#epic cast selfies

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Epic Systems, a lethal health record monopolist

Epic Systems makes the dominant electronic health record (EHR) system in America; if you're a doctor, chances are you are required to use it, and for every hour a doctor spends with a patient, they have to spend two hours doing clinically useless bureaucratic data-entry on an Epic EHR.

How could a product so manifestly unfit for purpose be the absolute market leader? Simple: as Robert Kuttner describes in an excellent feature in The American Prospect, Epic may be a clinical disaster, but it's a profit-generating miracle:

https://prospect.org/health/2024-10-01-epic-dystopia/

At the core of Epic's value proposition is "upcoding," a form of billing fraud that is beloved of hospital administrators, including the "nonprofit" hospitals that generate vast fortunes that are somehow not characterized as profits. Here's a particularly egregious form of upcoding: back in 2020, the Poudre Valley Hospital in Ft Collins, CO locked all its doors except the ER entrance. Every patient entering the hospital, including those receiving absolutely routine care, was therefore processed as an "emergency."

In April 2020, Caitlin Wells Salerno – a pregnant biologist – drove to Poudre Valley with normal labor pains. She walked herself up to obstetrics, declining the offer of a wheelchair, stopping only to snap a cheeky selfie. Nevertheless, the hospital recorded her normal, uncomplicated birth as a Level 5 emergency – comparable to a major heart-attack – and whacked her with a $2755 bill for emergency care:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/27/crossing-a-line/#zero-fucks-given

Upcoding has its origins in the Reagan revolution, when the market-worshipping cultists he'd put in charge of health care created the "Prospective Payment System," which paid a lump sum for care. The idea was to incentivize hospitals to provide efficient care, since they could keep the difference between whatever they spent getting you better and the set PPS amount that Medicare would reimburse them. Hospitals responded by inventing upcoding: a patient with controlled, long-term coronary disease who showed up with a broken leg would get coded for the coronary condition and the cast, and the hospital would pocket both lump sums:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/13/a-punch-in-the-guts/#hayek-pilled

The reason hospital administrators love Epic, and pay gigantic sums for systemwide software licenses, is directly connected to the two hours that doctors spent filling in Epic forms for every hour they spend treating patients. Epic collects all that extra information in order to identify potential sources of plausible upcodes, which allows hospitals to bill patients, insurers, and Medicare through the nose for routine care. Epic can automatically recode "diabetes with no complications" from a Hierarchical Condition Category code 19 (worth $894.40) as "diabetes with kidney failure," code 18 and 136, which gooses the reimbursement to $1273.60.

Epic snitches on doctors to their bosses, giving them a dashboard to track doctors' compliance with upcoding suggestions. One of Kuttner's doctor sources says her supervisor contacts her with questions like, "That appointment was a 2. Don’t you think it might be a 3?"

Robert Kuttner is the perfect journalist to unravel the Epic scam. As a journalist who wrote for The New England Journal of Medicine, he's got an insider's knowledge of the health industry, and plenty of sources among health professionals. As he tells it, Epic is a cultlike, insular company that employs 12.500 people in its hometown of Verona, WI.

The EHR industry's origins start with a GW Bush-era law called the HITECH Act, which was later folded into Obama's Recovery Act in 2009. Obama provided $27b to hospitals that installed EHR systems. These systems had to more than track patient outcomes – they also provided the data for pay-for-performance incentives. EHRs were already trying to do something very complicated – track health outcomes – but now they were also meant to underpin a cockamamie "incentives" program that was supposed to provide a carrot to the health industry so it would stop killing people and ripping off Medicare. EHRs devolved into obscenely complex spaghetti systems that doctors and nurses loathed on sight.

But there was one group that loved EHRs: hospital administrators and the private companies offering Medicare Advantage plans (which also benefited from upcoding patients in order to soak Uncle Sucker):

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8649706/

The spread of EHRs neatly tracks with a spike in upcharging: "from 2014 through 2019, the number of hospital stays billed at the highest severity level increased almost 20 percent…the number of stays billed at each of the other severity levels decreased":

https://oig.hhs.gov/oei/reports/OEI-02-18-00380.pdf

The purpose of a system is what it does. Epic's industry-dominating EHR is great at price-gouging, but it sucks as a clinical tool – it takes 18 keystrokes just to enter a prescription:

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2729481

Doctors need to see patients, but their bosses demand that they satisfy Epic's endless red tape. Doctors now routinely stay late after work and show up hours early, just to do paperwork. It's not enough. According to another one of Kuttner's sources, doctors routinely copy-and-paste earlier entries into the current one, a practice that generates rampant errors. Some just make up random numbers to fulfill Epic's nonsensical requirements: the same source told Kuttner that when prompted to enter a pain score for his TB patients, he just enters "zero."

Don't worry, Epic has a solution: AI. They've rolled out an "ambient listening" tool that attempts to transcribe everything the doctor and patient say during an exam and then bash it into a visit report. Not only is this prone to the customary mistakes that make AI unsuited to high-stakes, error-sensitive applications, it also represents a profound misunderstanding of the purpose of clinical notes.

The very exercise of organizing your thoughts and reflections about an event – such as a medical exam – into a coherent report makes you apply rigor and perspective to events that otherwise arrive as a series of fleeting impressions and reactions. That's why blogging is such an effective practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

The answer to doctors not having time to reflect and organize good notes is to give them more time – not more AI. As another doctor told Kuttner: "Ambient listening is a solution to a self-created problem of requiring too much data entry by clinicians."

EHRs are one of those especially hellish public-private partnerships. Health care doctrine from Reagan to Obama insisted that the system just needed to be exposed to market forces and incentives. EHRs are designed to allow hospitals to win as many of these incentives as possible. Epic's clinical care modules do this by bombarding doctors with low-quality diagnostic suggestions with "little to do with a patient’s actual condition and risks," leading to "alert fatigue," so doctors miss the important alerts in the storm of nonsense elbow-jostling:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5058605/

Clinicians who actually want to improve the quality of care in their facilities end up recording data manually and keying it into spreadsheets, because they can't get Epic to give them the data they need. Meanwhile, an army of high-priced consultants stand ready to give clinicians advise on getting Epic to do what they need, but can't seem to deliver.

Ironically, one of the benefits that Epic touts is its interoperability: hospitals that buy Epic systems can interconnect those with other Epic systems, and there's a large ecosystem of aftermarket add-ons that work with Epic. But Epic is a product, not a protocol, so its much-touted interop exists entirely on its terms, and at its sufferance. If Epic chooses, a doctor using its products can send files to a doctor using a rival product. But Epic can also veto that activity – and its veto extends to deciding whether a hospital can export their patient records to a competing service and get off Epic altogether.

One major selling point for Epic is its capacity to export "anonymized" data for medical research. Very large patient data-sets like Epic's are reasonably believed to contain many potential medical insights, so medical researchers are very excited at the prospect of interrogating that data.

But Epic's approach – anonymizing files containing the most sensitive information imaginable, about millions of people, and then releasing them to third parties – is a nightmare. "De-identified" data-sets are notoriously vulnerable to "re-identification" and the threat of re-identification only increases every time there's another release or breach, which can used to reveal the identities of people in anonymized records. For example, if you have a database of all the prescribing at a given hospital – a numeric identifier representing the patient, and the time and date when they saw a doctor and got a scrip. At any time in the future, a big location-data breach – say, from Uber or a transit system – can show you which people went back and forth to the hospital at the times that line up with those doctor's appointments, unmasking the person who got abortion meds, cancer meds, psychiatric meds or other sensitive prescriptions.

The fact that anonymized data can – will! – be re-identified doesn't mean we have to give up on the prospect of gleaning insight from medical records. In the UK, the eminent doctor Ben Goldacre and colleagues built an incredible effective, privacy-preserving "trusted research environment" (TRE) to operate on millions of NHS records across a decentralized system of hospitals and trusts without ever moving the data off their own servers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

The TRE is an open source, transparent server that accepts complex research questions in the form of database queries. These queries are posted to a public server for peer-review and revision, and when they're ready, the TRE sends them to each of the databases where the records are held. Those databases transmit responses to the TRE, which then publishes them. This has been unimaginably successful: the prototype of the TRE launched during the lockdown generated sixty papers in Nature in a matter of months.

Monopolies are inefficient, and Epic's outmoded and dangerous approach to research, along with the roadblocks it puts in the way of clinical excellence, epitomizes the problems with monopoly. America's health care industry is a dumpster fire from top to bottom – from Medicare Advantage to hospital cartels – and allowing Epic to dominate the EHR market has somehow, incredibly, made that system even worse.

Naturally, Kuttner finishes out his article with some antitrust analysis, sketching out how the Sherman Act could be brought to bear on Epic. Something has to be done. Epic's software is one of the many reasons that MDs are leaving the medical profession in droves.

Epic epitomizes the long-standing class war between doctors who want to take care of their patients and hospital executives who want to make a buck off of those patients.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/02/upcoded-to-death/#thanks-obama

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[mrsfancyferrari]

My Priority

Summary: MV1 + "You're my priority." 🍂🦃

Song: i'm yours by Isabel LaRosa

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 6.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The sun dipped low over the Monaco harbor, casting a golden hue over the sleek yachts and classic buildings. It was race weekend, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.

Fans adorned in vibrant team colors filled the streets, while the pit lanes prepared for the moment that would thrill millions around the globe.

Among the horde of dedicated supporters and high-profile personalities were three friends, caught in a whirlwind of competition and camaraderie: Max, Charles and Lando.

Today, he stood in the crowd, his eyes fixed on you—a talented influencer and recently appointed ambassador for the racing team.

With your effortless smile and magnetic personality, you effortlessly drew a gathering of admirers around you, signing autographs and taking cheerful selfies, your laughter ringing like music above the cacophony.

Charles and Lando, seated comfortably on a nearby bench, exchanged knowing glances as they watched Max, who seemed lost in a dreamy haze.

“Look at him,” Lando snickered, leaning back on his hands. “I swear he’s drooling.”

“Max, the biggest simp in Monaco,” Charles teased, suppressing a laugh. “He’s got those hearts in his eyes again.”

Max was clearly oblivious, completely entranced by your graceful presence. He didn’t just admire you; it was as though he had built a world around the very idea of you.

The way you spoke with your fans, how you listened to each story and responded with genuine interest—it captivated him.

“Should we go over and rescue him?” Lando suggested, feigning concern while he grinned. “Or do we let him bask in his hopeless dreams for a little longer?”

“He’ll be fine,” Charles replied, shaking his head. “But maybe we should give him a little push. He wouldn’t take any of this as serious if it were us in front of that crowd.”

“I can’t believe he’s got it this bad,” Lando said, his tone playful, “What spice do you think he would add to the word ‘simp’ if it was his turn to describe it? Charismatic? Earned? I can practically hear his monologue right now.”

Charles laughed, then leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he studied Max. “But seriously, look at him. It’s like watching a puppy. You know he wouldn’t even know what to say to her.”

While they teased Max, he remained entranced. Conscious of his friends’ snickering, he reluctantly stole a glance at them and noticed their laughter.

Realizing what they were up to, he straightened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Guys! Quit it!” he called out, his voice laced with embarrassment. “I’m just watching!”

“Yeah, watching her while looking like you’re in a personal rom-com,” Lando snickered. “How about a quick flirt, huh? We can’t let those hours of sim racing go to waste, Max!”

“Or we could help you,” Charles added, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing grin. “I could distract her while you swoop in for a heroic rescue.”

Max rolled his eyes, attempting to shake off their banter, yet a smile tugged at his lips, unable to fully resist the comedic timing of his over-the-top friends.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that? I’d rather drown than ask either one of you for ‘help’.”

“Oh please, it wouldn’t even be asking!” Lando exchanged a knowing grin with Charles. “You’d be thanking us with how epic this moment will be.”

Just as their banter continued, you finished with the last group of fans, standing tall under the sun, blissfully unaware of the trio observing you.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and took out your phone, scrolling through your messages.

“Look! She’s free! Go now!” Lando exclaimed, shoving Max lightly.

“What? No! I can't!” Max stuttered, standing rigid, his earlier confidence evaporating.

Charles leaned closer, unfazed by Max’s protests. “You brought this on yourself. You can’t let the opportunity pass you by. Just be yourself.”

“Be myself?” Max echoed incredulously. “What does that even mean? Look at her! She’s amazing. I’m just… me.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Charles replied. “She doesn't want another trophy; she wants someone real. If you don’t go talk to her, you’ll never know.”

With a deep breath, Max took a step back, contemplating the ocean of thoughts that whirled within him. “What if I mess up? Or worse, what if she thinks I’m just a weird guy?”

“Mate! You're the Max Verstappen,” Lando shrugged. “I don't think she'll care.” He winked. “Now go. You could get all the cool points.”

With a silent nod and a rush of adrenaline, Max finally took a step forward. As he approached you, he tried to focus on the words swirling in his mind.

Closer and closer, he felt his heart race—this was it.

You looked up just as he reached you, and your eyes met his. His breath caught, a mix of excitement and nervousness weaving together. “Hey…,” he managed to say, suddenly feeling small in this vast world of possibility.

You smiled brightly, that same warmth radiating from you that had drawn him here. “Hi there! You’re a fan of the team, right?”

Max nodded, wrestling with the best response while standing here, finally face to face with the person he admired yet knew so little about. “Yeah, I mean, um, I—I am.” He swallowed hard. “I saw you with your fans over there, and, um, you were amazing.”

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Thank you! I love connecting with them. It’s the least I can do. They make our sport so vibrant and exciting.”

“I can see that,” Max said, feeling the confidence slowly emerging. “Just like you’re making this whole weekend brighter.”

The two of you shared a laugh that alleviated the tension, and with each word, the distance between you lessened. The shimmer of stars began to paint the sky as the sun set, casting a magical glow over the race circuit, where a new chapter began to unfold.

Meanwhile, Charles and Lando watched from a distance, an approving grin plastered on their faces. “Maybe our Max isn’t such a hopeless case after all,” Lando mused, nudging Charles.

“Looks like our little simp might just prove us all wrong,” Charles replied, folding his arms in satisfaction as they witnessed the unfolding moment between you and Max, already knowing it was destined to be a story worth telling.

You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of racing. The revving engines, the smell of burnt rubber, and the exhilaration hanging in the air—every race was a whirlwind of excitement.

As a social media influencer, you had the chance to immerse yourself in this electrifying world, and attending each Grand Prix was like living in a breathtaking dream.

But it wasn't just the races that thrilled you; it was the company you kept, particularly Max.

He was a whirlwind on the track, deftly maneuvering through the chaos of his competitors. Off the track, however, he was refreshingly down-to-earth.

From the moment you met, a strong bond formed—a friendship that quickly evolved into the kind of connection that made fans and onlookers raise their eyebrows with curiosity.

Your camaraderie was vibrant and infectious, turning the drivers’ lounge into your personal arena of chaos where everyone else was a spectator.

“Hey, Max!” you exclaimed, waving as he walked through the driver’s lounge after a particularly grueling race in Miami. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“Y/N! Ready for some ‘maxplaining’?” he teased, giving you a playful nudge.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You mean me doing the yapping, Maxplaining is your job.”

“Touché,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But let’s compare notes on what went wrong today. I have a few things to say.”

You led him to a quieter corner, the hum of the lounge fading as the two of you settled into a rhythm. You were comfortable with each other, like family.

“Okay, admit it,” you began, leaning in conspiratorially. “You totally could have cut that last corner better. What were you thinking?”

Max feigned a horrified gasp. “What do you mean? I was just giving the crowds a show! It’s about the drama, Y/N!”

“Drama?” you chuckled. “More like a slow dance with the wall! Lando warned you, didn’t he?”

Max smirked, clearly enjoying the banter. “Lando is always going on about it. It’s like he thinks he can drive better just because he’s got a fancy new helmet.”

At that, you burst out laughing, imagining Lando prancing around, confidently boasting about helmet aerodynamics while utterly ignoring the zen of driving.

Lando had long since accepted his role in your friendship as the comedic relief, always reminding you both to loosen up amidst the pressure.

As the races sped by from more distant tracks like COTA to the legendary Brazil Grand Prix, your friendship deepened wonderfully, forming an unbreakable bond.

Instagram stories filled with laughter and spontaneous videos of Max’s antics, unfiltered and untamed, all while being followed by millions.

It wasn’t merely a friendship; it was an adventure, one you cherished.

“Oh, I’m definitely maxplaining this one for the Gram,” you declared one day, holding up your phone as Max attempted to juggle a football while simultaneously answering questions from fans.

“Y/N, focus! We need to practice our pre-race rituals, not showcase my juggling skills,” Max replied, though he couldn’t resist the allure of the camera, striking a mock-serious pose.

“Fine, focus mode activated! But I’ll always film your epic fails,” you bantered, capturing him dramatically failing to keep the football afloat.

The moments you shared were infused with invaluable lessons and effortless joy. It was on a chill evening following a hot race that things began to shift for you both.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if you weren’t racing? Like, normal stuff?” you asked, settling comfortably in a lounge chair, your gaze fixed on the sunset outside the paddock.

Max paused, his expression turning thoughtful. “Sometimes. It’s hard, though. Racing is everything I know—you lose track of reality. But I guess if I weren’t here...” he trailed off, his brow furrowing, “I’d probably be lost.”

“I get that,” you affirmed. “But you’re not just a racer, Max. You’re an inspiration to so many. It’s more than just speed; it’s the grit and passion the fans see.”

A shy smile crept across his face. “And you, Y/N, you’re more than just this influencer. You humanize the sport. You put a face to racing that isn’t just helmets and stats.”

Caught off guard by his sincerity, you felt a flutter in your chest. “Thanks, Max. That means a lot,” you replied, warmth spreading through you.

There was a beat of silence before he continued, “Have you ever thought about how this could go beyond racing?”

Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”

"Nothing," he muttered shyly, his ears went bright red and excused himself to finish his debriefing. . . .

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the park as Max leaned against a nearby wall, scrolling through his phone.

He had been enjoying his time with you, your banter and laughter filling the air, a comfortable rhythm you had established over the weeks.

Yet, beneath the surface of your friendship, Max felt a flicker of something deeper, a burgeoning affection he hadn’t quite dared to voice.

Suddenly, he noticed a figure approaching you—a tall, dark-haired guy who carried himself with an ease that annoyed Max for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate.

As the guy drew closer, he greeted you with a wide smile, and you responded with a tension in your shoulders that sent alarm bells ringing in Max’s head.

"Hey, Y/N!" the guy said, his voice overly cheerful as if he were trying to create an upbeat atmosphere. "Long time no see! How have you been?"

“Uh, hi, Ben,” you replied, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “I’ve been… good.” You shifted your weight uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact while fiddling with the strap of your bag.

Max couldn’t hear the rest of your conversation, but he could see your discomfort rise like a tide. Ben leaned in closer, gesturing animatedly with his hands, and Max’s heart raced.

It was clear you wanted to retreat, but Ben seemed oblivious to your disinterest.

Max took a step off the wall, deciding he didn't like the way Ben was invading your personal space. He approached them, a casual yet protective demeanor in his stride.

“Hey, babe! There you are!” he had called out, forcing the brightness into his tone, hoping to drown out the awkwardness hanging in the air.

Your relief was evident as you turned to him with that light that made everything feel right.

“Oh! Maxy, hey!” you exclaimed, that simple greeting sending a jolt of happiness through him.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, a stark contrast to the cloud that overhung your expression when you were with Ben.

“Yeah, I just… um, was catching up with Ben here,” you said, the slight falter in your voice not going unnoticed by Max.

He felt a flicker of protectiveness flare up inside him, and he stepped closer, narrowing the space between you and Ben.

“Ben!” Max called, feigning cheerfulness as he directed his attention to the other guy, whose smile seemed to dim the moment he realized Max had entered the scene. “You’re still talking about high school? What a wild ride that was, right?”

Ben chuckled lightly, clearly irritated with Max's interruption but not wanting to show it. “Yeah, we were just reminiscing about old times,” he replied, shooting you a glance. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you muttered, your gaze darting away, unable to meet either of their eyes.

Max could see you were struggling, trapped in some unspoken tension, but he didn’t want to let you stay there any longer.

“Well, we’ve got our own plans,” Max interjected smoothly, a hint of challenge in his voice as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder gently.

“So, are you ready to grab that smoothie we talked about? The mango one?” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like a conspirator sharing a secret, “I hear it’s worth it.”

You caught his eyes, and in that moment, your gratitude was palpable.

“Yes! I could really go for a mango smoothie right now,” you said, the tension easing from your face as you shifted your weight towards Max, your unexpected ally in this moment.

“Smoothies are great for tackling the past,” Max added with an exaggerated grin at Ben, who now looked like a puppet with its strings cut.

Max felt a thrill of satisfaction watching the other man’s expression sour, knowing you were finally free to escape this uncomfortable confrontation.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Ben forced through gritted teeth, his eyes boring into Max as if trying to figure him out.

“Yeah, you too,” you replied, the practiced politeness in your tone striking a sharp contrast to the warmth you’d shown Max.

Together, you turned away from Ben, the café’s atmosphere lightening as you stepped outside into the warm sun.

Once you reached the sidewalk, your sigh of relief was almost comical. “Thank you for that, Max. I didn’t know how to get away.”

“Anytime,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual while his heart raced. “Ben can be a little… intense, can’t he?”

You laughed, the sound genuine and bright. “Intense is one way to put it. He has a way of making things complicated.”

“He’s... well, we have some history that’s not exactly fun,” you admitted, your expression somber as you waited for your smoothies.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Max asked gently, his heart thumping in his chest.

He didn’t want to push you, but he was curious and concerned at the same time.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your phone. “It was just a complicated relationship. One of those where things started out great, but eventually spiraled into something toxic. It was… hard to let go.”

Max’s expression softened. “I understand. You don’t have to share everything if you’re not comfortable, though. I just want you to know I’m here for you, always.”

You smiled, a genuine light coming back to your eyes. “I appreciate that, Max. I think after all this time, I’ve finally learned what I want in my life. You just being here means a lot.”

“That’s what friends are for, right? And I wouldn’t want anyone to make you feel uncomfortable. You deserve better than that,” Max said, handing you the smoothie.

“Thanks, Max. You really are a great friend.” As you two walked away from the stand, you stole a glance at him, your eyes shining. “You know, I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

Max smiled. He just hoped he was something more to you. . . . .

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed unexpectedly. The screen lit up, revealing an incoming call from a number you recognized as belonging to Red Bull Racing's media team.

Your heart raced; you just had been following F1 closely, and your recent friendship with Max Verstappen had garnered its fair share of attention on social media.

You answered the call, curiosity piqued.

“Hey! Is this Y/N?” a cheerful voice greeted on the other end.

“Yes, it is!” you replied, trying to sound composed. “Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Sarah from Red Bull's media team. We’ve been monitoring the amazing fan reactions to the content featuring you and Max. We’d love to capitalize on that momentum,” she explained.

"We’d like to invite you to join Max for a fun game, which we plan to share on our social media. Are you up for it?"

You couldn’t believe it. “Absolutely,”

“Great! We’ll set it up for tomorrow afternoon. You'll both be given ten questions. Some will be about F1, and others will be random. Sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you hung up, excitement bubbling inside.

Who wouldn't want to play a game with one of F1's biggest stars?

The next day, you arrived at the Red Bull Racing headquarters, a breathtaking fusion of sleek modern design and rich motorsport culture.

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with genuine smiles from the team members bustling around, their energy infectious, the air thick with the anticipation that always brewed before a race.

ou could hear the chatter about tire compounds and race strategies, a symphony of excitement that made your heart race.

After a quick cup of coffee—rich and strong enough to zap you awake—you engaged in light banter with a few of the engineers, teasing them about the latest car performance.

Just as you were beginning to feel at home, Olivia, the content manager, came over and ushered me into a bright studio space designed explicitly for video content.

“Ready for some fun today?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I’m always ready for fun, especially with Max,” you replied with a grin.

As you entered the studio, you spotted Max Verstappen lounging against a table, his trademark red and blue cap perched backward on his head.

He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up as you walked in, his face lighting up with a warm grin.

“Hey! Finally, the famous Y/N has arrived!” he exclaimed, his tone playful and welcoming.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Don’t exaggerate, Max. I’m just the guy who occasionally shows up in your videos.”

“Nah, you’re a big deal now! Everyone loves the banter we have,” he insisted, pushing himself off the table and giving you a light punch on the shoulder. “Ready to get this started?”

“Absolutely. Let’s see who knows the other better!” you replied, feeling playful and competitive.

Sarah stepped in, ready to explain the rules. “Alright, everyone! Here’s how it will work. You’ll each take turns asking questions, alternating between F1 trivia and personal ones. Let’s find out just how well you know each other!”

“Sounds good,” Max said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ladies first.”

“Alright, Max,” you said, preparing to razz him with your first question. “What’s my favorite food?”

He crossed his arms, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s easy—pasta! But the way you always go on about it makes it seem like you think you’re Italian.”

You burst out laughing, caught off guard by his accuracy. “Damn! You’ve been paying attention,” you replied with mock disbelief. “But just wait till you get yours.”

“Bring it on!” He replied, leaning in with an eager grin.

You took a deep breath and decided to up the ante. “Okay, here’s an F1 trivia question. What year did Red Bull Racing first win the Constructors’ Championship?”

Without missing a beat, he said, “2010,” You raised an eyebrow. “Impressive!”

Then it was Max’s turn. He leaned closer, an intensity in his gaze. “What’s the last concert you went to?”

You paused for a moment, recalling the memory. “It was a Coldplay concert last year. They were amazing!”

The questions flowed naturally, and laughter filled the room as the banter turned to playful teasing. Each time he got an answer right, there was a spark—a moment of connection that seemed to linger in the air a second too long.

You caught him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his expression both challenging and curious.

“Okay, okay, I have one for you,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if ready to break some sacred bond. “What do I like to do on my days off?”

You squinted, trying to remember the few times the team had shared off days together. “Uh, you like spending time with your cats, and you also love to do sim racing?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Close! I do love spending time with sim racing, but I also spend too much time playing FIFA. You should’ve known that!”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Alright, your turn! What’s my guilty pleasure?”

Max smirked, a glint of mischief swirling in his gaze. “You’re definitely a sucker for reality TV. Pretty sure I’ve caught you watching Love Island USA a couple of times.”

“Guilty as charged!” you admitted, laughing along with him. “But I can defend my choices if you want—ahem, it’s simple entertainment!”

His lighthearted ribbing felt warm and right, and the camaraderie between the two of you had grown into a familiar rapport almost effortlessly.

As the Q&A continued, you both slowly drifted into laughter punctuated by thoughtful pauses where a silence spoke volumes.

You began to wonder if he felt the same magnetic pull you were experiencing. In those fleeting glances, you saw a flash of something—curiosity, longing—as if both of you were teetering on the edge of discovery.

Finally, as the game progressed toward the final question, Sarah interrupted with an excited sway. “Alright, I think we’re done for now! This video is definitely going to be a hit.”

You glanced at Max, who still wore that boyish grin—his energy infectious as he reveled in the laughter circulating around the room.

But deeper than that, you felt a weight pressing on your heart, urging you to say something more.

“Hey, Max, can I ask you something?” you called out, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” He looked at you with genuine curiosity, and for a brief moment, it felt as though you were in a bubble, shut away from everyone else.

“About our chemistry—does it mean anything to you?” The question hung in the air like a transmitted spark, and you could see his expression turn serious, the lightness shifting into something deeper.

He took a moment, weighing your words. “Ever since we started being friends, it’s been… different. Fun, but something more,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice resonating through you.

Your heart soared. Max was just as captivated by your chemistry as you were. It was as if some invisible thread had tethered you both, pulling you closer together.

With a casual flip of his cap back to forward, Max held your gaze. The laughter faded, and there you stood, surrounded by the energy of the Red Bull Racing headquarters, but your world had narrowed down to this single moment.

You felt the magnetic connection evolve into something tangible, something real that could break the barriers between colleagues and something much deeper—a thrilling journey ahead sparked by an unexpected electric tension. . . .

You glided down the hallway, adrenaline and excitement coursing through your veins. This was no ordinary night; in an unexpected twist, Max had chosen you to accompany him to an exclusive F1 gala.

You had always seen him as more than just a friend, but the tension between you had never been openly addressed—until now.

The door to the living room gave way, revealing Max perched comfortably on the sofa, his classic black tuxedo accentuating the chiselled lines of his physique. His tousled dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw.

You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked. But when he turned to face you, his expression changed from admiration to sheer shock.

“How do I look?” you asked playfully, knowing full well that the dress you wore clung to your curves in just the right way.

Lifting the last of your earrings into place, you caught his gaze, lingering far too long on your neckline.

Max’s mouth fell slightly open, and he stammered, “I-uh- You look— You look great.”

His eyes seemed glued to your chest, and you smirked at him, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay, let’s keep our thoughts innocent,” you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He blinked rapidly, as if waking from a trance, and his cheeks tinged with a light shade of crimson. “Right. Innocent. Of course.” His voice dropped an octave, trying to regain composure.

“You look—really beautiful. I mean, not that you don’t always…”

You laughed softly, enjoying the fluster you’d caused in the usually confident driver. “Thanks, Max. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He stood up, adjusting the lapels of his tux and shooting you a half-welcoming smile. “Ready to go? I think I’m about to break a world record for the longest time spent staring without saying anything coherent.”

“Let’s get out of here before you break any more records,” you replied, grabbing your clutch and heading toward the door.

The gala was being held at a splendid venue in Monaco, the ambiance glowing with extravagance. The soft sounds of classical music floated through the air as you and Max made your way inside, adorned in gold and silver decorations.

It felt surreal, the elegance around you contrasting sharply with the adrenaline-fueled world of racing that was Max’s daily routine.

As you entered, the murmurs of guests turned into a wave of excitement. “Max! Over here!” A handful of fans spotted him, rushing forward with cameras and excited whispers.

You watched as he interacted with them effortlessly, signing autographs and posing for pictures. A wave of pride washed over you; he was not just a friend but a superstar—one of the best drivers in the world.

After several moments of mingling with his fans, he returned to your side, breathless from the attention.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said, his voice now lowered to an almost intimate whisper. “It’s... a lot sometimes.”

You offered him a warm smile, knowing how taxing the spotlight could be. “It’s nice to see you outside of the track. You can actually relax for once.”

With that notion in mind, he later led you to the bar, where you both ordered drinks—Max preferring a classic whiskey while you chose a sparkling signature cocktail adorned with fresh fruit.

As you sipped your second drink, you turned to him. “So, any secret dreams for the season?”

Max leaned back against the bar, an amused smile stretching across his face. “Well, aside from winning, I might want to one-up my last season’s record. Or maybe…”

He paused dramatically, “I was hoping for a podium finish on our next outing in Italy. It’s always been a special place for me.”

“Why is that? The food, the scenery?” you queried, genuinely curious.

“It’s got the perfect blend of everything. The passion, the fans... And the tire placements at Monza are—well, they’re quite thrilling,” he explained, his enthusiasm evident.

You listened, fascinated by his love for the sport and the intricacies he shared. “I can see why you love it so much,” you replied, “It’s like an art form...”

“Exactly!” His eyes sparked with enthusiasm. “And speaking of art, I could hardly choose an artwork more stunning than you tonight.”

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you chuckled softly. “Smooth, Max. Just remember, I’m not a trophy to be won.”

“More like a prize, then,” he shot back, his grinning eyes glinting in the light.

After what felt like a whirl of conversations and laughter, you noticed the transition in the evening. As Max caught your gaze, he spoke softly, “Say, would you like to dance?”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard. “Dance? I’m not even sure I know how to—”

“You know how to sway, don’t you?” he teased, offering his hand. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you shifted onto the dance floor, surrounded by elegantly dressed couples twirling and gliding with grace. The music faded into an intoxicating sound that seemed to pull you both closer together.

His hand found the small of your back, guiding you smoothly.

“What do you think?” he whispered in your ear as you found your rhythm. “Not so bad, is it?”

“Not bad at all,” you replied, heart racing as you shared his space. The warmth from his body enveloped you, grounding you.

Eventually, the song slowed, and as you swayed in closer, you could feel the heat radiating between you. It was a different rhythm now, one that echoed the unspoken tension of your friendship.

You felt his breath hitch as he leaned closer, inhaling softly.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice earnest.

“Yeah?” You searched his face, and the way his eyes flickered with vulnerability sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’m glad I chose you to come with me tonight,” he admitted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not just a date; you’re... you’re everything.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I care about you. More than just a friend,” he confessed, the courage of his words electrifying.

And there it was, laid bare before you in the most romantic of settings.

“Max, I feel the same.”

His gaze held yours, vulnerability mixing with unfettered joy. The music around you faded, but the world felt suspended in time, just the two of you wrapped in honesty.

He took a breath, then leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours, tentative at first. You melted into the kiss, feeling like the most cherished person in the room.

The night had transformed into something truly unforgettable, and you knew that this moment was the beginning of something beautiful.

You wake up to the insistent buzzing of your phone beside you on the bedside table. Light streams through the curtains, illuminating the chaos of your living room, remnants from the night before—glasses, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of champagne.

You try to ignore the phone, but the buzzing doesn’t stop, and neither does the nauseating flutter of anxiety in your stomach.

“Who is it?” you murmur to yourself, glancing at the screen. Max’s name flashes back at you, and your heart races. Memories come flooding back. The party. The laughter.

His lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made everything else in the room melt away. The kiss—a moment suspended in time, etched forever into your mind.

But then everything changed. The kiss had been captured, and going viral made it feel all too public. You had fallen for him—hard—but now the weight of that kiss felt like a betrayal.

You were terrified it would affect his career, and yet, what happened was beautiful. You cannot reconcile the two.

“God, what have I done?” You bury your face in your hands as shame washes over you. The thought of what the public would say twists like a knife in your heart.

You pick up your phone and stare at it, the guilt tightening its grip on your throat. You tell yourself you should call Max, but what would you even say?

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve ruined everything. You let it ring through to voicemail, your thumb hovering over the disconnect button.

“Hey, it’s Max Verstappen. I’m probably busy right now, but please leave a message.” His cheerful voice rings out, and you hear the tremor of hope in it.

You feel like you might cry, but you can’t give in. Not now. You drop the phone back onto the table, letting out a shaky breath.

A few hours later, you finally get out of bed and make yourself a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will steady your nerves. On impulse, you switch on your laptop.

The first thing you see is a headline blaring from every angle: Max and Y/N: The Viral Kiss That Broke the Internet. Your heart sinks further. This was surreal and terrifying all at once.

“Incredible,” you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes. You want to escape from it all. In that moment, the coffee tastes bitter.

Later that afternoon, you’re stirring the milk when your phone lights up again. It’s Max. You feel a rush of warmth mixed with dread.

You hesitate, fingers trembling as you stare at his name. Finally, you press the button, willing yourself to answer.

“Hello?” his voice is light, almost cheerful, and you can hear how easy it is for him to smile despite the chaos surrounding both of you.

“Max,” you manage, voice shaky. “We need to talk.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “Are you okay?” His concern is palpable. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “About last night… the kiss… the cameras… I can't help but feel like I’ve ruined your career somehow. We’re all over the media, Max! What if it affects your races? Your reputation?”

“Whoa, whoa,” he interjects, clearly caught off guard. “You didn’t ruin anything. Trust me. In fact, I’m glad it happened. I wanted people to know how I feel.”

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” you manage, frustration creeping in. “You’re an F1 driver. Your image matters.”

“Yeah, but my heart matters more,” he replies, and there's an unmistakable intensity in his tone. “You matter more.”

“Max, what do you mean?” Your heart skips a beat. Those words run like electricity through you.

“You and me… last night was amazing—life-changing, actually. I’ve been wanting to be with you for a long time, and it finally happened.” He chuckles softly, the sound bringing a small smile to your lips.

“All the media chatter is just noise. I'm happy people see how I feel about you.”

“You don’t understand. They’ll twist it. They’ll make it sound like you’re just some guy who kisses his fans! This isn’t a good look!”

“Listen,” he says firmly. “If they want to spin it that way, let them. But I know the truth, and so do you. I didn’t kiss a fan; I kissed the person I care about the most. That’s you, and nothing anyone says will change that.”

You feel like you could cry. Max’s words are a balm for your frayed nerves. But still, the doubt claws at you. “What if it backfires? What if it affects your team’s performance?”

“It won’t,” he insists, voice lighter now. “I thrive on pressure. Trust me; if I can drive a Formula 1 car at 200 miles an hour, I can manage whatever they throw at me. More importantly, it’s you I want in my life. Can you at least think about that?”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable. You take a moment, letting it seep in. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason you face backlash.”

“Only if you don’t call back,” he says, teasing you gently. “But seriously, let’s enjoy this. Go out with me, just once, without worrying about the cameras.”

“I don’t even know how the press will react,” you sigh.

“Then surprise them. Pick a restaurant, and I’ll be there.”

You can feel your heart racing as you mull it over, but deep down, something beautiful stirs—a possibility, a spark. You could face the chaos together.

Finally, you admit, “Okay, then. Tomorrow, let’s go to that Italian place we love. But just a warning: I’m not putting on a show for anyone.”

“Perfect. Just you, me, and pasta,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a little.

As you hang up, you stare out the window, meeting your own gaze in the reflection.

The episode before you has unsettled you, but perhaps, just perhaps, you and Max are writing the first chapter of something profound—something that even the world beyond the two of you could never fully understand.

Your heart swells with anticipation for what lies ahead. . . .

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of your room, casting playful patterns on the floor as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your heart raced with excitement and nerves as you brushed the last strokes of mascara on your lashes.

You wanted to look your best, not just for yourself, but for Max. After the viral moment that had your names splashed across every social media feed, meeting up felt like stepping into a whirlwind you couldn’t escape, nor did you want to.

“You look amazing!” your best friend Mia said, planting herself on your bed, her phone in hand. “That dress is perfect for you!”

You twirled in front of the mirror, the fabric swirling around your legs. “Do you think he’ll even notice?” you laughed nervously, trying to inject levity into the situation.

“Are you kidding? Max will definitely notice. He’s been on cloud nine since that kiss!” Mia replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, who wouldn’t be a little distracted by the thought of a girl like you?”

Just then, the sound of your phone buzzing stole your attention. You rushed over, your heart leaping when you saw Max’s name.

“Hey!” you said, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey!” he replied, his voice warm and a little nervous. “I’m outside. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a second!” you hurried to grab your jacket and purse, glancing at Mia over your shoulder. She gave you a thumbs-up and a grin before you dashed down the stairs and out the door.

Max stood leaning against his car, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted navy shirt and jeans that accentuated his athletic figure. His hair was slightly tousled, the sun catching the glint in his blue eyes as he turned to you.

“Wow,” he said, his smile widening. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks! You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, trying to act cool while your cheeks heated up.

“Ready for our big adventure?” he asked, opening the car door for you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a laugh, settling into the passenger seat.

Max drove in a comfortable silence for a while, the radio playing softly in the background as you occasionally glanced at one another, the tension palpable yet exciting. Eventually, you broke the silence.

“So, about that kiss…” you began, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

Max chuckled, a little shyly, “You mean the one that broke the internet?”

“Yeah, that one! Do you think… I mean, how do you feel about it?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

He glanced at you, his expression serious yet playful. “Honestly? I’m still pinching myself. I didn’t expect to get carried away like that, but when I saw you, it was like everything else faded away.”

“Same here,” you admitted, your gaze locked onto his profile, trying to decipher his thoughts. “But now the whole world knows, and that’s a little overwhelming.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. I wasn’t ready for the headlines either. But I kind of love that we’re doing this together, even if people are watching.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with the attention?” you asked, concern flickering across your features. “I mean, we didn’t even talk about what this means.”

Max reached over and placed his hand on yours, sending a warm jolt through your arm. “I’m okay with it because it’s you. I like you, and I want to see where this can go, with all the chaos around us.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at his words. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a sincerity that made your breath catch. “So, how about we forget about the cameras and just enjoy our time together?”

Nodding eagerly, you felt a surge of relief wash over you. “I’d like that.”

You spent the afternoon at a quaint café downtown, the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee setting a cozy atmosphere. You shared stories over pastries, laughter ringing between you both as you learned more about one another.

“Okay, your turn,” you said after Max revealed his embarrassing childhood nickname. “What’s your biggest fear?”

Max took a moment to think, a slight furrow spreading across his brow. “Honestly? Losing the people I care about. Being a driver means that you travel a lot which means you lose friends quickly.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling a rush of empathy.

“It’s alright,” he said quickly, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “It taught me to value the people in my life even more. I guess that’s why I feel so lucky to have met you.”

Your heart fluttered as he leaned in slightly, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Also, I’m terrified of clowns.”

You burst into laughter, the tension from earlier melting away. “Oh come on! You can’t be serious.”

“I am! They’re just so unpredictable,” he insisted, his expression mock-stern. “One minute they’re juggling, and the next, they’re doing who knows what.”

You continued to share stories and tease each other, the world beyond the restaurant fading away. It wasn’t until you stepped out into the warm evening that you realized just how much you enjoyed his company.

“Wanna take a walk?” Max suggested, his hand naturally finding yours.

“I’d love to,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with his while you strolled through the twinkling lights of the downtown streets.

As you walked, the conversation flowed easily, your laughter mingling with the warm evening breeze. With every passing moment, the nervousness that had initially gripped you dissipated, replaced by a growing affection.

Then, as you rounded a quieter corner near the park, Max paused, turning to face me. The city lights danced in his eyes, and the warmth between you two was undeniable.

“Can I—” he hesitated, his gaze searching yours, “Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering wildly. “Definitely.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours, igniting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. This kiss was different, deeper, and more meaningful than the last—an unspoken promise of what was to come.

You pulled away, and you laughed breathlessly, trying to catch your breath.

“You know, if this goes viral too, at least it’ll be a better story,” Max teased, a charming smile spreading across his face.

“Let them talk!” you giggled, feeling a wave of confidence wash over you. “As long as it’s with you, I’m in.”

“Good,” he replied, his expression sincere. “Because I think we’re just getting started.”

With that, hand in hand, you continued your stroll, the world around you two fading into a beautiful blur as you embraced the adventure that lay ahead—together.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the paddock. You and Max walked hand in hand, the sensation both electrifying and soothing.

The world had made a spectacle of your private moment, and now, as you stepped into the paddock, everyone watched, their eyes glimmering with curiosity and amusement.

“Why do you have to look at me like that? It’s making me weak, please stop,” you said, your voice a soft murmur as you caught his gaze.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something deeper—an unspoken promise that made your heart race.

Max chuckled, a warm laugh that seemed to drown out the chatter of the surrounding crowd. “Look at you, though. How can I not? You’re stunning today,” he said, his fingers gently squeezing yours.

He was always so effortless, a confidence that could light up a room, and now he was casting that glow on you.

You blushed slightly, trying to suppress a smile. “You know that’s not fair. You always know what to say to make me squirm,” you replied playfully, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“I’m just being honest,” he replied, turning serious for a moment. “You have to know how lucky I feel. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone.

The sincerity in his words made you feel exposed, yet cherished.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Lucky, huh? You’re the one racing in the fastest cars in the world. I’m just here, taking selfies and trying not to trip over all the cables.”

He squeezed your hand, a reassuring gesture that made you feel as if the two of you were in your own little world, separate from the high-octane chaos surrounding you. “Nah, the real race is in my heart. And you’ve won it.”

“Smooth talker,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully, though your heart fluttered at his words. “Just wait until you end up on the podium again; you’ll be too busy celebrating to remember little ol’ me.”

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice filled with conviction. “You know I’d dedicate every race to you if I could. Last time on the podium—remember? I pointed to you. That was for you.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, your smile wide. “You were practically glowing. It was such an amazing moment.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier,” Max said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “Every time I look at you, I get reminded of what really matters.”

“Okay, now you’re going to make me cry,” you joked, but there was a hint of sincerity in your tone. “Don’t ruin my makeup, please!”

Max laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “I promise, I won’t deliberately make you cry. But you are basically my good luck charm. You have to come to every race now.”

“Deal. But I get to pick the after-party spots,” you replied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Who said I was going to take you to an after-party? I might want to just take you home and cook you dinner.”

“Cook? You?” You laughed. “I thought you’d just rely on takeout after the races.”

“I can surprise you,” he said with a smirk. “Besides, there’s something nice about a home-cooked meal. Wouldn’t you want to try my pasta? I’ve perfected it over the years.”

“Fine, but it better not be like the time you tried to make pancakes and turned them into a science experiment,” you shot back, remembering the sticky disaster that had resulted in laughter and flour-coated walls.

“Hey! That was one time. I’m much better now,” he insisted, pretending to be offended. But the twinkle in his eyes told you he was just teasing.

As you walked past the team garages, you noticed the crew setting up for the next race, and the adrenaline of the environment pulsed through you. “Max, look at all of this hustle and bustle. Doesn’t it make your heart race?”

He nodded, his expression serious now as he gazed at the busy scene. “Definitely. It’s the thrill of competition—everyone’s working hard for one goal. But to me, nothing compares to this moment with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

“I try my best,” he admitted, a playful grin returning. “But honestly, you inspire me to push harder, to be better. I want to win races, not just for myself, but for you.”

“Max, that’s so sweet. Just promise me you won’t risk it all out there. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

His expression softened, and he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them gently. “I promise. I’ll always be careful. You and I have a lifetime of moments to create together, and I won’t let anything take that away.”

You both stood there for a moment, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as you simply enjoyed each other’s company. The world around you became a blur, and it felt as if time stood still.

“Alright, what’s next on our agenda?” Max asked, breaking the spell of the moment.

You glanced around thoughtfully. “How about we grab a bite to eat? I’m starving.”

“Perfect! I know this great place just down the road. And after that, I’ll show you my secret hiding spot in the paddock where I keep my trophies,” he said, winking at you.

“Trophies and secrets? You really do know how to woo a girl,” you replied, playfully nudging him as you both started walking toward the exit.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve,” he said confidently, pulling you closer as you stepped into the evening light, hand in hand, ready to face whatever adventures were ahead. "You are my priority after all,"

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Walking Across That Stage

It was my convocation today (whoot whoot) so here are just some quick headcanons about the cast when they get to graduate from NRC ^^ -----------------------------------------------------------------

Heartslaybul

Riddle: By his fourth year, he's started to embrace a little bit more of his rebellious spirit - while he would never be rude or rowdy in front of his instructors, he had fun customizing his cap and gown (and in my oc's canon, he would have done it with his recently re-connected big sister and dad's help ^^). He's also the type to have brought a gift for each of his instructors with a handwritten note thanking them for their guidance over the past four years.

Trey: He wants to get across that stage as soon as possible OTL my mans doesn't do so much as look at the audience, his eyes are on Crowley and Crowley alone to shake his hand and get the fuck off of the stage. It's the after celebration events he enjoys more, especially the photobooth areas he can get pictures taken with his siblings.

Cater: He's livestreaming babe you already know this, he hypes up the crowd as he crosses, and poses with the faculty in the background as he livestreams and takes a few selfies. He manages to sneak a few extra photos with the headmage and has major party plans for after the ceremony.

Deuce: He's so nervous bless his heart OTL he's wiping his hands on his gown over and over again because he doesn't want the headmage to think he has sweaty gross hands. Once he starts walking and his mom is cheering for him, his nerves melt away a little and he's able to get a good picture with Crowley.

Ace: He put in a good word with the sound tech to play himself a theme song for his walk across the stage. It was going to be epic but then his brother kinda drowned out the song by blowing an airhorn and cheering for him from the very back. It still put a HUGE smile on Ace's face, he waves to everyone but mostly he's waving to his brother in the very back.

Savannaclaw

Leona: Only there because his sister in law said he had to LMAO There is a LOT of cheering when his name is called, and it honestly....feels really good. Even if it's not a feeling that lasts a long time, there are people other than his blood family rooting for him, proud of him, and in that moment he can actually let himself feel it. He even graces the headmage with a smile. He does not sit in for the rest of the ceremony, he sneaks out to avoid having to talk to his family after and getting caught in the crowd.

Ruggie: He is SO proud of himself, and rightfully so. He takes up a photo of his grandma to show off while he walks across the stage, (and the back of his gown is signed by all his siblings, which he shows off), the room filling with little yips and yelps from the little kids that his grandma managed to wrangle to come see him. He ends up crying that night because he heard some of the kids saying they want to be like him when they grow up; meaning he had provided them the hope that his grandma had for him. It means the world to him.

Jack: He's a little less strict with himself come forth year. As one of the best athletes in school there's a lot of cheering for him too. He does a classic chest thump into a fist pump as acknowledgement, but the Coolness Factor he felt he has is downplayed a little bit by just how fast his tail is wagging under his gown.

Octavinelle

Azul: He will take longer to grow into himself than just two years, but that's okay! He's very classy, offering a wave to his loved ones before focusing on his handshake with the headmage - during which he slips him his new, updated business card. He's a young entrepreneur, the grind never stops, having connections in high places is important, okay???

Jade: He did not want to go. Honestly. The bright lights, the crowds, the waiting around, all of it seemed a complete waste of time, save for the fact that his classmates were all going; and making connections, fostering them, means having shared memories. Once he does walk he finds it's not so bad, but at no point does he dare look into the audience while he's on stage. His favourite part is the swag bag at the end, where all the clubs are featured via stickers.

Floyd: HE'S SO EXCITED BRO he bought brand new light up shoes and he shoes them off as he like. Half dances half walks across the stage. Yes, he does make Crowley catch him in a dip. Everyone agrees its the best photo any student has gotten during graduation, simply because of how baffled Crowley looks. And...well....nobody can prove which student threw their cap at Crowley rather than into the air but there is one really strong suspicion...

Scarabia

Kalim: He honestly didn't think he would make it LOL when he goes on stage he has a flag of the Scalding Sands he carries with him on his back, showing it off with pride as he dances over to Crowley. He shakes his hand so hard Crowley thinks it's going to fall off. He's not mic'd but he yells a thank you out to everybody before he the next person is announced.

Jamil: He debated not going, but by fourth year he has stopped living in Kalim's shadow to the same extent he used to. The wave of pride that washes over him when his name is announced, followed by 'with Honours' is almost overwhelming. His sister is the sole person who cheers for him among the applause, causing him to break out into a genuine, slightly embarrassed smile just in time for the photo.

Pomefiore

Vil: (she/her pronouns used as JPN would indicate for post chapter 5) She crosses the stage with the same poise and grace as she would for any other type of awards show, only the prop she carries is a bouquet of flowers from her father. She didn't want him to come to the ceremony itself to avoid any other schoolmates finding out about their relationship to each other, so the roses she carries is her way of keeping him with her as she walks across, though she knows he's watching the live stream of the entire ceremony. Once it's done she'll get the best gift of all; some quality time with her dad.

Rook: He doesn't cross the stage. He would rather take pictures of everyone, and that way he doesn't have to face the fact nobody would have come to cheer for him anyways...not that he put an invitation out.

Epel: His meemaw embroidered his gown to have his last name along the bottom edge, but also custom apple designs. Even though she's the only one who was able to make it out to come see him cross the stage, her cheer drowns out everyone else. Nobody understands what Epel yells back, but it's clear he's ELATED, and maybe something about how his grandma is better than yours as he shows off her work.

Ignihyde

Idia: Lol yeah he's not going, he's at home having a gaming party with his family to celebrate, 72 hours straight of non stop gaming marathon, followed by a week of no human interaction. It's perfect. He's happy. He is proud of himself though; once his diploma is mailed to him he puts it up on his wall.

Ortho: He's SO excited. Idia has dragged himself out to come support him, but he also has a custom build for graduation. His party canons go off while he's shaking the headmage's hand, overtaking Floyd's 'best picture ever', as it scared the living daylights out of Crowley. (Unfortunately because he is slightly younger than everyone else my brain is saying he does. he does hit the griddy as he crosses the stage. You guys can have that mental image with me you're welcome).

Diasomnia

Malleus: Everyone expects him to be as serious as usual, but because Cater is before him he does wanna be a little silly. He can't think of anything right off the bat, but when he steps out he uses his magic to project a giant 'thank you' above the audience. (He almost used fire but remembered the sprinklers at the last second). However when he goes to shake the headmage's hand, he takes the opportunity to threaten him should Yuu be put in danger again. :)

Lilia: He spends the entirety of fourth year to build up the belief that he needs a cane, that his hearing and sight is declining, etc. Everything he can think of to make himself seem old. Just so that when his name is called he can bust a move on stage like a one man flash mob OTL he ends up actually tweaking something but he doesn't show it, he just floats across to alleviate it. Baul makes fun of him after because he knows EXACTLY what happened.

Silver: His last name puts him near the very end of his graduating class, so he is exceptionally worried about falling asleep and not being able to wake up to walk the stage, especially as strong emotions like excitement and stress trigger his narcolepsy (yes I HC him with type 1 narcolepsy). His classmates take plenty of photos and videos for him, but it's Riddle who ends up pulling through by quietly playing an audio clip of Silver's horse from when it had been startled, which woke him up immediately. He has a HUGE smile as he walks across the stage because he did it, against all odds, he made it.

Sebek: He's super superstitious to me, the hours leading up to grad, he was stuffing his sock, his cap, his gown, his pockets, everything with good luck charms. As the very last person to cross the stage in his grade, he just wants to make the best impression he can on the faculty, on the audience, and on Malleus. However, he is That Guy when he ends up tripping on his own feet. He recovers easily, but he's embarrassed still. He lights up again when he sees Malleus smiling, only for his cheeks to go pink once more as he shakes Crowley's hand and his dad calls out how proud he is of him.

Sorry if this got repetitive lol I have been in a creative block for a while and this is also kind of a way for me to try and break out of it. If you guys have requests for headcanons or scenarios please don't be shy to send them in.

Taglist: @tixdixl @theleechyskrunkly @galacticstationsblog @sunsmilu @starry-night-rose @thehollowwriter @nemisisnemi @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @elenauaurs

As always, lmk if you wanna be added/removed

Love y'all ^^

[tenzingfilm]

The high-profile shoot for Tenzing—Apple's Everest drama starring Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe—could boost Nepal's global profile, following films like Doctor Strange and Everest, while highlighting the country’s cultural heritage and natural

A wave of excitement swept through the streets of Kathmandu this week as Hollywood stars Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe were spotted filming in Nepal for Tenzing, an upcoming high-profile mountaineering drama backed by Apple.

The film, which tells the story of Sherpa legend Tenzing Norgay, who summited Mount Everest with Sir Edmund Hillary in 1953, has transformed historic sites like Patan Durbar Square into cinematic sets. Locals and tourists watched in fascination as camera crews worked intermittently from Sunday through Monday, with the actors drawing crowds and setting Nepal’s TikTok sphere alight with selfies and behind-the-scenes clips.

The production team is expected to head to the Everest region in the coming days, though specific locations remain undisclosed. Officials welcomed the film’s presence, saying it will help bring international attention to Nepal’s mountain heritage.

“Tenzing” was recently acquired by Apple, which secured worldwide rights to the film in a deal that sold out of the Cannes film market, according to The Hollywood Reporter. Hiddleston stars as New Zealander Edmund Hillary, while Dafoe takes on the role of Colonel John Hunt, the British expedition leader. Casting is currently underway for the title role of Tenzing Norgay.

The film will be directed by Jennifer Peedom, known for her acclaimed documentaries Sherpa and Mountain. Peedom has a long-standing relationship with the Tenzing family and the broader Sherpa community. The screenplay is written by Oscar-nominated Lion writer Luke Davies.

Tom Hiddleston and Willem Dafoe are both acclaimed for their versatility. Hiddleston rose to international fame as Loki in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, while Dafoe, a four-time Academy Award nominee, has earned critical acclaim for performances in The Lighthouse, The Florida Project, Platoon, and Spider-Man.

Nepal has long attracted international film productions, especially those set against the backdrop of Everest. Films like Everest (2015) and Marvel's Doctor Strange (2016), which featured scenes shot in Kathmandu, have helped raise the country's global cinematic profile. Observers say projects like Tenzing not only highlight the Sherpa community's pivotal role in mountaineering history but also reinforce Nepal’s status as a destination for adventure tourism and cultural storytelling.

[u6is]

f2f

You couldn't let go of Victor enough. That was why you'd done this, why you'd let Jeremy fuck you in his car outside the very place where Victor was likely still celebrating.

"i fuck him cause i miss you"

—jeremy sochan x reader: smut

The stadium lights had barely dimmed, and the roar of the crowd was still reverberating in your ears as you reluctantly made your way to the post-game party.

The Spurs had just scored a victory so epic that it felt like the city itself had won. Every face was painted with a grin, every voice raised in jovial chatter. Normally, you would have been thrilled to be part of this electric atmosphere, but tonight was different. Tonight, the very reason for your hesitation would be the center of attention: Victor Wembanyama.

Back when Victor was still climbing the ranks of basketball stardom, you shared a fiery romance that ended in a messy breakup. Years had passed, and you had moved on, but the thought of facing him in such a public setting sent a shiver down your spine.

You had been invited by a mutual friend. Despite the awkwardness, you agreed to go because ever since you were a kid, you had been supporting this beautiful team.

The Spurs were more than just a bunch of players to you; they were a symbol of unity, resilience, and hope. You had grown up watching their games, cheering them on through the highs and lows, and this victory was something you couldn't miss out on.

As you pushed through the throngs of people, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence, like a looming shadow cast by his towering frame and the glitz of his celebrity status.

Everything was going nicer than you could have imagined. The music was just the right volume, the drinks were cold, and the conversations were easy. You couldn't help but let your guard down and truly enjoy the party. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Victor casting a few glances in your direction. At first, you dismissed it as coincidence, but as the night went on, the frequency of his glances grew, and you began to feel a flutter in your stomach.

You tried to keep your eyes on your own group of friends, but every now and then, your gaze would drift to where Victor stood, his eyes always seeming to lock onto yours for a brief moment before quickly looking away. The tension was palpable, but no one else seemed to notice the silent dance you two were engaged in across the crowded room. His teammates were busy celebrating, leaving him to his own devices, which mostly consisted of nursing a drink and watching the party unfold around him.

As night progressed, the crowd grew wilder. Celebrities who were die-hard Spurs fans had started to arrive, adding an extra layer of glamour and chaos to the mix. You spotted a few Hollywood A-listers mingling with the players, their laughter echoing off the walls.

Players you had only ever seen in their jerseys were scattered around the venue in casual attire, Stephon face flushed with excitement and alcohol. Devin were taking selfies, and sipping on his drink, David eyes gleaming with the same energy that had propelled them to victory on the court. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and the sweet aroma of victory.

Then, amidst the chaos, Jeremy Sochan, Victor's closest teammate, approached your circle. His infectious smile was a beacon in the sea of faces, and before you knew it, he was slapping high-fives and exchanging laughs with your friends. You had met Jeremy a few times before, and he had always been friendly, but tonight, he was especially buoyant. His eyes sparkled with the joy of the win and the thrill of the night.

As the party buzzed around you, laughter and music filling the space, Jeremy leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper just above the noise.

"Hey, it’s been a while… and you’re still just as pretty as ever."

You felt your heart skip.

A reaction you weren’t sure was for him or for the weight his words carried. Jeremy had always been charming, always had that easy confidence, but tonight, with the heat of his gaze on you, something felt different.

Maybe it was the drinks lowering your guard, or maybe it was the way Victor stood just a few feet away, his presence lingering like a ghost.

You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

You shouldn’t be comparing the warmth of Jeremy’s attention to the way Victor used to look at you.

But as Jeremy’s gaze lingered, warm and inviting, and Victor just within reach yet miles away, you let yourself enjoy it.

Just for a moment.

As the party wound down, the music grew softer, the lights dimmer. Jeremy had his arm around you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort of familiarity.

And somehow, before you even realized it, you were leaving with Jeremy, his hand wrapped around yours, steady and sure. Maybe it was the drinks that led you here...or maybe it was something else entirely.

The whiskey had a way of smoothing the edges of reality, making the world a softer, more forgiving place. Or maybe it was the desire to escape the ghostly shadow of Victor that had been haunting you all night.

As you stepped into the cool night air, the reality of the situation began to set in. You were leaving with someone else, someone who wasn't Victor, and that realization hit you like a cold shower. But Jeremy's hand was warm, his grip firm and reassuring, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill as he opened the door to his sleek sports car and helped you inside.

Once the door was shut, you didn't waste a second. You leaned in, and Jeremy met you halfway, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that surprised you. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, and you found yourself moaning, the sound muffled by his insistent kisses. It had been so long since you'd felt this kind of heat, this kind of passion, and it was intoxicating. You didn't bother to hide your desire as you tangled your hands in his hair, pulling him closer, the fabric of his shirt bunching under your fingers.

Jeremy's touch was gentle yet firm, exploring your body as if it were a map he had studied for years but never quite dared to touch. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the thrill of the moment, but you didn't care. You had been starved for this kind of connection, and you were going to revel in it.

The kiss grew hotter, his hands roaming down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. The leather seats of the car creaked under your weight, and you felt a rush of heat between your legs as you straddled him. Your skirt rode up, and you didn't bother to adjust it, the thrill of exposure adding to the intensity of the moment. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles shift beneath his shirt, a reminder of the athlete's body beneath.

Jeremy's hands moved up your thighs, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your panties. You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He broke the kiss to look at you, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Is this what you want?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You nodded, breathless, and the words tumbled from your mouth,

"Yes, Jeremy, I want this."

The fire in his eyes grew brighter, and he didn't waste any more time. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you back down to him as he claimed your mouth once more. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. You felt his hands slide under your shirt, his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, sending goosebumps down your spine.

Your breath hitched as he unhooked your bra with surprising deftness, freeing your breasts. He took one in his hand, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. You whimpered into his mouth, your body arching towards him. He took the hint and pulled your shirt off, tossing it aside without a care in the world. His mouth trailed down your neck, leaving a hot path of kisses and nibbles that made you shiver with excitement.

His other hand slipped between your legs, the pressure of his fingers on your clit making you squirm with need. You were soaking wet, and he didn't even bother to hide his groan of satisfaction as he felt how ready you were. He slid a finger inside you, and you moaned, the feeling of fullness overwhelming. His movements grew more urgent, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back in your head. You could feel an orgasm building, the pressure coiling in your stomach, tightening your muscles around him.

The world outside the car faded away, and all that existed was the two of you, your bodies entwined, the sound of your muffled moans and the occasional cheer from a passing fan.

You didn't care.

All you cared about was the way Jeremy's hand felt, the way his tongue tasted, the way his breath hitched when you ground down on his fingers.

You could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants, and the thought of having him inside you made you wetter. You reached down, fumbling with his zipper, and he groaned as you freed him. Your hand wrapped around his thick length, stroking him with the same urgency he had used on you. He was hot and velvety in your grip, and you couldn't wait to feel him fill you up.

With a growl, Jeremy lifted you off his lap and repositioned you in the passenger seat, pushing your legs apart. He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed down your neck, his tongue tracing the line of your collarbone. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, and you knew he was just as eager as you were. His hand found your panties once more, sliding them down your legs, exposing you to the cool night air. You didn't care about the risk, about who might see, all that mattered was the heat building between your legs, the desperate need to have him inside you.

His fingers found your slick folds again, and he began to rub your clit in slow, torturous circles, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way it burned with an intensity that was almost frightening. His thumb slid over the sensitive bud, and you bit your lip to keep from screaming. You could feel the orgasm building, your hips rising to meet his touch, your entire body begging for release.

And then, with a swift movement, he was inside you. You gasped as he filled you, stretching you in the most delicious way. The car rocked slightly with the force of his thrusts, and you had to grip the seat to keep from falling off. It was fast, it was raw, it was everything you hadn't known you needed. His hands were everywhere, holding you down, caressing your breasts, gripping your hips, urging you to meet him, to take all of him.

Your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his movements. You couldn't believe this was happening, that you were here with Jeremy Sochan and he was fucking you like you were the only woman in the world. The thought made you wetter, made you want to come even harder. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on with every gasp and whine that escaped your lips.

But as the pleasure grew...

You realized that you were only doing this because you missed Victor, because his absence was a constant ache in your chest that you had been trying to fill with anything else. Jeremy was just a stand-in, a way to distract yourself from the pain of watching the man you loved celebrate with everyone else. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to block out the sight of Victor's face, but his image was burned into the back of your eyelids, a stark reminder of what you were doing.

With every stroke of Jeremy's cock, your mind raced back to Victor, the way he used to fill you so completely, the way his eyes would darken with passion as he took you.

Your cunt tightened around Jeremy's shaft, as if it was trying to hold on to the ghost of Victor. The pleasure was intense, a mix of the physical and the emotional, a bittersweet symphony playing out in the most intimate part of your body.

"Jeremy..."

And for a split second, you imagined it was Victor's face above you, his eyes filled with the same hunger that Jeremy's were. It was wrong, you knew it, but the feeling was undeniable, a betrayal and a release all rolled into one.

Jeremy's hands were rough on your skin, leaving trails of fire wherever he touched. He kissed you hard, his teeth scraping against your lower lip as he picked up the pace. You could feel his muscles strain, the power behind each thrust. His breathing grew ragged, and you knew he was close.

You reached down, your hand joining his, and together, you worked your clit, the friction making the pleasure almost unbearable.

"Fuck…" he groaned, eyes dark with hunger as he watched his cock disappear into you, over and over, slick and stretched around him. The filthy sight of it, the way you gripped him so perfectly, had his head spinning.

"Look at you," he rasped, voice thick with desire. "Letting me ruin you like this."

My friend's ex, wrapped around my cock, taking every inch. The thought alone sent a wicked thrill down his spine, and he thrust deeper, harder, chasing the heat that neither of you should've been craving but neither of you could stop.

With a gasp, you felt yourself start to come apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You tightened around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you screamed his name. The car windows fogged up, your moans intertwining with the distant cheers of the crowd still echoing from the party inside.

Jeremy's eyes never left yours as he watched you come, his own release building. His hips snapped upward, and he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you up with his seed. The intensity of it made your toes curl, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

As the aftermath settled, Jeremy pulled out and leaned back in his seat, panting. He looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and confusion, as if he hadn't expected the raw emotion that had just played out between you. You quickly adjusted your clothes, avoiding his gaze as you did so.

You couldn't let go of Victor enough. That was why you'd done this, why you'd let Jeremy fuck you in his car outside the very place where Victor was likely still celebrating. You missed Victor's touch, his smell, and the way his voice made you feel alive. And here you were, with his best friend, seeking comfort in his arms because you were too much of a coward to face the truth of what you'd lost.

The taste of Jeremy's kiss lingered on your lips, but it was Victor's name you whispered against his skin as you came down from your high.

You didn't love Jeremy, and you knew he didn't love you.

This was just two people caught in the crossfire of their own pain, trying to find solace in the wrong place.

this fic is heavily inspired by SZA's song F2F. lol, don’t hate me <3

i want to create a part 2 ^^ this time from both victor's and the reader's points of view heheh

[karazor--el]

#Repost @BitsieTulloch Officially over halfway through our final season of #SupermanAndLois. Some selfies from this season so far. Trying to enjoy every last moment with our amazing crew and cast. Thank you to our writers for writing such an amazing, heartbreaking, epic final season.

💞

[skull-survivors-rotomblr]

Okay so on the odd gear pokemon situation that's a magearna you can sort of think of it as the first porygon a man made pokemon of sorts probably just really likes your klang also there really rare I think only a couple exist lucky you umm there fairy steel type so right up your ally and it has a personality similar to that of DeeDee and indeedee if you have ever heard of those

You mean to tell me that my bum ass is being tailed by a fucking MYTHICAL? Arceus help me…I am NOT equipped for a ‘chosen one’-type adventure rn.

It keeps trying to drag me someplace and I just…man, I cannot go on an Epic Quest for this creature. It’s too damn cute though…

Might keep it around until I’m prepared for whatever the hell it wants from me. 💀 Not like I have much of a choice. The thing won’t leave me alone.

[Photo ID: A hastily taken selfie where about half Demi’s face is visible. Her one in-frame eye is looking to the left. In the lower left of the frame is a Magearna standing ominously at the end of a narrow hallway. The lights are off, but its eyes cast an eerie pink light in the enclosed space].

[arickaandherfictionalothers]

You can hear it in the silence

(Aricka x Buck)

(Another part of the “begin again” anthology of Aricka and Buck’s epic love story)

One look, dark room

Meant just for you…

Aricka had never attended the LAFD Gala before, but Buck had asked her to be his date, and she willingly accepted, and was now clad in a light pink, satin, mermaid style dress, matching heels, and her hair curled and pulled away from her face with a pink bow.

She looks across the dimly lit room, and Buck meets her gaze, making his way to her. “May I have this dance?” He offers his hand; and she found herself- as she repeatedly had been- reaching back for him. He leads her to the dance floor, and they begin to sway in a circle, talking softly and laughing even quieter.

Small talk, he drives

Coffee at midnight…

She had gotten used to late night drives in Buck’s Jeep, him holding her hand over the center console, driving to their favorite midnight coffee spot, him ordering their usual orders before going to a nearby lookout spot to stargaze.

The light reflects

The chain on your neck…

She wraps herself in the blanket he’d taken to keep in his car in case she got cold, and looking at him she felt the love in her heart growing. The moon was full, illuminating the chain on her neck- the beautiful rose necklace he got her, one she found herself wearing more and more often.

“Look up,” he says, and she does, only for him to kiss her softly, tenderly. It left her melting into a puddle, her stomach swarming with butterflies.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you…

He takes her back to her place, walks her to the door, where they linger. She chews her lower lip, he rubs the back of his neck.

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love…

He kisses her, tells her to “draw good” then next day; something he’d started saying on their second date and it never failed to make her laugh.

She was hopelessly, irrevocably, totally, in love. But not just any kind of love- but the fairy tale kind, the one that people dreamed of finding.

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday…

One day; she woke up in his bed- he had practically pushed her into the bed, taking the couch that night so neither of them had to say goodbye.

She sneaks to the kitchen; kisses him; and it ensues in a soft, innocent make-out session that lead to burnt toast and giddy giggles.

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word…

One night, she wears his LAFD hoodie home, the block letters screaming BUCKLEY on the back making her feel so very claimed and special and loved.

He never breaks a promise, always shows up, always makes her feel like she’s the only girl alive: and in return she does the same for him, and she can tell he appreciates it as much as she does.

You kiss on sidewalks

You fight and you talk…

They kiss in the rain, they argue and compromise, they are slowly becoming a team, a partnership, a love based on a friendship they would always value.

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps the picture of you in his locker downtown…

One day, Eddie texts Aricka a picture- it’s of Buck’s locker interior- hanging on the door is a picture of the two of them, a selfie of her kissing his cheek, Buck’s eyes closed, both of them blissfully in love, the golden sunset glow cast over them.

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars…

And now Aricka understood why love was a thing worth fighting for, because Buck made her want to fight for it, want to keep this beautifully fragile thing they’ve been creating to keep growing.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love…

One day, after they’re married, Aricka wakes up before Buck; and there, in the silence, she feels it.

She’s in love. She has been from the beginning.

And she never wanted to lose that feeling.

She never did.

—————

@astralshipper @rosieshipper @hyperionshipping @yeehawselfshipping @letsgofoletsgo @callsign-revenge

[cecilbaldwin-fan]

Did I tell you about the time @symphonysanders and I went to the #sandiegozoo? #tourlife

From Cecil’s Instagram.

[teruthecreator]

berdly’s phone consists of the following:

-shitty, overpriced phone charm he bought at his first convention that always falls off

-redbubble phone case of a poorly-cropped, blurry image of the Super Smashing Fighters cast

-a few of those visual novel app games that have anime men text you in the middle of the night

-clash of clans 

-cookie run kingdom 

-flappy bird (”of course i have flappy bird, kris! you can’t download it from the app store anymore! why would i throw away such a priceless relice!?”) 

-a photo album of fanart he screenshotted from deviantart, with the occasional mirror selfie of him in his “gaming attire” (read: graphic t-shirts, gaming headphones his parents bought him for christmas, a single black fedora he’s yet to retire, etc.) 

-his contacts, which consist of: noelle, his mother, his father, and kris (but their name is MORTAL ENEMY with poop emojis surrounding it) 

-his music (which is all illegally downloaded--his single crime) that is mostly video game osts, the entire legacy of Epic Rap Battles of History, a few ray william johnson songs, lemon demon’s entire discography, and some songs from flight of the conchords

-and, finally, his notes app--filled to the brim with all the fanfiction he can’t post to the internet because his mom blocked the family computer from fanfiction.net wattpad and ao3, and he’s too scared of making the family go over their data plan if he posts it from his phone

[jessamine-rose]

♡ Let’s Make a Mug Together ♡

The wholesome, romantic activity of making a mug together…..but with the whole cast bc what is Obey Me! if not chaos and everyone fighting over Mc?? Fufufu~ I’m not very confident in writing for Obey Me! but I wanted to flesh out this idea I’ve had for our beloved demon brothers and side characters!! I hope I gave them justice  ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Spoiler warnings:: Main Story lore up to Season 3 in Belphegor, Simeon, Luke, and Solomon’s parts

♡ Lucifer’s mug is simple but elegant. He goes for a classic, practical shape painted in shades of black and grey, with either deep blue or brilliant red accents for a pop of color. If you compliment his mug, he will respond with his classic smirk and a hand over his chest. “It’s just a mug. It doesn’t have to be overly complex or garish.” *eyes his brothers*

♡ Unfortunately, the calming nature of the pottery workshop is disrupted by his brothers’ constant arguments. Which results in Lucifer threatening to reshape them like clay before a clay war or a paint fight breaks out. Whenever that happens, Satan and Belphie will sneakily attempt to hex his mug  ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ

♡ Right off the bat, Mammon proclaims that his mug will clearly be the best!! The first time he touches the pottery wheel is…...an epic fail, as quoted by Levi. Once his mug has the right shape, Mammon will go for a striking design in black, yellow, and gold. The entire process would have taken less time if he hadn’t been competing with his brothers -.-

♡ He will insist on sitting beside you at the painting table. Halfway, you will glance at his mug and see…….isn’t that detail similar to your own design?? “Oi, what are ya lookin’ at?? Huh?? I-It’s not like the Great Mammon wants our mugs to match or anythin’!! And don’t you dare let my brothers try to match with you, got it??” (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

♡ Even in a pottery workshop, Leviathan’s otaku speech is activated. “Waaaaaa this reminds me of that anime Let’s Make a Cauldron Too about pottery from the human world!! The protagonists were a mix of professionals and novices but they were all able to make such great designs!! Aaahh and one of them was good at making fun, moe sculptures--I wonder if I can copy her technique?? The--” “We get it, Levi!!”

♡ Don’t underestimate Levi’s art skills!! He makes good work of the assorted paints and brushes to illustrate a flattering likeness of Ruri-chan and Azuki-tan!! Later on, he shyly offers you a drink from his mug…….and would you look at that?? He sculpted some mini goldfish inside so it looks like an army of Henry’s is swimming in your tea!!  (╯✧▽✧)╯彡✿

♡ Satan chooses cat designs!! His mug very much resembles a cat, with two sculpted cat-ear triangles on the rim and a tail for the handle. Or even better, what about a bunch of mini cats climbing the rim, handle, and surface of his mug??!! Satan will paint them with a variety of patterns and faces. It is a catty design which he adores and which won’t be compared to any of Lucifer’s ideas--

♡ He may offer to paint a small addition to your mug. Just a minor detail which no one will notice…...after your mug is glazed and washed, he insists on making dark coffee to maintain the surprise. When you finish your drink, you will find a secret message cleverly painted on the bottom interior of your mug. "I hope your day is full of joy. ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ"

♡ Asmodeus’s mug needs to be gorgeous and creative to complement his beauty!! He incorporates some of his nail art techniques to paint a glamorous, one-of-a-kind mug worthy of his lips. As a finishing touch, he presses his lips against the glazed mug to leave behind a pink kiss mark. Would you like one, too~ “We don’t want any of your gross kisses, Asmo!!” “Aww, are you sure?? <3”

♡ He uses his mug for Devilgram selfies!! Soon enough, his account will be filled with pictures of aesthetic drinks within the fabulous mug…...but the focus will always be on Asmodeus as he holds the mug with a bright smile, of course!! Doesn’t he make the prettiest beverage model?? („─‿─„) ♡

♡ Beelzebub’s mug is amazingly oversized. It might as well be mistaken for a bowl or a pitcher, considering how gigantic it is. “Beel, how many drinks are you trying to fit in there??!!” “It’s big enough so I can fit all of the vegetables and rice when we have curry.” “Are you saying that curry is a drink??!!”

♡ On top of that, Beel’s art skills are simply horrific. After much thinking with Belphie, he paints on his mug a simple sunrise gradient of solid warm colors.....Then he decides to draw a wholesome picture of his family (Mc included) holding hands around the bottom of the mug. The final product ends up insulting his brothers and giving them nightmares for days  _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

♡ Fully aware of his terrible (but better than Beel’s) drawing skills, Belphegor comes up with the idea for him and Beelzebub to use solid colors. He paints his mug a muted dark blue to resemble the night sky, with white dots for his favorite stars and constellations from the human world!! Their mugs match, too  =w=

♡ After chatting with you and Beel, he decides to make a simple addition to his mug!! A green mountain with a little pink puffball on top. The cloud-like shape has a yellow circle for a face and little horns--is that sheep Mc?? Looking up at Beel and Belphie’s twin stars?? How adorable!! “It’s you, me, and Beel. Let’s look at the stars again later.”

♡ Diavolo is like a child exploring the limitless world of creativity. He molds a mug which is decidedly…….unique. Asymmetrical. More fit to be a museum art piece than a piece of everyday drinkware. He also has fun during the painting process--his design could either be a colorful abstract work or a collage of his favorite Devildom landscapes and places!!  o(^▽^)o

♡ For the latter design, he will happily recount his memories from those special places as he paints. “Lucifer, here is the private beach we rented out 6000 years ago!! Barbatos, do you remember the Snapdragon Skull meadow where we hosted my childhood tea parties?? Mc, if you don’t mind, I would like to revisit these places with you next time.”

♡ Barbatos decides to mold a cup meant for tea. His set of teacups--plus an expertly molded teapot--are painted with sophisticated designs impressive enough to star in Diavolo’s next royal tea party!! From Japanese cups to European china with matching saucers, he is very interested in the different types of teaware!!

♡ He watches Diavolo’s mug creation and protects their cups from the demon brothers’ shenanigans. If you need help with your mug, he will politely smile and guide you through the process. Barbatos will stand over you, his hands lightly holding your wrists as you shape clay and paint designs. “Diavolo-bocchama, such childlike creativity ( ◠‿◠ ) Moving on, Mc, this is how you paint a traditional teacup.”

♡ Simeon’s mug gives off a homey, sophisticated vibe. He helps Luke during the clay-shaping process and comes up with a mug which feels comforting to hold. He paints a dazzling image of the Celestial Realm on the surface along with some original quotes in pretty, cursive lettering. At one point, Mammon almost tries to sell it on Akuzon as a personal item created by Christopher Peugeot.....

♡ His mug is always filled with coffee for recipe experiments or writer’s fuel. Oftentimes, you will visit Purgatory Hall to find Simeon expertly pouring steamed milk into his mug to finish off the newest menu item on The Angel’s Halo. “Mc, you came just in time. Would you like to try our Special Blend Coffee with Cloudy Sheep Latte Art?? Ꮚ • ⌄ •Ꮚ ”

♡ Luke is intent on making a perfect mug to pair with his sweets!! With Simeon’s encouragement, he happily sculpts a classic mug with everyone. Originally, he thought of painting assorted desserts on his mug…….then he considered the consequences of Beel’s reaction. To which he switched to a design of Celestial Realm imagery and the human world constellations he had learned from Michael!!

♡ At one point, someone *cough* Mammon *cough*  points out how cute and little Luke’s mug looks in comparison to everyone else’s creations. “Aww, isn’t this mug just like the Chihuahua??” “Ehh?? That wasn’t my intention!! It’s just that all of you consume bigger portions than me!! ໒  •̀ ﻌ •́ ७ ”

♡ Solomon’s mug looks exactly like what you’d expect from a sorcerer. Being familiar with various historical models of pottery and symbolic magical tools, it isn’t a surprise for him to come up with a special mug which may have mystical properties and functions. (It reheats his drinks.) Combining his skills in art and sorcery, Solomon effortlessly creates a vintage mug decorated with magical runes and embellishments  (∩^o^)⊃━☆゜.*  

♡ The finished mug is a gorgeous piece of pottery…...until Solomon uses it for his beverage concoctions. Suddenly, in everyone’s eyes, the work of art has become a sinisterly deceptive vessel for logic-defying poison. “Do you want a sip, Mc?? You won’t believe how good black coffee tastes with bloodberry sauce and devil’s chili peppers.”

♡

To my darling Belphewhore friend who proofread and contributed to this work:: No, you did not see me simping for S*lomon. Thank you very much for your assistance <3

Tagging:: @sunny-xty @panicattheattic @luminari-mc @kitsune-oji​ @souielle​ @moemoemammon​​ @dorkus-mcdingus​

[karihighman]

The way I desperately need their characters to be besties because they’re already supportive cast mates IRL 😊🫶 ps: a Lisseth & Melissa selfie would be epic just saying! So excited for what’s in store for Celina & crossing my fingers for a Lucy interaction or even a Chenford scene

[tophthedaydreamer]

the future! part 3

after being formally adopted by gyro (he still visits the drakes), boyd studies to become a scientist. he establishes a tech company that gets super successful! he becomes a billionaire genius a la tony stark, but remains his kind, down-to-earth self. still epic friends with huey and often provides him with tech that helps him gather artifacts and treasure.

violet becomes a scholar of all things magical and paranormal. a master at casting spells and solving magical puzzles, as well as identifying mystical beasts. has met mothman (they took a selfie together). i imagine she gets married to huey, and the two become a cool nerdy couple. 

gosalyn becomes the next guardian of st. canard, taking on the name quiverwing quack! super punk n cool, she’s got a sick hockey team on the side. she has uncle jesse vibes. 

[mugglenet]

The Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery is Now Open for "Cursed Child" Toronto

New Post has been published on https://bit.ly/3Nl1DVl

The Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery is Now Open for "Cursed Child" Toronto

The magic of the Wizarding World has arrived in Toronto, Canada! On May 31, the Canadian production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child at Toronto’s CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre opened its doors to its first audience. This long-awaited show was originally scheduled to open on October 23, 2020, but was postponed because of the COVID-19 pandemic. 

Fans who have not yet gotten their hands on tickets to the show now have another opportunity to do so. Cursed Child Toronto is operating its own version of the Friday Forty, called the Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery, which lets fans enter into a weekly draw for the chance to purchase tickets to a performance the following week for only $40.  Each week, entries will be accepted from Monday at 12:01 a.m. ET to Friday at 10:00 a.m. ET. Winners will be able to purchase a maximum of two tickets in random seating locations within the theater. To enter, sign up on the Ed Mirvish website for your chance to win.

  JUST ANNOUNCED: #CursedChildCAN’s Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery is NOW OPEN! Enter weekly for your chance to purchase $40 tickets for the following week’s performances. Sign up at https://t.co/k5E70ZeQqp pic.twitter.com/7aaeoNCKh5

— Harry Potter and the Cursed Child CAN (@cursedchildcan) May 31, 2022

  To celebrate the Canadian premiere, a special Cursed Child event was held at Yonge-Dundas Square on opening day. Attendees at this free event in the heart of downtown Toronto got the chance to meet the all-Canadian cast, take selfies in front of the Hogwarts House banners, and hop on the Cursed Child double-decker bus. Freebies were also handed out like House buttons and goodies from the Grand Order of Divine Sweets, which offers baked goods inspired by fandoms like Harry Potter. Fans who also posted photos of themselves at the event and tagged #CursedChildDayTO were entered to win two tickets to the official media performance on Sunday, June 19. David Mirvish from Mirvish Productions and Toronto City Councillor Gary Crawford officially declared it #CursedChildDayTO.  

  David Mirvish of @Mirvish and Toronto City Councillor Gary Crawford are declaring it #CursedChildDayTO with a WIZZO! pic.twitter.com/aBIVcSRGl5

— Harry Potter and the Cursed Child CAN (@cursedchildcan) May 31, 2022

  New dates have also been announced, with 100,000 more available tickets added for shows up until December 24, so hopefully, you can get your hands on tickets to this magical production.

Press Release

THE GOLDEN SNITCH TICKET LOTTERY IS NOW OPEN FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD TICKETS $40

The Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery is your weekly chance to purchase tickets to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child at the CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre for only $40. A limited number of Golden Snitch tickets are available for each performance.

HOW TO ENTER Sign up at https://lottery.mirvish.com/ 

Each week, beginning Monday at 12:01AM ET until Friday 10:00AM ET, theatregoers can enter the lottery for their chance to purchase $40 tickets to the following week’s performances. A maximum of two tickets per winning entry will apply and seating locations will vary. Golden Snitch Ticket Lottery Terms and Conditions.

The Canadian Premiere production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child begins performances May 31, 2022, at the newly remodeled CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre in Toronto. The official media performance will be held on Sunday, June 19, 2022.

ABOUT THE PRODUCTION

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child begins 19 years after Harry, Ron and Hermione saved the wizarding world. Now they’re back on a most extraordinary new adventure – this time, joined by a brave new generation that has only just arrived at the legendary Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Featuring spectacular spells, a mind-blowing race through time, and an epic battle to stop mysterious forces, all while the future hangs in the balance, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is the eighth story in J.K. Rowling’s epic saga and the first Harry Potter story to be presented on stage. It has been seen by over 4.5 million people worldwide and holds 60 major honours, with a record nine Laurence Olivier Awards including Best New Play and six Tony Awards including Best New Play.

“Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is one of the most defining pop culture events of the decade” (Forbes). This one-of-a-kind experience is packed with “thrilling theatricality and pulse-pounding storytelling” (The Hollywood Reporter). Audiences are “audibly wowed, cheering and gasping” (The Telegraph), as “visions of pure enchantment send shivers down your spine” (Rolling Stone). “You’ll be wondering ‘how’d they do that?’ for days to come” (People Magazine).

ABOUT THE CANADIAN CAST

Trevor White stars as Harry Potter, Trish Lindstrom as Ginny Potter and Luke Kimball as their son Albus Potter; Gregory Prest as Ron Weasley, Sarah Afful as Hermione Granger and Hailey Lewis as their daughter Rose Granger-Weasley; Brad Hodder as Draco Malfoy, Thomas Mitchell Barnet as his son Scorpius Malfoy, Sara Farb as Delphi Diggory, Fiona Reid as Professor McGonagall, and Steven Sutcliffe as Severus Snape.

Also starring are: Kaleb Alexander, Nick Boegel, Kevin Bundy, Michael Chiem, Mark Crawford, Raquel Duffy, Bryce Fletch, Simon Gagnon, Raylene Harewood, Wychita Henricks, Asha James, Mandy Keating, Lucas Meeuse, Miranda Meijer, Kyle Orzech, Andy Pogson, Katie Ryerson, Yemie Sonuga, Jennifer Thiessen, Brendan Wall, David D’Lancy Wilson, Kyle Wong, Shawn Wright and Synthia Yusuf.

PRODUCTION HISTORY & CREATIVE TEAM

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child had its world premiere on June 7, 2016 at London’s Palace Theatre, where it continues to play to capacity audiences. The New York production began on March 16, 2018 at the newly renovated Lyric Theatre, where it is now in its fourth year. The Melbourne, Australian production began January 18, 2019 at the Princess Theatre where it is now in its third year. The San Francisco production began on October 23, 2019 and continues to play at the Curran Theatre. The German production began February 7, 2020 and continues at Hamburg’s Mehr! The Toronto production beginning May 31, 2022 is the play’s sixth international production, with the Japanese production following on June 16, 2022 at Tokyo’s TBS Akasaka SCT Theatre.

Based on an original new story by J.K. Rowling, Jack Thorne and John Tiffany, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is a play by Jack Thorne, directed by John Tiffany.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child features movement by Steven Hoggett, set by Christine Jones, costumes by Katrina Lindsay, music & arrangements by Imogen Heap, lighting by Neil Austin, sound by Gareth Fry, illusions & magic by Jamie Harrison, music supervision & arrangements by Martin Lowe, casting by Dayton Walters Casting, CSA, CDC, with additional consultation by Jim Carnahan, CSA and Alexandre Bleau, CSA.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is produced in Toronto by originating producers Sonia Friedman Productions, Colin Callender and Harry Potter Theatrical Productions with Canadian producer David Mirvish.

Hold on to the edge of your seat, as this spellbinding spectacular will whisk you back to Hogwarts and beyond your imagination for a one-of-a-kind journey that is everything you hoped for and more.

***************

For current Health and safety protocols please go to: https://www.mirvish.com/visit/plan-your-visit/what-to-expect-during-your-visit-to-the-theatre We will be adjusting to all industry and government guidance to keep our audiences and company safe.

#  #  #

PERFORMANCE SCHEDULE Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Performances Begin May 31, 2022 CAA Ed Mirvish Theatre – 244 Victoria Street Evenings: Tuesday – Saturday at 7 PM Matinees: Wednesdays & Saturdays at 12:30 PM; Sundays at 1 PM

Tickets from $69 Online: www.mirvish.com Phone 1-800-461-3333.

Follow Mirvish Productions: https://www.facebook.com/mirvish https://twitter.com/mirvish https://www.instagram.com/mirvishproductions/

Follow Harry Potter and the Cursed Child in Toronto: Instagram: @CursedChildCAN Twitter: @CursedChildCAN Facebook: /CursedChildCAN TikTok: @CursedChildOfficial https://ca.harrypottertheplay.com/ Mirvish.com

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[itsclydebitches]

That post on the cast's lack of curiosity and imagination hit the nail on so many issues I've had with this show lately. If I had to guess why this is the case, it's either because so much stuff has been crammed into the show that they decided thinking things over can be cut or they learned the wrong lesson from V5 and think that they shouldn't have the cast slow down and discuss what they've learned or are unsure about.

Personally, I think it's both those things with a third issue of the show not knowing where it's going. Hence, why we get so many ideas that are shoddily executed, dropped completely, randomly return, seem to go in circles before disappearing, etc. There are a hundred ideas piled on top of one another, with no real focus on any of them, so yeah, no wonder we haven't seen space made for those questions. I know the more optimistic side of the fandom pushes this idea of the mater plan. Most of the writers worked with Monty, they have his notes, just look at all the comments about how they're writing two volumes at once. Personally, I'm of the opinion that if this story was truly well-plotted, we would be seeing more of that creative work in regards to the group's thinking. If the writer knows basic facts like how Salem will be defeated, how the heroes hit on that solution, and the like, then you're able to incorporate not only their journey towards that ending, but all the pitfalls that come along with it. Questions like whether Ironwood's downfall was truly planned from the beginning is a more subjective (a fairly emotionally driven) conversation, but scenes like Nora's comment on the way to the party, introducing the Staff's abilities a few minutes before they're used, accomplishing nothing with Penny before killing her off, diving into a random void that was never a part of the story's expected structure... none of this feels like the writers have a good handle on where they're doing. And if you don't know where you're going — at least a basic idea — it's a lot harder to let your characters discover how to solve their problems. The authors may not know how to solve those problems yet. RWBY's magic system has always had wishy-washy rules and Salem's own motivations were only announced this volume, eight years in. That's not good groundwork for creative thinking on the part of the characters.

Then yeah, we've got the added issue of how much thinking the cast can engage in. I absolutely understand the criticism leveled at Volume 5, especially given how lack-luster the action was once we got it. However, I don't think we can ignore the show RWBY has become. By introducing more cerebral themes — who's keeping what secrets? How much of this war is fought with information? How do we judge our enemies in this supposedly gray world? — RWBY has axed the simplistic, "Hehe bad guys get punched in the face!" focus we had at the start. It's no longer nameless White Fang goons who get blown up in an epic train tunnel battle, it's drawn out conversations over torture wherein a kid tries to turn one of the bad guys by... appealing to basic, "You don't want to die too" logic, I guess. The point is, when you change the show in that manner you also necessitate that the characters talk about things. Work through them. Tease out lies from the truth, allies from foes, the strategy that will ensure victory when epic punches are no longer enough. Fans aren't wrong to be frustrated at their action characters just sitting around, but there's also a reason why many of us are simultaneously frustrated by things like Emerald's forgiveness, Ozpin's apology, or Weiss' interactions with her family: all of them lack important conversations to prove that growth, resolution, or characterization to the audience. Frankly, as much as I do understand that, "I want to see them fighting, not talking all the time!" perspective, I think it's the least of RWBY's problems post-Volume 8. Simply because so many of our characters didn't fight and didn't talk about anything important. Fans bring up drinking tea in the mansion again and again because it is, thus far, the most extreme example of RWBY failing to have their characters forward the story. Fans are frustrated because half of our main team didn't do anything, and that includes undergoing no real emotional growth, discussing no strategies, coming to no decisions — anything that might come of a well-written conversation. Personally, I don't actually think most fans dislike conversation in the show as much as they might think. It's just that RWBY (as is so often the case) hasn't executed it well. But not only do these talks usually provide fan-favorite moments (how many Blake/Yang shippers focus on their selfies, or Yang's dance moves, the stuff that happens in their downtime?), but it can be downright exciting to see these characters hit on solutions that will then impact later fights. We want to see them succeed, both on and off the battlefield. Yet Volume 8 failed spectacularly in that regard, giving us a Ruby who did nothing, randomly realized she could use the Staff (no real catalyst there), and then basically implemented Ironwood's plan only worse. If RWBY can't even manage to keep its title character significant, I'm not at all surprised we don't have more nuance like, say, creatively testing Salem's immortality, or questioning the information they've been told, or even just having conversations during the midst of battle so you can take out two story birds with one stone. RWBY has too much going on, making it near impossible to discuss what's important, and even if we knew, yeah, there's this fear that it will be too boring... despite us getting stuff like the mansion scenes anyway.

[ellelans]

You made a tag comment about how Buddie wasn't planned from the beginning. And therefore what we got in Season 2 wasn't (at the time) the groundwork for a love story. I agree completely! Much of it I can see as either a bit of fun (the Christmas elf, the instagram girl) or that kind of hyper-masc heterosexuality that loops around itself and becomes gay (Buck's whole...thing with Eddie in the beginning, the focus on Eddie's body/hotness/physical appearance). But sometimes I step back and look at the whole and I'm all 🧐 🤔.

I don't even know what I'm asking lol. Would just love your thoughts/feelings on the confusing spectacle that are Buck and Eddie in season 2. And when/how/why did the show change their mind?

Thank you so much for the ask and you know what? Let’s talk about it.I recently had an in depth chat about this pretty unpopular opinion with a friend and I tried to explain to her why I don't see buddie as an actual pairing or having any canon potential until early s3 and why I don't believe they were planned from the beginning.This will be long and all over the place of course lol

The first and the most obvious reason is the way 911 deals with main characters and their romantic arcs.They don't actually drag it on for long because there is no need or time for that since every single main character has a strong storyline of their own and any romantic development between any pair as an additional combined storyline. Relationships happen fast on 911 because they are planned ahead and the only relationship that took longer than usual few episodes was Chim and Maddie and they were already kissing and planning a date in 2x11.

Also when shows enter their second season there is never a way to predict how long it will stay on the air and because of that it is impossible for me to believe that buddie was planned as some epic old school slowburn that is nowhere as close to be resolved after 3 seasons.When I say old school slowburn I mean shows that have this one heterosexual romance at the center of the universe that is usually stretched across seasons and builds up sexual tension between characters and it takes literally years for them to finally get together.We have these two characters that where made for each other and you KNOW that they will eventually get together because of some ridiculous pining that will eventually end in a kiss and everyone will scream and cry.And maybe that’s how buddie feels to me now after years of careful build up-but the way I see it they as a potential something didn't happen in s2.

We all joke about how character introduction of Eddie is the gayest we have ever seen and Buck's reaction to him as true bisexual and I do that myself too because I am a bisexual too and tbh its hard to unsee (also I don't want to) but lets remove our rainbow glasses for a second. What really did happened in that scene? Eddie's perfect abs on display,Chim and Hen fun comments on how beautiful he is,Bobby's praise and bragging about getting Eddie and his Silver Star on the team and Buck's insecurities flaring up as a reaction to all of this.Buck immediately feels threatened.At this point we of course have no idea how deeply his insecurities run or why,but as episode progresses we witness Eddie on his first call making a better decision to how to handle a medical situation and backed up by Bobby.It has sort of a devastating effect on Buck,who suddenly starts acting like we have never seen him before.Then there is a that scene at the gym where Buck tells Eddie how he is his problem. And later we of course have the scene in ambulance when Eddie asked what exactly they are measuring. Because that's what it looked like - a usual macho men measuring context. But the thing is 911 doesn’t toxic masculinity when it comes to main male characters and we saw many examples of that already by then,but the biggest one was supposed to be BuckandEddie. Equals,partners and best friends.

911 was already pushing boundaries with cast,characters and relationships diversity and I strongly believe that what they wanted to show us was a male equivalent of what we are used to see in female bffs -a different kind of a friendship between men. Men who care about each other,who talk about feelings,discuss sex,dating or why they don’t,who again openly acknowledge that they find each other attractive and giving advices on how to take a more flattering selfie,who are not afraid of crying, admit they are struggling or heartbroken or loving their kid.Honestly when was the last time any of us saw a male friendship like theirs?Men are not allowed to be like that on TV (I am still shocked that its a Fox show tbh) and especially with each other.We are not used to see such a development so no wonder people started paying attention-which was what writers wanted,of course.

But that also brings us to that important question about queer undertones,subtext and do what we actually see in s2. Are there queer undertones?Absolutely. Subtext?It’s right there but you will probably not get it unless you’re reading between the lines.Before we get to Christmas Elf,there was ‘’He is cute!/He gets that a lot,you should’ve seen his kid...’’ Maddie and Buck scene that is once again reinforces that Buck finds Eddie attractive and it shouldn’t be a surprise because we already know from 2x01 he has eyes - but they mention it AGAIN and that personally made me raise a brow or two.By the time we get to that Christmas episode,we already have Shannon back and Buck finally moved on from Abby with Taylor and then Ali and then we are given another queer coded scene-with Christmas elf.And its very cute and to an average heterosexual viewer its a nice little joke,but any queer watching that scene was probably taken aback a little.

So why imo did Tim&Co do it and when they realized they can actually see where they can take BuckandEddie and when they started becoming buddie?My answer is ship teasing.It’s what a lot of people actually mistake for queer baiting,but we are not talking about that rn.Ship teasing works like charm and if shows can get away with that-they will totally use it to their advantage.It’s usually not always malicious,but it IS always intentional because that brings in a category of people that were overlooked for a long time-online fandom.Now I have seen some opinions that fandom doesn’t really matter,it’s the ratings that count and that is NOT TRUE.You can have your ratings,but if there is no buzz online?Your show is going nowhere.For at least a decade now every self-respecting production has teams to monitor fandom activities because it gives them better ideas about how consumers(fans) are interacting with their product (show).Fandom is important because we generate the buzz.So I do believe that BuckandEddie and that sweet ship teasing were to get a certain part of the fandom pay attention.

I wasn’t here when S2 aired so I don’t know if that was the case,but it is obvious that these scenes I talked about above made fans pay a LOT of attention. And maybe that was the reaction writers needed to start changing course from ship teasing to start building up to something else.They maybe didn’t plan it at the very beginning and on paper,but lets also not forget the insane chemistry between Oilver and Ryan,which imo is another big reason-it's impossible to ignore.

Because S3?Is light years away from S2 in terms of BuckandEddie-they became buddie.In s3 Buck and Eddie become each other’s significant other,they are in a primary relationship. ’’Buck invites Eddie...’’?!!!!! It is not yet romantic and probably won’t be until ending of s5 if we are lucky-but it is in your face,they are not subtle anymore.I personally saw buddie only at the end of 3x03 when Eddie came over and said that there is noone in the world he trusts with his son more than Buck, looking like he did into Buck’s eyes,while ‘Photograph’ played in the background right before Buck’s overvoice about being seen and found and a raft to bring one home. After S4 ending tho...we all know that something is about to happen and its like there is electricity in the air as we are waiting for s5!

Probably a lot more thoughts than you expected,but I have many feelings about these two and when buddie goes canon this post will become completely irrelevant lol 💖