#energies vertes

[energies-renouvelables-ecologie]

Les énergies renouvelables : un pilier pour la transition énergétique

Partout à travers le monde, on mise beaucoup sur les énergies vertes afin de limiter la consommation de ressources fossiles néfastes à l’environnement. La France n’est pas en reste et compte mettre les bouchées doubles pour augmenter sa production d’électricité renouvelable dans le but de soutenir la transition énergétique.

Crédit image : Clker-Free-Vector-Images de Pixabay

[vertenergygroup]

How Vert Energy Group is Revolutionizing the Energy Sector 

Introduction

In the modern world, the energy sector is a dynamic and evolving landscape, one that is increasingly influenced by the urgent need for sustainability and efficiency. The emerging challenges of climate change, the depletion of finite resources, and the quest for renewable alternatives have made innovation the linchpin of progress in this vital industry. As the global community shifts its focus towards sustainable growth, companies like Vert Energy Group are leading the charge, redefining the future with groundbreaking energy solutions. 

Understanding Vert Energy Group

Vert Energy Group has built its foundations on the promise of delivering forward-thinking energy solutions to an industry ripe for change. With a history marked by a relentless pursuit of excellence, Vert Energy Group has established a powerful presence, driven by a mission to empower clients with the tools needed for navigating the complex terrain of energy regulations, sustainability, and cost-efficiency. 

The organization’s tireless effort to revolutionize the energy sector is rooted in a deep-seated commitment to reshaping how businesses think about and utilize energy. Vert Energy Group stands out as an agent of change, fostering a future where energy consumption is not just optimized but is inherently smarter, cleaner, and more aligned with the planet’s ecological boundaries. 

Vert Energy Group’s Innovative Solutions

At the core of Vert Energy Group’s impact is a suite of innovative solutions tailored to disrupt the status quo and set a new benchmark in the industry: 

Energy Procurement & Management

The challenge of energy procurement is multifaceted, entwined with market volatility, regulatory landscapes, and the shifting sands of supply and demand. Vert Energy Group’s approach to energy procurement is layered and strategic, focusing not only on the acquisition of energy at competitive prices but also on managing it with an eye toward future trends and innovations. This foresight allows clients to benefit from energy contracts that are both cost-effective and flexible, adapting to the ever-changing market conditions. 

 Utility Data Management 

The backbone of any cutting-edge energy strategy is robust utility data management. Vert Energy Group harnesses the power of data to craft a transparent and insightful narrative around energy consumption patterns and potential savings. By aggregating and analyzing utility data, they provide clients with a clear roadmap for energy usage optimization, ensuring that every kilowatt-hour is accounted for and every opportunity for efficiency is seized

Sustainability & Renewable Energy Services

Sustainability is no longer an option; it’s a requirement for the future of business and the planet. Recognizing this, Vert Energy Group offers a comprehensive portfolio of renewable energy solutions, advocating for the integration of green energy sources into the energy mix of their clients. These services go beyond mere compliance with environmental standards; they embody a commitment to a sustainable future where renewable solutions don’t just support but drive the energy narrative. 

 Impact on the Industry and Beyond 

Future of Energy with Vert Energy Group

The future, as envisioned by Vert Energy Group, is not just about generating energy, but about anticipating the needs and challenges of tomorrow’s world. It’s about shaping an industry that prioritizes the wise use of resources, embraces the potential of renewables, and thrives on innovation. With ongoing research and development, Vert Energy Group is laying the groundwork for a paradigm where energy procurement is proactive, intelligent, and in harmony with global sustainability goals. 

 Conclusion 

In an era where energy consumption and environmental impact are under intense scrutiny, Vert Energy Group emerges as a beacon of progress and a harbinger of change. Their commitment to revolutionizing the energy sector resonates with the urgent global call for sustainable and intelligent energy solutions. As they continue to break new ground, Vert Energy Group not only responds to the demands of the present but actively shapes the contours of a smarter, greener, more efficient energy future for all. 

[homosexualcitron]

It's the agricultural fair soon (WHICH I CAN'T WAIT FOR!!!!) i think i'll wait that to work on my comic again!! :))

[drs-energie-solaire]

DRS Energie Solaire : Pionnier de la Transition Énergétique à Montpellier et ses Environs

DRS Energie Solaire : Pionnier de la Transition Énergétique à Montpellier et ses Environs

Introduction

Dans le paysage en constante évolution de l'énergie, DRS Energie Solaire émerge comme le leader incontesté de la transition vers une énergie plus propre et durable. Basée à Montpellier, cette entreprise spécialisée dans l'installation de panneaux photovoltaïques et d'autres solutions solaires s'est taillé une réputation solide au cours de ses plus de 15 ans d'existence.

L'Entreprise

DRS Energie Solaire, dont le siège historique est situé au 83 Rte du Pont de Guerre, 34970 Lattes, France, propose une gamme variée de services. Au-delà de l'installation de panneaux solaires, l'entreprise excelle également dans la mise en place de chauffe-eau solaires, de bornes de recharge IRVE pour véhicules électriques, d'auvents et de carports photovoltaïques.

Les Clients et Leurs Besoins

Les clients de DRS Energie Solaire recherchent avant tout l'autoconsommation pour réduire leur facture énergétique mensuelle. Ils aspirent à l'indépendance énergétique que seuls des artisans et des techniciens qualifiés peuvent leur offrir à travers l'installation de panneaux solaires.

Historique et Expérience

Forte de plus de 15 ans d'expérience, DRS Energie Solaire a su évoluer avec les avancées technologiques tout en maintenant un niveau d'expertise inégalé dans le domaine de l'énergie solaire.

Implantation Géographique

Bien que présente dans toute la France, l'entreprise a son siège à Montpellier, une ville dont l'ensoleillement généreux offre un terrain propice à l'exploitation maximale de l'énergie solaire. Les villes environnantes, telles que Mauguio, Pérols, Lattes, et Pérols, bénéficient également de conditions idéales pour des solutions solaires efficaces.

Gamme de Services

DRS Energie Solaire propose une gamme complète de services pour répondre à tous les besoins liés à l'énergie solaire. Des installations sur mesure, des auvents et carports photovoltaïques innovants aux solutions de recharge pour véhicules électriques, l'entreprise offre des options pour tous les projets.

L'Innovation en Action : Auvents et Carports Photovoltaïques

Au cœur de l'innovation se trouvent les auvents et carports photovoltaïques de DRS Energie Solaire. Alliant esthétisme et efficacité énergétique, ces structures ne se contentent pas de produire de l'électricité, elles offrent également une protection contre les intempéries.

Puissance Configurable et Solutions pour Tous

DRS Energie Solaire propose des installations solaires de 3kWh à 9kWh, répondant ainsi à une variété de besoins, que ce soit pour des particuliers, des maisons de vacances, des résidences secondaires ou des projets de revente d'énergie.

Réalisation des Chantiers

L'approche professionnelle de DRS Energie Solaire lors de la réalisation des chantiers à Montpellier et ses environs se caractérise par une conception personnalisée, une installation professionnelle, une intégration harmonieuse, et un suivi post-installation attentif.

Conclusion

DRS Energie Solaire incarne l'avenir de l'énergie durable à Montpellier et au-delà. En choisissant cette entreprise, les clients s'associent à une transition énergétique réussie, contribuant ainsi à un avenir plus vert et économique. Faites confiance à DRS Energie Solaire pour concrétiser vos projets solaires avec succès.

#DRSEnergieSolaire #TransitionÉnergétiqueMontpellier #AutoconsommationPhotovoltaïque #InnovationÉnergétique #PanneauxSolairesMontpellier #ÉnergieDurable #AuventsPhotovoltaïques #SolaireOccitanie #MontpellierVerte #DRSSuccessSolaire

DRS Energie Solaire Installateurs de Panneaux Solaire drs-energie-solaire.fr 06 95 03 83 96 83 Rte du Pont de Guerre, 34970 Lattes, France hello@drs-energie-solaire.fr

[poltergeist-coffee]

the world is sooo lucky that i don’t know how to write or have any fic ideas because it would be over for insaneduo (and slimeriana)

[moviestarmartini]

flores amarillas. — franco colapinto x gf!reader

él la estaba esperando con una flor amarilla / ella lo estaba soñando con la luz en su pupila / y el amarillo del sol iluminaba la esquina / lo sentía tan cercano, lo sentía desde niña.

summary: franco surprised you at the airport on a special saturday.

wc: 800

warnings: none! just fluff, conversations in spanish, idiots in love and a established relationship.

A/N: feliz día internacional (latino mostly) de las flores amarillas hehehehe i added the context in the fic so i won't give it here !

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The only way your trajectory to Singapore could get worse was if the plane exploded mid-air like in Final Destination. 

It was humiliating; you were supposed to arrive Friday, and by the time you took your last connection, the estimated time of arrival was for early Saturday morning. The bags under your eyes were bigger than the ones sitting in the compartment underneath the passengers, you went from lack of sleep due to excitement to hibernation, ignoring the flight attendants who attempted to wake you up. 

You only rose from your slumber while the destination edged nearer, to freshen up and half heartedly have breakfast. You did your best to look presentable, flushing away in the sink the despair from both the missed connections and long customs lines. This involved changing out of the designated airport lounging outfit into something more fresh, having prepared the outfit in your personal bag, feeling the humidity already crawl up your bones even when you hadn’t descended. 

After his excellent work in Baku, Franco was eager to finally fly you out to see him race live in the top category, only having experienced him in the feeder series. The nerves ate you up, walking the paddock with your boyfriend was something you had fantasized about, but never expected to become a reality even when he reached Formula One. 

But there you were, praying for your bag to come out and not have gotten lost, leaving a big sigh of relief upon spotting it, untampered with. It wasn’t that heavy, and it was that moment of strength that took over you whenever your boyfriend wasn’t there to carry everything. 

As soon as your roaming plan kicked in you contacted him, letting him know you were there. He told you he hired a chauffeur to pick you up and take you back to the hotel, excusing himself due to the need to rest before paddock duties, which you completely understood. 

Imagine the surprise to see him standing at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of yellow flowers. 

His face lit up in joy at the same time yours lit up in surprise, a delicate hand flying over to cover the O your mouth had turned into. 

Gifting yellow flowers on September 21st was used to celebrate the beginning of spring in the southern hemisphere, and the phenomenon just spread all throughout Hispanic countries. You’d dropped hints here and there, but with the stress from your flight… situations you’d completely forgotten about everything else. 

Your suitcase made noise against the floor as you dragged it along your sprint, letting it go— but making sure it stayed put— before hugging him tight. His laughter replenished all the energy the trouble had taken away from you, nuzzling into his shirt to breathe in his scent. 

Yeah, it was your Franco. 

“¡Me mentiste!” You proclaimed, hitting him in the chest. He ignored the subject of the yellow flowers and supposedly arranged for a third party to pick you up. 

“Buen día princesa hermosa, feliz de verte.” He blatantly ignored your claims, leaning in to smooch your cheek, hanging the bouquet of sunflowers with fresh eucalyptus mixed in for some greenery. You didn’t know if your ears felt warm because of the high temperatures or the flattery. 

“¿Cómo es que iba la canción? Ella sabía que el sabía que sabía que algún día pasaría—“ You interrupted his annoying high pitched sing along while you took a picture of the plants, heart thumping in your chest. 

“No, no. Que él sabía que algún día pasaría a buscarla—“ Now it was his turn for him to interrupt you, putting a finger over your lips. 

“—con sus flores amarillas!” Though you would regularly be offended at him interrupting you, you almost giggled at his antics. 

You stood there for a second, unable to tear your eyes away from the warm toned bouquet, still in the best type of disbelief. You didn’t notice it was you who he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

The second you told him you were asking for all the permissions to get a vacation sorted to see him race, he knew he had to make it special. And by your reaction, he knew it was a mission accomplished. Besides, it warmed his heart to see you so happy. 

“Let’s go get you freshen up and head to the paddock, if I’m any later than the hour I have left, they’re going to replace me.” Now the idea didn’t terrify you just as much, you were too busy gawking about the surprise to your mom and your friends, following him to the car knowing you had no time to lose nor spare. 

He took both your weekender and the medium sized suitcase, letting you to only carry the weight of having the best boyfriend ever. 

[julietsf1]

A Technical Mistake - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: peaceful paddock mornings of stocking caps and shirts are flipped upside down when Franco Colapinto, a charming stranger she assumes is part of the AV crew, comes into her store and gives her weekend an unexpected turn. (7k words)

content: big misunderstanding; cute Franco; reader is a normal working girl

AN: I am such a sucker for stories with a little cinderella vibe! I was thinking of buying the blue Williams jacket on track in Brazil but it was so spenny! send me ur sugar daddies pls!

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

The paddock was eerily quiet, an almost sacred calm before the storm of engines roaring, fans screaming, and journalists scrambling for the latest drama. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rubber—a smell I’d grown oddly fond of over the years.

This was my favorite time of the weekend. Before the rush, before the chaos of customers demanding sizes and colors we didn’t have, I could take a moment to breathe, to organize the merchandise store in peace.

“Me bajé del avión, voy corriendo para verte…” I sang softly, shimmying a little as I balanced a stack of Williams caps. The sound of Duki was the perfect soundtrack to my morning. The melody took over, and before I knew it, I was halfway moonwalking back to the Ferrari section, twirling a hanger between my fingers like I was starring in some kind of musical.

The song’s beat was about to drop when a voice cut through my impromptu performance.

“¿Y siempre bailás así mientras laburás, o es solo un show privado?” (Do you always dance like this while working, or is it just a private show?)

I froze mid-step, almost dropping the caps in my hands. Whipping around, my heart racing, I found myself face-to-face with a guy leaning against the doorframe. He had this ridiculous grin plastered across his face, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“¡Ah!” I yelped, clutching my chest. “Perdón, I didn’t—uh… ¿qué?” (Sorry, I didn’t—uh… what?)

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Te pregunté si siempre bailás así mientras laburás.” (I asked if you always dance like that while working.)

Heat crept up my neck, and I scrambled to pull myself together. “Oh, uh… sí. Quiero decir, no. Bueno, depende…” (Yes. I mean, no. Well, it depends…)

His grin widened. “No pensé que alguien en el paddock también escuchara a Duki. ¿Sabías que el último álbum es una obra maestra? La forma en que mezcla el trap con el reguetón es una locura—” (! I didn’t think anyone in the paddock listened to Duki too. Did you know his latest album is a masterpiece? The way he mixes trap with reggaeton is insane—)

“Eh, pará,” (Wait, hold up,), I interrupted, holding up a hand, feeling my brain short-circuit as I tried to keep up with his rapid Spanish. “Hablo un poco español… pero no muy bien.” (I speak a little spanish… but not very well.)

That gave him half a second of pause before he broke into laughter. “¿No muy bien? Pero me contestaste perfecto.�� (Not very well? But you answered me perfectly.) His tone was teasing, but there was no malice—just genuine warmth. “Igual, perdón. A veces hablo mucho. Es que me emocioné.” (Sorry. Sometimes I talk too much. I just got excited.)

I blinked, thrown off by his sudden shift to sincerity. “No, no, está bien. Me gusta Duki también.” (No, no, it’s okay. I like Duki too.)

“¡Ah, viste!” (Ah, see!), he said, throwing his hands up in delight. “¿Cuál es tu canción favorita? Mirá, ‘Goteo’ siempre me pone de buen humor, pero ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ es un clásico. Y si me decís que ‘Chico Estrella’ no te gusta, no sé si podemos ser amigos.” (What’s your favorite song? Look, ‘Goteo’ always puts me in a good mood, but ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ is a classic. And if you tell me you don’t like ‘Chico Estrella,’ I don’t know if we can be friends.)

I stared at him, trying to decipher his rapid enthusiasm. I caught about half of what he said, but his energy was infectious. “Uh… ‘Chico Estrella’ es muy buena,” (‘Chico Estrella’ is very good,), I ventured cautiously, hoping I wasn’t completely misinterpreting him.

His hand went to his chest like I’d just said something profound. “Sabía que eras de las mías. Esto es destino.” (I knew you were one of mine. This is destiny.)

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “¿Siempre hablás tanto con gente que no conocés?” (Do you always talk this much to people you don’t know?)

“Solo con la gente que escucha buena música,” (Only with people who listen to good music,), he replied smoothly, then added with a wink, “Soy Franco, por cierto. Mucho gusto.” (I’m Franco, by the way. Nice to meet you.)

“Oh, eh… Y/N,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand briefly. “Mucho gusto.” (Nice to meet you.)

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was savoring the sound of it. “Bueno, ¿qué estás haciendo? ¿Preparando todo para el gran finde?” (So, what are you doing? Getting everything ready for the big weekend?)

“Sí.” I nodded, switching back to English because I knew I was about to run out of Spanish confidence. “I’m setting up the store. It’s… not super exciting.”

“¡Claro que sí!” (Of course it is!) he replied, not missing a beat. “Look at this—hats, shirts, models of cars. Very exciting.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Right. And what about you?”

“I’m here for the soundcheck,” he replied with a grin.

“Soundcheck?” I frowned. “Oh, like for the AV stuff?”

“Exactly.” His lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. “The audio visual stuff. Very technical, very important. You know how it is.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “So why are you hanging out here instead of being ‘very technical’?”

“Because,” he said, his grin widening, “I heard someone singing Duki and thought, wow.”

“Oh my God.” I groaned, turning back to my work. “I wasn’t singing.”

“You were definitely singing.”

“And I wasn’t dancing,” I added quickly.

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “That little move you did with your feet? Totally not dancing.”

“Okay, fine!” I laughed, throwing my hands up. “I was dancing. But you’re not supposed to be here yet, so technically, you shouldn’t have seen it.”

“Technically, I shouldn’t be here at all,” he said with a shrug, “but aren’t you glad I am?”

“No, actually,” I deadpanned, though my grin gave me away.

Franco laughed, glancing at the pile of caps balanced precariously on the counter. “You’re doing heavy lifting, huh? Don’t knock over anything else.”

“That was an accident!” I protested. “The shelves are wobbly.”

“Right. The shelves are wobbly,” he nodded sagely. “Not because you panicked when someone caught you salsa dancing.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh my God, just go do your soundcheck!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. But seriously, next time I’m back, I expect a full choreography.”

Peeking through my fingers, I saw him give me a playful wave before stepping out. For a moment, I just stood there, trying—and failing—to fight the smile creeping onto my face.

…

The paddock was already alive with early risers: engineers carrying coffee cups larger than their heads, journalists muttering into their phones, and the occasional VIP wandering too close to restricted areas before being politely redirected. I tightened my jacket against the crisp morning air, balancing a tray of new Williams caps as I unlocked the shop.

Friday had been a whirlwind of chaos—overwhelming, exhausting, but honestly kind of fun. The memory of my unexpected visitor lingered, his laughter and that unmistakable grin replaying in my mind. Franco. I didn’t know why he stuck out so much.

I hummed as I worked, letting my playlist fill the silence of the shop. I was halfway through adjusting a tower of Ferrari shirts when his voice rang out again.

“Bizarrap now? Y/N where have you been all this time”

I jumped, narrowly avoiding knocking over the display. “Oh my God, you really need to stop sneaking up on me!”

Franco leaned casually against the doorframe, thermos in hand, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not my fault you’re always in the middle of a dance routine when I show up.”

“Maybe if you showed up at a normal time, I wouldn’t be,” I shot back, though I couldn’t hide my grin.

“Nah, that’d be boring,” he said with a shrug, stepping inside like he belonged there. “And anyway, I was just passing by. Thought I’d check if my favorite shop manager was still here.”

“You mean the shop manager,” I corrected, setting the shirts down. “Unless you’re making house calls for all the merch shops on track now.”

Franco chuckled, unscrewing the lid of his thermos. “Only the best ones.”

My eyes flicked to the thermos, curiosity piqued. “Is that… for maté?”

“Yeah!” His face lit up like I’d just asked if he wanted to talk about his favorite thing in the world. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve heard of it,” I admitted. “Isn’t it like… tea?”

“Like tea?” He clutched his chest in mock offense. “You’re killing me. It’s more than tea. It’s life itself. It’s tradition. It’s community. It’s—”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed, holding up my hands. “So it is better than tea, I assume?”

Franco grinned, pulling out the gourd and bombilla. “I’m about to change your life. Want to try?”

“Sure,” I said, hesitating only briefly before taking the gourd he offered. I sipped cautiously, my expression shifting from surprise to delight. “Oh! This is actually really good.”

“See!” Franco said, looking far too pleased with himself. “I knew I liked you.”

“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Glad to have passed the test.”

“So, how was yesterday? Did the paddock treat you well?”

I groaned, leaning against the counter. “If you consider someone asking if I had Ferrari shirts in passionfruit purple treating me well, then sure.”

Franco choked on his sip, coughing through his laughter. “Passionfruit purple? What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “I tried to tell him we only have red, black, and white, and he told me that wasn’t his problem and I should go find some elsewhere.”

“Classic paddock VIP,” Franco said, shaking his head. “What else?”

“Oh, then there was this woman who wanted me to bedazzle her Red Bull polo. While she waited.”

“She expected you to add rhinestones? To a team shirt?” Franco asked, looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“That’s exactly what she thought,” I said, laughed. “When I said we can’t do that, she asked if I at least had Swarovski crystals on hand for her to do it herself, because she wasn’t going to her after party without extra sparkle.”

Franco joined in, leaning against the counter and shaking his head. “I don’t know how you put up with this.”

“And what about you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Any exciting AV work today?”

Franco paused, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You could say that. It’s a little more... hands-on today, you know?”

“Right,” I said, nodding as if I understood. “Lots of wires and soundboards, I bet. Very technical.”

“What can I say?” Franco replied, his grin widening. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Clearly.” I gestured to the thermos. “Like carrying around fancy tea and converting clueless shop managers into maté fans.”

“Fancy tea again? Y/N, you’re killing me,” he said, clutching his chest.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll respect the maté. But only because it’s actually pretty good.”

“Good answer,” he said, giving me a wink.

For a moment, we just stood there, the comfortable silence punctuated by the distant hum of the paddock coming to life.

“You know,” Franco said finally, glancing at his watch, “I should probably get going. Qualifying’s not going to prepare itself.”

“Oh, right. Your very important AV duties,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly.” He lingered for a second longer before turning toward the door. “Don’t let anyone ask you for passionfruit purple hats today.”

“No promises,” I called after him.

As the door swung shut behind him, I found myself smiling again. There was something about Franco—something easy and infectious—that made my day feel a little lighter.

…

In the evening the paddock got quiet, the hum of activity winding down as the sun dipped below the horizon. Most of the crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the faint sounds of tools clinking in garages and muted laughter from hospitality suites above.

I finished wiping down the counter, my eyes scanning the shelves for anything out of place. There was still inventory to complete, but for now, the stillness felt like a small victory.

I was halfway through adjusting a rack of shirts when a voice broke the silence.

“You haven’t closed the shop yet?”

I turned, heart skipping a beat, to see Franco leaning against the doorframe. His hoodie and cap cast his face in partial shadow, but his green eyes were unmistakable, glinting with mischief.

“You again?” I said, a laugh bubbling up despite my surprise. “What is this, your evening shift?”

“Exactly,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Someone’s gotta make sure everything’s in order.”

“Right,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Because you’re clearly the expert on retail management.”

Franco grinned, brushing past me to inspect the hats on display. “You’re doing a great job, by the way. Everything looks very... symmetrical.”

“Thanks for the expert feedback,” I said, laughing. “Shouldn’t you be doing something important right now? Like, I don’t know, AV things?”

“Done for the day,” he said, casually flipping a hat onto its stand. “And anyway, I couldn’t just walk by without saying hi.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed, though the warmth creeping into my cheeks betrayed me.

Franco leaned against the counter, his gaze sweeping over my setup. “So, how’s it going? Any more requests for glitter shirts?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” I said, laughing. “Someone asked if I had a distressed Mercedes hoodie for them. ‘Rick Owens’ vibe was what they said, I believe.”

Franco snorted, shaking his head. “And what did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t think team-approved merch came pre-ripped,” I replied. “They asked if I had scissors.”

He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “You’re a stronger person than me. I’d have handed them the scissors and said, ‘Go for it.’”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, grinning.

As we talked, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by the effortless rhythm of our banter. He had this way of making me feel at ease, even when I was convinced he was only here to tease me.

Eventually, I glanced at the clock. “Alright, I need to lock up.”

“Let me help,” Franco offered, already moving to grab a stray box of caps.

“You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he said, flashing me a playful grin. “What kind of company would I be if I didn’t pitch in?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue, watching as he stacked the box neatly against the wall.

“Thanks,” I said as I double-checked the locks.

“No problem,” he replied, leaning casually against the door. “So... do you ever get to enjoy the race, or are you always stuck in here?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I can hear the cars and feel the atmosphere, which is cool, but I’m usually too busy to watch.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Wanna change that?”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he said, gesturing toward the staircase. “The garage should still be open.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “The garage? I don’t think I’m allowed over there. Are you even allowed there?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his grin widening. “You’re with me. No one’s going to stop us.”

“Franco…”

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Live a little.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I sighed and followed him, my heart racing as we crossed the paddock.

The Williams garage was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling paddock outside. The bright fluorescent lights highlighted every polished surface, and the sleek car sat in the middle of the space like a centerpiece in a gallery. It felt strangely intimate, with no engineers or team members left. I hesitated just outside the entrance, my nerves catching up with me now that we were here.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, clutching my bag tightly. “It’s... empty.”

“That’s the best part,” Franco replied, his grin widening as he gestured for me to follow him inside. “No one to stop us.”

I paused, glancing around the pristine space. “I don’t know... This feels like trespassing.”

“It’s not trespassing if I’m the one who brought you,” he said, walking backward as if to coax me forward. “Come on. Live a little.”

I sighed but couldn’t fight back my smile as I followed him in, my sneakers squeaking faintly against the shiny floor. The atmosphere was surreal, and the closer we got to the car, the more my awe grew. I’d seen Formula 1 cars on TV, in pictures, even on the paddock screens—but standing next to one was an entirely different experience.

Franco smirked, gesturing toward the car. “Look here,” he said, crouching slightly to point out the edge of the floorboard. “See how the side pods curve in? That’s for cooling. Air flows through there to keep the engine temperature stable. Without it, you’re toast by lap ten.”

I leaned closer, my brow furrowing as I followed his line of sight. “So... it’s like a high-tech air conditioner for the car?”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening. “Though we call it aero. Sounds cooler, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Very fancy.”

Franco stood and walked toward the rear wing, beckoning me to follow. “And this—this is where all the magic happens.”

I trailed after him, folding my arms as he gestured to the intricate structure of the wing. “Let me guess. It’s, uh, what keeps the car from flying off the track?”

“Close,” Franco said, clearly enjoying my attempt. “It’s all about downforce. The rear wing pushes the car into the track so we can go faster through corners. Too little, and you’re skidding all over the place. Too much, and you’re slower on the straights. It’s a balancing act.”

My eyes flicked to the faintly scuffed surface of the wing. “Is that why it looks so... fragile? Like one bump and it’ll fall apart?”

Franco chuckled. “It’s tougher than it looks. But yeah, you don’t want to crash into someone—or something. The engineers would cry.”

I laughed, picturing an entire team of engineers in despair over a dented wing. “So, you actually know what all this stuff does?”

“Of course,” Franco said, his tone almost offended but playful.

“I mean, for an AV guy, you’re awfully... knowledgeable,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He paused, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Let’s just say I pay attention.”

“This is insane,” I whispered, taking in all the intricate details of the car again. “It’s... beautiful.”

Franco chuckled. “That’s one way to describe it. Most people just say, ‘Fast.’”

“Well, it’s that too,” I said, shooting him a look. “But seriously... It’s like art.”

“Art that goes over 300 kilometers per hour,” he said, his grin softening. “Wanna sit in it?”

I froze, turning to him with wide eyes. “What? No. I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Franco said, already moving toward the cockpit. “Come on, it’s not going to bite.”

I hesitated, glancing between him and the car. There was something in his expression—playful, but also genuinely encouraging—that made me relent. “Fine. But if anyone finds out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, helping me climb in.

The cockpit was snug—far tighter than I’d expected—and I felt awkward as I tried to maneuver my legs into position. Once I was settled, I placed my hands on the steering wheel cautiously, my heart racing.

“This feels... surreal,” I said, staring at the wheel.

“You look like a pro already,” Franco said, crouching beside the car with his phone in hand.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned, catching the gleam in his eyes.

“Too late,” he said, snapping a picture before I could protest.

“Franco!”

“What?” he said innocently, holding up the photo for me to see. “Look, it’s a good angle. Very Instagram-worthy.”

I groaned, but I couldn’t help laughing. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look cool,” he corrected, saving the photo. “But don’t worry—I’ll send it to you. For your mom, obviously.”

I laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Oh yeah, because my mom’s dying to see me breaking rules in the paddock.”

“She’ll be proud,” Franco said, standing up. “Here, try this.”

He handed me a helmet, which I reluctantly placed on my head. It was far too big, wobbling precariously as I adjusted the strap.

“Okay, this is worse,” I said, my voice muffled by the helmet. “I look like a bobblehead.”

Franco burst out laughing, doubling over as he tried to steady himself. “You’re not wrong, but it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

“Definitely,” he said, snapping another picture before I could stop him.

“You’re actually the worst, you know that?” I said, reaching to swat the phone from his hand, but he dodged easily.

“Admit it,” he teased, slipping the phone into his pocket. “You’re having fun.”

I paused, the weight of the helmet making me grin. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” Franco said, setting the phone down. “That’s the point.”

As we wandered back toward the front of the garage, I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder at the car one last time. It felt like I’d just stepped into another universe, one far removed from the chaos of my usual day.

“Thanks for this,” I said quietly. “It was... unexpected. In a good way.”

“Anytime,” Franco said, his smile genuine. “Next time, we’ll take it for a spin.”

I snorted. “Yeah, no thanks. I like having a license.”

…

My phone buzzed in my pocket as we reached the door to the paddock’s outer corridor. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen: my colleague’s name lighting up in bold letters.

“Oh shoot,” I said, answering quickly. “Hey, yeah, sorry! I’m on my way now.”

Franco raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently as I finished the call.

“Forgot I’m carpooling,” I explained as I tucked my phone away. “I’m supposed to meet my colleague Alicia in the parking lot, like... five minutes ago.”

“Lucky for you, I know the way,” Franco said with a grin. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, even as I fell into step beside him.

“I insist,” he said, slipping his hands into his hoodie pockets. “It’s dangerous out there. You might get mobbed by someone asking for sapphire-blue polos again.”

I laughed. “Good point. Better bring backup.”

We walked together through the quiet paddock, the sounds of the race weekend fading into the background. Franco’s pace was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, and I found myself relaxing despite the mild panic of running late.

“So,” Franco said after a beat, “what’s the plan? Dinner, sleep, and back to the chaos tomorrow?”

“Pretty much,” I replied. “I’ll probably be dreaming about misplaced hats and impossible customer requests.”

“Sounds thrilling,” he teased, glancing over at me.

“Oh, it’s a dream come true,” I joked.

When we reached the parking lot, I slowed, turning toward him. “Thanks for walking me. You didn’t have to, but... it was nice.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said easily, his grin softening. “Oh, before you go—what’s your Instagram?”

“My Instagram?” I repeated, blinking.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll send you the pictures. Besides, it’s a nice excuse to text you later.”

His tone was casual, but the glint in his eyes gave away the playful intent.

“Smooth,” I said, smiling as I typed my handle into his phone.

“What can I say?” he replied, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve got my moments.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned to leave. But before I’d even made it to Alicia’s car, my phone buzzed again.

I glanced down at the screen, expecting a message, but instead, I saw a follow request. Franco Colapinto.

Curious, I tapped on his profile—and froze.

There it was, plain as day: Williams Racing Driver.

My jaw dropped. I turned back toward him, still standing where we’d parted, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught me staring.

“You’re a driver?” I asked, loud enough for him to hear across the lot.

He sauntered closer, his grin widening. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No!” I said, my cheeks warming. “You let me think you were just—”

“Just what?” he asked, his voice full of teasing amusement. “The AV guy?”

“Yes!”

Franco laughed, the sound warm and easy. “I never said that. You just assumed. I wasn’t about to ruin the fun.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped, caught off guard by the way he was looking at me—not smug, but something softer.

“You’re enjoying yourself way too much right now.”

“Can you blame me?” he said, his grin widening.

I felt my cheeks warm and quickly looked away, fiddling with a stray cap on the counter. “Well, excuse me for not keeping tabs on every random person who shows up in the paddock.”

“Random?” he gasped dramatically, leaning closer. “You wound me, Y/N.”

I tried to suppress a smile, focusing hard on arranging the caps. “You know what I mean.”

Franco’s teasing softened, and his voice lowered just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Don’t worry. I get it. I joined mid-season—no merch, no big fuss. Kind of nice, actually.”

I shook my head, biting back a smile as Alicia honked the car horn, impatient. I glanced over my shoulder, then back at Franco.

“Well, good luck tomorrow, driver,” I said, emphasizing the word with a playful grin.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping closer, his tone dipping into something more deliberate. “And if I score points, you’ll come celebrate, right?”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

“The fun kind,” he said, his green eyes glinting. “Drinks, music... Maybe even some dancing, if you’re up for it.”

My cheeks warmed again, but this time I didn’t shy away. “Alright. If you score points, I’m in.”

“Good,” he said, stepping back with a wink. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I turned and headed to Alicia’s car, my heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the hurried pace. As I slid into the passenger seat, my phone buzzed again—a message from Franco.

You’re going to have fun tomorrow. Trust me. ;)

I couldn’t help but smile as I replied: You better deliver, Colapinto.

…

Franco had just wrapped up his post-race interviews, a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through him. Eighth place—points for Williams. It wasn’t a podium, but it felt like a win. The team’s hospitality suite loomed just ahead, buzzing with the chatter of staff, sponsors, and VIP guests waiting to congratulate him.

The Williams event manager was already gesturing for him to join the group. “Franco, let’s keep moving. You’re late for the team celebration.”

But Franco barely slowed his stride. His gaze flicked across the paddock and landed on the merchandise store. His grin widened.

“Give me a minute,” he said, waving her off.

“Franco—” she started, exasperated, but he was already heading toward the shop.

…

I was busy ringing up yet another Charles Leclerc cap when I felt the store’s energy shift. A hush swept over the customers, quickly replaced by murmurs.

“Is that...?” one whispered loudly.

“Oh my God, it’s Franco Colapinto!” another exclaimed.

I glanced up, my heart skipping a beat as Franco strolled in, still wearing his race suit, unzipped to reveal the Williams-branded undershirt beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had that unmistakable post-race glow—the combination of effort and adrenaline that made him look annoyingly good. His green eyes scanned the shop before locking onto me.

He ignored the sudden buzz of whispers and phones being whipped out, walking straight to the counter with that easy confidence.

“Well?” he said, leaning on the counter with a grin.

“Well, what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady even as my heart raced.

“I delivered,” he said casually, though the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

“Congratulations,” I said warmly, matching his grin despite myself. “Eighth place, right?”

“That’s right.” He leaned closer, his grin softening into something a little more intimate. “And now I’m here to confirm our deal.”

“Our deal?” I asked, feigning ignorance just to tease him.

Franco let out a mock groan, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You promised to celebrate if I scored points.”

“Did I?” I asked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a flutter through my chest. “Don’t make me beg.”

Behind him, a small group of customers was watching the interaction with barely-contained excitement. One braver fan held up a notebook. “Franco! Can you sign this?”

Without even looking back, Franco waved a hand in polite dismissal. “Not now, amigo.”

Another fan piped up, “Are you actually in here to buy something?”

Franco turned his head slightly, smirking. “Nah, just confirming plans. Way more important.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the customers exchanged incredulous looks. Turning my attention back to him, I tilted my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep my word. What’s the plan?”

“I’ll send you the details later,” Franco said, standing up straight. His voice softened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No backing out. You owe me one for carrying all those hats yesterday.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, my cheeks warming under his gaze.

“Good,” Franco said, stepping back with a wink.

Just as he turned to leave, the sharply-dressed Williams event manager appeared in the doorway, clipboard clutched tightly. “Franco! There you are. Hospitality, now. You’re already late.”

“On my way,” he said, before glancing back at me one last time. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

“See you,” I replied, my voice light but sincere.

With one final wink, he spun on his heel and strode out of the store, leaving a trail of astonished fans and a flustered me in his wake. As the door swung shut behind him, I caught sight of him being hurried across the paddock by the event manager, his confident stride unshaken.

…

The rooftop lounge was bathed in golden light, the glittering city skyline providing a stunning backdrop. The hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and bursts of laughter filled the air, creating the perfect atmosphere for celebration. Franco had done it—points for Williams, a solid achievement for the team and a personal milestone for him.

I hesitated as I stepped onto the terrace, smoothing down my black dress. The outfit wasn’t anything too fancy, but it felt a world apart from my usual paddock uniform. My nerves buzzed, not because of the party but because of who had insisted I come.

I spotted Franco near the balcony, his white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a drink in hand as he nodded politely at something a sponsor was saying. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes flicked over the crowd with purpose. When his gaze landed on me, his grin spread instantly, bright and unmistakably boyish.

“Excuse me,” he said abruptly to the group around him, his voice cutting through their chatter. Without waiting for their response, he made his way toward me, weaving through the crowd with ease.

“You made it,” he said, stopping in front of me, his green eyes scanning me like he was committing every detail to memory.

“I did,” I replied, my voice light. “And you’re not exactly hard to find.”

“I try to be memorable,” he teased, though his grin softened into something warmer. He took a step back, his gaze lingering. “You look... wow.”

“Wow?” I raised an eyebrow, though my cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

“Yeah, wow,” he said earnestly, as if the word itself wasn’t enough. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Is that your way of saying I usually look terrible?” I joked, tilting my head.

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean—no. You always look great, but this is... different. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed even more, and I let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I clean up when I have to,” he replied, his grin widening.

We stood near the edge of the terrace, the noise of the party fading into the background. Franco didn’t seem to notice the occasional glances or murmurs from other guests. His focus was entirely on me, his posture relaxed yet intent.

“So, what’s the verdict on this party?” I asked, gesturing slightly to the scene around us.

“Not bad,” he said with a shrug. “But it just got better.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re too much.”

Before he could reply, someone called his name from across the terrace. Franco turned briefly, offering a polite wave, but his attention snapped back to me almost instantly.

“Busy man,” I teased, my eyes sparkling.

“Not tonight,” he replied firmly.

But the interruptions kept coming. A Williams team member approached with a clipboard, another guest hovered nearby with a congratulatory drink in hand, and a photographer gestured for Franco to join a group photo. Each time, he handled it quickly, his attention darting back to me as soon as he could.

“Sorry,” he said after the third interruption, shaking his head. “That’s the last one. I swear.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, my tone teasing but understanding.

“Not really,” he admitted, his grin sheepish. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

My chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone, but before I could respond, another call of his name rang out. Franco sighed, glancing briefly toward the source.

“Want a drink?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost intimate amidst the bustling terrace.

“Sure,” I said, nodding.

Franco led me to the bar, keeping close as we moved through the crowd. He ordered for both of us without hesitation, handing me a glass of sparkling water when I mentioned I wasn’t drinking.

“To today,” he said, raising his glass.

“To eighth place,” I replied, clinking mine lightly against his.

“And to making this the best part of the night,” he added, his grin softening as he looked at me over the rim of his glass.

As we lingered by the bar, the interruptions became harder to ignore. A sponsor insisted on pulling Franco into another photo, while a team member gestured impatiently for him to join a group near the balcony. He handled each one politely but quickly, his focus always returning to me.

“You know,” I said after a particularly persistent interruption, “you’re kind of in demand tonight.”

“Let them wait,” he replied, his voice steady.

“They don’t seem like the waiting type,” I teased.

“Too bad,” he said, his grin unwavering. “I’ve got better company.”

My heart skipped at the conviction in his tone, but before I could respond, yet another call of his name rang out. This time, Franco sighed audibly, shaking his head.

“I think that’s my cue,” he said, glancing back at me. “To suggest we sneak out.”

“Sneak out of your own party?” I repeated, my brow lifting slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin returning. “Somewhere quieter. Just us.”

I hesitated, glancing around the bustling terrace. “Won’t people notice?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t really care.”

The quiet certainty in his voice made me smile. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

Franco led me toward a side exit at the edge of the terrace, his hand lightly brushing my back as we weaved through the thinning crowd. The rooftop celebrations carried on without a hitch, the laughter and clinking of glasses fading into the background as we slipped through the door.

“This way,” he said, holding the door open for me with a mischievous grin.

I stepped into a narrow stairwell, the dim emergency lights casting soft shadows on the walls. “We’re really doing this?”

“Of course,” Franco said, closing the door behind us. “What’s a celebration without a little adventure?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “This feels so dramatic. What, no rooftop helicopter getaway?”

“Next time,” he quipped, his grin widening as he started down the stairs.

The faint creak of the metal staircase echoed with each step, the quiet amplifying the flutter in my chest. By the time we reached the fire escape at ground level, the cool night air rushed in, refreshing and grounding.

“This is... a little ridiculous,” I said, glancing around at the empty alleyway we’d stepped into.

“Ridiculously fun,” Franco corrected, offering me his hand to help me down the last step.

I rolled my eyes but took it, his grip warm and steady. “Alright, what now?”

“Trust me,” he said, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. “I know the perfect spot.”

…

The city streets were quieter than I’d expected, the buzz of the race weekend giving way to a more subdued hum of nightlife. Franco walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried.

“Any preferences?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.

I shrugged, smiling. “Surprise me.”

He led me down a narrow side street, the glow of streetlights reflecting off the cobblestones. We stopped in front of a small, cozy shop with large windows and shelves of colorful bottles displayed inside.

“This place,” Franco said, nodding toward the door. “Best snacks and drinks you’ll find this late.”

The warm scent of freshly fried food greeted us as we stepped inside. Franco approached the counter like a man on a mission, ordering two plates of dumplings and two bottles of Ramune without hesitation.

I watched as he expertly popped the marble stopper on one of the sodas, the sound crisp and satisfying. He handed it to me with a grin. “Here. Best part of the whole drink.”

“You make it sound like magic,” I said, laughing as I took the bottle.

“It kind of is,” he replied, popping the second bottle for himself.

We carried our food and drinks outside, settling on a low wall just across the street. The city lights sparkled in the distance, the occasional hum of a passing car filling the quiet.

I picked up a dumpling, steam curling from its surface. “You really know how to celebrate, huh?”

“Hey, who needs champagne when you’ve got gyoza and Ramune?” Franco said, holding up his bottle in a mock toast.

I laughed, clinking my bottle lightly against his. “Cheers to that.”

The quiet of the street wrapped around us, a comforting hum of distant city life providing a soft backdrop as we lingered outside the noodle shop. Our conversation had slowed, dipping into a comfortable silence as we finished our meal. Franco turned his soda bottle in his hand, the faint clink of the marble stopper breaking the stillness.

He glanced at me, his gaze lingering a little too long. When I met his eyes, there was something unspoken there—warmth, maybe, or a kind of vulnerability that caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked softly, tilting my head.

“Nothing,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But then he hesitated, his fingers tightening around the bottle before he set it down beside him. “Actually... not nothing.”

My brow furrowed slightly as I waited, the weight of his pause pulling my attention fully to him.

“You ever feel like...” He trailed off, letting out a soft laugh, almost like he was laughing at himself. “Like you’re doing something incredible, something people would kill to do, but... it still feels like something’s missing?”

His words hit me with unexpected bluntness, the rawness in his tone making my chest tighten. I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. It’s like... you’re proud of it, but it’s not the whole picture. It’s not everything.”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Don’t get me wrong, I love driving. It’s my dream, always has been. But...” He exhaled, his eyes dropping briefly before flicking back to mine. “It can be... lonely sometimes. You’re surrounded by people, always moving, but you don’t really get to... connect. Not like this.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his words. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, his gaze steady on mine. “This. Talking to someone who isn’t asking about lap times or tire strategy. Someone who actually listens. It’s... rare.”

My chest tightened at his words, and I shifted slightly, my fingers toying with the edge of my sleeve. “It’s not just you,” I admitted, my voice quiet but steady. “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Like you’re doing something amazing, but... it’s still missing something.”

I hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the soda bottle in my hand. “I love working in F1. I really do. But... I miss my friends back home sometimes. Even though my colleagues are nice, it’s not the same. It’s hard to meet people you really connect with when you’re constantly on the move.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening. “Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

“I guess I never really expected to meet someone here...” I paused, searching for the right words. “...who it suddenly feels so easy with.”

He didn’t look away, his expression steady as if he understood exactly what I meant. “I get it,” he said softly. “More than you know.”

The air between us felt heavier now, thick with unspoken understanding. I met his eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was something grounding in the way he looked at me, like he wasn’t just hearing me but seeing me completely.

…

When we reached the hotel, I slowed to a stop, turning to face Franco just outside the entrance. He mirrored me, his hands slipping from his pockets as he stood a little closer than before.

“Well,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “this is me.”

“So it is,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

There was a beat of silence, the soft hum of the city filling the space between us. He looked at me, his green eyes studying my face like he was memorizing every detail.

“I wish I didn’t have to say goodnight,” he said quietly, his voice dropping to something softer, almost vulnerable.

My breath caught, the simplicity of his words hitting me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to respond, but the look in his eyes—the way his usual teasing warmth had melted into something so unguarded—rendered me speechless.

“I mean it,” he continued, his lips twitching into a small, self-deprecating smile. “This... tonight... I don’t want it to end.”

My chest tightened, a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite name. “Franco...”

“I know,” he said, cutting me off gently. His grin softened as he glanced down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “It’s just... it’s been a while since I felt this way. Since someone made me feel this way.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and unfiltered. My cheeks flushed, my heart pounding as the distance between us suddenly felt too much. I took a small step closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to say goodnight just yet.”

The tension in the air thickened, the playful energy we’d carried through the evening now replaced by something deeper, heavier, and undeniable. Franco’s hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing against my cheek as though he was afraid to break the moment. His touch was light, tentative, but the warmth of it sent a shiver down my spine.

He closed the remaining distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was soft at first, careful, like he was savoring a moment he didn’t want to rush. The hesitation melted away almost instantly, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other hand rested lightly on my waist. The kiss deepened, unhurried but intense, a perfect balance of passion and tenderness. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palms as my hands rested against his chest.

Franco tilted his head slightly, his lips moving against mine with a certainty that made my knees feel unsteady. Every movement felt deliberate, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every emotion he couldn’t quite articulate, into the kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, the world felt quieter, as though the night had paused just for us.

Franco’s thumb brushed against my cheek as he studied my face, his green eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name but didn’t need to.

“See you at the next race?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with hope and certainty all at once.

“For sure,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper but steady.

His lips curved into a slow, almost disbelieving smile, his hand lingering on my waist for a moment longer before he stepped back.

As I turned and stepped inside the hotel, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced down, my cheeks still warm. A message from Franco lit up my screen:

You’ve completely ruined me, you know that? Best night ever.

I smiled to myself, my heart still racing as the elevator doors closed.

…

I groggily blinked awake, the sunlight peeking through the hotel curtains. My head felt heavy, and for a moment, I debated rolling over and falling right back asleep. But then my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the faint vibration pulling me from the haze of sleep. I reached over, squinting at the screen as I unlocked it.

Three missed calls. A text from Alicia, my colleague, stood out at the top of the notifications.

Why the hell are you on Franco Colapinto’s Instagram story eating dumplings with him on the pavement???

I frowned, propping myself up slightly against the headboard. What?

My thumb hovered over the message before tapping it, and an attached screenshot filled the screen. I blinked at it, then blinked again, sitting up straighter.

There it was, in all its glory: a grainy yet oddly endearing photo of Franco and me, still dressed from last night, sitting on the street outside the noodle shop. Plates of gyoza were scattered between us, the remnants of our late-night feast. My laughter was frozen mid-moment, one hand holding one of the little snacks while the other gestured animatedly. Franco was grinning at me, his green eyes glinting under the dim streetlights.

The caption read: Late-night dining, five stars. 

I groaned, half in disbelief, half in embarrassment, as I clicked out of the screenshot and into Instagram itself. Sure enough, Franco’s story was still live. I stared at it for a moment, heat rising to my cheeks, before my phone buzzed again.

Another text from Alicia.

Is this what you do when you “stay late to lock up”? GIRL. DETAILS. NOW.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as I set the phone down. The embarrassment I’d expected to feel never fully settled in. Instead, a warmth bloomed in my chest, the memory of last night—the dumplings, the laughter, the kiss—playing back in my mind.

I sat back against the pillows, staring at the sunlight filtering through the curtains. My phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t a notification or a frantic message from Alicia. It was Franco.

Hope you’re not mad about the dumpling photo. Just wanted to remember the best night I’ve had in a while.

I smiled, the warmth in my chest spreading as I typed out a reply.

Not mad. But you owe me breakfast for making me Instagram famous.

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Deal. I’ll pick you up in 30.

I laughed softly, setting my phone down on the bedside table. Outside, the city was waking up, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was rushing to keep up with it. Instead, I let myself sink into the quiet, a lingering sense of joy wrapping around me like a blanket.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

sugar sugar rune x twst au word salad

“The heart is yours to take, but you must not allow yours to be taken.”

The concept of this AU borrows a lot of ideas from the animanga Sugar Sugar Rune! ^^ It’s an older shojo series that I always think of when Halloween season arrives. Sugar Sugar Rune is about two years witches who are best friends, Chocolat and Vanilla, who compete to capture the most hearts in the human world. Whoever is victorious will become queen of the Magical World—but with love comes danger. If their own hearts get stolen, then they can lose their lives.

I should add, I currently don’t intend to write a fic based on this, I just wanted to braindump my ideas out and speculate on how this AU would work.

And now, without further ado…!

I think a good place to start is to explain the key points about the world and other relevant lore! Then we will get into the characters. (No story spoilers though, this AU won’t follow the original plot of Sugar Sugar Rune to a T!)

So the Magical World of Sugar Sugar Rune is where all magical creatures, including witches and wizards, reside. In the Magical World, ecure (or hearts), crystallized emotions, serve as an energy source and currency. Mages must frequently venture into the Human World in order to "harvest "pick up"/harvest ecure since humans have the unique ability to regenerate their hearts even when already stolen. Contrasting humans, mages only have one heart. That means if a mage's heart is taken, they will surely die. When mages fall in love with one another, they exchange their hearts during their wedding vows. They have to be careful who they fall in love with, as they can literally "die of a broken heart" if their partner betrays them. It's ill-advised for a mage to fall in love with a human, as while humans lack the ability to "pick up" hearts, a mage has to voluntarily hand their heart over if they reach a certain point (the color red)

Speaking of red!! Ecure/hearts can come in various colors depending on the emotion associated with it. Each color (and thus emotion) is associated with a different value, which roughly aligns with the value of the Japanese yen. The values are, as follows:

Yellow or Jaune - surprise, fear (5 ecure)

Orange - love at first sight, crush, infatuation (300 ecure)

Green or Vert - friendship (350 ecure)

Rainbow - happiness, delight, amusement (500 ecure)

Pink or Rose - the beginning stages of love, sweet love (1000 ecure)

Purple or Violet - lust, forbidden love (2500 ecure)

Blue or Bleu - respect (3000 ecure)

Red or Rouge - passionate love (5000 ecure)

Black or Noir - hatred, jealousy (no known value, hurts mages) I think this works really well with the concept of Blot in Twst—

White or Blanc - innocence (no known value, purified black heart; has restorative or healing properties)

Besides serving as energy and currency, ecure are also a way of counting points for Queen Candidacy. In the Magical World, the ruler is determined not by birth by through a competition in which candidates compete to see who can collect the most ecure (I believe over the span of a year). In the original Sugar Sugar Rune, the two candidates are Vanilla and Chocolat. The former is shy, sweet, and sort of a crybaby, with her mother being the current queen. Chocolat is the daughter of the queen's former competitor and comes off as more of a brash tomboy.

So what I'm proposing for the Sugar Sugar Rune x Twst AU is :DD basically keep all the lore but replace the two protags with MALLEUS (as Vanilla) AND LEONA (as Chocolat). They won’t be besties like the original MCs were, but more like traditional rivals because it would be funny lmao

Malleus is the more regal and composed of the two (he is literally a crown prince), so he has that obvious parallel with Vanilla. Not only that, but he's more withdrawn and has deep insecurities about being alone (also similar to Vanilla). I think his reputation could play well into the AU as well; in the Magical World, everyone fears him so he’s used to being alone—but in the Human World, he’s beloved for being awkward and mysterious (reflecting the international Twst fandom’s adoration for the guy). Malleus would feel obligated to win to carry on his family’s legacy but also because he feels like if he doesn’t, he has nothing left. No friends, no people to keep at his side—but if he has the status of King, then he’ll have a whole nation looking to him. Since his mom is uh… “with the stars”, the current Magical World queen could be his grandmother, and Malleus may feel like he has that legacy to live up to.

Leona, like Chocolat, is the underdog. What he lacks in status (as crown prince) he makes up for in intelligence and charisma, which nets him many followers in the Magical World. He comes off as tough and hard to approach to humans who aren’t used to his demanding attitude though, so it puts him at a disadvantage in the competition. He’s very much the “bad boy” similar to how Chocolat wasn’t a traditionally girly girl, but it’s ultimately the heart of gold buried underneath his hard edges that will eventually put him toe-to-toe with Malleus. I think Leona’s reasoning for wanting to be King would be similar to what he expresses in his original source material—to prove himself worthy, regardless of the family or order he was born in. Maybe he was almost not considered to be a candidate at all and his brother Falena was supposed to compete? Or alternatively, Falena is Malleus’s real competitor but Leona snuck into the Human World as an upstart/self-imposed third entry 😂

Chocolat and Vanilla have a mentor mage in the Human World named Robin (who is a famous rock star fjsvwisnksks). He’s the one who explains things to them and serves as their guardian figure while they room together and study at a human school for the Queen Candidacy.

What I’m thinking is that Leona and Malleus will venture into the Human World under the guidance of… Crowley 🤡 LISTEN, IT WOULD BE FUNNY Crowley does a lot of the exposition in Twst, so he could reprise that role here. He is also vain and thinks highly of himself (but ultimately cherishes his students) like Robin. Picture Crowley having to mediate between Leona and Malleus fighting every second of the day while living together—

That’s honestly all we need to replace to get the AU rolling. If we want to, we could expand the Queen (King now I guess) Candidacy to have more candidates. Then maybe the other Twst characters could also participate but the story could still center on Malleus and Leona as the two to “keep an eye on”/audience favorites.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this 🤔 but I do think this could be a fun AU for like. Yume/self insert scenarios so you can angst about whether your feelings are real or fabricated so [insert mage of choice here] can harvest ya like a plant… Or angst about not being able to be with [insert mage of choice here] because they might literally perish… Many possibilities!

[olee]

Contigo | Enzo Vogrincic

(Spanglish)

The city of Madrid was enveloped in a quiet stillness as the sun began to rise on a Sunday morning. You had been in a relationship with Enzo for nearly a year now, but lately, his busy schedule of conferences and interviews had left you feeling disconnected and unmotivated. Sensing the need to break out of this monotony, you decided to embark on a solo adventure and take the metro to El Rastro, a bustling open-air market that had always piqued your curiosity. With a sense of anticipation, you stepped onto the train and began your journey to the vibrant market, hoping to find some inspiration in the lively atmosphere.

Upon checking your WhatsApp, you saw a message from Enzo that greeted you with "Buenos días". You replied with a smiley face, and he responded by asking, "estás bn?". In response, you expressed your longing by typing "nada, te extraño".

After exploring the famous open-air market, El Rastro, you made your way back to your apartment for a well-deserved rest. You decided to take a long nap to recharge your energy and prepare for the rest of your day.

At 11 pm, when you were just about to call it a day, you heard a sudden knock on your apartment door. Curiosity piqued, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole to see who it was. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Enzo, your boyfriend, standing outside with a bucket overflowing with beautiful roses. You couldn't resist the urge to open the door immediately and bask in the sight of his charming smile and the sweet fragrance of the roses.

He embraces your entire being, lifting you up against the wall. His lips caress your nose, then move to your soft lips, then to your delicate neck, and finally back to your lips once more. You feel his touch all over your body, sending shivers down your spine.

~

You find yourself sitting on the couch of your apartment with Enzo. After exchanging some kisses, he gently runs his fingers through your hair and places soft kisses on your cheeks. As you gaze into his beautiful honey-colored eyes, you suggest taking a stroll through the lively streets of Madrid to breathe in some fresh air. Enzo readily agrees, and you both set out to explore the vibrant city together.

As you walk hand-in-hand through the enchanting streets of Madrid, the city's vibrant energy surrounds you. Enzo breaks the serene atmosphere with a gentle inquiry: "¿Está todo bien?" You respond with a sigh, your emotions spilling out. "Es que... llevo meses sin verte y lo único que hago es trabajar, comer, y dormir. No es que tenga amistades; es que... a veces siento que te necesito, y odio sentir eso."

Unexpectedly, Enzo opens up, revealing his own struggles. "Sabes… me he estado sintiendo igual. Vos entendés que todo ha sido complicado. Mill(ch)ones de entrevistas y ahora con un nuevo papel—” Your curiosity peaks, and you interrupt, “Espera… ¿cómo que un nuevo papel? Joder Enzo, pero, ¿por qué no me lo has dicho? Joderrr… Felicidades!”

In a burst of pride for his upcoming film, you embrace Enzo tightly and shower him with kisses under the warm glow of a streetlamp in a romantic corner of Madrid. As he reciprocates the affection, he gazes intensely into your eyes. You playfully kiss the tip of his nose and delicately trace your fingers over his eyebrows, savoring the moment. Softly, you express your pride, whispering words of admiration, and seal the sentiment with another tender kiss.

Enzo, caught in the embrace of your pride and affection, responds with a tender smile. The soft glow of the streetlamp accentuates the warmth in his eyes as he holds you close. In a voice filled with love and gratitude, he whispers, "Gracias, mi amor. Having you by my side makes every achievement sweeter." As he gazes into your eyes, a silent understanding and a shared passion for each other's successes deepen the romantic connection between you two.

[the-offside-rule]

Alexia Putellas (FCBarcelona) - Capí

Requested: no, literally just an idea

Prompt: Y/n makes her childhood dreams come true

Warnings: none

As a young girl, Y/n had only one dream; to play for FC Barcelona Femení. She admired many players, Jenni Hermoso being one of her all time favourites, but none came close to Alexia Putellas. She watched every match, memorized every highlight, and even taped up posters of Alexia on her bedroom walls. When she got accepted into La Masía at 12, she couldn’t believe her luck. It was her first step towards a dream that felt so far out of reach, and yet… every training session made it feel a little closer. Then came the day she met the Alexia Putellas.

Y/n fiddled with her Barcelona jacket, trying her best to remember any form of Spanish she had learned in the few months she was there, but with Alexia soon approaching, nothing sprang to mind. "Señora Putellas, es un honor." She stammered awkwardly, half-excited, half-intimidated, as she put out her hand for Alexia to shake.

"Señora? Estoy tan vieja?" Alexia chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she corrected her, Y/n's teammates and coaches chuckling at her overly polite manner. "Alexia." She smiled, shaking her hand. She said some other things, but she said them too quickly for her to understand. The one thing she did get? "Quieres un foto conmigo?" Y/n nodded as she looked over to the photographer who snapped a photo of Alexia with a couple of the kids, but closest to her was Y/n of course.

Years passed, and the language that once felt foreign became second nature. Y/n had grown not just in age but in skill, and she finally made the senior team; a dream come true.

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The locker room buzzed with nervous energy as Y/n laced up her trainers, her fingers trembling slightly. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her excitement under control as she made her way to the gym where the others were. Just as she stepped in, the world seemed to pause. The other women turned to glance at her before turning back to get back to their conversations. As Y/n stood awkwardly at the door, she froze and there, walking towards her, was Alexia, her captain, her idol. Her heart raced, but she stood a little straighter, hoping to look every bit the player she had worked so hard to become. When Alexia reached her, she extended a hand, a warm smile on her face. "Y/n, verdad?"

Y/n’s mouth opened, and for a second, she struggled to find words. "Sí, sí. Soy Y/n." Her words felt thick on her tongue, as though her excitement might trip them up. Y/n could hardly believe it; Alexia Putellas shaking her hand like she’d never met her before. But that wasn’t right, was it?

"Es un placer conocerte. Soy Alexia." Alexia said, her voice smooth and familiar. It took Y/n a moment to remember how to speak, let alone in Spanish. "Y yo tambien, pedo no es la primera vez que nos conocemos." Y/n replied, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Alexia’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her curiosity piqued.

"En serio?" Alexia asked, crossing her arms in an easy, casual stance. "Cuándo nos conocimos?" Y/n felt her cheeks heat up as she reached for her phone. "Cuando era más joven, era parte de La Masía. Un día, tuve la suerte de verte y bueno, fue un momento inolvidable." Alexia chuckled, looking at her with newfound interest. "Tienes una foto?"

Y/n fumbled for her phone, scrolling quickly through her social media until she found what she was looking for; her very first post, a faded photograph of her younger self, gawking beside a young Alexia at La Masía. It had been her profile picture for years before she decided she had looked different and needed a change. She showed the screen to Alexia, who squinted at the photo for a second before her eyes widened in recognition.

"Dios mío!" Alexia exclaimed, laughing in delight, turning around to the videographers who were there to capture Y/n's first training session for Barca TV. "Mira cómo hemos cambiado. Eras solo una niña." Y/n grinned, barely containing her excitement. "Sí, y me dijiste que te llamara Alexia, no Señora Putellas." She teased. "Oh, sí, las dos éramos tan jóvenes." Alexia grinned. "Me llamaste Señora Putellas? En serio?"

Y/n nodded, grinning at the memory. "No sabía mucho español entonces, y ‘Señora’ era lo único que me parecía respetuoso." Alexia chuckled, clearly delighted by the memory. "Es una pena que no recuerde haberte conocido. Cuantos años tienes?" She glanced at Y/n, eyes twinkling with pride. "Tengo dieceseis años." Y/n replied. "No pensé que acabarías aquí tan pronto. Eras como Gavi,huh?" Y/n chuckled. Gavi had made his debut that year with the senior team too.

With a gesture, Alexia motioned toward the field. "Ven, vamos. Te toca demostrar lo que has aprendido desde entonces." Y/n followed, almost in a daze. But Alexia’s calm energy grounded her as they approached the other players in the warm-up circle. "Quieres ser mi compañera en los ejercicios?" Alexia asked, her tone almost as if she were giving her a challenge. "En serio?" Y/n’s eyes lit up. "Sería un honor."

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The atmosphere in the stadium was electric as Y/n prepared for her first Champions League game. The roar of the crowd sent a mix of excitement and nerves racing through her veins. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. Just then, Alexia approached her, noticing her unease. With a reassuring smile, she wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. "Relájate, es solo otro partido." She said, her voice warm and steady. Y/n nodded, though the tension still lingered.

As the team gathered in the dressing room, Y/n tried to stay to herself, putting on her headphones and immersing herself in music. She sipped on her cup of Yerba mate, a ritual she had picked up from her teammates, letting the calming warmth wash over her. She glanced around, hoping Alexia wouldn’t come to check on her, giving her the space she needed to gather her thoughts.

When it was time for warm-ups, Y/n spotted her parents near the dugout. She waved excitedly, their presence giving her an extra boost of confidence. As she joined the others on the field, the familiar rhythm of the game began to soothe her nerves.

The match kicked off, and Y/n watched intently, absorbing every moment. The game was intense, and the energy in the stadium was palpable. When the second half began, her heart raced as she heard her name called for a substitution.

As she stepped onto the pitch, adrenaline surged through her as the fans screamed and chanted her name. Within minutes, the ball found its way to her. She and Aitana passed it back and forth before Y/n began a fearless sprint up towards the net. Two defenders left to stop her, God knows they couldn't. Her foot launched back and with a determined strike, she sent it into the back of the net. The crowd erupted, and in that instant, she felt invincible. Without a second thought, she sprinted towards Alexia, who stood at the sideline, her eyes wide with pride.

Y/n reached her, exhilaration bubbling over. "Lo hice!" She exclaimed, the words tumbling out in excitement. Alexia pulled her into a tight embrace, a beaming smile on her face. "Lo hiciste! stoy tan orgullosa de ti, Chiquitita!" She replied, her joy infectious. In that moment, surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the warmth of her captain’s support, Y/n knew she had truly arrived.

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The sun was splitting the stones, Y/n was sick, and this training session was not helping whatsoever, but Y/n was determined to prove herself. She lunged into tackles, pressing hard and going after every ball as if it were the final seconds of a match. At this rate, she didn't know the line where her being good at defending and her being too aggravated about being sick, and so, the aggression became clearer through each tackle. As Vicky approached her with the ball, Y/n squared, ready to tackle only to be rushed past, leaving her to fall to the ground. She groaned into the pitch, unbelievably disappointed with herself. She barely noticed Alexia walking over until her captain placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Tranquila, Y/n." Alexia said softly. "Lo último que queremos es que una de las chicas se lesione." Y/n took a deep breath, Alexia’s words settling over her. She knew her captain was right; there was no need to overexert herself. "Vale, Capí. Lo siento." She nodded, adjusting her intensity and finding a better rhythm with the team

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It was the Clasico. Barcelona, of course, was winning by two goals, but Y/n was looking to make it three. As she was running up the pitch, she felt a surge of pain in her ankle, followed by a shove, causing her to stumble to the ground. She looked around, seeing Olga Carmona walking away and the referee handing her a yellow card. Although her ankle was absolutely killing her, frustration flared, and she jumped to her feet, ready to confront her. Just as she took a step forward, Alexia was there, stepping between them and placing a gentle hand on Y/n’s arm.

"No vale la pena, Y/n. Deja que el fútbol hable por ti." Alexia said, her voice calm but firm. "Capí, me hizo falta!" Y/n protested as Alexia pushed her back. "Eres luchadora de la UFC? Por qué buscas pelea? Métete en el área para el tiro libre, vamos." Y/n hesitated, feeling the fire simmer down as Alexia held her gaze. With a deep breath, she nodded, letting the moment pass. She walked away, grateful that her captain had stopped her from making a mistake.

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The stage lights were blinding, and Y/n felt the weight of the Women’s Ballon d’Or in her hands as she looked out over the crowd. Her heart raced with overwhelming gratitude and pride, but most of all, disbelief. She had dreamed of this moment countless times, but now that it was real, it felt like a dream all over again.

Taking a steadying breath, she leaned into the microphone. "Thank you, everyone. To my coaches, my teammates. Every one of you has been my strength, and without you, this moment wouldn’t have been possible." Y/n smiled. "To my mother and father who never left my side, I dedicate this to you. To the culers and to all the little girls around the world dreaming of holding this award, this is your award as much as mine, i gràcies pel teu suport."

Her gaze drifted to Alexia, standing near the front with the brightest smile, her eyes shining with pride. Y/n’s heart swelled, and she took another breath, her voice softening as she spoke directly to her inspiration.

"But there is one person who helped me develop as a player more than any coach, friend, or teammate has ever done, and I am pretty sure I wouldn't be up here without her guidance. Growing up, my dream was to be like Alexia Putellas. She was my hero, I based my style of play on her before I even developed my own, so in my football DNA, she is rooted so deeply into it."

"I remember on my first day of training with the senior team 3 years ago, she was the first one to actually say hello. She has pulled me out of fights both on and off the pitch. She has calmed me before big games. She truly is what you would envision a Captain to be." The crowd quieted, hanging onto every word as Y/n glanced at Alexia again, the emotion in her voice evident. "Standing on this stage, where my hero stood to accept her Ballon d’Ors, it’s the greatest honour I could ever imagine. And even if I never win another one of these, or if I never won one to begin with, I’d be happy because I got to play alongside my childhood idol. Visca el Barça!"

The crowd responded with a wave of applause, but all Y/n could see was the tear in Alexia’s eye, her smile even brighter. As Y/n left the podium, Alexia stepped forward, meeting her halfway and pulling her into a tight embrace. "Estoy tan orgullosa de ti." Alexia whispered, her voice filled with pride. "Gracias, Capí." Y/n replied, barely audible above the applause. "He recorrido un largo camino desde La Masía."

[keibea]

this is just one object from my side of the cottage picnic collab that i'm doing with @johziii. due to some personal things, i wasnt able to finish it at the same time jo did, and then i wasn't able to finish this set at all. but today i got a weird burst of energy (the adhd kind) and finished this piece. i'm hoping to slowly (and i mean slowly, i still don't know if i can finish this set yet, but im going to try!) release things when i finish them. thank you to jo, you are such an incredible human and i am so grateful for your patience, love and support ❤️❤️

her side can be found here. (spoiler: it's amazing)

DOWNLOAD (sfs) // MIRROR (mediafire)

tou - cc page

more information below the cut;

(there are 2 versions. this is for sims 3)

wall embroidery deco;

recolourable (2 channels) with 7 embroidery overlays

cost: 15

found in paintings/posters

polycount;

HLOD: 1567 verts, 2112 polys

MLOD: 969 verts, 1022 polys

floor/table embroidery deco;

exact same as above, but found in misc deco

i am a bit rusty, so if i've forgotten anything or there are any issues or problems, please let me know :)

[local-maneater]

Xenovert (PSD Link) - a term for when one's personality traits &/or the way one preserves energy is unable to be described through more average means, or "goes beyond" typical standards.

etymology: xeno-, -vert - introvert, extrovert, etc.

flag help (stripes): @winecovered

[ID: a rectangular flag with 5 wavy stripes, with the waves forming a curved triangle at the top centre & cutting off at the bottom corners. the sizes go as such from top centre to bottom corners: medium, thick, medium, medium, thick. the colours go as such from top centre to bottom corners: off-white orange, light pink, dull pink, dark dull pink, dark dull purple. End ID]

[merlucide]

What’s their taste in music?

notes: playing around with sizing hehe-

characters: Barou, Sendou, Chigiri, Bachira, Reo, Oliver, Hiori, Otoya

barou shoei

classical music 100%

Cmon my dude mediates- how obvious does it needa be? I feel like piano would be his favorite but also really likes cello or other deep string instruments. He normally just puts on the default classical music playlists lmao. Though I do think he would like Red hot chilli peppers for some reason. Definitely hard no on metal or anything really with intense drums. He can’t stand the loud aggressive music, he thinks it’s unhinged and frenetic.

sendou shuto

sendou listens to rap cus he thinks it makes him cooler💀 I can see it so clearly omg- 

Listens to Eminem obviously, and his favorite song from him is rap god. His hype song is NEW ORLEANS by BROCKHAMPTON. He feels so badass listening to it lmao. Though what he really likes is pop, Brittney spears, Dua lipa, Lady Gaga, etc etc.

chigiri hyoma 

Okay I can see Chigiri liking a few types of music for like different moods yk.

I think he’d like XXXTENTACION, he listens to his more ‘intense’ songs when he runs. He likes YuNg BrAtZ, when he wants to listen to depressing music he likes Orlando. 

He’d like rock too, The white stripes and Nirvana would be his go toos.

When he’s getting really into his workout he puts on Disturbed and occasionally SlipKnot when he’s tryna push himself.

ALSO I CAN 100% SEEING HIM LISTENING TO SLEEP TOKEN?!? OMG YEAH???

(RIP XXX.)

bachira meguru

Hear me out okay.

Voicaloid. 

IK IK- I think Bachira would really like the fast pace and excitement in their songs. He just likes Hyperpop, it’s like an energy boost he don’t need anymore energy

His all time favorites are Rin Rin Signal and Poppippo.

ALSO THE LIVING TOMBSTONE. UGH HE WOULD LIKE THEM RIGHT???? Discord would be on loop 24/7 are u kidding me

mikage reo

I think that since he grew up classy n rich he’d listen to classical music and such. he really likes Violin/Viola. Listening to it brings him great comfort and peace. Reo really likes Jazz too. Obviously Reo explored other types of music to see what else there is .definitely did it as an act of ‘rebellion’ lmao-  He isn’t really a fan of metal or rock but likes Alt. I can see him listening to The neighborhood or Radiohead. He also likes Adele.

aiku oliver

likes the more chill stuff, like Noah Kahan or Big thief. He’s a pretty laid back guy and doesn’t feel the need to rage through music lmao- Though I can see him liking Chase Atlantic. And I know for a fact if you put on any cunty music he’d know all of the lyrics to the songs. Ayesha Erotica, Chase Icon, or even porn-ish singerslike cupcakke he’d know the words to em💀

hiori yo

..

death metal.

..

Like we talking cannibal corpse, the fallen prophecies, and on calm days, SlipKnot.

he gotta cope somehow ig😶

Like you could ask him what he’s listening too and expect him to listen to like Drake or sum and he’s like ‘oh I’m listening to Murderous Rampage by Cannibal Corpse’. 

.. 😶

Like dawg wut😭

otoya eita 

he’d listen to Drake, Lil Uzi Vert and Kanye West without doubt. 

Pls he’s the most basic, generic, un-unique ‘frat boy’ ever, of course he’d listen to them. He thinks he all hot stuff jamming out to em, all dripped out in his basic ass fit, and ugly beanie, ew. Ugh I hate this hoe🙄 (jk he’s bbg 🤭) also I’m not hating on any of these artists, I like their music- DONT TAKS NUFFIN PERSONAL PLS

lemme know if u wanna pt2 or whatever mkay

made March 17th 2024

[ermesskiss]

what music I think jjk adults would listen to

✧ ft: satoru, suguru, nanami, shoko, choso, higuruma, toji, sukuna, and kenjaku ✧ a/n: been thinking about this for a minute, and I decided to write out my opinions/hcs

jjk student version here + jjk character playlist works here

· · ───────────── 𖥸 ────────────── · ·

✦ gojo

➥ Gojo is a very laid-back and fun guy, so I think he would listen to music that has that same energy

➥ He kinda reminds me of those moms who listen to the overplayed songs on the radio and always sing them, I don’t know to explain it, but that's him

➥ I think that he gets his song recs from his students in a attempt to bond with them

songs

♪ Heaven To Me: Tyler, The Creator ♪ Chanel: Frank Ocean ♪ Died and Came Back: Lil Uzi Vert ♪ Pop Style: Drake ♪ Wake Up in the Sky: Gucci Mane ft. Bruno Mars

───────────────────────────────

✦ geto

➥ I think Geto listens to a little bit of everything, alternative, rock, rap, R&B,  and hip-hop. I can’t really picture him strictly listening to rock and alt. It doesn’t feel right

➥ As Geto got older, I think his music taste changed. He still likes everything, but he leaned towards one genre rather than several

➥ When Mimi and Nana show Geto their favorite music, he adds the one he likes to his own playlist, and vice versa

songs

♪ Sextape: Deftones ♪ Passion Fruit: Drake ♪ Rental: Brockhampton ♪ 3005: Childish Gambino ♪ Even Flow: Pearl Jam

───────────────────────────────

✦ shoko

➥ I think the music that she listens to is very mellow and relaxing but might have some sad undertone to it from time to time

➥ She gives me older music vibes from the 70s to the 90s. Like Fleetwood Mac, ABBA, and Sade. I can’t see her listening to newer music

➥ I think she listens to more female artists than men; it’s not intentional. She does enjoy songs from men, but it’s a pattern. I also think that Shoko is a big fan of The Cranberries; I am a soul believer in this

songs

♪ Sunday: The Cranberries ♪ Bette Davis Eyes: Kim Carnes ♪ Fade Into You: Mazzy Star ♪ Landslide: Fleetwood Mac ♪ So Far Away: Carole King

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✦ nanami

➥ Student Nanami was emo, so he definitely listened to My Chemical Romance

➥ He started listening to more rock when he grew out of his emo phase. He prefers light rock rather than heavy

➥ When he gets sick of music, he puts on a podcast about business/the economy, or world events OR OR audiobooks

songs

♪ Helena: My Chemical Romance ♪ I Miss You: blink-182 ♪ Dust in the Wind: Kansas ♪ Dancing In the Dark: Bruce Springsteen ♪ Rocket Man: Elton John

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✦ choso

➥ He’s giving off rock and metal vibes, also like sub-genres of those

➥ His go-to music is rock, but I definitely think he listens to other music, something like R&B and hip-hop

➥ Like the great sibling, he is, he always gives Yuji the aux and listens to his song recs

songs

♪ Granite: Sleep Token ♪ Generation Dead: Five Finger Death Punch ♪ Enter Sandman: Metallica ♪ Chop Suey!: System Of A Down ♪ War Inside My Head: Suicidal Tendencies

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✦ higuruma

➥ Similar to Shoko, I think he also listens to older music rather than newer stuff, but it’s not because he doesn’t enjoy new music; he is just too busy and stressed to figure out what artist he likes and just stays to what he knows

➥ He’s a big Radiohead fan, and maybe The Smiths, too? Music that's kind of sad and angst, yk?

➥ Genre-wise, I think he would like a little of everything if he could sit down and enjoy music.

songs

♪ Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now: The Smiths ♪ Karama Police: Radiohead ♪ Wild Sex (In The Working Class): Oingo Boingo ♪ Eyes Without A Face: Billy Idol ♪ What’s Up?: 4 Non Blondes

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✦ toji

➥ Definitely listens to divorce dad music

➥ Drinks a nice cold beer while listening to Nickelback

➥ I think because Toji doesn't think highly of himself, I can see him listening to self-loathing music and music that relates to anger or internal turmoil

songs

♪ How You Remind Me: Nickelback ♪ Pancake Land: Element Eighty ♪ The Man Who Sold the World: Nirvana ♪ It’s Been Awhile: Stained ♪ Crawling: Linkin Park

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✦ sukuna

➥ So, at first, I was sure he would listen to heavy metal and rock because he has such an aggressive personality, but after I gave it some more thought canon, Sukuna would hate it. Music or noise that loud and obnoxious would annoy him.

➥ Acknowledging the fact that he was born in the Heian era and during that time, they listened to Gagaku (court music), which is either instrumental or vocal. It’s calming and relaxing in contrast to his persona

➥ Or he hates music altogether, idk; he's a grumpy old man. Everything pisses him off

songs

♪ Menace: Five Finger Death Punch ♪ Monster: Skillet ♪ Bullet With Butterfly Wings: The Smashing Pumpkins ♪ Push: Matchbox Twenty ♪ Geisha: Anthony Davilio

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✦ kenjaku

➥ Since he's over a thousand years old, imma say he has a very diverse taste of music and probably listens to a little bit of everything. If I were to choose what genre he likes most, I would say rock, both light and heavy

➥ Kenjaku enjoys listening to Marilyn Mason and Oingo Bingo. Marilyn Mason because he’s Marilyn Mason (derogatory) and Oingo Bingo because of their surrealist music, which I think Kenjaku would find them entertaining

➥ Listens to music that feeds into his delusions, motivating him to continue with his vision of the world he wants

songs

♪ Weird science: Oingo Boingo ♪ Aerials: System Of A Down ♪ Break My Stride: Matthew Wilder ♪ The Beautiful People: Marilyn Mason ♪ Everybody Wants To Rule The World: Tears For Fears

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✧ I currently have over 1.9k liked songs, so hopefully, there is enough diversity in songs and artists. i was going to do yuki, but it was stressing me out. Maybe in the future, I'll add hers. There is definitely more I wanted to add but my mind can only contain so many thoughts, unfortunately. ✧ Anyway, I want to hear other people's opinions and/or if people agree or disagree!!

[forsinnersandsaintsalike]

What modern music would they listen to?

Billy loomis

1. Alternative Rock / Post-Punk
Revival

Artists like:

Bring Me The Horizon - Their aggressive sound and deep, haunting lyrics would resonate with Billy. Songs like "Can You Feel My Heart" or "Drown" would reflect his internal turmoil.

Royal Blood - Their dark, gritty rock would match Billy's mood.
Their heavy sound and minimalistic, intense vibe would be right up his alley.

Nothing But Thieves - A more melodic side of alternative rock, but still with an edge. Billy would appreciate their emotionally charged lyrics and the intensity in their music.

2. Industrial / Electronic Rock

Artists like:

Nine Inch Nails (still in his rotation) - Trent Reznor's industrial sound, which mixes heavy electronics with metal, would still be one of Billy's go-to artists. "The Perfect Drug" or "Hurt" would capture his dark side.

Ghostemane - Blending industrial metal, rap, and hardcore, Ghostemane's music would resonate with Billy's darker personality. Songs like "Mercury: Retrograde" or "Abyss" would reflect his chaotic, intense energy.

3. Emo / Post-Hardcore

Artists like:

Lil Peep - His blend of emo, rap, and lo-fi would appeal to Billy, especially the vulnerability and sadness that comes through in songs like "Save That Shit" or "Awful Things."

Bring Me The Horizon (again)

- As they evolve into a more emo-inspired sound, Billy would still be a fan of their darker tracks like "Sleepwalking."

Poppy - Her experimental mix of pop, metal, and electronic would fit Billy's unpredictable tastes, especially her darker, more industrial music.

4. Horrorcore Rap

Artists like:

Ghostface Killah - The name alone would intrigue Billy, and the gritty, raw storytelling and dark themes in his music would fit his vibe.

Suicideboy$ - Their somber, atmospheric beats paired with haunting lyrics would align perfectly with Billy's mood and sense of isolation. Songs like
"Paris" or "Kill Yourself" would resonate with his darker inclinations.

Billy's Playlist Might Include:

Bring Me The Horizon - Can You Feel My Heart

Royal Blood - Out of the Black

Nothing But Thieves - Amsterdam

Nine Inch Nails - Hurt 

Ghostemane - Mercury: Retrograde

Lil Peep - Awful Things

Poppy - I Disagree

Stu Macher

1. Pop Punk / Punk Rock

Artists like:

Machine Gun Kelly - With his pop-punk sound, MGK's tracks like "Bloody Valentine" or "My Ex's Best Friend" would appeal to Stu's chaotic side while still having a bit of fun.

Yungblud - With his energetic and punk-inspired style, Yungblud would be a favorite.
His anthems of rebellion and emotional outbursts in songs like "Parents" and "I Love You, Will You Marry Me" would match Stu's playful side.

State Champs - Their blend of pop-punk and post-punk would fit Stu's energetic personality, with songs like "Secrets" and "Deadly Conversation" giving him the loud, high-energy vibes he craves.

2. Alt-Rock / Indie Rock

Artists like:

The 1975 - Their mix of indie rock and electronic influences would fit Stu's more unpredictable side, with catchy tunes like "Love It If We Made It" or "If You're Too Shy (Let Me Know)."

Arctic Monkeys - With their alternative rock sound, songs like "Do I Wanna Know?" or
"Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?" would appeal to his fun-loving side, while still having an edge.

Tame Impala - Stu would love their psychedelic vibes and danceable beats, with songs like
"The Less I Know the Better" fitting his carefree, spontaneous personality.

3. Alternative Hip-Hop

Artists like:

Travis Scott - With his wild, energetic music and trap influences, Stu would get hyped to tracks like "SICKO MODE" and "Goosebumps." His music would give Stu the feeling of being invincible.

Lil Uzi Vert - His combination of emo-rap and catchy beats would appeal to Stu's fun, rebellious side, especially songs like "XO Tour Llif3" and "Money Longer."

4. Indie / Garage Rock

Artists like:

Black Lips - Their garage rock and post-punk vibes would fit

Stu's wild, chaotic energy.
Songs like "Bad Kids" or "0
Katrina!" would match his unpredictable, carefree nature.

Wolf Alice - Their grunge and alt-rock influence would be a hit with Stu, especially songs like
"You're a Germ" and "Bros."

Stu's Playlist Might Include:

Machine Gun Kelly - Bloody
Valentine

Yungblud - Parents

State Champs - Secrets

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Tame Impala - The Less I Know the Better

Travis Scott - SICKO MODE

Lil Uzi Vert - XO Tour Llif3

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC caine and kinger x reader that fidgets with everything

Kinger and Caine x reader who fidgets!

going to knock this request out then im going to go make a snack ehehehe then i might go draw for a while!! im a little behind on art stuff since i was sick last week and!! idk i dont have a good excuse on why i need to jump right in i just like having extra art posts saved as a backlog (??)

CAINE:

oh i just know hes going to get you so many little toys and such so you have something to do with your hands. he can pull just about anything out of thin air thanks to him being the ringmaster; so youre never in short supply of something to play with! but if you fidget in other ways (ex. bouncing leg, hair twirling, ect) i think he would offer to take you on a walk around the grounds! look hes even walking on the ground by your side! he never sets himself on the ground! i dont know.. i just think that little nod of him walking on the ground beside you is a sweet touch.. shrugs.. sometimes lets you mess with his cane or hat if you want it specifically.. asks a lot of questions in the beginning and quickly grows an understanding of why you do it; be it anxiety, extra energy, or stimming, hes going to lend you a hand and wont say anything mean about it!

KINGER:

i like to think he also fidgets, comes with having the anxiety (coming from someone who has terrible anxiety) but also to stim; usually i think he messes with his hands... clasping them together and rubbing them, curling his fingers around each other, drumming his fingers, ect ect... so he totally gets it that you also fidget! (with accidental rizz) he asks if you want to hold his hands to fidget with them, doesnt understand why your cheeks have gone a little red since it was an innocent offer. will let you mess with the fur of his coat while the two of you are sitting in the pillow fort... hell i think he would let you have one of the spare pillows and fiddle with it! i think he collects things (dad trait yk?) so he might let you go into his room and take a look and see what catches your eye! lets you keep the thing so you can use it as an impromptu fidget toy. vert sweet and understanding about it