#but even i have to admit that they have some of the best writing in the whole book

[solxamber]

stay w me in this one, kiss cam w the first years 🙂‍↕

Kiss Cam with: The First Years

a/n; anon you brain is so big!! i got so happy??? when i saw this?? i kinda blacked out for a while and ended up writing it

Ace Trappola

The arena was packed, the air buzzing with energy as the Magift team dominated the field. You were sandwiched between Deuce and Ace, the latter chugging a soda while obnoxiously yelling at the players.

“Ace, they can’t hear you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he yelled, “PASS THE DISC, YOU IDIOT!”

“I don’t care! They need to know how bad they’re screwing up!” Ace shot back, waving his drink wildly.

Deuce leaned over, clearly mortified. “Can you not embarrass us in front of the whole school?”

Ace just smirked. “What? Embarrassed to be seen with your cooler, more handsome best friend?”

You snorted. “Handsome? In your dreams, Trappola.”

Ace turned to you, feigning offense. “Oh, so I’m not handsome? Guess I’ll have to let the kiss cam settle this one.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

As if the universe decided to spite you, the lights dimmed, and a giant heart frame appeared on the jumbotron.

You froze. “No. No way.”

Ace leaned forward, his grin turning devious. “Oh yes.”

Deuce, ever the supportive friend, burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “This is the best day of my life.”

Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “This has to be a mistake.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Come on, lovebirds! Don’t be shy! Show us some NRC spirit!”

“I’m going to die,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“Not without giving the people what they want,” Ace teased, turning to you with an exaggerated smirk. “Come on, for school pride.”

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. “Ace Trappola, I will—”

Before you could finish, Ace leaned in, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Relax. It’s just a little kiss, right?”

Your breath hitched. The crowd was chanting louder now, and your heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the embarrassment.

“Just a little kiss,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

And then it happened.

When his lips met yours, the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause. Time seemed to stop as the noise around you faded into a distant hum.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and the faint taste of soda lingered as he pulled back, his face flushed but grinning like an idiot.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You… You just kissed me!”

“You kissed me back,” he shot back, his grin widening.

Deuce, still laughing like a lunatic, clapped Ace on the back. “Congratulations, Trappola. You finally grew a pair.”

Ace turned to the jumbotron, where your kiss was being replayed in slow motion. “Man, we look good together,” he said smugly, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You shoved him, your face burning hotter than the sun. “Don’t push your luck.”

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Ace was insufferably smug, Deuce wouldn’t stop teasing you, and your heart refused to calm down.

As the crowd filed out of the arena, Ace caught your hand, stopping you just outside the gates.

“Hey,” he said, his usual grin replaced with something softer. “So, uh… about earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you. Like, a lot. And this is not just because of the kiss cam thing.”

You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Ace…”

“I mean, no pressure or anything!” he added quickly, his face turning red. “But, you know, if you did want to be more than friends, I wouldn’t mind…”

You smiled, stepping closer and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re such an idiot.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait—does that mean…?”

“It means yes, Ace,” you said, laughing. “But you better not let this go to your head.”

Ace grinned, grabbing your hand. “Too late.”

Spoiler: Ace tells everyone at school, and now half the campus thinks the kiss cam was staged. You’re stuck with him, but honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Deuce Spade

The stadium buzzed with excitement, the crowd alive with cheers as NRC's Magift team scored another point. You sat beside Deuce, who was yelling encouragement so earnestly you swore the players might actually hear him through sheer determination.

“Come on! You’ve got this! Pass it—yes!” he shouted, punching the air.

You couldn’t help but smile. Deuce’s enthusiasm was contagious, even if he had accidentally knocked over your popcorn in his excitement earlier.

“You’re going to lose your voice,” you teased, nudging his arm.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a grin. “This is important!”

What wasn’t important, however, was the dreaded kiss cam that appeared on the giant screen moments later.

The heart-shaped frame zoomed in on various couples, each one receiving cheers as they nervously or enthusiastically complied. You laughed, thinking nothing of it—until your own face appeared on the screen.

You froze. “Oh no.”

Deuce, oblivious, kept clapping until the heart frame zoomed out to reveal him beside you. His face turned crimson so fast you worried he might combust.

“W-What?!” he stammered, pointing at the screen as if denying its existence might make it disappear.

The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, the announcer’s voice booming. “Come on, lovebirds! Let’s see some NRC spirit!”

“Deuce, say something,” you hissed, your face burning.

“I—uh—I—” he stuttered, looking everywhere but at you. “They—uh—made a mistake! Right?!”

The announcer wasn’t letting up. “Looks like someone’s shy! Don’t leave us hanging!”

Deuce looked at you helplessly, his face a mix of panic and mortification. “I-I’m so sorry about this!”

You sighed, your own heart racing. “It’s fine, Deuce. Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on.”

He nearly choked. “A kiss?!”

“It’s not a marriage proposal!” you shot back, trying to keep your cool despite your own nerves.

He nodded frantically, visibly psyching himself up. “O-Okay! Let’s do this!”

Deuce leaned in slowly, his eyes shut so tightly you thought he might be praying for divine intervention. His lips brushed your cheek in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable before he pulled back like he’d just touched a live wire.

The crowd cheered wildly, but Deuce wasn’t done. In his panic, he’d miscalculated the kiss angle, and his forehead accidentally bumped yours as he pulled away.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” he asked, horrified.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nervousness melting away at his sheer awkwardness. “I’m fine, Deuce.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his hands hovering like he wanted to check for injuries.

You smiled and, feeling bold, leaned forward to kiss his cheek in return. The crowd’s cheers doubled, and Deuce looked at you like you’d just announced he’d won the lottery.

“Um,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “That was… uh… nice.”

You laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Deuce.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a kiss.”

Deuce spent the rest of the game sneaking glances at you, his face perpetually red. By the time the match ended, you were sure he’d worn a hole in the ground with all his nervous foot-tapping.

As the two of you walked back to the dorms, he finally cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I… I really like you.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Deuce—”

“I mean it!” he said quickly, his words tumbling out like he’d been holding them back for ages. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you, and the kiss cam just kind of—”

You cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, effectively silencing his rambling.

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, smiling at his stunned expression.

Deuce nodded, his face practically glowing. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Spoiler: Ace finds out and teases Deuce relentlessly, but Deuce doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class and holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack Howl

The stadium was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the stands as NRC's Magift team dominated the field. You sat beside Jack, who had insisted you attend because "It's good to support our school." Truthfully, you didn’t mind—watching the game with Jack was its own kind of fun.

He sat rigidly in his seat, tail swishing lightly as his sharp eyes tracked every play on the field. You chuckled at how serious he looked.

"Jack, relax. It's just a game," you teased.

"It's not just a game," he replied, his ears flicking. "This is about teamwork, discipline, and—"

He stopped mid-sentence when the crowd erupted in cheers. You both looked up to the big screen, only to see a giant pink heart frame around… you and Jack.

Cue Panic.

“Wait, what?!” you exclaimed, your face instantly heating up.

Jack’s ears flattened against his head as his eyes widened in sheer panic. “Oh no.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Looks like we’ve got a shy couple! Let’s hear it for them, folks!”

The crowd cheered louder, and you groaned. “Oh, come on…”

Jack was frozen in place, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His tail puffed up slightly as he asked, “They’ll move on, right? They’ll pick someone else?”

You glanced at the screen, seeing your own mortified expression reflected back at you. “Not unless we do something.”

Jack’s face turned impossibly red. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Jack,” you said, trying to suppress your own embarrassment. “A kiss. Just a small one! It’s no big deal.”

Jack looked at you like you’d just asked him to leap off a cliff. “I can’t! What if it’s weird? Or awkward? Or—”

“Jack,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just a game. Let’s get it over with.”

His ears twitched nervously as he nodded. “Okay. But, uh… where?”

“Where?” you repeated, confused.

“I mean, do I… your cheek? Your forehead? I—I don’t want to—”

“Jack!” you laughed, despite your own nerves. “Cheek is fine.”

He nodded again, his tail wagging nervously behind him as he leaned in. Just as his lips barely brushed your cheek, the crowd erupted in cheers—only for Jack to try to jerk back so fast that his forehead bumped yours.

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your head.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, panicking.

“I’m fine,” you said, trying not to laugh at his flustered expression. “But you might’ve just knocked me into next week.”

The announcer’s voice interrupted. “Let’s hear it for our lovebirds! What a show!”

You both sank further into your seats, faces burning. Jack mumbled an apology, looking like he wanted to crawl under the stadium.

“You know,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “You could’ve just kissed me properly.”

Jack froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “What?”

“Yeah,” you teased, grinning. “You’re already on the big screen. Might as well make it count.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his ears flicking nervously. Then, to your surprise, he leaned in again—this time more confidently—and pressed a quick, warm kiss to your lips.

The crowd lost it, cheering so loudly you could barely hear yourself think.

When Jack pulled back, his face was crimson, but there was a small, shy smile on his lips. “There. Was… was that okay?”

You smiled back, your heart racing. “More than okay.”

Jack spent the rest of the game sitting a little closer to you, his tail wagging uncontrollably. As you left the stadium, he finally cleared his throat.

“So… does this mean we’re—uh… dating?” he asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed, grabbing his hand. “What do you think?”

Jack’s tail wagged even harder. “I think I’m really lucky.”

Spoiler: Ace, Deuce and Epel find out later and tease Jack mercilessly, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class with his hand in yours.

Epel Felmier

The game was electric, with the crowd roaring as NRC held a narrow lead over RSA. You sat near the bench, cheering loudly for one player in particular. Epel was a blur of determination on the field, his every move brimming with adrenaline and a grit that made your heart race just watching him.

During halftime, the players jogged off the field to hydrate and strategize. Epel wiped the sweat from his brow and spotted you by the bench. You held up an electrolyte drink with a proud smile.

“Here, you earned it!” you said, handing him the bottle.

He accepted it with a quick grin, gulping it down like a man dying of thirst. “Thanks. Didja see that shot I made earlier?”

“I did!” you replied enthusiastically. “You’re playing amazing out there!”

Your encouragement had him standing a little taller, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and affection. “Well, I ain’t done yet. Gotta show those RSA guys what we’re made of.”

But before he could head back to the huddle, the crowd’s noise shifted. You both turned toward the massive screen above the field, where a familiar heart-shaped frame surrounded… the two of you.

Epel froze for a fraction of a second, his flushed face turning an even deeper shade of red. You stared at the screen in surprise, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Is that… the kiss cam?” you muttered.

Epel glanced back at his team’s huddle, where his teammates were laughing and giving him exaggerated thumbs-ups. The crowd began chanting, egging him on.

In that moment, with the adrenaline from the game still coursing through his veins and the giddy rush of your praise in his chest, Epel made a snap decision.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you—hard, fast, and with enough confidence to leave you absolutely stunned.

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles as Epel pulled back, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously. “Thanks for the drink,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down.

Then, with one last grin, he jogged back to his team, leaving you standing there, breathless and staring after him.

The rest of the game was a blur. Epel was on fire, scoring two more goals and securing the win for NRC. The crowd was ecstatic, the team celebrating wildly, but your mind was stuck on that kiss.

When the post-game frenzy finally settled, Epel approached you by the bleachers. He was still sweaty and flushed, but his usual nervousness was nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline from the game still seemed to fuel him as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Hey,” he started, his accent thick and his voice a little raspy. “About that kiss earlier…”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding. “What about it?”

Epel took a deep breath, his violet eyes locking onto yours. “I ain’t just kissin’ people for fun, ya know? I… I like you. A lot. And I’ve been wantin’ to say somethin’ for ages, but I didn’t know how. Guess the kiss cam kinda forced my hand.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his honesty. “So what are you saying, Epel?”

“I’m sayin’... would ya go out with me?” he asked, his cheeks turning red again.

You pretended to think for a moment, but the truth was, you already knew your answer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Epel’s face lit up, his grin wide and genuine. “Really?!”

“Really,” you said, laughing.

He fist-pumped the air triumphantly before quickly trying to play it cool. “Well, uh, that’s great. I’ll, uh, plan somethin’ nice, alright?”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, your smile as wide as his.

The kiss cam video was all over campus the next day, much to Epel’s embarrassment and your amusement. Still, neither of you could deny how it sparked something wonderful between you.

And yet, every time someone teased him about it, Epel would just grin and shrug. “What can I say? I go for what I want.”

Sebek Zigvolt

The Magift stadium was loud and lively, the crowd cheering wildly as NRC battled RSA in a fierce match. You sat next to Sebek, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Not for the game, mind you, but for the honor of cheering for his young master.

“Do you see that?!” Sebek shouted, practically jumping out of his seat. “The precision! The sheer grace! Lord Malleus is unmatched on the field!”

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, Sebek, I see it. You’ve mentioned it about... ten times now.”

“Only ten?!” He gasped, scandalized. “I must rectify this immediately—”

Before he could continue his speech, the crowd erupted into cheers. Confused, you looked up at the massive screen, only to freeze.

There, framed in a gigantic pink heart, were you and Sebek.

“What… what is this madness?!” Sebek’s voice boomed over the crowd noise, his face quickly turning beet red.

“It’s the kiss cam,” you explained, already feeling the heat creeping up your neck.

Sebek blinked at you, utterly baffled. “Kiss cam? What nonsense is this?!”

The announcer chimed in cheerfully. “Looks like we’ve got a lively one, folks! Give the crowd what they want!”

The audience clapped and whistled, clearly entertained by Sebek’s outburst. Meanwhile, you wished you could melt into the ground.

“Sebek, we’re on the big screen,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. “Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on!”

Sebek recoiled as if you’d suggested dueling Malleus. “What?! A kiss? In public? In front of—of all these people?”

“Yes!” you snapped. “It’s not that big of a deal!”

“But—! But—!” Sebek sputtered, his hands flailing in an uncharacteristically awkward display. “I cannot—this is—HOW DARE THEY IMPOSE SUCH A THING?"

The crowd was relentless, chanting louder as Sebek grew more flustered.

“Sebek,” you sighed, leaning closer to him. “If you don’t just do it, they’ll keep us up there forever.”

His eyes widened, darting between you and the screen. “I—fine! But only to end this nonsense!”

Sebek sat up stiffly, his face as red as his dorm uniform. Slowly, he leaned toward you… only to stop halfway, completely frozen.

“Sebek,” you whispered, trying not to laugh at his deer-in-headlights expression. “You’re overthinking it. Just a little peck.”

He shut his eyes tightly, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “For the honor of the young master.” Then, with the precision of someone about to execute a high-level spell, he leaned in and pressed the briefest kiss imaginable to your cheek.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Sebek immediately pulled back, clutching his chest like he’d just fought a dragon.

“Well, that was…” You paused, trying to find the right word. “Anticlimactic.”

Sebek glared at you, still blushing furiously. “What more do you want?! I have upheld this ridiculous tradition to the best of my ability!”

You smirked, leaning closer. “Oh, come on. You’re supposed to kiss me on the lips.”

“WHAT?!” Sebek practically shouted, earning another wave of laughter from the crowd.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you teased, leaning in just a bit more.

Sebek’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, but before you could follow through on your teasing threat, he surprised you by leaning in and kissing you properly.

It was quick and clumsy but sincere, and when he pulled back, the people sitting around you erupted into wild cheers.

Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to faint. “There. Are you satisfied now?!”

You laughed, touching your lips. “Actually, yeah. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

For the rest of the game, Sebek sat ramrod straight, refusing to look at you.

When the match ended and you both walked back to campus, he finally broke the silence. “That… that was purely for practical purposes!”

You grinned. “Sure, Sebek. Whatever you say.”

He glanced at you, his blush returning in full force. “It—it meant nothing!”

But the way his hand brushed against yours—and stayed there—told a very different story.

Masterlist

[mcrveilles]

just this once // ln4

HI WE'RE BACK - i'm having so much fun writing this. thank you for liking it and your encouragement.

word count: 2.1k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content, heartache, feelings of betrayal includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: the consequences hit hard

PART FIVE previous part - next part

The tension thickens, pressing down on your chest as Max’s words settle in the air between you. You glance at Lando, hoping he has some magic explanation, some way to fix this, but his jaw is set, his eyes locked on Max. His usual easy charm is nowhere to be found, and for the first time tonight, he looks genuinely shaken. Max crosses his arms, his sharp gaze moving between the two of you. "Well?" he presses, his voice growing louder. "Someone better start talking."

You take a shaky breath, your hands twisting together at your sides. “Max, it’s not like that,” you manage, though your voice wavers under the weight of his stare. “We weren’t sneaking around. I mean, not intentionally. It’s just…” You trail off, your words getting stuck in your throat. “Not intentionally?” Max repeats, his tone dripping with disbelief. “So what? It just accidentally happened?”

Lando steps in then, his voice calm but firm. “We didn’t plan this, Max. I swear. But… yeah, there’s something between us.” He glances at you, his expression softening before he looks back at Max. “It wasn’t something we wanted to hide from you. We just—”

“Wanted to keep it quiet until it suited you?” Max interrupts, his voice rising. “Do you even understand what this looks like? You, my best friend, going behind my back with my sister? And you—” He turns to you, his eyes filled with something between anger and betrayal. “You didn’t think to tell me? Not once?” You flinch at the accusation, guilt curling in your stomach. “I didn’t know how,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, congratulations,” Max snaps, throwing his hands in the air. “Mission failed.”

The words hit like a slap, and you blink back the sting of tears. Max has never spoken to you like this, never looked at you like this—like he doesn’t even recognize you. The hurt in his eyes is worse than the anger, and it makes your chest ache in a way you weren’t prepared for. “Max,” Lando says again, his tone softer now. “You’re my best mate. I never wanted to hurt you either. But…” He hesitates, like he’s searching for the right words. “I care about her. A lot. And if you can’t see that—”

“That’s the problem,” Max cuts in, his voice raw. “I do see it. I saw it tonight, clear as day. And maybe even before that, but I ignored it because I trusted you, Lando. I trusted both of you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. You can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you hold them back, refusing to break under the pressure of Max’s gaze. “I need some time,” Max finally says, his voice quieter now, but no less resolute. “To think. To figure out how I feel about all of this.” He takes a step back toward the door, pausing to look at Lando. “Don’t follow me. Either of you.” And with that, he turns and walks back inside, leaving you and Lando alone on the balcony once more. The sound of the party swells as the door shuts behind him, a stark contrast to the silence that settles between you.

Lando exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Well,” he mutters, “that went about as badly as it could’ve.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

He steps closer then, his hand brushing yours in a gesture that feels both apologetic and grounding. “We’ll fix this,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a determination that makes your chest tighten. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll fix it.” You nod, though you’re not sure that you believe him. The night feels heavier now, the spark of earlier completely snuffed out. But when Lando’s fingers lace with yours, you let yourself hold onto him—just for a moment—because even in the mess you’ve made, he’s the only thing that feels steady.

You pull your hand from his stepping back until the cool metal of the balcony railing presses against your spine. Lando’s brows knit together, confusion flashing across his face. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice careful, like he’s afraid you might shatter. But you already feel like you’re breaking. Your breath comes too fast, and your chest tightens as all the emotions swirling inside you—guilt, fear, frustration—bubble to the surface. “I can’t do this,” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “What do you mean?” His voice is steadier now, but you can see the cracks in his confident mask. He takes a step forward, and you immediately hold up a hand to stop him.

“I mean this.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “Us. Whatever this is. I can’t, Lando. I thought I could, but I can’t.” He stares at you, his jaw tightening. “Baby, don’t do this,” he says, his tone low but urgent, almost pleading. “I’m serious, Lando,” you say, hating the way your voice wavers. “Max hates me now. He hates you. And he has every right to. We were selfish, and we’ve ruined everything.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Lando says firmly, his hands falling to his sides. “He’s just upset. He needs time to process this, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” you say, your throat tightening, “but I can’t keep doing this with you, sneaking around, pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. It’s too much, Lando. I can’t handle it.” The hurt in his eyes is like a punch to the stomach, and you have to look away, focusing instead on the city lights below. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of traffic and the muffled music from inside the apartment. “You’re scared,” he says finally, his voice quieter now.

You laugh bitterly, though there’s no humor in it. “Of course I’m scared. I’m terrified, Lando. I’m terrified of hurting Max even more, of ruining what we had—what you and Max have. And I’m terrified of…” You trail off, biting your lip hard enough to hurt.

“Of what?” he presses gently, stepping closer despite your earlier protest. His voice is softer now, like he’s trying to coax the truth out of you.

“Of you,” you whisper, the words barely audible. “Of how much I feel when I’m with you. Of how I can’t seem to think straight when you’re around. It’s too much, Lando. You’re too much.” He doesn’t respond immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, heavy and suffocating. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an edge of vulnerability that makes your chest ache.

“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel about you,” he says. “And I’m not going to let you push me away just because you’re scared.”

“Lando—”

“No, let me finish,” he says, his tone firmer now. “I get it. You’re overwhelmed. So am I. But this? What we have? It’s real. And I’m not going to let you throw it away because you’re too afraid to fight for it.” His words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but deep down, you know he’s not. Still, the fear is stronger. It wraps around you like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs. “I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling. “I need to figure things out on my own.”

His face falls, and the sight nearly breaks you. But he nods, his jaw tight. “If that’s what you want,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” you say, though the words feel like a lie.

He steps back, his hands sliding into his pockets. For a moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Then he nods again, turns, and walks back inside without another word. You stay on the balcony, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the heat burning in your chest. And as the door clicks shut behind him, you realize just how much it hurts to push him away.

The second Lando steps away, a hollowness seeps into your chest, spreading fast and heavy like a lead weight. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but instead of soothing you, it amplifies the ache inside, making every breath sharp and uneven. You tell yourself this is for the best, that pushing him away was the right thing to do—for Max, for Lando, for yourself—but the words ring hollow.

Guilt churns in your stomach, twisting like a knife. Max’s face, the flash of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, replays in your mind like a haunting reel, over and over again. And then there’s Lando. The look he gave you before he turned away—raw, unguarded—feels like a scar you’ll carry for a long time. You hate that you put it there.

Your hands tremble as you grip the railing, the cold metal biting into your palms. Everything feels too much, too fast. You were supposed to keep things simple. One night. One moment. A slip you could explain away and move on from. But it’s become so much more, hasn’t it? And now, it’s spiraled into a mess you can’t seem to untangle.

The lump in your throat grows heavier, and your vision blurs as tears pool in your eyes. You don’t know if you’re angry, sad, or just exhausted—maybe all three. Angry at yourself for letting this happen, sad for the way things are unraveling, and exhausted from pretending you don’t care as much as you do.

And you do care. That’s the worst part. You care so much it’s terrifying. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment with Lando has carved its way into you, leaving marks you don’t know how to erase. And the thought of losing him—really losing him—hurts more than you want to admit.

But the fear is louder. Fear of what this could mean for Max, for your family, for your heart. Fear of stepping into something that feels so big, so overwhelming, it might swallow you whole.

So you stay rooted there, staring out at the city lights, wishing they could somehow illuminate the answers you so desperately need. But all they do is flicker and blur, leaving you just as lost as before.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The buzz of Silverstone is electric, a sea of orange and British flags waving wildly as engines roar to life. The atmosphere is alive, but you feel out of sync, moving through the paddock like a ghost. Max is there, but his smiles are subdued when it comes to you. He’s cheering forLando, though, still proud and supporting his best friend for his home race. Still, his excitement feels muted, his celebratory backslaps and grins somehow...limited and different. It’s like he’s drawing a line, one you’re not sure how to cross.

Lando keeps his distance too. You catch glimpses of him—a flash of his curls beneath his cap, the familiar set of his jaw as he talks to his engineers—but he never looks your way. You tell yourself it’s for the best, but it doesn’t stop the ache every time he passes.

When the race begins, you stand in the far back of his garage, heart pounding as Lando’s car tears through the track. Every overtake, every perfect turn has you holding your breath. You try not to think about the way things used to be—the way you’d celebrate together, no hesitation, no lines drawn in the sand. But you can’t help it. Because even with everything between you now, you’re still there, willing him to succeed.

When he crosses the finish line in P3, with Lewis winning the race, the roar of the crowd is deafening. You clap and cheer with the rest of them, smiling despite yourself as Lando lifts his trophy. Max is by your side in the crowd, grinning from ear to ear, but even his elation feels careful, like there’s something unsaid hanging between all of you.

Lando doesn’t look for you when he steps down from the podium. He’s swarmed by cameras and teammates, orange confetti raining down, but he doesn’t scan the crowd like he used to. And you? You stay on the sidelines, your pride for him tangled up in all the things you’re too scared to face.

tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop @weekendlusting @chezmardybum @isotopemylove @luvvcharxo

[purinfelix]

can i request hot cocoa + let you break my heart again + franco colapinto

perhaps the both of them are at some kind of gala/event/party for f1 with a mix of yearning maybe some mutual pining 🙈

one day ⊹ ࣪ ˖ - franco colapinto

w/c: 800 a/n: UGH this idea was just sooo scrumptious i loved writing it sm (and maybe got a bit carried away since this was supposed to be a blurb) BUT thanks bff hope u like <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

Stuffy formal events were something you thought you'd escaped by choosing a career in motorsport.

Little did you know, becoming an F1 driver meant signing up for a lifetime of them - a fact you were sourly reminded of when the annual gala rolled around, and despite it being your first, proved awful every step of the way. Somewhere in between the pretentiously tiny portion sizes and long, boring speeches, you found yourself growing more restless, desperate for an escape.

That's how you ended up here - leaving the toilet cubicle that had been your safe haven for the last half an hour, following a less-than-kind text from your pr manager demanding your return. As you washed your hands, your eyes glazed over your reflection in the ornate bathroom mirror. A small smile perked at the side of your mouth, satisfied with the job your stylist had done - even if the outfit she had chosen was suffocatingly tight and only added to your long list of nightly grievances.

Leaving the bathroom, you took in a deep breath, mentally preparing to sit through several more insufferable hours of this event.

"I was wondering where you went," came a voice from the other side of the hall, emerging from the men's bathroom. Looking up you locked onto a pair of green eyes, a coy expression on his face.

"Didn't think you'd notice in between all your flirting, Franco," you spat, though you couldn't stop yourself from offering a sly smile. You feel his eyes run over you, trying to maintain your composure as you feel your cheeks heat up under the weight of his gaze.

"You look good," he lets out, a little softly, almost like a confession. You're tempted to reply back with something snappy, though you stop yourself.

"You too." And you're not lying. In a black suit, cleanly pressed and fitted, he looks almost unrecognisable from the normal race weekend outfit. Though his deep brown curls, which you can tell his stylist has tried their best to tame, still fall carefreely onto his forehead.

He brushes a couple away as he lets out a shy laugh. "Well, it seemed a good time to clean up, hm?"

There's a moment of silence that seems to indicate that the two of you should return back to the event - but you don't. Neither of you move, just standing there looking at each other, almost daring the other to say something else. It's unlike the two of you since usually any space between you is filled with snarky comments and quick insults - the result of being two rookies from opposite teams, fighting to make a name for yourselves.

But sometimes you wish it weren't. Sometimes, in between the snide remarks and menacing stares, you think about how maybe if fate had favoured you just a little more, Franco might've been your teammate. And maybe, just maybe, you might've gotten along.

Though being 'rivals' meant being similar, even if you refused to admit it, and knowing each other deeply - on a level that being friends wouldn't come close to.

He reminds you of this fact when he pipes up again, hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. "I really don't want to go back in there," he confesses.

"Me neither," you sigh in agreeance, relieved he feels the same.

"It's just so-"

"Stuffy."

"Yes, exactly!" he replies, a thankful smile on his face, "plus, I feel like this tie is trying to strangle me."

"But I guess we have to go back, my media manager is going to be looking for me."

"Right," he says, looking down, "unless."

You quirk an eyebrow, intrigued at what he's implying. "Surely not."

"What are the chances of us actually being needed tonight, we're two rookies, it's not like they're going to give us any awards."

"You really haven't been listening in those media training lessons of yours, hm?"

"Oh, because you care so much about my image," he laughs, "c'mon let's get out of here, do something else, something that isn't so mind-numbingly boring." As he speaks, he brings a hand to his neck, loosening his tie, and you suck in a sharp breath as you watch him.

"Franco," you say softly, almost begging him not to make you make this decision.

"Fine, if you want to head back in there, be my guest, but I'm going." He turns around, giving you one last look, almost daring you to follow him with one eyebrow raised and the corner of his lips quirked up.

As he does you're struck by the feeling that maybe one day the two of you won't be posed as rivals, that maybe you might truly get along.

That maybe one day he won't have such a strong effect on you, that the way he looks at you won't make your heart flutter and brain stop as much as it does now.

But today isn't that day.

"Franco, wait," you call out, jogging up to him and letting out a defeated sigh, "where should we go?"

"Anywhere you want," he replies, looking at you with a smug yet endeared smile - almost as if he knew you'd join him all along.

taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[goingmerryfics]

HELLO!!! sorry if I request again because I really like how you write😔👊, I come with another request, something that I saw once in a fanfic and I loved the idea, it could be any other character you want but I see it more in Sanji (don't let it be obvious that I'm a Sanji lover HAHAH) well the issue is discovering that the character always carries with him a photo of gn!reader, whether it is a photo of them or the wanted poster of gn!reader

Carrying My Love With Me - Sanji, Shachi, Bartolomeo

Content: SFW, these boys are in love with you, strawhat reader in Barto’s, only Sanji’s is an explicit established relationship

Notes* Noooo please don’t apologize I love getting engagement :D and I finally get a prompt that I feel is perfect for my boy Barto!!

Sanji

Sanji is not shy at all about his picture of you that he keeps in his jacket pocket

He absolutely adores looking at you and your cute face, so when he has any excuse to pull that picture out, he does

He’ll use your photo to brag about you to other men all the time, claiming that you’re all his

That photo would always be in pristine condition, never letting anyone take it from him and making sure it doesn’t get destroyed after a battle

He would also pull it out anytime when he feels down, using your face as motivation in his dark times- even if it’s just him sulking over something

He takes out the photo while he’s cooking and sets it somewhere in sight. He talks to himself a lot as he cooks, so having your photo there makes him feel a little less silly

He promises your photo that he’s making this meal with love, and that he wishes he could share it with you

He does get a little embarrassed the next time he sees you and the crew rats on him about the photo, though

But after you’re reassurance that you think it’s sweet, he melts in your arms all over again, just like he always does

Shachi

What Shachi keeps with him is a picture of the two of you together

He hides it in his pillowcase, not wanting anyone to find it and make fun of him

He’s weirdly sensitive about the crew thinking he’s soft or something

But when you’re not around, it’s nice to have a piece of you nearby to hang onto

He pulls it out when he’s alone just to look at you- to study your eyes and the shape of your nose with a goofy little smile on his face

When people are around or he just wants to hold onto something while he’s lying down, he’ll put his arm into his pillow case and just hold onto the picture with his eyes closed, picturing you beside him, pretending he’s got you in his arms

Shachi is a romantic, he’s just too ashamed to admit it

The day Penguin is on laundry duty, he finds it and teases his friend relentlessly about it, holding it up in the dining hall and loudly proclaiming that he didn’t know his best friend had a girlfriend, and how could he not share this information?

A lot of chaos ensues, and after some teasing he snatches it back possessively

Bartolomeo

With you being a Strawhat, of course he’s got your wanted poster hung up in his room!

Luffy and his crew are his number one, and he loves Luffy, but you and him definitely had a special kind of relationship

Anytime you two meet, there’s always flirting involved

More from you than him, because he’s losing his mind with each compliment and sexual innuendo that comes out of your mouth

He didn’t expect that when he’d met you at first and went wild, swearing up and down that he’d do anything you asked just to hear your heavenly voice speaking like that again

So that picture is special to him, and he ends up fawning over it quite often- especially whenever he feels like he misses you

He rants to the crew all about how much he loves you to anyone that will lend him an ear (and to those who don’t, as well if there are anyone like that on the crew)

You make sure to sign it next time

[aventurineswife]

HELLOOOO, i was wondering:

A reader that likes watch anime, and some HSR characters gives them a try. But, what anime would you think they watch with the reader? Based on what they like or just something to start watching.

I LOVE YOUR WRITING STYLE, please don't overwork yourself a lot, have a nice day/night! <3

What Anime Would They Watch With You?

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Blade x Reader, Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Anime Watching, Humor, Lighthearted moments, Comfort and Bonding, Can be read Platonically or Romantically.

Warnings: Mentions of psychological trauma, Light spoilers for anime, Philosophical and existential themes, Violence and combat (in anime contexts), Emotional conflict, Mild language (?), Possible mild angst(?).

A/N: I don’t watch much anime, but my sister does, so I based the anime choices on what she’s watched and told me about, as well as clips I’ve seen on yt shorts 🫣😔 ALSO THANK YOU!! 🤭💖 I'LL TRY MY BEST HEHE

Aventurine stands in front of the TV, his eyes glinting with curiosity. His usual confidence is slightly tempered by the unfamiliarity of the moment — an evening of anime watching. He’s dressed in his usual stylish attire, the gold accents catching the light as he adjusts the remote with his gloved fingers. His gaze flickers to you, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"So," he begins, voice smooth like a well-played hand in poker, "what do we watch tonight? I suppose I should try something new. But, I must admit, I prefer shows with a bit of strategy — something that makes you think, perhaps a game of intellect or manipulation."

You suggest Death Note, the classic tale of the battle between genius minds.

Aventurine’s smile widens. “Ah, an excellent choice. A battle of wits, a contest of who can outsmart whom. Much like life itself. I must say, the intrigue here appeals to me. The protagonist, Light Yagami, reminds me of someone who knows how to play the game... and win.”

As the opening credits roll, Aventurine lounges back, his eyes gleaming with the same focus he applies to his work at IPC. The intricate web of psychological tension between Light and L unfolds in a way that mirrors his own thinking — everything calculated, every move deliberate. The darker twists intrigue him, and he often leans over to comment on Light’s strategy, or offer his own hypothetical alternatives. Every so often, he’ll pause to explain a parallel to a strategic investment move, his voice laced with a playfulness only you can appreciate.

The night is filled with insightful discussions, his enjoyment of the show evident not just in his words but in the way his eyes spark with intellectual thrill.

Ratio enters your living room, dressed in his usual academic attire, though he seems slightly more relaxed than usual. His hair is perfectly in place, and he adjusts his glasses, his piercing eyes scanning the shelves. He’s intrigued by the idea of anime, but like everything else, he believes it must meet the highest intellectual standards.

"I assume this will be a pursuit of knowledge, correct?" he asks, his tone indicating that he is less concerned with entertainment and more with what the anime can teach him.

You offer him Steins;Gate, a mind-bending tale of time travel and its implications. Ratio raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued.

"Time travel," he mutters. "The concept is fraught with paradoxes, theoretical inconsistencies... But let's see how this unfolds."

As the show progresses, you can tell Ratio is captivated. His usual dismissiveness towards “mediocre” content fades as he engages with the intricacies of the plot. He is particularly drawn to the scientific explanations of time travel, making insightful comments about the laws of causality. The intellectual depth of Steins;Gate resonates with him, and he begins to see the show as more than just entertainment but as an exploration of the human condition through the lens of scientific theory.

His stern exterior softens slightly as he leans forward, absorbed by the delicate unraveling of fate. At one point, he pauses the show to make an impassioned argument about the ethics of time travel, his eyes alight with the thrill of the debate.

Feixiao, in her usual battle-ready attire, steps into your space with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing slightly in skepticism. She’s not one for frivolous distractions, but she’s willing to give this anime thing a try — provided it’s something that involves action, strategy, and perhaps a little bit of inner conflict.

"You’d better not have picked something weak," she says with a smirk, her voice unwavering. "I don't have time for anything that isn't worthy of my attention."

You suggest Attack on Titan, with its intense battles and deep emotional conflicts. Feixiao grunts in approval.

"Alright, let’s see if they can deliver on the carnage." she says, as the opening scene plays out.

She’s immediately absorbed by the ferocity of the Titans and the desperation of humanity’s fight for survival. The battles, filled with adrenaline and relentless pursuit, mirror the kinds of conflicts she knows too well. She’s particularly drawn to Eren Yeager’s inner struggles — the deep rage that simmers beneath his resolve.

"That’s what I like to see," Feixiao mutters under her breath, her eyes flashing with approval as the protagonists fight with everything they have. "There’s more to these battles than just the physical; there’s emotion, too. A warrior’s mind is as sharp as their blade."

Throughout the night, she becomes invested in the character dynamics, especially Eren’s moral dilemmas. The show's dark tone and brutal honesty about the human condition resonate with her, and she even offers some commentary on the combat strategies used by the soldiers.

By the end of the night, she’s hooked, her face flushed with the excitement of both the action and the emotional weight of the series.

Blade steps into the room, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity, his demeanor as cold as the blade he wields. His mind constantly in turmoil, he’s not interested in frivolous entertainment. Everything he watches must speak to the darker aspects of his soul, and anything too light-hearted will not hold his attention.

You offer Neon Genesis Evangelion, a psychological and emotional rollercoaster that digs into the deep recesses of human existence. Blade’s expression is unreadable as he nods and sits, his eyes steely.

The first few episodes grip him, and soon he is fixated on Shinji Ikari’s inner torment — the crippling isolation, the struggle to find meaning in a world that seems bent on destruction. Blade sees pieces of himself in Shinji, his own existential struggle reflected on screen. He finds an unexpected resonance with the show's depiction of personal battles and the search for purpose in and the search for purpose in an uncaring world.

As the show delves into its more abstract and psychological themes, Blade’s face hardens in contemplation. He doesn’t speak much, but his occasional glances at you tell you everything you need to know — Neon Genesis Evangelion is more than just an anime to him; it’s a mirror to his own fractured soul.

By the end of the night, Blade is silent, lost in thought, the weight of the show's philosophical questions lingering in his mind.

Kafka strolls into the room with her usual cool confidence, adjusting her black jacket over her shoulders. Her hair sways slightly as she surveys the situation. While she doesn’t often indulge in entertainment, she’s intrigued by your suggestion to watch anime together. After all, there’s something elegant about the concept of using subtlety and manipulation to achieve one's ends, and Kafka is drawn to that kind of intrigue.

You offer Code Geass, a series filled with strategic battles, hidden motives, and complex characters. Kafka smirks, her interest piqued.

"This might be interesting. Let’s see if it lives up to the hype." she says, her voice smooth and measured.

As the episodes unfold, Kafka finds herself charmed by Lelouch vi Britannia’s calculating nature and his ability to manipulate others for his own purposes. She’s drawn to the layers of deception, the way Lelouch maneuvers through the world with his intelligence and charisma, much like herself.

"Ah, this is the kind of show I can appreciate," Kafka remarks, glancing at you with a knowing smile. "Power lies not in brute strength, but in the subtleties of the mind. Lelouch truly knows how to play the game."

By the end of the night, Kafka is hooked, her mind racing with the complex political strategies and moral questions the show raises. Her admiration for Lelouch’s ability to control events through sheer willpower is clear.

Silver Wolf lounges in her seat, her purple glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She’s always up for a challenge, and if anime is as much of a game as you say, then she’s ready to dive in. She’s looking for something that’s both fast-paced and unpredictable, a true test of her adaptability.

You suggest Psycho-Pass, a futuristic series that blends action with deep psychological exploration and questions about the nature of justice. Silver Wolf’s eyes light up as the opening credits roll.

"Alright, this looks fun," she remarks, her fingers tapping on her leg like she’s already hacking her way through the plot. "A system that reads people's intentions? Sounds like a game I could win."

As the series progresses, Silver Wolf becomes engrossed in the moral and psychological dilemmas the characters face. She’s particularly drawn to the futuristic technology, intrigued by the interplay between the systems that control society and the human minds that try to outwit them.

"I could hack my way through this world in no time." she chuckles to herself, but she’s also genuinely captivated by the philosophical questions raised. What is justice? Who decides what is right or wrong?

By the end of the night, Silver Wolf is already planning her next anime binge, eager to see what other “games” the world of anime has to offer.

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

my tags wasn't enough, i had more than 30 tags worth of things to say about worldbuilding and food (feel free to read said tags in past reblog, aka it's this post's "previous tags" which hopefully you know the process to get to that) but i will restrain myself of truly babbling as much as i really want — for instead the following:

i will repeat that worldbuilding = culture, and culture = food, what are meals here, how many meals are here, where do the ingredients come from, how does seasons impact what you can eat, what do they eat for birthdays, etc + clothes, what silhouettes and types of fashion are here, where do they get these outfits' materials (livestock? plants? dyes?), what special occasion outfits are there or is there any regalia to occupation/type of dancing/age/etc, how do outfits change with seasons + so on and so forth

here is a great youtuber who has a playlist analyzing world-building, and it can include things like food. my favorite video from this playlist is for the show "Ascendance of a Bookworm" (yes, the playlist is linked as part of this video btw) which does specifically go into food (as do other videos within said 10-video-long playlist. another video within the playlist is "Dungeon Meshi" which is very much about food). please watch as much of the playlist as you like! another video of his about worldbuilding, that is not in this playlist, is about "Castle In The Sky"'s worldbuilding as shown in that intro-instrumental bit of the film specifically (a movie my brain farted and called "Nausicaä: Valley Of The Wind" in my tags before, iGNORE THAT)

and here is another great youtuber. his entire channel is largely about "how to write" and various aspects of worldbuilding. but i do want to mention that this conversation is biased towards Hard Worldbuilding, evidentally, and he has some videos that are in support of softer worldbuilding too (which, my memory could be off, but i dont think he gets into food often? but an example of Soft Worldbuilding and food would be how idk how the fuck Chihiro/the spirits has access to food in "Spirited Away", they just kind of begin and end with a vague ✨️magic food✨️ vibe about how these are meals for the dead, but the soft worldbuilding there not including how they source this food is not bad worldbuilding at all). it's best, in terms of mind-set, to have different types of worldbuilding for different projects in my opinion

In Defense of Soft Magic Systems

Hard Worldbuilding vs. Soft Worldbuilding | A Study of Studio Ghibli

and this is in regards to stories outside of fantasy period-pieces as well. like, "Coraline" for example is VERY fascinating to analyze in respects to food. both what Coraline eats, what the Other Mother eats (or rather doesn't eat), what the Other Father eats (he is starving, always), what foods are available to who and when; and that is a story that takes place in modern-day and has some pretty restrained fantasty elements as part of the Other Mother's powers and whatnot

but even things like "this character never cooks, only orders out or eats other people's homemade food or eats leftovers" can say a lot about the individual (doesn't take good care of themself, or doesn't have the time or energy to, may have been neglected as a child from learning this life-skill, could be a lot of reasons why they can't cook), even if the character themself is from a culture that has a rich history with food

i will admit some cultures have a more restrained history with food, like Indigenous Americans' intertribal culture (which, hi, hello, i am one such Indigenous American) has a semi-strained, semi-loving relationship with frybread. bc it's not a "cultural"-food, it's a survival food. it's a food that was invented bc people were starving, forced into bottlenecks of limited, unfamiliar ingredients due to us being forced into reservations and militant forces not allowing us access to trade for other ingredients on these lands that yielded poor crops and limited to no livestock. as a result, frybread is super unhealthy. (though some Indigenous American chefs have worked to make healthier varieties now) but also frybread is a cheap, easy food to make that celebrates that we survived a time when people tried to kill us via starvation, but it also is a symbol of said starvation attempt as it was a food that was only created to help its people survive rather than as an expression of culture. hence, a relationship with a piece of food that is semi-strained, semi-loving. so that is an irl example of how food can be a cultural yet not-cultural yet also a history-informing item

so, if you want to read me praising the fuck out of Hard Worldbuilding including meals and how the implications even of something as simple as "this culture eats lots of beef" can be unfolded, read my past reblog's notes. but also, Studio Ghibli does really Soft Worldbuilding masterfully, and also mentions food here and there throughout their films, while not always explaining where it comes from (i think "Howl's Moving Castle" is one such example, as Sophie goes to a market to buy food for said moving castle's residents at one point. but, again, where the spirits import food (besides pigs, i guess) into the bathhouse for its workers, guests, and Chihiro to eat is beyond me). and neither worldbuilding method is superior than the other, i just have more to say about the One That Inherently Requires More Self-Questioning than the other, evidently. but food is an excellent way to show, not only culture (or survival) within said worldbuilding, but an individual's personality (eg. the Can't Cook aforementioned example), relationships (eg. aforementioned "Coraline" example), or emotional state (eg. in "Spirited Away", when Chihiro cries while eating her food because it's the first moment she has been able to safely process what has been happening to her, and the food tastes so good and was a kind gift, and she us just so overwhelmed and sad), and so much more

i think, overall, it is best to have stuff match. as in, if you have a hard magic-system, then you probably should map out and source your food in similar levels of detail for your own reference, even if it may never show in the narrative, just so you can be consistent. and then, if you have a soft magic-system, it'd be wise to have a similarly soft worldbuilding relationship with food. your audience expects hard worldbuilding with hard magic-system, and soft worldbuilding with soft magic-systems. i cant think off the top of my head of any examples where we get a juxtaposition of hard/soft that ends up with a well-polished story audiences love. and if you dont have a magic-system for the worldbuilding to reflect, then have the worldbuilding reflect similarly to what your story does examine. like, "Pulp Fiction" is soft towards what is in the suitcase, and similarly has a soft worldbuilding and explatory attitude towards its cast of characters, and it's also pretty soft about what the characters eat and drink being sourced from where (the most famous is probably the coffee lol), which fits as it's in contemporary LA and you assume most food there comes from similar places as your food does irl but no one knows for sure, but there's still an interesting relationship to food to follow within this film and whatnot

edit: i finally thought of a story that does a mix of Hard as well as Soft Worldbuilding, and luckily enough the example includes food in its story and that would be "Over The Garden Wall" (spoilers ahead). it has a ridiculously heavy amount of research put into it, from the fashion and architecture to the very doorknobs, and it does both explain and not explain its world as the Unknown is both real and not as it was a type of limbo of "Dante's Inferno" that Greg and Wirt experienced when they were almost drowned to death. it is the only story i can think of where arguably what happened within it was "just a dream" yet that ending doesn't make people unhappy this time around; i think because there is a real feeling of "they could've died if they didn't escape the Unknown, so the stakes were real, they had an arc, this story still matters". and, to me, i think the Hard Worldbuilding is the reality within the world— like the fashions, doorknobs, Wirt and Greg's hometown, as we later see evidence of characters in the Unknown having tombstones and the like in the Wirt and Greg's hometown, there is pieces of reality that carried over beyond death and into the Unknown— whereas the Soft Worldbuilding was the fantastical elements, like the anthromorphic animals, Adelaide's magic, the bluejay curse, the Beast, the pumpkins and skeletons, the lantern, and so on that do not have a real-life equivalent. and one thing that does have a real life equivalent is food, almost all the food in this show is real, even if i wouldnt personally wish potatoes and molasses on my worst enemy. i'll sooner slurp a turtle, like the dog and Auntie Whispers. but also Endicott's food and the tavern food looks so good. but, yeah, we really don't know anything about where these real-life meals are sourced other than that they are real foods you could theoretically make yourself (like Endicott is not eating mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, and some kind of sliced meat like ham), but the one fantasy meal that is those turtles has soooo much mystery surrounding them that it is nigh-infamous how much the creator dodges questions about those lil turts lol so!! if you do want to mix Hard and Soft Worldbuilding, just do so thoughtfully and have there be a consistent and clear line. for OTGW, that's putting a ton of hard-research into real-life, historic equivalents within the Unknown to Wirt and Greg's hometown juxtaposed with extremely soft fantasy elements of the Unknown unexplained as there is no magical equivalent in Wirt and Greg's hometown. consistency, consistency, indeed lol

anyway, hope the free resources help ✌️ thanks for letting me yap about why you should let your characters eat and also maybe pay attention to what they eat lol

Is this anything

[aayakashii]

continuing the headcanon that @str8upjorkinit created with a few more houses, since some people asked for it (will post the other houses later I promise!)

Hotarubi and Mortkranken with a S/O that loves to carry them around (with pictures ?!)

Subaru

Turns into a tomato immediately

Apologizes for being carried as if you're not the one that decided to carry him in the first place!!!!

Tries SO hard to think of reasons why you should not be holding him like that, but his mind is just a blue screen at this point

Subaru tried the best he could not to entertain his little crush on you but you really went there and made it impossible 😔

He'll never say it (because he always thinks he's being inconvenient), but he loves when you carry him whenever he's anxious or overwhelmed

You're kinda like his personal weighted blanket and he loves it

Still apologizes constantly, even after you two have settled this into your routine... time to hold him even tighter to maybe squeeze the insecurities away!

Subaru when you first began holding him vs Subaru after getting KINDA used to you holding him

Haku

Oh he's sooooooo into this

It's a wonder you don't drop him at your feet when he starts flirting with you right away

AND your face is so close to his? He hit jackpot, baby!

Expect him laying his head on your shoulder and flirting shamelessly just to see you getting flustered

It's not like he's not affected though!

He has the wildest butterflies fluttering in his stomach when you hold him so tightly and so close, literally sweeping him off his feet

After a while, you get used to his teasing, so he just enjoys his time on your arms.

If he ends up taking his afternoon nap on your lap, you can't blame him 🫵‼️ you did put him in the moat comfortable place ever (your arms)

Haku while he's flirting with you vs Haku when he relaxes and naps in your arms

Zenji

HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

In fact, speaking of Time of My Life, you know that old movie, Dirty Dancing? If you can lift Zenji, he Will be forcing you to do the whole choreography with him

and you WILL be taking Patrick Swayze's role because he wants to be the girl who's lifted

Obviously he's excited you can lift him since he's HUGE but in his mind he's just like....... of course you can lift him!!! It's YOU after all!!!

You literally can do anything in his mind. No wonder you're his second favorite person, only behind his little brother.

He feels like a little damsel in distress whenever you carry him in his arms and he loves it, even starts writing more stories with this theme since he's so inspired

Loves it so much that he kinda expects you to do it everyday

Sending thoughts and prayers for your back

Zenji when you showed him you could lift him vs you after the 1000th time he asked you to carry him

Yuri

CAPITAL H HORRIFIEDDDDDD

Yells "PUT ME DOWN, WORM" like a thousand times

The other students start asking for you to please just put him down so they can work in peace

Because he won't stop yelling and distracting everyone with how dramatic he is

You're having way too much fun though, seeing how he turns the deepest shade of red ever and stutters nonstop about you being insane

He will never not complain whenever you hold him in your arms, but, after a while, he kinda gets used to it

Says it's just a symptom of your derangement and that no medicine seems to fix it 😔 how tragic

To be honest, he kinda likes it a little bit... especially the way he can see your face and your smile from up close... but he'll never ever admit it to himself, much less to you

Yuri when you carried him for the first time vs Yuri after he resigned himself and accepted that you Will carry him no matter what

Jiro

10000% doesn't mind

He is, however, a bit surprised that you can actually lift him up (after a little bit of struggle since he's the biggest ghoul after all

He thinks it's a little bit funny how you made it a matter of honor to carry him without struggle (which you manage after a while)

Whenever you get spooked and he (sadistically) laughs at your reactions, he allows you to carry him as some sort of peace offering

Jiro used to resist being carried whenever he got sick. His habit of just enduring it by himself for as long as he could was a bit hard to break

Much to his surprise, however, being able to "relax" in your arms as you take him back to Mortkranken made his sudden bouts of sickness less harrowing

Still thinks it's a little bit amusing how silly you look so focused, carrying someone double your size. He can get used to it as well, though

Literally just Jiro. Jiro vibing as you carry him. He will always just be vibing.

[tossawary]

Recent "Star Trek" reboot universes have really tried to sell me on three different romances for Spock with other TOS characters whom he did not have romantic relationships (at least not positive ones) with in TOS, which makes it particularly annoying when some fans try to squirm away from the idea of ST ever doing a future reboot or remake in which Spock/Kirk are explicitly queer.

Like, "But it's not in the original! They want to be faithful to the original!" really, REALLY does not pass the "I think you might just be discomforted by queerness and you should work on that, rather than making appeals to the authority of textual accuracy to avoid being called a homophobe or transphobe" check here. Because it's not as though these reboots care about perfect faithfulness on pretty much any other front. We'll accept that the costumes and special effects get updated to move with the times, we'll accept wildly different characterization choices that essentially give these characters new personalities, we'll accept new timelines that change the entire political map of the galaxy, but you as a fan draw the line at "What if this character was bisexual this time?" Really???

To be clear, I am not trying to dunk on Spock/Uhura, Spock/Chapel, or Spock/T'Pring here, I am merely trying to illustrate a frustrating double-standard. TOS Uhura does notably flirt with Spock several times! I see it! I remember TOS Chapel's feelings for Spock being one-sided, but I also don't think it's a bad thing to try to update TOS's more misogynistic writing choices regarding female characters. TOS T'Pring did... kind of try to kill Spock because she didn't want to marry him, but again, I don't necessarily think it's immediately a bad thing to try to explore her as a character and her betrothal to Spock. It's fine! It's fine by me to explore new takes in new AUs.

It's just that none of that evidence from TOS for those relationships holds much of a candle to whatever the fuck Kirk and Spock had going on to inspire The Premise. "Amok Time" is an Experience. There's only so many times that Kirk can say something like, "The cost [of abandoning Spock] would have been my soul," before you want to put your face in your hands. They are taking shiny pebbles from TOS and trying their very best to sell them to me as the basis for romantic relationships in reboots, sure, while they are standing in the shadow of Spirk Evidence Mountain (TOS).

(Yes, I have seen the recent "Unification" short film. Yes, I enjoyed it. No, I will not consider Spirk "officially canon" until all plausible deniability for the squirmy folks has been completely, explicitly destroyed by a HUMAN kiss onscreen.)

And okay, I must admit, at the moment, I don't actually want Spirk to eventually happen in "Strange New Worlds" now that they've finally met. I'm mostly indifferent to their Spock and Kirk actors, personally, and the writing for every canonical romantic relationship in both SNW and "Discovery" so far has gotten a solid "well, they certainly are standing next to each other" from me. (Yes, even the gay marriage in "Discovery". I just haven't been into it so far.) I think the writers would fumble Spirk if they tried it in this specific show and then annoying fans would use the fumble as "evidence" never to try to do Spirk or queer retakes on other TOS characters ever again, or as "proof" against other queer ST in other shows characters generally.

I'm mostly just mildly annoyed that I have to keep watching Spock specifically, famously read by many people as a queer man, be straight and messy about it, especially when there has not really been another significant queer relationship onscreen in SNW, unless you count M'Benga's daughter Rukiya and her glow cloud friend named Debra, which I personally don't, honestly. There's definitely nothing yet that comes remotely close to the screentime that Spock/Chapel, Spock/T'Pring, and Kirk/La'an have all been given so far, unfortunately. (Sulu is not here yet. Scotty has just shown up. If Scotty gets to make out with a guy next season, or Uhura or Ortegas gets to make out with a lady, without it being part of some god-like-being's fantasy world, then I may be satisfied.) (Also, yes, I am aware of queer characters and relationships in other "Star Trek" shows, thanks. I very much enjoyed Mariner having her incredibly silly breakup with her girlfriend in "Lower Decks".)

"Star Trek" is one of those properties where some people's double-standards regarding romantic interpretations of the original series really jump out. "They can't do Kirk/Spock because they want to be faithful to the original!" Get real.

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (8)

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: 3.7k

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: tensionnnn, seokjin (you'll see why)

A/N: literally fell in love with this jugnkook as i was writing this chapter. something abt him makes my heart flutter like why don't i have a man like this. AHHHH is the chemistry chemistrying for you guys? let me know your thoughts hehehehe.

part 8: when the camellia revs

The fairgrounds buzz with life as preparations continue, but you manage to steal a quiet moment under the shade of an old oak tree. The wooden bench you share with Sunjae feels like a small oasis amidst the hustle. Around you, the rhythmic sounds of hammering, laughter, and the shuffle of footsteps continue. Yet here, with Sunjae beside you, it feels as though time slows down.

A mischievous glint sparks in your eyes as you nudge him lightly. “So…” you begin, dragging the word out, savoring the way his ears turn pink before you’ve even finished the sentence. “How’s the boyfriend?” you giggle.

Sunjae tries to mask his shyness, but it’s a futile effort. He rubs the back of his neck, his smile growing wider by the second. “Yeonjun’s great." he admits, his voice soft but brimming with affection.

“We moved in together recently, and honestly? It’s been... perfect. He’s been crazy busy with work, but he still does these little things, you know? Leaves notes in my lunchbox, surprises me with flowers. The other day, he even cooked me dinner because I was too tired. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, unable to hide his smile.

Your heart warms at his words. Seeing Sunjae so smitten makes your chest swell with pride and happiness for your best friend. “Oh, please.” you scoff, grinning. “You deserve every ounce of that happiness and so much more. If anyone’s lucky, it’s Yeonjun for having you.” you admit.

Sunjae chuckles, the light in his eyes undeniable. “You always know what to say to make me feel like I’m not completely fumbling through life.” As he speaks, he paints vivid pictures of their life together... how they met at a seminar, how Yeonjun’s attempts at karaoke had sealed the deal, and their shared dream of opening a quaint café someday. You can’t help but smile at his happiness, the way his words pour out like a gentle stream.

“You look well.” you say once he finishes, your voice soft but sincere. “I'm so happy for you, Jae.” you comment and he smiles at the nickname. It feels like he hasn't heard that in ages.

He beams at you, his grin infectious. “I could say the same for you, Y/n. You look… peaceful. I'm guessing your business is doing well, huh?” Before you can reply, an enthusiastic voice interrupts.

“Sunjae? No way!”

You glance up to see Taehyung striding towards you, his wide grin lighting up his face. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Juwon follow close behind, all breaking into delighted smiles at the sight of your old friend.

“Still stealing Y/n’s time, huh?” Taehyung teases, pulling Sunjae into a warm hug. “Some things never change.” Sunjae shrugs as he pulls away, looking towards the others.

The bench becomes a hub of lively chatter as introductions, laughter, and playful jabs fly around. Though Sunjae had grown closer to you over the years, his bond with your group remained intact, and their warmth feels as natural as breathing.

//

The next day dawns with a golden hue spilling across the horizon, but the calm of the morning doesn’t last long. As the sun rises higher, the town square transforms into a hive of activity, buzzing with a sense of urgency. The fair is just a day away, and it seems like everyone is working double-time to ensure everything is perfect.

Vendors rush to set up their stalls, the sound of hammers striking nails mingling with the rustle of fabric as colorful banners and canopies are hoisted into place. Children dart around, their laughter piercing through the air as they weave between workers. Volunteers carry boxes of supplies, their voices blending into a symphony of instructions, encouragement, and occasional exasperation.

You’re busier than ever, balancing tasks between your flower shop and the fair. Deliveries need to be organized, decorations have to be finalized, and last-minute adjustments seem to crop up at every corner. Even as you wipe the sweat from your brow, there’s a sense of exhilaration in the air, the anticipation of tomorrow’s festivities driving everyone forward.

Sunjae is bustling around too, overseeing the setup of a handmade crafts stall he’s managing. Every now and then, he glances your way, offering a quick thumbs-up or a smile, his own excitement mirrored in your expressions.

By mid-morning, your friends have gathered to help where ever they can. Namjoon is reviewing schedules, his meticulous nature ensuring no detail is overlooked.

Seokjin is joking with some of the younger volunteers, lightening the mood despite the frenzy. Juwon is coordinating with the food vendors, her authoritative tone cutting through the chatter, while Taehyung flits between tasks, his energy boundless.

And then there’s Jungkook.

You catch glimpses of him every now and then, his leather jacket swapped for a simple black tee, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed arm as he unloads heavy crates. The sight of it snaps something inside you and you have to look away to collect yourself.

He works silently but efficiently, his brows furrowed in concentration. Despite the chaos around him, he carries an air of calm focus that you can’t help but notice.

Occasionally, your eyes meet across the crowded square. Each time, it’s fleeting, just a moment before one of you looks away, but it’s enough to send a ripple of something unspoken through the air.

The hours blur together as the sun climbs higher. Despite the hectic pace, there’s a shared unity among the volunteers, an understanding that they’re all working towards something meaningful.

By late afternoon, the square is almost unrecognizable, transformed into a vibrant space brimming with life and color.

But as you glance at the clock, you know there’s still more to be done. The final stretch is here, and tomorrow, the town will come alive in a way that makes all the effort worthwhile.

For now, you push forward, the excitement bubbling beneath the surface, ready to see it all come to life.

//

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the fairgrounds, Mr. Jung’s voice booms from the gazebo. “Everyone! Can I have your attention?” he calls, clapping his hands. The volunteers pause their work, turning to face him.

“To thank all of you for your hard work, we’re hosting a little barbecue right here tonight." Mr. Jung announces, his smile wide. “Consider it a token of our appreciation. You’ve earned it!”

A ripple of cheers and applause follows, and your friends exchange gleeful glances. “Free food?” Seokjin exclaims, clutching his chest as if overwhelmed. “It’s a dream come true.”

“I’m claiming the first plate!” Juwon declares, practically bouncing on her toes. “Not if I get there first,” Taehyung counters, already sprinting toward the gazebo.

The group bursts into laughter, following him in a loose, carefree parade. The atmosphere is electric, buzzing with excitement for the evening ahead. After days of hard work, this feels like the perfect way to unwind... a celebration of effort, friendship, and shared memories.

As the preparations wind down and the golden hour fades into twilight, the barbecue at the gazebo comes alive. Bright fairy lights strung around the wooden structure cast a warm glow over the gathering, making the evening feel almost magical.

The air is filled with the enticing aroma of grilled meat and roasted vegetables, mingling with the faint scent of flowers still lingering from the day’s decorations.

You find yourself seated on the cool grass with Sunjae and your friends, the laughter and chatter creating a cozy bubble around you. Plates of food are passed around as everyone digs in, their voices blending with the soft strumming of a guitar someone brought along.

Namjoon is in the middle of telling a ridiculous story about one of his childhood escapades, which has Seokjin doubling over with laughter while Taehyung and Juwon argue about its authenticity.

The atmosphere is laid-back yet so so rewarding, just a close-knit group of volunteers unwinding after days of hard work. It’s one of those rare moments when you feel completely at peace.

Sunjae leans back beside you, his head tilted towards the sky as he points out a constellation he learned from Yeonjun. His excitement makes you smile, and you can’t help but feel immense joy for your best friend, who seems to have found his place and love in this world.

But amidst the relaxing chaos, there’s a tension simmering not far from where you sit. Jungkook has arrived with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin, finally all done with their work for tomorrow.

The group makes their way to the grill, exchanging greetings and grabbing plates of food. Jungkook, however, doesn’t linger with his friends. His gaze immediately shifts to you, sitting closely with Sunjae, the man whose name he had just learned, as both of you laugh together.

His jaw tightens as he observes you leaning towards Sunjae, smiling so brightly it feels like the world revolves around you in that moment. And the man beside you... the same one from earlier who’d already occupied far too much of your attention is the cause of that smile. Jungkook feels his grip on his plate tighten, the urge to look away battling with the undeniable pull of watching you.

Throughout the evening, he steals glances at you. It’s infuriating how effortlessly you seem to light up the space around you. You laugh, tease Taehyung about his mismatched socks, and playfully swat Sunjae’s arm when he mimics Seokjin’s dramatic storytelling. Each stolen glance chips away at Jungkook’s resolve to keep his distance, leaving him restless.

As the night deepens, the cool evening breeze carries with it a sense of tranquility. The gazebo grows quieter, with fewer people remaining. Mrs. Kim, an elderly woman who’s been a pillar of the town’s volunteer efforts for years, approaches you with a soft smile.

“Y/n-ah, can you please fill my water bottle for me? They seem to have run out of water here, and I need to take my medicines now that I’ve eaten.” she says, holding out the bottle. “Your shop is nearby, so I thought I’d ask.”

You nod immediately, rising to your feet. “Of course, Mrs. Kim. I’ll be right back.” you reply warmly, taking the bottle from her. Your shop, just a few meters away from the gazebo, is still illuminated from earlier in the day.

Jungkook watches the interaction from his spot, his gaze sharpening as you walk off into the night with your usual grace. His chest tightens, and before he realizes it, his feet are moving.

He doesn’t know what compels him, but the idea of you being alone, even for a short while sends a strange urgency coursing through him.

Leaving his friends behind, who are too engrossed in their conversations to notice his sudden departure, he slips away. The cool breeze brushes past him as he strides towards your shop, his heart pounding in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he plans to say or do when he catches up to you, but he’s sure of one thing... he can’t keep this longing bottled up any longer.

The bell above the door jingles softly as you enter your flower shop, the familiar scent of blooms and fresh greenery enveloping you. The quiet of the shop contrasts sharply with the lively chatter of the barbecue behind you, making the space feel almost sacred.

You step past the counter and towards the storeroom, where your water filter is kept. It’s a cozy, tucked-away space filled with neatly labeled boxes of vases, floral foam, and ribbons.

The faint hum of the filter greets you as you flick on the light, placing the water bottle on the counter.

Humming softly to yourself, you begin filling it, the cool water rushing steadily into the bottle. While you're still inside, the shop’s door creaks open again and you don't really hear it.

Jungkook steps inside, his boots making almost no sound against the wooden floor as he closes the door behind him, careful not to alert you. The warm glow of the shop lights reflects off the rows of flower arrangements on display, casting soft shadows on the walls.

As he takes a step further in, his gaze locks onto the passage leading to the storeroom. It’s a narrow corridor lined with shelves holding tools and floral supplies. He knows you’re just beyond it. His pulse quickens, his resolve faltering for a brief second before he moves forward, his boots brushing lightly against the polished floor.

In the storeroom, you screw the cap back onto the filled water bottle, ready to return to the barbecue. Just as you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Jungkook standing in the doorway.

“Jungkook?” you ask, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His dark eyes meet yours, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, the small storeroom feels even smaller. His shoulders are broad, nearly filling the frame of the doorway, and his presence is so palpable it makes your breath hitch.

“I… I saw you leave,” he finally says, his voice low and rough. “Thought I’d check if you needed help.”

You blink at him, confused. “It’s just water, Jungkook. I can manage.” He steps further into the room, closing the door halfway behind him. The quiet hum of the water filter fills the silence between you.

“I know…” he admits, his gaze never leaving yours. “But… I just… I had to see you.”

There’s something in his tone... hesitation, maybe desperation, or even vulnerability that catches you off guard. You clutch the water bottle tighter, unsure of what to say. The tension in the air feels almost unbearable, like a string stretched too thin between you, threatening to snap.

“Why?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know.” he admits, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I just… uhh... seeing you with him...”

“Sunjae?” you interject, your brows knitting in confusion. The name tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

The effect is immediate. Jungkook takes a sudden step forward, his entire frame taut with an energy that feels almost dangerous. His eyes darken, their intensity cutting through you like a blade. “Don’t say his name.” he murmurs, his tone low, sharp, and commanding.

The air between you shifts. When did it get this heavy? You don’t even realize you’re retreating until your back meets the cold wall behind you.

A shiver runs down your spine, though you’re not sure if it’s the chill of the wall or the heat radiating from Jungkook’s advancing figure. The room feels smaller now, the walls closing in, leaving only him and the electricity thrumming between you.

He’s close... too close... and yet not close enough. But he inches forward, the words still hang in the air, and Jungkook hesitates, his frustration now palpable. He reaches out, his hands finding your waist, pulling you towards him. The water bottle slips from your hold, rolling away across the floor.

You’re not sure when the line between resistance and surrender blurred, but here you are, breath hitching as Jungkook’s grip tightens, pulling your body flush against his. The space between seems to vanish.

This moment, so surreal and unexpected, pulls you in. You don’t understand it, but who are you to question it? It feels like this is exactly what you've been craving for days... months... even years.

The warmth of him envelops you, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads to your fingertips. It’s overwhelming and terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating.

“Jungkook…” you whisper, breathless, feeling his body as he pulls you in even closer. His grip tightens, pulling your waist to his as he presses you against the wall, your bodies completely aligned now.

The room seems to shrink, too small, too warm with him so close. His eyes search yours, as if looking for something, and you meet his gaze. His hands, tentative but urgent, slightly slide under the hem of your top near your waist, his fingertips cold against your skin.

You part your lips, letting out a shaky breath, your body responding instinctively. He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours, both of you closing your eyes in the quiet intimacy. The world outside seems to pause, as if holding its breath, waiting for what might happen next.

Your knees weaken, and you grip the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in closer. The distance between you is evaporating, but just as it feels like everything is about to shift, a loud bang of your store's front door opening from outside the storeroom causes both of you to snap apart, startled.

“Y/n!!!” Seokjin’s voice rings out, cutting through the silence. Him again? Really? you wonder, frustration mixing with embarrassment. This is the second time now.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, his hands instinctively covering his face, a flush of heat rushing through him as he tries to regain control of his rapidly escalating emotions.

Seokjin’s voice blares again, louder this time, and that’s when it hits you. He cannot see you like this, especially not with Jungkook.

“Fuck.” you curse under your breath, panic rising. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You scramble to move away from Jungkook, quickly grabbing the water bottle that had been abandoned on the floor.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in confusion, his head tilting slightly. Before he can ask, you hurriedly whisper. “He can’t know you’re in here!” Your voice is urgent, shaking slightly as you glance towards the storeroom door.

Realization dawns upon him like a light switch, and he nods. You're right, someone catching the two of you alone in a secluded space like this? Not good. He rakes his hand through his hair, already understanding how awkward this would look.

“Stay here until you hear us leave.” you plead, your voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “Please don’t come out for at least five minutes. Promise me!”

Jungkook leans against the wall, arms crossed, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite your panic. “Five minutes?” he repeats, teasing lightly, but he nods all the same.

“Yes, five.” you insist, holding up your palm in a gesture for emphasis, fingers spread wide. You’re already backing towards the door, the water bottle clutched tightly in your hands. “Y/n-ah! Are you done yet?” Seokjin’s voice echoes again, impatient.

You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep, calming breath before yelling back. “Coming, Jin !! Just give me a sec !!”

Jungkook chuckles quietly at your flustered state, finding your panic oddly amusing. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?” he lowly murmurs, clearly entertained.

“Not the time.” you hiss, glaring at him before stealing a quick peek behind the door to check if Seokjin has entered the passage. Thankfully, it’s still clear. “Five whole minutes, got it?” you repeat, your tone stern, gesturing the number with your palm again for emphasis.

Jungkook leans casually against the shelf, his smirk growing. “Yes, boss.” he teases lightly, earning an exasperated roll of your eyes. Satisfied, you push the storeroom door open just enough to slip out. But as Jungkook watches you leave, his amusement is replaced by surprise when you suddenly pause.

Before he can process what’s happening, you turn on your heel and bolt back towards him, still clutching the water bottle in your hands. His eyes widen in confusion.

You don’t give yourself a second to overthink it. Standing on your tiptoes, you press a quick, feather like kiss on his cheek. Your lips linger for just a heartbeat before you pull away, the warmth of his skin burning against your own.

“I’ll see you out there.” you whisper, your voice soft and rushed, like a secret carried on the wind. And then you’re gone. The door creaks shut behind you, leaving Jungkook standing there, frozen in your storeroom. His hand slowly rises to touch his cheek where your kiss still lingers, his pulse racing.

An amused chuckle escapes him, low and disbelieving. He doesn’t move for a moment, still processing, before shaking his head with a small laugh.

Five minutes, huh? He’ll give you ten, if only to catch his breath.

//

Seokjin is here because, unbeknownst to you, you’d been gone far longer than you realized. As the two of you step out of the shop, his curious gaze falls on you. “What took you so long?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with mild concern.

Your mind races, briefly recollecting the moments that delayed you. Heat rises to your cheeks, but you quickly mask it, shrugging as you reply. “The water filter was acting up.”

Seokjin nods, accepting your explanation without question, and together, you make your way back to the bustle of the town square. The hum of laughter and chatter grows louder as you rejoin the crowd gathered near the gazebo.

Spotting Mrs. Kim, you walk over, handing her the filled water bottle with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for the delay.” you say earnestly. She waves you off with a warm smile, her kind demeanor easing the guilt that lingers in your chest. “It’s no trouble, dear... Thank you.” she sweetly says.

Minutes pass as you blend into the sea of familiar faces. Yet, your gaze is restless, scanning the space almost instinctively until it lands on him.

Jungkook.

He crosses the street with practiced ease, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he moves towards the gazebo where his friends sit. Though he tries to appear nonchalant, there’s a subtle weight to his stride, as though he’s aware of your eyes on him.

As he reaches his group and takes a seat, his dark eyes flicker across the crowd, until they lock with yours. And this time, the glance isn’t fleeting.

For the first time, the world doesn’t rush to pull you apart. His gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and you feel the edges of the universe blur. A shy smile tugs at his lips, one that mirrors your own, and in that moment, the air shifts.

It’s as though the tension that had wrapped so tightly around you both has unraveled, replaced by something gentler, warmer, a connection that hums like a quiet melody between your souls.

The world around you fades into a hazy backdrop. The night feels alive, not with chaos, but with a strange, unspoken understanding that flows between you and him like an electric current.

Soon enough, the barbecue flames dwindle, leaving behind glowing embers, and the volunteers begin to disperse, bidding each other goodnight. The air fills with the promise of something grand, a collective anticipation for tomorrow's fair.

The town settles under a blanket of stars, its streets shimmering with the preparations for the festivities to come. As your friends get ready to leave for the night, you glance towards the gazebo one last time, catching a glimpse of Jungkook as he laughs at something Yoongi says. He doesn’t look your way again, but that’s okay.

With a deep breath, you let the cool night air fill your lungs and start walking towards your shop, ready to lock up and head home. A quiet sense of peace settles within you, as if the evening had unfolded just as it was meant to... full of moments both subtle and meaningful.

<- part 7 // part 9 (coming soon) ->

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 (lmk if i missed anyone<3)

[kittycat10112004]

Guys I had the best zosan fic idea EVER an I needed to share before I forget. Though maybe it won't leave lol.

Anyways, yall know La siene? Well heres my idea.

Sanji learns the love language of wano while he's there, and is shocked to find out that doing little could mean so much, also the poetic way of saying i love you (the moon is beautiful isn't it?) and that Zoro had cared that much and he never knew, so he wants to make it up to him, by combining his love language with Zoros, he thinks of songs that has to do with the moon and love, then it hits him, La siene would be perfect. (Just switch the her parts to him lol) but he doesn't want the others to know what he's singing and to whom, so he's gonna sing in French, but he's gonna need some help from Robin. (cause Zoro doesn't know French) so events on wano happen and luffy wants another celebration on the ship, (cause why not?) and Sanji comes up with a plan, (and tells Robin too of course) Robin will leave a French book out so Zoro spots it and asks about it, then Robin will tell him about it and translate for him, then later on while the crew is celebrating and singing hed wait for his turn, and sing La siene to Zoro while making sure the others don't notice, and hold onto hope that Zoro accepts his confession. So, thats the plan. Now to put it in place. Robin leaves the book out and as expected Zoro notices and asks, to which Robin translates, (and teaches him how to confess in French too for good measure.) The day goes by and night falls which means the party is happening, time goes by a bit more, Zoro on the railing and watching nearby (at least far enough where the crew doesn't notice him, and checks the lavender rose in his harumaki, then returns to watching the crew) and Sanjis turn comes up, (Zoro expects that he will sing loud and clumsily to the lady's, like an idiot, what he doesn't know is he's about to be very wrong) Sanji steps to the metaphorical stage, starting to sing,

(Idk if its the French ver or not lol) Zoro thinks he's singing to the lady's (like the romantic fool he is) until Sanji looks at him, (I dont know, dont know, so dont ask me why, that's just how we love La Siene and I) (just listen to the song and imagine sanji singing it. and yes I know its a duet, id like to think that he'd sing it by himself to Zoro ok?) Shock is one hell of an understatement to Zoro, but now he sees why Robin was teaching him French earlier (as well as how to confess in French) it was Sanjis plan, of a Love confession to him. That idiot. (Zoros eyes are now completely on Sanji as he sings the rest of the song) and as much as Zoro hates to admit it, that was one hell of a love confession. Sanjis song finishes and the next go up is ussop, so Sanji leaves em be, choosing to walk over to Zoro, being a bit embarrassed, (despite how well it went) "so, what do you say?" (Zoro pulls out the lavender rose) "id say, je t'iame aussi." (I love you too) now its Sanjis turn to be shocked, Robin must have taught him behind his back, still, its such a confession that is still so sweet to him, he didn't have to follow through what Robin said and yet he did, even more so the meaning of the rose, (lavender rose means Enchantment, or "love at first sight") he took the rose and smelled it (he always loved the smell of roses) and, without missing a beat, pulled Zoro in close, and kissed him short, soft, and sweet (Robin watched out of the corner of her eye smiling before turning back to the show) Sanji looks at the strawhats then back at Zoro, "lets go a bit further away hm?" "mh" they go farther away till its a bit quieter, music barely heard in the background. And they stay in eachothers company, enjoying the quiet peaceful night under the moons glow.

(And thats the end, hope yall fellow zosan fans like this idea as much as I did. It was so fun to write.)

[daisymbin]

Im sorry but you do know that people realize it when you use chatgbt, right? I used an ai detector for your recent seungkwan drabble and well…100%…

I'm sorry but I don't use chatgpt.. I write all my fics myself at night, proofread them, and schedule them to be posted the next day. as English is not my first language, the things I write & styles are mostly from fics from tumblr, twitter and even wattpad back in the day that ive in a way, picked up. so maybe there's a certain writing style that's similar but I do not use chatgpt

damn honestly this kinda dampened my mood. was still proofreading for more stuff to be posted but for now, I'll just leave my last scheduled post as it is. it would be good to not have my work be discredited like this.

just wanna emphasise again that I do not use chatgpt or any other ai or whatever technology. I wrote them all myself, & again, I wanna emphasise that English is not my first language, it took many years of reading and learning to get here & I'll admit it's still not at its best level, but please be mindful that because it's not my first language, finding difficult words sometimes is a struggle for me, so I may end up reusing or rephrasing things I've already done before so hopefully u can understand that.

also as someone who when in university, all students had to first upload their work/assignments onto an ai detector thing for plagiarism purposes. only if our citation or work isnt over 10%, can we then submit the work so I know there's no such thing as 100% when it comes to things like this because that would mean i entirely copied someone's work? so hopefully, next time you can ask and check first before saying things outright like this.

++ i promise i'll stop adding to this but I have 20 reqs i haven't worked on, and 16 sitting in drafts, those in drafts were asks sent in 3 days ago that I'm still in the midst of writing. if I had used chatgpt or some ai platform, wouldn't they all have been done, written or whatever by now and posted?

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 28: The Sparks Brothers

I'm not a movie person... So when I do actually rewatch a movie (I mean, even watch it, at ALL, haha) it must really mean that something is up. I mean, well, it also IS a thorough, highly enjoyable and visually appealing movie about a band that I've been so incredibly invested in for the past several months. So maybe it's a surprise that I don't watch it more often actually. Because one beautiful side-effect of seeing it each time was getting an unexpected and very strong surge of motivation to keep on going towards the things that matter to me the most, despite any and all obstacles that could appear on the way. Another side-effect of it is being happy and joyfull and being filled with warm feelings and thoughts for the whole following day at least. Usually up to 3 days afterwards actually.

But ok, of course, what I'm getting at is that the Maels' story is so incredibly inspirational. Seeing how they persevered through all those years and NEVER lost their spirit or their vision, never gave up... is not only moving but also something that reminds me that wow, so much *really* is possible. I spent so many years fully convinced that there are things that I'll never be able to achieve. And sure, some of them are indeed pretty unlikely to happen. But if you told me from even one year ago that I'd be making art daily and not dreading being so much as perceived anywhere in the great world (so, including the internet)... well, I would have not believed it at all. I really mean it when I say that I used to believe that there are things that I'll just never be able to do. It's like it was simply not meant for me to be able do it and have those experiences. And yet...!

There's a lot I owe Sparks and this is one of the biggest things I'll always be grateful for. They really changed my life for the better. Truly nothing else before them reaches the same degree of how much it helped me. And well, I'm saying this on TSB day because this is where this feeling of gratitude and feeling SO lucky becomes the strongest. And the beautiful thing about it all is that they were always just themselves. They had their vision, they knew what they wanted to do and didn't care about how it would be received. Which is such an important and meaningful message to me, I can't even express how huge it is to me to see these two people who only really had themselves and their endurance and got exactly where they wanted to be.

Alright, some less grandiose observations now. Well, let's start with the fact that this was by no means my introduction to Sparks but it still really cemented my love for them even more. I loved being reminded of their whole journey and learning more about it, and even moreso I loved being able to see more of their beautiful brotherly bond and their wonderful personalities. Truly no other people in this whole world make me as happy as them currently. And the brothers' sense of humour hits super close to mine, so this is also a time filled with genuine laughs (I die laughing at the absolutely true Sparks facts at the end EVERY TIME). And since I'm a huge fan of animation and mixed media art and such things, this was simply a joy to view for my more artistically-inclined side too.

And damn, those two hours and 15 minutes really fly by so fast. When I have to arrange a huge timeslot to watch it all in one go, because that's the only way to do it for me, and then it feels like no time has passed anyway. And even with so much being said there, it feels like there's still so much more to get to. But it's still enough to lift my spirits completely for a pretty long time. And to make me cry a lot of the time too... Absolutely impossible to not shed a tear by the end of it all. It's moving, it's funny as heck, it's super fun and it's absolutely beautiful and truly lifechanging. 💖

[cheekblush]

i'd rather be friendless than to constantly have my boundaries disrespected

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[hesperidia]

On the topic of Dazai finding out Akutagawa died:

It's probable that he absolutely knows, finding out while in Mersault. It would make a lot of sense if Ango notified him first thing (given that Ango was also the first person Atsushi told about what happened at the ship). Another situation would be Ango hiding this information from him in order to not give him more baggage while dealing with Fyodor, but this seems unlikely.

Dazai would feel guilty i think, because why would he feel "happy" that Akutagawa is not killing anymore if he didn't care at all about him?

He doesn't know Akutagawa comes back. And he's not going to make it to Japan in less than 2hrs, so he will find out he's alive way after the rest of the cast (unless he and Chuuya communicate with Mori or Ango in the meantime).

So, i think Dazai would not have the guts to face Akutagawa afterwards, because he's deathly allergic to admit he ever fucked up. There should be a re-encounter, and an apology, but it should not be warm. though it probably would be and i'd hate that

[ratwars]

I love pavloving myself with music for writing I've done it twice now and it has made it so easy to pick things up. First with the Roses and Revolutions coffee shop playlist for Angel Collective, now with The Cure's Disintegration for The Same Deep Water as You. It is like a cheat code to productivity, but it only works if the music fits my writing and that is not something I can just conjure up every time.