential (LS2) and an excellent teammate and great driver with consistency (CS55) have ever had to deal with James stanky Vowles ( even tho Vowles is a D1 national level Sainz glazer 😭😭)

UGHHHHH i just know next year is gonna b...interesting to say the least.

Praying for Franco too 🥺💯 I've really come to like him so far after Monza and think he has great things in store and can rlly prove himself too 😞🩷

How it feels being BOTH a LS2 and CS55 gal btw;

as an american i think im obligated by law to be a ls2 defender 🫡🦅🇺🇸

“strategy was practically a DIY youtube video every fucking race” TRUTH!!! 

i will forever be a defender of our four williams babies alex carlos franco and logan because they were dealt some fuckass cards 

i just cannot believe that logan didn’t have enough time to develop in f2 and williams didn’t even TRY to give him more opportunities to train during his f1 seasons. they literally tossed him in a car and said GO they set him up to fail and then got mad that he didn’t exceed their expectations 

don’t even get me STARTED on the comments james made about mick i am PERSONALLY offended omg 

i’m really gonna miss franco at the end of the season but i hope he gets more opportunities from what he’s proven he can do in f1

and speaking of carlos his journey is just one that ends up being really sad for me. he jumps from team to team and proves himself EVERY TIME but he has the worst luck when it comes to it. he was teammates with max first and therefore the second fiddle because christian was set on max being his everything. then he moved to renault which was uhm renault. then mclaren where he could’ve technically been seen as first driver or equals with Lando but Lando to Mclaren is Max to RB. He got a win at mclaren and just brought out the absolute best vibes for the team. Then he moved to ferrari but it was too late bc again Charles to Ferrari is Max to Red Bull. He always ends up second to a teams golden boy and as much as i love all those drivers it really sucks that Carlos does so much and will never truly get the recognition he deserves.

[rafasbiscuits]

I'm curious if anyone else feels sad at the rise of Carlos Alcaraz...part of me wants to root for him. More than his brilliance, he seems like a really nice guy. BUT...I don't want Rafa's supreme legacy challenged in any way, shape, or form. I selfishly want Rafa to always be Spain's biggest icon and for his tennis records to be untouched. So I find myself rooting against Alcaraz. Plus, I just miss Rafa...

omg I def understand u anon!! (And u are def not the only one)

Now don't get me wrong, I love Carlitos, he is a great kid and ik he has a big future ahead of him, but I have this feeling of bitter against him, I am a Rafa fan first and foremost, more than anything else. And ik this might sound toxic but I just can't shake this feeling off.

See, Carlitos is just like us, he looks up to Rafa as well. But I'm scared of what might happen if the young Spaniard surpasses Rafa's brilliance. I want Rafa to be legendary forever, to be looked up as the Spanish Legend, King Of Clay forever. Only him. I wonder sometimes is this what the Sampras-Agassi fans felt when Roger appeared and beat Pete? I don't know but damn it doesn't feel great.

As much as I want Carlitos to be the future of tennis, a big part of me just wants Rafa to stay forever, and a part of me that I hate just don't want that (Carlitos as the future) to happen, I want Rafa's legacy to be only his. Untouched. I want him to be the Spanish tennis king forever. ik it's impossible but I can't help it. It's selfish, yes, but I want the future tennis fans to search up Google and when they search up "Greatest Spanish Tennis Player Of All Time" only Rafael Nadal is there. The only single answer.

Even Rafa likes him, why should I, as a mere fan feel this way? But you see, just because we are fans doesn't mean we shouldn't feel what we want to. I know that fans wants to respect their idols/celebs/athletes alot but we shouldn't ignore our own feelings. So it's okay to feel this way, it's selfish, but aren't we all?

I always wish and hope that Rafael Vs Carlos will never ever happen. It did already but I don't want to experience it anymore. What if Carlitos beats Rafa? I don't think I can deal with that, people will start to adore Carlitos more and declare Rafa as "finished" I can't deal with that, I seriously can't. I will pretend to be happy for Carlitos but ik deep down that I will always want Rafa to win. Even though the man I want to win will be so very happy for the boy I want to see lose. I can't help but feel so bad. But I just cannot help it.

And I beat myself up cause Carlitos is such a great kid. But I will be honest sometimes that I didn't want him to win some matches, I didn't want him to be number 1. At the time. See, my motto is fake it till you make it.

Every era comes to an end, and another era will bloom and continue. Maybe the future era will surpass the past's greatness, but all we can do right now is just focus on the present, support the athletes we want to support and love because we will never know when their retirement will come. Like how the Federer fans already lost their fav tennis player, maybe they stopped watching tennis, or maybe they found another younger player to support. It's just how life works.

Your feelings towards this is valid, definitely, and you aren't the only one. trust me.

(and I miss Rafa too, but he'll be playing in Monte Carlo so yay!!)

[hertwood]

dts s5 e3-5

e3: -"i am perfect 🥰" fuck u know what sometimes the charles leclerc charm does get to me ngl -"breaking america is very important" OH IS IT. let andretti join then -i'll say it. miami isn't that bad. you can critisize the consumerism of it all without being so anti-america yall -fuck caitlyn jenner but her gushing to christian horner abt how great it is that ferrari is winning is iconic -i did watch this season but i did after the fact /knowing/ max was gonna win in the end. its sorta hitting me how it did really look like, oh my god, charles could really win here. just lookin at his lil face thinking how much did he get his hopes up. how much did i hurt, watching it slip away. how do u even handle that emotionally -i know i've talked abt this before but when i was binging the 2022 season i got super drunk before/while watching miami and when i woke up in the morning i remembered basically nothing other than carlos taking his shirt off (priorities). i watched the race highlights sober and was surprised by the lando crash. lol -if anything this rewatch is putting me back in my max girlie era. chomp chomp chomp. and/or i'm ovulating. combination of both -cannot wait for padel game 2023 edition on dts. it will be superior i know it -i do think its wierd that theyre framing (trying to) prioritize charles as a mean thing to do when its exactly what merc did in 2021 for lewis and it was 100% necessary both times. the guy who said 'ferrari won with the wrong car' wasnt wrong thats just how this shit works!!! -idk why dts couldn't just explain that max has non terminal but non fixable damage and thats why he was so damn slow. i feel like it wouldve been so easy to just mention. give context to why he couldnt get back up there -i dont think having multiple episodes focus on the same race from different perspectives is the worst thing ever, but i do think they fucked it up here by having the silverstone episodes back 2 back 2 back...... at least mix it up a lil. put another episode inbetween so we've forgotten by the time its being rehashed is it rly that hard

e4: -"i would've fucked the whole paddock" you know what maybe gunther IS iconic. maybe i will miss him a lil -i'm not a mick girlie but he is such a sweet boy. gunther count ur days :) -being reminded that michael and jos were teammates is such a jumpscare. how did that happen -"its not about proving them wrong, its about proving yourself right." HES SUCH A SMART N WISE LIL BOY. MWAH MWAH MWAH -that was a legitimately terrifying high speed crash. like a crash is a crash but the way that car got torn up is insane -STAY AWAY FROM OLLIE BEARMAN BTW -kevin supporting mick is So Important like an older sibling trying to break the cycle w/ a shitty parent. kevin i love u -ALSO underrated ship. btw -respectfully. as someone who knows nothing abt cars. if the haas keeps having problems splitting in half during crashes mayb. its a car issue. just a thought -faldskjfalksjf but this monaco crash: thinkin abt during the race, kevin had a mechanical dnf nearly the same time, so when the camera cut from mick's smashed car to kevin standing on the side of the track, looking disappointed, there was legitimate confusion on who fucking crashed. anyway that goes to show MAYBE THE CAR IS JUST SHIT -sebmick. is indeed. important -i love the way mick thinks his name is only a blessing. i just love seeing other people be brutally positive in the face of adversity bc its what i aspire to try to do too. its a good mindset to have i hope he is doin well now <3 -small children humbling tf out of christian horner is so important actually -i'm so glad daniel knew what he was worth with haas. i'm so glad they couldn't damn afford him. as he should 💅 -mick & max ALSO underrated ship. this man is so shippable -i am glad max n mick got to have this lil battle tho. they got to have what their dads predicted finally :)

e5: -ok so this is actually the most recent dts episode ive seen since before i started the rewatch, right after otmar got fired i watched it as a fun lil victory lap. this'll be fun lets goooooooo -otmar as a man is such a walking ick. even if i dislike other TPs at least they dont give me the ick. thats the second most unforgivable crime otmar has committed -i'm sorry the way otmar left AM bc he didnt like lawrence as a boss only to sign up to work for LAURENT ROSSI????? u have to laugh -i've said it before and i'll say it again nando n estie were fucking raw 100% -even if mclaren continued to be shit and alpine didn't implode oscar still made the right choice bc CLEARLY otmar was keen on keeping the nandoestie lineup for as long as fucking possible. and then he gets mad when oscar realizes that and bails??? i hate this man sm -'je m'appelle yuki. merci' iconic dts quote. yall if dts didnt exist we wouldnt have this be grateful -ok. so i know when this season came out this whole dando in the parking garage bit got some heat bc apparently that was not at paul ricard like the episode implies. but honestly. listen. netflix got a fun lil moment with daniel and lando. they didnt have anywhere else to put it. was there really any harm with having it squeezed in there. its not like ppl thinking theres a parking garage at paul ricard is super damaging misinformation. pls find real solid criticisms of dts instead of this kinda bitchin and moanin THANK U -HI SEBCHAL CRUMBS -ok um. not 2 tinhat here but i know dts got some heat for not having enough women in this season. did they go back and add these bits with jennie gow after she recovered from her stroke i dont remember her being here. its fine i just dont particularly like how netflix can go back n change shit -i hate birthdays i get so much second hand cringe from this. if i never get sung happy birthday again ever in my life that would be ideal -how many times has nando left and gone back to renault/alpine? god its like a girl who wont stop getting back together with a cheating bf and then being surprised when he cheats again oh fernando left ur team WATER IS WET BABES -ok what i'm getting is otmar is bad at getting contracts finalized in a timely manner and maybe this is his damn fault :) -'lets show him he made the wrong choice' you have to laugh ladjfaklsjdfaljd

[the-real-tc]

Review: Heartland Season 15 Finale: Leaving a Legacy

I'll keep this (relatively) short and sweet.

I loved the finale. I cannot believe Season 15 has sped by so quickly, so thanks are once again in order to the entire cast and crew who stuck out some incredibly grueling conditions to make it happen. Your efforts are fully appreciated.

First things: I am so pleased I was right about how Amy would use her "windfall". Naming the Centre after Ty was really the only logical thing to do. Now kids like him will get another shot at a future, just like he did at Heartland. I made comparisons years ago between Heartland and another old Canadian TV series "Neon Rider", but I think enough time has passed since that show was on the air to keep up that comparison, and the Dr. Ty Borden Equestrian Therapy Centre is bound to be its own unique thing.

On a related note: the character of Logan has been a revelation this season. Drew Davis is extremely charming in the role, and I like the ultimatum Clint gave him, which bodes well for the character to return for potential future seasons.

Secondly: I've always been "Team Peter", so it was great hearing Lou say the things she said about their relationship, and it was great hearing Katie's heartfelt words about how her camping trip with her mother went down. (Baye McPherson is rocking the role as Katie 4.0!) It seems all Lou needed was someone like Rick in her life to call her out on her B.S. and force her to confront her true feelings. (Rick's facial expression when he left Lou's office to make Lou and PW finally hash it out... LOL, Aidan, you campy idiot! 🤣)

Third: I wish there had been more time in this short 10-episode season for a good lead-up to the Platinum Bow storyline. I would have liked to have felt more anxiety for the horse's race. Winning the Kentucky Derby is no small feat, but it sort of felt like any other race he might have won. But Yay, Lisa, and Yay, Fairfield Stables, and Yay, Carlos, jockey-in-the-waiting. (I imagine the photo they teased earlier of Jack and Lisa toasting each other at Heartland was a post-Derby celebration. Alas, another cutting room floor scene for JISA fans to lament... le sigh.)

Fourth: Jess has been avoiding phone calls since coming back from selling her condo in NYC, and Tim is suspicious, especially after he picks up her phone and it's a doctor calling... It's almost a replay of when Lisa had a health scare a few seasons ago. Thankfully, Jess is clear, just as Lisa was, so disaster averted.

All through Season 15, I've been wondering about the very curious choices in how the moon phases were depicted. It's like it was always a full moon, regardless of the time of the month. Now I get it: the moon is a reference to Lyndy's moon drawing, and her line that it's her Dada—Ty. The moon hanging over Heartland is symbolic of Ty's presence hovering over his loved ones, which was felt very strongly this episode with Amy's discovery of his final anniversary present. Someone started chopping a bunch of onions in my room when Amy read Ty's card, so I'm sure I missed a few important words, but it was great that Graham Wardle was able to provide some voiceover work for that scene.

Okay, I lied about keeping this short, but it's shorter than my usual treatises.

Overall, I've loved Season 15 and the "maturity" level of the stories. There were some serious issues, and I feel like several characters were *finally* given permission to say things and do things they were previously unable to do and say, either out of plot contrivance or sloppy writing.

I certainly hope we get a 16th season, because I have to admit I have long lived with the thought Heartland would call it quits at 15, if it was ever granted that long a life. There are still lots of stories to tell, because Heartland is about life, and life goes on. Life goes on even when loved ones leave or pass away. We might not like change, but change is what makes life interesting.

So thanks once again to everyone involved with bringing this show to our screens, and blessings to Jessica Steen, aka Lisa Stillman, who celebrates her 56th birthday today (Dec. 19).

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 17: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team)

for both my incredible birthday twin jenny (@laelipoo) and a little bit for myself! i hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day and i wish you all the love in the world. i'm so glad we became friends and i cannot tell you how glad i am for our conversations 🥰🥰🥰

many, many, many thanks to jenny as well for helping me out with the plot!

ao3 | 3.1k | firefighter carlos, hurt/comfort, pining, developing relationship, major character injury (two of them 😌)

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the soft blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

The thing about Carlos Reyes is that he isn’t only stupidly hot; he’s also just plain nice. TK can’t even make up a flimsy excuse to keep his distance. Carlos is, quite literally, perfect.

He shares recipes and book recommendations with Paul, he spars with Marjan, he discusses superheroes with Mateo, and Judd has had nothing but good things to say since before Carlos even joined them. Apparently they’d worked together a lot before the explosion, when Carlos was with the 116, and he’s ‘one of the best damn firefighters’ Judd has ever seen.

He even makes time to hang with the paramedics, which...isn’t a new development, exactly. But it is recent, and TK is willing to bet they’d still be pretty divided if Tim hadn’t suddenly transferred back to Maryland and he hadn’t taken the leap to be a full paramedic.

Even after that… His friends were hardly going to abandon him after he switched, but Nancy had still only been semi-included at best. She’d called him out about it during their first week working together, but fixing it had been a slow process.

Until Carlos came along, that is. Excluding Judd, they all regularly hang out at his place now, and Nancy’s inclusion had never even been a question. Safe to say, Carlos has charmed everyone in the firehouse, including both captains, and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it.

He’s perfect, from his freakishly toned body to his infuriatingly sweet personality to his incredible skills in the field, and TK does not have a crush, goddammit!

One morning about three weeks after Carlos’s arrival, TK is greeted in the firehouse by the sound of a long, beautiful laugh coming from the kitchen. Three weeks is an embarrassingly short amount of time to admit that he’s memorised everything about him, but he instantly recognises the noise as coming from Carlos, even if he can’t see him yet.

He saunters into the kitchen, where Carlos is standing with Paul, and leans up against the counter. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Carlos turns with a winning smile and holds out a steaming mug of coffee, clearly freshly made even though TK only got in two minutes ago.

He blinks. “How—” Then, taking in the slight pinkness to Carlos’s cheeks, “Are you seriously offering me your own coffee, Reyes?”

Carlos shrugs, forcing the mug into TK’s hands. “I only just made it so technically it belongs to anyone, and I can always make another,” he says. “Besides, you look like you could use it more than me.”

His grin has TK narrowing his eyes and stubbornly refusing to drink even though Carlos is right—he really, really needs it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an insult.”

“Who says you do know better?”

TK splutters, momentarily left speechless in the face of Carlos’s smile and the twinkle in those goddamn eyes. He turns to Paul for help, but Paul...has disappeared. Huh. TK honestly hadn't noticed him go.

He shakes his head and looks back to Carlos, only to be stunned silent again by the way his smile has softened into something else, something more.

TK’s heart skips a beat or two and he swallows, staring down into Carlos’s coffee. “Whatever, Reyes,” he mutters.

It was too late for a witty comeback anyway.

Carlos’s laugh follows him out of the kitchen, and TK wonders when, exactly, he let himself fall this far.

*

“Earth to TK? Hello?”

TK is rudely snapped back to reality by one Nancy Gillian’s hand waving violently in his face. He scowls at her, to which she responds with an eye roll.

“Stop drooling over your man and come help me with inventory.”

“I’m not drooling,” TK argues, following her over to the rig. “And he’s not my man.”

“Right,” Nancy drawls, folding her arms over her chest as she leans against the ambulance. “So you’re just going to deny that weird energy around you two that makes the rest of us feel like we’re creeping on something?”

“Exactly.” TK nods emphatically, then frowns. “Wait, what?”

Nancy casts her eyes heavenward. “You know,” she says, “you’re a lot of things, Strand, but I hadn’t pegged you for oblivious.”

TK’s next words are reflexive, said without thought for the consequences—the story of his life, really.

“I’m not oblivious!”

The grin spreading over Nancy’s face rams home just how much he’s fucked up with those three words. TK drops his head in his hands and groans, unable and unwilling to look Nancy in the eye.

“Not a word,” he warns, which Nancy appears to respect, for now. TK is well aware that there will be words—several of them—later, whether he wants them or not.

The thing is, he really isn’t oblivious. He knows perfectly well what Nancy is talking about and he has often fantasised about all the things he’d do to Carlos given half a chance. TK likes Carlos, way more than just in the physical sense, and he’s pretty sure that Carlos likes him right back. It would be so easy to start something between them and, god, TK wants to. He just… He can’t.

One year—that’s what he promised himself back in New York. One year on his own to sort his head out and figure out how he fits back into the world after the overdose. Granted, his sobriety anniversary is only a couple of months away now, but he refuses to give up on his promise, especially when he’s so close.

Maybe in a couple months, if Carlos hasn’t gotten bored of something that’s clearly going nowhere.

But not now.

*

“He did not ask me out!”

“He totally did, dude, and you know it. You want to say yes, I can tell.”

“No, I don’t. I—”

“Children,” Tommy interrupts from the back of the ambulance. They’re heading to a callout, and Nancy has not let up the entire way about something TK is certain never actually happened. “Either of you want to enlighten me on what the argument is about this time?”

“TK’s too chicken to go out with Carlos,” Nancy jumps in, before TK can stop her.

“I am not!” he protests. “Plus, he wasn’t asking me out, he said we should go over to his place for dinner sometime, which Carlos does all the time. So there.”

“Strand, you are not this dense,” Nancy snarks, probably rolling her eyes. “His exact words were, ‘You should come over sometime’.”

“We were all there! It was obviously the plural you.”

“Oh my god—”

“Alright!” Tommy sighs wearily. “Nancy, can we keep from provoking TK until we’re back at the firehouse and he’s no longer driving?”

“Ha!” TK exclaims, but Tommy’s not done.

“TK, if I weren’t your captain, I’d be telling you that Nancy is right and you should pull your head out of your ass before it’s too late, understand?”

Now it’s Nancy’s turn to be triumphant as TK struggles to form a coherent response. Thankfully, he’s saved from further torment by them finally pulling up at the scene—a warehouse where one of the workers had become trapped after parts of the upper level walkway had broken and fallen. Apparently, the falling metal had caused some of the machinery to malfunction, turning the call from simple to beyond complicated in a matter of minutes.

“TK, grab your turnout gear and your bag; I’m sending you in with them,” Tommy informs him as soon as they’re out of the rig. “Normally, we’d just talk the firefighters through it over radio, but given your training it’ll be quicker and safer for you to deal with our patient.”

TK grins; he’s missed the adrenaline rush of running into emergencies more than he can say. “Got it, Cap.”

“Maybe try and look a little less happy about a serious injury, too.”

“Copy that.”

*

The noise when they enter the warehouse is deafening, an ugly screeching cutting right through TK’s skull.

“Shouldn’t they have shut the machines off?” he shouts, fighting to be heard.

“Apparently they can’t,” Judd calls back. “Something wrong with the control panel, I don’t know exactly what.”

TK groans—just what they need. The sound is lost in the din, but Carlos still looks over and gives him a sympathetic grin, shrugging in a ‘what can you do’ motion. TK can’t help but grin back, the mere sight of Carlos easing the annoyance he feels and the headache already beginning to build behind his eyes.

Their patient, when they reach him, is pinned under a large, heavy-looking sheet of metal. He’s bleeding from a gash on his temple and his skin is worryingly pale, to the extent that TK can tell even from a distance. He jogs to the patient’s side and kneels down, pressing his fingers against his neck.

“Cap, I have a pulse,” he reports into his radio after a few seconds. “But he’s unconscious with a head wound, and I think there are probably injuries I can’t see yet. Possible spinal damage, but I can’t tell until we’ve got this metal off him.”

“Copy that,” Captain Vega says. “Get ready to run a line; he’s gonna need it as soon as he’s free.”

TK nods and moves to secure a c-collar around his neck. “We need to cut this thing off of him,” he says, addressing the team. “Quickly, but carefully.”

Judd steps forward, brandishing the saw. He hands TK a couple of spare turnouts and kneels on the patient’s other side. “Couple of you need to cover him, and yourselves.”

TK doesn’t even have to ask before Carlos appears next to him, taking one of the turnouts from him. He smiles gratefully before arranging himself to provide maximum protection to all three of them as Judd starts working on the metal. The vibrations from the saw are unpleasant, and TK dreads to think what effect it’s having on the already unstable machinery, but it’s the only option they have to get their patient free.

Fortunately, everything seems to go off without a hitch, and soon the team are able to remove the metal. TK immediately gets to work, feeling for any damage. As he suspected, there’s a pretty large gash on the man’s leg which is bleeding badly, though thankfully it seems to have missed any arteries. He also seems to have a broken wrist, but he should heal.

TK quickly wraps his leg, then gets Carlos and Judd to help move him onto the spine board. It feels like, for once, the call has gone as smoothly as possible, and TK allows himself a breath of relief as they prep to get the guy outside to the ambulance.

Naturally, that’s when everything goes to hell.

The machine closest to them lets out a threatening groan and shudders before there’s a loud roar and it explodes. On instinct, TK folds himself over the patient as shrapnel rains down on them, and he sees Carlos doing the same in his periphery.

The downpour seems to last forever, but eventually it slows and comes to a stop. TK cautiously lifts his head, his heart pounding, and sags in relief as it seems that the worst is over.

They need to get out of here, now.

He stands, a brief stab of pain running through his back—probably because of his awkward position over the patient—and turns to Carlos, reaching to offer him a hand up.

Only to see Carlos’s face tight with agony, and then the cause—a jagged piece of shrapnel running right through his hand.

“Carlos,” TK breathes, horrified. Carlos looks up at him, his breathing carefully measured and his eyes wide, and TK drops back to his knees, reaching out for him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Carlos swallows and nods, his eyes squeezing tight. TK’s heart rate skyrockets, and he’s barely able to keep his cool as he signals to the others to get their first patient out of the warehouse.

“Cap, the team are bringing him out, but we have a problem.”

“Talk to me, Strand, what’s going on?”

“It—It’s Carlos.” TK breathes out shakily and takes a moment to steady himself before continuing, “It’s not serious, but some of the machinery broke apart and some shrapnel impaled his hand. I’ve got to stabilise the shard before we come out to you.”

“Alright, but hurry. I don’t want you guys in there for longer than necessary.”

“Copy.”

Stabilising the shrapnel with rolls of gauze and wrapping Carlos’s hand should be a matter of course—it’s an easy process that TK could probably do in his sleep. But this is Carlos, so his damn hands won’t stop shaking and he almost fumbles and drops his supplies.

He manages though, and soon he’s helping Carlos up, instructing him to hold his injured hand above his heart. Carlos sends him a wobbly smile, which ends up turning out to be more of a grimace, but it’s a comfort nonetheless. Things could have gone so much worse today; TK could have even lost him, and he would have never been able to—

But that’s not important. Carlos is okay, or he will be, and they still have plenty of time to figure out whatever this is between them.

Everything will be okay.

TK’s back and side twinge again as they make their way out, but he brushes it off, too focused on getting Carlos to the hospital as fast as possible. Tommy shakes her head as they make their way over, her eyebrows raised despite the concern clearly in her expression.

“Never a peaceful moment with you, Strand, is it?” she asks dryly, hissing as she inspects Carlos’s wound.

“In my defence, Cap,” he says, more at ease now that they’re safe, “it’s not me who’s injured this time.”

Tommy hums, then directs Carlos into the back of the rig, jumping in after him. “Get back here, TK. Nancy’s driving.”

She has a teasing look in her eyes that instantly makes TK suspicious, but he moves to comply, shrugging off his turnout coat as he does. The movement hurts, which is weird, but he thinks nothing of it.

At least, until Tommy’s eyes go wide and she stands from her seat, holding her hands out towards him. “TK, do not move,” she instructs, her eyes firmly fixed on his right side.

TK frowns, then follows her gaze down, and— Oh.

His grey undershirt is stained with blood, and it’s difficult to miss the large piece of metal sticking out of his side. He has no idea how he missed it, but now that he knows, the pain slams into him full force, causing him to stagger.

“Oh,” he gasps, eloquently.

Then, his legs buckle and the world goes black.

*

TK wakes up to a steady beeping sound, which only exacerbates his pounding headache. He groans, scrunching his face up, before slowly peeling his eyes open, almost slamming them shut again after getting an eyeful of obnoxiously bright fluorescents.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, sounding surprised, then the lights suddenly dim, the room lit by the gentle glow of a lamp. TK sighs in relief and shifts to look at his saviour.

It’s Carlos.

“You… You’re here,” TK states, confused. His gaze drifts down Carlos’s body and lands on the white bandages around his hand, the memories of the warehouse suddenly hitting him all at once. “Shit, you— How are you?”

Carlos shakes his head and comes to sit in the chair by TK’s bed. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

“I’m a paramedic, it’s my job.”

“Not when you’re the one in the hospital bed,” Carlos counters, sighing. “If you must know, I’m fine. They gave me some pretty good drugs, so…” He shrugs, and TK can’t help but laugh, which proves to be a very bad idea.

His side lights up, an unnecessary reminder that TK is very much not on the good drugs, and he moans softly, slowly settling back in the bed. “I hate you,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

“You love me,” Carlos says, and TK’s heart seizes in his chest.

The silence after his words is deafening, so TK forces himself to crack his eyes open enough to look at him. Carlos is frozen in his chair, biting his lip hard, and he looks like he either wants to bolt or be swallowed by the earth.

TK thinks he should probably be feeling the same. They’ve been dancing around this issue for weeks now, and he’d thought he had it under control. That he could last that little bit longer until his one year was up; that he could ignore these feelings that have been steadily growing since he first laid eyes on Carlos.

It was a hopeless endeavour; he recognises that now. TK remembers the fear he felt when Carlos was injured back at the warehouse, the desperation for him to be better, and now with his own injury…

He could have lost this chance before he ever got it, and TK isn’t about to let it slip through his fingers now. He reaches out and takes Carlos’s good hand, startling him into meeting TK’s eyes.

“Yeah,” TK whispers, just loud enough for Carlos to hear him. “I think I do.”

The smile Carlos gives him lights up the room, and he doesn’t waste any time in leaning down to kiss TK. And it’s… It’s everything TK had hoped and imagined it would be and more. It’s soft and sweet and gentle and perfect, and he never wants it to end.

But end it does, though Carlos doesn’t go far. TK smiles at him, squeezing his hand with all the strength he can muster.

“That’s a yes, by the way,” he says.

Carlos frowns. “What?”

TK’s smile widens and he flicks his eyebrows at Carlos. “To dinner. Or were you not asking me out after all?”

Carlos huffs a laugh, and the look in his eyes when they lock back onto TK’s melts his heart and makes his entire chest ache. “Does Friday work for you?”

He nods, tugging Carlos down for another kiss. “It’s a date.”

[empires-recap]

Weekly Recap: Sept 12th - 18th

A/N: Hello and Welcome to Weekly Empires Breakdown 1! Sorry I don’t have many episode breakdowns to attach to this, I go really in depth and with 3 tests in 4 days this week I just didn’t have the time to dedicate to all the episodes to give them the breake=down they deserve. I will get to them eventually, but this overall my main focus. One week of Empires Video’s Lore all nice and summed up for you guys. So look out for these every Monday, covering Sunday to Saturday so people have a chance to watch all the videos the videos and I’m not spoiling the vids that only came out yesterday. Also, perspectives of events will only be sited if it was released in a episode in this timeframe. Duplicate events may be included week to week based on what creators upload. And feel free to let me know if I missed anything important. So, let’s get into it.

Videos Included this week:

Gem Episode 13 (Fri)

Jimmy Episode 15 (Fri)

Joey Episodes 18 and 19 (Mon, Fri)

Katherine Episode 20 (Sun)

Lizzie Episode 15

Pixl Episodes 22 & 23 (Mon, Fri)

Sausage Episodes 29 - 31 (Sun, Wed, Sat)

Scott Episode 19 (Fri)

Shubble Episodes 16 & 17 (Sun, Tues)

Major Events - Multi-person Lore Events 

The Phantom Joins? The Assassin’s guild - Sausage meets the Assassin, who seems interested in joining the guild but is anti-demon, though doesn’t show his stance outright. Sausage asks him to fulfill a contract and bring him the head of an Empire’s Ruler. He then immediately kills Sausage with blue firework rockets (Such a power move omg). (Sausage 29)

Meeting of Scott’s Allies - Scott calls all his allies to Rivendell to propose a plan for their corruption: put it in a box somewhere far away and forget about it. Katherine volunteers her box of corruption, incased in obsidian in the mountains. They all put their corruption in the box and walk away. In a later scene, unknown to the characters, the box begins to leak corruption (Gem 13, Katherine 20).

Re-solidifying an Alliance - Pixl heads to Katherine to re-solidify their shaky alliance. They do this by heading out to the desert and collecting rare mob heads Katherine does not have (Katherine 20, Pixl 22)

The Bloodlust of The Lost Emperor - Joey, taken over by the bloodlust of the crown gifted to him by Xornoth, goes out and kills both Shubble and fWhip (Joey 18, Shubble 16)

Meeting of the Corrupted - Sausage and Joey meet up. They gush over the power they have been gifted before Joey suggests capturing people. They scout out their targets: GeminiTay and Scott Smajor, while Sausage informs Joey on what he knows of the two. This mainly includes the Dragon Egg, the lack of corruption on one side of Rivendell, and the brotherly relationship between Scott and Xornoth (Joey 28, Sausage 30)

The Capture and Rescue - Joey and Sausage meet with Xornoth to talk about the plan of capturing Scott and Gem. He says they can do what they want with Gem, but Scott must be kept alive as he’s part of the bigger picture. Scott and Gem are talking around Gem’s Embassy at Scott’s when Joey comes up to them. Joey tries to get them to follow him but they refuse. Sausage, who was sneaking up on them, come out and hits them with sleeping potions. Scott and Gem wake up with Mining Fatigue in Sausage’s dungeon, where they are questioned: Gem about the dragon egg and Scott about the brother thing. Gem is actually killed twice during this. Sausage and Joey try to get them to hand over the egg and stop trying to stop Xornoth and they refuse. They leave them there after Scott points out they can’t do anything while trapped. Jimmy, coming to Mythland to brag about how tall his wall is to Sausage, finds the two and frees them. (Gem 13, Jimmy 15, Joey 19, Sausage 31, 

Gunpowder Boys Prank - fWhip meets with Pixlriffs to trade and share demon discoveries and how they have been utilizing the corruption to their own benefit. They then work together and put two elder guardians in Mythland: one in The Dark Tower and one under his house in the dungeon. They try to get a third by his afk hole in the Iron Farm, but it dies. This series of clips also confirms Pixl either has no idea about The Phantom or is denying his knowledge about to fWhip, who seems to acknowledge the incident with Sausage and The Phantom.(Pixl 23, Reaction in Sausage 31)

Battle Arena - Pearl and Sausage build a battle arena between their based, however twice - once proposing the idea and another time during their first fight in the arena - Sausage gets possessed and turned into a more corrupted version of himself. Sausage does not remember anything during these blackouts. Also, Pearl wins the fight (Sausage 31)

Demon Watch - What is happening with corruption, the demon itself, and the resistance efforts against it

The Eyeball has moved, the last known location of it being Lizzie’s base. Crystals have also popped up around the server floating above people’s builds, usually important ones (this is pointed out in Sausage 30). Xornoth physically appeared in 3 episodes this week: Joey 19, Sausage 31, and Shubble 17. To Joey and Sausage, he appeared to over them assistance in their plan to kidnap Scott and Gem, and also to tell them not to touch Scott. He appeared to Shubble, taunting her first by calling her a coward and killing Lord of Mars (o7) but also by showing the power he could gift her if she joined his side. Considering he destroyed her last kingdom, she refused and then he killed her. Resistance stances have been mixed. Gem still has possession of the egg, with no indication if it will hatch anytime soon. fWhip has turned the corruption into fertilizer. Pixl has observed that copper slowly kills the corruption  by turning it into a harden substance and, when struck by lightning with a copper rod, can petrify the tentacles in a fossilized state. Katherine had tried to cure the tentacles with the potion that cured her flowers, but it and the new Moat have failed to stop their advancement.

Personal Events - Buildings, Trade Deals, Personal or Single-Person Lore not including the demon

Gem - Gem builds the embassy at Scotts. After returning from being captured, she calls on friends from other servers to help protect her and the egg: Three White Dragons with purple wings now circle her wizard tower.

Jimmy - Jimmy builds a tower next to his wall, officially taller than Sausages, and plans out the border for his wall/mega-base to surround his kingdom. He also promises one diamond to anyone who brings him a cod head.

Joey - Joey works on the start of the interior of the water temple. It’s not finished, but he also talks about his goal as emperor of the lost empire is to build up the temples of the 4 elements - Fire, Water, Earth and Air - to reunite the kingdom in harmony again. He also is still jealous about the amount of corruption other empires are getting, and is also jealous of when empires have a lack of corruption as shown with his meeting with fWhip.

Katherine - Katherine might bring Pixl in to the plushie business, but at the very least has a sale as he wants a husk plushie in his empire. All other events in her involve the corruption or other people.

Lizzie -  Lizzie builds a tunnel from her empire to Katherine’s, decorating the inside to make the steady train ride more enjoyable. In the dessert section of her tunnel she girlbosses tricks Joel and Scott to do the manual labor for her. She also receives Sausage’s “Thank you for Helping to Kill the Dragon” present

Pixl - Pixl returns to Pixandria after several episodes of self imposed exile. He has a brief interaction with Sausage when the man drops off his “Thank you for Helping to Kill the Dragon” Present, basically telling him you are not welcome here.

Sausage - Sir Carlos finally arrives in Mythland, warning Sausage that he cannot escape becoming fully corrupted. He gifts him an artifact he needs to keep in his inventory to escape the spirit realm Bubbles will guide him through after he fully dies, although he is a bit frustrated that Sir Carlos doesn’t tell him who gave him the information or the artifact. He takes a stealth mission to gather information on the other empires, saves the bloodsheep that have been disappearing since Xornoth came to full power, and got the Great Staff of Mythland gifted by a friend.

Scott - Scott shows off his embassy buildings and gets conned by Lizzie to build her tunnel for her

Shubble - Shubble focuses on building a mushroom house for one of her future villagers, and builds the embassy at Scott’s base. Xornoth also gifts her a villager, mainly because he wanted her to kill it testing out her gifted powers. 

[fandomgalore-blog]

⚠️ SPOILERS FOR S2E11 ARE BELOW⚠️

- Yeah, I kinda get why Miss Jenn didn’t wanna do understudies due to the way they were all acting in HSM. At the same time, that’s risky

- I loved Ricky’s regular makeup in like the first few minutes of the episode. It’s definitely better than the one from last season with the weird eyeliner he had going on

- I wish Tim would show us North High’s performance so I can judge whether or not they were as good as they made them seem on my own, but I know he didn’t show it for time purposes

- Of course they both had a hard time writing a good luck note and lied about it lmfao.

- I CANNOT WITH EJ’S ROBBIE ROTTEN MAKEUP ✋🏽😭

- PORTWELL RISOTTO DATE AFTER THE SHOW, PRRRRR

- Carlos really said 👁👄👁

- Wait, North High allowed the crew to set their students on fire for a high school production? Lord have mercy

- I didn’t put together that they’d be winning money if they won for some reason. I thought it’d be like a medal or something. Then again, I haven’t really thought about the Menkies like that all season, so I shouldn’t be too shocked

- Miss Jenn is the queen of incorrectly hyping people up

- Oh snap, Miss Jenn love triangle has entered the chat again

- I see where Ricky gets his failure to tell his feelings

- Lily, please go away forever, disrespectfully

- Tim, stop bringing new love interests for Ricky. He’s been through enough. Let’s not add on fucking Lily of all people. I’m convinced Tim sees his younger self through Ricky’s eyes, and that’s why he likes to torture him. After all, he named Ricky’s parents after his own 👀

- Actually, Ricky in the human version of the beast is doing it for me 👀

- What kind of witchcraft did Ricky pull to get that face makeup on like that?!

- Miss Jenn, I feel that wasn’t a wise choice

- I loved “Be Our Guest!!!!!”

- Why is Howie acting robotic like Mazzara?

- Jamie’s earring is so distracting

- You gotta have Jordan Fisher sing if you bring him in ✋🏽😤

- Ashlyn/Julia bodied “Something There”

- Portwell was so cute with the side glances in “Something There” I cannot handle this 😫

- Uh oh, Jamie is a threat to Portwell. Go away chile 😍

- Miss Jenn basically told Ricky to die 😭

- LILY, YOU CONNIVING BITCH! I knew she would do some fuck shit like that. Ricky does not need this extra stress from another girl

- No!!! Portwell better get to be happy!!!

- Where the FUCK is Antoine??? He’d totally show up to the musical. Also, he is my KING!!!

- Oh boy, that Rini good luck note scene is gonna be truly something else

- I actually liked this episode, and I’m genuinely excited for the finale! I didn’t think I would be since I haven’t been excited for an episode in a while, so this is a nice turn of events

- Someone pointed out to me that it’s possible Howie was acting strange because he stole the harness for Lily or maybe he at least knew

- How do you think it’ll end? I think the Menkies will find out they cheated because Howie will confess out of guilt or maybe someone will get caught in the act. East High might win on a technicality. I’m not too sure since this season is so unpredictable, so we’ll see

[kiras-sunshine]

My each and every word

Carlos Reyes Week 2021

Day 1: “I love you but stop talking + fluff”

Summary: “I love you, but stop talking,” he mutters, his eyes still closed.

It slips out of his tongue. The words are out of his mouth before he can really think about them, but TK falls silent next to him immediately. The room is quiet, and while the silence is not uncomfortable, he faintly feels like there is something wrong with what he just said. 

On ao3

or

”Squeeze my hands,” TK says, as he holds both of his hands in his own. His expression looks so focused as he looks down to their joined hands it almost makes Carlos want to laugh.

He does as he asks, even though he faintly thinks that all of this feels a little pointless. He feels absolutely fine, but TK has still woken him up already five times during the night to check if he has a concussion.

He sits on his side of the bed cross-legged, his hair is a mess, and he has dark circles under his eyes, but his eyes are full of softness.

“Okay, good,” he breathes out and lets his hands slip away from his. He holds up his index finger. “Follow my finger.”

Carlos sighs softly. “Ty, I appreciate this,” he says as he follows his slowly moving finger with his gaze, “but I’m fine.”

He glares at him. “You were in a car crash,” he points out, “you hit your head twice.”

In his opinion, car crash feels like an exaggeration. It makes it seem more dramatic than it was. His partner had been driving the car and another car had run a red light and crashed straight into their side in the middle of the intersection.

It hadn’t been a massive collision, but he still managed to hit his head against the window and the car seat. Or at least that is what he thinks happened. The details are a little fuzzy, because it had all happened so fast and he cannot recall where he exactly dumped his head.

“Yeah, but I feel fine,” he insists.

His head is still throbbing with dull pain and his shoulders are stiff, but it is nothing he couldn’t live with. He didn’t even get a scratch from the crash and he could walk out of the car by himself. He had been checked in the ER and the doctor had given him painkillers and ordered him to rest for a day or two.

She had been concerned that he might have a mild concussion and that he should keep an eye on the possible symptoms and TK had taken that advice to the heart when Carlos had mentioned about it, offhandedly, when he came over to his place after the shift.

“Do you feel nauseated?” He asks, continuing on to next part of his question pattern.

“No,” he says, as he lies down in the bed. The ache in his shoulders eases as he breathes in deeply.

The bed feels softer than usually and the bundled duvet is warm against his legs and all he wants to do is to fall asleep again and possibly sleep longer than an hour.

TK gently strokes his cheek with one finger. “What day is it?”

“Monday.”

“Be more specific.”

“25th,” he replies without missing a beat. He looks up to him and finds him smiling at him, softly.

They have no lights on because bright lights make his headache worse, so the bedroom is dim, but he can still make out his face and see that his eyes are glistering. TK rubs his own cheek and jaw little helplessly.

“Okay, maybe you don’t have a concussion,” he says, admitting his defeat and lying down next to him. He settles the pillow under his head and just looks at him. There is so much affection and love in his eyes, it is almost impossible for his sleep deprived brain to comprehend.

“I’m glad we are on the same page,” he says, as he supresses a yawn.

“Tired?” He half-mutters against the pillow.

“Yeah,” he admits, “like I’ve been woken up five times during the last five hours,” he adds, with a lopsided smile.

“Sorry,” he says, in a soft tone, but he doesn’t sound particularly apologetic.

“It’s fine.” He lazily cups his face with one hand and presses a kiss against his forehead, even though moving causes a sharp pain to flash through his neck. “I’m glad you’re here, but you can stop worrying about me.”

The painkillers are definitely making him sleepy and his mind just a bit fuzzier than normally. The exhaustion is hanging deeply on his limbs and he feels like his thoughts are a bit jumbled, but he guesses it is due to the lack of sleep and pulling a twelve-hour shift before the crash.

TK closes his eyes and opens them slowly again. “I just want you to be okay,” he says in a small voice.

“And I am,” he reassures. He still hasn’t moved his hand away from his cheek and TK turns his head slightly to kiss his palm.

“Okay.”

He smiles at him and closes his eyes. He means to close them only temporarily because TK is still talking, but his eyelids feel heavy and he can feel himself slowly slipping asleep despite the headache in the base of his skull. He cannot really focus on his words, even though he tries his best to listen to him.

He likes TK’s voice. It’s deep, calming and just slightly hoarse. His tone is soft, and he is faintly sure that whatever he is saying to him is worth of listening to, and usually he could listen to him for hours on end, just describing his day or telling something that happened on work, but right now, all he wants to do is sleep and he cannot think about anything else.

His voice is barely above a whisper, but he feels like his headache might be getting worse at any sound he hears.

“I love you, but stop talking,” he mutters, his eyes still closed.

It slips out of his tongue. The words are out of his mouth before he can really think about them, but TK falls silent next to him immediately. The room is quiet, and while the silence is not uncomfortable, he faintly feels like there is something wrong with what he just said.

There is something bothering him about it, nagging at the corner of his mind, but he cannot clasp the thought before it slips away again. His mind is too tired, and his thoughts feel as if they were thickening and he cannot think straight.

He suddenly feels that maybe he came across a little ungrateful. He has insisted every time he has woken him up that it has been unnecessary and, generally, telling people to shut up feels impolite. He cannot recall the exact words he used just moments before and he still cannot put his finger on what is making him uneasy about it, but he has the faintest idea that he should apologize.

It means the world to him that TK is there with him and willing to look after him, and he knows he deserves better than him telling him to shut up. He has no real energy to attempt to open his eyes, but he fumbles with his hand and he finds his fingers and curls his own around them. He brings it up and softly kisses his knuckles.

“Ty, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean like that,” he whispers, mostly against his hand.

“It’s fine,” he says, with a soft sigh. “You should sleep.”

He distantly thinks that he doesn’t sound annoyed with him and he considers it a win, and he thinks he should say something more, but he falls asleep before he can wallow in that thought any longer.

*****

He wakes up with a jolting pain in his shoulder and his mouth is dry like a sandpaper. It takes a moment before the memories of the accident and the following evening flood into his mind and he is slightly disappointed to realise that he is alone in the bed. He fumbles TK’s side of the bed and it feels cold, he probably has gotten up hours ago.

He sighs as he gets up. He feels better than before, he mind feels clearer and the headache has faded almost to nothing. He half-expects to feel nauseated when he stands up, but nothing happens.

It doesn’t take him long to find TK curled up in the corner of the couch in the living room. He has a blanket thrown over his legs and his face is lit up by his phone screen, but he puts it down as soon as he notices him.

“You okay?”

His eyebrows are furrowed, and he sounds concerned.

“Yeah, just thirsty,” he replies as he takes a glass out of the cupboards and pours water into it. He takes a big gulp as he walks to the couch next to him. “Why are you up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies with a thin and sombre smile.

He knows falling asleep doesn’t always come easy to him and he has hard time making his brain slow down. He likes to get up and distract himself instead of merely tossing and turning in the bed.

They have been officially together closer to three months, and while Carlos cannot claim he could read him like an open book, he feels like has gotten considerably better at reading him.

Picking up and understanding small cues, from the way he smiles to way he breaths and movement of his hands, has been a slow process, but he likes to think he knows him somewhat well, and he has a hunch that this might be about something else than just inability to fall asleep.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies almost immediately and sucks in his breath.

He keeps studying him with his gaze. He seems fine, but there is almost certain sadness humming underneath his smile.

“I’m sorry about the earlier,” he says, as he takes another gulp of water. He doesn’t truly believe that it would be what is bothering him. He had complained about the constant waking up only to reassure him that he was not in the imminent threat of developing a brain damage, but he still feels the need to apologize.

It’s a bit of a shot in the dark, but TK’s expression changes. He bites his lower lip before he flashes him sudden smile. “It’s okay. You were tired and possibly concussed, all sort of things can slip,” he says with a vague wave of hand.

“I don’t have a concussion,” he argues, drinking the remaining of his water and placing the glass next to the couch on the floor. He shifts his focus back to him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he says, easily, but he pinches a part of the blanket in between his fingers and fidgets with the fabric of it. “Do you remember what you said?”

There is almost uncertainness and wistfulness in his voice that catches him by surprise.

“I told you to shut up,” he says softly, “which seems a bit harsh.” He places his hand over the one that keeps fidgeting with the blanket. He stops the movement of his fingers. He glances up from their hands up to his face.

“Do you remember anything else?”

He stares at him, blinking and feeling slightly perplexed. He knows he was tired, and he still is, but he cannot remember saying anything else except asking him to stop talking. A small knot of dread forms in his stomach, he doesn’t like being unsure of his own actions or words.

“No.”

“Huh,” he breathes out. He straightens up on the couch and he opens his mouth but closes it abruptly. “Maybe we should do the tests again.”

He rolls his eyes, fondly. “Ty, I’m alright.”

He just grins at him. “You have a tiniest memory lapse there, babe,” he declares, holding his thumb and index finger really close together.

He asks him the questions, make him squeeze his hands and follow his finger, and Carlos does all of that, mostly just to humour him but also because it is starting to nag his mind a little that he has said something that he cannot no longer recall.

“You don’t seem concussed,” he concludes, but his eyes are still darting between his face and hands, as if trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle that doesn’t have all the pieces.

“I told you,” he breathes out with a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth.

He likes to think he would know if he had a concussion.

“You sure you are feeling okay?” He asks, again, but this time he tentatively touches his jawline with his fingers.

“Yeah. What did I say? Something mortifying?” He jokes with a chuckle that sounds a bit nervous to his own ears, too.

He knows whatever he said half-asleep must hold some significance because otherwise TK wouldn’t be hanging on the fact that he has forgotten his own words. Half of their conversations are had in half-asleep state after their shifts, and afterwards he cannot recall every detail. So, the fact that he has slipped something he cannot remember shouldn’t be unusual.

“You told me you loved me,” he says, holding his gaze. He shrugs and waves his hand. “Well, your exact words were I love you but stop talking.”

“Oh,” he says, half-involuntarily.

It is the first time he has told him it. Aloud anyway. The thought of it has been ringing in his head with clarity for weeks now, and the words have been on the tip of his tongue so many times, but he hasn’t said them.

He is not completely sure why he has held back those three little words. He guesses it might be because he fears scaring him off or trailing their relationship into territory, he is not ready for. He guesses it is a bit ridiculous because after the beginning’s back-and-forth he has never made him feel that he would want nothing else or less than him and their relationship.

Still, the first verbal love confession feels like a milestone. Although, he feels like both of their actions have been screaming small I loves yous for a while now.

His train of thought is disrupted when TK continues talking. “Which was followed by I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Carlos cannot help but grimace. It sounds terrible to his own ears, now, too, and while there is no traces of hurt in TK’s voice, it still sounds slightly strained, and he thinks he might have figured out why he was unable to fall asleep immediately.

He has no recollection of saying those words, but they must have come so effortlessly and naturally to him in his mind, that he didn’t even register that there was anything odd about saying them, or that maybe he should have put more thought and effort into them.

“I wasn’t sure to which one you referred to,” he continues with a light but joyless laugh, but he intertwines their fingers and holds his hand in his gently.

“Obviously to the talking part,” he replies, immediately and squeezes his hand.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. Half-assed slip during the middle of the night definitely was not the way he hoped to tell him it, but he is a little relieved that he has managed to tell him it, at least once.

“You don’t have to--,” he starts, because he doesn’t want him to feel pressured, but he is stopped when TK places his index finger against his lips.

“I love you, too,” he whispers with an enamoured grin.

He is convinced that his heart skips a beat at hearing his words. It fills his heart with such pure and raw happiness he is afraid that his heart might burst at any given moment, but it also brings him different kind of sureness to hear him say he loves him. As if all the pieces of the universe have suddenly shifted into their rightful places.

He cannot help but smile, beatifically, but he still squeezes his hand a little tighter and rubs the back of his hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry you thought I were taking it back.”

He lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m not sure what I thought,” he tells him slowly, “uh, I know I’m not the easiest person to love so--,” he continues, but he lets his voice trail off.

“Absolutely not true,” he argues, immediately, and cups his face with his free hand.

“That’s sweet,” he replies, leaning into his touch.

“It’s the truth. There is nothing unlovable about you.”

He stays quiet at that, but the way he looks at him is enough for him. It’s intense, warm and disarming and he almost feels like he could see straight into his soul and essence of him.

He reaches to kiss him. His lips are soft against his own and the one kiss blends into a series of slow kisses and he pushes him gently against the couch. TK laughs into the kisses and they are both smiling so wide that the kissing is becoming challenging.

“Can I say it again?” He asks, as he rests his forehead against his and they are both trying to catch their breath, “now that I’m awake enough to remember saying it?”

“You can say it as often as you like,” he whispers, and he can feel his breath against his face and neck.

“You will get tired of hearing it,” he deadpans but he cannot bite down his grin.

“I don’t think that’s possible. Just like I won’t get tired of saying it, like ever.”

“Good,” he says, feeling almost giddy with happiness, “because I love you, a lot.”

TK chuckles, but he sounds genuinely happy and carefree and it makes his stomach twist in a best way possible. He closes the small distance between their lips and this time the kiss is still full of adoration and affection, but it is still more eager. His hand finds the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slightly and TK’s hand is in the base of his skull, tracing a small circle against his scalp.

Carlos kisses the corner of his mouth before he stars to press soft and small kisses along his jawline and trailing into a particular soft spot just above his collarbone that he knows that drives him crazy when he kisses it.

“I’m not complaining,” TK says, sounding a little out of breath, “but I think the doctor’s orders included rest and that is not where this is heading if you keep that up.”

He laughs against his neck, but he still raises his head. He flashes a beaming grin at him. “I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t have a concussion then,” he says, smugly.

He hums but he wraps his arms around him. “Maybe so,” he says, but he flips them around gently but swiftly, and he ends up laying against the couch, TK astride on top of him. He sits there, looking around him, and he already misses the warmth and feeling of his body against him.

TK seems to spot what he was looking with his gaze and slightly reaches to pick up something from the floor. It’s one of the couch pillows and he motions him to raise his head. He does so and he places the pillow under his head.

He represses the urge to roll his eyes fondly, but he still gives him a look.

“What?” He says, laughing as he pulls his shirt off, “I don’t want you to get any more hurt.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but a wave of warmth spreads in his chest. Besides, his neck feels instantly better resting against the flat pillow.

“I know,” he replies, easily, before he kisses him again. “Also, please stop talking,” he says with a genuine laughter against his lips.

“Make me.”

“Gladly.”

[allkinds-oftrash]

Ya girl is watching the latest HSM series ep and Imma live blog it hshshs and will add my reactions under the cut so it doesn't end up a long post. Anyways, let's goo:

AHHHH THE MORNING SHOW WITH GINA AND EJ WE LOVE TO SEE IT

They really said we're gonna let life imitate art with Nini and Olivia huh

Ricky was SUPPORTIVE??? Damnn I really thought we gonna get a classic Ricky tantrum....

But also wow sir that sounds salty and should definitely talk to someone abt how you're feeling...A therapist maybe 👀

I know we needed to contextualise how Ricky felt abt the song but I really wanted to see Nini's interview in full!!

Sebby you're so cute I do wanna see yall do DEH

Shjshshs not the rights not being available for another 5 years 😭😭

I dunno how they're in great shape and closer to the Menkies Gold after not having a single proper rehearsal, but go off Miss Jenn

Omg honestly Kourt's costumes are always amazing and on point Imma excited to see it

Kourt is such a simp we love to see it

Carlos is so pissy this episode we love to see it shshhs

Also love the way Seb calms him down and keeps him nice it's such a funny dynamic

"We had 20 people make our Belle dress over 50 hours" Okay North High shut the fuck up

I'm calling it now the reason North High knows so much is cos Howie is the leak and Kourt has been unwittingly telling him. The way her phone keeps going off as they discuss how North High knows everything is really good foreshadowing if my prediction is right

Also like her phone went off just as Carlos said "How did they know that?" THAT'S PEAK FORESHADOWING

If Howie ain't in North High, I dunno what Tim is doing

GSJAGSHAH KOURTNEY MAKING ABS FOR EJ I CANNOT

"I have abs" We know sweetie

"I PADDED THE THUSH FOR YOU" "AWW THANKS KOURT I NEEDED THAT" THIS INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS SO FUNNY!! I love that it is now canon that EJ has abs but no butt love that for him

Okay but like damn these costumes are great!! North High can fuck right off with its high end ones I just wanna see lowkey homemade costumes by students; I'd watch a Broadway show if I wanted to see professional costumes okay

Damn Carlos has killer eyesight clocking in that mask in the trunk

GINA BBY DON'T SAY THAT AND HAHSGSH NINI NUDGING HER WAS SO FUNNY

Nini's little look over at Gina was like "Omg you guys my girlfriend is so cute and dumb" GINI STANS HOW WE FEELING?

Miss Jenn don't be that naive, your boyfriend probably put them up to it

That Insta page is prophetic with their timing tbh; all the info is a leak obviously looking at your Howie but like the timing of it all. Those kiddos don't know that they are discussing the stolen mask at this exact moment (Kourt has put down her phone after Carlos snapped at her so Howie doesn't know they are talking abt it rn)

"We don't dance with the enemy" *cuts to her dancing with Zackey later*

SEBBY WEARING THE TEACUP COSTUME OMG HE'S GOING MAKE SUCH A CUTE CHIP (yes I am still mad Seb/Joe was robbed but Imma fangirl over the costume anyway)

Wtf why does North High look so expensive - they are literally in the same district as East High right??? How did they get this much funding

North High is a very artsy and rich for a public school; they should have had Nini go here instead of YAC tbh (like this campus feels like what YAC should have been) NOW THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING STORYLINE

Seblos' dynamic IS ON POINT THIS EP I really love my bois so much and their back and forth is hilarious

Shhshs DIANE who loves volleyball and North High okay I totally believe it

WHY ARE RED AND ASHLYN SO KINKY EVERY DAMN EPISODE TIM THESE ARE UNDERAGED CHARACTERS STOP IT

Shshsh we love Gina knowing herself and practicing self control by volunteering to be the lookout

Omg yall listen to Carlos and stfu they are so lucky no one saw or heard them yelling Wildcats

Oh no no no no no Miss Jenn you gonna get sucked in; this is gonna be so messy

Omg I saw someone post about this scene before I watched the ep YALL ARE RIGHT THAT BOI HITTING ON GINA IS SO FINE Babes go for that one, not EJ

NOT THEM FAKE DATING UGH E W TIM STOP MAKING ROMANTIC PORTWELL A T H I N G I honestly do not understand how some of yall can ship it romantically knowing Sofia is a whole underaged babey and Matty is a whole ass grown man - like I get the appeal of the Wonderstudies getting together and they do have chemistry but the irl age gap is creepy and outweighs the appeal of shipping them romantically

As I always say; Portwell/Wonderstudies should be a BROTP not an OTP

Ugh Brotp Portwell would have clocked Lily right away; romantic Portwell making googly eyes at each other isn't helping anyone

Living for Nini getting the recognition she deserves - I really like her solo arc this season she's so much more interesting without Ricky tbh

Aww Kourt you simp I love her and I'm so happy she's happy I wanna be wrong about Howie being a North High kid

Where is the mask??

OHMYGOD THESE KIDS COMING IN LIKE A HORROR MOVIE

Lily really wishes she was Jesse St. James huh; you could never Lily so stop

Andrew Barth Feldman and his cute little French accent I love him so much

Hnng Miss Jenn gonna get manipulated by this hoe. Omg wowow Zackey really is a hoe, making out with another girl before the show THE AUDACITY OF HIM SAYING MISS JENN WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH I WILL THROW HANDS WITH THIS MOFO

Wait the kids didn't steal it BUT WHAT IF ZACKEY DID

Ssjsgfajhdfg I CANNOT WITH ANDREW'S ACCENT but I can't tell if its really bad or really good but I'm also confused why didn't they just cast a French person as Antonie shshhs Antoine is adorableee and a little shit the best type of character

Lily is so annoying b y e sis bye and Olivia Keegan is talented I just wish they didn't make her character such a cartoony villain type

"How about if we bop to the top" SEBBY I LOVE YOU AND NEVER STOP BEING SO CUTE I SWEAR and Awww Carlos called him Honey I am s o f t

Hnng why do these fools are really gonna give into North High calling them chickens

OHHH NO SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT ASHLYN FUCK A DANCE OFF I AM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS WITH A 16 YEAR OLD

"She told us not to dance with the enemy. She's better than this" No Sebby, she's not *cuts to her dancing with Zackey* AND OMG THE WAY I SAW THIS EDIT COMING BEFORE IT CAME

Ooooh I like this song wayyy more whatever the mess The Mob Song became (when I first heard it drop on Spotify yesterday) Around You is such a great song musically and lyrically very relevant to these two and gosh I love their voices together

They have so much chemistry damn, go home Mike (well he technically has oop) and Mr. Mazzara

YES YOU DO MISS JENN YOU ALWAYS HAD IT

Oh god this is the scene from the trailer; she's gonna make a move on Ricky isn't she?? Leave him alone Lily he doesn't need a 3rd girl to be confused about he needs a therapist

Lily shut the fuck up with quasi; STOP TRYING TO MAKE QUASI HAPPEN

"I love Nini's song" Sure, Jan.

...Okay yes you should have called him out but don't bait him LIKE THAT oop there's the scene from the trailer

Ohmygod is Andrew Barth Feldman gonna hit on Ashlyn

Okay this is so cute but also I am VERY annoyed with the way this show handles its characters like they aren't relevant or important unless they get into a relationship or a love triangle?? That's such a shitty way to give out screentime and arcs to characters. Is it not enough to develop the characters on their own and strengthen their friendship???

HUH TIM why you so obsessed with compulsory heterosexuality??(well also homosexuality for Seblos but they are the only ones I'm not annoyed with their relationship cos its a hella big step for Disney to have a gay couple and their relationship isn't in our faces or overshadows the plot and its just spinkles of cuteness every time they interact - they are honestly who Rini wishes they were; besties in love. They are a couple that Tim should be taking notes from; leave the relationship drama in the background, focus on the theatre and friendship aspect of everything)

My mini rant aside; this is a very adorable interaction between Ashlyn and Antoine.

"TOM HOLLAND ON STILTS" GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT COMPARISON I AM SCREAMING ANTOINE THAT'S SO FUNNY

This is so funny he keeps picking out the hottest guys of the group; as if he himself isn't the French version of Big Red they look super alike ngl shshsh

WHY YOU RUIN IT WITH THAT ANTOINE I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU

Drama between Antoine and Red is already spicing up shshsh I cannot

Why are you so dramatic with the shuffle Lily gtfo of here...also this doesn't make sense?? She wasn't even on a BATB playlist; what if a non BATB song came on ahahah

Good to know they aren't big fans of The Mob Song like I am Awww EJ you cutie, okay I will appreciate the OG Mob Song just for you

OH WAIT HE PROLLY LIKES IT COS ITS A GASTON LED SONG TIM GIMME THE EJ SOLO I DESERVE IN THIS NUMBER

I'm being robbed of Gaston for the last 7 eps I at least deserve an EJ solo for compensation

The way the set looks straight out of Broadway but also like omg the blue lighting and fancy stage gave me intense flashbacks to that Glee episode where Vocal Adrenaline sang Bohemian Rhapsody

RICKY STOP BEING SALTY AND ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

OMG THE SUBTITLES SAID ITS HOWIE SINGING AS THE BEAST I FUCKING CALLED IT

Howie you hoe you gonna break my girl Kourtney's heart

Yeah...still not a fan of Antoine's Dance Remix

Yall know Gina would kill the dance number if she wasn't wearing that fit

Okay but it's Gaston led song WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT EJ HAVE A SOLO IN THIS SONG??

First the Beasts led it (Howie sounded better than Ricky ngl), then the Lumieres (their voices worked hella well together; I always forget what a talented singer Frankie is THEY NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOLO SONG) and now the Belles are going at it (Ashlyn's voice is superior)

BIG RED BEING JEALOUS AND SALTY IS SO FUNNY ITS LIKE A PUPPY BEING ANGRY I CRI

...Did anyone really win, Lily??? STFU

CARLOS IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT

Oooh I did see someone talk about this when the Rose Song dropped last week, apparently its illegal to add songs to a musical you're doing for a school play; I really thought the show would brush past that irl rule but I guess they are playing into it

THE WAY EVERYONE TURNED TO EJ FOR THE SPORTS METAPHOR I AM D Y I N G AND HIS FACE WAS GOLDEN! ITS LIKE THAT LISA SIMPSON MEME SHHSHSH

Okay Nini is being a little pissy about leaving her song out of the show and its a little selfish to wanna keep it at the risk of being disqualified but I also understand why she's hurt

Everyone is dog piling on her right now being against her idea and it feels like they are being against her song and her herself instead of them not wanting to be disqualified. Also like she poured her heart and soul into the song after Miss Jenn lowkey rushed her to write it. So I can see why this feels like a rejection of her and her song and why she's so hurt rather than her seeing the big picture right now

It doesn't help that Ricky said the final blow causing her to walk off

Okay maybe Zackey gets some rights for being chill and wanting the kids to be peers

THIS MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW HE WAS SHADY Also the way I gasped even though I predicted he stole the mask halfway through this ep shshsh

Stab him Miss Jenn STAB HIM

Bitch why you so threatened by East High if yall have such a Broadway-esque show planned??? They honestly should have stuck to the Little Mermaid; I really wanted to see the aquarium

"It's just a song Ricky" "A song can mean everything" Do you get deja vu? Anyone else getting intense flashbacks to Jan when DL first dropped and all the drama happened 👀

YES PLEASE STAY CO ANCHORS Gosh I love them so much esp once you take the romantic connotations out of their interactions

ROUGE GRAND I'M SCREAMING

I love this long take of checking in with everyone's relationship status (still hate how romantically focused this show has become but still a cool shot)

I K N E W IT I WAS RIGHT

Okay but like looking at Kourtney's face I have never wanted to be wrong so bad GOD I HATE IT HERE I really think he likes her and I hope they work it out

Nini setting up her own music acc feels like when Olivia rebranded her whole IG to be just for her music stuff - love this for both of them

AHHHHH SHE'S NINA NOW YALL

I know everyone loves her as Nini but like I have always loved the name Nina and it really suits her to be honest also shows how she's growing up now and kind of leans into the lyric "I won't be confined to your point of view" from The Rose Song because Nini is the nickname Ricky gave her so it shows that she's outgrowing him too and I love that for her!

Overall thoughts; they really crammed all the North High drama into one ep huh. Personally would have liked it if all of this was spread out throughout the last few episodes; like different hijinks for every episode. I'm just a big fan of properly setting up the overall arc over the season instead of patching it together closer to the climax/end of the show. Cos now it lowkey feels like two different seasons - 2A felt like The Rini/Rina Show esp with YAC storyline and whatever was going on with Rina and now 2B is finally feeling like what this season should have been all this time

[formula365]

We will always have Portimão

For a moment, during the Portuguese Grand Prix first lap, Kimi Raikkonen must have thought he had jumped into the wrong car. After all, he was supposed to be driving an Alfa Romeo, one of the slowest cars on the grid; he had started P16, a regular occurrence this season, and had only finished in the top ten once in the whole season. So how was it possible that he was breezing past Ferraris, Racing Points and Renaults? He had gained 10 places in the first lap and was glued to the Red Bull of Max Verstappen and the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc down the main straight. If indeed he was wondering about what car was he really driving, he wouldn’t have been the only one. A bit further up the field, as Kimi tussled with Verstappen and Leclerc, Carlos Sainz had just taken the lead of the race. The Spaniard must have been as surprised as everyone watching, as he left Bottas and Hamilton behind him; that was a sight he had surely not expected to see in his rearview mirrors when he woke up on Sunday morning. You would have been forgiven if you thought you had time travelled to 2012: a McLaren leading, another in P4 and Kimi in P6. Alas, it wasn’t to last - of course. There had been some light spats of rain just before the start, and the difficulty of warming up the mediums had thrown the field into pandemonium. Once those tyres were up to temperature, the natural order returned, with the Mercedes on top and Kimi moving backwards (although not as much as expected, the Finn finishing an impressive P11). Nevertheless, the first handful of laps of the race were as exciting as anything we have seen in a merry long time. The history books will tell you this was another typical 2020 podium with Hamilton, Bottas and Verstappen, the seventh time it happened in 12 races. Hamilton annihilated the opposition with a blitzing pace. There were some good races from midfield drivers: Leclerc had another strong weekend to finish P4, Gasly bossed his way to P5, Sainz faded from his early lead but still managed sixth, Checo stormed through the filed to get P7, Ocon stretched the medium tyres to last more than two thirds of the race. Plenty of praise can be spread through the field, but the highlight of the race can’t be an individual performance. The chaos of the early rounds, with drivers out of position and unexpected drivers at the front, felt like what F1 should aspire to be. The reduced grip of the early stages transformed the race, levelling the playing field and allowing race craft to come to the fore. Sainz and Kimi, perhaps with some rallying mindset to help, managed to master the conditions better than most, and it was fascinating to witness the trouble an expected lack of grip in a relatively unknown track brought to the grid. Of course, F1 can’t recreate these conditions, nor should that be the aim. But what these conditions provided was an ideal: a vision of what we, as fans, would love to see this sport become. After all, this is why we love wet races: the unpredictability, seeing frontrunners struggle and back markers shine. This is not something that can happen in a constant manner, and at the end of the day some teams and drivers will be better than others. We should, however, expect to have a more balanced field, and more opportunities for teams to evolve and grow and challenge those at the front. Fans went nuts for the opening laps of the race not just because it was crazy and it was fun, but also because deep down we know we just had a peak of the F1 we want to see. Just like Vettel, I don’t have a crystal ball, so I can’t know if the new regulations can deliver something like this, but in the meantime we can go back and re-watch the early laps of the 2020 Portuguese GP, to have a taste of the F1 we dream of. We will always have Portimão.

Talking points * I dedicated the main text of the Nurburgring review to Hamilton equalling Schumacher’s record, so I decided not to repeat myself in this race, but my oh my did he mark the occasion with a brilliant performance. Hamilton didn’t set out just to win the race, he was out there to show how much better he is than anyone else. Having lost the lead early on, he let Bottas open a small gap for a few laps, but once he turned it on, there was no stopping him. He made light work of Bottas’ defence and, once in front, disappeared into the distance. There were brief complaints about his tyres, and a cramp hampered him close to the end. No matter: he set fastest lap after fastest lap, showing his true pace in a way that, due to tyre and car management, we don’t get to see every weekend. This was pure, unadulterated Hamilton, and it was devastating. At the chequered flag, he was a massive 25 (twenty-five) seconds ahead of this teammate. This wasn’t just a win, or even a record-breaking win; this was a statement. * Watching the post-qualifying and post-race interviews with Valtteri Bottas can be heartbreaking at times. The Finn is a fantastic driver, specially on Saturdays, when he is able to push Hamilton hard for pole. Yet, no matter how hard he tries, he still has no answer to Hamilton’s true pace. When he needs to, the champion-elect switches to a gear above, one that Bottas simply cannot match. Having to face that reality right after he jumps from the cockpit has to be tough: you can almost see the light in his eyes fade weekend after weekend. * After retiring with mechanical issues in the first race in Spielberg, Lance Stroll embarked on the best run of his career, with seven consecutive races in the top 10, including a podium and two P4s. But since the heights of Monza, he has failed to score. After retiring twice in a row, and then missing the Eifel Grand Prix due to catching COVID, he must have been raring to show his pace once again, but never really seemed to show up. He crashed with Verstappen in FP2, was nowhere near the pace in qualifying, had been warned about track limits by lap 12, crashed into Lando Norris in a - let’s use a euphemism - ambitious overtaking attempt, and ended up bringing up the rear of the field until his retirement. His seat is obviously not in danger, but he is now behind his team mate in the standings, who has one less race start. After Monza he was fourth in the championship; after this weekend, he is eleventh. * Renault’s rollercoaster season continued in Portugal. After a mighty impressive run of results between Spa and Nurburgring, they seemed to go backwards again, with Ocon failing to make it to Q3 and then with both drivers failing to challenge the Racing Points and McLarens, or even the AlphaTauri of Pierre Gasly. Without the crash that took Stroll and Norris out of points contention, they would have left Portugal with just one point and their hopes of clinching P3 in the championship a bit dented. * There are several drivers on the grid racing for their futures, whether that is to retain their seat, claim a better one or just grab one of the last remaining ones. Of these, Gasly and Checo enhanced their claims enormously with tremendous drives. Checo would have probably been P5 had it not been for the team’s strategic mistake of putting him on the softs for his last stint; impressive in and of itself, but even more so given that he was spun by Verstappen on the first lap and ended up at the back of the field. This result continued his streak of finishing every race in the points; Spa and Monza aside, he has known nothing but the top 7. Gasly, on the other hand, continues to make Red Bull management look ridiculous for not wanting to take him back. Another brilliant drive saw him clinch P5 and climb to P9 in the championship, only one point behind Alex Albon. He must have stepped on some mighty toes for Red Bull to refuse to give him a chance… * Albon, on the other hand, might have just lost his seat this weekend. To start P6 and finish P12 on a Red Bull, without crashes or mechanical issues, is not up to the level required, and something has to give. He looked to have turned a corner after Mugello, the relief of finally making it to the podium obvious on his body language, but he has collected only one point in the three races since. I feel for him, as it is obvious that that seat is never going to have the full support of the team, but when you are being lapped by your teammate when he finishes regularly on the podium, something is not working. Albon is a great driver and I hope his landing will be soft, whether in F1 or elsewhere; he deserves another break.

[cecilspeaks]

163 - “Bravo”

Our moral compass has been demagnetized. Welcome to Night Vale.

Night Vale, Carlos and I went to see a new play the other night. It’s been ages since we went to the theater. I think the last show we saw was “Hamilton”, which is a Tony and Pulitzer winning hip hop musical about figure skater Scott Hamilton, who died in a duel to fellow Olympian Katarina Witt. “Hamilton” was wonderful, but live theater is so expensive. It’s a rare treat for us to get out of the house, what with the cost of tickets plus dinner, parking, a babysitter, tuxedo rentals and all that time spent watching YouTube makeup tutorials for jamming facial recognition cameras.

But my friend Charles Raynor invited us as his special guests to watch the premiere of a new play at the Night Vale Asylum, where Charles is the warden. The play was called “The Disappearance and Cover-up of Flight 18713 as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale under the Direction of Undercover Agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau.” Or, “18713/NTSB” for short. I’m used to seeing plays at the New Old Opera House or in the high school auditorium. There’s also the Black Box Theatre, which presents some of Night Vale’s most experimental drama from young performance artists. No one has seen any of these shows, or if they have, they’ve never emerged from that doorless black box, its walls perfectly smooth and faintly warm.

But this particular play was at the asylum itself. The Night Vale Asylum perches atop a craggy peak in the Sand Wastes. It’s brutalist concrete walls intermittently slashed with slivers of windows. I do not personally know anyone inside this intimidating institute, other than warden Raynor himself. And I’ll admit to being a bit nervous venturing out at night to a heavily guarded home for the criminally insane. But Carlos put me at ease by rolling his eyes. He said it was neurotypical ableism that makes us think this way. That movies and TV shows often play up harmful tropes about psychopaths and lunatics, planning daring escapes so they can return to a life of criminal misdeeds. Carlos explained that asylums are merely places where we hide away the people who most remind us of the inexplicable fragility of the human brain.

Driving out past the Scrublands under an indigo sky, the full moon low over the horizon backlighting the Night Vale Asylum atop its jagged rocky ridge, my nerves returned. I thought I heard coyotes howling in the distance, but it was the car stereo. Carlos had put on his favorite new Frank Ocean album called “Various Animals Screaming”. When we arrived, warden Raynor greeted us at the gates. Two guards wearing army style green dress uniforms flanked him. Their right breasts were laden with medals, chevrons and stripes. They each were armed with billy clubs, tasers and slingshots, and one of them was wearing an eye patch, but it was positioned in the middle of his forehead.

The warden escorted Carlos and me to our seats, which were simple wood chairs. There were only ten seats total, all in a single row along the rear wall. There was no standard stage to speak of, no curtain. The actors were all in costume in the center of the room, already in character. The other seats were already filled. Warden Raynor, Sheriff Sam, three of Sam’s secret police officers, two of Sam’s overt police officers, and an angel I had never met before, but who introduced themself to me as Erika. With a K, they added. “Nice to meet you, Erika,” I said. “You got ten bucks?” Erika asked. “Uh, sure,” I said. “What for?” “Not everyone gets to know everything,” they said. “You either got it or you don’t, man.” So I handed them ten bucks and minutes later my lower back pain, which has plagued me for the last six months, was gone. I looked back at Erika and I saw the wink at me, or I think they winked? They have ten eyes, so it could have just been an asynchronous blink. It’s hard to even tell what they’re ever looking at.

The play began with an introduction by warden Raynor, who welcomed us all to this unusual night. The first ever performance of an original play by inmates in his asylum. He introduced the writers/directors of the piece. There were three of them, each dressed in an electrical blue jumpsuit. One of them had a blister on his upper lip, another a swollen red lump along the cuticle of his right index finger. One of them had an unceasing nose bleed. I recognized them as the agents from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, who had come to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of Delta flight 18713. Sheriff Sam had placed these agents undercover in the asylum to try to meet with an inmate named Doug Biondi, who claimed to have pertinent information about the missing aircraft. Upon remembering this, I flipped quickly through my playbill to find the ensemble members’ names. And there on the title page was the name Doug Biondi, who was cast as airplane pilot. As the warden returned to his seat and before the house lights dimmed, I leaned over to Sheriff Sam and asked, “How is the undercover operation going, Sheriff?” Sam glared at me and said, “I’ve no idea what you mean.” “You know, with the NTSP officers here in the asylum trying to interview Doug Biondi?” I asked perhaps a little loudly for a theater. “The NTSP officers are criminally insane, Sessil,” the Sheriff said unironically and with more than a touch of scold in their tone. “That is why they are here. They are a danger to themselves and others.” I had many more questions, but before I could say anything, the lights faded to black, and I heard the first voice of the play.

“Find us,” called the voice in the dark. “Find us,” it echoed again. A faint glow coated like frost the wild-eyed faces of the inmates on stage. The frantic visages made all the more panic by deep eyeliner, rouge and lipstick. Most were dressed in common street clothes: slacks, jeans, buttoned-down shirts, mid-length pattern skirts. Two were dressed as flight attendants and one as the pilot. I could only presume a small budget, as the uniforms worn by the latter groups were largely suggested by navy blue hats and little plastic wings on their lapels. The pilot wore anachronistic aviation goggles and so it was difficult for me to see and remember the face of this actor, this inmate, Doug Biondi. But I could see his mouth, which was unusually white. The corners of his lips extending well past the width of his eyes. He had an unusual number of teeth in his harsh smile, a smile which never abated, even in his most somber of scenes.

“Weeee surviive,” said Biondi’s pilot character. “Weeeee livve. Weee cannot dieee. Noot here, noot in No..Where.” He said it not like the vague concept of “in no place”, but “No Where”, two words capitalized, like the name of a specific place. Each actor was seated in short tight rows of four, a narrow aisle in between, mimicking the floor plan of a common fuselage. At the front of the troup sat Doug Biondi, as airline pilot. “How did we get here, in No Where?” said one of the passengers. “And how shall we return?” said another. “Only,” they said in unison, “when you find ussss.” This last line they said with a quick twist of their necks towards the audience. Then the scene shifted, the chairs cleared and all of the actors stood in the profile of a Greek chorus. They explained the flight from Detroit, the view of lake Erie, they told stories of different passengers. One who had a job interview, one who was looking for an apartment, another who went to Palm Springs on vacation. They told the story of a bright light and a loud pop, and suddenly the engines were silent. The plane felt still, unmoving, and then the chorus all pantomimed the leaning, concerned gaze out airplane windows. Instead of tops of clouds or distant shapes of great lakes, though, they looked out and saw – children in a gymnasium. They heard the squeak of sneakers and the joyful cries of playful exercise. It felt like minutes, maybe a whole hour. They could not understand what they were seeing. They could not comprehend an elementary school gym six miles above southern Canada. But they were not six miles above southern Canada. They were only a few feet above the American Southwest, inside an airplane, inside an elementary school gymnasium, in a town called Night Vale. And as quickly as they had appeared there, they disappeared. Off the radar, gone from the skies, out of known existence. Throughout this chorus, the speakers filled our ears with the joyful shouts of children, the hollow metallic thumps of red rubber balls, and the collective panicked inhale of a 143 passengers and crew of a displaced plane, and then it was silent. And then it was dark.

A single green light appeared on the far wall, a dot, a blip. A radar blinking on, then off. And the voice of Doug Biondi said: “Weeeeeee are not passengers on a plane. Weeeee are actors. Weeee are inmates of the Asylum of Night Vale, but weeeee do not belong here. Weeee are people who know truths. People who know more than is allowed, and for that, weeeeeeeee are kept in cages. Weeeeeeee are fed poisoned pills and circular logic.” And at this point in the play, I felt movement in our small audience. The warden had stood up and was shouting: “This is not in the script, Doug!” But Doug spoke louder, faster. “Iiiii am not insane, I say! Only the insane would say such a thing they say. Then I am insane, I say. Yes you are, they say. I am trapped, I am framed, I spit out your poisoned pills! I reject your propagandist blather. I know what I know I say. Hold him down they say.” Warden Raynor had gone to the tech board and turned on all the lights. He shouted “code blue” into a radio receiver, and we saw half a dozen security officers in their green medal laden uniforms lurch from the corners of the room, penning the ensemble of inmates into a tight circle in the center. “Return them to their rooms,” the warden called.

But as the guards encroached, the three men from the NTSP stepped to the perimeter of the mass of inmates. They were holding little plastic wings just like those on the costumes of the actors playing flight attendants. One of the NTSP agents, the one with an unceasing nose bleed, opened the back of the wings, revealing a long sharp pin, and thrust it into the neck of a guard. Simultaneously, the other NTSP agents and several other actors did the same, and the guards fell to the ground. One of the NTSP agents, the one with a blister on his upper lip, grabbed the keys and weapons from an unconscious officer. “Dearest audience,” he said in verse. “We mean them no harm. ‘tis but a sleep, a little pharmaceutical rest for a uniformed guard who kept us confined, made life hard for us low level agents doing our jobs, trapped ‘neath the lies of a warden who robs our freedom and murders our spirit. At last we can go, approach the wall and clear it, but heed my warning: as we this coup fly, every man for himself, better run – or die.” And upon this last line, the alarm bells of the asylum rattled my ears and my nerves, shaking Carlos and me from our seats. The inmates scattered in every direction as Sheriff Sam and their officers gave chase. Carlos was nearly stepped on by one of the escapees, and as I bent to help him up, I was knocked over by two officers in full sprint.

When the commotion died down, I looked up and saw Erika still sitting calmly in their chair, and I asked: “Erika, what is happening?” Erika looked down at their playbill, and then back at me, and said: “I think it’s intermission.”

And now the weather.

[“One One Thousand” by Raina Rose rainarose.com]

After 15 minutes, Carlos and I returned to our seats hoping, but not truly believing it really was an intermission. We’ve seen immersive theater before, like “Sleep No More”, an interactive show in New York City where audience members are placed inside a huge warehouse of actors dancing out the plot to “Macbeth”, and at the end everyone is granted the ability to live out the rest of their lives without sleep. It’s expensive and not for everyone, but totally worth it if immersive theater is your thing. But this show was not that. No. “18713/NTSP” had gone wrong. Or, perhaps it had gone right. Under the strict critique of plot structure, character development, and production value, the play failed terribly. But as a piece of political or (agit prop) theater, it was a rousing success. The Sheriff’s Secret Police have placed roadblocks around the entire city, hoping to keep these supposedly dangerous inmates from leaving the area. It is bad optics, to say the least, for the entire population of the town’s asylum to escape custody.

But as Carlos and I left the theater space, we walked down the long corridors, cells and rooms open, no security detail in sight. In one of the cells, below a cot, was a journal. It was the journal of Doug Biondi. Page after page was filled with monologues, narratives and conversations from various people. People who were on a plane, people in transit between checkpoints of life, between relationships, between homes, between jobs, between vacation and work. These stories were written as verbatim dialogue, as if Doug Biandi had transcribed them himself. As if he could hear the voices of those very people. Like former air traffic controller Amelia Anna Alfaro. I wonder if Doug heard the same voices. The same passengers of the missing plane. I had my intern Seamus go down to the library and look up public records on Doug Biondi, hoping to find some connection between Doug and Amelia, but Seamus still has yet to return with that information . I even double checked my playbill looking for Amelia’s name in the cast or crew, but she was not listened here. She was likely never in the asylum.

One thing I did find, though, was a note in the back of Doug’s journal. This note seemed to be in Doug’s own voice. “They tell us we are kept here for our safety, but they keep us here for their safety. They fear what will happen when the people on that plane are found. But I think they have already been found. They should be afraid of what happens when the people on the plane find us.”

Night Vale is on lockdown, so stay home and stay safe, listeners. I do not believe any of us to be in danger from those who escaped the asylum, but I do believe us to be in danger of most everything else. Stay tuned next for a serious of audio clicks, which is definitely not federal agents tapping your radio. Don’t worry about it.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

[everettlance]

if i am to fight; bloodbath self-para

Blinding bright light blots out the landscape as the platform rises. For a moment my surroundings do not exist and I’m alone. A mistake has been made.

They’ve forgotten to make an Arena. They’ll send us all back to the Tower now until they sort it out. Another day to train, to lay in bed with Orpheus, to sneak out with Isa, to argue with Delta, another day before all of this starts.

My vision clears as blood rushes from my head and I am for a moment floating. Things are in view. At first I see a nearly-empty landscape: scrubs dot the dirt; in the distance I can see mountains, a forest in the other direction. Closer by are weapons I hardly recognize. They all seem old, no metal, nothing modern that I’m used to. Not far away sits a small white knife -- what looks like a knife. I could get to it. Wind whips my face, the only part of me exposed. I wait for the countdown to begin.

It does not. It’s silent. My ears ring. This feeling in my stomach, familiar from watching this on screen. I’m rooting for the tributes from Two, always, but if they don’t win I don’t mind too much. Someone always wins, and it’s nice to guess who it will be. Here, now: do I guess myself?

48 seconds before the Games

I should have a plan. I should be cataloging and formulating and making my brain like a sheet of paper: emotionless, filled with calculations, but my family is watching. They’re in Two, not so far, or maybe it is. Where am I? My brothers. My parents. Maverick is watching, this should be him, I should be him, Orpheus is in the Tower, is he watching, is he talking to Sponsors, is he drinking, is he reading, is he sleeping? Another world.

A swallow; a squared jaw. No fear. I am in a massive play. I have never seen a play. I have never been an actor. I have never had a watched face. My history is short. The collective breath on my neck. The Reaping. The chariot parade. The grainy photo on gloss. The interview. This is my history. I turn the page. I read ahead.

23 seconds before the Games

I try to find Delta. Where is she? She’s across the circle. She’s not looking. Her head is turned. She will run away. She must run away, she has to run away. She’s turning the page.

0 seconds before the Games

A gong sounds. It’s eerie across the landscape in front of me. I don’t see when Delta disappears but when I look around I cannot find her.

I’m running. I’m running. Am I fast? I have never been fast. Am I alive? I have never been dead. 

Someone. I’m on the ground. I kick. Ariadne: I knee the other boy in his groin. I know his name as my brain recognizes any object, a blade of grass or a piece of cake, and as Carlos withdraws I roll onto him. I have no weapon. This is best. The fight is fair. The dagger is on the ground next to us, strange-looking, and I use my elbow to push it away, out of his grasp if he were to get his arms free.

283,824,000 seconds before the Games (or, 9 years earlier)

“I’m going to end you, Evy!” Everett hated being called that and his siblings insisted on it. Especially Jasper, who was the one Everett had just hit with a ball. It was the first day of the 109th Games. But the broadcast had yet to start and here, in Two, safe from the Reaping, they were playing a game they’d made up, the rules of which were in constant flux, in the empty lot a few blocks from home. It was just the two of them; no witnesses, though Everett looked around wildly to see if there was anyone who could come save him. It was not a brave thing to do.

Jasper was already running toward him and he could either stand his ground or run away. If he ran, he’d be a sissy, and the nickname Evy would be stuck with him forever, officially, in the eyes of just about everyone in the district, he was certain, and it would definitely follow him to the Academy.

But if he didn’t run he’d get the shit beaten out of him. He was eleven and tiny, still waiting on his growth spurt. He’d start at the Peacekeeper Academy in just a few months but for now he was helpless to fifteen-year-old Jasper, whose growth spurt had given him a foot on Everett. He’d been at the Academy for almost four years now, and knew how to fight from both official training and run-ins with the other students, all future Peacekeepers. Everett knew he’d be arriving with a family name to uphold.

He stood his ground, in the end, tiny hands balled into fists, and Jasper tackled him to the ground, gave him two black eyes, and made him swear not to tell their parents that it was him who did it, or else he’d castrate him – a concept that Everett was very familiar with thanks to Jasper’s previous (and specific) threats.

Limping home that day behind Jasper he swore that next time he’d be able to defend himself. He wouldn’t just be a plaything for older kids his whole life. When he got to the Academy he’d already know how to fight, he’d show everyone that he was strong and he could beat up anybody he wanted. He’d show them that he had what it took.

30 seconds after the start of the Games

I dig my knee into the center of Carlos’s chest, wrap my hands around his neck. I wait. I wait. I wait. He thrashes and fights, but his brain, his muscles, are getting less air than they should; he is helpless to his death, as I feel helpless to it all. There’s no blood in this death. He dies into a stillness.

Another is coming for me. I see her from the corner of my eye.

Grab the dagger. Shut down. Get up.

Run towards the girl. She is stopping. She is turning. She’s afraid, she sees the newly-dead body, she is not so fast. She does not have the adrenaline of the kill.

The dagger isn’t as sharp as the knives in the training center. It will do the job if I make it do the job. A tool is a tool. Anything is a weapon.

I have her on the ground. I dig the tip into the vein that Orpheus has shown me. I miss at first. I try again. The tool is blunt. I get the tip under the skin. Orpheus was right. There is so much blood. It is all over my hand, the dagger, her neck and face. She stills, too, and everyone dies into stillness, I will learn.

Get up. Wipe the blood off. Look around. There will be a camera somewhere. Who is watching this? Everyone is watching this.

I’ll show them that I have what it takes.