#US Coffee Market Trends | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoe4hotchner · 3 days ago

Note

Currently thinking about those Letting Gen Z Write the Marketing Script videos and how hilarious it would be if Gen Z reader had Hotch do the marketing video with their script

#FBIvibes | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gen-z fem!reader | WC: 1.6k | CW: Fluff

A/N: I have second hand embarrassment for Hotch.

It started, as most things did lately, with a meeting plotted into your calendar and a bizarre assignment from the Director himself, delivered in his office with all the gravitas of a man about to declare war.

Instead, it was worse.

“Public perception,” he said, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped like he was about to drop a bomb, “is in the gutter. We’re seen as cold, unapproachable, and—God forbid—out of touch. I want that fixed. I want social media presence. I want viral. I want the FBI to trend, Agent.”

Your brain hiccupped at the word Agent, the title clunking awkwardly in your head because unless “Agent” now meant unpaid marketing intern with a fake badge for building access, something had gone very wrong.

You blinked, your sunny disposition faltering for a split second. “Trend? Like… on the internet?”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding as if you’d just cracked quantum physics. “You’re young, you’re plugged in, you get it. You’re on those apps, aren’t you? TikTok, whatever else the kids are using?”

You nodded slowly, unsure whether to admit you’d spent hours scrolling through dog videos and unhinged cooking tutorials instead of reading your textbooks and studying. “Uh, yeah, I’m… familiar.”

“Good. Then you’re my point person. Create a series of videos to make us look approachable, human, relatable. Write the first script, get it approved, and then pick any department head to star in it. Someone with gravitas. Someone who screamed ‘FBI’ but still looked like they could charm the public.”

He was already halfway out the door before you processed that he was serious.

“Analytics will be watching,” he tossed over his shoulder, leaving you staring at his empty chair.

Two days later, you submitted a script titled: “#FBIvibes: Busting Crime and Serving Looks (No, We’re Not Like Law and Order).” It was a chaotic mix of quick cuts, dramatic zooms, voiceovers dripping with Gen Z slang, and a TikTok dance. It was almost like a scene straight out of The Office.

You’d written in a fake crime scene chase, a coffee spill for comedic effect, and a final shot of the department head doing the dance while holding a badge, all set to a remixed version of “Savage Love” by Jason Derulo.

The Director emailed back in seven minutes flat.

“Bold. I like it. Pick someone with a certain presence, someone who looked like they could arrest you with a stare. Let’s lean into the contrast between their demeanor and this… vibe.”

You sat back, scrolling through the FBI’s org chart like it was a menu at a hipster café. You eliminated the department heads who’d ham it up too much or, worse, enjoy it. You needed someone who’d radiate discomfort, someone whose mere presence screamed “I’d rather be chasing a serial killer than doing this.” The grumpier, the better.

Your eyes landed on Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The man’s face in his database photo looked like it was carved from granite, his jaw set like he was personally offended by the camera.

Perfect.

You pointed at his name during your follow-up with the Director. “Him.”

The Director raised an eyebrow, glancing at the chart. “Hotchner? The BAU chief? He’s… not exactly known for his warmth.”

“Exactly,” you said, your grin practically sparkling. “He’s got that ‘I could ruin your life with a single email’ energy. The internet will eat it up when he’s forced to do something as un-man-in-a-suit-like as a TikTok dance. It’s comedy gold.”

The Director stroked his chin, then nodded. “He’s authoritative, intimidating, but undeniably camera-friendly in a… severe way. Approved. I’ll send him the details.”

You didn’t hear a peep for a full twenty-four hours. Then, an email landed in your inbox from Hotch’s assistant, as cold and formal as you’d expected.

Unit Chief Hotchner will meet you at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow in his office. Bring all necessary equipment. You will have exactly thirty minutes. Do not be late.

You showed up at 8:29, bursting with energy, armed with a tripod, a ring light, your phone, a thermos of coffee (because you weren’t a monster), and an FBI-branded baseball cap you’d found in the gift shop that screamed: “I’m trying too hard.” You’d also brought a backup plan: a tiny evidence bag prop filled with glitter to symbolize “crime scene confetti.”

Hotch didn’t look up from his desk when you walked in. His office reeked of coffee and regret, and his eyes flicked to your ring light like it was a personal affront to his entire career.

“You’re early,” he said, voice low and clipped like he was already counting down the seconds until this was over. “You have twenty-nine minutes.”

You flashed your brightest, most obnoxiously cheerful smile, setting down your gear with a flourish. “Morning, sunshine! Ready to make some viral magic?”

He finally looked up, his expression a masterclass in barely concealed disdain. “I read your… script.” The word dripped with the same tone one might use for “biohazard.”

“And?” you asked, practically bouncing on your toes.

“It’s absurd. It’s unprofessional. It’s a mockery of everything this agency stands for.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “A dance? To… what was it, ‘Savage Love’? I lead a team that tracks serial offenders. I don’t do choreography.”

You nodded, undeterred, your grin only widening. “That’s the whole point, Agent Hotchner! The internet loves it when serious people do unserious things. It’s called irony. It’s giving ‘main character energy.’ You’re gonna slay.”

He stared at you like you’d just suggested he wear flip-flops to a crime scene. “I don’t ‘slay.’ And I’m not doing that dance.”

“Oh, you will,” you said, setting up the tripod with the enthusiasm of a kid decorating a Christmas tree. “The Director approved it, and he said I could pick anyone. You’re my guy. Think of it as… community outreach.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, and you could practically hear his internal monologue screaming for an exit strategy. “If I refuse?”

You shrugged, all sunshine and rainbows. “Then I tell the Director you’re not a team player. But come on, Hotch, live a little! It’s thirty seconds of your life. You’ve faced worse.”

“Don’t call me that!” He exhaled through his nose, a sound so weary it could power a small wind turbine. “Fine. But I’m not wearing that cap.”

You held it up, waving it like a matador taunting a bull. “We’ll see.”

He stood, adjusted his tie with precision, and muttered, “Let’s make this quick.”

The shoot was a glorious disaster. You directed Hotch through the script with the energy of a caffeinated golden retriever, while he moved like he was being held at gunpoint. The first scene had him walking down a hallway, badge clipped to his belt, looking like he was about to interrogate a wall.

“More swagger!” you called out, filming on your phone. “Channel your inner action hero!”

“I don’t have an inner action hero,” he deadpanned, not breaking stride.

“Perfect, that’s the vibe! Grumpy FBI dad energy, let’s go!”

The next shot was Hotch at the coffee machine, which you’d rigged to “malfunction” by unplugging it. He pressed the button, but nothing happened, and he glared at it like it was a suspect in a lineup.

“Cut! Now sigh, like, super dramatically,” you instructed, barely containing your giggles.

He sighed, but it was less “dramatic” and more “I’m reevaluating my life choices.” Still, it was gold.

The crime scene chase was next, filmed in a deserted parking lot behind the main building of the headquarters. You’d got Hotch jogging after an imaginary suspect, and you sprinkled glitter from the evidence bag for “aesthetic.” He stopped mid-stride, turning to you with a look that could curdle milk.

“Glitter?” he said, voice dangerously low.

“Crime scene confetti!” you chirped, tossing another handful. “It’s symbolic!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is not what I signed up for.”

The final shot was the pièce de résistance: Hotch standing in the middle of the BAU bullpen, badge in hand, attempting the “Savage Love” dance. You’d simplified it to a few arm movements and a shoulder sway, but he looked like he was being forced to swallow glass.

“I’m not doing that,” he said, halfway through the first move.

“Come on, Hotch, it’s for the vibes!” you pleaded, clapping your hands. “The internet will love you!”

He finished the dance, if you could even call it that, with the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows. When it was over, he pointed at the camera.

“This was the last time.”

You beamed. “You’re a natural, boss.”

He walked away without another word.

The video:

TikTok #1: FBIvibes 🎵 “Savage Love” remix blaring [Hotch strides down the hallway, face grumpy like a storm cloud.] Voiceover (your voice, dripping with enthusiasm): “Think the FBI is all suits and shootouts? Think again. It’s paperwork, coffee fails, and vibes.” [Cut to Hotch glaring at the broken coffee machine.] Voiceover: “When your coffee’s DOA, but you still gotta catch bad guys.” [Cut to Hotch jogging through the parking lot, glitter raining down.] Voiceover: “Chasing suspects? More like chasing clout. #CrimeSceneConfetti” [Cut to Hotch in the bullpen, doing the world’s stiffest “Savage Love” dance, badge in hand.] Voiceover: “When your boss makes you go viral but you’re secretly a legend.” [Final shot: Hotch stares at the camera, deadpan: “This is not my job.”] Caption: Day in the life of a very serious unit chief at the FBI. #FBIvibes #HotchSlays #NotLikeTheMovies #DirectorMadeUsDoThis

The video exploded online, hitting 2.7 million views in twenty-four hours.

The comments were a fever dream:

“Grumpy FBI guy doing the Savage Love dance is my new religion 😭🔥”

“Why is Agent Hotchner lowkey serving tho 👀 #FBIvibes”

“The glitter??? The FBI is unhinged and I’m here for it 💀”

Hotch avoided you for three days. On the fourth, you got an email.

From: Hotchner, Aaron

Subject: Your Video Project

The Director is pleased. I am not. Next time, I choose the terms. No glitter. No dancing.

You grinned at your screen, already brainstorming the next trend.

Challenge accepted, Hotch.

276 notes · View notes

daydreamgoddess14 · 2 months ago

Text

💫 For Your Consideration - Act 4 - Part 1 💫

actor!Bucky x fem!actress!Reader (no use of y/n, l/n, reader is not described in any great detail. I save that for the gowns 💃)

Warnings: Hollywood AU, language, internet nasties, flirty!Bucky, a little power imbalance, age-gap (Bucky is around 40, actress reader is closer to 30 or younger if you prefer 🤭)... more to be added later.

Bucky Barnes, the suave and talented leading man of the 'Winter Soldier' movie series, finds himself on the red carpet circuit during awards season with his latest film 'The Howling Commandos'. But the season takes an unexpected turn when he crosses paths with a mesmerizing newcomer - the actress who has become the talk of Tinseltown with her captivating performance in her most recent film. Sparks fly as they navigate silly season in Hollywood, with a spotlight on their every move will their chemistry ignite a real life romance?

Yes guys, we've reached the bit where my chapters get a bit too long & I had to split the chapter 🤭 Because of the images, I tried to keep the word count to a manageable 6.3k.

If you've been reading this so far and commenting or reblogging, thank you so so much. Honestly, I'm having a blast working on this one, coming up with the ideas for media, the storyline itself... this one's a real treat for me so I'm so grateful you like it too! Feel free to come and talk to me about it, my inbox is always open 💕

Tagging: @winchestert101

< Prev Act | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Next Act >

DECEMBER 2025

You’d turned off notifications for everything except your dad.

Instagram. Twitter. TikTok. Even the group chat.

Every time you opened your phone, it was another headline. Another screenshot. Another “did you see this edit?”

You’d watched the interview back once, and only once, before burying your face in a pillow and groaning so loud the neighbors probably heard.

The chaos didn't seem to be dropping off at all.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like the attention. It was just…

You didn’t know what he thought.

And that uncertainty was deafening.

You were on your third cup of tea that day, curled in a hoodie that smelled faintly like your stage dressing room, when your phone buzzed.

You expected more noise. Another trending topic. Another edit.

What you didn’t expect... was him.

The only person other than your dad that you hadn't muted, because you had no reason to.

Because you had no reason to expect a message from him.

You stared at the message.

Then you stared some more.

What…?

You reread the message five more times.

There was no way he meant that for you.

There had to be someone else he'd meant to message instead.

Your stomach did a backflip, and not in a good way.

You almost didn’t reply. Almost just locked your phone and pretended it never happened.

But then your fingers moved faster than your fear.

…. did you mean to send me that?

You tossed your phone onto the bed like it was a grenade, and paced your flat.

This had to be a mistake. Right?

He’d seen the chaos, the memes, the speculation. He probably wanted to clarify something. Do damage control. Set boundaries.

Tell the world to fuck off…

Another buzz.

It was real.

Oh.

You sank onto the edge of the mattress.

He wasn’t doing damage control.

He was asking you to get coffee.

Your hands trembled as you typed back.

And then you dropped it in the group chat.

You got there ten minutes early.

Which meant you’d already walked up and down the street twice, circling Borough Market like it was a reconnaissance mission and not a desperate attempt to look like you weren’t desperate.

The weather was grey and brisk, not fully committed to the depths of winter just yet, but definitely on board with the festive season.

You clutched your scarf like a lifeline, eyes flicking over every passing face. Tourists. Shoppers. Locals. No him.

You checked your phone.

Nothing.

It was fine. You were fine. If anything, this was a good thing. Gave you time to breathe. To remind yourself not to read into anything. It was just coffee. Just two people who’d done an interview and -

“Hey.”

“Oh, shit!” You jumped.

He was standing right in front of you, dressed like someone trying not to be recognized, hoodie, sunglasses, coat zipped high.

And yet now you were looking, it was unmistakably him.

“Oh my God. I didn’t even see you.”

He smiled, tugging down his hood slightly. “That’s the idea.”

You stared at him for a second too long before catching yourself. “Right. Incognito.”

“Stealthy,” he teased, eyes crinkling with that quietly smug charm.

God.

You were in trouble.

You fell into step beside him, the rhythm surprisingly easy, like you’d done this a hundred times before.

“So, you're in London,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I am, for a few days,” he nodded.

You glanced over at him. “Did you, uh… happen to notice the internet melting down after the interview aired?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Kind of hard to miss when your friends won’t stop sending you edited fancams set to Taylor Swift.”

“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands. “I’ve seen those. There’s one where they slowed down the hug and put a Hozier track under it. It’s so embarrassing.”

He bumped your shoulder, grinning. “I liked that one. Got your good side.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to.”

There was a moment of silence, not awkward, charged, maybe as you stepped in front of him to move single file through a busy section.

Then he added, quietly from behind you, “Didn’t hate it, though. All the noise. Not if it gave me an excuse to talk to you again.”

You were glad he couldn't see your face.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, gesturing at the rows of stalls. “Pastries? Cheese? Some questionable fusion street food?”

You glanced around, grateful for something else to focus on besides the steady thrum of nerves in your chest. “Questionable? Some of the best food in the city is made here. And, yes, you should try these -” You spotted your favourite bakery stall and waved at the owner.

“Hey Jan, two of the cinnamon please,”

“You're back, love, how's it been going?” The older woman cooed.

“Busy, so busy,” you handed over a fiver and took the paper bag from her, passing it behind to Bucky.

He grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

“If I don't see you before, Jan, have a lovely Christmas,” you beamed as she blew you a kiss and moved on to the next customer.

You paused at another stall selling fresh coffee, the scent practically illegal. He bought two, handed you one without asking, and continued walking like this was… normal. Like this was just how things went with you two.

“Still think you messaged the wrong person,” you mumbled around a bite, motioning vaguely with the pastry. “I read it at least five times before I believed it.”

Bucky shot you a look. “I meant to message you.”

“Sure you didn’t, like, panic and message the only person you know in London, or something?”

He laughed, and you felt the sound somewhere uncomfortably deep in your stomach. “Nope. Fully intentional. Which… might’ve been dumb.”

You looked up at him. “Why dumb?”

He hesitated just long enough for your heart to stutter.

“Because now I want to keep messaging you,” he said simply.

And just like that, Borough Market disappeared for a second.

You were halfway through your cinnamon bun when Bucky veered off course without a word, slipping away to help a flustered dad carry a buggy up the steps by Southwark Cathedral.

You watched him rejoin you, brushing his hands off as if helping strangers mid-date was standard practice.

“You’re really on the charm offensive, huh?”

He glanced at you, brow raised. “It working?”

You gave a little shrug, smiling despite yourself. “Maybe.”

“Guess I’ll keep it up, then.”

There was a moment, easy and warm, and then you added, “you do realise you’re setting the bar pretty high for any future coffee dates, right?”

He grinned, his eyes flicking to yours.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not planning on sharing my pastries with anyone else.” He leaned in just slightly, voice warm. “Besides, I’ve got to earn a second coffee somehow.”

He gave you a look, playful, but lingering just long enough to make your breath catch.

Just then, a loud group of tourists rounded the corner, jostling through the narrow walkway between stalls. Without thinking, Bucky reached for your elbow, guiding you in closer as the crowd passed.

Your shoulder brushed his chest, his hand warm and steady against your arm. You could smell cinnamon and the faintest trace of his cologne, something subtle, expensive.

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing.

And how much you didn’t mind.

Bucky nudged your shoulder lightly with his. “You’ve gone quiet on me. That cinnamon bun wasn’t that good.”

You gave a half-laugh, still watching the crowd. “I was just thinking… in a few months, this will all be over.”

He frowned. “The awards stuff?”

You nodded. “The buzz. The interviews. The... whatever this is,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the space between you.

He frowned. “You think it all just… ends?”

“Of course it does,” you said with a small smile. “Eventually I’ll be back doing eight shows a week somewhere. Maybe I’ll get a West End run if I’m lucky. And someone might go ‘oh, isn’t she the one from that film?’ And then…” You shrugged. “They’ll forget.”

You took a step back and carried on walking, but he didn't join you immediately.

He was quiet for a minute too long, until you turned and found his eyes fixed on you, serious, searching, still frowning.

“You really think that’s how this goes?”

You smiled again, soft this time, and shrugged, “how many actors have been to the Oscars and then disappeared?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t say anything. Just fell into step beside you again, quiet for a stretch as your words hung between you like fog. You wondered if he was trying to think of something reassuring to say. Something practical. But when he finally did speak, his voice was low and thoughtful.

“I don’t think I could forget you if I tried.”

You turned your head, surprised, a flutter kicking up in your chest.

He gave a small, lopsided smile, gaze forward again like he hadn’t just shifted something huge between you.

Your cheeks flushed despite the chill in the air. He glanced down at you, a spark of something warm flickering in his eyes.

The crowd thickened again ahead, breaking the moment.

You found a quieter nook between stalls, the hum of the crowd dimmed just enough to breathe.

You lingered there for a minute, the sounds of the market washing around you, muffled and distant.

He didn’t say anything more, but the silence between you wasn’t awkward, it was waiting.

Eventually, you tipped your head toward a nearby stall. “C’mon,” you said, voice low. “Let me get you something more festive than a coffee.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Trying to butter me up with wine now?”

You smiled. “Trying to stop you looking at me like that without a drink in my hand.”

He let that one slide with a smirk, following you without protest.

You left him to find a spare table amongst the Christmas shoppers and on your return, handed him a steaming cup of mulled wine. He accepted it with a quiet thanks, his fingers brushing yours, warm and steady.

“Do you always go this incognito?” you asked, watching the way he scanned the crowd even now, like he was still half on alert.

“Old habit,” he said. “Too many premieres and press lines. It sticks.”

You nodded, sipping slowly. “You don’t like it much, do you?”

He glanced at you, eyes thoughtful. “The work, I love. The rest of it? Not really built for that part.”

“You seem like you handle it fine.”

“That’s the trick,” he said, mouth curving slightly. “If you do it just well enough, they stop asking you to do more.” He shifted a little, his knees bumping yours under the table.

You tilted your head. “Is that the plan? Stay just under the radar?”

He gave a soft huff of laughter, looking down into his cup. “Something like that.”

A pause passed between you. Comfortable. Curious.

Tethered by something neither of you had quite named yet.

“You surprised me, you know,” you said, voice light, almost teasing.

That drew his eyes back to yours, sharp and curious. “Yeah?”

You tapped your fingers against your mug of steaming wine, the nerves buzzing somewhere deep under your skin. "I figured after the interview chaos, I'd be the last person you'd want to see. I definitely didn't think you'd... reach out."

He chuckled, low and rough, and leaned in a little across the table. His knee bumped yours under the table again, lingering this time. "Guess you’re just worth the chaos."

That earned him a grin, which he answered with a wicked one of his own.

You ducked your head, pretending to focus on your drink, but you felt the heat of his stare, heavy and warm. When you dared to glance up, his gaze had flicked, just briefly, to your mouth.

Your breath caught, you swallowed nervously.

The hum of the market faded away for a second, like the two of you existed inside a bubble.

“You know the internet thinks you're some kind of recluse?” You said, hoping to buy yourself a second to avoid doing something reckless.

He smirked, slow and devastating. "Better not tell them about this, then."

“And you don't date…”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I’ve dated,” he said eventually. “Just... never liked sharing it with the world. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

You nodded, quiet for a moment.

“That makes sense,” you said softly. “The more people watching, the less of it you get to keep.”

He looked at you then, like he hadn’t expected you to get it, not really.

You finished the wine and took the mugs back to the counter. You walked a little slower after the stop off. Neither of you said as much, but you certainly didn't quite want the day to be done.

The crowd thinned as you neared the river, your footsteps falling in sync again, closer now. A few brushes of your shoulders. A stolen glance. Eventually, the shimmer of station lights came into view. It felt too soon.

At the edge of the station, the two of you hovered at the line between stay and go.

“I’m really glad you messaged,” you said, eyes on him now, not hiding it.

His lips curved, slow and deliberate. “I kept thinking about what I’d say if I did. It wasn’t my smoothest opener.”

You laughed, the sound softer this time. “No, but it worked.”

A breath passed between you, light but charged.

“I had fun,” you said honestly, your hand brushing his as you reached up to adjust your scarf.

He caught your gaze, lingering now. “Me too. I was hoping I would. But you sort of blew that expectation out of the water.”

Your heart tripped a little.

You stepped back a half-step. “Well. I guess… I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

The promise in his voice made you smile as he dipped his head, just a little, and turned into the crowd.

And somehow, despite the chaos of the last week… you felt lighter.

You didn’t know where this was going.

But you wanted to find out.

You watched him go, the crowd swallowing him up one careful step at a time.

Just as you turned to leave, a thought caught you, sudden, sharp.

“Oh, and good luck tomorrow!” you called after him, unsure if he heard it, but saying it anyway.

A second later, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Thanks, doll. You too.

And just like that, you were smiling all over again.

He should’ve known coffee wouldn’t be enough.

He’d told himself it was just a catch-up. Just a friendly hello. Just a way to say thanks for not making that interview awkward as hell and maybe a kudos for handling the following shitstorm like a pro.

But then she smiled at him like that. Laughed at his dryest jokes. Got flustered when he held eye contact too long. Teased him like they’d met more than just once.

And that was the moment he was screwed.

She’d tucked her scarf tighter against her neck, one hand balancing her takeaway cup, the other brushing his arm when they walked too close.

It wasn’t even deliberate.

That was what made it worse.

Or better.

He wasn’t sure yet.

Borough Market had been a blur, busy and loud, festive and chaotic, but she made it feel almost quiet. Like it was just the two of them weaving between the stalls.

She didn’t seem to mind the chaos.

Didn’t flinch at the attention.

Didn’t even seem to notice the camera phone or two he’d spotted. Or maybe she had, and just chose not to care. That was the part that stuck with him, she didn’t perform.

He’d expected the goodbye to be awkward. A vague see-you-around, maybe a polite nod.

But instead, she’d looked up at him like she didn’t want it to be over either.

And when she called out after him in the station, her voice clear and sure over the crowd, just to say good luck, he’d nearly turned back just to see her smile again.

And now here he was, back in his hotel room, coat still on, replaying every second like a damn teenager.

He’d been surprised when her message came through, he'd barely been in the room a minute.

He stared at it a second longer than he meant to, thumb hovering.

Then he replied.

Simple. Measured. Safer than I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you walked away.

Her teasing reply came quickly and he let her have the last word.

He set the phone down, stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t date. Didn’t do flirty message threads or smile at his screen like an idiot.

But there she was. Unbothered, funny, warm, and making him do all of those things.

He still wasn’t sure what the hell he was doing.

And for the first time in a long time… he didn’t mind.

Nominations were a thing other people got.

He never used to care about mornings like this, he never had any reason to. His movies occasionally showed up in stunt or FX categories. There were no expectations or disappointments.

But this morning?

He was watching his phone like a hawk.

The Critics Choice. The Globes.

Announced on the same day, and right as he needed to leave for the airport.

He watched the rain on the taxi window, forcing himself to stop waiting for it to ring.

It vibrated in his hand before the sound rang out.

“Sam?”

“Bro, you did it.”

He could hear it in Sam’s voice - that slightly stunned pride, like he’d been holding his breath for Bucky even if Bucky hadn’t asked him to.

“Globes and Critics. Best actor. Best film. Yelena’s up for Director at the Globes -"

“Not Critics?”

“Nah, man. That last spot went to the Cabaret director.”

“Shit.” He breathed, “holy shit.”

“I know,” Sam said, laughter threading through his words now. “It’s crazy. I’m proud of you, man. It’s all happening.”

Bucky felt something catch in his throat. “Thanks. I… yeah.” He exhaled. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Look, get your flight, get some rest. I’ll send you the links.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Congratulations, man. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Sam rang off and the phone sat idly in Bucky's lap.

It lit up with the links Sam had promised.

He opened the Golden Globes one first.

His name.

In a bolded list, alongside people he’d admired for years. Best Actor in a Drama.

His film. Best Picture.

Then he saw hers. Just underneath.

Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical.

His heart gave a weird, full sort of jolt.

He wasn’t surprised - she was so good, everyone had seen it, but seeing it there in print made something in him go still.

She deserved this.

She belonged here.

He was proud. Maybe a little awestruck.

And without thinking, he opened their messages.

Maybe it was the way her laugh still echoed in his head… That coffee date hadn’t just stuck with him, it had dug in.

The way she’d smiled up at him over her cup, that flutter of nerves she’d tried to hide, the way she’d lit up when he called her talented.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Or her.

Congratulations on the nomination, sweetheart. I told ya.

He waited maybe half a minute before locking his phone and tossing it on top of his bag like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t listening for it to buzz again.

It did. With messages from Yelena, from Joaquin… even a begrudging congratulations from John.

But her reply was the one he went to first.

A purple heart. He stared at it longer than he should’ve.

Then she sent a follow-up, bright and warm, something in his chest tightened. She made it easy. Too easy.

It wasn’t flirting. Not exactly. But it had that hum beneath it, the pull of something neither of them was saying outright.

And he could’ve stopped there. Could’ve left it polite.

He didn’t.

She was teasing him again by the third message. Playful. Open.

He’d tried to keep it cool.

But God, she made it hard.

And somewhere between their teasing and half-joking plans to grab coffee when they were back in the same city, he realised no amount of distance was going to save him.

Maybe she felt it too.

Or maybe he was imagining it.

Either way, he found himself typing out messages he didn’t send. Wondering if she was doing the same.

And then, it slowed.

Not because he wanted it to.

Not because she wasn’t still on his mind.

Just… life pulling at them both. Interviews, work calls, suit fittings. And maybe he wanted her to miss him a little too.

So after a few days, he felt it more than he meant to.

He'd become aware of the space she’d started to take up in his brain.

Of the way her name lit up his screen.

Of the way he kept checking, wondering which of them would be the first to crack.

It was always going to be him.

The next morning, before he could even finish his coffee, with the time difference closing in, he tapped the little camera icon beside her name.

What the hell was he doing?

The call rang. Once. Twice.

Then nothing.

Missed.

He cursed under his breath and ran a hand over his face. He never did shit like that. Never called people without warning. Never let nerves climb up his spine like this.

He fired off a quick dignity recovery message.

But then a new reply popped in.

Missed your call! I'm in LA getting glam for a press shoot, not quite decent rn. Hope everything’s okay x

He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head.

He was in deep.

Mid-morning in LA, you were sitting cross-legged in your hotel robe, trying not to overanalyze every single message in your inbox, when it came in:

Missed video call – Bucky Barnes

You froze. Your thumb hovered over the screen.

Then another buzz.

Didn’t mean to spook you. Just wanted to say hi.

You made a small, inhuman sound and flung the phone across the bed.

“Ok,” you called, your voice sounded too high, and strung out even to your own ears. “Ok what the hell am I meant to do with that?”

Lulu appeared in the doorway, makeup brush in hand, eyes immediately narrowing. “What did he do?”

“He FaceTimed me. And then messaged like it was normal.”

Dani’s voice came from behind her, mid-straightener pass. “Like, just now?”

“I mean, who does that? It’s illegal. That’s an illegal level of confidence.” You couldn't help sounding accusatory.

Lulu snatched up your phone from the bed. “Oh my god.”

“I haven’t replied,” you said, already spiraling. “Do I reply? Am I supposed to reply? Or is it weird if I reply too fast?”

Dani raised an eyebrow. “Babe, the man video called you. I think you’re allowed to text him back.”

Lulu handed your phone back with a snigger.

You tried to stay cool, fire off a super casual reply that didn't sound like you'd thought about nothing but him for the last few days.

“You know what you need?” Lulu said thoughtfully.

You groaned. “I swear to god, if you say a thirst trap I will disown you -”

“A classy thirst trap,” she corrected. “A little bit sexy, little flirty…”

In the background, Dani nodded sagely. “She's right. Robe shot. On the bed. Soft lighting. You’re welcome.”

“C'mon Dan, the fucking bed?”

She pointed at the bed next to the tray where your breakfast was still laid out.

“Bed, now.” She clicked the straighteners together menacingly.

You posted the photo five minutes later then threw your phone onto the bed and tried to pretend you weren’t watching it like a hawk.

It took him exactly three minutes.

You let out a gasp so dramatic that Dani nearly burned herself with the straighteners.

Lulu peeked over your shoulder and cackled. “Pack your bags babe, you’re done for.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Oh, I’m in so much trouble.”

You weren’t imagining it. The post had blown up.

By the time your glam was done, you had texts from your publicist, your brother, and your ex (weird), all asking some variation of: “What’s going on with you and Bucky Barnes?”

You did not have an answer.

The comments were worse.

You didn't reply, this internet storm was his own making and you had to get to work.

The shoot ran long, lighting delays, a wardrobe change, a stubborn clasp on the back of a couture gown that nearly had Becka in tears. By the time you got back to your hotel room, your feet were aching and your face hurt from smiling.

You dropped your bag, kicked off your shoes, and finally checked your phone again.

The notifications were still rolling in, but you didn't dare entertain them.

Instead, you opened his message thread.

You hovered for a second, thumbs ready.

“You just can’t help breaking the internet, can you?”

You stared at it for half a second too long before hitting send.

Then you put your phone on charge across the room and let yourself fall back against the duvet.

“Can’t believe you commented,” Bucky muttered, arms crossed, cap low over his eyes like he could hide from the consequences of his own actions.

Across the aisle, Sam didn't even look up from his phone. “Me? You openly declared you'd like to eat her for breakfast, my friend.”

Bucky scowled. “I did not -”

“You did. The internet’s melting down. I’m getting tagged in memes. Again.”

Bucky shifted in his seat, muttering something about it not meaning like that.

Sam just smirked. “Uh huh. Tell that to the girl blushing in her Instagram story right now.”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his jaw, suddenly very interested in the in-flight safety card. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You threw a match in a comment on a thirst trap.”

“It was hardly a thirst trap.”

Sam gave him a look. “She posted it five minutes after your call. That’s tactical warfare, man. And you walked straight into the line of fire.”

Bucky leaned back, head thunking against the seat. “She looked good.”

Sam grinned, triumphant. “There it is.”

A second of quiet passed before Bucky muttered, “I’m in so much trouble.”

“You’re in so much trouble,” Sam agreed cheerfully. “But it’s the fun kind. You know, until it’s not.”

That earned a side-eye. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Hey,” Sam shrugged, “you brought this on yourself, pal. Just don’t catch feelings if you’re not ready to do something about it.”

From across the aisle, Natasha didn’t even look up from her iPad. “You video called her and then commented publicly. Do you want us to set up a billboard on Sunset?”

Bucky groaned. “Nat…”

“I’m just saying,” she said, flicking through looks for the pre-Globes party. “It’s a bold move for someone who allegedly doesn’t date.”

Sam leaned over, smirking. “Told him it was tactical warfare. She posted that robe shot five minutes after he called.”

Nat finally looked up. “She knew what she was doing.”

Bucky muttered something inaudible and tried to sink lower into his seat.

Sam grinned. “Oh, he’s cooked.”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully. “Good. He’s overdue.”

Bucky shot her a glare. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. Which is why I’m making sure you don’t screw it up.” She tossed him a look over the top of her iPad. “You’re wearing the navy suit, by the way. No arguments.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue.”

“Good.”

The pre-Globes party was already buzzing when he arrived.

Flashbulbs sparked outside with a light that burned through his retinas and left an imprint on his brain. The braying crowd made him want to turn around and call it a night. But Nat had shoved him out of the car with a sharp “Chin up, soldier,” and there wasn’t much point in arguing with her. There never was.

Inside, it was all polished floors and too many famous faces in one room. Everyone dressed like they had something to prove. He tugged slightly at the collar of his navy suit, and ignored the way Sam grinned at him like he was waiting for something to happen.

Because he was. They both were.

His only saving grace was that there were no press invited, only a handful of official photographers.

He hadn’t seen her yet.

Not in person.

Not since the coffee.

And none of the photos he had seen had done her justice.

He was still scanning the crowd when Sam bumped his shoulder. “Don’t look now,” he said, low and gleeful, “but your breakfast just walked in.”

Bucky turned anyway.

And there she was.

Like all of his Christmases come at once.

She hadn’t seen him yet.

It gave him time to watch her. Take her in. The way she laughed with someone by the bar, hand fluttering to her collarbone. The way the soft fabric of her dress caught the light when she moved, like it had been made to be touched.

“Half the men in this room wish she was on their arm tonight,” Sam muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Bucky didn’t answer.

She'd moved to stand near the balcony doors, a flute of champagne in hand, laughing at something Steve Rogers murmured in her ear. Her dress caught the light every time she moved, like liquid. Steve leaned in closer. Easy, familiar, his palm resting just barely at her back.

Bucky’s jaw flexed.

She'd glanced around once or twice when she first arrived, scanning the room, with a little knit between her brows like she was looking for something. Or someone.

He hadn’t moved.

He wasn't sure his legs would actually work. Not when she looked like that - entirely unaware that she’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

Natasha appeared at his side, swirling her drink. “You plan on lurking all night?”

He didn’t answer.

She followed his gaze. “Ah. Of course.”

“It’s not -” he started, then stopped. “He's her co-star.”

“And he’s not her type,” Nat assured him after watching them for a few seconds.

“Yeah?” He tried to sound casual.

She smirked. “Because you are, dumny. Watch, every few seconds she's looking around for someone.”

His breath caught.

Nat patted his chest twice. “Go get your girl, Barnes. Before Steve steals your thunder.”

He threw her a quick smile and took off confidently across the room.

He watched it hit her, the moment she spotted him. Surprise. A flicker of nerves. And then that soft smile. Lit from the inside.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she looked him up and down.

Bucky swallowed hard.

God, she was beautiful.

Steve greeted him with a grin and clapped him on the back. Bucky answered on autopilot, eyes barely leaving her.

“Good to see you, pal.”

“You too. You clean up alright.”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass, like she was trying not to stare. But he caught the flicker in her eyes, the dip of her gaze, the flush blooming just under her highlighter.

“Figured I had to bring my A-game,” he said, only half a joke, because it was true.

Her smile curled slow and knowing. “Well, consider the internet broken.”

He smirked. “It’s good to see you again too.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve cut in, clearly missing the current, “you guys did that Variety thing. That was fun.”

“Lots of fun,” she said, eyes still locked on Bucky.

Steve launched in without noticing. “You gonna do that new one with me? That 1940s piece? Thor Odinson’s signed on to direct.”

Bucky forced a chuckle. “I dunno, Rogers. I might try theatre. I hear that’s where the real talent is.”

“You could be onto something. Matt Murdock got the rights to that space opera thing for Wanda to direct on Broadway.”

“Starlord,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off Bucky.

“Yeah, that’s the one!”

Her glass was empty. She shifted her weight, just a little, but he noticed.

Time to move.

“Rogers, I’ll catch you later?”

Steve clapped his shoulder again. “Count on it. You’re not weaseling out of Odinson’s movie.”

Bucky turned to her. “I’ll walk you to the bar.”

She didn’t answer. Just smiled, and moved, and that was answer enough.

The crowd was loud, electric. But next to her, everything softened..

When they reached the bar, she turned toward him, and he leaned in, just enough to be close, not enough to cross the line.

“You look incredible.”

Her breath caught. Just for a second. But he felt it.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said, voice low, almost shy, but he noticed the tiniest movement of her eyes going to his mouth.

That hit harder than he was ready for.

“Yeah?” he murmured, eyes fixed on hers. “That’s a relief, sweetheart. Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

She didn’t look away. Didn’t laugh it off. Just looked up at him like she felt it too, like this thing between them wasn’t just in his head.

And in that moment, he knew.

He needed to kiss her.

He looked past her, just briefly, remembering the layout of the room, and then touched her wrist lightly.

“Come with me?” He murmured. Pleaded, just a little.

She looked confused, but did as he asked, following him to the outskirts of the room where he ducked into a corridor.

“Is everything OK?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah, I just… yeah.”

“Probably not a good idea, hiding like this?”

“I know,” he dragged a hand across his jaw and then stepped closer to her before he could doubt himself. “I don't do this,” he whispered.

“Don't you?” She breathed.

“No. Not like this. Not… where anyone could… I can’t think straight unless I’m looking at you.”

She looked up at him, her tongue darting across her lower lip.

He reached out and trailed its path with the pad of his thumb, his hand coming to rest in the crook of her neck.

He heard her sigh as she reached up to meet him, her small hands on his chest. He was cautious, not wanting to rush her, but wanting everything at once.

As he pressed his lips to hers, he heard a faint moan, unsure whether it came from him, or her.

She tasted like champagne and something sweeter, something he hadn’t had in… such a long time, but suddenly couldn’t get enough of.

Her fingers curled in his lapel, steadying herself, or maybe pulling him in closer. He deepened the kiss just slightly, but only when he felt her pull.

Her tongue tentatively swept against his and she whimpered.

When they finally broke apart, her forehead rested lightly against his. Neither of them moved.

“OK?” she whispered, like she was asking some unspoken question that only he knew the answer to.

He huffed a soft laugh, the kind that only came from total, stunned relief.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers. “OK.”

He wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. All he knew was that he needed to feel her, not just her hand on his chest, not just her whisper in his ear, he needed more. Needed her.

She stepped into him like she didn’t even notice she was doing it, like her body had made the decision before her mind caught up. His hand slid down her spine, anchoring her to him as their mouths found each other again, harder this time.

The kiss turned messier, more desperate.

His fingers gripped her hip, her nails scraped lightly across his chest and up to the nape of his neck. It wasn’t polite or careful, it was dangerously public but he couldn't bear to stop himself.

She gasped softly when his teeth grazed her bottom lip. He pulled back just enough to hear the sound, to see the dazed look in her eyes, then kissed her again.

It should’ve just been a kiss. Just one stolen moment in a hallway. But the way she kissed him back, like she’d missed it somehow, it undid him.

Her lips were swollen and her hands shook as she moved them from around his neck.

He didn’t step away.

For a second, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the muffled beat of music from the other room and their uneven breaths.

“Buck?”

Sam’s voice called out, somewhere down the corridor.

She tensed. He did too.

“Shit -, I look -”

“You look perfect,” he told her.

He took a reluctant step back, eyes flicking toward the doorway, then back to her.

“Later?” he asked, voice low. Hopeful.

She gave an uncertain nod, then she was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just knocked the air out of his lungs and left him trying to disguise how tight his pants had gotten.

And he was left staring after her, heart hammering, wondering how the hell he was supposed to act normal now. Or ever again.

107 notes · View notes

slvbum · 20 days ago

Text

♡ Meet ItGirl!Reader

ItGirl!Reader who despite her meteoric rise remains grounded, often chatting with fans on the street or sharing coffee with her team.

ItGirl!Reader who’s deeply empathetic, uses her platform to uplift emerging designers and advocate for inclusivity in fashion.

ItGirl!Reader loves mixing high-end pieces with flea market finds, draping a cosy knit scarf over a tailored trench for that effortlessly cool vibe.

ItGirl!Reader authenticity shines through in everything she does. She’s not chasing trends, she’s setting them by staying true to herself.

( MASTERLIST )

#slvbun #ItGirl!Reader₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎#drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fic #mike faist x reader #mike faist #mike faist fanfic #mike faist fic

64 notes · View notes

thedialoguedilemma · 5 months ago

Text

The Dilemma Bulletin: Monday January 27th, 2025

Keeping you informed about the daily events of the Trump Administration

China releases an AI source called DeepSeek set to rival ChatGPT and OpenAI. China claims it created this AI at a fraction of the cost causing US markets to trend downhill.

China releases an internet communications satellite set to rival Starlink.

NVIDIA has fallen out of being the world’s most valuable company after losing $600 billion dollars in market capitalization today under the Trump administration

Trump continues to threaten tariffs on nations that don’t agree with his policies which will skyrocket prices for everyone.

A January 6th terrorist that was pardoned and released into the public by President Trump was shot and killed by police during a traffic stop in Indiana following an altercation.

The Trump administration has instructed public health officials across the United States to stop working with the World Health Organization effective immediately as bird flu cases rise in the US

After Trump threatened Colombia with tariffs this past Sunday, coffee prices have risen in expectation of possible trade war with Colombia.

President Donald Trump announces a tariff on foreign semiconductor chips which will cause electronics such as refrigerators, game consoles, tvs, computers to all skyrocket in price.

Trump claims the United States military entered California and just “turned the water on” What does that even mean????? The pumps were temporarily off for a 3 day maintenance and are now up and running.

Trump says Microsoft is in talks to acquire TikTok

Google Maps updates Gulf of Mexico to Gulf of America despite every other world country still referring to the body of water as the Gulf of Mexico

Trump expected to sign an Executive Order banning transgender people from the military. Will be challenged in court.

Legoland Florida announces massive upcoming layoffs as a result of Governor DeSantis and President Trump leadership

Trump announces an idea of wanting to fly American criminals to other countries who will incarcerate them for "a small fee". Again— will be immediately challenged in court.

104 notes · View notes

shashi2310 · 1 year ago

Text

#US Coffee Market size #US Coffee Market growth #US Coffee Market trends #US Coffee Market opportunities

0 notes

unholybacon355 · 9 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 4 - Minatozaki Sana x Kim Dahyun

Kinktober Masterlist

Dahyun wasn’t sure anymore that this deal benefits her, and couldn't remember why she agreed with this. Of course the main reason is that she isn’t able to say no to her girlfriend, the one and only Minatozaki Sana. When she asks with that smile and her puppy eyes there is nothing on this earth that Dahyun wouldn’t do for her. And when Sana came home with a gift Momo made to them (Damn Momo, this is her fault in the first place) of course it was a matter of time for Dahyun to give into her pleas. And of course was her who ended using the damn toy.

The little box Momo gave to them contained a small vibrator that could be activated with an app, one of those toys that for some reason was trending at the time, and all the streamers use. But Dahyun or Sana were not in that kind of business. Sana worked on marketing and Dahyun was part time barista at a local coffee shop, while waiting to graduate from college.

On this particular day Sanan has been working since lunchtime on her own corner at the shop, while Dahyun was on duty serving coffee and giving to the customers the pastries they brought. And what made it so unfair was the fact that Dahyun was the one wearing the toy at work and Sana was the one turning up and down the intensity of the vibrations. The constantly movement of the toy on her inside was like some kind of torture to Dahyun, who was much more a girl of vanilla sex, and wasn’t used to walk around her workplace with her underwear completely ruined.

Ok, Dahyun wasn’t used to this kind of sensation or this “fear” to make a weird face when Sana turned the toy to the max level for a few seconds. But the fact that they both were the only ones in the entire world that knew what was really happening kinda turned her on. The way her internal walls were clenching around the toy and her clit was demanding to be touched have made things to her.

“Everything ok honey?” Sana asked with her most innocent tone when Dahyun left over the table the cinnamon roll her girlfriend just ordered. The korean girl wasn't able to elaborate a response because at that very moment Sana turned the toy at the max level and instead of turning down after a few second, like the other times, this time she just let it there while Dahyun pressed together her legs and lips, forcing to stay inside her mouth the moan that was threatening to escape from her. The innocent smile on Sana’s face was the last thing Dahyun could tolerate at this point.

Still trying to walk with her thighs the closer she could, because Sana didn't turn off the toy, Dahyun headed to the small service bathroom they have at the shop for the employees, and locked the door behind her. Very soon her jeans were around her knees, and she allowed herself to touch her crotch still covered by the thin fabric of her panties. Immediately a shiver ran through her spine to her entire body

Dahyun’s cute white panties were completely soaked, ruined, there is no way she could use it again. Not in a million years could she clean the stain of fluid, not even washing the garment every day for the rest of her life this could be clean again. They were ruined and the toy inside her was still moving at a demonic speed making her release more fluid over the already flooded pantie.

But suddenly the buzzing sound coming from Dahyun’s center stopped letting her feel a little bit of relief, during just five seconds because that was the time it took Sana to knock on the door. “Are you ok Dahyun-ah?” Why did her coworkers let Sana come to check her? They knew about their relationship, that wasn't any secret, but still Sana wasn’t supposed to be allowed to be there. “Everything is ok?” Dahyun could not tolerate this. She has been being physically teased for hours and now her girlfriend is even verbally teasing her. That was seriously too much.

Sana wasn’t able to knock again because Dahyun opened the door and practically pulled her inside the small bathroom. “You know how I am. Now take care of what you have done.” Again not letting time for Sana to make a move Dahyun glued her lips over her girlfriend’s still grabbing her by the blouse collar. Of course Sana didn’t waste time and kissed back putting all the arousal she had builded over the day watching how her girlfriend had troubles keeping the calm when the toy was vibrating inside her at maximum speed.

Soon Dahyun was pressed against the wall with the toy buzzing again, this time just at a medium speed, and Sana´s fingers playing with her delicate folds over the soaked fabric of the panties. They were suppressing their moans with each other's mouths, parting ways just for a few seconds to catch a breath and leave small kisses here and there.

Quickly Sana’s expert fingers pulled aside the fabric to freely play with Dahyun’s small pleasure button. Her clit was so sensitive that even the small touch sent jolts over her entire body, already making her legs shake and causing her troubles to stay standing. Her entire weight was pressed against the wall while Sana replaced the toy with her own fingers. If that wasn't blasphemy Dahyun would have said that it felt like heaven.

More moans, more kisses, more pushing and pulling from Sana’s fingers, and especially more fluids coming from Dahyun center. Now it was Sana's hand that was covered by the thin layer of sticky fluids, making the movement of her fingers even more easy. Like if Dahyun’s center wasn’t already gladly receiving them. Like if Sana wasn’t able to feel her internal walls clenching against her digits and her girlfriend’s clit throbbing over the touches of her thumb.

Dahyun was so close. That was evident by the way she was practically shaking, biting her lower lip to repress her moans while Sana kissed the right spot on her neck. Or by the way she was pushing her hips against her girlfriend’s hand, seeking more friction. Dahyun was really close.

The Korean graved Sana´s face by the sides and kissed her again, putting all her effort to moan directly on her mouth while the strongest orgasm she had had on moths hitted her body. The tremors were almost uncontrollable causing Sana to use her free hand to help Dahyun to support her weight, while the fingers on her other hand were almost crushed by the way Dahyun’s insides were convulsing on the unholy dance of the sexual climax.

Once Dahyun’s body stopped shaking and her feet could support her weight again Sana kissed her forehead in a very romantic way, as if just a few moments ago her fingers hadn't been buried deep in Dahyun's cunt. But recovering her mischievous behavior after this lovely show of affection, Sana put her fingers on her mouth and started cleaning Dahyun’s slick form her hand, always making eye contact. While her girlfriend could just stare at her still having troubles breathing normally. “Gonna say to your boss that you have tummy aches. I think Jihyo won't have a problem giving you the afternoon off. ” Sana said after leaving her fingers all clean, and with that she left the small bathroom leaving Dahyun there, with her jeans still around her knees, her pantie ruined than ever, and the toy still buzzing on the floor.

#twice #twice smut #saida #saida smut #sana smut #dahyun smut #fanfic #kinktober 2024 #kpop smut

108 notes · View notes

marketdevelopment · 1 year ago

Text

France Coffee Market Size, Share, Types, Products, Trends, Growth, Applications and Forecast 2023 to 2030

France Coffee Market is Expected to Grow at a Significant Growth Rate, and the Forecast Period is 2023-2030, Considering the Base Year as 2022.

The coffee industry in France is rich in culture and history, and coffee shops and cafés are beloved social hubs. French coffee drinkers have a wide variety of coffee alternatives, ranging from traditional espressos to innovative specialty brews.

In France, home brewing is becoming more popular due to the ease of access to internet shops and subscription services. The market for premium, hand-crafted coffee beans has expanded as a result of this change.

Customer decisions are heavily influenced by ethical and sustainable factors. As consumers' preferences for ethically sourced and ecologically friendly coffee products expand, coffee businesses are being forced to modify their product lines. The French coffee market is still thriving because it combines sustainability with changing consumer demands and history.

Get Full PDF Sample Copy of Report: (Including Full TOC, List of Tables & Figures, Chart) @

https://pristineintelligence.com/request-sample/france-coffee-market-98

Updated Version 2024 is available our Sample Report May Includes the:

Scope For 2024

Brief Introduction to the research report.

Table of Contents (Scope covered as a part of the study)

Top players in the market

Research framework (structure of the report)

Research methodology adopted by Worldwide Market Reports

Leading players involved in the France Coffee Market include:

"Starbucks (USA), McCafé (USA), Costa Coffee (United Kingdom), Columbus Café & Co (France), Malongo Café (France), Paul (France), Café Richard (France), Cafés Folliet (France), Segafredo Zanetti (Italy), L'Or Espresso (Netherlands), Nespresso (Switzerland), Lavazza (Italy), Illy (Italy), Carte Noire (France), Cafés Legal (France), Monbana (France), Cafés Méo (France), Caribou Coffee (USA), La Maison du Café (Maxwell House) (USA), Café Liégeois (Belgium) and Other Major Players"

Moreover, the report includes significant chapters such as Patent Analysis, Regulatory Framework, Technology Roadmap, BCG Matrix, Heat Map Analysis, Price Trend Analysis, and Investment Analysis which help to understand the market direction and movement in the current and upcoming years.

If You Have Any Query France Coffee Market Report, Visit:

Segmentation of France Coffee Market:

By Forms

Whole Coffee Beans

Ground Coffee

Instant Coffee

Coffee Pods & Capsules

Espresso

Others

By Source

Arabica

Robusta

By Speciality Coffee

Single-Origin Coffee

Micro-Lot Coffee

Organic Coffee

Direct Trade Coffee

Cold Brew & Nitro Cold Brew Coffee Others

By Process

Caffeinated

Decaffeinated

By Flavors

Vanilla

Caramel

Hazelnut

Mocha

Cinnamon

Others

By Distribution Channel

On-trade

Off-trade

By End-Users

Individual Coffee Drinkers

Coffee Shop Patrons

Office & Workplace Consumers

Catering & Hospitality Industry

Bakeries & Dessert Shops

Others

What to Expect in Our Report?

(1) A complete section of the France Coffee Market report is dedicated for market dynamics, which include influence factors, market drivers, challenges, opportunities, and trends.

(2) Another broad section of the research study is reserved for regional analysis of the France Coffee Market where important regions and countries are assessed for their growth potential, consumption, market share, and other vital factors indicating their market growth.

(3) Players can use the competitive analysis provided in the report to build new strategies or fine-tune their existing ones to rise above market challenges and increase their share of the France Coffee Market.

(4) The report also discusses competitive situation and trends and sheds light on company expansions and merger and acquisition taking place in the France Coffee Market. Moreover, it brings to light the market concentration rate and market shares of top three and five players.

(5) Readers are provided with findings and conclusion of the research study provided in the France Coffee Market report.

Acquire This Reports: -

About Us:

We are technocratic market research and consulting company that provides comprehensive and data-driven market insights. We hold the expertise in demand analysis and estimation of multidomain industries with encyclopedic competitive and landscape analysis. Also, our in-depth macro-economic analysis gives a bird's eye view of a market to our esteemed client. Our team at Pristine Intelligence focuses on result-oriented methodologies which are based on historic and present data to produce authentic foretelling about the industry. Pristine Intelligence's extensive studies help our clients to make righteous decisions that make a positive impact on their business. Our customer-oriented business model firmly follows satisfactory service through which our brand name is recognized in the market.

Office No 101, Saudamini Commercial Complex,

Right Bhusari Colony,

Kothrud, Pune,

Maharashtra, India - 411038 (+1) 773 382 1049 +91 - 81800 - 96367

Email: [email protected]

#France Coffee #France Coffee Market #France Coffee Market Size #France Coffee Market Share #France Coffee Market Growth #France Coffee Market Trend #France Coffee Market segment #France Coffee Market Opportunity #France Coffee Market Analysis 2022 #US France Coffee Market #France Coffee Market Forecast #France Coffee Industry #France Coffee Industry Size

0 notes

marketinsight1234 · 1 year ago

Text

South America Coffee Market: Global Industry Analysis and Forecast 2023 – 2030

South America Coffee Market Size Was Valued at USD 17,124.87 Million in 2022, and is Projected to Reach USD 23,726.58 Million by 2030, Growing at a CAGR of 4.16 % From 2023-2030.

Espresso beans are roasted to make coffee, a type of beverage. It tastes tart and acidic and has a somewhat black appearance. Because it contains caffeine, coffee has a very clean effect on its drinkers. In the global market for warm drinks, it has the biggest sales volume.

Due to its status as a major producer and exporter of premium coffee beans, South America has a substantial market share in the coffee industry. Much of the world's coffee is produced in nations like Brazil, Colombia, Peru, and others in the region. Because of its wide variety of tastes and cultivars, the South American coffee market is a major supplier of both specialty and commodity-grade coffee beans.

stands out as the world's greatest producer of coffee, both in South America and globally. It is renowned for its expansive plantations and variety of coffee-growing locations. The nation's output has a significant impact on coffee prices worldwide. Conversely, Colombia is well-known for its premium Arabica beans, which are prized for their well-balanced acidity and subtle flavor. Notable production levels of Arabica and specialty coffee are also produced in other nations, such as Ecuador and Peru.

Brazilian production of coffee, especially Arabica and Robusta beans, has a significant impact on market availability and pricing. Colombia, which prioritizes quality over quantity and is well-known for its premium Arabica beans, is also a major player in the international market. The specialty coffee market in Peru is expanding and is becoming more and more well-known for its distinctive and flavorful beans that are grown in lower amounts while maintaining an emphasis on sustainability and quality.

Get Full PDF Sample Copy of Report: (Including Full TOC, List of Tables & Figures, Chart) @

Leading players involved in the South America Coffee Market include:

Atlantica Coffee, Juan Valdez Café, Olla Negra, Cafe Britt, Don Francisco's Coffee, Pachamama Coffee, Volcanica Coffee Company, Cafe La Virginia, Fazenda Cambara, Solides Café, Iguaçu Coffee, Cafe Sello Rojo, Cabrales S.A., Pilão Coffee, Cacique de Cafe Solúvel, Cafex Colombiana, Procafecol

The latest research on the South America Coffee market provides a comprehensive overview of the market for the years 2023 to 2030. It gives a comprehensive picture of the global South America Coffee industry, considering all significant industry trends, market dynamics, competitive landscape, and market analysis tools such as Porter's five forces analysis, Industry Value chain analysis, and PESTEL analysis of the South America Coffee market. Moreover, the report includes significant chapters such as Patent Analysis, Regulatory Framework, Technology Roadmap, BCG Matrix, Heat Map Analysis, Price Trend Analysis, and Investment Analysis which help to understand the market direction and movement in the current and upcoming years. The report is designed to help readers find information and make decisions that will help them grow their businesses. The study is written with a specific goal in mind: to give business insights and consultancy to help customers make smart business decisions and achieve long-term success in their particular market areas.

If You Have Any Query South America Coffee Market Report, Visit:

Segmentation of South America Coffee Market:

By Product Type

Whole Bean Coffee

Ground Coffee

Instant Coffee

Coffee Pods

Capsules

By Variety

Arabica

Robusta

Canephora

By Distribution Channel

On Trade

Off Trade

By Region

South America (Brazil, Argentina, Rest of SA)

Importance of the Report:

• Qualitative and quantitative analysis of current trends, dynamics and estimates;

• Provides additional highlights and key points on various South America Coffee market segments and their impact in the coming years.

• The sample report includes the latest drivers and trends in the South America Coffee market.

• The report analyses the market competitive environment and provides information about several market vendors.

• The report provides forecasts of future trends and changes in consumer behaviour.

• Comprehensive fragmentation by product type, end use and geography.

• The study identifies many growth opportunities in the global South America Coffee market.

• The market study also highlights the expected revenue growth of the South America Coffee market.

Our study encompasses major growth determinants and drivers, along with extensive segmentation areas. Through in-depth analysis of supply and sales channels, including upstream and downstream fundamentals, we present a complete market ecosystem.

If you require any specific information that is not covered currently within the scope of the report, we will provide the same as a part of the customization.

Acquire This Reports: -

About Us:

Office No 101, Saudamini Commercial Complex,

Right Bhusari Colony,

Kothrud, Pune,

Maharashtra, India - 411038 (+1) 773 382 1049 +91 - 81800 - 96367

Email: [email protected]

0 notes

dallasgallant · 4 months ago

Text

Time period post- appliances and thrift

Originally was going to skip making this post, as I thought it’d be boring but I was informed (many times) how it was wanted. Going to combine appliances and some thrifting and shopping related things. As I think it would be beneficial, as the boys are poor/impoverished so we should look at some of that side of purchasing - as many of my general time period posts are very middle class to soc range (at least in the images of new cleaned and polished) Home related posts;

Here and here

Something to keep in mind is location and the community. Some places, especially smaller towns take a long time to change or update, a lot of “mainstreets” or “squares” in older parts of town have the same buildings or styles from maybe even when they were first built or at least updated in the 1960s and still look like it today. So imagine back then! Lol. Even if a community has a rich minority, like the socs- that’s no guarantee the area modernizes into something brand new over night.

Convenience, gadgets and built ins-

Truly the time to be a lover of the gadget or the trinket. The continuation of post war production boom and making products with the idea of convenience in mind. A lot of it was ridiculous but really there was some cool stuff. The big trend was : Automatic and electric.

Electricity and electric things had really started to take to the public in the 1880s and we never really stopped electrifying basic items. Notable cases here; Electric knife, electric beaters/mixers (still hand held but not done by hand), electric/motorized can openers.

Gadgets! Things that would’ve been done by the stove and the over now with dedicated little devices. Now toasters and waffle irons and grittles had already been around for some time but were booming. Meat grinders (electric ones anyway), roasters, blender, drip coffee maker, hot trays/warming trays.

Another reason for the rise in gadgets or specific tools like a warming pan would be just how popular hosting and throwing parties was. (Much more soc). At the same time as more specific gadgets were made there was also a trend of combining! As kitchens were small and again, connivence.

You’d also see radios or even later counter tvs (impossibly tiny) pop up in kitchens.

Laundry-

A lot of homes at the time would only have one bath, especially if older and it was likely added in (if very old), so forget a laundry room. However, they were slowly rising in popularity and bathroom numbers too in more modern homes. Laundry machines did exist for a while but it’s sort of like electricity and AC some people didn’t have them or are still getting around to getting them — and when they did it’d sometimes be on the porch or garage or where they’d fit.

Laundromats would populate towns, still do but in this case it was less common than today to have a full set and bonus gadgets in your home. (Though your iron etc at home) or maybe there’d be a woman who does it for the neighborhood or apartment complex etc (headcanon Steve’s mom as a washwoman. I know they still existed but all the info I get is 1700s Scottish women… I feel insane)

Not so fast -

The world wasn’t like it is with microtrends and using/wearing/having something for a week or a summer and then tossing it out. There were trends but far longer lasting, and if someone was to make a commitment to say doing their home in a design trend, once all that work is done they wouldn’t change it for years (some never do! Look at all the untouched houses on the market every so often)

Appliances were made to last and often came with a Warranty, either discounted or free replacement or repair for a certain period of time. If you’re lucky a lifetime warranty. This stuff was built to last a lifetime! Tough, dependable, durable. It’s why the “garage fridge” exists in so many middle class homes today, it’s out of style but it still works perfect so now we have a soda fridge or extra storage.

Honestly if you had to replace or update annually back then it’d probably be seen as a bad or cheap product!

This isn’t to say people never updated, or changed based around style. But you first have to have the money for it and two it’s a treat, not a regular occurrence. So maybe in 10 or 20 years if you need new kitchen appliances or would like to restyle you go for it.

Thrift and used-

Especially relevant to the guys. Think it’d be rare if they bought a single thing new - that wasn’t used or loaned etc

Thrift stores, surplus stores, charity’s, churches, there’s always been ways to get things at a much more affordable rate. Even thrift food stores in some circumstances (no it’s not pre used).

Used car lots were also incredibly common, honestly it’s how most kids got their first car. Most people really! Now if you didn’t get totally swindled.

Thrift isn’t just relegated to physical thrift stores either, a lot of local businesses (places that aren’t the department store or major chain) would often have a used section or “used store”. Appliances, records - just about anything.

Layaway! A store sets an item or a bunch of purchases aside and you make incremental payments until the purchase is paid off. Then it’s yours. (Began during the Great Depression)

Rental, and rent to pay started conceptually post ww2 but Rent-A-Center itself was founded in 1973 so I’m not completely set on renting.

Coupons! Another way to save money and be able to make purchases, given in newspapers, adds, by the stores themselves. Rewards programs really kicked off in the 60s, one of the most common being S&H Green Stamps. (Some hang on the builtin board in the museum.) these would be gotten at check out and some other businesses and collected by customers, to be redeemed for items from their catalogs. You could get everything from appliances to makeup from how you saved and spent.

While I’m not getting into it, I did include thrift and some other things that are more relevant to the boys -> 1964 Food Stamp Act that saw the Creation of SNAP (food stamps) would be huge. However programs stem all the way back to the depression once again, more here

They Would have way older appliances and machinery- 40s old sometimes. Boys specifically have a Dixie stove and this old washer is an assumption of mine (if they had one at all!!)

#the outsiders #outsiders #time period post #1960s #writing help #time period post : Appliances and thrift #home appliances #thrifting #writing reference #writing resources

31 notes · View notes

grntre23 · 4 months ago

Text

modern day things jsmn characters would love:

segundus: excruciatingly detailed tea ceremonies, wearing his pjs till they have holes in the sleeve hems, afternoon baking television specials, subscribing to science magazine periodicals, indoor plant gardening, trader joe’s, (being a teacher) and decorating his classroom, weekly (gossipy) neighborhood book clubs, keeping a physical journal on him at all times, independent booksellers

childermass: not being on social media, niche tarot draw youtube videos, the concept of irish goodbyes, using the oldest working phone model possible, bed on the floor no frame, wearing sunglasses indoors, depressing british rock, guessing jeopardy/who’s going to be a millionaire answers before anyone else can, never picking up phone calls, being a horse girl, having a masochistically loud alarm, being a political centrist, being a coffee purist

vinculus: drink vouchers marketing people hand out on the street, public transport, tinder, watching a game at the pub, rentable public scooters, selling fake fortunes/conducting seances online for believing middle-aged clientele, mobile gambling apps, action movies, spending inordinate amounts of money on his tattoos

norrell: instacart grocery delivery, obsessively stalking subreddits, ebay, sending whatsapp threads of fake infographics, eating a whole foods diet with no seasoning, directing people to his PA (lascelles), obscure netflix documentaries he quotes for two weeks after watching, keeping up with the british royal family, vitamins, remote work policies, twitter conspiracy theorists

strange: starting a podcast, apple pay, getting really into running, getting really into bitcoin, being a ‘wife guy’, using his veteran’s discount for overconsumption, truth or dare and he only ever picks dare, backpacking in xyz european country, picking up his work phone during date night, making ‘am i the asshole’ reddit posts which norrell secretly and unknowingly follows, eating ‘superfoods’, ensemble cast movies

gentleman: tiktok trends, shitty reality television, amazon prime next day delivery, owning a motorcycle, going on resort vacations 6x/year, brand name clothing with ostentatious logos, biweekly hair appointments, sliding into DMs, caffeinated energy drinks you can overdose on, orange theory classes, having a miniature designer dog, acting ‘woke’, getting scammed by phishing, dentist appointments

stephen: interior design, considering veganism, high thread count bedsheets, having a cat, going to therapy and actually improving, high quality european butter, 10 step self-care routine, homemade laminated pastries, sustainability, notion

emma pole: advanced embroidery kits, spiked morning drinks, doc martens, girls’ night, having a private instagram, clubbing, cat instagram reels, 9-5 work hours, racket sports, going with bell to expensive dessert cafes, classical music

arabella: pinterest boarding, girls’ night, knowing wine pairings, being really into running (influenced by strange, she keeps going after he quits), jellycats, diverse milk options at coffee shops, watching ootds, bon appetite recipes, meal prepping, having a well-loved dog whose lifestyle needs she researches with academic detail, expensive dessert cafes, radio pop playlist

drawlight: excessive instagram posting, watching tiktok fashion critiques, weekend brunch, ‘i know a guy’, bespoke clothing, 34 hour screentime, influencer events, house parties, half off convenience store wine, being employee of the month, forgetting his wallet at group dinners/not paying back venmo requests, keeping up with celebrity drama

lascelles: group projects he can monopolize, stock market trading, expensive branded clothes without logos, being a coffee purist, driving a ridiculously loud sports car, not caring about politics, getting valet service, searching his own name up on google, winning employee of the month over drawlight, scrolling his linkedin feed

#jsmn #js&mn #segundus #childermass #johnathan strange #gilbert norrell #the gentleman #stephen black #emma pole #arabella strange #henry lascelles #drawlight #plz add more in comments im so curious what ppl think

33 notes · View notes

dedeinthewild · 5 months ago

Note

In honor of the Indy car reveal at Prema I’d like to request Callum or Robert, the reader is related to someone at the team and they were dating either Callum or Rob, broke up after the driver left the team and now the returning driver really wants his girlfriend back ❤️

robert shwartzman x reader, comebacks

"Oh, I think I know exactly who you are"

summary: dreams may take you far, but some things are meant to find their way back.

When she had chosen to follow her godmother for a short trial period at Prema, she never would have expected to experience everything that big red family had in store for her—almost as if they had been waiting just for her. The woman who used to pick her up from school every afternoon and take her for a slice of pizza at the village bakery had introduced her to that whirlwind of drivers, mechanics, and engineers, stealing a piece of her heart that she would always leave behind the wheel of a single-seater.

In the end, when those months of travel, coffee breaks on the leather couches of the headquarters, and little peeks at the projects for the upcoming seasons came to an end, she had chosen to return to her studies—pausing the noisiest sport in the world, as if pressing pause on a song she wasn’t quite ready to forget. But something still clung to her, tied to her little finger—or, well, stuck to her side.

Robert was a special person, with a smile always plastered on his face and the nostalgic stories of someone who had spent his childhood chasing his dream, almost like one of the old men in Grisignano who had seen it all. The way he exaggerated his Russian accent when people asked him to or when he wanted to tease her, and how he was always the first to volunteer for Angelina’s silly video ideas, bonding just a little more deeply than others with those around him. And Robert—or Bob, as she called him—had been special even for that girl who had managed to take home a piece of the sweet heart of a driver who, if he wasn’t looking at four wheels, saw only the unconditional love he had for people.

-So, guess who’s back?- the girl smiled into the camera Sasha had helped her mount on the dashboard of the car she had borrowed to pick up Prema’s big return to IndyCar from the airport.

-It’s been a while now, so I don’t know why they want me to drive to Malpensa- she buckled her seatbelt, turned on the engine, and chatted as if someone were sitting beside her.

-But hey, Guillaume said I’m the best driver in a team that works in formulas, so that’s the highest form of flattery-

-“Where have you been?” Wait, I don’t know if these are for the comeback or for me- she mumbled awkwardly, listening to the pre-recorded questions Angelina had sent her, unsure if they were directed at her or the mystery guest she was on her way to pick up at the airport. -I’ll answer them anyway.-

The highway was clear at lunchtime, and since it wasn’t a holiday season, traffic was flowing smoothly. Between answering questions, listening to a podcast, and playing a few trending songs, she slowly made her way toward Milan.

-That’s where you should exit the highway to get to Monza- she said, grinning widely. -I’ll never get used to that.-

-“Do you have any clues on who could be back?” The recorded voice asked, making her scrunch her nose slightly as she rolled down the window and took the exit that would get her to the airport faster, avoiding the city’s trickier roads.

-At first, when René told me they had signed another old one with Cal, I really, really hoped it was Ralf, ‘cause I had seen him like two weeks prior, and he was talking with some guys from the team, but it was highly improbable.- She sighed, thinking about all the theories that had popped into her mind, the ones she had spent ages reflecting on, trying to fit together her gut feelings with the contracts of the driver market.

-The only one I think isn’t coming back is Bob,- she said, her gaze shifting to the airport steward handing her a ticket to enter the loading and unloading area where she would meet the mystery driver. -Or he would have told me.- She turned back to the camera with a playful expression.

It was surprisingly warm for late September, and Milan carried the lingering traces of being wrapped in smog, with a blinding sun overhead and no clouds in sight—except for the planes soaring through the sky, vanishing toward destinations she could only guess.

Bob—the same Bob who would have kissed that smile, cupping her cheeks with his thumbs and looking at her with the same gaze that had never changed since the first time they met.

-So, I think I have fifteen minutes until they kick me out,- she said, glancing around while letting the car roll forward on its own, one hand gripping the wheel and the other fiddling with the automatic gear shift, humming absentmindedly.

-I think that’s him,- she said, grabbing the small camera and focusing on a guy standing behind a gray suitcase, scanning his surroundings just as much as she was. He wore sunglasses, a baseball cap, and a bandana that covered most of his face.

-He could be anyone.-

She pulled up by the sidewalk, apologizing to a taxi driver who was making space for her, then rolled down the window, leaning out to speak to the mysterious arrival.

-I’m supposed to kidnap you and take you to Prema’s, so hop in,- she grinned teasingly, the camera capturing the inside of the car as he stepped closer and slid into the passenger seat after tossing his suitcase in the trunk.

It felt like one of those American videos where people recorded themselves driving for Uber, or those influencers who posted clips of themselves eating fast food and talking about the latest music releases.

-Before you sit down, take that red box on the backseat,- she instructed kindly, shifting into gear and pulling out of the parking area, wondering what the airport staff had thought about the way the guy was dressed.

-Alright, mystery driver, let’s do this,- the driver responded, placing the large box on his lap, his voice altered by a modulator that distorted both his tone and cadence.

-Buckle up, mystery passenger, I don’t go slow,- she laughed, leaving the airport and merging onto the main road, pulling her hair up with a clip to fight the heat.

The driver chuckled, settling into his seat, making her realize he was taller than she had expected—immediately ruling out both the New Zealander and the Chinese driver she had guessed.

-So, welcome to “Guess Who’s Back?” with ____ and- she gestured toward the guy sitting beside her, trying to trick him into saying his name. But he didn’t fall for it.

-I tried,- she shrugged, laughing.

-Who wrote these?- the driver asked, flipping through the cards inside the box as she drove down the highway, humming along to a song and glancing at the road ahead.

-Are they weird?-

-Weird is an understatement, driver,- he replied, fiddling with the cards, revealing a black ring on his middle finger and arms that—if she had only looked a second longer—she surely would have recognized.

She turned off the radio as they sped toward Grisignano, where a welcome buffet for the driver awaited, along with Angelina’s supervision of the video they had filmed. The sun made them smile, the sound of the engine humming in the background. And as they answered media-related questions, they realized how well they knew each other—how they understood each other’s moves before they were even made.

-What’s your go-to comfort food?- the driver asked, adjusting his bandana to keep his identity hidden.

-Easy. A huge dish of lasagna. Like, the kind so rich it hums when you lift your fork,- she answered, tilting her head back against the seat and looking at him as they waited for the traffic light to turn green.

-Only God knows how much I missed that old lady’s lasagna in Modena. I think it’s the best in the whole world,- the driver turned to face her, smiling despite most of his face being covered.

-You love them too?-

-Huge blue dish, a ton of sauce, and a few pieces of bread for the scarpetta.-

Huge brown eyes, a ton of charisma and warmth, and a few unspoken thoughts that echoed in the room where he had told her he was leaving Prema.

-What’s a completely useless skill you’re weirdly proud of?- she asked this time, accelerating on the asphalt and overtaking a car that seemed completely unaware of having others behind it, fixed on the speed limit.

-That was good,- the driver said, thinking about his answer. -Cooking a perfectly good egg, in every way you could think of.-

At first, she didn’t connect the dots. Focused on the car responding to her touch, taking her exactly where she wanted to go, as if it knew that sitting in the passenger seat was a person who had once meant so much to her that the years apart felt like just a few days. And maybe it was because of the way he laughed at her answers, getting tangled in explanations and anecdotes with the same storyline she remembered—ones even the most dedicated fans would recognize instantly. Or maybe it was because her heart did a little jump every time he shuffled the cards, just like on those nights when she had taught him every traditional Italian game, just waiting for Angelo to challenge him so he could show off what he had learned.

-How do I love my eggs?- she asked, looking at him as if that simple question could expose him, and she could finally surrender to the fact that the person in front of her was the guy she had been waiting for, for four years.

-You aren’t going to trick me,- he replied.

She scoffed, amused, starting to hum the melody of an ABBA song, which he attempted to whistle along to, creating an atmosphere in the car that felt like an old friendship. An atmosphere that reminded her of Bob, that blond Russian who went around joking and making every room his own, always showing what a wonderful person he was and how dedicated he remained without ever losing his roots or the values that made him who he was. And it reminded her of herself, too—of the memories of her Prema days, which she had locked away in a drawer, only for the team, as a gift, to pull them out and serve them to her in the form of a car and a silly, already-seen format that would bring back a piece of who she was.

-Do you have any idea who I am?- he asked as they pulled up in front of the Prema headquarters, after a whirlwind of questions, singing, and dancing for the camera.

-Oh, I think I know exactly who you are,- she whispered, turning off the engine.

They got out and walked in silence toward the room set up for the social media announcement—not an awkward or unpleasant silence, just a quiet one—until the warm embrace of the team appeared beyond the red door they had just stepped through.

-Package delivered,- the girl said with a smile, crossing her hands and playing with her thumbs to hide the slight tremor in her fingers.

Everyone was waiting—mechanics, engineers—all ready to welcome back one of the drivers they had watched grow and, in a way, had helped raise, through fun dinners and dance lessons. And under everyone's eyes, with cameras pointed at him but without letting them make the moment feel staged, the driver took off his cap, then his bandana, and finally his sunglasses.

Revealing big brown eyes, that unmistakable smile, and a few stray hairs she would have definitely plucked off his face years ago, sitting on his lap, armed with a razor.

-I'm back,- he said, as if relieved to finally let go of the secrecy. Mystery driver, mystery guy. But deep down, they had always known that sitting in the other seat was a part of themselves they had only put aside long enough to figure out what life had in store for them.

And in the group of people looking at Robert, among hugs and pats on the back, Angelina was only watching the girl, as if she had given her a gift. She looked emotional, her hands fidgeting and her eyes glossy with emotion, fixed completely on him.

"I need to know if this dream is really mine, and no matter what happens, I'll be back for you," he had told her, just before the team posted a farewell video they had filmed a few days earlier. And that was when she realized that, for a while, there would be no more tomato-stained napkins to wash or beach songs playing at eight in the morning on Sundays when he returned from a race and started dancing. Those words had echoed in her mind for all those years because she knew that Bob had always cared about her dreams, too, giving them a value that few could even begin to understand. And in the end, he had truly come back.

They had learned to know each other again—or rather, to remember what had always made them them, returning to the roots of their bond. Robert had taken back his dream, knowing it was his and his alone, and then he had taken back his car with that red livery. And there was only one more thing he wanted to take back.

Every moment with her. The ones they had lived, the ones they had missed, the ones he had promised her. Without losing that playful light in his eyes or the innate sweetness that defined them.

-Now that the dream is there, let's move on to the bigger one,- he said, head resting against the seat of the car, months later in America, at the presentation of his IndyCar.

-I don’t need to search for something anymore, _____. Because the only thing missing now—the one thing I know is a part of me—- he didn’t say mine, because he knew she belonged to no one but herself - is you. And I swear, I’ll spend every second I can proving that you belong next to every one of my dreams.

And she smiled. And then she laughed. Covering her face with her hands, filling the car with a happiness that washed away all the tension.

-You’re lucky I still remember how to put up with you,- she told him, making those years feel like just a minute. A minute they would make up for in a second. With a simple question. With a simple goal. To dream together.

I loooooved this! Well, it has been cooking for a while as I didn't think the video format was appropriate for the ask, but then I decided it was readable lol...Thank you to whoever requested it, and I hoped I did your idea justice <3

#robert shwartzman #robert shwartzman x reader #f2 #f1 #motorsports #prema racing #formula racing #f3 #writing #indycar #callum ilott #prema videos #zhou guanyu #ralf aron #marcus armstrong

17 notes · View notes