#For all my writers this can absolutely be platonic! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rivalswrites · 2 months ago

Note

Hello :3 How would Rivals characters react to their s/o being famous and appearing in ads and stuff (you choose which characters :3) I love your writing and cant wait for more😼

Them and you being famous!

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Tysmm! I don't think you guys get how much it means to me when you guys tell me you guys like my writing (I imagine it's the same with other writers?)

I'm feeling the burn out due to school being back in session, but we prevail!! Who's excited for season 1?

Masterlist

She loves it, and is absolutely your number one supporter! Definitely the type to never skip anything you're in online- even if it's an ad for something she's so not interested in. And she's one hundred percent got some sort of merchandise of you, like a cut out magazine that's hung up on her wall with little hearts around your face.

Ever the supporter, she loves coming on set and watching you work. Be it a photoshoot, ad, or film of some sort, she's always there to support and cheer you on (she has definitely got in trouble from the people in charge for being a little loud).

Definitely a bragger, telling anyone who'll listen (poor tippy-toe) about her amazingly beautiful partner that's world famous (in her heart). Can't help but gush over you, it's almost natural at this point to her. Anyone who knows her, knows you and has seen at least one film you're in.

When the day is over and you get home, she's ready to help you relax! She's got a nice warm bath already run, a warm towel ready when you're done, and warm cuddles and movies while you both eat whatever junk you want (to hell with your manager and supposedly “needed” diet).

Overall: She is so supportive, and no matter what it is will be there to cheer you on and help wherever she can!

Fame isn't something huge to him- rather it's not something he pays much attention to. Status doesn't do much for his opinions to people, but that doesn't mean he won't look at your career.

He definitely has a magazine or poster of you in his main office somewhere, even if it seems a little inappropriate for a king to seem like such a fanboy. His sister will not let this go, and most certainly teases him about it.

Even though he's a busy man, he always makes time for you. He'll go to red carpets with you if that's something you do, he'll sit down and watch movies you star in during his free time. He'll even go out of his way to watch a dumb laundry ad you make a two second appearance in, because he loves you so.

While he works hard, he knows you work just as hard as he does- and he respects that. At the end of the day, the two of you will sit and relax with a nice dinner, cuddling up after in silence. He'll probably be reading a book while you do whatever you want- as long as you stay by his side until bedtime. Sometimes he'll stray from the pages and to your face and he'll think to himself- yeah, they're gorgeous, the world was right to make you famous.

Overall: He'll support your career from the sidelines, as much as he can. He loves you, and while he's busy, he makes time to see you bloom like a beautiful flower.

||•STRICTLY PLATONIC•||

She's totally freaking out when she finds out!! Like oh my gosh, her best friend/found family is famous? She knew she recognized you from somewhere, it was totally from that one movie you did! It's one of her favorites, you know.

All the time she'll ask you what it's like being famous like that, like yeah she is too but not like you are! Always asking questions about how the filming process of movies and even ads go.

Absolutely overjoyed when you invite her to join you on a photoshoot set, like omg yes she wants to see you strike some poses! She'll even try and copy you behind all the cameras and crew men, the smile on your face in those photos are definitely real. One time you asked her to join her for a photo and she basically popped like a balloon, she was so honored. (And yes, she reacted the same way when she saw those pictures were actually used in a promotion or magazine.)

Overall: She is so so supportive!! You're someone she looks up to and definitely has merchandise of you and posters up in her room.

He's used to it- fame. He's famous himself, why should he care if you are too? The mentality definitely isn't the best, but give him time- relationships are difficult for him. He'll get there eventually.

Has, and will always, go to red carpets with you- whether he got the invitation or you. And he only makes sure you two are in the best clothes money can buy (and he's got plenty to spare). The two of you are always the best dressed and most elegant people at the function.

All of your films or shows are on his watch list, and he watches them while he works. He's got an AI system that keeps track of any news about you (films, photoshoots, etc.) and notifies him about anything new. He's obsessed with you!

He definitely points you out in any type of media no matter where you are, and probably sends you a picture of it. Everyone around him is so tired of him pointing at a screen and yelling about his partner.

Will absolutely pay paparazzi to take pictures of you so he can keep them for himself - is that weird? Yes, but you probably do the same…

Overall: Loves your career and always keeps track of everything you do. Always supportive about whatever it is you do. Definitely the Internets otp.

Oh my god, yes! She gets you, and you get her!! The two of you definitely have each other's merch and often wear shirts with each other's face on it (paparazzi can't get enough of that).

Collaborations are always on the table, no matter what it may be. Photoshoots? Tell her what the theme is! Movie? She'd love a cameo! Want to do a collab song with her? It'll be the most cheesy romance song ever!

Your managers are so goddamn tired of you two asking for some sort of collaboration that they don't even check anymore- do whatever you want.

The Internet loves the two of you! Fan edits of you guys are insanely popular, especially when you guys do interviews together. Fan art and shitty fanfiction is extremely popular too, and it's adorable.

After long hours at work, the two of you sit on the couch in the most comfortable jammies you have and eat anything you want! Watching some god forsaken show with a horrible love triangle plot.

Overall: It's great, having someone by her side who knows how she feels about being famous. She loves hanging out with you, be it for work or at home.

182 notes · View notes

formulawolff · 1 month ago

Text

i. headlock - g.g. + g.r.

pairing -> fem!driver reader x gr63 (platonically)

word count -> 4.6k

warnings -> brocedes parallels, marijuana use, cursing, ANGST, so much ANGST, gut-wrenching heartbreak, lots of tears, slight toxicity, a falling out between two friends and teammates, alcohol usage, smut. basically every warning in the book!

a/n -> this is anon that started all of this. i do not apologize for the person that this concept has made me become. and i do not apologize for this fic. anon, ily. thank you for pulling me from the trenches of writer's block. <3

december 31st, 2025

“start from the beginning.”

“i’m not really sure if i want to–”

a hand floats across the cushion, trembling slightly.

it settles on top of yours, his fingers curling, squeezing the clammy skin.

he exhales a shaky breath, lashes fluttering as a tongue swipes along his lower lip. as he makes out the words, you can’t help but make out the golden glimmer in his mocha depths. they’re inviting, begging you to fall further and further in as he brings your knuckles to his mouth, shallow breaths fanning against heated skin.

his voice is soft, rich with notes of comfort. a sound you forgot you missed, the coziness of bliss rippling in your chest as he speaks.

“please. for me.”

292 days prior

“golden girl, what are you looking forward to most this season with mercedes?”

blinking, you clear your throat, leaning into the microphone, “you were speaking to me, right?”

the reporter scoffs, rolling her eyes, “who else would i refer to as ‘golden girl’?”

“easy there,” lewis cuts in, flashing a dazzling grin, “any one of us could be golden girl. especially this season. one of us could shine any given weekend.”

“he’s just saying that because he’s in that ferrari bullshit,” a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you shoot lewis a wink. yet, the realization washes over you, eyes widening, “oh fuck! did i just curse?”

“twice,” laughter erupts as max licks his lips, fighting a devious smirk, “hey someone call the fia on this lady! she’s cursing up a storm! where are the stewards so we can ensure she’s dealt with?”

“miss america,” another voice interjects, “will you just answer this poor woman’s question? she’s been waiting nearly three minutes now.”

your gaze falls on george, who happens to be visibly annoyed, toying with the zipper on his jacket, “yes, but only because you asked so politely.”

“thank you,” the british driver simply nods in response, his gaze fixated on his jacket.

you and lewis share a glance, the ferrari driver a bit unnerved by the sudden shift of energy. silence settles over the space, the attention honing in on you once again. squirming in your seat, you shrug, gnawing on your lower lip.

“i mean, i feel like there are a lot of things to look forward to this season now that i’m with mercedes. i really feel like i’m at home, and toto has been extremely encouraging and welcoming. the team has been open to all of the ideas i’ve pitched, and care about my input. and i can’t forget george. he’s been absolutely wonderful. i look forward to working with him, as we have a pretty good friendship off the track. and if i may add, he can whip up some tasty beans on toast.”

beside you, lando snickers, bringing his hand to his mouth. lewis shakes his head, mouth quivering. more chuckles rise from the crowd, yet george remains still, his jaw clenching.

too far? you mouth to lewis, who waves a hand.

not at all.

“thank you,” the reporter’s pen flicks as she jots down your response, “that’s all i have.”

“are we finished here?” ollie fights a yawn, “cause–”

“awwww, is the baby getting sleepy?” fernando chimes in, exaggerating a pout.

“yes, actually,” ollie nods, stifling a yawn, “very sleepy.”

“well that’s a wrap,” alex stretches as the media personnel shuffle about, filing out of the room, “i thought that was pretty productive. what about you guys?”

george tuts, folding his arms across his chest, “that was a waste of time.”

“oh come on,” alex frowns, “you didn’t like that, georgie?”

george mumbles a strand of words under his breath, rising to his feet, “i will see you all tomorrow for qualifying. have a good evening, and get some rest. you all need it, clearly.”

as the british driver makes his way through the array of chairs and tables, the remaining drivers linger, almost holding their breath. max is the first to break through the quiet, letting out a shaky breath.

“not quite sure what’s gotten into him lately.”

“he was like that a couple of months ago,” lando inhales sharply, “i think he’s just in his head, that’s all.”

“we’re all in our heads,” fernando clicks his tongue, “this is opening weekend.”

at the spaniard’s words, you can’t help but nod in agreement.

it was march 14th, 2025, the friday night before qualifying.

a mere forty-eight hours from the first race of the season.

twenty-four hours from now, the grid would be set.

in approximately twelve hours, you’d be soaring down the track for your first ever qualifying in a mercedes car.

a dream come true, really.

a dream that came with a cost.

following abu dhabi, bridges were burned.

actually, more like incinerated.

james did not take the move from williams to mercedes lightly.

as your move to mercedes became more and more of a reality for the team principal, the relationship between the two of you only grew more and more bitter. with each passing weekend, the snide remarks shifted into blunt, loaded statements. even when you won, it was never enough for james.

you were not fit enough for the world of formula one. your attitude was too sour. when you made mistakes, they were too costly. you would never become a champion at mercedes. toto was only filling your head with empty promises, just as he did with lewis. the upgrades they were making would not be able to compete with mclaren or ferrari. it would be years before mercedes could produce a car of championship caliber.

you would only be going where dreams were left to die.

that was the one statement that lingered.

no matter how many times toto attempted to squash it.

yet, with the start of the 2025 season, it promised nothing but new beginnings. a fresh start with the team you cherished ever since you were a little girl. over the course of the next nine months, you would be able to prove to the world that you were capable of securing that championship title.

it sounded easy enough when you thought about it, but saying it out loud was particularly challenging.

why were you so doubtful? what was holding you back? why was it so fucking difficult to picture yourself hoisting that trophy up high?

you could list a few reasons why.

max verstappen was the first.

throughout the entirety of last year, you were so confident. so sure of yourself. you managed to pull off one of the best starts of a season in your career, locking in a win weekend after weekend. you would have never imagined a more perfect start in the race to the championship. you sailed through jeddah. soared in miami. you even secured monaco.

the points were stacked, odds in your favor, as you were the favorite to win it all.

well, that was the case until spielberg.

spielberg was a shit show.

there really was not one particular person to blame for spielberg. the weather conditions were not entirely favorable that weekend. you were running off fumes from an eventful night with toto. there was a costly error in the team strategy that cost you several seconds from a podium. you couldn’t forget the time penalty either, which placed you near the bottom of the grid once everything was said and done.

george was the one who ended up winning austria, as max and lando collided in their fight for first.

from there, you fell into a funk. it was just an array of disappointing finishes. you barely made it to p2 some weekends, which cost you greatly in terms of the championship race.

in the end, it was max verstappen who sealed the deal in vegas.

it was a heartbreaking loss. gut-wrenching even.

it was one of the first times in your life where you felt truly and utterly defeated, fighting back tears as you ducked through the paddock, desperate to avoid the press. the headlines to follow were even lower blows, as your name was plastered everywhere and anywhere. you could barely log on to instagram or tik tok without reading scathing, horrific remarks.

there were demands that mercedes retract their deal with you. fans wanted you out of the paddocks for good. why even try when it was clear that you could not produce results? why were you even behind the wheel of a formula one car in the first place?

following vegas, part of you wondered if they were right. you would never be max. you could never compete with someone as gifted as him. you would never win a championship as long as he was on the grid. you would never make history. you were just a stupid woman with silly little hopes. going to mercedes would not automatically guarantee you the championship title. you would have to fight for it in a mediocre car just like everyone else on the grid.

perhaps you were icarus, who flew just a little too close to the sun.

as long as max verstappen was competing, you would never achieve greatness.

the second reason behind your doubts was mclaren.

it was not a secret that mclaren was a force to be reckoned with. securing the constructor’s title proved that.

those mclaren boys were starting to become a threat, the speed of the mclaren almost lethal. there were many instances in which you speculated if the car itself was legal, but it seemed to pass every inspection by the fia. without a doubt, oscar and lando were talented. but having a rocketship under your fingertips was certainly a bonus.

a bonus that you were envious of with each passing weekend.

yet, the idea of working with zak brown left a bitter taste in your mouth. it was enough to keep you from stepping foot in that ridiculous papaya paddock.

and the third? you didn’t really want to talk about it.

well, it did bubble up often. a little too much for your liking.

whenever those feelings resurfaced, you instinctively reached for the cartridge in your bag. you would inhale, exhale, and all of the sudden, those lingering ruminations would disappear, the high sweeping you up in its blissful embrace.

did you want to discuss those lingering thoughts? yes.

but could you? no.

well, lately, they weren’t thoughts.

they were starting to transform into an awful sensation. the sort of feeling that left you numb from head to toe, waves of guilt crashing over. the sort of sensation that sent you reeling, lying awake at night, reaching for that cartridge so you wouldn’t feel anything else.

you were going through those carts a little too much for your liking as of lately.

but as long as it distracted you from those thoughts, it didn’t matter.

luckily, the start of the season slowed you down. well, just enough.

making your way to the garage, you notice him pacing about, phone pressed to his ear. his brows are furrowed, knit together with concentration. his pristine polo is unbuttoned slightly more than it was a few hours ago, revealing a snowy white t-shirt underneath. the shirt clings to his skin, spanning across his toned chest.

as you get closer, you pick out the way the muscles in his forearm flex as he brings a hand to his chin, nodding along.

the moment you come into his line of sight, he murmurs a few hushed words, then proceeds to shove the phone into his pocket. you purse your lips, cocking your head. typically, you were greeted with a radiant smile, swept up into his arms for a tight hug. however, he is reserved, his lips etched in a deep frown, hands situated on his hips.

ducking your head, you avoid his stony gaze, “who was that?”

“the stewards,” you shrink slightly at the iciness inflected throughout his words, “it was about your drug test.”

“and?” your heart skips a beat, yet you maintain your composure, shrugging, “was there something abnormal or–”

“you tested positive for cannabinoids.”

“and?” you press, clicking your tongue, “what about it?”

the team principal tilts his head, a tongue swiping along his teeth, “why have you been hiding it from me?”

“that’s what you’re concerned about?”

toto nods, the intense eye contact picking you apart, almost as if he was studying every little move, every little inflection in your voice, “yes, that is what i’m concerned about. i do not give a fuck about the other shit that comes with this. i want to know why you were hiding it from me. you know i don’t care during the off-season and holidays. i encourage it, actually, as it seems to help keep your anxiety at bay.

but we are not on holiday. we are about to start the fucking season and here you are, prancing around with that ridiculous little pen. are you under the impression that the rules just don’t apply to you because of our relationship?”

“toto,” you swallow thickly, realizing that eyes are starting to wander, “can we please talk about this in private?”

“no,” to your dismay, he raises his voice several octaves, the sound carrying throughout the entire space, “you are not racing this weekend. kimi will be filling your seat instead. you have been suspended for three races.”

in that moment, you want nothing more than to just sink into the floor, disappearing from the stares that are now lasered in, focusing on nothing else but the lover’s quarrel in the middle of the garage.

that’s when the terror starts to seep in.

you would not be able to race this weekend. you would have to sit on the sidelines, barred from earning points. you would not get that head start you needed so desperately in order to get ahead in the championship fight. you would have to play catch up the rest of the season to even compete for the title.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you wanted to scream. you wanted to explode. you wanted to curse him out right then and there.

yet, your knees buckle, a wail rising in your throat.

your lower lip quivers, tears blurring your vision, “toto, can we just–”

“no excuses,” the team principal growls, “you may have been able to get away with this at williams, but i am not excusing this. you are going to face the consequences of your actions, whether you detest it or not.”

bringing a hand to your face, you attempt to wipe away a tear. yet, you realize it’s too late, as there were streams flowing down your cheeks, completely soaking through the fabric.

hanging your head, you exhale a shaky breath, “o-okay.”

“that’s it?” you recoil at the cruel taunt, “that’s all you have to say?”

“yes,” you mutter, “that’s all.”

to your dismay, he struts past, giving you one last sentiment.

“meet me in my office tomorrow morning at seven. if you’re a second late, i’m extending your suspension two more races. no exceptions.”

˗ˏˋ⋆. ݁₊˚. ݁⊹₊ ݁. ݁⋆˖˚₊ ݁. ⊹. ࣪ ˖ ✴︎ ˖ ࣪ .⊹ . ݁₊˚˖⋆ ݁. ݁₊⊹ ݁.˚₊ ݁.⋆ˊˎ˗

three knocks ring out in the night.

“hospitality! we have come to collect your bedding!”

grumbling, you get up on your feet, shuffling to the door. as your hand curls around the knob, you crack open the door, peering behind it.

before you stand alex and carlos, the pair bearing goofy smiles. in one of alex’s hands is a mysterious white paper bag, a bouquet of flowers in the other. at the sight of them, you nearly crumble, your throat tightening.

“h-hi guys.”

alex puckers his lips, “can we come in?”

“yeah,” you dip your head, pulling the door toward you, “come on in.”

“we just wanted to let you know that we’re proud of you,” alex gushes, making his way to your kitchenette, “since you’re accomplishing big dreams, we brought some of your favorite snacks and a couple of drinks.”

at the sight of the flowers, you can’t help but giggle, “where did you find those?”

“don’t worry about it,” carlos waves a hand, making himself comfortable on your couch, “where’s toto?”

the mere mention of his name sends your heart rate spiking, a sheen of sweat pooling in your palms, “h-he had some stuff to take care of before qualifying tomorrow.”

“you’re lying,” alex rolls his eyes, plopping down next to carlos, “what’s going on? and don’t act like everything is all fine and dandy because i know damn well things are not.”

sighing, you settle between alex and carlos, resting your head on alex’s shoulder, “i’m not racing this weekend.”

alex’s muscles tense, the words dangerously quiet as they flow from his mouth, “what happened?”

chewing on the inside of your lower lip, you shrug, “i got into some deep shit with the stewards.”

at that, alex straightens his spine, shifting his waist so that he was looking down at you, “what. happened.”

“i failed my drug test.”

“what?” carlos blinks, “why did you fail?”

sucking in a breath, you pause, trying to formulate some sort of response that wouldn’t trigger another meltdown.

i failed because i am starting to regret taking the mercedes seat. and i can’t stop fucking thinking about it. it takes up my brain space. i can’t even focus without my mind wandering. i don’t feel joy when i’m in that seat. i’m not sure if this hunger i have will ever be fulfilled if i stay in that seat. i don’t feel at home.

maybe james was right. maybe my dreams are going to just rot and die in that fucking car.

i feel like a fool.

i just can’t take it anymore.

i just can’t…

“apparently i tested positive for cannabinoids.”

“apparently or you did test positive?” alex presses, his voice soft as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, “you can be honest. you know we won’t say anything.”

“you can tell us,” carlos affirms, nodding fervently, “we just want to know what’s going on, in case we can help.”

i’m not sure if you guys can help.

“i’ve been high nearly every day for the last three months.”

“wait, pause,” alex clears his throat, putting up a hand, “every day?”

“well,” you exhale, “more like every night. i haven’t been able to sleep.”

“oh,” carlos leans back, bringing a hand to his chin, “that’s not unheard of.”

“thanks guys,” you melt into the cushion, groaning, “i’m feeling so much better about it.”

“i mean it’s pretty normalized in the states so i’m not judging,” alex brings you closer to him, squeezing you gently, “did you get one of those special forms from a psychiatrist or therapist authorizing you to use it for therapeutic purposes? i know that the fia sort of excuses it if it’s medicinal.”

“of course not,” you shake your head, “i’ve just been carrying it around with me. everywhere i go, it comes with.”

“how do you get past international flights?” the inquiry comes tumbling out of carlos’ mouth, earning a laugh from you.

“toto and i usually just fly private.”

“oh,” carlos licks his lips, “that makes sense.”

“why have you been having issues sleeping?” alex murmurs, resting his chin on your head, “do carlos and i need to come over every night and have sleepovers so that you’ll get some shut-eye?”

“i’m not too sure if i want to talk about that right now. can we just change the subject?”

you feel alex’s adam apple bob, as if he was going to pry, but he remains quiet. carlos crosses his legs, his hands resting on his lap. you expect alex to ignore your request, but he complies, a ripple of relief blossoming in your chest.

“how are things going with george? he seemed a wee bit uptight today.”

your jaw clenches, hands curling into tight fists.

of course alex was going to bring up george.

of course.

“things are going fine,” you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants, “he’s been welcoming. we’re good friends, you know.”

“you sure about that?” alex coughs, “remember, we’re having honesty hour here. everything you say is confidential information.”

biting back a sharp retort, you snuggle into your hoodie, catching a whiff of toto’s cologne.

there’s a pang in your chest, tugging at your heart.

maybe you could gossip with them about the incident earlier. just to change the topic of conversation entirely.

maybe it would help you feel a little bit better to rant about your boyfriend for a good hour. maybe it would lift your mood slightly if you heard the words oh my god he’s such an asshole for that or what a dick! tell us more.

just maybe.

but would it make everything better?

would it really?

or would it just be like slapping a bandaid on a gaping wound? would it temporarily ease the pain that ate away at you, tearing you open from the inside?

there was no denying that when you made the move to mercedes, the way toto treated you changed.

but that was expected. he was your boss now. you were under his wing. things had to remain professional. no lines could be blurred, as it was stated in your contract. there was no room for special treatment.

he was the reason why you were here at mercedes. he was the one who was going to lead you to greatness. he was the one who promised he would fulfill your destiny.

he was the one who gifted mercedes with their messiah.

the one who was going to win them both the world driver’s championship and the constructor’s.

no matter the cost.

at least, that’s what he told you.

and that is what you were going to keep telling yourself.

even if it absolutely destroyed you, you were going to secure that title.

you had to. you just had to.

because now, there was no other way out.

there just wasn’t.

december 31st, 2025

“i am so fucking sorry.”

sniffling, you wrinkle your nose, “you have no reason to be sorry.”

“i am though,” your heart sinks as he brings his head up, gaze glossy from tears, “you should never be in that sort of position. ever. you should never have to feel like you need to destroy every part of yourself for a team. that’s just so fucking unfair.”

“i-i did that to my-myself though,” the words are mangled as you spit them out, shoulders trembling as you sob, “i signed that contract. i was the one who put myself in that position. it’s all my fault. it’s all my fucking fault.”

“hey,” his accent seeps through as his hand connects with your cheek, the pad of his thumb swiping away a droplet as it cascades down, “please don’t blame yourself. you have no reason to blame yourself. it’s not your fault.”

“then who do i blame?” you counter, “whose fault is it then?”

“it’s not entirely one person’s fault,” the words are tender as he leans in, “if you keep blaming yourself, you’re only going to spiral further and further down that dark path. here, let’s talk about something else for the time being. ask me something. anything.”

“okay,” you nod, “c-can i have a tissue?”

“of course,” a chuckle rumbles in the base of his throat. carefully, he leans to the right, plucking a tissue box off the table, “here, knock yourself out. use as many as you need.”

graciously, you pull a few tissues from the box, blowing into them. he offers you a small trash can, and you toss them into the bin. bringing your sleeves to your eyes, you swipe along your lashes, dousing the fabric. he murmurs something you can’t quite comprehend, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“what do you say we order some food, yeah?”

“i’m not so sure if that’s a good idea,” you exhale, curling up into the couch cushion, “i’m not really hungry.”

“oh come on,” his knee nudges yours playfully, “you’ve been over here for almost three hours. you need something to eat.”

“i need a joint,” you grumble, ignoring the continuous buzzing in your pocket.

“good thing we’re in new york,” clambering to his feet, he shoots you a wink, “come on. let’s go for a ride. you need some fresh air.”

“can i drive?”

at that, the corners of his lips twitch, forming a wide grin, “of course you can drive. which car do you want to take?”

“what about the mclaren?”

“keys are on the island,” he motions his head toward the kitchen, “while you’re at it, start thinking about places where you want to eat.”

“that’s not fair,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “if i drive, that means you choose where to eat.”

“you have a point there,” he ushers you out of the door, pulling it shut, “you have a point there.”

as he makes his way to the garage, your gaze rests on his arm as it stretches out behind him, his hand waving.

swallowing the lump in your throat, you find yourself intertwining your fingers together.

you shouldn’t be here.

the dozens upon dozens of missed calls and ignored texts proved that.

but fuck, did it feel right.

as if you were meant to be here.

for the first time in months, there was this feeling brewing within you, coming back to the surface.

it was peaceful, filling you up the brim with euphoria. reminiscent of that feeling of when you heard you father’s car pulling up in the driveway, or when your mom stopped by mcdonald’s on the way to kindergarten classes. it reminded you of that sensation you felt every time your plane pulled to a stop on that tarmac, surrounded by palm trees and cacti.

for the first time in months, you felt like you were home.

“since you’re driving, that means i’m aux,” his voice brings you back to earth, grounding you, “however, i’m making an exception. what do you want to listen to?”

“whatever you want to,” you shrug, climbing into the driver’s seat, “i’m not picky.”

“how about some adele?” he arches a brow, letting out a hearty laugh as you scowl, “i was just kidding. i know that’s probably the last thing you want to listen to.”

as you start the car, the engine roars to life. your eyes widen, and you can sense his smile as he leans over the center console, pointing out a few of the bells and whistles. his shoulder brushes against yours, sending heat flourishing into your cheeks as his hand guides yours to the gear shift.

“i-i’m sorry,” he whispers, “i’m getting too close.”

“is that such a bad thing?”

his chest heaves as you tilt your head, lashes fluttering as the tip of his nose brushes against yours, “no, but i need to keep my distance.”

all around you, the windows fog as his mouth ghosts over yours, “what if i want you to be this close?”

“it wouldn’t be fair,” the words tremble as you inch closer, “i-i shouldn’t–”

“you should–”

“mmm,” he hums, pulling away, “you need time, as much as you won’t admit it.”

“fuck you,” you mumble, feeling a pout form as he smirks, waggling a finger.

“you really though you could seduce me but nope! i am immune!”

“look up where the nearest dispensary,” your fingers curl around the gear shift, “please and–”

“i’m not letting that happen,” his attention is invested in his phone, scrolling through his apple music library, “okay, i found a good one. did you pick a place to eat?”

“no,” glancing over your shoulder, you ensure that there is nothing in sight as you reverse, foot hovering over the brake, “can we just drive around a little bit? i need some time to think.”

“yep!” he chirps, “under one condition, though.”

“and what’s that?” you hold your breath as you pull up to the gate.

“you tell me about george.”

˗ˏˋ⋆. ݁₊˚. ݁⊹₊ ݁. ݁⋆˖˚₊ ݁. ⊹. ࣪ ˖ ✴︎ ˖ ࣪ .⊹ . ݁₊˚˖⋆ ݁. ݁₊⊹ ݁.˚₊ ݁.⋆ˊˎ˗

let me know if you would like to be tagged! i plan on making this a three part miniseries! thank you for reading! ♡

#toto wolff x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #toto wolff #george russell x reader #alkaline #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #toto wolff x y/n #alex albon #formula 1 #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton

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mapiforpresident · 1 year ago

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Hi writer, prompt number 16 with Barcelona femeni(maybe platonic)

I'll Try to Behave

fcb femení x teen!reader

warnings: alcohol

The team bus was loud before you even got on it, but as soon as you made your way up the stairs the whole coach cheered. It was a couple hours after Barcelona had won the Supercopa in which you scored three goals.

"I knew I brought you here for a reason" Lucy yelled over the music Patri and Pina were playing on a speaker.

"You didn't do anything, it was mostly Keira and Ona. If anything you were on my con list."

"I'm taking personal offence to that," Lucy said as she slid into the seat next to Ona towards the middle of the bus. Ona was a good friend of yours having played with her during her two years at Man United. You were also close with Lucy and Keira from being on the Lionesses together.

As Lucy and Ona got lost in their own little world of staring into each other's eyes lovingly, you fake gagged at them and continued to the back of the bus where your closest friends Patri, Pina, Mapi, and Cata were all yelling some song in Spanish that you couldn't understand a word of. Alexia and Ingrid were also sat in the back although based on their frowns, you had a feeling they thought the music was a little bit loud.

You dramatically flopped yourself on Alexia's lap who was sat directly in front of Pina and Patri's seat. "Yo Pina play that one I like next please and Patri can you please pass me one of those beers."

"No, absolutely not. Have you lost your mind." Alexia exclaimed while she was trying to push you off of her onto the seat next to her.

"Ale I'm seventeen, I've drank a beer before. Mapi even gave me two at the last team bonding night after you feel asleep like a grandma during The Lion King."

"You were not supposed to tell her that y/n." Mapi angrily whispered at you from across the aisle. "Great now she is going to murder me and never let me within ten feet of you"

"I swear to god Mapi. Why are you corrupting the baby. And you," Alexia said as she turned to you, "no drinking or dating or anything of the sort until you are thirty."

"You do know me and Pina had a beer chugging contest in the locker room before we got on the bus right."

"Claudia Pina." You had never seen anyone glare with as much exasperation at someone until now. Claudia coward under Ale's gaze and pretended to be staring out the window until Alexia was called up to the front of the bus by Jana asking her a question.

Patri decided to break the tension by shouting "truth or dare anyone," down the aisle of the bus to which you immediately agreed.

"Truth or dare, y/n," Patri asked you. You decided to go with truth for the first one knowing if you chose dare already, Patri would mostly likely give you one that would end with Alexia dragging you to the front of the bus and not letting you have anymore fun.

"Have you ever had a crush on anyone on this team." Patri really wanted to know the answer because you rarely talked about crushes or your love life.

You smirked at her. "Yes. Truth or dare Mapi"

"Wait hold on who is it" Patri asked as Pina asks "Do you still have a crush on them."

"That was not part of the question. Truth or dare Mapi." Mapi decided to go with a dare much to the displeasure of her girlfriend sitting next to her.

"I dare you to call your mom and tell her your pregnant"

"You know she is never going to believe me seeing as I'm with Ingrid and all," Mapi replied, but still pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number not one to back down from a dare.

As Mapi made the call, the rest of the team listening were trying their hardest to contain their fits of laughter, the alcohol already consumed not helping. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, watching as Mapi put on her best dramatic performance, her eyes widening in feigned panic as she spoke into the phone.

"Mom, I have something to tell you... I'm pregnant," Mapi announced dramatically, her voice laced with faux distress.

The reaction on the other end of the line was immediate and intense, Mapi's mother launching into a tirade of disbelief and concern that had the entire bus doubled over in laughter. Even Ingrid couldn't contain her amusement, shaking her head in mock disapproval as Mapi continued to play her part until eventually Mapi's mom heard all the laughing and figured out Mapi was pranking her. After she hung up she asked, "Claudia, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"What’s your biggest turn-on?" Mapi asked.

"Um probably eye contact," Claudia replied as she blushed a little. "Ok Cata, truth or dare."

Just as Cata was about to reply dare. Alexia called out to the bus that they had arrived back at the parking lot.

As you stepped off the bus, the night air enveloped you. The laughter and banter of your teammates echoed around you, their voices a comforting melody amidst the bustling streets of Barcelona.

Patri and Pina led the way to Patri's car, the promise of continuing the celebration at a club with friends sparking excitement in the air. You were about to join them, already planning how many shots you'd take, when suddenly, Alexia's firm grip halted you in your tracks.

"Absolutely not, hermanita," Alexia declared, her gaze unwavering. "I already asked Olga to set up the spare room for you. We can watch a movie before you go to bed if you're good on the car ride home."

You pouted playfully, but deep down, you were grateful for Alexia's protective instinct. With a resigned sigh, you agreed, knowing that Alexia always had your best interests at heart.

"Fine," you relented, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "As long as I get to pick the movie."

And so, the night continued, filled with laughter, music, and the warmth of friendship that surrounded you like a comforting embrace. As you fell asleep that night, nestled between Alexia and Olga, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the football family you had found at Barcelona, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other's backs.

---

Let me know if you guys have any tips or comments to improve my writing. Also my requests are open so feel to request anything and I will get it done asap. Thank you!!

#fcb femení x reader #fcb femení #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #mapi leon #claudia pina #patri guijarro #ona batlle #keira walsh #woso x reader #woso

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lunaxstrange · 7 months ago

Text

Can we talk about love in orv?

[SPOILERS]

Okay so, I am aware that Kdj loves the "story" but I really wanna point some things out individually because it's 2am and ORV is on my mind.

Kdj had the easiest way out of the 1863rd turn. The most perfect turn (at the time) but he really went I'd let the world burn for Yjh? Yeah, everything is "part of his plan" but let's talk about the 73rd Demon King arc. My man would do anything to make sure Yjh finishes his story. Apart from this, it's the fact that while everyone else dislike any other version of Yjh (even he hates himself lol), Kdj loves every. single. one. I mean 3rd turn (1864th) Yjh? Yes. Hsy's 1863rd turn? Yes. Frickin' Secretive Plotter? Got off to a rough start but yes. You simply cannot make Kdj hate his beloved protagonist. I mean, this man risked his whole existence to make sure the 0th turn is actually the most perfect one. He didn't want Yjh to regress but became his sponsor anyway because it's what Yjh wanted. He would do anything to see Yjh happy. This type of love isn't romantic or platonic or anything else, it's the most inexplicable form of love. Love in its purest form. I'd like to take the time to compare it to Achilles and Patroclus because while we can fight over whether these two were gay or not, we cannot deny the sheer love they had for each other. No strings attached. Kdj is in awe of Yjh.

Yjh. The regressor. The protagonist. The person Kdj loves the most. Yjh had everything (0th turn) but he really gave it all up just to meet Kdj. Suffered the "Hell of eternity" just to see him. Bro didn't even love Lsw the way he loves Kdj. Tbf, 0th turn Yjh didn't know what the real struggle of passing the scenarios without help was but I'm sure he got the gist. Okay, sure, you can call it "curiosity" that led to Yjh keeping Kdj alive during the 3rd (1864th) turn. But my guy didn't choose Kdj to go to Peace Land because he had "someone he loved" like bro, YJH!? THE COLD REGRESSOR??? HE DID THAT FOR KIM DOKJA! Not to mention the fact that Yjh didn't even care that his whole life was a mere novel. He just despised the fact that Kdj chose the 1863rd turn over him. I'm gonna cry. Bro wanted Kdj so bad that he kept fighting the Secretive Plotter. Not only this, he gave up the 3rd (1864th) turn for Kdj too. Went from Supreme King to terrorist just to save Kdj. When everyone else - even Hsy - gave up. After all, what is a protagonist without a reader? The whole astronaut ordeal might've been to "find his purpose" but we can't ignore their connection. He gave up everything he could ever ask for twice (0th and 3rd/1864th turn) for Kdj. The attachment these two have with each other is insane.

I could go on about them for eternity but we have another person to talk about - Hsy. This woman spent 10 years exhausted, stuck in a world-line and body not her own for one person. Even if it's only Hsy with half her memories, she gave up her perfect world-line because she missed Kdj. Just like Kdj loves Yjh, Hsy also loves every version of Kdj. She wanted to meet him, no matter what the world-line. My girl had only a few hours where she was in control and decided to use off all those hours to write TWSA - a story she herself disliked. Hsy wants to see Kdj happy, every part of Hsy loves Kdj. There is nothing a writer could love more than an avid reader who loves their story. And let's talk about the fact that Yjh and Hsy absolutely hate each other. He is literally her creation (more or less) but their relationship is questionable. Why? Because a protagonist has no value without a reader. Kinda like Asuka Ren and Kyrgios Rodgraim. They have no special relationship despite being creator and creation. Since there is no reader, Asuka and Kyrgios are as distant as two people can be. Alternatively, what brings Hsy and Yjh together is Kdj.

I just can't get enough of the way ORV relationships are written. If I had to describe love as a writer, I'd cite ORV as an example.

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #orv spoilers #omniscient reader webtoon #omniscient reader novel #omniscient reader #han sooyoung #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #orv kdj #kdj x yjh #kdj #orv hsy #hsy #yjh #orv yjh #orv meta

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raccoon-in-the-danger-room · 3 months ago

Text

getting pissed about the love triangle again, so here are my ramblings

I hate it cause everyone's characterization gets fucked over implicitly because each of them turn into the worst versions of themselves

Jean is labeled as the slut. A dull and one-dimensional plot device to Logan's angst, an apathetic cheater to Scott's pain

Scott is labeled as the loser. A butt of the joke to Logan's "victory" (I hate even saying it cause Jean isn't a prize but thats how writers hype it up), a guy who's pathetic enough to still be there whenever Jean wants him again

Logan is labeled as the homewrecker. A man Jean "can fix" because of her psychic abilities, an absolute asshole in Scott's story

Everything about the love triangle infuriates me cause they're all such amazing characters for one thing, not to mention their relationships with one another

Like I can't stress enough how much I LOVE Jean and Scott's love. In most narratives, they were high school sweethearts. They were the first students and a part of the first team. They fell hopelessly and deeply in love with each other because how couldn't they!

They were kids tormented by how freakish they were, and each one of them held onto the other to become their anchor. Echoing sentiments like "no, you're not a freak, you're just YOU and there's nothing wrong with that."

Also, it's so cute in the very original run of xmen Scott didn't ask out Jean for AGES and ppl bullied the absolute fuck outta him for it. Cause Scott's whole thing was that he never thought he was good enough for her. But Jean waited for him. And idk what to say other than that Imma real sucker for friends to lovers and the power of being an absolute simp for your girl

As for their friendships with Logan -- it makes me so sad that it's soooooooooo overshadowed or even nonexistent cause of the love triangle

Cause Jean being there for Logan when he's dealing with his memory loss IS really sweet. If romance is taken out of the equation, I think it's such a powerful testament to their platonic love for each other. Logan allowing Jean into his mind and knowing she won't think less of him is incredibly vulnerable on his part. Jean persisting to help him because she cares about him and emphasizing he IS more man than animal is so deeply kind of her

But they shouldn't be in romantic love with each other because of this. It creates an INSANE "I love my therapist -- I mean girlfriend -- I mean Scott's girlfriend" vibe. Just...... gross dude.

As for Scott and Logan's friendship, they're so funny dude. Just a slapstick good cop, bad cop comedy duo. Eagle scout uncle that gives you genuinely good life advice and that weird uncle who smokes cigs, rides a bike, and tells you how to punch properly so you don't break your hand

They just have SO MUCH POTENTIAL to be good friends and it makes me genuinely sad that all three of them are forced into a love triangle. They're all such interesting ppl that are unique opposing or foil characters to each other

They all deserve better than to be the slut, the homewrecker, and the loser

#my post #xmen #logan howlett #wolverine #scott summers #cyclops #jean grey

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scoutswritingcorner · 1 year ago

Note

YOURE MY FAVORITE HAZBIN WRITER!!!!

could i possibly request a tiny little one shot of lucifer’s new wifey (reader) meeting charlie for the first time?? and everyone’s reactions and maybe charlie warming up to her and calling her mom :(((

First Meetings

Lucifer x GN!Reader

Platonic Charlie x GN! Reader

TW:NONE!

A/n: Hihi Anon! This was a really cute request! Your words mean a lot to me! Hope you enjoy! As always Reader will be genderneutral as that’s something I’m more comfortable writing with and so everyone can enjoy!

Lucifer happily grabbed your hand and kissed the golden band on your finger as you both walked towards the Hazbin Hotel, “Darling, you’re shaking like a leaf.” You called out, squeezing his hand as he smiled at you, “I’m just nervous is all..what if she doesn’t approve?” He asked frowning as tears welled up in his eyes. You pulled him into a gentle hug, “I think she will, the way you talk about her she seems like she would love seeing you remarried and happy again.” you hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as he hugged you back with a bright blush on his cheeks, “You’re right, she’s gonna love you just as much as I do!” He replied, jumping up in excitement pulling you along towards the Hotel.

-👑 Charlie absolutely adores you! You make her dad happy and bring him more out of his shell and his depressive moods. The first time she calls you mom/dad/parent? She gets so embarrassed because it slipped out but she’s so happy that you aren’t mad. Lucifer definitely cries and then Charlie starts crying cause her dad is crying.

-🎀 Vaggie was weary of you at first. But soon enough calmed down seeing how happy her girlfriend was and slowly started to trust you more. At least you call her by her name the first time.

-🕷️ Angel Dust playfully pouts because now the hottest man in all of hell is off limits. But in all seriousness, he doesn’t really care. He will flirt with you too and don't think your off limits since your married.

-♠ ️ Husk also doesn’t really care all that much but he’s happy for Lucifer and Charlie.

-🦌 Alastor straight up doesn’t give two fucks. He’ll jokingly try to steal you away from Lucifer and chaos ensues. Listen- I love this deer man but he does not have any fucks to give.

-🐍 Sir Pentious freaks the fuck out, like- accidentally trips and falls right infront of you dropping the pan of cookies he had and salutes to you whenever you talk to him. HE IS SUCH A DORK COME ON NOW- But he’s happy for Lucifer and Charlie-

-🪲 Nifty is mad at you, she’ll respect you, but she’s mad at you cause you took one of her “bad boys”.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x gn!reader #charlie morningstar #charlie x reader #hazbin charlie #charlie x gn!reader

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justauthoring · 1 year ago

Text

naturally [3].

you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally → in which you meet satoru gojo

a/n: yall this one was a blast to write.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic), satosugu as well!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

I won’t be able to pick up Yuji today from daycare, do you mind heading there alone?

No worries at all, Kento. You know I don’t mind. Is everything okay?

Yes. My boss is being particularly pushy about getting this project done by today. I’m sorry to leave you alone.

I’ll be fine. But please don’t push yourself too hard, love.

Thank you, Y/N. I’ll try not to.

I’ll make your favourite for dinner, okay? Love you.

That would be wonderful, dear. I love you too.

When you’d received the text from Nanami, you hadn’t thought anything of it. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked you to pick up Yuji, and that was way before the two of you ever were in a relationship. It hadn’t been much of a hassle then, given that you lived next door to him but it was even less of a worry now since you’d moved in with Nanami and Yuji into their apartment. Often, the two of you would pick up Yuji together and since you’d started joining Nanami, Yuji had been ecstatic about the whole thing that you made it a goal to go every day.

You’d already been out doing some errands, just about to make your way to the school with the assumption that Nanami would meet you there, when you’d gotten his text. You’d shrugged the whole situation off, mentally thankful you’d gotten all the necessary ingredients for Nanami’s favourite dinner when you’d grabbed groceries with a light frown at the realization of how hard Nanami’s office had been pushing him recently. Luckily it was the end of the week and you could spend the weekend making sure he got the rest he definitely deserved.

Your walk to Yuji’s daycare isn’t long at all and your thoughts are filled with the wonderful and loving family you’ve found yourself. None of it was in your plans for your life but you couldn’t deny how incredibly happy you were. Yuji was an absolute bundle of joy that you loved like your own son, and Nanami was the best boyfriend you could ask for – understanding, loyal, and loving. He checked off any and all boxes that may exist and made you incredibly happy.

You wouldn’t trade any of it.

“Y/N/N!”

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the familiar sound of Yuji’s voice. You blink, not having even realized you’d reached the daycare until a blob of pink comes crashing towards you, slamming right into your legs as Yuji hugs you as best he can with his small arms, peering up at you with bright, shining eyes. You smile at the sight, crouching down to his level as you distantly catch his teacher’s eye and offer a smile when she waves at you, before putting your full attention on Yuji.

“Hi, Yuji-kun,” you giggle, ruffling his hair. You notice his eyes drift past you, and are quick to explain. ��Your father is stuck at work for a bit but I was thinking me and you could make his favourite dinner together, how does that sound?”

Yuji beams; “perfect!”

You let out a laugh, nodding your head. “How was your day?”

“Amazing!” Yuji practically cheers, and you blink slightly at the pure excitement in his voice. Suddenly, he’s letting go of your leg to take your hand in his own, his grip quite tight for such a small child as he starts pulling. “I want you to meet my friend, Y/N/N. His name is Megumi!”

You internally laugh at Yuji’s short-attention span. You’d thought he’d be more disappointed about Nanami not being able to show up, but as usual, the boy was effortlessly positive and didn’t seem to let himself get phased by many things.

That, or he was just happy as long as one of you came.

“Okay–just, slow down a little, Yuji, I–”

“MEGUMI!”

Your lips part as Yuji practically bellows the name, eyes drifting ahead of yourself to the direction Yuji’s yanking you towards. You see a small boy, just slightly taller than Yuji, with black, spiky hair (it’s quite amazing actually), in a similar uniform as Yuji but he looks a lot more neat and put-together than Yuji does–even though every morning, you make sure Yuji leaves with his buttons all done and his collar straight, something or another is amiss every time you come to pick him up.

The boy glances back at the call of his name, seemingly unphased by how loud Yuji was, and it’s then you notice the man standing next to him.

He’s tall. Very tall. He’s got startlingly white hair that falls effortlessly around his head, shaping his face perfectly and he’s wearing a pair of black sunglasses but yet as his eyes drift in the direction of you and Yuji, it still feels like he’s staring directly into you.

“Y/N/N! Y/N/N! This is Megumi,” Yuji tugs at your hands and you pull your eyes away from the man, moving to smile down at Megumi. “Megumi, this is Y/N/N. The one I was talking about.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Megumi,” you offer gently, smiling softly down at the boy.

Meeting your eyes, you’re shocked as Megumi bows, offering a small ‘nice to meet you’. You don’t think you’ve met such a polite young boy, even if he was a little quiet. It’s funny, you think, how Yuji could’ve made such a friend–someone so quiet and calm compared to your loud and boisterous boy. But then again, didn’t they say opposites attract?

“I certainly don’t know where he got that from.”

You glance up as the man with white-hair speaks up, grinning at you as he steps forward, ruffling Megumi’s hair. The boy instantly frowns as he does, batting the man’s hands away as he he grumbles to himself all whilst Yuji giggles, moving to point out Megumi’s frown and the two of them fall into a chatter amongst themselves as the man with white-hair sticks his own out towards you.

“Satoru Gojo,” the man introduces, “and you must be the famous Y/N Yuji keeps telling me about.”

Slowly, you let your hand fall in his, nodding. “Yes, I, um… I’m Kento’s–”

“Wife,” Gojo cuts off, smirking. “Yes, I actually work with your husband.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks burning red; “oh… oh no! We’re just dating, not… we’re not married, Gojo-san.”

“Ah, please, call me Satoru,” he brushes off, “and sorry. I just assumed Nanami would’ve put a ring on you already with the way he talks about you. He’s absolutely smitten.”

Your cheeks stay flushed, glancing at your feet. “Ah, well… you know…” desperate for the conversation to change, you glance back up at him. “Are you Megumi’s father?” You only ask because the two of them don’t really look all that related–of course, that didn’t mean much.

Still, it was a shift in conversation.

“Not biologically, no,” Gojo nods, “but I do take care of him.”

“Barely.” Megumi cuts in, glowering at the man.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter–for such a young boy, he was rather quick-witted.

Gojo sticks his tongue out at the boy, and you find yourself unable to stop the giggle that leaves your lips at the sight. They were a rather odd pair, weren’t they?

Gojo glances at you as you giggle and your eyes widen.

“Oh, my apologies, Satoru-san! It’s just–”

“No need to apologize,” he waves you off, stepping towards you. “Now, where is Nanami?”

“Oh, he had to stay at work to finish something up. Speaking of, Yuji and I should be heading home. We’ve got to start making dinner. But it was lovely–”

A huge gasp cuts you off. You blink, glancing down at Yuji who stares up at you with an expression like he’s come up with the best thing in the entire world.

“Y/N/N! Can Megumi and Gojo-san stay for dinner?”

After a long and grueling day, Nanami is more than excited to come home to you and his son and have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening.

At least, that was the plan.

Until he sees Gojo Satoru standing in his living room.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

He ignores his rather sharp language in front of the children. Never, ever has he ever wanted to see Gojo standing in his apartment, in his living room and least of all, has he ever wanted Gojo to be anywhere near you–talking with you, making you laugh, offering to help you with dinner–any of it.

Your wide eyes fall on Nanami the second you hear his voice, and Nanami feels a flash of guilt when he sees the panicked look in your eyes.

Gojo just beams. “Nanami! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Yuji comes bounding towards Nanami, hugging his father tightly and Nanami, despite the annoyance standing in front of him, of course returns the hug to his son, as Yuji beams up at him; “I asked Y/N/N if Megumi and Gojo-san could come for dinner and she said yes!”

Nanami’s eyes drift to you then, noticing the way you step towards him nervously. “I hope that’s okay,” you offer quietly and Nanami frowns at the look in your eyes. You look positively worried, and he curses himself silently when he realizes it’s because you think you’ve upset him. “Satoru-san said he was a friend from work and Yuji seemed super excited, so–”

Stepping towards you, Nanami gently pulls himself from Yuji, wrapping his arm around your waist to lean forward and press a kiss against your forehead. “It’s no worries, love. It’s not you I’m annoyed by,” he assures you, smiling down at you before his gaze hardens and he faces Gojo who continues to stand smugly in the living room. “It’s him.”

It’s then you learn that while Gojo may consider them friends, Nanami certainly doesn’t.

At least, not outwardly. You can tell Gojo definitely annoys your boyfriend, but Nanami still tolerates him nonetheless and it’s proven in the way he doesn’t immediately kick Gojo out.

You also notice how Nanami is particularly clingy the entire night – he sticks by you, as if attached to your hip, constantly offering to help, barely allowing Gojo to step within a few feet of you. Gojo notices, of course, and he uses it to his advantage to constantly tease Nanami but you find you hardly care – Nanami was hardly ever possessive and it made you feel giddy that he was so desperate to make sure Gojo didn’t flirt with you all whilst making sure not to be too overbearing on you or do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

It was a feeling that had you tingling all night.

“The dinner was fantastic, Y/N/N.”

Nanami grunts at the nickname Gojo had decidedly started calling you halfway through dinner, a name he’d picked up from Yuji, but you just smile at the man. Gojo is standing by the door to the apartment, a passed out Megumi in his hands. Yuji’s already been tucked into bed by Nanami twenty minutes ago when the two boys had promptly passed out on the couch together. Gojo had moved to excuse himself shortly after, of course with slight pressure from Nanami, who continued to have his arm around your waist, you tucked into his side as the both of you stood across from Gojo, seeing him and Megumi off.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, leaning into Nanami. “I’m sorry we kept Megumi up so late.”

Gojo shrugs, “nah, it’s fine. Suguru might be a bit upset, but…”

Your brows furrow, “whose Suguru?”

Gojo grins. “My husband.”

Your eyes widen and Nanami shakes his head from next to you; “yet you continue to flirt with my girlfriend.”

“Kento,” you mumble, turning to him embarrassed.

Gojo just laughs; “your girlfriend is very beautiful,” he grins over at you, and you glance down at your feet in embarrassment. “Besides, Suguru knows I love him.” Gojo rolls his eyes at Nanami, before turning back to you. “He’s actually out on a trip with the girls for the weekend. Left yesterday.”

Your lips part; “girls?”

“Yes, Megumi’s sister, Tsumiko, and two other girls, Mimiko and Nanako that we adopted.”

You let out a gasp, “oh my! That’s so wonderful,” you beam up at the man. “The six of you must be so happy.”

Gojo laughs; “I wonder about Megumi sometimes… He didn’t wanna go on the trip, said it would be boring but I think it was because he didn’t wanna miss seeing Yuji at daycare. The two of them are like two peas in a pod.”

Truly, you feel like your heart could melt. Turning to Nanami, you beam at him; “we’ll have to have Megumi over more often then.” Then, turning back to Gojo, you add; “and of course Suguru-san and the girls!”

Nanami frowns, but you don’t see it as Gojo grins back at you; “I’ll make sure to let Suguru know.” He assures, “now, I should go. I think I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You glance over at Nanami at that, noticing the frown on his lips and let out a light giggle as you nod at Gojo. With one final goodbye, Nanami opens the door for him, before shutting it the second he’s sure he’s gone. You watch as the man’s shoulders instantly sag the second Gojo’s gone and tilt your head.

“Do you really not like Satoru-san that much?”

His eyes widened; “no… no, it’s not that. I’ve known Gojo for a long time. He’s annoying, but he’s a… friend.” Then, stepping towards you, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just tired.”

His hands fall on your waist, tugging you towards him and you fall into him with ease, letting your head fall on his chest as you hum out softly. “I know. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ve got it.” Leaning back slightly, you press a kiss to his jaw. “Just get some rest.”

Nanami shakes his head; “no, you already made dinner for me tonight. I can help clean.”

“But–”

“No buts,” he smirks down at you. “I want to help.”

With a moment more of hesitance, you nod. And the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you work to tidy up from dinner. With the two of you, it’s cleaned a lot faster and before you know it, the two of you are already tucked into bed, kitchen clean, clothes swapped for more comfortable attire and feeling ready to pass out completely.

Just as Nanami presses a final kiss to your cheek, arm wrapped around your waist with your back pressed to his chest, you can't help but ask; “were you really jealous of a married man? Married to another man, no less?”

There’s a pause. Then, “...maybe.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #yuuji itadori #gojo satoru #satosugu

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nixwriteschaos · 8 months ago

Note

Ello! I just read your Dabi x Mother figure reader and I really really really loved it a lot! I was wondering if you could make a similar fic with the premise of Shigaraki x an older male reader who is a father figure towards him? You don't have to of course, I just really liked that Dabi fic and thought it was sweet!

A Father’s Love

Shigaraki x Male!Reader [PLATONIC]

Summary: Shigaraki grew up with an abusive father and a weak mother. He was traumatized after killing his whole family, and ended up living with All For One. It didn’t do any good for him, All For One was a controlling father figure who acted like he was doing what was best for him. All changed after recruiting a man with a unique Quirk.

★☽A/N: To be completely honest, A Mother’s Love is definitely one of my favorites!! That and Unexpected Interest. If you guys noticed my writing is slightly different, it’s either because I’m lazy, have improved, or have Writer’s Block… ANYWAYS, ENJOYYY!! <333

Contents: FLUFF & SLIGHT ANGST?

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

The League of Villains is a dangerous organization, known for their evil crimes. All orchestrated by All For One himself, a centuries old threat to Japan’s society. His successor, Tomura Shigaraki, isn’t much different from his mentor.

Tomura Shigaraki grew up with an abusive father and a weak mother. At age 4, he killed his whole family, leaving him alone with no guardian and ended up living with All For One. It didn’t do any good for him, All For One was a controlling father figure who acted like he was doing what was best for him.

All changed after recruiting a man with a unique Quirk.

He was an old soul, a man in his 40’s with a unique Quirk. His name was Y/N L/N, known by society as Poker Face for his card-related Quirk. He was recruited by Dabi a couple days ago and he had already made his impact in the League.

The reason why he was invited to the league was because of his Quirk, which allows him to have any ability to extract any meaning from a card and use it to his advantage. Despite being called Poker Face, the cards that he can only use are tarots cards.

Dabi deemed his Quirk useful and recruited him to the team. With time, he slowly went up the ranks and was side by side with the main league. He was hard-working and focused at any task he was given. He was an impressive addition to the team.

By the time he joined the main league, he became very well known in the LOV. Known for his fatherly aura. He used to have a daughter that would’ve been Shigaraki’s age if she hadn’t died in an accident. An accident that All Might failed to save everyone in. Because of this, his hatred towards All Might was born and it grew everyday by the amount of people praising him for his work.

Toga absolutely loved him! Her parents had always found her weird as a child. Y/N? He doesn’t give two shits about her quirks. “You want to drink my blood? Okay, just don’t drink it all!” He would say with a big smile on his face, offering his arm towards her. “You want me to find a bird to drink all its blood? Give me the whole afternoon and I’ll find you a juicy one!” Another thing he would say, a huge smile on his face.

Of course, his treatment towards her is different since he’s a girl dad inside and out.

Dabi was a bit defensive around him. Although he was the one who recruited him, he only did it for the sake of the LOV. (Shocking!) But, with time, he grew to love the man as a father who supported his dreams. Touya grew up with Endeavour as a child, who filled him with so much hope and expectations, only to tell him to give up because of his Quirk. Y/N wasn’t like that. Anything Dabi suggested, he would give a pat on his back and tell him “it’s a great idea!” with a thumbs up. He was like any old dad. But to Dabi, he was the best.

Due to Shigaraki’s past, he learned to not trust people. The only people he trusted were the main league, Kurogiri and “Master.” All For One wasn’t exactly the best father figure after his late father died. He wasn’t abusive, surprisingly, but was controlling and manipulative. He always said that he was doing what was best for Tomura and to trust him.

All these years, Tomura was brainwashed to think that All For One was the best thing that happened to him.

But he was wrong.

When Y/N greeted himself, Tomura saw him as a disgusting old man. He thought, How could an old man like him be so great? with a scoff. He didn’t even shake his hand!

Shigaraki was bothered every single day by the older man. Everytime he was having a tough time, he found it annoying that L/N would go out of his way to comfort him. Everytime he was motivated or had done something successfully, he was there to cheer him on.

Slowly, even though it was unintended, his trust in Y/N increased. He found it trustworthy enough to handle things on his own without having to report anything to him.

And by now, he trusted Y/N with all his heart. All For One did not like this “new recruit.” He found him distracting towards Shigaraki. He despised how Y/N was basically stealing his successor.

Shigaraki didn't know that he saw Y/N as a father figure. He was caring and much more considered than All For One. He couldn't believe he was comparing Y/N with All For One! The very being who saved him.

But he wasn't considering his opinions, he never was there when he was having his breakdowns.

Y/N was. In one of his breakdowns, he scratched his neck to the point it was red and blood started to seep out. All For One wasn't there, but Y/N was. He quickly helped him, stopping him from causing more damage to his skin. He helped him calm down and regain control over his emotions again.

He was kind enough to put some ointment or cream to treat his wounds. He was still shaking but Y/N didn't mind. He just smiled at him and reassured him that everything was fine.

That was probably the first time in ages. The first time he cried, sobbed, in ages.

He couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes. His body shook even more as tears started to flood his vision.

He didn't know if this was from relief or what. He didn't know why he was crying, he just was.

Y/N sort of panicked when he suddenly cried in front of him. He rushed to comfort him with a comically sweaty state. “Hey, hey, it's okay!” He embraced him and patted his back.

Shigaraki couldn't move, he didn't even hug him back. He just sobbed the entire time, wetting Y/N's shirt in the process. Y/N was still shocked by this reaction, unable to react except trying to soothe him by rubbing his back.

Let’s just say that Y/N is his favorite person now. More than All For One.. (AFO is definitely angry about this revelation).

Oh! And he’s not afraid to call Y/N “dad.” <33

☆════ ⋆★⋆ ════☆

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l0vem41l · 7 months ago

Text

mean when i'm nervous.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited as BAWLS, dc writer newbie but im very enthusiastic abt the comics and shows and movies, dog metaphor but insane and unsubtle, explicitly vigilante!reader in dick grayson’s part, dramatic asf but not really angst 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. bruce wayne, clark kent, richard "dick" grayson, and john constantine

author's note: so. we all know what my favourite thing right now is (⌒_⌒;) i still adore everything i used to write for,,, but i’ve been on my comic motives recently (*ﾟｰﾟ*) ! reading dc mostly but spider-noir and deadpool have been picked up along the way!!! um. anyways. if i get comfy enough, i might do more dc stuff but i get that this isn't my exact audience on this blog— sorry my loves (´＿｀。) </3 might write a part two cuz i love jason. and booster gold. and like every single one of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) halfway through writing this i realized everything feels very literal, so i feel the need to mention that this is not dog hybrid reader stuff but if u fw that u can imagine it that way

perhaps the habit of burning bridges you’re actively crossing isn’t a good idea. and you’re not an idiot, not in the slightest— but even if you were, everyone knows that needless self destruction when developing relationships is counterproductive.

you strike the match anyways, like it’s just a force of habit. another instinct.

if you spent life knowing that the hand only beats. why would you expect it to do anything else when it’s lowered towards you?

you learn to keep your hopes down, ears alert, and teeth sharp. you learn to get used to the taste of blood. to make things messy and complicated, and to end things when they need to be ended, because god knows it’s only self preservation when you do it.

you learn that the only way to survive is to bite— to hurt before something hurts you.

and one day, an unfamiliar hand that extends towards you decides to feed instead.

why do you still bare your teeth?

▸ BRUCE is unsure why he sticks around. he’s understanding, but also reasonably frustrated with your antics. it doesn’t evade him that they stem from something deeply rooted in your past— but he doesn’t know what to do about it. if there is anything to do.

at his core, he's a detective. he's got an eye for digging into strange pasts and a knack for knowing things he isn't supposed to. but in spite of his paranoia and hunger to know, bruce doesn't pry too much. he can do research on his own, without you ever having to realize.

you’re self-sufficient, he’ll give you that. you’re unsure sometimes of whether he’s proud that you can take care of yourself or irritated that you consistently insist on doing so. he’s unsure too. not like he lets you know.

it’s a mutual understanding the two of you share— he stays, you bite. yet bruce, unsurprisingly, doesn’t mind being bitten. he’d hope that the reason he’s sticking around is for the selfless reason of making sure you’re alright. though, the reality is, you’ve grown on him, whether you realize or not.

bruce has always been fond of strays.

▸ CLARK is nothing but patient. and that scares you beyond reason.

he sees the way you bare your teeth whenever someone gets too close for comfort to you. he knows when to back away, when to speak, when not to— he’s always attempting to never make you feel backed into a corner.

somehow, it makes you more anxious seeing just how much he understands about you. he knows just how to coax you out of the corner of your cage, how to bring you in closer, and it almost, almost convinces you to let your guard down.

the thought of that is terrifying.

you try barking, you try biting— and none of it works. clark doesn’t coddle you when you’re wrong— but he’s absolutely nothing but gentle. patient and understanding, sometimes you wonder how a man of steel can be so soft for someone like you.

▸ DICK isn’t dumb. it’s fairly easy for him to put two and two together. quickly, he figures out what he’s dealing with when he encounters you.

his conversations with you are never without a note of levity— a deliberate action on his end, you’re certain. he knows, you know, and because of it, everything feels oddly tense around him, even with the attempts to banter.

it’s too late to run. his observant gaze has caught a glimpse of you through your one way glass, and he’s chosen to meet your eyes with a smile. there's a sense of foreboding that gnaws at your gut, anxiously anticipating what might be lurking under that grin of his.

on his end, there are no malicious intentions. he doesn’t really have ulterior motives when it comes to you.

most times, he chooses to defend you and be the one standing at your side when no one else does. you don't understand why he insists on offering you friendship when all you do is pull away.

after a long night of patrolling the streets of gotham, you find the two of you leaning on the railing of a rooftop side by side. your eyes are on this cityscape of gotham. his are on you.

“you keep on insisting i’m not as bad as i seem,” you mutter under your breath.

late nights make for loose lips. he’s pleasantly surprised to hear you continue the thought instead of attempting to take it back.

“do you just hate being right?” you snort, allowing your gaze to flit over to him just for a second.

"no." dick smiles, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “i think you just hate the fact that i could be.”

▸ you tried not to bother with CONSTANTINE. the day the two of you met, you didn’t even introduce yourself.

john constantine’s presence alone reeks of trouble, as acrid and suffocating as the cigarette smoke that clings to his tan trenchcoat. you are attuned to things like that. he notices.

one thing you actually enjoy about him? he doesn’t chase. he’s a nosy one, for certain, sticking his nose into places no one in their right mind would— but for the most part, he steers clear of yours. initially, you think it’s because your urge to be left alone by him is so prevalent that he’s just chosen to heed the warning and not approach when unwanted.

but he’s not a man known for abiding by rules. he’s much more curious with you than you notice or prefer. in a way, your distance has made you more myth than man, more tale than tangible— you are a rumor passed through whispers between lips, a silent shadow lurking in the corner of the room… and he loves a good mystery.

“c’mon. you're actin’ like ‘m gonna bite your head off, luv,” he chuckles, lighting up the cigarette between his fingers.

i'd probably be the one doing that if i got any closer. you keep that thought in your head, standing with a gap between the two of you as always.

he doesn't miss how you avoid looking into his eyes like his gaze could murder, instead, focusing your gaze on the cherry of the cig, burning bright red.

“not much for a wee natter, hm?”

the quick shake of your head only makes his smirk grow. you could just walk away… so why exactly were you sticking around?

“fine by me. quiet company’s welcome.” that’s a sentence he’d probably never say to anyone else. in a strange way, he feels like he knows you well enough to be comfortable with the words that hang in the air.

it’s weird. you’re completely unknown, and yet, an irrational part of his mind keeps nagging at him to look just a little closer at you. sometimes, when he listens to it, he catches a glimpse of something silent in your eyes— an all too familiar pain of a person who can’t help but hurt the things that they cling onto.

so that’s why you’re keen on keeping everyone at arms length. it almost makes him laugh to think how similar the two of you are, plain as day, and yet unnoticed by you— a person who won’t even meet his eyes.

— reblogs always appreciated!

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buddieism · 8 months ago

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tommy's character, bucktommy's inherent flaws, tommy & eddie as mirrors and buddie endgame; a (lengthy) meta analysis

honestly, what's really confirmed my feelings about tommy (and the imminent bucktommy bones -> buddie pipeline) is that there have now been multiple opportunities for the writers to actually make tommy a likeable/serious love interest for buck and they just…haven’t. because while fans are naturally going to overanalyse every little thing, the vast majority of the show's audience are regular viewers who consume the show at face value and don't think twice about it -- so if tommy was intended to be buck's endgame or anything remotely close to it, they'd absolutely want to make the most of his (very limited) screen time to present him in the best light they could. think about karen, the only non-main LI, and how she was introduced to us -- despite hen's cheating, we can see how dedicated karen and hen are to each other and how karen is a complex character in her own right who is immediately easy to root for and love.

comparatively, when we look at tommy's s7 appearances and specifically his interactions with buck, it becomes abundantly clear that there isn't really much depth to their relationship at all. which is fine! it's just... you know. fine. let's get into it.

following the cruise arc, we watch tommy through buck's eyes in 7x04 where he's basically wining and dining eddie -- flying him to vegas, getting them front row tickets to a fight, sparring with him in muay thai, playing pick up basketball with him -- tommy and eddie are so similar (which we'll come back to later), and we even get that line from eddie about how well they "click." as the audience, we are being subconsciously told to align tommy and eddie together -- and furthermore, we are told that tommy can easily make grand gestures when he wants to. now let's compare that to the bucktommy moments of the season.

bucktommy's first date: tommy makes a shady comment that would have outed buck if eddie or marisol caught onto it and then proceeds to abandon him on the sidewalk because he thinks buck isn't "ready" for a relationship with a man

i'll be objective here -- i understand in a show like 911 there's always going to be "unnecessary" relationship conflict for the sake of drama and i can also see how buck trying to play off their date as platonic to eddie might have put a bad taste in tommy's mouth. but we hear from tommy himself that he struggled with being open about his sexuality when he was at the 118 so he could have absolutely extended some sympathy towards buck for not wanting to come out on the spot to his best friend -- especially when tommy fully knows how important of a role eddie plays in buck's life. at the very least, he didn't have to leave buck alone on the curb. this isn't me trying to woobify buck because yeah, he's a grown man, he's fine -- but that doesn't mean it still isn't a bit of an asshole move.

the bachelor party: tommy doesn't dress up for the theme and dismisses buck when he's clearly disappointed about him doing so

tommy showing zero interest for the bachelor party buck planned is practically the writers waving a massive red flag in front of the camera -- him having to leave because he's on call is an understandable 'conflict' plot point but why not have him show up in an 80s themed outfit? it wouldn't have changed anything except that he and buck would have had a positive interaction; buck would have been happy that tommy cared enough to make that small gesture and it could have been a cute way to establish their relationship as one built on mutual effort. (btw, the bucktommy hospital kiss could be seen as a big gesture, sure -- but from a more practical viewpoint knowing how rushed this season had to be, it was also just an easy way for buck to "come out" to the rest of the 118 without having to spend too much episode airtime on it.)

the medal ceremony: tommy says 'enjoy it while it lasts' (which, LOL) and also is not shown reacting to buck receiving his medal. he also has a conversation with henren in a deleted scene.

again, i'm going to try to give tommy the benefit of the doubt -- i'm not saying he has to be sunshine and rainbows all the time and i have no issue with a character having a snarky/sarcastic side. but when his screentime is so minimal, every line of dialogue matters. and it's pretty damning that the writers aren't taking those few chances to give us something to appreciate about him. with buck, tommy makes a dismissive comment for literally zero reason, and with hen and karen, who are rightfully looking out for their friend, tommy refuses to take them seriously at all.

bucktommy's dinner in the finale: buck displays some vulnerability about losing bobby, and tommy... really doesn't seem to care.

honestly i refuse to rewatch this part of the ep because it really icks me out on another level but iirc: buck says he's glad bobby's okay because bobby is like the father he never had -> tommy says "your father's alive" -> something something joke about daddy issues. ignoring #that joke entirely, it's really insane to me that they have tommy even acknowledge the nuclear bomb that is buck's relationship with his parents. yes, we had a bit of a ham-fisted 'redemption arc' in s6 but that doesn't negate the buckley parents being absolutely heinous and the fact that buck verbalises how bobby played the role of the father figure because philip didn't -- all for tommy to basically deny that to his face -- is absurd. tommy has expressed on multiple occasions that he's jealous of the 118 family bond, so this line is just... very interesting to me.

now, let's recap all these events and bring eddie back into the mix!

post-bucktommy's first date, buck is more torn up about the fact that he lied to eddie than the actual date to the point that he has to vent to maddie about it. he then comes out to eddie, who is incredibly supportive (and oliver and ryan make some very curious acting choices indeed). eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.

pre-bachelor party, eddie is the one to suggest he and buck dress in matching (queer-coded) costumes. he then stays by buck's side at the party when everyone else leaves and although we'll never get to see it (tim minear i'm inside your walls👹), they sing an absurdly romantic karaoke song together. eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.

during the medal ceremony, when the camera pans to each member of the 118's love interest/family, it is eddie we are shown smiling at buck, not tommy. this is especially interesting considering we get buck reacting to tommy. i honestly can't get over how a reciprocated tommy reaction would have been an easy yet significant moment to cement bucktommy as a relationship, but they gave us eddie's instead (with chris in the background and marisol conveniently obscured, mind you). eddie is reiterated as one of buck's most significant relationships.

in the final episode, when eddie is experiencing his personal worst nightmare, buck is the one at eddie's side every step of the way. buck talks to christopher, buck reassures eddie (without judgement), and it's made clear that buck will be there for eddie, whatever he needs.

at every possible opportunity, we the audience are being implicitly told that eddie is buck's person. he is his place of support (buck having his more vulnerable coming out scene with eddie rather than his sister); he has buck's back (the bachelor party); he is his family (medal ceremony reaction), and ultimately, this goes both ways (finale).

some other things worth noting: when buck has his coming out scene with maddie, she tells him he's confused about his feelings in a way that seems to indicate she's talking about his feelings towards eddie ("if you there's something you need to tell eddie, you will"). in bobby's conversation with buck in the firehouse, he's verbally supportive of tommy and even asks if buck is going to see him, but buck goes to eddie's house instead. these were deliberate choices made by the writers; eddie has been consistently intertwined in bucktommy's relationship both overtly and subtextually throughout the entirety of s7. and let's not even get into the whole 'evan' thing, because that could be a whole other post in itself.

from the first moment we start to learn about tommy's character (beyond his... coloured past), we find out that he and eddie are practically mirrors. why not make tommy and buck share similar interests? why not give them something to bond over? why present tommy and eddie as almost identical in every way? because tommy is a placeholder for eddie. buck's initial bisexuality journey can't happen with eddie when eddie still hasn't come to terms with his own feelings. so, in the meantime, tommy is the "safe" choice in buck's mind because buck has nothing to lose with tommy whereas he's got everything to lose with eddie. buck can't confront what he truly wants yet because the risk factor is far greater and it's been repeatedly asserted that buck has an issue with people in his life leaving -- he would never do anything to jeopardise his relationship with eddie.

but ultimately (and in my opinion, fairly soon), we are going to get that moment where it "clicks" for buck and he realises that it is eddie he has feelings for. and when that happens, there's basically only one way it can go. we know buck can't keep secrets from eddie; we know eddie is going into s8 feeling "isolated"; we know tim loves making his characters suffer before they can be happy. in my mind, the narrative is going to go something like this: buck feelings realisation -> pining buck era -> eddie healing journey and a reevaluation of what buck means to him -> some insane life-threatening situation that really doubles down on how buck and eddie care more about each other than anyone else because it is 9-1-1 at the end of the day -> love confession induced by their dramatic near-death experience -> #BUDDIE_CANON !

when we factor in how there was a possibility of eddie having the sexuality arc this season instead, how tim has said buddie is one of his favourite dynamics of the show, and how supportive both oliver and ryan are of the ship, i really can't see how everything isn't building to buddie endgame. every other main pairing of the show has had seasons of development, of conflict, of bonding moments. buck and eddie have gone through that with each other time and time over (tsunami/lawsuit/shooting arc etc), which is why every other random love interest that's introduced for either of them falls flat in comparison. they quite literally are exactly what the other person needs; buck wants the stability of a home, a family, and unconditional love; eddie wants someone he can trust, a caretaker for his son but also a partner. buddie is the ship the audience wants to root for, because we know they work! now that we have canonically bisexual buck and eddie finally having to face his complicated feelings about losing shannon, buddie isn't just the logical conclusion -- it's the inevitable one.

#if you made it all the way to the end of this mammoth post... thank you!#very curious to know what u guys think and if u agree/disagree #buddie meta #buddie analysis #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie theory #911 meta #anti bucktommy #<- not like... dramatically. but my stance is pretty clear!#eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc

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python333 · 2 years ago

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hi! i’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but if you aren’t feel free to ignore this!

anyways, i was thinking what would it be like if you were back on base and did something nice for everyone and made their fave coffee/tea while you’re all relaxing after a long mission? like how would the 141 react and what would you make for them?

that’s all but i hope you have a great day and i absolutely love your writings!! they seriously are so detailed and amazing, you do a beautiful job w each one💌

unwind — python333

— — — —

synopsis the 141 + you are back from a super long mission and u make them their fave coffee/tea!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

word count 3.6k

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], gaz being a little shit.

note thank you so much for the req!! i am taking them right now, but apologies if i post them 2+ days after i get them, my writers block is slowly creeping back into my mind and im fighting it off the best i can! also, thank you for the compliments :3 ilysm youre too nice!! i saw ur reblog of bedbound too and i was so sjdfksdfks!! hope u have a good day too and hope you enjoy this fic, it's all fluff and way too in depth descriptions of making tea/coffee!!

As soon as the electric kettle clicks, signaling to you that the water inside of it has been boiled, you unplug it and pour the water into a mug you’d pulled from the cabinets. It still surprised you that there were any mugs left, with how many people kept stealing to put on their desk to hold pencils—by people, you mean Soap, and only Soap—but you weren’t complaining.

You set the kettle back down once the mug is filled up just an inch below the brim and grab the tea bag you’d grabbed earlier, wrapping the string around the handle of the mug a few times before putting the bag itself into the water. Almost immediately, you see small tendrils of dark brown flow out from the drowned tea bag into the originally clear water.

As that happens, you walk the small few steps over to the small fridge from the kettle and open it, grabbing the small carton of cream and closing the fridge shut. You walk back over to the mug and unscrew the cap of the carton, pouring some cream into the mug, adding a half inch of height to the liquid already in the mug before screwing the cap back on and setting the carton down.

You don’t bother to grab a spoon and mix anything yet, instead reaching over to the small terracotta container beside the coffee machine that contained sugar, and taking off the lid.

You think for a moment if you should grab a spoon for this, but ultimately decide against it, instead just tipping the container over the mug and letting what you hope is two teaspoons of sugar spill over into the mug.

Afterwards, you put the lid back on the container holding the sugar and set it back next to the coffee machine, and grab the cream to put back into the fridge.

Once the cream’s been put back, you open the drawers in the counter and grab a small spoon, one that’s just tall enough that it won’t be fully submerged in the tea, and put it into the mug.

You close the drawer and give the tea a few stirs before picking up the mug, being careful of the scalding heat and holding it solely by its handle. You carefully walk out of the snack bar extension of the kitchen and head towards Price’s office.

After a year or two of working with him, you’ve learned a lot about his tea preferences—he likes Yorkshire tea, the original one, not the gold. He only likes cream and sugar in his coffee, just to make it smoother and make it a bit sweeter, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

You vaguely remember him telling you he’d never had honey or any other sweeteners besides a bit of sugar in his tea, and remember more vividly you thinking, God, that’s such an old person thing to say, but not saying it out loud.

Once you’ve reached his office, you knock a few times and Price’s tired voice calls out, “Come in!”

You open the door, careful to keep the mug from spilling in your hands, and walk in, closing the door behind you. Price looks up from his computer, presumably writing a report on the mission you’d all just come back from an hour or two ago, and offers a small smile when he sees you. He’s about to say something before he catches sight of the mug in your hands.

“Did you…” He doesn’t finish his question, but you know what he was about to ask, and you nod in response.

“If it’s too sugary let me know,” You tell him, setting the mug down a safe distance away from his computer, “I can remake it.”

“I won’t make you remake it,” Price looks at you, almost offended, “You didn’t have to make me anything in the first place, but thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You hum, walking away, saying over your shoulder, “Hope you like it.”

You open the door without another word and walk out, closing it behind you, heading right back to the snack bar. Now for Soap.

Soap typically preferred coffee to tea, despite tea’s popularity in Scotland. He’d told you that he really couldn’t taste the difference between different coffee blends, but upon hearing that there was a Scottish blend, he declared he’d only drink that one, because of course he did.

He pretended he could tell if the coffee he was drinking was of that Scottish blend, but you knew he couldn’t. How did you know? You’d only ever given him Scottish roast once. Every other time since then, it’s been French roast.

He’s never really used a coffee machine for himself, going to cafes or coffee shops most of the time for coffee, keeping his usual coffee order written in his notes app because he couldn’t remember it for the life of him.

He’d sometimes modify his order if certain coffee shops didn’t do certain things that he usually got, but his order stays mostly the same every time he gets coffee. Medium (or grande, if he’s at Starbucks) latte with a double shot of espresso.

Typically, he’d get some shortbread too, but you didn’t really have any in the base, so he’d have to do without it today.

Once you enter the snack bar, you grab another mug from the cabinets above the counter and place it under the coffee machine. You open the cabinets right by the ones that contained the mugs and grab a bag of ground French roast, pulling it out and putting it on the counter.

You open it up and find that there’s conveniently already a small cup in there to scoop the coffee grounds up, and use your free hand to grab a new coffee filter from the same cabinets you got the coffee grounds from, swiftly putting it into the machine.

You use your other hand to scoop up some coffee grounds and put them into the filter, closing the top of the coffee machine afterwards and turning on the machine. You’re grateful there’s more options listed on the small digital screen that lights up on the machine than just plain black coffee, not really in the mood to try and steam milk right now.

You tap on the ‘latte’ option and watch as the screen changes and hear the coffee machine start to whir.

As it does that, you put away the coffee grounds and open up the cabinets that contained mugs once again, pulling out a small espresso glass and setting it onto the counter.

You wait patiently for the coffee to brew, and once you hear the small beep sound from the machine that signals that it’s done, you pull away the steaming hot coffee and set it down right next to the coffee machine.

You quickly put the espresso glass under the machine and start it up again, this time tapping the ‘espresso shot’ option—surprised that’s even an option, honestly—and hearing the familiar whirring noise start up again. It doesn’t take nearly as long as brewing the latte did, the small beep coming much sooner than it did just a minute or two earlier, and you pull away the small espresso glass from the machine almost immediately after you hear it.

You pause for a moment, looking at how much the latte part had filled up the mug, and look around for a moment before opening up the same drawer that contains the eating utensils and grabbing a straw, putting the straw in the still hot latte—is that a good idea? No. Did you do it anyway because you physically can’t think before you act? Absolutely—and taking a long sip of it.

You pull the straw out once the liquid in the mug is at a good inch below the brim and then pour in the espresso shot, setting the glass down after you do so.

You look around for a second for a trash bin and find one just a few steps away from you, quickly throwing out the straw you’d used and then walking back over to the empty espresso glass, picking it up and setting it down by the sink. God forbid we get a dishwasher in here or something, You think absentmindedly as you pick up the mug and carefully walk out of the snack bar with it, Would it hurt to at least get some dish soap in here or something?

You make it out of the snack bar without burning your fingers and start the much longer walk to Soap’s sleeping quarters. You’d caught him walking out of his office in that direction earlier, so you can only assume that he’d gone there.

Once you make it there, you knock on the door a few times and wait for Soap to call out to you and allow you to come in before twisting the door knob and opening the door. He’s laying on his back on his bed, thumb paused on his phone screen as he looks over at you as you enter. He notices the coffee and sits up a bit, grunting as he does.

He wasn’t really as talkative after long missions like the one you’d all been on earlier—usually it took him a day or two to be more social and back to himself, so you didn’t take much offense to him not greeting you as loudly as he usually did.

He nods at the coffee, “Is that for me?”

“Mhm,” You hum, handing him the mug, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Got it,” Soap carefully takes the mug into his hands, and softly blows on it before looking at you again and grinning at you, “Weel, thank ye for this. Ye really didnae hae tae.”

“Price actually said the same thing,” You muse, almost to yourself, before speaking a little louder, “No problem.”

“Oh did he?” Soap asks, raising an eyebrow, before his expression shifts and he feigns confusion, “Wait, how come he got a drink afore me?”

“Because his office was closer to the snack bar,” You explain, crossing your arms.

“… Nae, it’s definitely ‘cause ye hate me,” Soap disagrees, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “And tae think I thought we were friends.”

“It is no— you know what?” You begin to argue, before sighing and rolling your eyes, “I do hate you, and we were never friends, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

Soap laughs, quieter than he usually does but it’s still a genuine laugh. He looks down at the coffee again and back at you, before saying, “Thank ye. Again.”

“No problem,” You replied, walking back towards the door and opening it, walking out of Soap’s sleeping quarters and closing the door behind you. Now for Ghost.

Ghost typically liked tea more than coffee, but you think that’s just the British in him talking. Realistically, you could give him either or, and he’d say a polite ‘thank you’ and move on.

From years of being apart of the 141, any preferences or additives he liked to put in his tea or coffee slowly dissipated and instead he just drank either one plain. Which should make the tasks you’ve forced yourself to do today easier, but knowing you, you just couldn’t take the easy route with this.

You remember a conversation with him that happened several months ago where you had been talking about your own tea and coffee preferences. Ghost had commented that he didn’t often put any additives in his own hot drinks anymore, but back before he’d joined the military, he liked to drink keemun tea occasionally with nutmeg in it.

Keemun tea—which was fucking expensive by the way, costing around sixteen pounds for twenty tea bags in every store you could find them in—wasn’t too hard to find, so the next time you went on leave after that conversation, you’d bought a box of bags of keemun tea leaves and some ground nutmeg.

You didn’t let Ghost know about it, and kind of forgot about it just a week after you bought it, but now the memory of you buying it and storing it in the snack bar behind a few other boxes of tea bags has resurfaced and it’s the only thing you think is appropriate to give Ghost at a time like this.

You get back to the snack bar and almost robotically you pull a mug out from the cabinets above the counter and set it down on said counter, deciding to grab another one just so that you wouldn’t have to do it later, and setting that one down right next to the other. You open the cabinet beside that and move some of the boxes out of the way to find the keemun tea box in the very back, right where you last left it.

You snatch it out of the cabinet and open it, pulling out a small packet and opening it up to pull out the tea bag inside. You go ahead and put the tea bag inside of the mug and put the tea box back in the cabinet, closing the small cabinet door afterwards.

You then grab the electric kettle that’s right by the sink and pop open the lid, putting it under the faucet and turning said faucet on, waiting until the water fills a quarter of the kettle. Once it does, you turn off the faucet and put the kettle down right by the outlet on the wall.

You put the lid down and wait for it to click into place before you plug the kettle into the outlet and press the small button below the handle to turn it on, and listen as it starts to make a small whirring noise. You don’t waste too much time just standing there, waiting for the water to finish boiling, instead putting the other mug you’d pulled out from the cabinets under the coffee machine and turning it on.

You tap on the ‘decaf flat white’ option and watch the digital screen change and another whirring sound starts up, now coming from the coffee machine.

You were starting to make Gaz’s while making Ghost’s drink because Gaz often made the mistake of drinking his coffee before it was cool enough to not burn his tongue, so if you made it earlier, it’d have more time to cool, and Gaz wouldn’t have to wait as long before drinking it, therefore solving the whole ‘burning-his-tongue-because-he’s-impatient’ problem he has.

Gaz liked simple flat whites, and sure, he liked tea too, but nothing could top a good flat white for him. He’d get them anywhere and everywhere he can, and you honestly admire his dedication to getting a flat white everywhere he goes.

The coffee machine finished up quickly, a small beep sounding from the machine as it stopped its whirring and a few more drops of coffee made it into the mug before it completely stopped. You pull the mug out from under the machine and set it aside for now, just waiting for the water to finish boiling in the kettle.

Once the kettle clicks and the whirring from that machine stops, you unplug it and pour some water into the empty mug you’d picked out for Ghost, waiting until it’s filled up about a half inch below the brim of the mug before taking the kettle away from the mug and pouring the rest of the unused water into the sink.

You set the kettle down beside the coffee machine where it belongs and check the drawer below the one that held the eating utensils, looking through some of the spices and drink additives in it before finally finding the ground nutmeg you needed.

You unscrew the cap and tilt the small spice jar over the mug, letting some of the powder spill into the mug before tilting it back and screwing the cap back on. You put it back in its spot and close that drawer, now opening the drawer above it and grabbing a small spoon, closing that one after you’ve grabbed the spoon and putting the spoon into the mug to mix the spices in it around a bit.

You leave Gaz’s mug on the counter, hoping that nobody steals it while you’re away, and instead pick up the mug meant for Ghost, carefully walking out of the snack bar with it.

Ghost’s office is fairly far away, but you still manage to get there without burning your fingers or anything on the mug. You knock on the door a few times and wait for Ghost to call out permission for you to come in before you open the door and walk in.

Ghost immediately looks over at you and spots the mug in your hand, but ignores it for now, instead opting to ask, “Did you need something, [c/n]?”

“Not really,” You shrugged the best you could while holding scalding hot tea, “Just needed to give you this.”

You set the mug down on Ghost’s desk before he can say another word, and watch as he eyes the mug with curiosity and confusion.

“What’s this?” He asks, carefully picking up the mug, holding the top up to his nose to smell it. Before you can answer his question, you see his eyes widen and he questions a little louder, “Is this… keemun? With nutmeg?”

“You can tell just from the smell?” You ask, mildly impressed, watching as Ghost’s gaze turns into one more in awe of the mug.

“Yes, I can,” He mumbles, smelling the brim of the mug again, before looking over at you, “How did you know I liked keemun with nutmeg in it?”

“You told me about it, like, a few months ago. Six months ago, maybe? I dunno.”

“How do you remember a conversation from six months ago?”

“It was an important conversation, I guess?” You shrug, crossing your arms.

You watch in silence as Ghost eyes the tea and you take that as your sign to leave, walking towards the door, stopping right in front of it to twist the knob to open it before you’re interrupted by Ghost.

“Wait—” You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder, and immediately upon seeing his face, you think, oh my God is he tearing up? “Thank you, [c/n]. I really appreciate it.”

You offer a small smile and reply, “Yeah, no problem. Enjoy your tea.”

You open the door without another word and close it behind you, taking a deep breath before continuing down the hall back to the snack bar.

You’re relieved when you get there and see the mug, still steaming a bit, still on the counter. You quickly walk over to it and pick it up, walking right back out the door with it and heading straight for Gaz’s sleeping quarters. You remember him being so tired from the mission—you don’t know whether to hope he’s asleep and getting some rest, or to hope that he’s awake so you can properly hand him his coffee.

Once you make it to his sleeping quarters, you knock on the door, and there’s no response for a few moments, making you think he might actually be asleep, but then you hear Gaz’s drowsy voice call out, “You can come in!”

You open the door and see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up on his bed, looking over at you. His lips twitch up into a small smile once he sees you and he lets his hand drop into his lap.

“Hey, [c/n].” He looks over at the mug you’ve brought with you, before raising an eyebrow, “You brought something for me?”

“Very bold of you to assume it’s for you,” You close the door behind you and walk closer to him, “But yes, it is.”

Gaz perks up a bit at that and happily takes the mug off of your hands once you hand it to him, and his smile grows significantly bigger once he sees you’ve brought him a flat white.

“It’s decaf, don’t worry,” You say, as if reading his mind, “I figured you’d still want some sleep after drinking it.”

“Always so considerate,” Gaz sighs teasingly, raising the mug to his lips like you’d thought he would. Thankfully, his tongue doesn’t burn this time after he sips the coffee, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the fact.

“You know me,” You respond dryly, crossing your arms as you watch Gaz take a few more sips of the coffee.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” Gaz thanks you, taking another sip of the coffee before stating, “I hope you know you’re my favorite now.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Just my favorite, in general,” Gaz hums, “This is the best flat white I’ve ever drunk. Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks,” You thank him flatly, “It was made with love and a coffee machine I learned how to use yesterday.”

“I can just taste the love in it.”

“Not the coffee machine?”

“Well, it’s a bit concerning if someone can taste the coffee machine in their coffee, innit?” Gaz raises an eyebrow at you before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Not if it’s the one I used.”

“Whatever you say,” Gaz mutters, taking yet another sip of his coffee, making you huff out a small laugh.

“You enjoy your coffee,” You say before walking back over to the door, closing the door behind you as you walk out and letting out a tired breath, starting to head back to your own sleeping quarters.

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