#t.w.: drinks ( mentioned )
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aleahsmultimuseblog · 6 months ago
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‘Kimi’ quickly smiles as she looks at the customer in the front of the line at the place that she works at, and owns. The Java Lava Coffee House. “Hello! Are you ready to order something? Welcome to The Java Lava Coffee House! Can I take your order?” ‘Kimi’ asks the current customer in the line. @forgottenfriendshipstarters
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kindbows · 19 days ago
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Blossom hadn’t found the drink that she wanted to pay for, so she sighed, and she started to walk towards the hang out area at the apartments where all of the people live in. She looks over to someone who is right nearby to her. “I guess that they are all out of those brand new Fall drinks. They were pretty delicious.” Blossom said, sighing a second time as she continued to look at that other person who was nearby her. @forgottenfriendshipstarters
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scandalousashleyb · 1 year ago
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“I hate to do this to you, but would you mind pretending that we’re dating for like ten minutes? My ex-boyfriend is standing right nearby me, and I honestly don’t feel like dealing with him today... I’ll buy you some food, or a drink, or something. Can you please hold my hand, or something? He’s probably going to try to ask me if I want to get back together with him.” Ashley B. said to the person who is next to her. @forgottenfriendshipstarters
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spookynessfm · 1 year ago
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Chloé Bourgeois looked at the next customer in the line inside the Java Lava Coffee House. She had started to feel more comfortable around here, since Hawk Moth had never shown up here. At least not yet. Chloé grinned at the person. “Hi! My name is Chloé Bourgeois. Thanks for coming here. I hope that you’ve been having a good day or evening so far. It’s a pleasure to meet you. How can I help you?” Chloé asked the person. “I can recommend something for you to order, if you’re not sure what to order.” Chloé said to the person. @forgottenfriendshipstarters​
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abbysmultimuseblog · 2 years ago
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“Hello, and welcome to the Java Lava Coffee House, owned by Kimiko ‘Kimi’ Watanabe-Finster. My name’s Mary Anne Spier. Can I take your order, please?” Mary Anne Spier asked the person who is standing in front of her. She is currently working a shift at the Java Lava Coffee House as a barista. @forgottenfriendshipstarters
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racingstarsxo · 1 year ago
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@scandalousashleyb​
“Sure! Uh, my name is Timmy Turner. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend. What is your name? And what is your ex-boyfriend’s name? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Timmy replied to her.
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trixiedangxo · 2 years ago
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“I see that they’re trying to make this Winter festival a bit more romantic than the other one that they did last year, but I don’t know who I will be kissing at this mistletoe this holiday season. I’ve got a few plans for this Crystal Ball Dance, but I don’t know who you will be taking to the dance. Do you have any ideas? I know that there are a lot of people here, so you don’t have to choose anyone right now, if you haven’t found a crush here yet. Also, if anyone wants any food, or drinks, I can give you some, if you’d like. My name is Trixie Tang. And I was originally from Dimmsdale before I randomly arrived to Canterlot Island almost four years ago. What’s your name? And what do you think you’ll do for this Winter festival?” Trixie asked to the other person nearby her, while smiling at them. @forgottenfriendshipstarters​
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tamarasmultimuseblog · 2 months ago
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"Can I please order an iced tea? Thank you. And my name is Tootie. What is your name? It's a nice pleasure to meet you, and I hope that you will have a good day today too!" Tootie gives the money for the payment to the barista.
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“Can I help you with something?” Britney asked the next customer in the line at The Java Lava Coffee House, in which she is currently working there as a barista. “I can recommend something for you to order, or you can just tell me what you would like to order here. And I hope that you will have a good day today!” Britney said to the next customer.
@forgottenfriendshipstarters
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formulawolff · 4 months ago
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"just one dance" - t.w.
pairing: horner's daughter!reader x toto wolff
word count: 1.9k
warnings: toto lusting after a woman thirty years younger than him (what's new on this blog lmfao), sexual references, maybe some cursing (idrk), mentions of drug use, alcohol use, flirting, banter, yadayadayada
a/n: i played "here" by alessia cara like 20x on repeat while writing this fic. so we could say that this fic is veryyyyy loosely inspired by that song. also! this was a request by an anon! i hope y'all enjoy! <3
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"come on," the words as slurred as he rolls his eyes, "come dance with us!"
bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "max, for the last time, i am not joining the horny middle school grind circle you guys have going on over there."
"it's not a grind circle," he puts his hands on his hips, "i would say it's more like a mosh pit."
which, given the occasion, was not quite appropriate either.
at the moment, you were perched at one of the many elegant banquet tables, the rigid surfaced draped with a thick, cream-colored tablecloth. adorning the table were numerous vases, filled to the brim with floral arrangements, their fragrance oh so sickeningly sweet.
the plates, utensils, and other various dining ware were now cleared, only leaving numerous wine glasses, their crystalline stems glimmering in the dim light, swathed by the golden hue of the chandeliers as they sparkle above.
this was the annual fia prize gala, one of the most coveted events of the season. it was the showcasing and peacocking of sheer and utter wealth, as the drivers got to pull up to in their luxury vehicles, their keys handed off to the valets. every individual was dressed head to toe in designer clothing from nearly every brand possible, from christian dior to saint laurent.
you lost track of the amount of rolex watches, cartier jewelry, and hermès bags you noticed throughout the course of the evening.
the main event wrapped up hours ago, leaving the rest of the night for the drivers, crew members, mechanics, engineers, executives, and team principals to mingle and dance. and well, consume copious amounts of alcohol.
and well, perhaps do a few lines in the restroom. or light a joint outside. maybe even pop a few pills.
with the exuberant amounts of cash involved with events like this, there were surely some illicit affairs. ones that the fia ignored, simply turning their heads.
if they didn't see it, it didn't happen.
after all, you were in monaco. it was like las vegas in a way.
what happened in monaco, stayed in monaco.
and here max verstappen was, three-time world champion, standing before you, so drunk he could barely walk, begging for you to come join him on the dance floor.
too bad your phone was almost dead.
this would have been a prime opportunity to record what was unfolding before you. it would have fed the max girlies all over instagram and tik tok for months.
glancing over max's shoulder, you pick out lando, oscar, charles, and carlos. they were apart of the large formation, jumping up and down, barreling into one another. alexandra, rebecca, and lily linger around the group, their gowns swishing as they laugh, their cheeks dusted with a bubblegum pink glow.
a drunken mosh pit with a bunch of sweaty men? no thank you.
but gossiping with the girls? that was more your speed.
"my dad would have a stroke if he caught me with you guys," you simply shrug, sipping on your wine, "and what if something happened to my dress? we have to return this, you know."
"ugh," the dutch driver groans, "you're no fun."
"hallo, max," a new voice cuts in, thick with an accent you can't quite place your finger on, "congratulations on your accomplishment this year!"
shifting in your chair is none other than torger christian wolff, better known as toto wolff, team prinicipal of mercedes.
your heart skips a beat as your eyes drink in the sight of him, the way his crisp tuxedo fit him effortlessly. his dark brunette hair was messy, more than likely from the events of the evening. his bowtie was untied, hanging loosely around his neck. the first few buttons of the snowy white dress shirt were undone, exposing his skin.
fuck, was he a gorgeous man.
with sharp cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and wide, beautiful coffee brown eyes, he knew that he was attractive, his aura brimmed with nothing but sexiness and dominance.
his hands land on the chair beside you, pulling it out as max rambles, the words drowning out in your ears.
you were more focused on his stature as he sits to your right, his thighs spread in the chair, a hand running through his hair.
"is there a reason why i haven't seen you on the dance floor?"
due to the excessive volume of the music, his mouth hovers by your ear. a shiver runs down your spine as his eyes lock with yours, lips forming a radiant smile, flashing his perfect pearlescent teeth.
"cat got your tongue? or are you just as intoxicated as maxie boy over there?"
"neither," you counter, straightening in your chair, "just not really interested, that's all."
"did daddy not give his precious diamond any dance lessons growing up?"
your father was none other than christian horner, team principal of red bull racing, sworn enemy of toto wolff.
quickly, your eyes scan your surroundings, in an attempt to pick out your father among the throng of people. to your dismay, you cannot find him.
which, in this case, could be a good thing.
if he saw toto speaking to you? oh fuck. it would be game over. you'd probably be grounded at your big age of twenty-four years old. could parents even do that when you were an adult?
you didn't really want to find out.
yet, you couldn't turn down a few moments with the team principal.
after all, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
why not seize it?
for most of your life, you obeyed every single one of your father's wishes. you maintained your distance from the red bull drivers, careful not to get too close. you stayed out of the spotlight, ensuring that no negative publicity ever came his way. as much as you yearned to get to know members of the mercedes team or crew, you shied away, maintaining the promise that you would never befriend a rival.
so, for this one night, you could be a little selfish.
just this once.
even if it involved your father's biggest foe. the bane of his existence. the man he spoked about so bitterly for years on end.
"i was offered dance lessons, actually," your voice is melodic, like an angel's from the heavens above, "i turned them down. opted for horseback riding instead."
"so you know how to ride?" the team principal runs a tongue along his lower lip, his brow slightly raised, "well, i have an offer for you. one dance with me, and then later you can show me how well you can ride."
"and what am i going to be riding?" you inquire, folding your arms across your chest.
the corners of his lips curl into a devious smirk, an emotion glinting within the mocha depths as he leans in, "my cock."
heat flourishes into your cheeks, seeping all throughout your body. as your mind scrambles, struggling to formulate some sort of witty response, the team principal nods, "not expecting that, were you? i like seeing you like this, all flustered. it's cute."
"y-you're ridiculous," you manage to sputter out, hands instinctively shielding your face.
"not as ridiculous as any of those fools," his head motions towards the group of rambunctious drivers, "tell me, why aren't you with any of them? i'm sure maxie boy would love to take you on a date. lando too."
"just not interested," you shrug, regaining your confidence a tad, "don't get me wrong, they've asked. but i've always just turned them down."
toto cocks his head, his voice laced with a tease, "why? scared daddy is going to ground you for dating a driver?"
"i just rather wouldn't be involved with anyone of them romantically," you wave a hand, "it'd be too awkward if things didn't end up working out. could you imagine having to spend so much time at the paddock with someone who your dad could fire at any given moment? it'd be like walking on eggshells. i'd feel bad for any poor soul who wants to court me. they'd constantly be seeking my father's approval, on and off the track."
"well it's a good thing that i already know where i stand," toto shoots you a wink, your heart thudding against your rib-cage as he offers you his hand, "come on, just one dance. that's all i ask of you, gorgeous girl. one dance and then you can come right back over here, spending the rest of your night sulking in the corner."
"i haven't been sulking," you snort, accepting the gesture, "i've just been bored."
"how about you accept the other half of my offer then?" his accent is prominent, lingering in every word, "i've just been flirting, you don't really have to ride me. unless you know, you want to-"
"are you forgetting that we're in a very public space?" you hiss, elbow interlocked with his as you make your way to the dance floor, "people can probably hear you."
"good thing we're all drunk," he responds, the casual delivery sending you spiraling, "here, place your hand on my shoulder. i'll take this hand. the other will go on your waist."
as you follow his lead, you can't help but feel the pairs of eyes fixate on the two of you, murmurs rising above the music. yet, toto's focus is honed in on you, and only you.
"don't worry about them," he takes a step forward, your feet following in suit, "they're probably just envious that i'm with the most coveted woman in all of formula one."
"you don't mean that."
"oh schatzi," a chuckle rumbles in his chest, flowing from his lips, "do you not hear the things they say about you among the paddocks?"
"enlighten me then," your heart swells as his thumb tenderly kneads into your waist, fingers interlocking with yours.
his mouth is merely centimeters away from yours now, dimples apparent as his eyes glitter like the chandeliers above, "there's whispers that you are the most breathtaking woman in the world. the drivers talk about you all of the time, debating who would look the best by your side. you're a hot commodity. a prize to be won."
"people say those things about me?"
"would i ever lie to you?" toto arched a brow, "i have no reason to."
"that is true."
there's a twinge of resentment that bubbles up in your stomach as the song ends. oh how this moment ended too soon.
way too soon.
"still no sign of your father," toto's voice is hushed, barely audible over the music, "you think i could have you for just one more song? after that, i promise i'll leave you be."
"i think so," you feel a smile form the moment he pulls you in closer, the space between you crumbling away, "careful, mr. wolff. you need to maintain some sort of distance between us, remember?"
he shakes his head, fingers squeezing your waist, "right now, i could give any fucks what your father would think. he's lucky that i have some sort of self-control."
"and why is that?" you press, blood roaring in your ears as his head lowers, situated by your ear.
"because it is taking everything within me to keep myself from getting on my knees right this instant and lifting up that gown of yours."
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aleahsmultimuseblog · 11 months ago
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Kimi quickly smiles as she looks at the customer in the front of the line at the place that she works at, and owns. The Java Lava Coffee House. “Hello! Are you ready to order something? Welcome to the Java Lava Coffee House! Can I take your order?” Kimi asks the customer. @forgottenfriendshipstarters​
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ilys00ga · 11 months ago
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life after his enlistment.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
synopsis: how life/the relationship was like after he enlisted.
genre: fluff, established relationship, yoongi enlisted, they are trying their best, idk if I should call it angst or hurt/comfort, but there's some kind of ✨️melancholy✨️ in this (predictable much), I effing miss him sm more now :(.
warnings: t.w: if u are just like me, prepare to be missing yoongi sickeningly after this. gosh, it feels like a hole in a chest rn. idk what to do w myself. oh btw some ideas mentioned here are purely my own opinions, so it doesn't have to be "facts" or "all true." if u have different opinions or if u disagree with any it u can reach out to me about them, I would like that, but that's that, enjoy!!!!!!!!!
A/N: this was a request made by @kimvante2013 I hope it meets ur expectations! this was so fun to write, I liked this a lot. feel free to send more reqs or anything u want :)
PS. English is not my first language, so you know the drill.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
the problem wasn't that you couldn't see him, no.
since his duty was different from that of an ordinary individual, you both were able to spend the nights in each other's arms.
when he comes back home after duty, sometimes he's met with an empty house where he'd wash up and start preparing something for you to enjoy munching on once you get back home at a later hour of the day. other times, he comes to a busy, warm house. you blasting your favorite drama on the TV while doing the laundry in the middle of the living room, or just chilling and waiting to welcome him with mellow hugs and kisses.
and when he's on duty, he can't always contact you, but he whispered kisses laced with promises into your lips before leaving on his first day, and he would never dare to break them. not that he wants to anyway.
sometimes you'd wake up to post-it notes sticked on random surfaces and items around the house, or good morning messages of love and kisses. sometimes he calls during lunch breaks to check up on you, reminding you to drink water and eat well because that's yoongi's most precious habit of showing that he always just cares.
"don't forget to layer your outfit today, I just saw that it's gonna be awfully cold."
"did you like the bouquet I sent? want more? cook me ___ tonight xx"
"hi, don't forget to drink a cup of water right this instance or you'll shrivel up and die."
"it snowed on my way here this morning, let's go out this weekend and have some fun :]"
when days are too hard to handle, weighing one of you—maybe even both of you at the same time, cause life is a bitch like that—down and burying you under the ground, you'd send long voice messages to the other. never expecting an immediate reply. just simply pressing record and spilling all the bottled negative energy that clogged your brains and chests.
so, the problem wasn't really that you couldn't see or talk to him..
the problem was that neither of you were used to any of that.
you weren't used to being away from each other for long hours throughout the day (even though he often went on tours and job events aboard), or not being able to talk and/or see him whenever you wanted to—atleast whenever your shift agreed to let you. you're stuck on this routine for months. you were so not used to that.
over the years, you and yoongi grew to become a pen and a paper: two different items that are meant to only function and be paired together. one can't be capable without the other.
yet you try to avail yourselves of the situation and take it all easy. slowly, like waking up and leaving a warm, comfy bed at 5 in the morning to gain some purpose somewhere out there.
so, while staying away from one another for several hours a day comes with heavy challenges and even melancholy at times, that doesn't mean it can't be fruitful for your relationship.
since for it to grow healthier, a couple, intentionally or not, sometimes needs to take some "time off" to preserve the connection and intimacy between them.
you always remind yoongi of how much you had missed him during the day, which is something that never failed to put a smile on his face and trigger a stream of butterflies in his stomach.
love and yearning are two inseparable powerful emotions that one can't defeat, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. that's the beauty of the challenge your relationship was subject to at this new stage.
"I am still me, you are still you. everything's gonna be alright." yoongi would say as he hugs your face into his chest.
he always reminds you that this new chapter the two of you have entered together, hand in hand and with shaking hearts, is one that he'd been dreading but looking forward to for a very long time.
a chapter that made him understand how much he needs your existence in his life. to be himself and to be the somebody you need and deserve.
and he makes sure to translate that into your skin as he traces it with his lips and fingertips when you finally fall into each other's embrace.
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fallenthroughfm · 1 year ago
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"I don't drink, but I'll take a soda with you. Sure. My name is Betty Quinlan. It's nice to meet you. That would be great. What is your name?" Betty asked.
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Hikari was still very confused on what just happened. She woke up to arrive at this very new location, and she didn’t even know the reason of why she is now living here. Needing a bit of a distraction from feeling confused and unsure of what is going on around here, she looked at someone close by to her. “Excuse me? Would you possibly be interested in getting a drink with me? I’ll pay for your drink too.” Hikari said to the other person. @forgottenfriendshipstarters​
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jimmy-johns-was-taken · 2 months ago
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Don’t Fuck with Dad
A platonic Tim! X Reader
T.W. : Mentions of blood and violence, reader is really tired and just needs a break, slender is kinda a bitch tbh, Jeff is a bitch, fighting, kinda angsty? Not proof read :/
Summary : Mission after mission, you’re exhausted. You haven’t had a break in weeks and you’re constantly on the go. When you finally do get a moment of peace, someone ruins it.
You open your eyes, the rising sun visible through your windows. Half asleep, you throw your arm over and slam it down on your phone, the alarm too loud. What time was it? Fuck, what day was it? You let out a loud groan, taking a few deep breaths.
You hadn’t had a break in weeks. The Slenderman giving you missions every night, not to mention the shit load of paperwork that came with it. Most of the missions had been a bitch too, difficult missions that typically took multiple proxies. Normally, you, Kate, and Cody would work as a team, but occasionally it would be changed. Sometimes you were alone, sometimes with only one partner, sometimes two. The missions you had been given recently needed multiple people, and yet here you were, slaving away.
Throwing your legs off the bed, you hissed at the cold floor. Yawning, you began the morning ritual, grabbing a hoodie off the floor and you’re phone, you made your way downstairs for coffee. Glancing at the bright screen, it was Tuesday, July 16th. No mission today, just had to finish up some paperwork. Once you were done, you made a mental plan to take a hot shower, get in the comfiest clothes you could find, and watch a comfort movie. Downstairs, Tim and Brian stood by the island, acknowledging your presence.
“Mornin’ kiddo,” Brian spoke first, “you look rough, Whatcha’ doing up so early?” “I have a shit load of paperwork today,” you groaned, shuffling toward the coffee machine.
“Ohhhhh, day off huh?” Brian smiled. He knew that you had been slammed recently, silently questioning Slender on why he was giving you so much.
“Yeah, finally,” you yawned, sitting at the island with the two. They were here long before you, they knew what it was like to have something every single damn day. It was exhausting, and you were running on such little sleep. Bags heavy under your eyes, you took a sip of the drink and sighed.
“Hey, I’ll catch you later, k? I’ve got to head out, mission two towns over. Gotta’ set up some cameras or something,” Brian said, getting up and waving as he walked away. That left just you and Tim in the kitchen.
For a little while, silence. You and Tim had an understanding, being a proxy sucked and was tiring beyond belief. But Tim had his own opinions, you were just a kid. He knew the kind of missions you had recently been on, violent missions. He knew you had killed a lot recently, and the paper work with it was insane.
“Leave your paperwork in my office, I’ll get it done,” Tim spoke, leaving no room for debate.
You looked to him, confusion ever present, “It’s my work, I can do it ya’ know?”
“I’m well aware kiddo,” and with that, silence. You didn’t ask for this, any of this. The stalking, killing, everything. You didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess, you were at the wrong place in the wrong time. Tim didn’t know what it was, but he felt a connection to you. He was protective, he wanted the best for you, he wanted you to be happy. But most of all, he was proud of you.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you mumbled.”
“The back to back for weeks on end is hard. It’s the least I can do for ya’,” Tim took another sip of his coffee. You nodded, getting up and making your way to your room. Passing Eyeless Jack on the way back, you smiled and waved. You and the demon actually got along really well, you spent lots of the little free time you had in the lab, learning from him. Anything from anatomy to some chemicals, you learned a lot of Jack. He waved back at you, offering a visit and teaching session later if you weren’t busy. You gave him a maybe, explaining how busy you’ve been recently. He understood, and then continued on to wherever he was going.
You made it to your room, grabbing the large stacks of paper. You felt awful giving it to Tim, but he didn’t exactly leave much room for debate. You made your way to his and Brian’s office. Walking over to Tim’s desk, the large stacks of paper on his desk ever present. Jeez, you felt terrible giving him all this.
“Just set it down,” it was Brian, standing at the door. He made his way past you and grabbed a file off his desk, “trust me. That guy would do any amount of paper work for you.”
“But he already has so much, I don’t want to just add more on,” you looked to him, a sad look in your eyes. It made his heart melt, you really hated to do this.
“Set them down and get some rest, you need it. And Tim agrees, plus he would much rather you go have fun with EJ or Nina or someone, not sit and do paperwork,” you sat the paper down, looking away from him and to a framed photo t on Tim’s desk. It was you and him, the first mission you two had together.
“Let me tell you,” Brian started, slowly making his way toward the door, “Tim would kill a man for you. He cares about you like your his own kid, so just let him take all this,” and with that, Brian made his way out. You smiled, following him out the door. You wanted to get back to your room, take a nice hot shower, and maybe go hangout with EJ. Turning a hallway, you bumped into someone.
“Hey-! Fucking, watch it!” It was Jeff, of course. Nobody else would be this loud in the morning.
“Fucking move, prick,” you mumbled, shoving your way past him. It’s not that you and Jeff didn’t get along, you just wouldn’t hang out with him at all.
“Excuse me? Want to say that again?!” Jeff’s volume rose as he grabbed you shirt and threw you against the wall.
“You stupid bitch,” glaring at him, you gathered yourself and tried to walk away. It was way too early to deal with his shit.
“Oh hell no, you aren’t fucking walking away-“ Jeff was cut off, a firm hand placed on his shoulder. He whipped around, only to find Tim standing there.
“Fuck you think you’re doing?” Tim asked, voice low.
“This little bitch started it-“ Jeff didn’t get to finish before Tim punched him square in the nose. You stood back in awe, watching the two.
“Better go see Jack, wouldn’t want to get blood everywhere,” Tim shoved Jeff in the direction of the medical lab, giving him a solid middle finger. Jeff grunted and walked off, holding his nose.
“You good?” He turned to you.
“Uhh, yeah.”
“He ever bothers you again, just come find me, ok?”
“Uhh, right, yes sir,” you looked at him, not many words forming. What the hell were you supposed to say? Oh yeah, thanks for breaking Jeff’s nose for me dad.
“Go, shower. You stink,” Tim turned and walked off. You caught a glimpse of a small smirk on his face and you smiled back. “Whatever old man.”
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formulawolff · 5 months ago
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i. alkaline - t.w.
pairing: female driver! x toto wolff
word count: 2.7k
warnings: cursing, significant age-gap, power imbalances, slow burn, eventual smut, inappropriate work relationships, mentions of infidelity, drug/alcohol use, use of common fic tropes
synopsis: as the first american female driver for formula one, you are thrust into the competitive world of racing. when you are approached by a team principal willing to make a deal, you presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.
author's note: this is my first f1 related fic, so i may have made some errors in terminology. the title is based on the song alkaline by sleep token. i recommend listening while reading! please, please, please let me know if you like the fic! i plan on making this my first f1 series :')
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racing was never in the cards. 
well, racing a nearly 1,800 pound car was never in the cards. 
especially at speeds reaching two hundred miles an hour. 
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
yet, here you were, shaking james’ hand, beaming as the cameras flashed. there were a flurry of voices, all of them nearly trembling with excitement, relief, and well, hope. if you were able to accomplish eighth place today, what did that mean for the future of williams racing? 
would williams be a sizable contender for the 2025 constructors’ championship? would they be able to squash the disbelief? the doubts? hell, if you kept this up, there was a chance that you could get williams into the top ten of the 2024 championship. 
were you what they had been missing for so long? 
were you the key to their future success?
“great job,” james’ voice is nearly hoarse, more than likely from all of the celebration, “you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about you.” 
“probably nothing great,” you scoff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i’m sure that everyone is claiming i didn’t deserve it.” 
“quite the contrary,” a chuckle bubbles up from his throat, “they all adore you.” 
“was it because i gave the camera the finger?” 
“no,” there is a slight twinkle in his eyes, quite the contrary from what you were used to, “they love you because you’re you. there is no one in this sport who is quite like you.
there’s an authenticity that cannot be replaced. it’s obvious you have a true passion for racing. it shows on the track. good job, today.” 
heat flourished into your cheeks, tears welling up at james’ words. after years of being ridiculed by team principals, attacked by fans, and bashed by the media, praise was something to be cherished. it was always welcomed warmly, your heart swelling as james brought you in for a sweaty embrace. 
“thank you, james,” the words are slightly muffled as he squeezes you gently, “you know how much that means to me. thank you for believing in me.”
“of course,” james murmurs, rubbing your back ever so slightly, “great job, american girl. you deserve this. go do some interviews, flash that beautiful grin of yours, and then get some rest. you need it.”
“no partying?” you arch your brow, “i think i deserve a drink or two.”
“maybe a little bit,” another chuckle rings out, “i just don’t want to see any press about it in the morning. that’s the last thing we need after our victory today.”
“right, right,” you nod your head, saluting the principal, “aye, aye captain.”
“it’s principal,” james shoots you a wink before turning to several engineers, the group getting swept away into the chaos. 
no matter how well the team did, there was always chaos after a race. it was typical, routine even. there was always the pit crew cleaning up, shouting to one another as the fans trickled out of the stands. engineers milled about, tablets in hand, murmuring to one another, pointing out aspects of the car that needed improvement. there was always some piece of the car that could be adjusted, a slight tweak or advancement. it could make the car faster, or it could only lead to inevitable disaster. 
exhaling, you stroll out of the paddock, the dread of facing the press weighing down every step. 
you could turn around, and hide in the paddock. 
however, this was part of being a driver. simply a requirement of the job. press was an essential aspect of formula one. how else would the world know how you felt after that race? how else would information about driver contracts, car modifications, disqualifications be shared?
how else would the world have known about the first american female formula in formula one?  
you had to at least thank the press for that. 
even if it was shared before your official announcement that you were joining williams racing for the 2023 racing season. 
“there she is!” a voice calls out, light and airy. 
the corners of your lips tug into a smile as you see daniel ricciardo jogging towards you. before you know it, his arms are wrapping around your frame, holding you tight. he’s sweaty, per usual, but you accept the gesture, suppressing a giggle as he sways you back and forth. 
“i knew you could do it! i knew you could do it!”
“don’t puncture her lungs, please,” another voice chimes in, “i would like to keep her around, you know.”
daniel releases you promptly, placing a swift peck on your cheek, “no need to fret alex. i’m not that mighty.”
“i’m more worried about contracting any diseases from the land down under,” scrunching your nose, you wave your fingers at daniel, earning yet another laugh from the australian. 
“the only disease you’d contract are my insanely good looks.”
“here we go again,” alex rolls his eyes, “are we ready to face the press or what?”
“i think so,” daniel shrugs, “go ahead, alex. we’ll follow you.”
alex shoots you an inquiring glance, but begins to walk in the direction of the conference room. once he was a reasonable distance away, daniel clears his throat. 
“someone seemed a little jealous.”
“i wouldn’t say jealous,” you can’t help but defend alex, “he’s probably a little bitter.”
“fifteenth place is nowhere as good as eighth,” daniel points out, the notes in his tone solemn, “he’s been there a few years and seen subpar results. you came in last year and have pretty damn good ones. i’m sure he can’t help but feel a little bit of envy.” 
“maybe he just had a bad race.”
“you say that every–” daniel begins, but he’s swiftly cut off as you pull open the door to the conference room. 
all around, cameras flash, reporters chirp out questions, and phones are immediately pointed in your direction. sucking in a deep breath, you settle on the couch next to daniel, max verstappen across from you. he shoots you a thumbs up, complemented with a wide smile. alex was on your right, fiddling a loose thread. 
confusion consumes you momentarily once you realize that max was the only one from the podium to remain in the conference room. checo and carlos were not present. so why was he still here? 
daniel passes you the mic, placing it on your lap. a shit-eating grin plasters his face, and you grimace. of course he was going to make you speak first. hesitantly, you pick up the mic, clearing your throat. 
“hello, everyone. any questions?”
immediately a reporter butts in, “how does it feel to not only be one of the only women competing in formula one, but the first american woman to place in a race?”
your hand tingles as you hold up the mic, trembling slightly. public speaking was never your forte. fuck you, daniel. 
“w-well,” you curse yourself for stuttering, “i take a lot of pride in the way i compete, especially as such a trailblazer for women who love the sport. i’m aware that there is a lot of unrest and outcry concerning my gender and how i’m not ‘supposed’ to be competing with the men–”
“i think she’s a worthy opponent,” max’s voice interjects, “she competes at the same intensity as we do, if not more. she is going to be standing next to me on a podium in a matter of weeks. i’ve never met someone so driven to win or passionate about the sport. 
we pay no attention to her gender. it doesn’t affect us. we pay attention to her character. i do not want to speak for her, but i am sure she would appreciate it if you all refrained from the gender based questions. ask her about the race.”
as he finishes speaking, his eyes drift back to you, sparkling ever so slightly. his cheeks were tinged a pink hue from the passionate sentiment, and you couldn’t help but just sit there, frozen with disbelief. 
max verstappen, three time world champion, one of the best drivers to ever step foot on a formula one track, publicly praised you. in a room full of journalists, no less. 
sure, you were friendly with max. since there were only twenty drivers, most of you were close, on and off the grid. you had exchanged numerous conversations with max over the last year, but you were still a little intimidated by the dutch driver. 
of course, who wouldn’t be? he was a dominant force on the track, winning nineteen of the twenty-two races last season. 
so yeah, when he just did nothing but send you the uttermost praise in a room bustling with the press, you were going to a little starstruck.
“do you have any additional remarks to maxs’ comments?” a reporter snaps you out of your trance, “you appear to be a little off-put by what he just said.”
blinking, you bring the mic to your lips, “no, i actually appreciate what he said. maybe that means you guys will finally take me seriously.”
“are you under the impression that formula one does not take you seriously?”
as the reporter baits you to respond, a twinge of frustration brews in your stomach, churning it into a knot. sucking in a sharp breath, you focus your attention to the reporter. 
“no, that is not what i said. it is the simple fact that i have been working my ass off this last year to be a competitive racer. i’ve worked tirelessly with williams racing to place. i’ve been trying to earn points for my team because i believe in my team and i want us to succeed. yet nearly every day i wake up, someone on social media posts some bullshit or bashes me for competing. 
i’ve been making a name for myself, and look where it has gotten me. you all are more concerned about my gender than the race i just had. i think it’s a bit frivolous to be more invested in my gender than my racing. so yeah, when the three time world champion says something good about me, i would hope that you guys listen to it.”
there’s a few gasps from a few reporters, and you can’t help but notice all of the beady red lights on the cameras. of course that was all recorded. of course it was going to be blasted all over social media these next couple of days. 
so much for good press. 
setting down the mic, you lean over to daniel. the words are low enough so that only he can hear, “i’m done here.”
“i don’t blame you,” the aussie plucks the mic out of your hands, “get out of here. cool down. i’m sorry about that prick.”
“don’t worry about it,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot with sheer anger, “i’m leaving before i cuss them all out.”
“atta girl,” daniel winks, “i’d like to see that, though.”
“not now,” you bite your lip, “i need to bite my tongue.”
as you get up, max’s gaze is full of sympathy. alex’s mouths, i’m so sorry, disappointment painting his features. walking across the stage, daniel’s words drown in your ears. 
balling your fists together, the tingly sensation resides as you march towards your motorhome. tears blur your vision, strings of curses filling the air as you walk. after that little incident in the press room, james was not going to be happy. of course, after everything you accomplished today, it was diminished somehow. 
by an asshole reporter, at that. 
flinging open the door to the motorhome, you resist the urge to just scream. it would not help much, but god would it be cathartic. however, there were more important things to be addressed. you needed to decompress and settle down. 
as much as you wanted to celebrate with a few drinks, a shower, some comfy clothes, and your bed were more appealing. 
maybe a glass of wine in bed wouldn’t hurt. 
as you unzip your fire suit, a knock at the door disturbs the silence. 
shit. just as you were finally getting settled. 
groaning, you spin on your heel, making your way to the door. 
“daniel, i swear to fucking god. i don’t want to talk right now–”
however, it was not daniel standing at the entrance of your motorhome. 
before you was torger wolff, also known as toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. 
donning a white team button-up, the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his muscular build. inky black slacks were on his lower half, making him appear taller than he already was. fluffy brunette hair stood up on nearly all ends, messy from the stress and chaos of the race.
however, there was no denying he was handsome. with sharp, angular features, and wrinkles scoured in his face over the years, it gave him a powerful yet stoic aura. 
like his name suggested, he was like a wolf, poised and eager to pounce.
yet, you were more focused on his eyes. a brilliant, warm, mocha-hued gaze framed by thick, dark lashes. and they were peering right at you, taking in the sight of you in your half-zipped fire suit, a black long sleeve underneath. 
your eyes widen, a hand covering your mouth. sheer embarrassment courses through you, heat flooding your cheeks, trickling down your neck, “i – oh my god. um, oh my god, i am so fucking sorry.”
clearing his throat, he arches a brow, “did i come at a bad time?”
“no,” you shake your head, perhaps a little quickly, “no, no, no. please, come in. how rude of me.”
there is no readable expression across the austrian’s features, his lips pucking ever so slightly, “it won’t be long, i promise.”
swallowing a lump in your throat, you step back, inviting the principal in to the motorhome. you lead him to the kitchen, gesturing to a barstool, “you can sit here if you’d like.”
he glances at the stool, yet does not sit. your brows furrow as he remains standing. leaning against a counter, you fold your arms across your chest. 
“is there a reason you stopped by?”
“as you know,” toto begins, “lewis is leaving mercedes after the 2024 season. he will be joining ferrari in 2025. to put it simply, i am on the hunt for my second driver.”
your lips purse, “i’m not sure why you came to me. you would have better luck with carlos. he’s looking for a team. i made a verbal commitment to james. i’ll be staying with williams through 2026.”
“is that so?” toto inquires, taking a step towards you, “and why are you choosing to stay with a team that limits your potential?”
the question takes you aback, “i’m not sure you what mean.”
rolling his eyes, he tuts, “williams racing is nowhere as near as competitive of a team as ferrari, redbull, mclaren, or mercedes. for years they’ve been piddling around, finishing at the bottom of the championship. yes, their drivers are talented, but they are not given opportunities to thrive.”
his comment sends another wave of anger coursing through you, your fists balling at your sides, “you have no idea what you’re talking about–”
“actually, i do. i’ve been around a long time. i’ve seen a lot more than you ever have. james is a great team principal, but you are not going to compete if you stay at williams. eventually, you’ll be like alex. you’ll finish with mediocre results. you’ll lose faith in the team who you once cherished so deeply. you’ll be ridiculed even more by the world of formula one, even more so than you already are.”
gritting your teeth, you take a step forward, “i think it’s time for you to leave.”
“what?” toto cocks his head, “did i say something you didn’t want to hear, little dove? did i strike a chord?”
“i think you’re just projecting,” you maintain your composure as the principal scoffs, “that’s exactly what happened to lewis, and you’re afraid it’s going to happen to george.”
“you’re a smart girl,” it takes a moment for you to realize how close the two of you had suddenly gotten.
he was in very close proximity now, only a few inches apart, looking down at you with a wickedly smug grin, “and i know that you’re very aware that formula one is a business. i have to maintain the mercedes reputation and acquire a driver who will bring us home podiums.” 
“i think you’ll have that luck with carlos,” breaking away, your gaze settles on the door of the motorhome. 
fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. 
“but i want you to drive for mercedes. i want to make you a world champion.”
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please let me know if you would like to be tagged! thank you for reading! <3
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strawberrymclkshakcsfm · 11 months ago
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"Uh, yeah. Just this candy, and soda. No. I didn't have any difficulty trying to find something in here. What is the total cost?" Patrick asked the cashier.
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Open to: Everyone !!
Location: Orange Market.
Trixie looked at what the other person had placed on her counter at the Orange Market. “Alright. Is that all that you’d like to purchase? Or did you have some difficulty trying to find something in the store?” Trixie asked the customer in the Orange Market. Trixie looked at the customer too. @forgottenfriendshipstarters​
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caelesblues · 1 year ago
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11:58 p.m.
c.w./t.w. - modern au-ish, angst (?), mentions of drinking and wine
word count: 841
gn!reader, notes at the end.
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the night felt great, it really did. up here on the roof sitting down on a spread out gingham blanket, a bottle of wine and two glasses sat between you and your companion, abandoned in favor of staring up ahead. just a row of once unimpressive roofs, but now they seemed like they belonged at the louvre.
the gentle breeze was all that both of you could ask for in this balmy evening; it was the perfect accompaniment to the soft "what a wonderful world" playing on a radio somewhere (you both suspect it's from the house just two doors down to the right of your own).
it's nice, isn't it?", they ask you without so much as glancing your way. legs folded at the knees, forearms resting on them, chin propped up.
you cast them a sideways glance, seeing how the breeze would softly tousle their locks and the glow of the full moon reflecting in their eyes. you never thought much about them before, but now you can definitively say they belong to the louvre as well-though probably in a different section from suburban house roofs. you don't know when this newfound appreciation for them came from, but you safely surmise because it's probably the last time you'll get to see them in this kind of manner.
"yeah, really nice". you reply, turning your gaze back in front of you. you can just barely picture out a family cuddling up in their living room from the next street over. how wonderful, you think. then louis armstrong finally stopped signing, but came in judy garland with "somewhere over the rainbow". how tragic, you think.
"those two, back at it again with their vintage tunes", they quietly laugh beside you but it wasn't full of mirth. it sounded resigned, hollow. not inappropriate considering the circumstances.
"i bet they're in their living room dancing again."
"bit weird to slow dance to 'somewhere over the rainbow', don't you think?" it was your turn to quietly laugh.
"with everything's happening right now? i don't think so." you see them swivel their head to gaze at you this time around, noting a small smile playing on their lips, it felt genuine.
"aren't you an optimist now huh?", you chuckle at that, a heartfelt one. you turn to look at them as well, noting the lines, creases, and wrinkles making themselves known in their once youthful visage. you think you must look the same.
"considering where we are right now in our lives, i guess it isn't so bad after all." they release a quiet sigh, looking back down at the wine and glasses. they look back up at you with a raised brow, you shrug in return. even now you can't turn down a glass or two.
you grab the wine and open it, pouring the both of you a drink. but neither of you grab for it, instead letting it just sit there filled halfway. you both turn back to the scene in front of you, a sea of houses lined up side by side. looking at how some are spending their nights. it's kind of funny how everything is so normal; it's comforting. a beat or two passed some more before you hear them ask,
"what are you going to miss after all of this?" you ponder the question for a while, thinking about all the things and events that lead up to this. it was a fruitless task you conclude, so instead you answer them with
"is it a cop out to say everything?"
"i don't think it is." their answer made you feel validated, although you think anyone right now if asked the same question would just parrot your answer. but you just can't help yourself,
"how about you, what would you miss?"
"everything as well." just as they finished answering you, the opening tunes of audrey hepburn's "moon river" starts spilling from your neighbors' radio. how tragically perfect. and it seems your companion thinks so too.
"when do you think it'll start?". you shrug, looking at your watch. 11:58 p.m.
"i don't know. i guess it'll just arrive at any moment now." that seemed to be satisfactory answer for them, picking up theirs and your glass of wine. you took the glass from their hand, smiling at them.
"what do we do now?". they shrug at that, and you guess that's the only logical answer to that kind of question.
"just enjoy the last moments we have." and so you raise your glass up to them, looking expectantly. the both of you at least deserved one last toast to celebrate the final hurrah of everything.
"cheers, to the end of the world"
"to the end of this world." with that you clink you glasses as the last song of your lives comes to a close, immediately followed up by the first of many strong earthly tremors to come.
and the both of you just sat there drinking wine on your rooftop, watching the world crumble. what a way to go.
-kaeya alberich, nanami kento, geto suguru, zhongli, welt yang, rosaria, lisa, venti, beidou, heizou, jing yuan, dan heng, satan, lucifer, barbatos (from obey me), qingque, herta, fu xuan
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aahhhhhh! my very first post (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥) this particular work has been sitting in my phone's notes app since 2021, and i thought this is the perfect one to publish here for my debut. i've been debating for such a long time of whether i should open up a tumblr page for writing, and i finally had a courage to do so this year ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ).
ngl i don't properly know if this is actually angst or not, all i know is that in the end the apocalypse happens lmao. i wanted to make it seem like this was just another breakup story, but it's actually just two people chilling and waiting for the world to end, i hope i was able to capture it properly (i probably didn't T_T ). the characters i chose are the ones i felt like would be most likely to be in a situation like this, but again i'm also not quite so sure (side note, who else do you guys think would be in a situation like this?).
i hope this was somewhat decent and enjoyable (ㅅ´ ˘ `) likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated! please don't be shy to come talk to me as well ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
caelesblues @ 2023 | do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or repost on any other platform
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