#High Octane Pictures

[lurking-latinist]

⛵

[laracrofted]

writing motivation and adhd medication still evade me, but i made a nora collage and i love it 🩵

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (12)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 8.4k+

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: protected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, so many emotions and feelings, jungkook is a SIMP

A/N: sorry for the late update. this is a longer chapter compared to the others to make up for it. hope you guys enjoy this part !! lmk your thoughts and stay tunedddd <3

part 12: high octane roses

Jungkook’s apartment feels warm and inviting, a reflection of him in every way. The dim lighting casts a golden glow across the room, highlighting the cozy furniture arranged in a way that makes the space feel so intimate.

You notice little details… a soft crocheted blanket draped over the couch, a small bookshelf lined with novels and motorcycle magazines, and a shelf filled with framed photographs.

You wander closer to the shelf, your curiosity piqued. The photos tell stories of a life filled with people he cares about. One picture shows him with his friends, all grinning wide, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

Another captures a younger Jungkook with his family, his bunny-toothed smile as bright as ever. Then, there’s one of him as a child, maybe four or five, holding a tiny toy bike with a proud smile. You can’t help but smile as you take it all in… it’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it only makes you fall for him a little more.

As you linger by the photos, Jungkook’s voice pulls you back. “You’re shivering.” he observes, his tone laced with concern. You hadn’t even realized how cold you were, the damp clothes sticking to your skin, amplifying the chill.

“Come on.” he says, taking you to his room as he opens his closet. “You can take a shower and warm up. I’ll grab you something to wear.” He pulls out a soft brown hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts, handing them to you with an easy smile. “You can use the bathroom here. I’ll shower in the other bathroom and throw your clothes in the dryer.”

You nod, clutching the clothes to your chest and watch him leave. As you’re left alone in his bedroom, you’re immediately struck by how personal and cozy the space feels. The room is modest, yet it exudes Jungkook’s personality.

A row of miniature bike models lines the nightstand, and a few posters of sleek motorcycles decorate the walls. There’s even a helmet perched on a shelf, along with some trinkets and scattered books. It feels like a sanctuary… simple, warm, and utterly him.

You take a moment to run your fingers over the nightstand, marveling at the intricate details of the bike models. But the cold clinging to you is insistent, so you quickly head to the adjoining bathroom to shower.

The warm water is a blessing, washing away the chill and the remnants of the rain. After drying off, you slip into Jungkook’s hoodie. It’s oversized, the soft fabric reaching down to the middle of your thighs. You glance at the shorts but decide against them thinking the hoodie covers enough, and the thought of wearing something that smells so much like him is oddly comforting.

Once dressed, you return to his room, taking another look around. You find yourself drawn to the small details… another shelf with neatly arranged books, a picture of him at some biking event, and a pair of worn boots tucked in the corner. Eventually, you settle on the edge of his bed, fingers absentmindedly tracing the soft fabric of his comforter as you wait for him.

The sound of a door opening down the hall alerts you, and moments later, the door to his room swings open.

Jungkook steps in, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, clearly not expecting you to be there already. Your eyes widen as you take him in... he’s shirtless, his toned abs, chest and tattooed arms on full display, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His joggers sit low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers teasingly peaking around his tiny waist.

“Oh.” he says, freezing mid-step when he notices you sitting on the bed. His wide eyes meet yours, and for a second, neither of you say anything. Then his gaze flicks down, taking in the sight of you in his oversized hoodie, your bare legs hanging by the frame of the bed, almost touching the floor.

He swallows hard, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Uh… I thought you were still in the shower.” he stammers, quickly running the towel over his hair again to mask his embarrassment.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile as your heart hammers in your chest. “I finished just a while ago.” you say softly.

For a moment, the room feels hot, the air thick with something unspoken as Jungkook stands there, towel in hand, while you sit on his bed, looking up at him. His gaze lingers on you, soft yet intense, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts.

The sight of you sitting on his bed right out of the shower, wearing his hoodie, your exposed legs, your damp hair… stirs something inside him. There’s a quiet allure in the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and curious, a mix of shyness and comfort in your expression. It’s as if everything around him vanishes, leaving only you.

Before he can stop himself, the towel slips from his fingers, landing softly on the floor by the door. His feet move on their own as he crosses the room, his chest rising and falling with quiet breaths. He stops just in front of you, and without a word, he bends forward, his hands cupping your face as he leans in, placing his lips on yours.

The kiss is sudden but it's deep and consuming, a silent confession of everything he’s been holding back. His touch is firm but tender, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he angles your face closer to his.

Your fingers instinctively reach out, finding one of his wrists for support as you let yourself melt into him. The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, it feels as though time has stopped.

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the way he tastes, the way he holds you as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. It’s slow and passionate, carrying the weight of many emotions, and you can feel his heart in every movement.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Jungkook gently pushes you back, guiding you until your head meets the soft comfort of the mattress beneath you.

His movements are firm, yet careful, as though he’s making sure you’re comfortable with every step. You feel the warmth of his body as he leans over you, and instinctively, your legs part to make room for him. He fits perfectly, settling between your thighs with an ease that feels natural, like he’s meant to be there.

The weight of him presses you deeper into the mattress, grounding you in the moment as his hips shift against yours, sending a shiver through your entire body. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, as though the world outside his bedroom no longer exists.

His hands, once cradling your face so tenderly, slide down to your waist, gripping you firmly. His fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie draped over you, the slight pressure sending sparks along your skin. You can feel the unspoken desire in his touch, the way his hands hold you with a mix of reverence and longing, as though you’re something he never wants to let go of.

The intensity between you grows as his body presses closer, the heat radiating off him sinking into your skin. When his erection grazes against your core, a soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, swallowed by the searing kiss. It only spurs him on, his fingers starting a slow, teasing journey along the curve of your thighs.

His touch is light at first, fingertips brushing the outside of your legs, igniting a trail of fire as they glide upward. When his hands slip beneath the hem of the oversized hoodie, the warmth of his palms against your bare skin makes your breath hitch. The delicate, tantalizing movements send a rush of electricity coursing through your body.

You arch into his touch, seeking more of him as his fingers ghost over the waistband of your underwear. Every motion is gentle, slow enough to drive you mad, yet filled with an aching desire. His hands finally settle on your hips, gripping them firmly, grounding you as the tension between you builds.

Jungkook lifts your hips slightly, a subtle yet intoxicating motion that aligns your bodies perfectly. His hardness presses against your core, and the friction sends a wave of pleasure rolling through you.

The motion is slow, his hips moving against yours, each shift of his body drawing a needy sound from your lips. The delicious pressure leaves you breathless, completely lost in the moment and the way he moves with you, as if nothing else in the world matters.

His lips pause against yours for just a moment, and when he pulls away, you’re met with the sight of his flushed face and eyes glazed with longing and desire.

But the moment is fleeting because he dives back in, his mouth capturing yours with renewed fervor. Each kiss is more urgent, each touch more electric, sending another wave of desire coursing through your veins.

It feels almost unreal, having him this close, feeling the intensity of his movements as if the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. His hips grind against yours with a growing urgency, the pressure making your toes curl.

You can feel his need, the way he wants you… heavy, consuming and undeniable. It fills the space between you, and you’re relieved, almost euphoric, to know you’re not the only one drowning in this feeling.

Your heartbeat thunders in your chest, matching the rhythm of his movements. Everything else fades away as he kisses you with a hunger that leaves you breathless, your body aching and trembling beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his lips red and swollen from the intensity. His fingers trail over your hips, before coming to rest on the hem of the hoodie you’re wearing. His eyes meet yours, dark and searching, silently asking for permission. When you nod, he pulls the hoodie over your head in one fluid motion.

The cool air kisses your bare skin, and you become acutely aware that you’re not wearing a bra. You’d left it in the bathroom, soaked from the rain, and now the vulnerability of the moment makes your cheeks flush. But any self-consciousness melts away when you see the way he looks at you.

Jungkook’s gaze roams over your body, his eyes taking in every curve and dip, lingering on your neck, collarbones, and chest. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, and he seems almost in awe, as if he can’t believe you’re real. His hands tremble slightly as they move to cup your face, and when he leans in to kiss you again, the tenderness in his touch contrasts beautifully with the raw desire in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful...” he whispers against your lips, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your heart swell at the sincerity in his tone. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression a mixture of reverence and need. “You have no idea…” he murmurs, his voice trailing off as his breathing grows heavier. “You have no idea how bad I need you right now.”

His confession hangs in the air, charged and intimate, as you feel the heat radiating between you. When his length twitches against your core, your breath hitches.

His hands move with care, cupping your breasts as his thumbs gently graze over your hardened nipples. The sensation is electric, a bolt of pleasure that draws a soft gasp from your lips. His touch is tender but stimulating, so new and intoxicating that it leaves you panting, your body alight with sensations that are almost overwhelming.

When his mouth replaces his hand, the warmth of his tongue swirling around one of your nipples, you can’t hold back the desperate moan that escapes you. His lips latch onto you, suckling gently but with enough fervor to send waves of heat through your body. Your back arches instinctively, pressing closer to him as your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you.

One of his hands moves to knead your other breast, his fingers working in perfect sync with the ministrations of his mouth. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your brows furrowing as you struggle to process the sheer intensity of it all.

His lips leave a trail of fire as they travel across your chest, ghosting over your sensitive skin and leaving you shivering in their wake. Slowly, he works his way up to the delicate curve of your neck, his movements unhurried, savoring every second as if he’s committing this moment to memory.

He nuzzles into the space just behind your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin. When his lips press down, marking you with a burning gentleness, it feels both possessive and tender. The sensation sends a new wave of shivers down your spine, your body instinctively reacting to the intimacy of his touch.

Your chest rises and falls in sync with your labored breathing, the air thick with the tension between you. Every movement, every kiss, every graze of his fingers feels purposeful, like he’s pouring his soul into the way he touches you. His hands roam across your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of skin.

You’ve never felt anything like this before... the slow, deliberate buildup of desire, the way his lips and hands ignite every nerve ending. It’s intoxicating, consuming, and all encompassing. The press of his body against yours, the wet heat of his kisses, the weight of his presence... all of it has you teetering on the edge of control.

When his lips finally find yours again, the kiss is deep, languid, and brimming with desperation. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as if grounding yourself to him is the only way to stay tethered. His hips roll against yours again, and the pressure is so perfectly maddening that it pulls another moan from deep within you.

“Jungkook…” you breathe against his lips, the word coming out as a plea. Your voice trembles, heavy with longing. “Jungkook… touch me… please.”

Your whispered words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable, and when you repeat yourself, your voice cracks ever so slightly. “Please.” you beg.

Jungkook's lips continue their descent, leaving a trail of warmth along your torso. His kisses are slow and unhurried, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each touch of his lips ignites sparks that travel through your entire body, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he moves lower. His lips brush against the curve of your stomach, lingering there for a moment as though memorizing the way you feel beneath him.

When he finally reaches the waistband of your underwear, his movements pause, his mouth hovering just above the delicate fabric. Your hips instinctively lift towards him, a soft, breathless moan slipping past your lips... a plea without words.

He notices, his gaze flicking up to meet yours in the dim, intimate glow of the room. His eyes are dark, heavy with desire, yet there’s an undeniable tenderness in them. “Tell me...” he whispers, his voice rough with restraint but filled with an almost reverent care. “Tell me what you want.”

Your throat tightens at his words as you try to wrap your head around this intense moment. “You.” you breathe out, your voice shuddering. The sound is fragile yet unwavering. “I want you.” you repeat, your tone firmer this time, the sincerity in your words undeniable.

A flicker of softness crosses his features, and his lips curve into a small, almost bashful smile. The weight of his gaze makes your heart race as you feel the connection between you deepen in that moment.

And then, without warning, his head dips, and his lips press firmly against your core through the thin fabric of your underwear. The sensation is electrifying, a surge of heat coursing through you that leaves you gasping. Your body arches towards him involuntarily, seeking more of his touch as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

“Jungkook…” you moan, your voice quivering with a mix of surprise and desire. The sound barely escapes your lips before he tightens his grip on your hips, steadying you. His lips remain close, teasingly hovering over your sensitive spot, igniting a fire that seems to consume every inch of you.

Without breaking eye contact, his fingers hook around the waistband. The motion is slow as though he’s savoring every second of the moment. His gaze never wavers, locking onto yours as he smoothly slides the fabric down your legs, the intimacy of his actions leaving you dizzy.

The cool air grazes your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat pooling between you. His gaze drops, and when his eyes meet your glistening core, he pauses, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

“God... you’re so fucking perfect.” he murmurs, the words tumbling out like a confession, low and husky. His voice sends a shiver through you, the intensity of his stare leaving you bare in more ways than one.

His touch is steady, as his fingers trail gently along your folds, exploring with an intimacy that makes your head spin. The warmth of his skin against yours feels electric, igniting every nerve as his movements remain patient, savoring every second of the moment.

"So wet for me." he coos as he carefully dips his finger into you. The action sends a jolt of insane pleasure through your veins and you cry out a loud moan. You feel him sink his fingers deep inside you, pumping them as he gradually increases his pace, eventually adding in another digit.

You're overwhelmed by a cascade of sensations once he adds a third finger, as if stars themselves are scattered before your eyes, their brilliance merging with the overwhelming pleasure that surges through you. It's a feeling that defies explanation, a delicate, almost indescribable wave of euphoria that leaves your legs trembling uncontrollably.

Your moans are relentless, and Jungkook breathes heavily, guiding you towards your peak. He is so captivated by the sight before him... your body glistening with sweat, your chest rising and falling with each breath, your legs trembling with the intensity. It’s utterly mesmerizing.

“Jungkook…” you moan, and his gaze shifts to your face as he leans in, pressing a soft, featherlight kiss against your jaw. "Jungkook...I'm close... so close." you breathe out. "Cum for me." he whispers lowly. "Cum for me, baby." he says again and suddenly you break.

A loud mewl erupts from the bottom of your lungs as you orgasm in his hold. Your body writhing and shaking, unable to recover from the intensity of the high you just came down from. "Fuck... look at you." he sighs, drinking in the sight of you.

You feel his fingers delicately massage your core, the sensation making you flinch momentarily, yet somehow, you find yourself yearning for more. "Jungkook..." you start, your voice soft. "I need you..." you beg again. "I need you inside me....please."

As soon as Jungkook hears you say those words, he moves his hands away from you, now standing up straight as he watches you tremble on his bed. You suddenly feel empty, the warmth of his body no longer enveloping you.

But just when you're starting to miss it, you watch him bend down towards you, his face inching closer towards your already sensitive pussy and you feel his lips against your clit.

You gasp loudly, your back arching up slightly at the feeling. His hands curl from under your thighs as he holds them apart, as he continues to lick and suckle on your most sensitive area. He continues like this for minutes, not once stopping, lapping up the wetness that drips out of you with every flick of his tongue.

Finally, Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a few steps away from you. You watch as he pulls down his sweatpants, revealing the bulge in his boxer briefs and you can't help but feel a twinge of anticipation at the thought of having him inside you.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook smirks at you, pushing down his boxers to reveal his already hard dick. It stands proud, and you watch in awe as he strokes it gently with one hand while the other one reaches down to rub against your clit, making you bite onto the skin of your lower lip.

He slowly moves towards his nightstand and pulls opens the third drawer, retrieving a condom as he tears it open with his teeth. He slides the latex onto his dick, his hand stroking it up and down to ensure it's fully covered.

As soon as the end of the condom touches his skin, he wastes no time and hovers over you, positioning himself at your entrance. Before doing anything, he finds your gaze, his eyes locking with yours. So many emotions swirl within him, but in this moment, he knows you understand him. The way you're looking back at him speaks volumes, and it all falls into place.

Closing his eyes, he takes a slow breath, feeling the warmth between you both intensify. His lips, still glistening with the remnants of your essence, gently engulf yours in a languid kiss. The kiss deepens with a quiet, unspoken yearning, as time seems to stretch and you finally feel him entering you.

You moan out at the feeling, your eyes widening in shock at how he stretches your walls out. You feel every inch of him as he slides in, your body taking a moment to adjust to the new feeling. But as soon as he stills completely, you feel yourself wrap around his dick, pulling him deeper within you.

His arms find their way around your head, his forearms caging you as he leans in, his nose skimming yours. You watch the way his eyes darken as he begins thrusting, the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing within the room.

"Fuck..." he mutters, his hips rolling against your pelvis. "Fuck, baby.... you feel... you feel so good." he praises, closing his eyes to truly enjoy the blissful sensation. It's like he never wants this to end.

You moan in response, your nails digging into the skin of his back. As if urging him on, he moves faster, his thrusts becoming more insistent, more desperate. His kisses grow deeper and deeper, his lips trailing along your jawline.

When Jungkook feels himself hitting that familiar tight bundle of nerves every time he thrusts into you, you both begin to groan louder, the sensations becoming too much to bear.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you feeling empty for a quick second but you watch him quickly flip you over, pushing your upper body down towards the mattress as he positions himself behind you. You feel him slide back into you, and a loud gasp leaves your lips as a rush of pleasure surges through your body.

"Oh god…" you mewl, the feeling becoming too intense to ignore in this new position. Jungkook's thrusts become more forceful, his body crashing against yours with every slap. His hands hold you by the hips as he fucks you into the mattress.

His breathing becomes more ragged, his groans sounding more animalistic as he starts to reach his climax. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as he pounds into you, his cock sliding in and out of you over and over again. You can't help but let your eyes flutter shut as you let the feeling take over.

"Fuckkk..." he growls, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "I'm... so... fucking close." he says, his thrusts becoming uneven as he slams into you. "You're gonna make me cum so hard... fuck." he moans, his head falling forward.

It's when Jungkook flips you over onto your back again, and this time, looks straight into your eyes that he finally reaches his high along with you. He cums into the condom, while your walls pulsate around his length as you too reach your second orgasm with his body falling over you as both of you pant, trying to catch your breaths.

It’s a long moment before either of you moves, a long moment of heavy breaths and soft kisses. You’re sated, completely and utterly sated, but you don’t want it to end. You want to feel Jungkook against you forever, his skin against yours, his heart beating in time with yours.

He rolls off you slowly, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you into his embrace, holding you as if to shield you from the world. His lips find your temple, pressing soft, lingering kisses that seem to whisper unspoken promises, while his fingers trail soothingly over your chest as he fondles your breast, grounding you with his touch.

After a moment, he shifts, propping himself up with a quiet sigh. "I’ll be right back." he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring, his hand tenderly brushing through your hair before he rises and disappears into the bathroom.

When he returns, a warm, damp cloth in hand, his movements are patient, almost reverent. Kneeling beside you, he carefully tends to you, his touch gentle as he wipes you clean.

His eyes remain on you, soft and filled with something indescribable, his silence speaking louder than words as he ensures you feel cared for, down to the smallest detail.

Once he’s done, you offer him a soft, sleepy smile as he climbs back into bed. He takes his time, gently draping the warm blanket over your figure before settling beside you, pulling you into the circle of his arms. Your skin brushes against his, the heat of your bodies blending, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy that feels like a world of its own.

“That was amazing.” you whisper, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the room as you turn to face him. His lips curve into a gentle smile, and without hesitation, he leans in to place a tender kiss on your cheek.

“It was.” he agrees, his voice low and soothing, before adding with an earnestness that sends a shiver through you. “It’s like you were made for me.”

Your heart flips at his words, a wave of emotion washing over you. Unable to hold back, you burrow closer to him, resting your head against his chest as his arms instinctively tighten around you. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear lulls you into a serene calm, his presence enveloping you entirely.

Jungkook lies there, cradling you against him, his hands resting lightly on your back. He feels the subtle changes in your breathing as sleep begins to claim you, the rise and fall of your chest syncing with his own. As he holds you, his mind drifts, consumed by the depth of his feelings.

The emotions coursing through him are almost overwhelming, far beyond anything he’s ever known. It’s not just fondness or desire... it’s something infinitely more profound. In this quiet moment, with you nestled in his arms, he realizes it’s a much deeper feeling in its truest, purest form.

It’s the kind of feeling that roots itself deep, that alters the very fabric of his being. He doesn’t need to word it yet, the feeling is enough, filling the silence as he watches over you, his heart completely and irrevocably yours.

//

Your brows furrow as a ray of sunlight pierces through your eyelids, warming your skin but pulling you from the depths of sleep. With a quiet groan, you roll over on the mattress, seeking refuge away from the insistent light.

A soft hum escapes your lips as your eyes flutter open, lazily adjusting to the familiar surroundings and a sleepy smile tugs at your lips. The memories of last night suddenly flood your mind, each one vivid and warm, filling you with a sense of calm.

You remain still, your eyes slipping shut once more as your arm instinctively stretches across the mattress in search of him. But instead of the comforting warmth of his presence, your hand meets only the cold, empty sheets.

The realization stirs you, and your eyes snap open, a small pang of disappointment flickering through your chest. Slowly, you prop yourself up, glancing around the room, your thoughts clouded with curiosity. Where could he be? you wonder and just then, you hear random sounds reaching your ears from beyond the door.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if he’s occupied with something outside, before reluctantly sliding out of bed. Your eyes land on his hoodie, neatly folded on the edge of the nightstand, a detail that makes you smile with quiet affection. Pulling it over yourself, the fabric still carrying his scent, you feel an odd sense of comfort as it envelops you.

With slow steps, you make your way to the closed door, your fingers hesitating on the handle for just a second. Taking a steadying breath, you turn the knob and pull it open, curiosity and anticipation guiding you forward.

As you walk down the hallway, the soft padding of your feet barely makes a sound against the cool floor. You peer around the corner, curiosity tugging at you, and your gaze lands on Jungkook. He’s in the kitchen, his broad back turned towards you, the lean muscles beneath his shirt flexing ever so slightly as he moves.

He’s focused, completely absorbed in whatever he’s working on near the stove, and the sight of him like this... calm and domestic, makes your heart flutter in ways you can’t quite describe.

A tender smile graces your lips as you watch him. There’s something serene about the moment, the way the sunlight streams through the kitchen window, highlighting his features in a golden glow.

You carefully tiptoe closer, your excitement bubbling beneath the surface. When you’re finally close enough, it feels natural to slide your arms around his torso, pulling him into a gentle hug from behind. The moment your cheek presses against his back, a sense of calm washes over you. His warmth radiates through the fabric of his soft t-shirt, and you close your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breath calm you.

For a second, you feel him stiffen, surprised by the sudden touch, but he quickly relaxes, his body leaning ever so slightly into yours. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” he says, his voice low and affectionate, carrying a smile you don’t even need to see to feel.

The remnants of sleep still cling to you, and you hum softly, nuzzling closer against him. The scent of him mingles with the savory aroma of whatever he’s cooking, filling your senses in the most comforting way. His hands find yours, resting gently atop them as if to hold you in place.

“You should’ve stayed in bed.” you hear him say, his teasing tone making you smile. “I was trying to be a gentleman and bring you breakfast in bed.” he adds. A soft giggle escapes your lips. “I missed you.” you say. Your words are quiet, almost muffled against his back, but you know he hears them.

Jungkook lets out a warm chuckle, the sound reverberating through you. Carefully, he loosens your arms, turning to face you with a softness that makes your heart skip a beat. His dark eyes, full of affection, sweep over you as he wraps his arms securely around your shoulders.

Leaning down, he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and gentle against your skin. His thumb grazes the side of your arm in soothing strokes, as if to silently reassure you of his presence.

“I’m right here, baby.” he whispers, his voice tender yet steady, each word laced with quiet devotion. His gaze holds yours for a beat longer, and in that moment, everything feels perfect, like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

You lean closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he instinctively tightens his hold around you. The two of you stay there, cocooned in each other's embrace, the warmth of his body engulfing you in a way nothing else can.

“Are you always this clingy?” he teases, the light humor in his voice causing your cheeks to warm. A soft whine escapes your lips as you hug him even tighter, burying your face into his shirt as if to hide from his playful jab.

Despite your wordless protest, your actions seem to betray you, holding onto him like you never want to let go. Jungkook’s chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, and his fingers trace slow, soothing circles on your back.

In this quiet moment, Jungkook’s mind is a swirl of emotions. Somehow, this is everything he's ever wanted. He glances down at you, nestled securely in his arms, and his heart swells. It feels perfect. It feels like home.

After what feels like an eternity but isn’t long enough, he gently pulls away, his arms still lingering around your shoulders as he looks down at you. A soft smile plays on his lips, full of fondness and warmth. “Why don’t you take a seat here?” he suggests, guiding you towards the kitchen island with a tenderness that makes your heart swell with affection.

He helps you settle onto the chair, his touch light but reassuring. “I’ll get you breakfast.” he says, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before turning back to the stove.

You watch him move around the kitchen, the steady rhythm of his actions mesmerizing. There’s something so thoughtful about the way he works... grabbing ingredients, checking the stove, arranging things with care. You rest your elbows on the island, propping your chin on your hands as you observe him, a soft, content smile spreading across your lips.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder every now and then, catching your gaze with a subtle grin that makes your heart flutter. The way he pours his attention into even the smallest details of your breakfast leaves you feeling cherished.

After a few minutes, he walks back with a tray in his hands. Placing it gently on the counter, he takes his time arranging the cutlery, making sure everything is perfect before finally taking the seat across from you.

Your eyes immediately fall on the spread in front of you. A steaming bowl of kimchi stew, a small pot of perfectly cooked rice, and an array of vibrant side dishes neatly arranged. Your lips part in awe as you take it all in.

“Wow.” you breathe, your voice laced with genuine amazement. “This looks amazing.” Your gaze shifts from the food to Jungkook, and your heart beats a little faster when you see the way he’s looking at you... smiling softly, his eyes filled with quiet pride and affection. “Dig in cutie.” he says simply.

//

After finishing your hearty breakfast and an impromptu make out session on the cold kitchen counter, you and Jungkook finally realize it’s time to face the responsibilities of the day. It’s Monday morning, and both of you have packed schedules ahead.

Jungkook gets dressed first, effortlessly putting on his usual rugged yet polished attire. Once he’s ready, he insists on riding you back to your place so that you can get ready.

Almost 20 minutes later, Jungkook steps into your apartment, his boots making soft thuds against the wooden floor as he takes a moment to absorb the place you call home.

The space is small but cozy, filled with little touches of your personality that instantly make him smile. A faint floral scent lingers in the air, mixing with the remnants of a candle you must’ve burned earlier, the half-melted wax still sitting on the coffee table.

He walks further inside, his dark eyes wandering over everything... the stack of books neatly arranged on a shelf, the framed photos on the walls, and the tiny collection of soft toys resting on your couch.

His gaze lands on a small cluster of succulents sitting on the windowsill, their pots painted in bright colors and nice patterns. A faint smile tugs at his lips as he leans closer, his fingers lightly brushing the edge of one of the pots.

“You’ve got a nice place.” he calls out, his voice soft but carrying easily through the space. “Thanks !!” he hears you reply from the bedroom, where you’re still getting ready. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, his attention shifting to the bookshelf nearby. His fingers graze the spines of the books, pausing on one with a faded, pastel cover. He pulls it out and flips through it idly, his brows raising as he realizes it’s a romance novel. A knowing smirk crosses his face. “So this is what you're into.” he mutters.

“Don’t snoop!” you call out playfully. “I’m not snooping.” he lies, setting the book back in its place with an innocent expression, even though you can’t see him.

He turns and spots a small collection of polaroid pictures pinned to a corkboard by the door. There's some of you and your friends, you and your grandma, he assumes and various other people he can't quite recognize. His smile softens at the sight, his thumb brushing over the edge of the board. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until your voice snaps him out of it. “All done!”

Jungkook turns just in time to see you step out of your room, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. You’re not even dressed up fancy or out of the ordinary, it just like how he's always seen you in your shop but something about the way you carry yourself... the way you look at him with that easy smile, has him feeling like he’s just been hit by a freight train.

“You were snooping, weren’t you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Maybe a little.” he admits, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But can you blame me? There’s so much you here. It’s... nice.”

Your cheeks flush at his words, and you try to hide your embarrassment by grabbing your bag. “Well, I’m ready now. Let’s go before you start judging my book collection.”

Jungkook laughs, stepping forward to grab your coat from the rack. He holds it open for you, his hands brushing against your shoulders as he helps you slip it on. The small, domestic gesture feels oddly intimate, and for a second, neither of you say anything.

As you lock the door, both of you walk hand in hand as you go downstairs, heading towards his bike that's parked right outside your building.

The ride towards your shops, feels different today. Jungkook isn’t speeding like he usually does, nor does he seem in any particular rush. His movements are calm and steady and it dawns on you... this is his way of stretching the moment, of holding onto the little time he has with you before the day takes over.

When the bike finally comes to a smooth stop a few meters away from your shop, you carefully get off, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance as you remove the helmet. You hand it back to him with a soft, shy smile.

Jungkook watches you with an amused pout tugging at his lips. “Dropping my girlfriend off to work, and even though she’s going to be right next to my shop all day, I still can’t wait for the day to end so that I can see her again in peace.” he says, somewhat sulking.

You laugh, the sound light and infectious, as you arch your brows at him. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you ask. “Hello?? I thought we already established that… especially after last night.” he replies instantly, clearly offended.

You snort at his expression, which is a mix of indignation and vulnerability. “Well, you never asked.” you shrug, teasing him. His lips part slightly, as if your words had genuinely taken him aback. He lets out a dramatic sigh, his pout deepening. “Y/N… can I please… PLEASE… be your boyfriend?” he asks, his voice laced with endearing desperation.

You can’t help but grin at how utterly adorable he looks right now. Still, you can’t resist pulling his leg just a little longer. “Go ahead, biker boy. You’ve got a business to run.” you tease and before he can come up with a snarky retort, you lean in close and press a sweet, fleeting kiss to his lips.

“Bye!” you chirp, spinning on your heels and jogging towards your shop’s door before he can protest. Jungkook stays rooted to his spot on the bike, his lips curving into a soft grin. His dark eyes follow your every step as you unlock your shop’s door, his chest fluttering when you pause to glance back and wave at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes!!” he yells after you, his voice laced with boyish excitement. Hearing your laugh ring out in response makes him feel like he's actually floating.

As you disappear inside, his grin fades into a wistful smile. He already misses your scent, your warmth, the way your presence seems to light up his entire world. But then his gaze shifts to his shop, standing right next to yours.

With a reluctant sigh, he starts his bike again and parks it right outside his shop. He steps inside, and the familiar scent of oil, grease, and rubber greets him.

The moment he walks through the door, Jimin’s voice cuts through the air, his attention still fixed on the bike he’s repairing. “Someone’s late to work today.” he teases without even looking up.

“Of course he is. Lover boy here was on a date last night." Yoongi adds with his usual deadpan delivery, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips gives him away. At Yoongi’s words, both Hoseok and Jimin instantly stop whatever they're doing, their heads snapping towards Jungkook with exaggerated curiosity.

“A date?” they chorus in unison, their voices dripping with disbelief and amusement. Jungkook clicks his tongue, pouting as though Yoongi had just spilled a closely guarded secret. “Hyung...” he whines, dragging out the word as his cheeks flush faintly.

“What? You should be glad I never told them about what I walked into here last week.” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm yet dripping with mischief as he adjusts the wrench in his hand. Jungkook halts in his step, his brows furrowing in instant alarm. “Shut up, hyung.” he snaps, the tips of his ears reddening as he strides further into the shop.

But it’s too late. Hoseok and Jimin are already near the counter beside him. Hoseok raises both hands, gesturing for a pause, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Hold up, hold up...” he says, his tone somewhere between excitement and disbelief. “It feels like we’ve missed a couple of very important chapters here.” he says. Jimin leans closer, a grin spreading across his face as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, what’s going on???” he asks.

Yoongi, ever the instigator, doesn’t even look up as he continues working. “Not much to tell...” he says, his voice casual but smug. “Biker boy here is completely whipped for the girl next door, and judging by his face, I’m guessing they’ve finally made it official.”

The words hang in the air for just a moment before Jimin and Hoseok erupt into exaggerated cheers, their claps echoing in the garage. Hoseok even whistles, drawing out the moment as though Jungkook’s love life was the highlight of their day.

“Seriously?” Hoseok exclaims, clutching his chest as if he’s genuinely touched. “You and Y/n??? it was about time!!” he exclaims. Jimin nods, his laughter contagious. “And here we were thinking you’d end up married to your bike because of your constipated feelings.”

Jungkook, who had been doing a great job of pretending to check the tools on the workbench, feels the heat rising up his neck to his cheeks. He presses his lips together tightly, but the smile he’s trying so hard to suppress betrays him. It fights its way to the surface, his dimples deepening as he looks down to avoid his friends’ piercing gazes.

“Ah, look at him blushing!” Jimin teases, nudging Hoseok, who’s doubled over in laughter by now. Jungkook groans, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Can you guys not?” he mutters, but his voice lacks bite, the slight tremor of embarrassment giving him away.

Yoongi finally looks up, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t bother hiding it, Kook. It’s written all over your face. You’re down bad, and there’s no escaping it now.”

And as much as Jungkook wants to argue, he knows they’re right. Because even now, standing in the middle of his shop, surrounded by his teasing friends, his mind keeps wandering back to you... the date yesterday... followed by the beautiful night he had with you... the sound of your laughter... the way you kissed him before running off to your shop... it all just feels extremely surreal.

//

It’s around 7 PM, the fading light outside casting a warm golden glow into the shop through the slightly open shutters. Jungkook is crouched beside a bike, his hands deftly working on tightening the bolts of the rear wheel and adjusting the suspension.

The soft hum of tools fills the otherwise quiet space, the kind of silence that feels earned after a long day. Hoseok and Jimin had clocked out an hour ago, leaving only Jungkook and Yoongi to wrap things up.

Yoongi sits at the counter, his legs casually propped up on a stool as his fingers flip through a stack of receipts for spare parts he had ordered last week. The faint rustle of paper and the occasional clink of a tool are the only sounds in the shop.

As Yoongi glances up, his eyes fall on Jungkook, who is entirely absorbed in the task at hand. The younger man’s brows are furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed into a firm line as he works. For a moment, Yoongi simply observes him... there’s something different about Jungkook today, something lighter.

The thought prompts a question to surface in Yoongi’s mind, and without much preamble, he decides to speak. “So, you and Y/n? How’d that go yesterday?” he asks casually.

The sound of your name breaks through Jungkook’s focus, and he stops what he's doing. A smile spreads across his face, slow and unguarded, as though he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. His shoulders relax, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“It… was perfect, hyung.” he says, his voice carrying a warmth that matches the smile lighting up his face. Yoongi leans back slightly, his lips curving into a small smile. He doesn’t say anything immediately, just watches Jungkook, whose expression is a portrait of pure, unfiltered joy and something warm.

Before Yoongi can comment, Jungkook continues, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “She’s just… so great, hyung... like she was made for me. Everything about her... it just fits, you know?” He pauses, his eyes taking on a faraway look, his mind clearly drifting back to you. “It's like... she’s my person.” he murmurs, the words carrying the weight of certainty.

Yoongi notices the dreamy gleam in Jungkook’s eyes, the way his usually sharp features have softened. It’s like he’s utterly lost, drowning in thoughts of you, and yet he seems completely at peace.

Yoongi chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You’ve got it bad, kid.” he teases, though his tone is devoid of mockery. There’s only fondness in his voice as he takes in the rare sight of Jungkook so smitten.

"I'm afraid I have, hyung." Jungkook says almost instantly, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. Yoongi’s brows knit together, his curiosity piqued by the seriousness in the younger one's tone. "Really?" Yoongi asks, leaning forward slightly, his fingers still resting on the counter.

Jungkook hesitates, as his eyes lower, staring at the bike like it holds the answers to the storm brewing inside him. It’s clear he’s sifting through his emotions, trying to put into words about something that’s been weighing on him.

The air in the shop feels heavier, the comfortable silence replaced with an almost palpable tension. Jungkook exhales slowly, setting the wrench he's holding, carefully down as though the movement itself might help him untangle his thoughts.

Then, suddenly, he looks up, his eyes meeting Yoongi’s from across the room. The vulnerability in his gaze is startling, his usual confidence stripped away, leaving only raw honesty. "Hyung…" Jungkook starts, his voice quieter now, like he’s afraid the truth might be too loud. "I don’t like Y/n." he breathes out.

Yoongi blinks, his confusion immediate and evident. He tilts his head slightly, a frown creasing his features. "Kook, what?" he questions.

Jungkook shakes his head quickly, lifting a hand as if to wave off Yoongi’s misunderstanding. "No, no, that’s not what I mean." he says, his words coming faster now, almost stumbling over them. "What I’m saying is… I don’t think it’s just ‘like.’ This thing between us... it's... it’s not simple. It’s not... casual. It’s so much... more than that for me."

He pauses, his chest rising and falling as though the admission itself has stolen the air from his lungs. His voice grows softer, but the weight of his emotions makes every word hit harder. "It’s deep, hyung. So deep that I can’t even explain it. It’s like… she’s the only thing that makes everything else make sense."

Yoongi watches him closely, the younger man’s words sinking in, layer by layer. His own expression softens as realization dawns upon him. The way Jungkook speaks, the way his eyes seem to light up even as he struggles to explain himself... it’s unmistakable.

"Kook…" Yoongi starts, leaning back slightly, his voice tinged with both surprise and understanding. His eyes widen as the pieces fall into place. "No way..." he chuckles, his tone louder, tinged with disbelief.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he looks away for a moment. But then he meets Yoongi’s gaze again, and this time, there’s no hesitation.

"You love her, don’t you?"

<- part 11 // part 13 ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape @rpwprpwprpwprw @tokkiggukie @jaytheatiny

[comradeocean]

"I have found myself talking out loud to you, hoping you can hear me" is a bonkers way for a celebrity to begin a public memorial statement less than 24 hrs after the death happened by someone who has possibly not personally spoken to the dead person in question for almost ten years. I cannot stop thinking about it.

In 2013, Channel 4 did a documentary called Crazy About One Direction that featured a number of high octane waaaay out there fans. I think the band was asked about it during an interview; Louis and the others basically disavowed it, saying it was an unfair representation of girls who like One Direction and the fanbase in general. He wasn't being totally selfless in sticking up for the fans, because some of those girls were profoundly sad and lonely, maybe unwell. And if your mission is to be marketed as a fun-loving carefree boyband, the last thing you'd want to be associated with are young, maladjusted, friendless girls.

Anyway, at one point, one of the girls interviewed says:

Twitter is like a prayer place. When you go to a prayer place, you feel like you’re connected to God. So when you’re on twitter, you feel like you’re connected to 1D. You just have hope. [audio description alt-text: an image of Louis as Jesus Christ]

Zayn is also the only one of the boys to have crossposted his message to twitter.

The thing about One Direction being an accident, sure, a manufactured accident, but an accident nonetheless, is that they were guileless going in, and it showed. I've been mainlining old videos this week, trying to compare those early xfactor days with their contemporaries who were trying to break out around the same time. With everyone else, it was always a band full of Liams: intensely driven little freaks. Sorry, freak is maybe too mean a word to describe that particular mix of hunger and desperation to be accomplished, to be famous, and at the bottom of it all: to be liked. There's been a conscious shaping of the persona in service of those goals: they've learned to dance, to perform, to give pitches, soundbites, hit camera marks on cue. Most of them were also older, in their early to mid twenties. It's not inconceivable to imagine such a trajectory for the most diehard theatre kid you knew from school who decided after uni or whatever ~ to follow their dreams ~. That was the more typical boyband background. (not Liam though. lad was fourteen. he was closer to another subspecies of the genus: the child star)

And 1D in contrast were unpracticed, unstudied, as Zayn put it in that slightly off-kilter way of his (which I always imagine to be indicative of a disjunction between the vocabulary one encounters in school and what everyone around them is used to speaking), "novice children."

Like, truly, they did not give a fuck cos it hadn't yet occurred to them they were supposed to. Liam aside, industry norms were a complete mystery to them, and for many years, they managed to inhabit that sweet spot of flippancy without contempt, whether it was about the project, themselves, or their audience. Liam tells the story about being the go-between for xfactor stylists and the boys and getting into so much trouble on their behalf for wearing human-sized babygrows during a video diary. "Because Westlife would never wear those." [The punchline he then delivers is that Westlife members were pictured wearing onesies soon after. (quite possibly due to how viral anything 1D-related got)]

The boys were so immature. The whole boyband thing had fallen into their laps. They were just happy to be there! This thing that they didn't even know they wanted, they somehow got, and it took the shape of four other boys in exactly the same situation. It comes across very strongly how taken they were with themselves and each other. Find yourself a guy who looks at you the way blah Larry Stylinson blah blah Ziam blah blah blah. Never mind that cos they were all actually so hyped with each other. Any time any of them says anything remotely clever, or funny, or notable, the rest of them lose their shit like they're in on the same hilarious joke. Even if there was no actual joke. Their entire existence at that point was the joke bc how on earth had they landed from where they'd been — small deadend towns hollowing out from deindustrialization — to where they ended up — the xfactor house headed for the very top about to win it all, in the way they did — saved from bootcamp elimination at the last minute, with who they did — four other working class boys they would have never been friends with in another life. It must have been a high like a kind of limerence, like finding long lost family members on the exact same wavelength, like love.

And that was the other key thing about the stratospheric rise of One Direction. We didn't love One Direction only because we loved this or that member. We loved them because they loved each other, because they loved themselves, because they loved us. And they used the internet to show it.

In 2010, mass social media platforms were in their nascence, which is to say, the exploration of how to be a person, with other people, online, at a broad level not limited to specific subcultures, was in its nascence. For many years now, given the levels of extreme over-exposure, the dominant mood has become the mortifying ordeal of being perceived and so on. We've somehow all adopted mini-celebrity mindsets of our own, weary of being exposed to the maw of an unseen public. To be known is to be surveilled.

But the boys individually and at the collective level invited surveillance back then. Because the inverse — to be surveilled is to be known — seemed more relevant for that moment, at the beginning. They made a point of living their newfound lives at least partially online.

They were constantly on twitter, they livestreamed with a dedication that rivaled x-factor video producers, and none more so than Liam. It was already reality tv, this was just the next bleeding edge of "real": the unfiltered, unedited, direct sharing of yourself and what you loved in the last days of the old free-as-in-freedom internet.

When they said, over and over again, that it was all about the fans, it was meant in a very literal sense. Social media and the reality it created produced a feedback loop between the love they had for each other and the band, and the love we had for them, until it was inseparable: their relationships, our relationships, the process itself. Parasociality as it is currently manifested might have found its first mass expression through One Direction.

In separate interviews from This is Us (2013) deleted scenes, Liam and Louis say that Zayn wears his heart on his sleeve. Yet within the best-friends-slash-brothers-for-life schema cultivated as the One Direction vibe, he did not seem necessarily exceptional in his frequent declarations of love and fellow-feeling for various band mates. What he did ultimately end up doing was pulling the trigger on the contractual form their relationships were bound within, such that the I-love-you's inevitably passed from unpracticed to rote to a mandatory matter of their livelihoods. Someone had to be the first to explicitly and consciously decide that this "love" was no longer something they could continue participating in.

From the same set of deleted interview, in a somewhat fitting twist of symmetry, Louis and Zayn go on and on (much longer than Niall or Harry) about how Liam had been the serious and sensible one, but they've managed to corrupt him a little. It makes sense to assume that Zayn is referring to the band in general, but one can also read it to mean the two of them specifically, being the eldest, and their meta-cognition of the terms and conditions imposed by One Direction as a phenomenon.

The love the members of One Direction had for each other and the band and the fans was undeniably "real." The making of that "realness" was conditioned by the x factor throwing together four boys who had very little reference for what the fuck they had gotten themselves into, and Liam. Liam was the intermediary. He was already a creature twisted up and contorting, trying his level best to wedge himself into whatever spaces there could be found in the juggernaut of the entertainment industry. His neuroses and anxieties made the rest of One Direction possible, made One Direction "real" and "not like the other boybands" because that DNA, that what-not-to-do instruction manual could just be crammed into him, and the rest of them could be let loose into the world, unburdened by expectation, free to not give a fuck.

Louis and Zayn's raw, unpolished, typo-ridden letters were the most direct and irrefutable way they knew to swear fidelity to the boy they knew, the band they built, and the lives they lived together. The unfathomable ether of the internet, of the fans, of the massed publics seen and unseen made them, it destroyed their senses of self in ways they could weather until they couldn't, and it's into this ether they send their words, their grief, something real of themselves. Because in the universe of One Direction, this is the orthopraxis by which one proclaims one's faith and one's hopes. This is the prayer place that transcends distance, time, even death. This is how their brother could somehow, some way, still feel their love.

[sxcretricciardo]

Jealousy, jealousy…

you and Lando have been messing around for quite a while now when feelings start to rise in you. What happens when he brings a certain blonde along the paddock?

•

The hum of the engine filled your ears as you adjusted your gloves, the roar of the crowd faintly audible over the buzz of the paddock. Formula 1 had always been your dream, and being on the grid was nothing short of extraordinary. But amidst the high-octane rush of racing, something—or rather, someone—had taken up residence in your thoughts.

Lando Norris.

It started harmlessly enough: late-night texts about race strategies, a few too many drinks at celebratory dinners, playful banter that turned into lingering touches. What began as an unspoken friends-with-benefits arrangement had spiraled into something far more complicated for you.

You were falling for him.

But Lando? He seemed as carefree as ever, his cheeky grin never faltering. That was until Magui Corceiro entered the picture. She wasn’t just stunning—she was magnetic, the kind of woman who could walk into a room and have everyone’s attention without trying. And now, it seemed, she had Lando’s.

The tension between you and Lando simmered as the season progressed. He’d parade Magui around the paddock, her laughter echoing in your ears like a mocking melody. Every glance they exchanged felt like a stab to your chest. You hated how jealous it made you. You hated her.

Your frustration bubbled over one day during a team press conference. Magui had been lingering nearby, chatting animatedly with some reporters. You couldn’t help the sharpness in your tone when asked about your rivalry with Lando.

“Rivalry?” you scoffed. “It’s more like a game of who can distract themselves more outside the car.”

The room went silent. Lando shot you a sharp look, his jaw tightening. You regretted the words instantly, but the damage was done.

Race day came, and the air was electric with anticipation. The battle for first place had narrowed down to just two contenders: you and Lando. The grid was alive with tension, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air. You felt it in every fiber of your being—the need to prove yourself, to beat him, to show him what he was missing.

The race was a blur of high-speed turns and daring overtakes. It came down to the final lap, the roar of the crowd deafening as you pushed your car to its limits. You crossed the finish line mere milliseconds ahead of Lando, claiming victory. The elation was overwhelming, a rush unlike any other.

As you stood on the podium, champagne spraying into the air, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Lando. His expression was unreadable, a mix of pride and something else you couldn’t quite place. You brushed it off. Tonight, you were celebrating—and you didn’t need him to do it.

Hours later, the club was alive with music and laughter as you celebrated your victory. Your team had rented out a section, and you basked in the attention, dancing with abandon. The beat of the music and the rush of victory were enough to drown out any lingering bitterness.

Until he showed up.

Lando’s entrance was impossible to miss. His presence seemed to command the room, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. He didn’t hesitate, weaving his way through the throng of people until he was standing right in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“Celebrating your win,” he said, his voice calm but his eyes betraying a storm of emotions. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem?” you echoed, stepping closer. “You, Lando. You’re my problem.”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot up in mock disbelief. “What the hell did I do now?”

“Oh, don’t act clueless,” you snapped. “You’ve been parading Magui around the paddock like she’s your prize, and now you show up here like nothing’s wrong?”

His jaw tightened, his usual playful demeanor replaced with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You’re acting like a jealous child.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, you are,” he shot back, his voice rising. “Every snarky comment, every glare—it’s written all over you. Just admit it.”

“Why should I admit anything?” you countered, your voice trembling. “You made it clear I’m just some… convenient distraction to you.”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “Is that what you think? That you don’t mean anything to me?”

You faltered, your anger giving way to uncertainty. “What am I supposed to think, Lando? You’re with her.”

“I’m not with her,” he said firmly. “Magui and I… it’s not like that. It was never like that.”

“Then why—”

“Because I didn’t know how to deal with this!” he interrupted, his voice raw. “With us. With you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”

“I mean I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every time I see you, I want to be near you. And every time I’m not, it’s… unbearable.”

“Lando…”

He stepped even closer, his hand brushing against yours. “You’re more than just a distraction. You’re… everything. And I was too scared to admit it.”

The words hung in the air between you, the weight of them sinking in.

“Then why push me away?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “And because I knew that if I let myself feel this… there’d be no going back.”

You hesitated for only a moment before closing the distance between you, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was equal parts anger and desperation. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you as the world around you disappeared.

Back at your hotel room, the tension that had been building for months finally exploded. The door barely shut behind you before Lando pressed you against it, his hands framing your face as he kissed you deeply.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky.

“Then stop talking,” you replied, tugging at his shirt.

He chuckled, but there was no hesitation as he pulled it over his head, revealing the lean, toned body you’d tried not to notice during countless race weekends. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your back, slipping under your shirt to touch bare skin.

You fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, your fingers trembling with urgency. He groaned as you finally succeeded, his lips never leaving yours as he guided you toward the bed.

Clothes disappeared in a blur of movement, leaving nothing between you but the heat of your bodies. Lando’s touch was both gentle and possessive, his hands mapping every inch of your skin as if trying to memorize you.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he hovered over you.

“I want this,” you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair. “I want you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He moved against you with a rhythm that was both deliberate and intoxicating, his kisses trailing down your neck, your chest, every part of you he could reach.

You lost track of time, the night a haze of pleasure and whispered confessions. He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice trembling with need.

“I’m sorry,” he said at one point, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. “For everything. For not saying it sooner.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “You’re here now.”

“Always,” he promised, his lips brushing against yours.

The rest of the night was a symphony of desire and tenderness, every touch and kiss a silent declaration of the feelings you’d both been too afraid to voice. By the time the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, you lay tangled together, the weight of your confession lifting like the morning mist.

For the first time in months, everything felt right.

[son1c]

i've been thinking about the sonic movies a lot lately and honestly the more i think about them the more they kind of piss me off but that's not what this post is about because i was thinking about how i would've written them if i was in charge and i know i've spoken before about how i would've made tom a fire fighter or park ranger instead of a police officer but honestly? i don't think i would've had sonic end up with tom and maddie at all. the small town rural life really just doesn't fit sonic. he's high octane high energy and maximum cool and living in a sleepy town of like a thousand people doesn't pass the vibe check for me (as much as i cherish #nebraskan sonic)

like i just think it would've been more interesting if he'd wound up living in the city. you know? it's not like it would've been impossible for him to hide there. ofc there's the teenage mutant ninja turtles route where he hides in the sewer but honestly i don't think he would've needed to do that. there's plenty of empty/condemned buildings in cities. he could've camped out in one of those and set up his living space there, OR and this is very funny in the ironic sense, he could've lived in an empty, disused water tower. that's basically like a cave but it has a VIEW. since they're situated high up, i can just picture a shot where he's sitting on top of it looking out over the city wistfully...

anyways as for WHO he'd eventually end up connecting with i think the choice is obvious. rachel... she has so much more swag than tom and more importantly she's RIGHT about everything. plus her kid is the one who gave him his shoes canonically???????? i just think it'd be fun for sonic to have a human adopted sibling like if he's already getting adopted by a human why not go all the way and give him a whole human family yk.

i was imagining in my head some interactions like once rachel finds out he's been living alone for the better part of a decade she's like ah. I See (<- barely contained rage at The Owl for doing that to him). well, you're going to get chili dogs EVERY night. and sonic is like "i love chili dogs :)" and she's like "i know you do baby <3"

idk. basically rachel deserved better

[physalian]

On Writing a Compelling Fetch Quest, as told by TFP

Save for a single recap episode, season two of Transformers Prime is one long high-octane fetch quest, gunning for weapons and tools and eventually the keys to restoring Cybertron.

See this post where I’ve already gushed about this show but I just rewatched season 2 and it does absolutely everything right when so much of the tension could just come from the macguffin of the week.

Full Spoilers Ahead.

—

Season 2 begins with an amnesiac Optimus convinced he’s still best buds with “Megatronus” and that he’s still Orion Pax, factory reset to before he became a Prime with no knowledge of the war or Autobots or Decepticons. In this version of the lore, he was an archivist, the skills of which come into great use as he can decode ancient encryptions that Megatron’s had sitting locked in a vault and unable to crack for, seemingly, eons—unknowingly helping the enemy murder all his friends.

The information contained in this “Iacon Database” prompts the fetch quest that takes up the entire season. After the three part season debut (6 part if you count the 3 part season 1 finale as one long movie) where Team Prime ventures on their own fetch quest to restore Optimus’s memories, the board is nearly set. But first, a couple other episodes catching up with C-tier villains and bringing in some shiny new characters.

In these episodes, Megatron’s second-in-command, Starscream, who’s been rogue for quite some time, loses his ability to transform after trying to screw over Bumblebee. A “loose cannon” for Team Prime returns not quite as a main character, but more present than his lone episode in season 1, and Starscream’s replacement, Dreadwing, makes his debut. And, the other rogue character, Airachnid, is temporarily disposed of.

The board is now set: Autobots, Decepticons, and Starscream.

We begin at episode 11, where Megatron decides it’s a grand idea to infect his ship with zombie fuel to speed up some repairs, and the ship gains a life of its own, decoding the rest of the Iacon Database that Optimus left sitting behind, a job left to a different ‘Con, Soundwave, who’s no Optimus but doing his best. In that episode, the humans of Team Prime sneak aboard the wayward ship, steal the only four coordinates of the Fetch Quest that are available, and get the heck out of dodge.

Episodes 12-15: Four whole episodes occurring simultaneously, everyone available on both teams, every major player, Starscream included, all racing to these four locations to pick up either mystery weapons or tools of varying mass destruction. Each episode is intercut with dialogue and details from the other units, all coming to a head with the near-death of the Team Prime “Tank,” Bulkhead.

What’s in these four episodes is just a taste of the tension that the rest of the season will take on, kind of like a tournament arc pitting unlikely foes against each other over the MacGuffin of the day. My favorite is Wheeljack (robot cowboy samurai) and Ratchet (grumpy medic) vs Soundwave (aforementioned decrypter replacement who does not speak). The episode is visually gorgeous with a showdown on a cliff at sunset with the most beautiful golden hour for the fight (pictured above).

Every MacGuffin brings a new twist to the fight of their episode, of the four, 1 goes to the Bots, 1 goes to the Cons, 1 goes to Starscream, and 1 gets destroyed.

In the Wheeljack episode, Ratchet comes up with an idea to sneak a virus into Soundwave so they can steal the rest of the Iacon Database from the Cons, which proves a success.

Enter episodes 16-19, where we take a break from the pacing of the fetch quest to bring in another new character, Smokescreen, let Bulkhead heal up, let Wheeljack almost get murdered horrifically by giant bot beetles, and teach a little girl about how revenge does not bring peace. Oh and do away with the C-tier villains, they (almost) all die.

Episodes 20-23 are the last five coordinates for the quest: A fancy new sword to sell toys for Optimus in an absolutely badass episode where he cuts a whole mountain in half, and the 4 literal keys to restoring Cybertron.

The new tension comes from both making sure that Team Prime gets all four keys, and making sure that Megatron does not find out how important they are.

Team Prime gets 1, Megatron gets 1, Team Prime gets another, and then Starscream comes in out of nowhere to steal the 4th, and then sneaks into the base of Team Prime to steal the other 3.

I cannot remember the exact quote but after a yell of absolute anguish and frustration, Optimus collects himself enough to say: “The fate of our world now lies with Starscream, whatever his intention.”

Because, Starscream can’t do shit alone. He just has a very powerful bargaining tool to either buy back the Bots favor, or buy back his place with the Decepticons. Underscoring the importance of who has the keys is this: Whichever side restores Cybertron will have effectively won the war, able to then brand the other side officially as traitors, for a whole new reign of absolute authority. The stakes could not be higher.

Episode 24: The second and far superior flashback episode taking a look exclusively at Starscream’s role throughout the series and all his fabulous shenanigans, as Megatron puts him on trial to decide whether he should just kill his traitorous little SIC.

While these flashbacks are being displayed literally on a screen like they’re connected via HDMI cable, Dreadwing (Starscream’s interim replacement) finds out that not only did Starscream get his twin killed way back in season 1, but then raised his corpse and left the zombie wandering around the fifth dimension, and Megatron knew about it, and lied. (Dreadwing is a fantastic lawful evil character, this post is just ridiculously long already without giving everybody bios)

The episode ends with Dreadwing betraying his whole side to give Team Prime intel, and a magical MacGuffin hammer (that they initially lost in the earlier stages of the Fetch Quest) to level out the playing field, he then goes back to his team and monologues a bit too long before trying to kill Starscream himself (as Megatron still won’t) and gets murdered for his efforts, when he was absolutely right.

At this point, Starscream is back with the Decepticons, they have all they keys (but not yet the knowledge of how they work or where they go to), and they believe that they have a free shot to fly back to Cybertron as the Autobots don’t have any way to get there themselves.

Enter the finale: Episodes 25 and 26. We’re almost there.

The magic MacGuffin hammer Dreadwing gave the Bots can fix or craft almost anything (with limited uses) and they use it to make their wormhole portal into a much beefier version—a space bridge—to portal themselves to Cybertron with every single weapon they’ve collected over the course of the Fetch Quest in their arsenal.

This is a mission they’ll either win, or die trying, they have to steal back the keys and reach the lock before Megatron does, and Megatron just figured out where the lock is.

The Bots manage to do it all, get the keys, take out hoards of faceless minions in their way, they’re a the lock, all they have to do is turn it on.

When out of seemingly nowhere, Megatron executes his backup plan: The whole season, he’s had Soundwave quietly scoping out the Bots’ secret base, and the homes of their human allies. Due to a grave mistake on Ratchet’s part, those humans are not protected at the worst time possible, and they get kidnapped.

Megatron delivers an ultimatum: Cybertron, or three human children?

Rather controversially, Optimus chooses the children, but destroys the lock so Cybertron can’t be revived by either side.

Episode 26 then ends with the reveal that Megatron discovered the location of their base, and as they all scramble to different corners of the earth, Megatron nukes it, and Optimus with it.

—

What I think TFP does really well with the MacGuffins is that, by and large, they themselves are never the point of their episodes. The writers knew audiences wouldn’t be sated with just the objects themselves carrying the story, which is what every fetch quest story should be:

The MacGuffin itself does not mean shit to the audience, 9 times out of 10. It could be swapped out for something else and largely not impact its purpose in the story. What matters is what it means to everyone who wants it, and what they’re willing to do to get it.

In TFP's case, these MacGuffins cannot be replaced. Several show up more than once to give unique advantages to different fights or become incredibly useful 11th hour tools—the setup and payoff with them is fantastic.

Yes, some of these “relics” are dangerous weapons, but in the background of the whole season there is so much subtext. Optimus’s guilt and Megatron’s manipulations over what he did while he had no memory. Various rivalries between sides coming to a head. The Starscream wild card that continued to take everyone by surprise again and again. Optimus’s increasing impatience to finally end this war and set aside the rivalry to try and kill Megatron for real this time, several times.

Regardless of who had what item, the balance of power between both sides was shifting constantly. The Bots would get a slight advantage, and the Cons would match it immediately. The Cons would win a battle, but then infighting would cost them the next one. Optimus’s fancy sword was shattered the very next episode when Megatron made his own using a stolen hand of a dead Prime to power the magic creation hammer—a nice bit of commentary on mutually assured destruction. Megatron never would have gone that far if Optimus didn’t get his own uber powerful weapon first.

Nor was every battle over the MacGuffin-of-the-day the same. Different players, different environments, different rules at play depending on the power of the MacGuffin itself, or the ulterior motives of either side.

And there were consequences, too, as this series is pretty mature. Dreadwing dies pretty graphically, a different dead Bot gets turned into a ghoul and his (totally canon) husband loses his shit over seeing a filthy human wearing his metal skin around.

If you won’t watch this show because you think the franchise is lame, I can’t change your mind, but if ever there was an entry into the franchise that proved how good it could be—and there is a time and a place for the camp of G1—TFP would be it.

[sainzcentral]

★ good looking.

a/n: a little drabble inspired by suki waterhouse’s good looking. listening to it on repeat and thinking only of carlos so thought I’d write a little something to feed my (and your) delusions. technically can be read for any brown-eyed guy LMAO, I don't mention his name. a.k.a. my thoughts on carlos in the form of a quick ramble-write.

warnings: none.

“baby, I’m high octane…”

“What are you looking at?”

You look back at him just as you had been doing a second before. Only, this time, he’s aware of your gaze.

“Nothing.”

“‘Nothing?’” He chuckles slightly. “Obviously you can’t be looking at nothing if you’re looking at my face.”

“the skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all.

I thought I’d uncovered your secrets, but turns out there’s more.”

His slight laugh is like music to your ears. Strings of a guitar being plucked in such a delicate way, by perfect, imperfectly-carved marble hands. You can picture them in his throat, playing his voice box, and in his chest, supporting his lungs, when he speaks, with that voice of his – oh, his voice, you could listen to it all day. Near his heart.

“you adored me before,”

You must reside there, you think, whether you want to or not. And he resides in yours.

“I guess something.”

He hums, waiting for you to elaborate. His eyes swirl like coffee without cream. There’s a pregnant pause as your eyes continue to scan his face and his eyes scan yours. Looking for that hidden meaning that hangs heavy in the air.

Finally you speak. “You, I guess.”

“oh, my good looking boy.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just in love with you. You’re so pretty. I hate it. But I love you.”

like, comment, and reblog! feel free to send in asks too :)

was heavily inspired by this picture appearing on my feed and me going feral <3

[bignaz8]

When Dan Aykroyd first scribbled down a 324-page script for "The Blues Brothers (1980)," he had no idea it would challenge traditional filmmaking norms and redefine musical comedies forever. The idea had started as a Saturday Night Live skit, but the journey to the big screen was far more complex. The original script, famously dubbed "The Tome," was a sprawling document that included extensive character backstories and intricate details about the world of Jake and Elwood Blues. Aykroyd, who had no prior experience in screenwriting, handed the massive script to director John Landis, leaving him the Herculean task of condensing it into a workable screenplay. This marked the beginning of a production that was as chaotic and vibrant as the film itself.

Bringing the Blues Brothers to life required more than just a trimmed script; it necessitated securing the perfect cast. John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd were already solidified as comedic powerhouses on SNL, but their transformation into Jake and Elwood Blues involved extensive preparation. The duo took their blues personas seriously, immersing themselves in the music and style that defined the genre. This dedication was reflected in their commitment to performing live during the movie's musical sequences. Their authenticity was further enhanced by the inclusion of legendary musicians like Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, James Brown, and Cab Calloway. These icons didn’t just contribute their star power they brought an unparalleled musical credibility to the film, which was crucial to its success.

However, the production was anything but smooth. With a budget that ballooned to nearly $30 million an enormous sum for the time, the film quickly earned a reputation for being one of the most ambitious projects in Hollywood. Part of the expense was due to its elaborate car chases, a hallmark of the film. The production famously destroyed 103 cars, setting a world record for the most vehicles wrecked in a movie. Filming these scenes required intricate planning, massive crews, and specially built vehicles. The iconic chase through a mall, for example, involved weeks of preparation and precise choreography to achieve the chaotic yet seamless result seen on screen.

Adding to the complexity was John Belushi’s unpredictable behavior on set. Known for his larger-than-life personality, Belushi’s antics often caused delays and budget overruns. At the height of his fame, Belushi’s off-screen escapades ranged from impromptu disappearances to wild parties, leaving the production crew scrambling to keep the schedule on track. Despite these challenges, Belushi’s magnetic presence on screen and undeniable chemistry with Aykroyd justified the chaos he brought to the set. Director John Landis, while frustrated at times, managed to channel Belushi’s energy into creating a performance that remains iconic to this day.

Another significant challenge was convincing the studio, Universal Pictures, to take a risk on a film that blended comedy, music, and action in such an unorthodox way. At the time, musicals were considered outdated, and the idea of combining them with high-octane car chases seemed ludicrous to many executives. However, Aykroyd and Landis’s passion for the project, coupled with Belushi’s star power, ultimately won them the green light. Even so, the studio’s faith in the project was tested repeatedly as the production faced escalating costs and persistent delays.

Beyond the logistical hurdles, "The Blues Brothers (1980)," was a cultural milestone in its representation of rhythm and blues music. The film introduced a new generation to the genre, celebrating its roots while showcasing its timeless appeal. For many viewers, it was their first exposure to the likes of Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles, whose unforgettable performances elevated the movie beyond a standard comedy. These musical interludes weren’t just entertaining; they were integral to the story, seamlessly woven into the narrative to drive the plot forward and deepen the characters’ connection to their mission.

The film’s production also had a lasting impact on the city of Chicago, where much of the movie was filmed. The city’s streets, bridges, and landmarks became integral backdrops, giving the film a gritty, authentic atmosphere. Local residents often served as extras, and the production’s presence brought significant economic activity to the area. Despite occasional friction between the production team and city officials, Chicago embraced the film’s chaotic energy, cementing its place as a character in its own right.

Despite its turbulent production, "The Blues Brothers (1980)," was a critical and commercial success upon release. Its unique blend of humor, music, and action resonated with audiences, making it a cult classic that continues to influence filmmakers and musicians alike. The film’s legacy is a testament to the creativity and determination of everyone involved in its making. From Aykroyd’s ambitious script to Landis’s vision and the cast’s unforgettable performances, The Blues Brothers (1980) remains a shining example of how bold risks can lead to cinematic magic.

[coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic]

My New Addiction Pt. 2

Octane x Fem! Reader!

Part one link at the bottom!

Again lmk if the Spanish is off at all, my Spanish knowledge isn’t the best👉🏼😎👉🏼

Once again, mutual pining, slow painful burn of a romance, awkward flirts, etc.

><><><><><><><><

I hope you enjoy! 💚 if you have ideas or suggestions on how this goes feel free to message me!

Octavio was in his room trying to mentally prep himself for having to see you looking nice, not that you didn’t look nice all the time but nicer than usual. We’re you going to wear a dress? A skirt? Pants? What you were gonna wear was gonna kill him as long as it wasn’t plain weird but he figured that wasn’t your style anyways. You didn’t love the spotlight like he did, he kind of liked that about you. He heard a knock on his door and it was none other than Loba, an odd guest right before an event.

“Oh! Hey Lolo, what can I do for you?” He asked with a grin, mask in hand. Loba smiled at him

“Hey speedy, could I borrow a shirt of yours? Pretty please? I need a button up.” She winked, this only confused him, Loba literally had the biggest closet out of the entire crew and she needed a shirt? From him? As confused as he was he shrugged and threw over a smaller silk button up of his that he hardly wore. “Knock yourself out.” She waved and thanked Octavio as she walked away, leaving him to get ready.

What he didn’t know what Loba was styling you for today, you weren’t the most savvy when it came to dressing super nice so naturally you went to the style master herself. She went to your room and threw the shirt at you. You catching it and lookin’ at it. “OooOo! It’s like the perfect green too. You really have nice stuff Loba.” You complimented and she waved her hand to disregard the quality of the item. “Oh please. This hardly sees the light of day, beautiful.” She wasn’t wrong but she did leave out the fact that it was Octavio’s shirt. She styled the button up to just hang off your shoulder, you wearing a black lace bralette underneath, her adding on a few gems to add a subtle glam element on the dainty lace. Pairing this with black satin dress pants. Finishing it with a black belt and heels.

“I’m not the best in heels I’ll be honest.” You admit and she laughs softly.

“You’ll be next to Octavio, he’ll catch you if you stumble I’m sure.” She winked at you, causing a soft blush to creep onto your cheeks. See how these things work is basically each team gets interviewed after a short ‘red carpet’ type entrance. Most of the time the teams coordinate a little to make the pictures more appealing so that’s why you were looking for a green aspect of the outfit. Loba sighed and placed her hand on her forehead. “Ugh, I should’ve asked if he had a spare mask. Oh well.” She threw down her staff, causing her black market to pop up. Quickly going in and finding a mask that worked with the outfit and snatched it from his room, then some goggles and swiftly closing it. “I doubt he noticed. He’s probably playing music.” She grinned devilishly and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“We’ll as long as I give it back I guess.” You shrugged the blatant stealing and just left it alone. It wasn’t a big deal anyhow. You finished the outfit with pining the goggles to your styled hair, it was left down but it was curled. (if you have curly hair it was just styled slightly). Loba did a dark green Smokey eye with some silver on the inner corner, putting on lashes and a dark red lip to finish it off. Highlighter on your high points and she smiled. “My my, aren’t you pretty?” She cupped your face. “Speedy is gonna lose it.” She teased and said goodbye so she could get ready. She usually had a team of people to make it quick for her, she was sought after for pictures so she was at a higher standard than the others.

You did another once over on yourself, you felt really attractive for once. You smiled a little and added a little subtle necklace and a few rings to accent everything. Taking a few selfies to post later you finally heard the announcement to get to your vehicles to depart. You started making your way to the pick up, where everyone was at. A few whistles and some of the girls complimenting you as you arrived. Even though you’ve been here a little while you hadn’t had a conference that asked specifically for more formality. You personally hadn’t had a duo’s match until now so you figured that was why. Natalie walked over to you, wearing an beautiful blue dress, modest. Her hair out, showing off her golden locks. “Wow! You look exquisite!” She complimented and gave you a hug, she was such a sweetheart when she wasn’t in a match, she was a menace to go up against sometimes. She had been teamed up with Anitta, an unlikely duo but they didn’t do bad. Loba strutted to the pickup and wrapped her arm around you. “Thank you, this is my work.” She announced proudly. “She’ll be the bell of the ball.” She air kisses your cheek, to not ruin the mask you were wearing.

Ajay giggled a bit and looked around for a certain green haired fella, not seeing him yet. “Silva is gon’ enjoy the eye candy for sure.” Everyone knew you had a crush on this man by now, except him. You made small talk with everyone until you heard a family mechanical footstep. Everyone kind of naturally covered you, Gibby being the main wall. Octavio waved. “Sorry sorry! I couldn’t get this tie on.” He looked at everyone and watched as they parted away for him to finally see you. Thank the Gods he was wearing his goggle and mask combo or else you would’ve seen his face heat up in a unsuspected blush, that was his shirt. His shirt. On your body. “Dios mio…” he breathed out, poor guy didn’t know how to react, he just stared a bit. Ajay snapped her fingers. “Say something ya’ stupid boy.” His gaze snapped to her and back to you before finally speaking. “Wow! How lucky am I to have such an attractive teammate! The fans are gonna love this!” He rushed over to your side, pulling out his phone to snap some selfies. A few other legends peeking in a few of the shots. Soon everyone’s individual rides pulled up and everyone started to pile into their assigned car. Octavio reached and opened the door and gestured for you to enter first. “Pretty ones first.” He did and over exaggerated bow as you passed by, causing you to laugh. He followed you in and plopped into his seat. Once the doors were closed and you two were off he rubbed the back of his neck. “So that’s why Lolo needed a shirt huh?” He asked, you looked at him confused. “What? No she had this… right?” Looked at him and he shook his head. “Nope, that’s mine. She asked for it while I was gettin’ ready. Also… is the mask and goggles mine too?” He asked through a chuckle. You flushed a bit pink and laughed awkwardly. “O-oh! I didn’t know this shirt was yours, no wonder it was the perfect green. Yeah these are yours too, she used her market to snatch them.” You tattled, “I was gonna give them back though! Don’t worry.” You explained and felt awkward now, looking at your outfit. Did you look okay in his clothes? Was it weird?

Octavio shrugged and put both hands behind his head, leaning back into the seat. “Meh, you should keep it. Looks better on you anyways. The shirt I mean, the mask and goggles are my thing.” He looked at you and winked, causing your heart to skip a little. Trying desperately to not show how bashful you were feeling by his compliments. You soon saw him sit back up quickly, grabbing his phone again. Turning towards you, “look at my teammate everyone! Isn’t she la mas linda?!” You laugh and try covering his phone. “What does that mean!! Are you making fun of me you jerk?!” You tease and he shakes his head, looking at you, through the goggles. “No I said aren’t you the prettiest.” You stop moving and your face was radiating heat now. “I- oh shut up.” You laugh it off and return to sitting normally, your heart beating rapidly. “He acts like he doesn’t get to see Loba everyone something like this happens!” You grin, pulling down your mask. “Maybe he has a crush on me huh? Tease him about it for me will ya?” You say to the phone. Not knowing if he was live-streaming or just recording this. He laughed and soon turned the phone around, showing he was just recording it on his phone, he switched it to pictures and took a few more photos. He liked pictures. The more to post the better. “Ok! Now just ignore me for a second, look out the window. Model for me real quick.” He chuckled. Not expecting you to do it with ease. He had never seen you model, okay it saw you do it for your Legend photos but those don’t count! He hadn’t seen you model like this. Your legs were crossed and you had you phone in your hand, looking down at it, hand in hair like you were leaning onto it. His eyes lingered on your frame, seeing how well the clothes outlined your body. How his hands wanted to dance along your skin, if you looked this good in clothing how would you look without them? Quickly attempting to shut down the thoughts running rampant he snapped one photo, one was plenty for him. “Wow.” He whispered and smiled, snapping back into the fun, unbothered Octane. “Nice!! Now one of me!” You laugh a bit more and take a picture or two for him.

He sure did love his fans. He was always doing something for them it seemed. Daring stunts someone requested, replying to some letters even. He was a really sweet guy to his fans. It was cute to see. The conversation was typical the rest of the way, fun and weird at points. Soon the car stopped, in line to drop you off at the entrance of the carpet. You breath and look in the mirror to make sure you looked alright. Octane looking over at you double checking yourself. He whispered something and you looked over, catching him just gazing at you. “Tavi?” You ask as you pull up the mask. “A-ah! Haha! Don’t worry about how you look, you look fine!! Let’s go out there and show them the best team ever. That didn’t win but we’re totally the coolest!!” He was so enthusiastic and you loved it. You smile and give a nod, waiting for your turn.

The car stopped and Octane opened the door, exiting first. “Heyyyy!!!” He said all excited before stepping to the side and offering his hand to you. “C’mon hermosa.” You take his hand and exit, placing a hand in your pocket and putting on your model face for the pictures. You wave to people and you both make your way to the main carpet. Posing for some individual photos you soon felt a hand snake around your waist, you looked over and it was Octane, still posing. Your heart raced again and you leaned into him, following his vibe. There was a couple ‘serious’ ones and the rest were you two throwing up peace signs and rock on signs, he picked you up once, putting you on one of his shoulders effortlessly. You laughed and took off the mask, sticking your tongue out and laughing. Once off the carpet it was on to questions.

The whole thing was over awhile later and it was time to go get dinner with everyone at the bar. You had the mask off entirely at this point, putting it in your back pocket and Octavio was doing the same, he had gone to the bar to get a drink in him before he had to socialize with you again. Walter (fuse) walked up to the bar and watched as Tavi’ downed a strong shot. “Whoa there, tough day or somethin’ mate? You aren’t one for shots usually.” He asked as the bartender fixed his drink. Octavio shook his head. “No, nothing like that amigo, just…” he sighed and Walter chuckled. “Is ya little lady crush lookin’ a little too nice for ya?” He asked as he sipped a bit of his drink. Octavio groaned and looked at him “Is it that obvious?! Damn…” the two share a laugh and Walter leaned on the bar. “Listen mate, good ole Fitzroy has had his fair share of…eh well, partners. What I’ve learned is that it’s best to at least make your feelin’s known.” Octane looked at him like he was crazy. “Hey now you don’t gotta do a whole confession of love and shit, but Yaknow. Flirt it up, make her blush. See how she reacts. Trust me you’ll know if she ain’t interested.” He patted his pals back before walking off to join his partner Bloodhound.

Tavi sighed and ordered a drink to have while hanging out. That’s when you walked in, looking as sexy as ever. He watched as you greeted everyone that was nearby and Ajay gestured towards the bar. You smile seeing Tavi already over there, you thanked her and made your way over. “Hey Tavi! Some of the pics are already posted online, look!” You pulled out your phone and showed him some of the shots the press had taken of you two, gosh you looked good together. “Hey! That’s rad! Look at my face in that one!!” He laughed and so did you. “Tavi, you can’t see your face, Fuckin’ dork!” He made an ‘oops’ face and shrugged. “Eh, whatever. Want a drink?” He asked and you nodded. You order your favorite drink and wait for it to be made. You also needed a drink to listen up around Octavio looking so dashing. You figured you hadn’t said anything about he looks so now was as good as ever. “Yaknow, you look pretty hot ya self speedy.” He was mid drink when you stated this, he damn near choked. He chuckled, playing it off as well as he could. “Oh~? You think so huh? Are you falling for me, Chica?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed as you got your drink handed to you. “Don’t know Silva. Show me some dance moves and I’ll figure it out.” You leave a subtle flirt as you saunter off to Loba, who was the one that encouraged a flirt or two to be dropped, along with Ajay who knew how dense her friend could be. Speaking of Ajay, Octavio basically chugged his drink after that interaction and rushed over to her. “Che. Talk. Now.” Was all that was said before he dragged her off into an empty hall.

“What Silva? You can’t go draggin’ me off like that without a good reason so what’s goin’ on hm?” She asked a little annoyed at his sudden actions.

“Che, you’re a girl.” She almost looked offended.

“Yeah..?”

“And I may or may not have a crush, on a girl” he halfway admitted.

“You do have a crush but go on.”

“And I- hey. Anyways. I think she just flirted with me. What do I do?” Poor boy was so nervous. He’s had a couple one night stands but those were with fans who made it very clear that they wanted him. Ajay looked slightly amused. “Oh you poor thing, okay. Tell me what happened.” She listened to Octavio reenact the interaction between you two, word for word. She rolled her eyes at how obvious the flirt was and smiled a bit. “What are you, stupid? She wants you to dance with her, boy!! Now stop talkin to me and go! Don’t be creepy either!”

With that he was pumped. There was a chance. You don’t flirt with anyone so that had to be a sign right?? He could feel the liquid courage coursing through him and it was giving him a rush of excitement. “Oi! Hermosa, let’s dance.” He held out his hand and you smiled taking it and having him lead you to the dance floor. There were already a handful of friends out on the floor, along with some higher ups from the conference from earlier. You and Octavio danced as club music was playing through the speakers. You started out just dancing facing each other, bumping and lip syncing to the music together. Loba gathered the girls Natalie, Tressa, Ramya and her girlfriend Kairi to the dance floor to, give you hand. Loba entered your little circle and started dancing behind you, taking place a man. Hands on your hips and dancing close, “you should dance like this with a certain someone.” She said next to your ear. “Let me help.” She continued to dance with you until she suddenly left and a new body took her spot, that person was Octavio. He kept his hands to himself, just kind of side stepping to the song. “Hey.” He said, looking at you. There was a moment before he grabbed your waist and started dancing with you, he was Hispanic and his hips only proved that. He wasn’t grinding but you could see his movements.

Fuck it

You closed the distance, pressing against him and dancing with him, reaching up behind you and putting your hand behind his head as you danced. His hands remained respectful, not wandering. Although you wished he would. “Chica’s got dance moves!” He shouted over the music and you smirked, turning to face him and body rolling on him slowly. “Only with people I like.” You also had some liquid courage flowing. He continued to grip your hips and matched your energy, he wasn’t a stranger to dancing flirty. Getting lost in the music and crowd you danced with him for what felt like forever until it was time to eat. Renee coming into the dance floor and fetching the girls, including you. Didn’t give you much of a chance to object or say anything before being dragged off, this was planned. Leave him wanting more type of thing. Soon one of the guys came to wrangle the rest of the boys and meet up at their private table.

Octavio planned on sitting by you and continuing the flirtation but you had people on either side of you, the seat across from you was free though so he snagged that. It was two long tables by each other with an array of food on each of them. Octavio didn’t waste much time I’m getting food on his plate, a little bit of everything and extra of the things he liked. Small talk and casual conversation was heard as everyone was eating, Octavio glancing at you from time to time and you doing the same, anytime you two caught each other you’d just flash a soft smile his way and continue with whatever conversation you were having. That was basically the dinner, you two didn’t get to talk much, not just because everyone was talking to everyone but you two both didn’t know what to really say. There was always the ride back from the bar though. It wasn’t too far.

With dinner finished you all chatted at the tables a little while longer, laughter and camaraderie seeping out of every window. You enjoyed this. Everyone here were pals, of course they didn’t ALL get along all the time. Revenant and Ash were a tough duo to ‘befriend’ and anyone would say they put up with everyone else most of the time. It was finally time to leave, the vehicles lined up outside for everyone to get in. Octavio tapped your shoulder before you could leave. “Hey, wanna walk back? I’m not ready to end the night just like that!! I still got a buzz.” He laughed a bit and against your better judgement you agreed. “Hah! Okay Tavi, we can walk back.” You said happily. He rushed and told your driver that he didn’t have to worry about you two and began to walk back to the legends precinct. Octavio for once wasn’t taking pictures of snagging videos. He was just walking along side you, of course he would jump occasionally over things and maybe add a flip in there. But for Octane, he was pretty chill. “So, hermosa. What did you think of your first fancy shmancy after party thing?” He asked and you grinned. “Oh it was a lot of fun, I don’t get to get dolled up much, especially now. Just doesn’t make sense. I’m gonna get all sweaty and probably bleed most days so why try?” You laugh a bit and he joins in. “Yeah, those typically aren’t my favorite, it takes a lot of work to even put a tie on, takes too long Yaknow?” You nod, a smile just resting on your lips. “I did enjoy dancing with you though, that was a lot of fun.” You looked up at him as he walked backwards in front of you, he tripped a little when you said that and he laughed. “Yeah! I didn’t know you could move like that! I mean I knew that were good at moving in matches but that’s totally different. It was hot!” He blurted out and he realized what he said and made an ‘oh shit’ face. Wide eyes and awkward smile. You felt a soft heat on your face and you laughed a little. “Oh yeah, I’m so hot…it’s all thanks to Loba’s hard work.” You looked down as you walked, you weren’t the most confident in your appearance but you learned to just be content with it most days. You didn’t realize Octavio stopped walking and you bumped into him, you looked up at him confused. “Don’t say that, I think you’re very pretty, even without all the frills.” Well you couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks after that statement. You just let out an awkward chuckle and avoided his eyes, “I-.. uh well thanks. I appreciate it.” He didn’t move, he just stood in front of you. There was a long pause and you finally looked back up at him, his eyes locked onto your frame. “I didn’t lie when I said I had the most attractive teammate today.” You weren’t ready to accept all these compliments while he was so close to you. “Okay okay! What’s got you so affectionate, the booze?” You tease, playfully pushing him away and walking passed. Octavio was trying so hard to make it obvious that he liked you without having to say it directly, usually he could tell anyone anything pretty bluntly but with this he couldn’t find the words. He was stuck in his head until he heard you wince slightly. He turned around and saw your poor feet in those heels. “Oh man! I bet your feet hurt! I didn’t even think about that, lo siento.” You couldn’t even respond before you saw Octavio kneel in front of you, back facing you. “Hop on! All aboard the Octrain!” You couldn’t help but accept his offer, you climb onto his back and he once again lifts you up effortlessly. “Woo! Let’s go!” Was all that was said before you had to cling on for dear life, the man took off in a sprint, even without a stim he was fast as hell.

With that speed it was no time that you guys were back at the precinct and heading up to your rooms. He didn’t allow you to walk anymore until you were safely back in your room. Once to your door he slid you off his back and did a few hops “That was fun!” He smiled wide and you grinned looking up at him. “Thanks Tavi, you didn’t have to do that.” He shook his head “Hey, I’m the one who asked to walk! It’s my fault I didn’t think of your torture devices on your feet.” You both laugh and you nod “Yeah, fuckin’ hate heels.” You admit “But damn they do wonders to the legs.” You strike a pose and he did too, sharing yet more laughter as you turned the knob of your door. You didn’t want to end it yet but it was getting late. “Well , I had fun today thanks to you. I hope we get paired up again soon.” He put his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah, me too, chica.” He rubbed the back of his neck watching you enter your room,

“Night Tavi.”

“G’night y/n.”

With a click of your door shutting you slid to the floor, biting your lip. You had to tell him sooner or later. Today really tested you on not just kissing him. Stupid guy with his stupid handsome face. You sigh and kick off those heels and start undressing to get into comfy clothes for the night.

He went to his room and changed into looser clothes and decided to take a run, he had a lot of energy after tonight and needed to get rid of it if he wanted any chance of sleep tonight.

↩️Prev Part. Next part.↪️

[korkorali]

Oooooohhhh are we talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene? I think we're talking about Bradford telling Della about the Spear of Selene!

Okay okay this is something I have Ideas™️about- specifically why he told her, and why she believed him.

The answer (as I have so humbly decided is obviously the abject truth) is the same for both: Because he'd been manipulating her for years.

He was trying to be the Emperor Palpatine to her Anakin Skywalker.

Why? Simple: The Papyrus of Truth.

Think about it- it doesn't make sense to immediately go 'oh, only Scrooge McDuck's heir can find the Papyrus? Welp, time to steal some of his DNA and make a kid!' That's supervillain territory, and Bradford isn't a supervillain! (He's just a bit of a scumbag, but that's not a supervillain so it's obviously fine.)

So picture this: he finds out about the wish Scrooge made on the Papyrus, that only his heir could find it, and his thought patterns line up with Scrooge's:

He thinks "Alright, then it has to be one of those rugrats."

The question is, which one? Della, or Donald?

And honestly, when they're both kids- it's not really that much of a question, is it?

Is it Donald, the angry coward who loves to hole up in his room and write songs about eating the rich and basically doing everything that Scrooge hates?

Or is it Della, the adventurous and energetic ball of high-octane excitement and adrenaline, unable to sit still for a single moment, who acts like Scrooge McDuck, who likes all the same things as Scrooge McDuck, who is pretty much every single thing that Bradford Buzzard hates about Scrooge McDuck, all rolled up into a bratty child?

(Nevermind the fact that she isn't actually like that, not entirely. Nevermind the fact that she's doing all that because she feels she has to be useful, to be likeable, and that means mirroring Scrooge McDuck because if he likes himself so much then he must like seeing himself in her.)

Obviously it's Della. It has to be.

Which means, in order for him to get the Papyrus, he needed to get his claws into Della.

Which shouldn't have been hard- you can't tell me that Scrooge wouldn't do the same thing with Donald and Della that he did with Louie. He'd take them to the Money Bin (after all, it's like a second home for him), then head into his office and tell them not to disturb him.

And that'd leave Della in the perfect position for Bradford to begin to wheedle his ways past her defenses.

(Of course, multiple problems arise, not the least of which is she's a child and Bradford undoubtedly hates children. But moreso it's that she's genre-savvy, and also (and we love her for it, but) kind of dumb. It's a very frustrating mix that leads to her very nearly calling him out on what he's doing a lot.

But also, despite all that- she's still a kid.

And despite how much she thinks she knows, he's still better.)

It'd take a while, and I don't think he ever really manages it, but he still gets her to trust him.

Eventually, of course, he learns that Della isn't the 'heir of Scrooge McDuck.'

(Not sure how this happens, but it obviously does- I'm sure that lots of the Adventure Trio's adventures in the earlier days were spent searching for that missing Papyrus, but for some reason they stopped. The whole thing threatened to tear Donald and Della apart, or something.)

And that makes all the work he spent on her useless. All the time spent manipulating her, and trying (and -mostly- failing) to get her to be something he wanted, to push her to break up her family, all for naught.

Or- maybe not.

Because Scrooge keeps a secret. He makes her a spaceship. An untested, unreliable, terrible spaceship that literally runs on money.

It's horrible.

It's a waste.

It's perfect.

All the work doesn't have to be for naught. All Bradford has to do is let Della come to him one day, when she's at the Money Bin (probably because she and Donald and Scrooge were going shopping for baby toys, and she kept trying to get these really dangerous and deadly-looking ones, and ultimately got sent to the Money Bin as a bit of a 'time out'), let her rant and burn herself out to him about how frustrating Donald and Scrooge are being, how unfair they are (how scared she is, how much she just wishes they'd let her actually handle some stuff, how bad they make her feel for still wanting to adventure at a time like this, how much it feels like all either of them care about anymore are the kids and not her), how much it blows to be stuck like this.

And all Bradford has to do is offer up some half-hearted consolement, assure her that (while Donald is definitely being too overprotective) that of course Scrooge still cares about her, is still thinking about her, is still thinking about her, after all he's making her the-

And then cut himself off, like he said too much. That's aaaaallll that's needed to peak Della's interest, after all. And as soon as that's peaked- it's over.

All he has to do is hem and haw back and forth, say 'oh but he made me promise never to say anything' and 'I could get in trouble' and so on and so forth. Make it seem like he didn't want to say anything. Make Della feel like she earned the information, that he didn't plan this from the start.

And when she finally gets the information about the Spear out of him, and her eyes light up like stars and she darts off to go see if he was telling the truth, he can be confident that she'll never remember that he was the one who told her about it. All she'd be able to think about is 'I figured it out.' Because she had, after all. She'd figured it out, all her, he definitely hadn't pointed her in that direction at all.

He got to get rid of a liability and break the family, all in one fell swoop.

[youpricksneverwalk]

I'm rewatching s3, because ive realised its probably the series I've seen least, and the first prize task made me notice there are now 3 times in taskmaster that contestants have been mentioned (either directly or otherwise) as part of a prize task before being on the show (two being in the last and up coming series):

In s3e1 Sara Pascoe brings in this clock:

As her prize for most flamboyant clock. In her explanation she mentions that it was a gift she got for her boyfriend 'who's a huge Freddie Mercury fan', and based on when s3 happened and the fact that he is a known Queen obsessive, we can pretty safely say she was referring to John Robins who will be on s17.

Then in s5 for most high-octane item Mark brings in a pair of Greg's trousers:

Which he specifically mentions that he had Ed Gamble steal for him, and then in s9 Ed is a contestant.

And the third one was in s7 when James Acaster brought in this picture for most surprisingly beautiful thing:

Which he says was drawn by his friend Sam, and it was confirmed in the podcast that said friend was s16 contestant Sam Campbell.

Also fun little note that Ed and Sam both won their series, and we haven't seen how John did yet, but???

[99corentine]

How To Write Good by Corentine

THE DRAFTING PROCESS, PART 2/2

Writing guide continued! Here's PART ONE.

STEP THREE: THE START, THE END, THE BEATS

I’m of the opinion that every story should start with a bang. You could start mid-way through a notable event, as seen in GHD:

- O L H A - D - V - The words, incomprehensible, rattle around his head like the last rumbles of a great thunderstorm. Then, much like after a storm has passed, the air suddenly feels clearer, sharper. A sludgy fog he didn’t even realise he was in clears from his mind and he blinks, confused. The first thing he sees is his own hands.

If you want it to be especially punchy, you can start with a line of dialogue or a short sentence, like I did for T4T:

CHAPTER ONE: It is the end.

It’s reeeally easy to lose readers at the start, so you always want to write a strong opener. Something that grabs the reader by the collar and drags them in to read the rest of the chapter.

You don’t need to have all the details, but you should have at least a vague idea of how the story ends. If you’re writing fanfic that follows along the same plot as a game or existing story, most of the legwork is done for you – so writing GHD, I planned for it to end when Alduin was killed. As I got further into the story, I came up with a more narratively satisfying ending, because it’s okay if the ending changes. As long as you have an ending in mind, you have something to work towards.

So GHD’s original, very basic plot was:

START – the Last Dragonborn wakes up with total amnesia

???

He saves Miraak

???

They kill Alduin together – END 

Now you have to map out those ??? parts by deciding the major beats of the story, i.e. notable scenes. This gives you something to work towards other than the ending. I ended up with notes like these:

START – the Last Dragonborn wakes up with total amnesia

Who is he? Don’t spend too much time on this, not important, can be answered later

Goes to Solstheim, meets Miraak

Finds a way to communicate with Miraak – sneaks into Apocrypha? Shares dreams? College of Winterhold has psijiics, use telepathy?

Finds a way to save Miraak

Go to Apocrypha, confront Hermaeus Mora, save Miraak

They look for ways to kill Alduin together

Hermaeus Mora comes for them

Prolonged recovery, tells reader that even ‘redeemed’ Miraak is still scary

They kill Alduin together

What happens after Alduin?

(Redacted for spoiler purposes) – END 

The story beats should ebb and flow like the tide; high-octane scenes should be followed by periods of calm. You don’t want to do this too quickly or the story will feel like whiplash; rather this is a process that happens over many chapters. Let’s look at some examples in GHD:

⇈⇈ Miraak dominates telepathy and is really scary!! ⇊⇊ Chry wanders around Skyrim doing errands and Thinking About Life… ⇈⇈ Chry breaks Miraak out of Apocrypha!!  ⇊⇊ They recover from the ordeal and have a honeymoon period… ⇈⇈ They go to Blackreach and it’s visually awesome, and also Chry gets jealous!! ⇊⇊ They do misc stuff for a while… ⇈⇈ They talk to Septimus Signus, Mora shows up, nearly kills Chry!! ⇊⇊ Miraak whisks Chry away somewhere to recover in peace…

You see what I mean?

Right, you know roughly what’s going to happen. Time to turn that into words, baby!

STEP FOUR: GOTTA START WRITING

My actual writing style is its own separate topic so I’m not going to tell you how I structure a sentence or anything, just my literal writing process. 

In my chapter document, I start by making a bullet-point list of everything I want to happen in the chapter. What happens can, and probably will, change as you actually get the chapter down. That’s fine, you just need a starting point.

I very rarely write individual chapters in order, as in start to finish. Rather, I tend to write the scenes I can picture clearly in my head – then by the time I’ve written those I’m in a writing groove and the gaps in the rest of the chapter will come easier. When I’m done, I’ll stitch the individual scenes together, which sometimes requires altering the scene start or end to make the whole thing more cohesive.

There are times when the writer’s block takes me, and I have like two finished scenes and just cannot summon the words for the rest of the chapter. When this happens, to be honest, the only answer I’ve found is brute force: I sit myself in front of the computer, get rid of phone/alt tabs/other distractions, and force myself to type something. Or I hold myself hostage (i.e. ‘I am not allowed to play more Baldur’s Gate 3 until I have written GHD chapter 47’) that works too, for me anyway. 

Whatever it takes to get something on paper. What’s mostly important is to get something written, even if it’s not very good. You can always edit, rephrase or even rewrite sections later. Usually I’ve found once you start writing, you get into a groove and then it’s no longer a chore.

I also aim for a certain word count / chapter length while writing. I know a chapter is exactly as long as it needs to be and blah blah, but I set myself a minimum wordcount to reach. Or if I go way over the word count it’s probably because I’ve waffled too much, so I either aim to split the chapter into two, or to ruthlessly edit it back down again. 

For GHD I average 7,000 - 9,000 words, but I actually think that’s a bit too long and risks losing people’s attention span, so for T4T I aim lower, about 6,000-ish. Less is perfectly fine, but if I’m reading another fic I find a chapter length of 2,000 words or lower to be disappointingly short. That’s all personal preference of course, and certain fics will lend themselves better to shorter chapters.

Although I jump around scenes within each chapter, I make a point of writing my entire chapters in chronological order. If I’m on chapter 5, and I know something awesome happens in chapter 12, it’s imperative that I do not write chapter 12 ahead of time. If I do, I’ll reeeally struggle to write chapters 6-11, because I have already rewarded my brain by writing the cool thing. If I hold off, my enthusiasm to write chapter 12 may in fact motivate me to crank out chapters 6-11 in record time.

I do have one other thing – in my Scrivener projects I always have a document called ‘Unused’. Sometimes, usually at like 2AM when sleep has failed me, I’ll get a really good idea for some dialogue or description. I scribble it down somewhere (or it will be forgotten for sure) and later I type it into my Unused document, so it’s just filled with random bits of text like this (note, everything you see here is unused, so it's not going to feature in the last chapter of GHD):

At some point in time I’ll peruse it and think ‘yes, this line!!’ and drop it into a future chapter – again though I just write bits, not entire scenes or I’ll have written all the exciting parts already. Anything I edit out of a chapter (i.e. a paragraph I liked but didn’t quite fit) gets dropped here too, in case I can reuse it later.

STEP FIVE: FINAL EDITING

I will be honest, I’m pretty impatient. Once I’ve finished a chapter, especially if it’s one I’ve been struggling with for a long time, I want to publish it now. So I’m guilty of not editing as thoroughly as I should – but this is what I usually do and it catches at least most of my mistakes:

As a first step, I copy-paste the chapter from Scrivener into google docs. Remember I said Scriv’s word processor wasn’t the best? Yeah, it’s no good at picking up on dodgy grammar, but google docs is, so I run it through there and skim-check for wiggly blue lines, then make the changes in Scriv. You may not have this issue if you’re using Word or another more comprehensive software

In my great excitement, I publish the new chapter to AO3. As I re-read the chapter over there, I see a minimum of 5 glaring errors I somehow didn’t spot in the previous steps, and hastily correct them before anyone notices.

Once I know the grammar is mostly fixed, I run it through a text to speech software to read it back to me (surprisingly Microsoft Edge has quite a good one built in called 'Read Aloud'). You'd be surprised how many mistakes you pick up this way. I’m looking for whatever google didn’t catch, wonky phrasing, repetition (i.e. I used the word ‘quickly’ twice in the space of two paragraphs, that sort of thing)

Sometimes I do a re-read with a fresh pair of eyes, anywhere from hours to days later. If I have the patience, of course...

I like to get at least the first 2-3 chapters of a brand new story written before I post anything to AO3. This is to make sure my enthusiasm doesn’t immediately wane and I actually stand a chance of finishing it. After that I’m rarely more than a chapter ahead of what’s been posted, because go figure I’ll post the newly-written chapter once the editing is done, then start on the next one.

Some people won’t even post a story at all until they have the first draft fully written. This is admirable, but not always realistic – GHD is like 375,000 words, you think I would’ve sat down and written all that before posting chapter one and even knowing if anyone would read it? Hell no. 

But while you don’t need a story to be fully written, you do need it to be decently mapped-out. I used to start fics with absolutely no idea where they were going to go; I’d finish 1 or 2 chapters, get really excited at writing that much and hungry for feedback, then post something that I would inevitably lose all enthusiasm for and leave unfinished.

So, know how it starts, know how it ends, and know the story beats in between so you always have a goal to write towards. There will inevitably be fics that you never finish and that’s fine – it’s all writing practice – but readers don’t like to be left hanging, so try your best to finish! Even if it takes ahem four years or so.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

And there you go, that’s my writing process! I’m not sure how useful that really is, but if it was I could write more guides in future? I have…

A guide to my writing style (this one might be hard to put into a guide but people like my turn of phrase so, maybe useful?)

How I write a sex scene

How I write a fight scene.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Formual 1 / MotoGP Fusion - Part 6

Summary: You are the first female MotoGP rider ever. You race for KTM Factory Racing, leaving Jack Miller your teammate, and one of your main sponsors is Red Bull. You grew up with most of the riders but your best friend is the multiple MotoGP Champion Marc Marquez. After your horrific crash the year before, you are ready to start the new season and probably a new love?

Pre-Story - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

A/N: Some pics are just random people - I know, I know, but they fit ;)

Ship: Not telling yet (Marc Marquez, Carlos Sainz or Charles Leclerc)

Warnings: none

Taglist: @laneyspaulding19, @luciaexcorvus, @raizelchrysanderoctavius

💥 Love Triangle Chronicles Continue: Y/N Y/L/N Kisses Carlos Sainz After F1 Miami GP, but Y/L/N's Twitter Comment Leaves Fans Bewildered! 💔😘

😱 The rollercoaster of emotions continues as conflicting signals bewilder fans, while Pierre Gasly's defense adds a new twist to the love saga! 💔🤔

In a stunning turn of events after the F1 Miami Grand Prix, the love triangle involving MotoGP star Y/N Y/L/N, Charles Leclerc, and Carlos Sainz has taken yet another dramatic twist, leaving fans utterly bewildered. After an exhilarating race where Leclerc finished in P7 and Sainz secured P5, a captivating picture emerged, capturing Y/L/N congratulating Sainz with a tender kiss on the cheek, fueling the belief that they are more than just friends. However, Y/L/N's recent comment on Twitter has cast a cloud of confusion over the entire affair, leading fans to question the true nature of her relationships. 💔😘🤔

The image, capturing the intimate moment between Y/L/N and Sainz, sent shockwaves through the racing community, with fans leaning towards Team Sainz as the preferred romantic interest for Y/L/N. Hearts shattered and emotions ran high as fans passionately declared their allegiance to their chosen driver in the hopes of capturing Y/L/N's heart. 💔💑🔥

However, just as fans were beginning to celebrate the apparent confirmation of the Y/L/N-Sainz romance, a surprising tweet from Y/L/N herself threw everything into disarray. In her comment, she emphatically stated that she and Sainz are merely friends, leaving followers in a state of confusion and raising questions about the true nature of the kiss shared after the race. 🤔💔

Adding another layer of intrigue to the already complex love saga, Charles Leclerc's best friend and fellow F1 driver, Pierre Gasly, stepped forward to defend his companion, asserting that Sainz and Y/L/N are indeed just friends. Gasly's intervention only served to further complicate matters, leaving fans wondering if he is trying to protect his best friend's interests or if there is more to the story than meets the eye. 🕵️‍♀️🔍

With conflicting signals and a web of emotions entangling the racing world, fans are left with more questions than answers. Will the true nature of Y/L/N's romantic connections ever be unveiled, or will this love triangle continue to confound and captivate us all? Stay tuned as the high-octane drama continues to unfold both on and off the track! 🏁🌟

yourusername22 ☑️ Le Mans Circuit Bugatti, France

Liked by marcmarquez93, motogp, charles_leclerc and 964’735 others

yourusername22 Great Q2 with @jackmilleraus on P4 and P3 for me! We gonna rock this race @ktmfactoryracing!!

View all 5'243 comments

ktmfactoryracing 🥳👏🏼👏🏼 We’re so proud! jackmilleraus 👏🏼😁

marcmarquez93 You almost got me, goof yourusername22 Lucky you! I’ll get you tomorrow 😉

motogp Finally we’re back! 💪🏼

charles_leclerc Well done! 👏🏻

f1baaabe Okay, me literally screaming, everytime Charles interacts with Y/N!!! 😱😱😱 amex798 Right? I wanna finally see them together!

🌟 Leclerc's Surprise Appearance at MotoGP Le Mans: Charles Supports Y/L/N as She Secures P3 in Qualifying! 💥🏍️ ☑️ 

😱 Love triangle takes a backseat as attention turns to an unexpected MotoGP rendezvous and Y/L/N's impressive performance! 🤩

In a stunning twist to the ongoing love triangle saga, F1 star Charles Leclerc was spotted at the MotoGP Le Mans in France, putting the focus momentarily on the racetrack rather than the tangled web of relationships. The Monagesque driver surprised fans as he appeared to support his rumored love interest, Y/N Y/L/N, who delivered an impressive performance by securing P3 in the qualifying session. 💥🏍️🇫🇷

While rumors of a romance between Y/L/N and Leclerc have been circulating, the attention temporarily shifted to their professional endeavors as Y/L/N's outstanding achievement took center stage. Fans were captivated by her prowess on the track, leaving the love debate momentarily on hold. The electrifying atmosphere at Le Mans was charged with excitement as Y/L/N showcased her skills, leaving spectators in awe. 🏆🌟

As the dust settled from the thrilling qualifying session, attention inevitably returned to the ongoing love saga. Fans, who had been leaning towards Team Sainz after Y/L/N's affectionate gesture at the F1 Miami GP, were left pondering the true nature of her connections once again. Y/L/N's recent comment on Twitter stating that she and Sainz are just friends added another layer of confusion, fueling speculation and raising questions about her interactions with Leclerc. 😘💔🤔

Adding to the intrigue, Charles Leclerc's best friend, Pierre Gasly, previously defended Sainz and Y/L/N's friendship, leading fans to wonder if his presence at the MotoGP race was a subtle show of support for Y/L/N's racing achievements rather than a romantic gesture. The love triangle saga continues to twist and turn, captivating fans with every unexpected development. 💔🔥🔄  

As the racing world eagerly awaits the next chapter in this enthralling narrative, the focus now shifts back to the MotoGP Le Mans race itself. Will Y/L/N's outstanding performance on the track translate into a victorious finish, further intensifying the love triangle storyline? Buckle up, racing enthusiasts, for the journey is far from over, and the final lap promises to be the most exhilarating yet! 🏁🌟

[mariacallous]

The title card that opens 1979’s original Mad Max places the action in a very near future, looming just “a few years from now.” George Miller’s cult action-thriller captured the edginess of a world teetering on the brink. The film depicts a not-quite-postapocalyptic Australia, where gangs of high-octane galoots rove the roadways on motorbikes and souped-up muscle cars, attempting to outrun the last of the lead-footed policemen: Mel Gibson’s Max Rockatanksy. Revisiting the film is exceptionally rewarding—and not just because of the grit, oddball humor, and verve of Miller’s directing. It reflects something of the ambient tensions of a world of potentially perilous fuel shortages, which threatened the whole petrol-and-plastic framework of our modern world.

Miller recalls this era with no particular fondness. He remembers, in the mid-’70s, all of the gas stations in Melbourne shutting down. Save for one. The mood was sour. The tension was thick. “It only took 10 days,” Miller says, “in this very peaceful, benign city for the first gunshot to be fired. Someone got ahead of a long queue, that went on city blocks, to get fuel. If that could happen in just 10 days, what would happen in 100 days?”

Across five films, including the new Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, Miller’s franchise tracks this decline. In the original picture, the world is still fairly intact. There are diners and hospitals and happy families. People even dress more or less normally. It can feel a bit like our world: one which is collapsing but hasn’t yet totally buckled. By the time of 1982’s Mad Max 2 (released in the US as The Road Warrior), any vestiges of civilization have been blown away by an accelerated period of resource warring, nuclear conflict, and ecocide. Humanity survives in clans and roving bands, dressed in feathers and dusty leathers.

By 1985’s Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, civilization relies on bartering for commerce, harvesting pig shit for methane, and conflict resolution by way of gladiatorial combat. In the smash hit 2015 long-gap sequel, Mad Max: Fury Road (which recast Rockatanksy, putting Tom Hardy in the lead), things were almost cartoonishly bad: Fertile women were ferried across vast wastelands in tanker trucks, access to fresh water was hoarded by tyrannical dictators in skeleton half-masks, and all of humanity seemed to exist in a state of berserk, whooping madness. If that first film was warning—against the fetish for speed and power, against excessively extracting precious riches from a planet that could scarcely afford to give them up—the newer pictures feel not so much prescient as present: sado-comic visions of our own maddening, resource-starved world.

The Mad Max films are driven by a guiding incoherence. They offer a critique of car culture, resource scarcity, and the very things that may well have our world motoring toward its own demise, no matter how many EVs we buy. Denizens of the desolate wastelands exalt automobiles, motorbikes, engines, and especially gasoline as fetish objects. But at the same time, the films’ pleasures are guilty of this same exaltation. The thrills derive from high-octane racing, dangerous automobile maneuvers, body-mangling crashes, and the whole vroom-vroom of it all. They’re like war movies that ask us to thrill at the violence and daring of combat, while all the while muttering, “This is actually really awful, you know.” There is no effort to reconceive a world doomed by its pathological obsession with machines chugging on crude oil. Rather, the apocalyptic backdrop only furnishes fantasies of further decline.

Perhaps it’s a mistake to take films with characters called “Pig Killer,” “Rictus Erectus,” and “Pissboy” too seriously. But the Mad Max pictures underscore a deeper absurdity that undergirds the genre of postapocalyptic, ostensibly environmentalist (or at least environmentally sympathetic) entertainments that are often referred to as eco-fictions, or cli-fi, for “climate fiction.” “The climate crisis and grotesque climate inequalities are things that we are really struggling to process,” says Hunter Vaughan, an environmental media scholar at Cambridge University. “These films are touching on our collective inability to adapt to this crisis.”

Vaughan is the author of Hollywood’s Dirtiest Secret: The Hidden Environmental Cost of the Movies. His text analyzes the environmental impact of the film industry, from early Hollywood to the present. Understanding the industry as inherently (and devastatingly) resource-reliant, he has come to view the very idea of “environmentalist movies” as a bit of an absurdity. “Films like Mad Max and Avatar,” he explains, “are just doing what Hollywood has always done, which is rely on choreographed violence and the enticement of spectacle. But they get to offset that to some degree by coming across as having some sort of environmentalist message.”

The whole notion of “cli-fi” as a genre suggests something a bit ominous: that the well-meaning parables of early climate fiction have now become subservient to the demands of the genre. Take Denis Villeneuve’s Dune pictures. While perfectly competent as pricey pieces of blockbuster cinema, they barely engage with the novel’s ecological concerns. Author Frank Herbert was originally inspired by the historical ability of certain indigenous civilizations to live in harmony in even the harshest environments—a noble idea that, in the Hollywood version, takes a backseat to woolly ideas around interstellar jihad and the sheer pageantry of the proceedings. Likewise, Mad Max's original warning siren has waned a bit, as the films developed their own generic language. The collapsing world is now just a canvas across which (wildly entertaining) action scenes unfold.

However absurd it may seem to scholars, Miller seems to come by his environmentalist sympathies honestly. Even outside of the Mad Max movies, many of his pictures touch resonant themes about global warming (Happy Feet), vegetarianism (Babe and its sequel), and the essential destructiveness of the modern world (Three Thousand Years of Longing). These realities have directly impacted his films. Fury Road’s production was long delayed, in part, because the Australian desert where Miller planned to film was suddenly swamped—a direct result of unpredictable climate patterns. “I see it myself,” the director says of climate change. “It’s all around us. I’ve seen both the hard statistics, and just in my own experience. So it can’t help but seep into the story.”

Furiosa is unique among the Mad Max films in that it offers an alternative to the arid, violent, boiling wastelands that dominate the franchise’s topography. The origin story of Charlize Theron’s fierce road warrior from Fury Road, the film opens in “the Green Place”: an Edenic garden governed by a tribe of warrior-women, which stands out as a lush oasis in the desert. For Miller, Furiosa offered an opportunity to one-up himself. Fury Road proved he could make a hit Mad Max movie without Mel Gibson. Now, he hopes to show he can make another without Max (though he does appear, very briefly). “If you just do the same thing again and again, there’s hardly any point,” he says. “There’s an inherent cynicism to it.”

Snatched from safety, Furiosa (played by Ayla Browne as a child and Anya Taylor-Joy as an adult) is raised among a motorcycle death cult, led by the madman-prophet Dementus (Chris Hemsworth, sporting an impressive prosthetic schnoz). In time, she’s traded away to Immortan Joe, Fury Road’s big bad, and learns to survive and thrive among his clan of face-painted, aerosol-huffing cultists. Building out the world of Fury Road, Furiosa traces the fragile trade dynamics between three strongman leaders, each hoarding a key resource: fresh water, fuel, and bullets. As Furiosa navigates these violent trade routes, she hatches her own plan to avenge herself on Dementus and burn rubber back to the Green Place.

In actually bothering to imagine what some alternative to the wasteland might look like, Furiosa moves past the typically narrow horizons of most cli-fi. Nicole Seymour, who teaches environmental literature at California State University, Fullerton, notes that most environmentalist narratives stop short of actually conceiving of what a new, better world might look like. “I think that would require you to do more implicating, and more work,” she says, “which no one wants to do.” She notes that most utopian environmentalist literature tends to buck the mainstream, foregrounding more diverse characters. “Do they want to make a movie about a Puerto Rican transgender person who time-travels?” she asks. “I would watch that!”

There’s a shopworn quote attributed to the late critic and theorist Mark Fisher, about how “it's easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” Certainly, in the Mad Max movies, the basic systems that led to our destruction—resource hoarding, the primacy of tribal violence, the fetish for power and speed—remain intact. The sinister logic imparted to the audience is that, well, ecocide is inevitable, and so there’s little left to do than revel, laughing mad, in the explosive spectacle of our own destruction. To which an admirer of these films (like this writer) may sensibly, or cynically, respond: OK, sure … but what a spectacle.

For his part, Miller maintains that there’s a deep humanism at the core of these films, buried beneath the scrap heaps of twisted metal. “I’ve been to places where there is a lot of trauma and poverty,” he says. “I’m always impressed by the ability for survival. This is about our survival.”

[gutsofgold]

The sound of the Willows

a poem kinda

The sound of wind dancing through willows is such a beautiful sound, I think.

The sound of the spring creeping back in, waking the world up after winter.

The sound of the river rat swishing and swashing, bobbing along in his little blue boat,

The sound of the mole, digging himself up for the first time,

The sound of the otter pup squealing and playing, while her mother tries to keep up,

The sound of the squirrels, clutching eachother’s tails to stay together,

The sound of a life of domesticity is a kind sound, I think.

The sound of summer returning to warm us up is a nice sound, I think.

The sound of the swallows soaring through the sky, returning after their trip,

The sound of the toad experimenting the next high-octane craze,

The sound of the rabbits hurrying to keep up with his frivolity,

The sound of the family of hedgehogs, braving the main road,

The sound of the horse clopping about her day,

The sound of a brand new motorcar disturbing the peace,

The sound of a life of jubilation is a jolly one, I think.

The sound of autumn making itself known is a cosy one, I think.

The sound of the badger on his mission of life,

The sound of the weasels cackling from deep in the wild woods,

The sound of the fieldmice practicing their song so eagerly,

The sound of the stoats baring their teeth and claws,

The sound of the foxes, under the impression they're the picture of the upper-classes,

The sound of a life of mischief is a unique one, I think.

The sound of winter painting the windows with frost is a graceful one, I think.

The sound of the world falling asleep as the snow falls,

The sound of the wild ones living it up where the mighty had fallen,

The sound of the wassailers, spreading love as far as they can,

The sound of the blue tit, having been brought good cheer for the year,

The sound of a great escape, brought about by the toad!

The sound of the rat and the mole, finally taking time for gentleness,

The sound of family being found in the most unusual places,

The sound of a life of trust, is a very nice one indeed.

The sound of wind dancing through willows is such a beautiful sound, I think.