#but still this is a weird marketing strategy

[lordgeneralsix]

is it just me or is bioware spoiling way too much about the game . talking about gameplay improvements is one thing but revealing story and companion arcs seems very insecure to me bc now the mystery is gone when people play for the first time . seems like they're trying too hard to prove that their game isn't garbage after that first trailer but this is not how you do that

[no-144444]

the grid: confesses!

Day 30 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Daniel Riccardo, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar Piastri: someone is dense…

Your dad was busy showing you the strategy plan, one of the many perks of being Zak Brown’s daughter. You’d been working in the paddock for over a year, working as one of Lando’s main mechanics, but your dad still liked to show you the plan for the day. He would’ve probably preferred you to be into the marketing / strategy side of F1 since there’s less of a chance of you getting run over in the pitlane if you’re not in the pitlane, but the heart wants what the heart wants and it wanted to be a mechanic, more specifically, a front jackman. 

“Y/n!” Lando all but jumped on your back. “Osc wants to talk to you.”

Oscar Piastri. You had been flirting with him for months. A week ago you gave up and stopped, just being friendly with him instead, since he clearly wasn’t interested. 

“Where is he?” you asked, shoving him off your back. 

“Driver’s room,” he shrugged. “Where else would he be?”

Oscar was a very big fan of sleeping in his driver’s room before a race, of course he’d be in there. 

You made your way to the McLaren motorhome and knocked on his door. He opened it, looking flushed and shirtless. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“I did- do. I do,” he nodded awkwardly. “Come in,” he opened the door enough for you to come in. 

“Thank you,” you said, trying to not stare at him too hard. “What’s up?”

“Are you mad at me?” he asked immediately. 

You were taken aback, shocked that Oscar would ever be that direct. “No, why?”

“You’ve been… weird this week.” 

“Oh! That!” you chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve just stopped flirting with you.”

His face fell. “What?”

“I stopped flirting with you?” you answered again. 

“W-why? When were you flirting with me?” he asked, looking increasingly stressed. 

“Why what? Why was I flirting with you?” You questioned. “Because I have a crush on you. I’ve been flirting with you since my first day.” 

He sighed and put his face in his hands.

“You haven’t exactly reciprocated so I stopped. I just kind of assumed that you weren’t interested, which is fine, by the way,” you explained. “We’re great friends, I’m happy with that.”

“I’m so fucking dense,” he cursed. 

You chuckled. “What?”

“I obviously like you back,” he looked back up. “I thought you were just being nice.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, I’m just as nice and touchy with Lando, of course,” you said sarcastically. “You really are dense.” 

He shook his head. “I haven’t completely fucked this up yet, have I?”

You shook your head. “No,” you pressed your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Not yet.” 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you,” he pressed his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses there. You chuckled. What a dork. 

Your dork. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lando Norris: years of pining… 

He watched as you once again, came in from a date crying. You two had lived together since you’d finished college and moved to Monaco to start your new job (and be closer to Lando), and he watched as you tried and failed with the Monaco dating scene. 

“I fucking hate men!” you cried as he held you in his arms. It had gone the same way it had all the other times, you’d come in crying, Lando would sit with you and order food, holding you and listening as you vented about this asshole guy. Honestly, it made him want to hunt them down and kill them with his bare hands, but he settled for being the kind best friend, biding his time until he could finally tell you. 

“We suck,” he chuckled, agreeing. 

“I just want a fucking normal, nice guy. Is that too much to ask for?” you groaned in frustration. 

“Well, I’m right here,” he mumbled before he could stop himself. You were silent. He was silent. You both froze. The air in the room was much too thick. 

“You mean that?” you asked, your eyes wide and staring into his. He nodded, too nervous to verbally respond. 

“What guy wouldn’t? You’re perfect,” he finally whispered out. He felt how your heart beat sped up. 

Then your lips were on his and he knew he was a goner. 

You were perfect. And now, you were his. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lewis Hamilton: eavesdropping…

“I’m fucking in love with her, and she doesn’t even look my way,” Lewis groaned, laying back on the couch. 

Never in a million years did George ever think that he’d be sitting in his hero’s drivers room with him, giving him relationship advice. 

“She looks at you plenty,” he shrugged. “But she’s usually giving out to you.”

Lewis shot him an unimpressed look. “Thanks.” 

George laughed. “Just ask her out!”

Lewis groaned again. Y/n Wolff. Toto’s princess. You were untouchable. You were a genius. You were beautiful, inside and out. “She hates me.”

“I don’t,” you said plainly. 

Both of the men shot straight up, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“I actually quite like you Lewis,” you added with a smile. “You should try asking me out sometime.” 

George did everything in his power to not laugh, but he failed and burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

Lewis just nodded, much too embarrassed to speak. 

“My dad wants you George,” you told him, actually fulfilling the reason you had come to their drivers rooms. “See you both on the grid.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

George Russell: upfront 

George stood awkwardly at your door. He was finally going to do it, he was going to ask you out.

“George!” you smiled, pulling him into a hug. “You’re back.”

George was your neighbour, a very kind neighbour. He was obsessed with you. You were so kind, so funny, so beautiful. He had befriended you out of pure friendliness, he wanted to be a good neighbour (and he was on the HOA (Home Owners Association) of the building). Those quick conversations in the hall had turned into a monthly dinner night, and small dinner dates whenever he was in Monaco. 

“I am,” he smiled, hugging you back. 

You led him in, the smell of your cooking already making him salivate, but he had a question to ask first. 

“I’d like to take you out on a date sometime. A real date,” he said confidently, though he didn’t feel like it.

Your face broke out into a bright smile. “I’d like that too.”

He smiled. “Good.”

“Good.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Alex Albon: awkward blind date…

You sat across from Tucker, the guy your friend was ‘so sure’ you’d be interested in, with a shocked expression. There was no way he actually said what he just said, right? 

“Y’know what I mean?” he chuckled at his own ‘joke’. 

“No. I don’t,” you gritted out. “I think I’m going to go now, please don’t call me.” 

You got up to leave, but he grabbed your arm, stopping you. 

“Where would you be going?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. 

“Get off her,” a British voice demanded. Behind you were now 3 men, the 3 men you had begged to not stalk your date, but now you were pretty happy they were there. Behind you stood Alex, George, and Fernando. 

“And what are you going to do about it? She’s my girlfriend-”

“No I’m fucking not,” you seethed. “Get off me, prick,” you elbowed him in the face and got your arm free, speeding out of the restaurant and handing the waitress a large tip. You turned to the 3 men, scoffed and started walking off down the street. 

Alex followed behind you as George and Fernando hung back. 

“I know you’re mad-” he started. 

“Yeah Alex! I’m fucking pissed! I ask you to leave me alone for fucking once. To trust me once. And you can’t even do that!” you shouted. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Y/n, you don’t understand-”

“Understand what?!” you shouted, finally stopping in the street. “Understand that you don’t trust me-?!”

“That I’m in love with you!” he shouted. 

You froze. “If you’re joking-”

“Why the fuck would I joke about that?” 

You nodded. “It would be a pretty shitty thing to joke about.”

“I’m not joking!”

“I know!” you chuckled. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

He blushed. “I…”

He gave up and kissed you again. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Daniel Riccardo: drunk. He’s drunk. 

You somehow got him into his own bed, but, as per usual, he started begging you to join him, calling you his ‘personal teddy bear’. 

“Y/N!” he whined. “I’m hot!” 

“Take off the covers,” you instructed, chuckling at his drunken state. 

“You want me to take off my clothes?” he smirked as you rolled your eyes.

“Daniel,” you warned. 

“Y/n,” he matched your tone. “Come on! We’d be so hot together! You’re gorgeous and smart and you look really good when you roll your eyes, and I always make you roll your eyes! It’s a win-win!” 

You chuckled. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m in love!” he corrected. “Come on baby, give me a chance.”

You couldn’t even tell if he was joking anymore. “We’ll talk in the morning.” 

“And I can kiss you now,” he decided and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You couldn’t taste any alcohol on him. None at all. 

“You liar!” you pulled away, laughing. He laughed too, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I needed to gauge your reaction,” he laughed. “Seems to me you agree.” 

You shook your head, laughing, but kissed him again all the same. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Charles LeClerc: quite the charmer (not). 

You rolled your eyes as Charles walked into the room. He was such a charmer. That’s what your mother called him anyway. Being the sister of Carlos Sainz, you grew up in the shadows which meant you were always a little different from your family. The main point being the fact that you drove on 2 wheels instead of 4, like everyone else. A MotoGP winner, that’s what you were. And as much as your parents pretended to like it, you know they would’ve preferred you pick a safer mode of racing, like horse racing or something boring. 

“Y/n!” Charles cheered. 

And then there was the Charles problem. Your parents were set on the idea of Charles LeClerc having a crush on you, and you having a crush on him. You thought he was nice, good looking enough, and kind, but you didn’t like like him, did you? No. Definitely not. And him like liking you back? Impossible. 

“Charles!” your mother smiled. “It’s so good to see you!”

He exchanged pleasantries with her for a few moments, then finally turned his attention to you. 

“Y/n, how are you?” he smiled. 

“Good thanks, you?” you asked, your tone short. 

“Good. I was wondering if we could talk,” he nervously fidgeted with his hands. 

“We are talking,” you pointed out. 

He rolled his eyes. “Somewhere private.” 

“Ok?” you questioned, following him to his drivers room. 

“I like you a lot, like, a lot, a lot, but Carlos will never ever let me ask you out. I just wanted to tell you just so you know why I am stand-off-ish. It is because of-” 

He stopped talking because you had started kissing him. Maybe you did like him… just a little bit. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Max Verstappen: upfront, awkward, unapologetic. 

Y’know those people that just never learnt manners or social cues? Yeah, that was Max. Your friends had looked at you in horror when you brought him into the group, shocked that you’d ever start a friendship with someone as awkward and socially unintelligent as him. It’s not that Max wasn’t social intelligent, he just didn’t give a fuck. If one of your other guy-friends (the ones that all thought they had a chance with you) starts talking or (god-forbid) touching you? Max is in there, getting between you two as soon as humanly possible. He clings to you like a fucking leech, and makes sure the others know it. 

When you told them he had asked you out, not one of the girls was surprised. Of course, you’d said yes, and of course, you were ecstatic. 

At the next get-together, Brad (one of your asshole guy-friends) asked him how he did it. 

“I just asked her,” he gritted out. “She said yes, I took her out and we’ve been together since.” 

Brad shook his head, chuckling. “She’s not easy to pin down.” 

“She is when she wants you,” he smirked, making eye contact with you out on the dance floor. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi@linnygirl09@lanadelray1989@teamnovalak@gleeblegnarp

[devilish-cherry]

ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot

"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."

꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 2 ꒱

ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!

The café always smelled like burnt espresso and despair.

This was, of course, not part of the marketing strategy. Just the natural consequence of a workplace where half the employees hated their jobs, the other half hated their lives, and you were a proud member of both categories.

The café wasn’t anything special. It was only a small, cozy place wedged between a laundromat and an even smaller bookstore that no one ever seemed to enter. It had decent coffee, passable pastries, and an espresso machine that made a sound like it was summoning demons every time it started up.

The morning rush had been a disaster, as usual. Some guy had ordered a "triple ristretto oat milk cortado with a whisper of cinnamon," and you'd fought the primal urge to ask if he wanted a therapy session with that. Then there was the woman who had stared at the menu for ten full minutes, only to proudly order "just a water" like she had done something revolutionary.

Like, sure, working at a café wasn’t the worst job in the world—there were no life-threatening situations (except for that one time Greg the Manager almost set the espresso machine on fire), and the pay was just enough to keep you from selling your left kidney. But there was something deeply soul-crushing about having to ask, “Would you like oat milk with that?” to people who wouldn’t hesitate to commit war crimes if you got their order wrong.

Still, you endured. Mostly because rent existed.

Now, with the lull between rushes, you were enjoying a rare moment of peace. There was only one customer in the shop: a guy sitting at the back, writing something aggressively in a notebook, occasionally stopping to stare into the distance like he was the main character in a tragic novel. You respected the drama.

Then the door opened, and you instinctively pasted on your Customer Service Smile™.

Two guys walked in. The first was a teenager with pink hair and a face that screamed "golden retriever in human form." He looked energetic, friendly, and like he’d never had a bad day in his life. He was smiling in a way that suggested he was either extremely friendly or about to ask if you had time to talk about your car’s extended warranty.

The second guy, though. Oh wow.

He was taller, older-looking, and had long black hair tied into pigtails. He walked in like a broken NPC. His movements were a little too stiff, like he was buffering between each step. Like he was following some kind of invisible instruction manual on "How to Act Like a Normal Person in a Café."

And was failing miserably.

His face was blank, aside from the faintly confused look in his brown eyes, and there was something weirdly intense about the way he stood there, as if he was waiting for someone to give him a quest.

You watched as the pink-haired guy - who had clearly dragged his companion here against his will - led them to the counter, grinning.

"Hello! Welcome to-" You trailed off when you saw the pink-haired one aggressively whispering something to his friend while gesturing toward the menu.

Pigtails nodded, his expression not changing even a little. "Understood. I will engage in an order transaction."

What.

Pinkie sighed. "Okay, man, just-just order like a normal person, alright?"

Pigtails turned to you. The eye contact was... unsettling. Not in a creepy way, but in a why does it feel like this man has never spoken to another human before way.

"Hello," he said, very seriously.

"...Hi."

"I am Choso. I would like a drink."

You blinked. "Uh. Yeah. That’s usually how this works."

Choso nodded slowly. Pinkie looked like he wanted to die.

"I will take... one coffee," Choso said, after a long pause.

Your deadpan stare could’ve rivaled the sun in intensity. "What kind of coffee?"

Choso blinked, staring at you like you had just explained quantum physics. Maybe he really wasn’t used to human interaction. Either way, it was kind of hilarious. "A normal coffee."

"There are a lot of normal coffees."

Choso looked at Pinkie, who was now staring at the ceiling like he was regretting every choice that had led him here. "Brother. What is a normal coffee?"

Pinkie groaned. "I told you, just say ‘latte' or a 'cappuccino.’"

"Latte or a cappuccino," Choso repeated, nodding.

"...Do you want latte or a cappuccino?" you asked. keeping your voice professionally neutral despite the immediate urge to start laughing.

Another long pause. Choso looked at Pinkie again. "Brother. Which one do I want?"

Pinkie ran a hand down his face. "Latte."

Choso turned back to you, face grave. "Latte."

You stared at him for a long moment, then pressed the button on the register. "Got it. One latte."

Pinkie, who you were now convinced was the only reason Choso had not accidentally wandered into traffic, exhaled like he’d just survived a war. "And I’ll take a cappuccino under Yuji, please!"

"Coming right up," you said, grabbing a cup.

As you worked on their drinks, you could feel Choso’s stare drilling into the back of your head. You stole a glance over your shoulder and, yep. There he was. Watching. Completely expressionless.

Yuji was whispering frantically. "Dude, stop staring, it’s weird."

"I am observing the coffee-making process," Choso replied.

"You’re making them uncomfortable."

Choso frowned. "I do not wish to cause discomfort."

"Then stop staring."

A pause. "Understood."

He pulled Choso toward a table by the window, where Choso sat so rigidly that it looked like he was about to be interrogated by the FBI. Yuji, in contrast, had already pulled out his phone and was scrolling through something with the casual ease of a person who had never been socially awkward in his life.

You caught Choso glancing around the shop, his brows slightly furrowed, like he was still adjusting to the idea of being here. The more you watched him, the more he reminded you of a stray cat—tense, a little lost, and not entirely sure whether he wanted to trust anyone.

Shaking your head, you set about making their drinks. It wasn’t until you brought them over that you noticed Choso still hadn’t moved from his original rigid sitting position. You slid his drink in front of him and waited, curious to see how this played out.

He stared at the cup. Slowly, his eyes lifted back to you. “What is this?”

You stared back. “Your latte.”

Choso blinked again. “Do I drink it?”

Yuji nearly choked on his cappuccino. “Of course you drink it! What else would you do with it?!”

Choso, apparently, had to think about that.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Yes, it’s for drinking. But if you’d rather throw it on the floor, I won’t stop you.”

Choso took a long, considering pause before, finally, picking up the cup. He took a careful sip.

Then froze.

Yuji leaned forward. “You like it?”

Choso’s fingers curled around the cup, his blank face shifting just slightly, eyes widening, shoulders lowering. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked… moved.

"Brother. This is satisfactory." he murmured, almost reverently.

Yuji pumped his fist. “See? Told you you’d like it!”

Choso looked at you. "Barista. This is satisfactory."

"Uh. Thanks."

Choso nodded solemnly, like you had just exchanged some kind of sacred vow.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist the urge to ask. “You’ve never had a latte before?”

Choso shook his head.

Yuji sighed. “He’s been missing out on a lot of stuff.”

That much was obvious.

Still, you watched as Choso took another sip, eyes half-lidding as he savored it. For someone who barely seemed present in his own body, he was taking this latte very seriously. It was almost kind of… cute? In a weird, vaguely unsettling way?

You shook off the thought, taking your place back behind the counter. Missing out on a lot of stuff though? What did that even mean exactly? Had he been living under a rock? In the mountains? Was he raised by wolves? Should you be concerned?

When they finally left, Yuji waved cheerfully. "Thanks for the drinks! We’ll be back soon!"  

Choso paused at the door, looking at you like he was trying to process something. Then, after a long moment, he gave a slow, awkward nod.  

“Farewell, barista.”  

With that, they were both gone, Yuji chattering on about who-knows-what while Choso followed, silent and looming.

You let out a breath.

What the hell was that?

[buttholesparkles]

What!? Meeeee?~ Smoking??! This is soup in my pipe!

(Open pic for better quality (pls))

More info:

♡ Maeve is easygoing and fun to be around, but if you get on her nerves or annoy her, she will get really defensive and will annoy you 10 times more back.

♡ She comes from a family of performers who own a circus; on summer vacations, she often goes and plays as a clown, making some extra cash.

♡ Her family HATES Playful Land for their weird way of giving out tickets and all that (horrible marketing strategy!) And somehow they still seem to make around the same money! While they work their butt off, they get money from selling like what? 10 tickets per week?!

♡ Lets just say Maeve was the biggest spy in the Playful Land event.

♡ Biggest chaotic neutral prankster to exist.

♡ She in a romantic relationship with Che'nya. When they first got together she practiced saying his full name so much.

♡ Maeve often snicks out of NRC to see Che'nya and he does the same for her.

♡ Maeve gets collared by Riddle twice a week for snicking out and for the pranks she always pulls on...anybody...nobody is safe.

♡ Maeve, Riddle, Che'nya, and Trey are childhood friends.

Relationships:

Pngs:

[blerb-f1]

"Documents" - Max Verstappen x NB!Reader

Max finds himself working on Documents for someone.

For more FanFiction, find my Masterlist here

A loud Yawn escaped from Max Verstappens Throat as he pushed open the doors to the Red Bull Hospitality. He was supposed to meet his race engineer Gianpiero Lambiase, Short GP to talk about some Ideas the Team had regarding the Car’s Performance.

Apparently his frequent complaints had finally gotten on everyones nerves, motivating them to finally get working. Simply Lovely.

As his Eyes passed over the long dining room, he spotted GP carrying mugs. Three specifically. ‘Why Three?’, Max wondered but not too long, as the question answered itself immediately afterwards.

The Table GP was carrying the mugs too, also seated a third person. Their head was hung low over the table, cheeks touching a stack of big folders. He approached the Table with another yawn escaping his throat.

“Good Morning Max”, GP called out cheerfully. Way too cheerfully for such an early morning. (It was 11AM). He placed the Mug on a little paper towel to prevent marks forming on the table while trying to navigate around the third person. Max just gave them a confused look before blowing at the coffee to cool down.

As if reading his mind, GP spoke:” Ah, I totally forgot to inform you, Max. That’s Y/N, our Intern. They’ll be here for a few races.” He wanted to continue speaking but a short check of his watch alarmed him. “Sorry Max, I got a meeting! Please entertain Y/N for a bit!”. If this were an Anime, a big gust of wind would be left behind, with the speed he fled in.

Y/N flipped their head to the other side, bloodshot eyes staring in his. A quiet voice escaped:” Hi Max. As GP said, I’m Y/N.”

He gave their mug a push, shoving it close to their nose. “What got you so tired, Y/N?”

“Coffee!”, they exclaimed like a Zombie, quickly drowning some of the steaming, way too hot, liquid. After trying to cool off their burned tongue for a moment, they continued speaking.

“My internship stuff, the usual. I didn’t do my reports of the last few weeks so I spent the night doing them, Ugh…”

The driver just looked them up and down while mustering the stacked folders. “Aren’t interns  younger, normally?”

Y/N sighed. “Nope, this is not a school internship. I go to university, getting my Bacherlor’s in Sport Science and Management. Just didn’t expect to get this spot so I kept lazing around. Suddenly, Boom. E-Mail from Red Bull telling me I got accepted.”

His Team was doing Internships? That was pretty new to Max. He didn’t remember ever being told about that or seeing young, overly excited people scurry behind Team members. But apparently this one was fully endorsed since GP accompanied them. Was accompanying them. Weird.

“And now? URGH”, their groan was louder than before. “Why do all these tasks need me to write endless reports. Can’t even concentrate on my shiny Internship now…”

“If you had done your work earlier, you would have been able to concentrate on it…”

“Shush, as if anyone does their work early.”

“True.” Mental images of still to be paid pills, car maintenance and appointments fluttered through his mind. “No big difference here.”

“See?”, they asked, fully sitting up now. “Who even does that?”

Max chuckled. “Definitly not GP. He’s always late with everything. Like telling someone about the new Intern.”

Y/N led out a Gasp. “That’s why nobody expected me!”

They scurried to fling open their folder of work. “What got you so tired though? I don’t expect it to be paperwork.”

A sense of guilt overcame his mind.

Max loved Racing. A lot. The strategy, the mind games, the Developmental parts. But the marketing and whatnot? He’d be glad if they weren’t a thing but was aware they were a major part. He knew how to behave unlike some other driver when faced with Media Responsibilities. At least most of the time. He knew, Angry Max wasn’t nice-to-be-around Max.

That’s what got him into SimRacing. Spending all night in front of the screen, in a Call with his Mates. And just this evening, a large competition had held him up. Maybe 3 hours of sleep were trying their best to keep him standing. 

Y/N waited for him to answer, yet no response came. They laughed. “Don’t say it was Gaming. Really?”

Max stayed silent. 

“Media keeps saying that the simulators got your ass hooked, line and sinker. Didn’t expect that to this degree. Well, you do you.” They fumbled around their pencil case. “Because i gotta finish, really now.”

As they procured a little IKEA Pencil, Max just lost it. The sleep deprivation had lowered his limits and the visual of this teeny tiny pen had gotten him belly laughing and table with fist smacking. His tablemate just pouted at that, trying their hardest to work through the loud laughs. As he finally came to stop, little tears were streaming down his face. 

Wiping them away, an Offer came: “I could help you”

That’s how GP, tired of a large meeting with major Red Bull Staff, returned to the dining room to find his new intern and his driver seated at a round table holding little Ikea pencils. Mugs upon mugs were stacked in towers next to them, akin to the neatly stacked towers of paper and folders that they had their faces planted on. Both were sleeping deeply, lips curled into smiles. He wondered, how exactly should he report that to the Intern’s supervisor? Maybe just not at all. That sounded more tiring than lying through gritted teeth.

Instead, he tried to clean up around them and pretend nothing of the sort had happened. GP was well aware that Helmut Marko would not be approving of his talent working with those lower than him, so no need to unnecessarily awake a sleeping dragon. If he could call a guy that age a dragon at all…

While trying to carry away the stack of mugs, however, the porcelain let out a loud, high pitched noise as it collided with another. GP reacted with gentil shock, causing everything to come tumbling down.

Loud shattering noises sounded out, awakening the driver and the Intern from their slumber. Max slowly laid his eyes open, blinking once, blinking twice. He would not be hurried, who even would dare to do so, knowing his temper? Taking the time of his life, he yawned loudly. Both arms stretched high, his legs low, just akin to a cat as he finally awoke, blinking at GP. The intern meanwhile, did not awake that softly. With the loud noise, they immediately jumped into the air like a scared crow. This speedy move caused the sorted papers to fly in the air, fluttering around in a manner that was sure to mix up everything as much as physically possible. As last ditch effort to even topple this, they managed to bang their knee against the table, yelping out in pain. They slowly fell to the ground, holding their brused knee in an ocean of broken mugs, mixed papers and coffee stains.

Max didn't say anything, there clearly was no need to do so. Instead, he also got on the ground, slowly helping to collect the flung about pages to sort into neat little stacks while the intern was wiggling about like a worm. Their wide sleeved shirt looked like fluffy antenna's as they managed to now smash their head against the table, holding it in pain. Max pushed the table aside, grabbing the Intern by their arm and helping them up. Gently, he placed them on their previously occupied chair, crossing his arms.

Gianpiero Lambiase stood aside, his chin just dipping lower and lower. What had he done?

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

That evening, Max Verstappen found himself seated in his hotel room, staring at the computer he'd brought with him. The monitor was flickering in it's usual blue light, slightly off colours that had him feel more at home. Yet, he didn't feel the urge to start up a game. To play another round of Asetto Corsa with his mates or to join a competition in iRacing. This confused him. His normal routine was broken, occupied by thoughts of that Intern. Their voice as they screamed out in pain, their scrunched up face while wiggling about. He sadly didn't have the time to look after them as GP, obviously too late once again, informed him that the FIA wanted to brief the driver's on something. As one would expect, the meeting was not very fruitful. It was a stark reminder by the FIA to not engage with sponsors or media accounts talking about things the FIA didn't like. The usual, therefore. Max decided to catch up on sleep during it, which is why he was so awake now. He dreamt off warnings about politics, ongoings military conflicts and people bumping their head against tables. 

…

People bumping their head against tables?

‘Maybe Y/N is awake still?’, he asked himself. He was pretty sure the Intern still had a lot of work to do, if not just sorting through the files they had filled out after the stacks fell from the table. Propably also had to read them over, to check if everything was fine. Maybe also to make sure they knew what was written, if asked about it. At least, that's what Max was told Internships were like, not that he'd have Experience with them. His future was been designated before his birth, nothing to choose on his own. Well, maybe the colour of his first racing helmet?

He reclined on the armchair, drinking some of the overpriced Hotel water.

Did Y/N have to worry about the Water's Price? Most likely, he'd heard GP complain about it. They were sure to earn much less than him. But they could pick their own lane, he realised. He absolutely loved racing to his bones but sometimes he wondered. Would Life have different directions for him? He wasn't sure if that was something he should be thinking off, at all. Racing was his life now, nothing would change that. Afterall, not everyone even had the luck to get into racing since the sport is so expensive.

He sighed again, looking through the contacts on his phone. While he was sure not to have Y/Ns Number, GP definitely must have it.

Max dialed.

GP answered, sounding very tired. He could picture the tired, red eyes staring at the phone.

“Max, it's 2AM, what do you need?”

“Y/Ns phone number, please.”

GP sighed before rattling it off. As he read out the last digit, Max could hear his blanket rustle. He was already tucked in, not even saying goodbye as the call ended.

‘Man’s pretty tired’ Max thought to himself as he typed Y/N’s number into his phone.

It rang. Once. Twice. It didn't get to the third time as a wary voice rang through the speaker.

“Who's there?”, they sounded a little drowsy and careful.

“Hi, it's me, Max Verstappen. Sorry to call you this late… Or early?”

A fragmented chuckle rang through.

“Good Evening Max, I'm still working.”

As he thought.

“The document's?”

“Pretty much. I was about to head to the Convenience Store to get some food, you want to join me?”

“Sure.” He felt a bit Hungry. What even was the last time he ate? 

Shortly after, he found himself standing in front of a Convenienve Store, fiddling with his room keys. He forgot his phone in the hotel room, so that left him with no clue of when Y/N was sure to approach.

Their arrival announced itself, however. Y/N walked in the distance, the hood of their sweater pulled onto their head. They spoke, sounding very agitated. 

Max stared at the person next to them, quite startled as he heard them scream something. The person, a man about his height, stretched their arm out as if to touch Y/N and grab their bag but did not succeed. Before he could even touch them, Y/N had somehow grabbed him and flung over his shoulder. He landed face first on the ground, Y/N pressing their knee into his back.

“Don't you dare try something like that again!”, they called out. Their line of sight swept over to Max, spotting him. “Could you call the police?”

He was startled again. “Sorry forgot my phone.”

Quickly fishing around in their pocket, Y/N produced their phone and flung it to Max, Hands holding the man’s shoulder down.

It didn't take long for the police to arrive, Siren's blaring. Max pulled the cap he quickly bought it the convenience store deeper, trying to hide his appearance from curious onlookers. Meanwhile Y/N had handed the guy over to the police. The police man was surprised as he arrived, not even questioning how they could do this. “He tried to grab my Butt on the Bus!”, they exclaimed. “Then attempted to pull off my hood. I told him, the camera's on the bus were recording and that I'd Inform the police. He followed me from there”

The Policeman nodded again, taking their identity information before looking at Max shortly, clearly recognising him. “I presume we should keep this silent?”

Max nodded, watching the car drive off with one less creep running free.

Y/N stood next to him, dusting their clothes off. Max offered them a tissue to clean their hands which they gladly took. 

“That was impressive.”, he stated. “I've never seen a guy go flying like that.”

Y/N grinned. “Thanks, I do a lot of combat sports. Never thought I'd be able to use them in public though…”

“Good you trained then”. Max chuckled. “Remind me to not anger you again. I don't want to get punched.”

Y/N shook their head. “I don't unnecessarily touch people. You don't have to be scared. Not stopping you if you want to be, though!”

They silently entered the convenience store, browsing. Max had picked some instant noodles which he prepared with the provided hot water, Y/N had gotten some sandwiches and snacks. Something green? Papery looking. 

“That's Seaweed”, Y/N mouthed before hungrily biting down.

He not-do-silently slurped the instant noodles, warmth hitting his stomach. He felt content, like a cat. He wanted to stretch himself and lay on the soft carpet that you'd find before a fireplace. The perfect life.

As Y/N finished stuffing themselves with food, they also stretched out. With their foot hitting the table, they let out a losu yelp.

Max looked downy seeing them hold their foot.

“I sprained my foot yesterday in my room.” They exclaimed, face contorned as they remembered the stinging pain.

“You keep getting hurt or hurting yourself.”, he realised. 

They let out a sad sounding laugh. “Kinda, yeah..”

“You should stop that. Have you tried not hurting yourself?”

Now they were pouting. “Thanks, Doctor. That's real helpful advice here. Anything else?”

Max pondered that. “Maybe drink some water if you're feeling thirsty?”

Y/N reclined on their chair. “WOW, Live-changing. Thank you so much!”

As they got up to chuck the food wrappers in the trash, Max blurted out his thoughts: “I brought my computer with me. Interested to play a round of Asetto Corso?”

“Is that how you invite people to your Room? You should work on your pick-up lines then.”

He scowled. “No I-”

‘He’s quite awkward’, Y/N thought.

“I get what you're trying to say. Gotta finish my work though, Sorry Max. I'll see you tomorrow?”

Max was quite breathless now. “..Yeah. Till Tomorrow!”

As Y/N left, they turned around a last time. “Nice hat you got there! Suits you, Mate!”

He quickly fumbled the hat off, staring at what the hell he'd bought. It said “I'm a saucy boy!”

What the hell did that even mean?

[intergalacticsouvenirs]

From Romans to Rectums: Thoughts on the Naming Convention in Mad Max

I think it’s fascinating how that meme about how often men think about the roman empire is materialized in the mad max world in different forms, but especially in their bastardized-latin naming convention. In my mind, it appears that post apocalyptic warlords were aware that modern society looked up to the roman empire, but they didn’t quite understand how the romans influenced us exactly. Nevertheless, the warlords (or their history men) did have access to niche knowledge such as ancient roman military strategy, enough to inspire the imperator and praetorian warrior position names. It’s as if the first history men did not keep any pre modern history on their skins, so they had to reduce the entire roman empire into fragments of ideals (for oral tradition). Such fragments of ideals would combine in weird ways to inspire these war-men to write the most beautifully grotesque poems that are their names.

In a world where words have more power, names are more than just biographical micro-poems, they are multi-used as tools as well. They could be guns pointed to your face like “People Eater” and “Toe-Cutter”, a quality seal of approval on a product like “Capable” and “Splendid”, an aggressive dog warning sign like “Furiosa” and “Mad Max”, and even a prayer amulet as in “Corpus Colossus”.

As a trend among warlords, a wacky wrestling stage name is a must for a strong branding. After all, the ferocious marketing of late capitalism and show business did not die with the atomic bomb, but rather thrived, mutated, and embraced nature, believe it or not. Darwin’s nature, not you tree-huggers’ nature.

The names of the two capable immortan brothers Rictus Erectus and Scabrous Scrotus reveal the real underlying obsession of all men: the penis. The penis is the axis mundi around which all revolves in the (mad max) world. But more than just about sex, the penis cult is about finding strength and courage in a hypermasculine god to mentally survive in a hypermasculine hell. In this context, the names of Immortan Joe's sons take on a deeper significance. Firstly, Rictus Erectus translates to something like grin and erection, as if Immortan Joe had hopped for a future full of pleasures for his son. It is also a very verbal wish for an offspring who can physically stand up by himself and for himself. Unlike his disabled brother Corpus Colossus, who received a magnificent name meaning body like a giant greek god statue, in fruitless hopes that his imperfections would also grow away. Scabrous Scrotus more explicitly describes a unique physical attribute, namely some scabby nuts. Scrotus could very well be a nickname, which would parallel ancient romans who would choose a cognomen (nickname) to be known by, like Caligula meaning “little boot”, Oedipus (greek) meaning “swollen foot”, and Verrucosus meaning “warty”, for example. Better would be if Joe had named his son after his own beat-up ballsack, in which case this ode to biological reproduction against the environment would be very on brand. I bet Darwin is grinning wide, in his coffin.

It is interesting to note that most people in the recent mad max world appear to be illiterate and uncultured, so most don’t even understand the meaning of these stupid Latin names, but just that they sound as important as they say they are. That means these men who have access to nuance are really “dressing up” for each other, like an internal joke with the bois. Three brothers named to sound like roman emperors, to rule over all the erected men, by his mighty phallus.

It goes to show how colossal and monumental… the roman empire was, that it would outlast even the best of modernity. And its shadow would still loom over humans like the mysterious milky way in the night sky.

It’s a shame that Miller’s hyper-poetry is not that accessible.

[sgiandubh]

What sort of marketing is this? Why do they air this TV Insider interview with David Berry on YouTube b e f o r e the episode airs when they ask detailed questions about what happens in the episode and tell us practically everything? Was it an accidentc or the way to entice the audience to increase the ratings or ⭐ marketing strategy sucks?

On a happier note, allow me to interpret David's answers:

"I was ready to explore the love scene further but there were negotiations because Sam interfered. I feel very uncomfortable talking about just as I was extremely nervous to pretend that I was having sexual relations with his wife both on and off screen. We practically improvised the whole scene. Cait was aggressive because she felt uncomfortable doing it knowing that Sam will watch it. She didn't want to be in it as much as I didn't. We didn't rehearse much because Sam was very much against the scene being filmed. I'm seriously avoiding Sam now. He is very strong and protective of Cait. It feels weird being in his presence. Thank God for the scripts that don't give us many interactions afterwards."

I genuinely sorry for David. What a peculiar position he was and quite possibly still is in!

Dear Peculiar Position Anon,

I will give my take on it when I get to the third (Jesus, what a scandal!) batch of #jottings. Spoiler, though: it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be.

As for your interpretation, yours is as good as anybody's, of course. I would be much more reserved: this is, after all, acting (I am serious, this time) and I don't think these three people would be as naive as to give it such a childish connotation. I think SC and David are very good friends and, while I do agree S is very protective of C, I wouldn't go as far as you did.

Anyways, for those who missed it, here is the interview you are referring to:

May I also add that I like David Berry a LOT? Rewatching the interview, I think he gave us one of the most credible feedbacks ever on what it means to shoot a difficult scene, while you just knew all eyes would be upon it and expectations over the roof.

It also goes to show - and David has been endearingly honest about it - just how hard it is to shoot such a scene (all the 'really difficult' preparation process, the things that 'ended on the cutting room floor', the 'negotiation') when you don't have the organic famous 'shorthand' and 'ease' S&C always mention, when they talk about their intimate scenes.

That 'shorthand' and that' ease' have a name, Anon. We know exactly what that is about.

I also loved what David shared about his own research on gay people's approach to love, feelings' management (if I may say so) and intimacy. All I will say right now (I might get back to it later, who knows?) is that he did it respectfully and empathetically. A very, very difficult thing to achieve, I believe, that speaks volumes about how special David Berry is, both as an actor and a person (note to self: buy Landcon extras!).

Finally, you might want to compare the above interview with the somewhat sanitized, in-house narrative of ***:

Quite different things, I believe. And I so wish Maril would shut the dang up about what obviously is way above her range!

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"Dad?"

"Mmh?"

"We haven't talked about dating..."

That alerted Fleamont. He knew his son was growing up, he was getting taller and taller each day. Fleamont noticed the way his voice was deeper and he no longer had a baby face. He was slowly turning into a man.

But Monty figured he still had time to enjoy his little boy. Time flew so fast.

"That's because you weren't interested about it before" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Monty remembered well how James declared he'd never have a girlfriend, back when he thought girls were weird and disgusting.

Oh how Effie and him had enjoyed those moments.

Now, James was noticeably blushing.

"There's this girl..."

"Oh, there's a girl..." Monty blinked as he prepared himself.

"I used to call her Carroty because she is a ginger" James explained as he pushed his glasses up "We used to fight a lot. She called me a toerag idiot...I love getting under her nerves, because she is cute when she is angry..." he grinned.

Fleamont smiled.

"Then at the beginning of this term, I asked her out and she tossed me a piece of pie in my face"

"Tough temper, ha?" Monty snorted "Probably you deserved it"

"I just simply asked her out!" James protested.

"Did you ask or demand?"

James frowned "There's a difference?"

Fleamont's chest glowed. It was adorable that James was naive and innocent about this matter. He was so young. Just fourteen. Fleamont remembered he didn't even think of girls at that age. His son had too much to learn.

"Oh yes" he said as he moved in his seat, getting more comfortable to face the boy "I know you, and you are not familiar with subtlety"

"Well, thanks for that!"

Fleamont smiled.

"What do you feel for this girl?"

James got even more scarlet.

"I think she's pretty, sort of..."

"Sort of?"

"And I like how she yells at me because she is cute when she's angry" he continued "And I think about her a lot... Not that often... But frequently... I don't know!"

James leaned closer with a bit of desperation.

"What's your advice?"

Fleamont wasn't an expert on women really. Both of the birds he had been with had flirted with him first. But when it came to giving advice to his son, Fleamont gathered all the wisdom he could.

"Listen, James" he started and the boy's eyes illuminated. When he was little, he used to think Fleamont was a genius and his dad's words were law. Fleamont was glad that he provoked that on him.

"You're a kid, there's a long way for you yet" he added "But a girl is not a cool item you spot in the market and want for yourself... It is like a trophy, you have to fight for her, you have to do things right in order to gain her attention. It requires patience and intuition"

"Patience?"

They both knew James wasn't an expert in that.

"Lots of it. But it is like rugby, you have to act when it is necessary, when it is your turn, not when it is not"

"So, I don't ask her out again?"

Fleamont giggled "I think you should go step by step first. Get to know her better, what she likes, what she doesn't. Test the waters, see if she might be interested... Then act" he explained "Like in rugby, you don't make a movement until you're sure it is beneficial for the game... Strategy, my boy"

"Strategy" James beamed.

"Yes..."

James raised from his seat. Sometimes it was overwhelming how much energy this kid had. He got it from Effie surely.

"Thanks Dad!" James exclaimed "I am gonna call the boys so they can help me plan a strategy to win Evans"

"It was a metaphor, James. She is actually not a bloody trophy" Fleamont explained but his son was already climbing the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah! Thanks Dad!"

Fleamont sighed "Ah, he'll figure it out eventually"

It was just the beginning. James was having baby steps yet. He had no idea what a relationship meant. What it felt like to actually fall in love. And to share a life with a woman.

James would grow up someday and would find the love of his life. And he would have to live new experiences, to mature and build a family.

But there was a long way for that yet. Fleamont was thrilled, he wanted to support his Jamie in every step of the way.

Aaah girls... Romance... Love... James had to learn a lot.

Effie was going to be thrilled as well when Fleamont told her.

[coolprettyleo]

talk of the town - will smith

tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...

wc: 1.4k

will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.

even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.

the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.

influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.

her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.

she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)

there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.

the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.

she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.

"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.

"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.

"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.

"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.

the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.

"ask her"

"no thats weird"

"ill ask"

"your tiktok famous huh"

she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.

"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.

"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.

she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.

"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"

"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.

"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.

dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.

"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"

"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.

oh god it was a hot topic?

"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.

"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"

"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.

"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.

hes hot

"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"

"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.

"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.

"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.

"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.

"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.

"game?" Dylan said confused.

"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.

"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.

"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.

"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.

"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.

"her names frankie by the way"

"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.

"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.

"marketing. you?"

"communications"

"your quite the communicator then" she said.

oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?

what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.

"im sorry?"

"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.

"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.

"well what do you want to be?"

"a hockey player."

"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)

"and what do you want to be"

"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"

"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.

"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.

he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.

"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.

"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.

"look for 6" will said to her.

"six what?" she said confused.

"what?" he said equally confused now

"six of what" she said cluelessly.

"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.

"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.

gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.

"you are such a flirt"

"that was painful"

"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"

"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I think if I hadn't read people's upset comments, I would just think that the bts stuff not having a lot of Sam was just about him not being in the season as much. There are plenty of scenes they don't do bts things from, and not every character gets bts stuff from every episode they're in. The bts stuff from ep 3, with Sam walking, was really fun--that was maybe the best bts thing we've gotten from any of them, since overall I don't think the content for that has been as fun for any of the characters as I was hoping. Some of it's been cool, a few cute photos, but it's mostly stills of them filming, and that's not thaaaaat interesting?

But if you do think they're intentionally not showing Sam bts stuff, what would be the reason? Everything anyone has ever said about working with Sam is that he's exceptionally lovely (thinking of Roxane talking about how incredibly sweet he and Jacob are and how they make sure everyone on set is taken care of), so it hardly seems like the people running those two accounts would just not like him. And it also seems veeeeery hard to buy that they would not like Lestat to the point that they would intentionally not show the actor playing him in the show where he's one of two leads. So what could the reason be? That the fans have annoyed them?

... My post was about that argument I saw of him not "liking" BTS photos. Which is bullshit. For the record. It has nothing to do with what they actually choose to post, bc I love BTS pix of all of them.

That said, yes I think an argument can be made by now for the not posting of any of "Lestat/Sam" being weird, or not much of him, and it does seem to me as if they're trying to appease a certain subset, which is always so quick to scream foul.

This will, when the shift to Lestat in s3 comes as Rolin has already said(!!) not avail them, because there is no arguing with bullies. They will not be able to point to "but see we only posted that for a long time 🥺" then, because that subset screaming bloody murder will simply not care. Not when they can throw their morality olympics histrionics.

This is just my take on this, because I do find it weird as well by now. There are BTS photos of Sam (and Jacob, and Assad, and Delainey, and whoever else) amass... but what is posted seems weirdly... curated.

And that is what other people are apparently also picking up on, whether it is intentional or not(!), or simply coincidence.

I have never understood AMCs marketing strategy, nor the way the accounts are run. If I had a say in the matter Lestat would have an instagram account by now and likely beef with the Swifties and Armand and who not, because he is about to become a rockstar after all. But what do I know.

[sprintingowl]

Positioning, Market Dominance, And Having A Conversation In A Loud Room

So I'm reading Middle Earth Roleplaying 2nd ed. It's part of giant stack of tabletop I got from a publishing friend---and one of many systems I probably wouldn't be reading if I hadn't gotten it as part of a giant stack of tabletop from a publishing friend.

MERP 2e was released in '93, by Tolkein Enterprises, and is a pretty thorough book. It's packed full of nice B&W art. It lets you play as everything from a hobbit to an olag-hai. It uses a d100 system that allows for success with a complication. It's a book that feels intensely and simultaneously like it's ahead of and behind its time.

But that's not what I want to talk about.

MERP 2e has an alignment system, much like dnd at the time, but with twelve axis instead of two. Everything from whether your character is a metaphorical thinker to whether they're a literal thinker to whether they're a socialist or a libertarian is tracked.

Similarly, MERP has a classic six stat spread, but the explanations of the stats are all like "Strength(ST): Not brute musculature, but your ability to use your muscles to your greatest advantage."

And MERP has classes, called Professions, that each come with a little parenthetical explanation after their title. The Warrior's is (Fighter). The Scout's is (Thief). The Animist's is (Cleric).

What you might notice is that this is an officially licensed Middle Earth game *aggressively* defining and contextualizing itself vis a vis DnD. "Here's how our stats are different. Here's why our skill rolls are more granular. But don't worry, you can still play the same party roles. We promise we're not unfamiliar, just different."

Now, I don't know how intentionally-as-a-market-strategy the designers and writers were doing this---DnD's headlock on the industry was certainly less intense then than now---but it's reflective of a kind of design pressure that not only hasn't gone away. It's gotten way more intense.

DnD is roleplaying games. Anything that's not DnD might not be roleplaying games. Or at least, it's suspicious, it might taste weird, it might ruin your ability to have fun or speak english forever.

So in order to be a roleplaying game, you have to ask yourself "how do I fit into DnD?"

A critique I've seen leveled at indie systems sometimes is that they don't properly represent all of the three pillars of DnD. The three pillars is a modern creation. It's a 5e thing. It's specific to DnD. But DnD is roleplaying games, and to be a roleplaying game you need to be DnD.

So you get games as chameleons. You get endless "DnD killers" hoping that what people like about DnD isn't the name but the mechanics, and if you can just do the mechanics *more*, people will like you better. You get five hundred 5e splats. Power Rangers and GI Joe and Stargate all trying to fit into the same engine about swinging at and then missing a large rat. You get Adventure Time throwing out its original system and self-converting into a 5e hack because the market doesn't want things that don't look like DnD---even things that already look like DnD.

And back in '93 you get MERP 2e telling you don't worry, we still have the Thief, we just call it something different in our house.

[passerkirbius]

Where are all the Audio Fiction Fandoms?

To be clear, this isn't me complaining, and I know, there are plenty of fandoms for audio fiction podcasts and the like.

But I have always found it weird how few shows get the big, self-sustaining kinds of fandoms, the ones where there's always at least a little trickle of fanfic and fanart. So weird, in fact, that I've been thinking about it on and off for the last 5-6 years, and I have a few theories I'd like to share with y'all as to why, and to see if I can't get some feedback from the audio fiction fans on Tumblr.

Theory 1: Audience Size

The first theory is mostly about demographics - fundamentally, a fandom has to be large enough to sustain itself, and only a certain number of audience members are going to become the kind of fans who make fan works, so ultimately, an audio fiction show needs to get popular enough before fan works start appearing.

There's plenty of support for this theory, of course - Welcome to Night Vale, Wolf 359, The Adventure Zone and The Magnus Archives are titans in the fiction podcast space, and indeed they have big fandoms. But, with that said, there's plenty of other podcasts that are just as big that don't have fandoms, so this can't explain it all.

Theory 2: Audience Distance

This one is similar to the first, but subtly different. A few creators in the space I've talked to have noted that they'd never make fan works of their friend's shows - that feels weird, like deliberately treading on their friend's work. They don't have this feeling when playing in big fandoms, or fandoms where they don't know the creator. This implies to me that fans need a certain level of distance from creators in order to feel comfortable playing with that fictional space. While this is less the case now with the fall of Twitter, a lot of shows, for better or worse, used social media as the primary pillar of their marketing, as well as using Patreons with special access as part of their monetization strategies.

In short, it's never been easier to get close to the creators of your favourite shows, and for smaller shows, the most exuberant fans - the kinds who might make fan works - are also the kinds of fans who will take those opportunities to get closer to the creators. In short, there just might not enough social distance for fans to be comfortable creating works, not at least until the audience grows sufficiently that a creator simply cannot be that close with their entire audience.

This theory I'm not so sure about these days - this one is probably a lot more dependent on the generation of fandom you belong to. Older generations of fandom are more likely to have this queasiness around creator closeness, because they were creating in a time where fandom was a shadow realm, desperately hidden from The Powers That Be, and "No Copyright Infringement Intended" was carved into fan works as an eldritch attempt at legal protection.

Theory 3: Audience Age

To be clear - there are fans of all ages out there. But it is clear to me that fandom trends young, and part of that is just the time needed to participate in fan culture - creating and consuming takes a lot of time, time that tends gets scarcer and scarcer as you get older (there are obvious exceptions of course - stay-at-home mothers have consistently been a major force in fandoms!). It's possible that audio fiction fans just tend to trend older, and thus don't have the time available to create and consume fan works.

Honestly, I'm not sure how relevant this one is - Audio fiction is becoming more popular with younger audiences and slowly shedding the "old fuddy-duddyness" that surrounded it when I was first getting into the space. And, ya know, there are audio fiction fandoms out there, so obviously either the youth aspect of fandom isn't a thing, or it is, but audio fiction audiences are still trending young anyway.

Theory 4: We're getting what we need!

A lot of academic discourse often focuses on the idea that fandoms create for a reason - and that reason is often to focus on parts of a fiction that the original text, for whatever reason, doesn't. The most obvious form of this is the many, many, many examples of ships and erotic fanfiction. You, as a fan, watch a show, see something between two characters, and get frustrated that the show isn't giving you more of that, won't make what is clearly obvious to you, explicit. So, you consume and/or create fan works that help relieve that tension instead.

Or, in shows where the focus is primarily on plot advancement or action, you feel a desire to get to know the characters better - you see the stirrings of these characters, you want to know them better, but the show just isn't the type of show to give you that slow, character-heavy scene/episode that you know would give you exactly what you need, so, again, you go consume and/or create fan works to fix that.

It's very possible that a lot of audio fiction is already built to give these sorts of fan audiences what they want. There's already romantic relationships, characters are openly queer, the nature of the audio medium means that character-heavy scenes are something that the medium directs creators towards, so there's already a lot of character engagement. So, for many fandoms, there just isn't much need to create fan works - there's no tension between what the show is and what it could be.

Theory 5: We can make our own at home!

One interesting theory is that one reason that people make fandom is because, fundamentally, the creators understand that they're not going to be making a film, or a TV show, or a book. They have creative urges, and they're not in a situation in life where they're likely to overcome the enormous barriers to entry in mainstream media, so, in combination with the stuff in theory 4, they play in other people's worlds instead. They know that there's already an audience who will consume their work (they're part of that fan community, after all!), so they can get that validation of creation without needing to create their own TV show or film or book, etc.

Podcasts, however, are different. Now, it's not true to say that podcasts have low barriers to entry - to create a podcast, there's a lot of skills you either need to learn yourself, or find collaborators with those skills. But, those barriers to entry are much lower than visual media. At the very least, audio production is significantly cheaper and less complicated for an equivalent runtime.

Better, podcasts have absurdly low barriers to publication - There are no gatekeepers to satisfy, no distributors you have to convince. Once your thing is made, pretty much no one can stop you from distributing that work. You don't even really need to pay for a podcast host - there's a few free podcast hosts now. So, once you've done the work, pretty much nothing stops you from publishing said work.

So... If you're a creative fan, who loved a show but thinks you can do better? Well, you can! You don't need to play in other people's spaces, you can be inspired by the podcasts you listen to to create your own original work, in the same medium and genre.

What do y'all think? Which of these feel right, which of these feel obviously wrong? Are you part of a audio fiction fandom? What does your fandom feel like to you on the inside? As a audio fiction creator, it's kinda hard for me to get into the inside of fandom culture, so insider perspectives would be super neat for me, so please reblog this to anyone you feel might have an interesting perspective on the whole thing!

[jav-uni]

As someone who works in marketing & PR (NOT IN THE FILM INDUSTRY!! But I guess it could be adjacent ish bc I work for a marketing agency that works with a lot of celebrity brands - like Beis Travel & The Outset & Spotify) …

Posting press / videos at night… is WEIRD & that’s what I find the most weird about these videos of Evans. They’re each coming out day by day, and releasing in the strangest ways at night.

We literally have a rule at my company about it. We like almost every day at 10am, it’s a sweet spot. But it’s not the only time, the afternoon has good sweet spots too. And even then, unless it’s an event happening AT night - that’s when you’ll see content for it. But we still post recaps the next MORNING.

A lot of the time we don’t prefer Fridays / Saturdays / Sundays for articles going out (because sometimes our news won’t get picked up right away) but social media is active on those days so it works in our favor. But at night, never. It’s just not a common practice in marketing unless it’s being posted it so less people see it. So less people pick it up.

Which typically, is never the goal.

Thank you so much, nonnie. What you are saying makes sense because is very similar to what I see in my country, and that company rules? Yeah, we have that one too.

People who don't work in marketing & PR probably don't see it, but there is always a strategy behind every post, pics, video, and interview. Especially if it's paid.

[cleverpaws]

YES oh thank god its Somewhere

guys not to be that guy but do we actually have like. a Time. for when the founders cut comes out. like Time Of Day not just june 15th

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Seriously from a comms perspective I cannot stress enough how incredibly smart and strategic this launch/evolution/whatever you want to call it is. And to be clear I’m not saying it’s because they are PR. THAT IS NOT IT. Taylor and Travis are real people who happen to live in extraordinary circumstances that necessitate a plan in this regard because people can be so fucking weird about it.

The idea of acknowledging the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it and letting it take up space is what it all comes down to. Sure it was a frenzy when they first went public and the first bits of PDA hit the airwaves, but in the end what it does is normalize it. By this point, everyone knows they’re a couple and it’s not weird when they do hold hands or kiss or acknowledge each other in public. Because that’s what anyone would do with their significant other and trying to make it secret just makes it weird, for both the media and the people involved in the relationship.

So the way they’ve navigated this again has been masterful. There clearly are boundaries (it seems especially on Taylor’s end which Travis happily obliges) but that doesn’t mean they can’t just be themselves either. So, they’re not inviting people into their living room each week, but the gradual public meshing of their image served a purpose to normalize it. From Taylor’s first game to the occasional fluff pieces to trusted outlets to steer the narrative to acknowledging the public outings to dipping their toes in social media official, it’s making it so that now that they’ve moved into the next phase of their lives (whatever that may mean now but whatever it is it’s clearly serious and clearly considered permanent by both of them), they can share what they want without it being a stressor.

So if Taylor wants to be goofy, she can change her song lyrics or invite him up onto the stage and it’s newsworthy because she’s her but it’s not weird. Travis can be interviewed and be asked about his partner who is a public figure and speak highly of her without it turning into a maelstrom. Gradually their domestic status is going to be normalized so that their every move isn’t as big of a deal. (It’ll still be news because they are who they are, but it won’t seem like they’re sitting down for a root canal every time.)

I hate to call this a “rollout” because they’re people, not products, but in terms of a PR strategy, it’s excellent. And it’s not that every move they do is PR!!! It’s that every move they make is public, so they need to navigate that so that they can maintain their personal boundaries as they wish. It’s not that every interview is calculated, but it’s more that what they do or don’t choose to share at any moment in time is helping them figure out what they’re comfortable with, and it’s also lessening the market value, if you will, of any anecdotes. The more people become accustomed to them as a unit, the less each quote like this is bound to make huge headlines. (I mean other than fans like us because we want our pop star bestie to have everything she wants.)

It’s not just that their teams have set a great example, it’s that THEY are handling it with such skill and grace. I’m honestly blown away by it from a professional perspective and suspect that they figured out early on that getting a handle on it and guiding the narrative instead of pretending it didn’t exist might have been scary at first but has proven to make things so much easier and takes up way less space in all their brains.

[d-lanx]

New WWE AU Idea: Newscaster AU

Ok, I need to put this down somewhere before it drives me insane. It's a stupidly niche AU idea but it's taking up so much brain power for me right now for some reason. It's a journalist AU where the WWE is a TV news channel. Details below the cut.

But basically I've been thinking about all the people who've been running the PLE pre & post shows & hosting PLEs this year a lot. And with the whole news-style interviews and sitting around on sets that often look like news studios, what if they were all actual reporters in a news channel? It's a bit of a weird one I know, but it's been rolling around in my head all weekend.

Btw I have no idea if USA news channels call their emplyees the same sort of titles as we have in the UK so excuse me if the job titles are a bit scuffed. But basically here's all the roles they have, why I chose those roles for them (in brackets), and what they get up to as part of this AU news channel:

Michael Cole: Senior Newsreader- (Because of his commentary work and journalism background). Out of all the people currently regularly on TV, he's been there the longest and is highly respected. Always trusted to keep a level head in times where the world feels like it's gone to hell.

Corey Graves: Business Correspondent- (Because he has a degree in marketing). Feel like he'd do a segment kinda like "The Martin Lewis Money Show" we have in the UK, where he goes through government changes to finance-related stuff, explains it and how it'll affect the average person, and then answers questions from a live studio audience and gives them advice.

Wade Barrett: Environmental Correspondent- (Because he has a degree in marine biology). I get the vibe his favourite animals are tiny and obscure things like a specific type of sea pickle on the verge of extinction or something and he defends them aggressively to get people to help save the species. Has memorised his evidence for global warming and can reel it off with ease, but is sick of having to do it so much cos people STILL DON'T BELIEVE IN IT????????

Pat McAfee: Sports Correspondent- (Do I even need to explain why? He's a mad man and I can't imagine him doing anything else, even out of a whole cast of people on a sports show like WWE). Feel like most people try to keep somewhat calm and professional on a news show, but he's just himself the whole way through, making him one of the most popular reporters on the whole channel because people want to see his OTT reactions to certain events. Feel like he'd also probably be in charge of the news station's radio show, too, what with how he has the Pat McAfee Show in real life.

Big E Langston: Political Correspondent- (He just gives me that vibe being all analytical about wrestling feuds). He's just as tired with politicians' nonsense as we all are, to the point it's hard to hide his dissappointment when they say something stupid and he has to remain unbiased. Never lets politicians get away with evasive answers when he interviews them, but smiles the whole time as he makes them wish they were never born.

CM Punk: War Correspondent- (The man is always scrapping for the love of the game, so of course he'd be in the centre of a war). He's had bombs dropped on his head more times than he can count and regularly goes for runs as a workout to make sure he's still fit enough to run for his life when he's in active warzones. Can tell you all about the complex international relations and battle strategies but secretly has a morbid interest in death & gore which is what actually got him into the job. Once got shot on live television, showed off the wound on camera and finished his broadcast before getting medical treatment. Was only mildly miffed about nearly dying, mostly excited by the whole experience.

Jackie Redmond: Justice Correspondent- (Basically her analyst role in WWE gives me the vibe of someone discussing a crime case). Can tell you all about how 17 people have been skinned alive and cannibalised in graphic detail so casually as if she's talking about the weather. At this point in her career, pretty much nothing can phase her. So if something actually manages to leave her speechless, you know it's bad.

Cathy Kelley: General Reporter- (Basically cos it's just what she's doing in WWE). Going wherever she needs to be to interview people and get to the bottom of a story. Has interviewed some really dangerous people that are twice her size all in the name of finding a good story and everyone's just like "for the love of god please think about ur own safety for once."

The Miz: Media Correspondent- (Cos of his reality TV background and generally over the top vibes). He'd be all over red carpet events and he's definitely still hoping to use his media journalism as some leverage to get into show-business himself. Celebs see him at events and pray they haven't been spotted so they don't have to talk to him, cos he can be a lot. But this little bastard has the eyes of a hawk and will hunt them down. Especially if he's persoanlly a big fan of them and their work.

R-Truth: Weatherman- (Cos he's a ray of sunshine :) ) Just imagine the batshit insanity of him telling people about a storm or how nice the weather's gonna be or something (I'm thinking like a Bob Hale skit on the original Horrible Histories, that kind of madness).

Sheamus: Tech Correspondent- (Cos he's a former IT technician so he can be all brainy). Constantly treated like IT support rather than a journalist and is sick of having to switch on servers people promised were already on, and listening to people with no idea what they're talking about prattle on about the benefits of AI. But at least he gets to talk about flying cars and robot dogs all day and muck about with new tech for a living.

Triple H: Editor In Chief- (Basically the top role in journalism to match with his current role in real life). Running things is like trying to herd cats, but hey, he can put on a pretty damn good show. Trying desperately to move on from the scandals of the days when the previous editor-in-chief was in charge of things.

Obviously some of them wouldn't be able to use their ring names in those environments. Plus I'm probably forgetting some people who should be in this AU that have been involved in pre/post shows, hosting, and commentary, but my brain's a bit too frazzled to go thru all the PLEs right now.

But like... come on... look at them and just imagine for a second... do you see the vision???? Or have I finally gone a bit mad??

LIKE JUST LOOK AT THEM!!

Also it gives me even more reasons to think about punk in suits <3

Also also if he were a war correspondent and had to go out into dangerous places, they'd make him wear gear which means more of this. vvv

Also CM Punk & Big E Langston are the two people I'm blaming for putting this AU in my head just so you know. Cos look at them!!

But also since punkintyre died, I've been reliving my sheamus/punk shipping days and just imagine sheamus waiting for his husband to come back from reporting in an active warzone and being worried for his safety (especially if he's been hurt before [whump time?]). And then all the excitement and relief when he gets back and giving each other special attention cos they were both so stressed and now they're just so happy to see each other again.

Also imagine Punk being inept with technology and needing help from tech savvy husband who's so proud that punk's finally learnt how to attach a file in an email. Punk probably sends Sheamus facebook minions memes and Sheamus despairs.

And then Punk excitedley explains all about battle strategies and war history and Sheamus excitedley explains back about the complexities of designing a self driving car or some shit. They're both just being massive nerds together. Even better when their interests overlap, like the design of tanks or something. Feel like they'd be talking for hours and everyone is like "guys come on, we have a show to run" but they're too busy with their hyperfixations (autistic sheapunk anyone? [is that what the ship name is??]).

Just think of the shipping potential!!

And this whole countdown show also was major inspo cos to me it just looks so much like a news show.

And these three just give me the vibe that E (being a political correspondent) would obviously be doing a show for the elections. And since law and war are both very close to politics, he'd get punk and jackie in to keep him company and the three would do an overnight show reporting on election results as they come in, chatting shit the entire time.

Btw I still don't know what this all means for the other WWE wrestlers. Defeats the point of using commentators and hosts if I also have all the wrestlers also being journalists. So maybe they can be the people featured in the news. All having "normal" jobs like politicians and military and scientists and shit. And these guys can be reporting on their nonsense and bullying them in interviews.

I feel like I could add more people to it, like having ring announcers as general news readers, and Shawn Michaels, Adam Pearce and Nick Aldis as editors or something. And I'm probably forgetting other people who hosted PLEs or were presenters on pre/post shows, and other commentators. So there'll be plenty more that could be added.

Sorry about the info dump but I needed to put this somewhere. I'm not the only one seeing the vision on this am I????