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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

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Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year

Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT

The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.

I love you all!

“Kid, are those shorts?”

You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden.

You shot him a sheepish grin.

“Quite possibly.”

Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?”

“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.”

A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost.

Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.”

A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you.

“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?”

The question made the men groan.

You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.”

Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?”

Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought.

“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?”

A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re more decorated than I am.”

A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention.

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?”

A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car.

“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.

You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.”

The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season.

Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men.

You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving.

Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated.

Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring.

When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you.

The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you.

“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n.

“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.”

The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.

“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.”

You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022.

“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…”

Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka.

The Champion inhaled before he spoke again.

“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap.

“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.

“Thank you.”

Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go.

You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage.

“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!”

Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures.

One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak.

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.”

Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great.

“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.”

Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up.

“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.”

“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.”

You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder.

“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.”

Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch.

“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.”

Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes.

“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.”

At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name.

“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.”

More laughter from the crowd.

“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.”

You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares.

“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.”

Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max.

“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.

“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved.

“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life.

“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max.

“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat.

“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down.

However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.

Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you mon bebe.”

A groan left his lips.

“You know what it does when you speak my language.”

A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.”

Arthur only rolled his eyes.

“My rookie of the year.”

Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops.

“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd.

You looked up at the Dutchman.

“I’m going to win the championship this year.”

“No you aren’t.”

“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.”

“Sure Charles, sure.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others

y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears

arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband

y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband

y/nxarthur HUSBAND?

maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??

charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????

y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭

box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?

y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good

y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...

lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)

maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people

y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆

sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹

formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔

author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is

y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!

author anything for you kid...anything

charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????

formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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No, Uber's (still) not profitable

Going to Defcon this weekend? I'm giving a keynote, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse," on Saturday at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826

Bezzle (n): 1. "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it" (JK Gabraith) 2. Uber.

Uber was, is, and always will be a bezzle. There are just intrinsic limitations to the profits available to operating a taxi fleet, even if you can misclassify your employees as contractors and steal their wages, even as you force them to bear the cost of buying and maintaining your taxis.

The magic of early Uber – when taxi rides were incredibly cheap, and there were always cars available, and drivers made generous livings behind the wheel – wasn't magic at all. It was just predatory pricing.

Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar they brought in, lighting $33b of its investors' cash on fire. Most of that money came from the Saudi royals, funneled through Softbank, who brought you such bezzles as WeWork – a boring real-estate company masquerading as a high-growth tech company, just as Uber was a boring taxi company masquerading as a tech company.

Predatory pricing used to be illegal, but Chicago School economists convinced judges to stop enforcing the law on the grounds that predatory pricing was impossible because no rational actor would choose to lose money. They (willfully) ignored the obvious possibility that a VC fund could invest in a money-losing business and use predatory pricing to convince retail investors that a pile of shit of sufficient size must have a pony under it somewhere.

This venture predation let investors – like Prince Bone Saw – cash out to suckers, leaving behind a money-losing business that had to invent ever-sweatier accounting tricks and implausible narratives to keep the suckers on the line while they blew town. A bezzle, in other words:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber is a true bezzle innovator, coming up with all kinds of fairy tales and sci-fi gimmicks to explain how they would convert their money-loser into a profitable business. They spent $2.5b on self-driving cars, producing a vehicle whose mean distance between fatal crashes was half a mile. Then they paid another company $400 million to take this self-licking ice-cream cone off their hands:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Amazingly, self-driving cars were among the more plausible of Uber's plans. They pissed away hundreds of millions on California's Proposition 22 to institutionalize worker misclassification, only to have the rule struck down because they couldn't be bothered to draft it properly. Then they did it again in Massachusetts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/15/simple-as-abc/#a-big-ask

Remember when Uber was going to plug the holes in its balance sheet with flying cars? Flying cars! Maybe they were just trying to soften us up for their IPO, where they advised investors that the only way they'd ever be profitable is if they could replace every train, bus and tram ride in the world:

https://48hills.org/2019/05/ubers-plans-include-attacking-public-transit/

Honestly, the only way that seems remotely plausible is when it's put next to flying cars for comparison. I guess we can be grateful that they never promised us jetpacks, or, you know, teleportation. Just imagine the market opportunity they could have ascribed to astral projection!

Narrative capitalism has its limits. Once Uber went public, it had to produce financial disclosures that showed the line going up, lest the bezzle come to an end. These balance-sheet tricks were as varied as they were transparent, but the financial press kept falling for them, serving as dutiful stenographers for a string of triumphant press-releases announcing Uber's long-delayed entry into the league of companies that don't lose more money every single day.

One person Uber has never fooled is Hubert Horan, a transportation analyst with decades of experience who's had Uber's number since the very start, and who has done yeoman service puncturing every one of these financial "disclosures," methodically sifting through the pile of shit to prove that there is no pony hiding in it.

In 2021, Horan showed how Uber had burned through nearly all of its cash reserves, signaling an end to its subsidy for drivers and rides, which would also inevitably end the bezzle:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/10/unter/#bezzle-no-more

In mid, 2022, Horan showed how the "profit" Uber trumpeted came from selling off failed companies it had acquired to other dying rideshare companies, which paid in their own grossly inflated stock:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/05/a-lousy-taxi/#a-giant-asterisk

At the end of 2022, Horan showed how Uber invented a made-up, nonstandard metric, called "EBITDA profitability," which allowed them to lose billions and still declare themselves to be profitable, a lie that would have been obvious if they'd reported their earnings using Generally Accepted Accounting Principles (GAAP):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Like clockwork, Uber has just announced – once again – that it is profitable, and once again, the press has credulously repeated the claim. So once again, Horan has published one of his magisterial debunkings on Naked Capitalism:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2023/08/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-thirty-three-uber-isnt-really-profitable-yet-but-is-getting-closer-the-antitrust-case-against-uber.html

Uber's $394m gains this quarter come from paper gains to untradable shares in its loss-making rivals – Didi, Grab, Aurora – who swapped stock with Uber in exchange for Uber's own loss-making overseas divisions. Yes, it's that stupid: Uber holds shares in dying companies that no one wants to buy. It declared those shares to have gained value, and on that basis, reported a profit.

Truly, any big number multiplied by an imaginary number can be turned into an even bigger number.

Now, Uber also reported "margin improvements" – that is, it says that it loses less on every journey. But it didn't explain how it made those improvements. But we know how the company did it: they made rides more expensive and cut the pay to their drivers. A 2.9m ride in Manhattan is now $50 – if you get a bargain! The base price is more like $70:

https://www.wired.com/story/uber-ceo-will-always-say-his-company-sucks/

The number of Uber drivers on the road has a direct relationship to the pay Uber offers those drivers. But that pay has been steeply declining, and with it, the availability of Ubers. A couple weeks ago, I found myself at the Burbank train station unable to get an Uber at all, with the app timing out repeatedly and announcing "no drivers available."

Normally, you can get a yellow taxi at the station, but years of Uber's predatory pricing has caused a drawdown of the local taxi-fleet, so there were no taxis available at the cab-rank or by dispatch. It took me an hour to get a cab home. Uber's bezzle destroyed local taxis and local transit – and replaced them with worse taxis that cost more.

Uber won't say why its margins are improving, but it can't be coming from scale. Before the pandemic, Uber had far more rides, and worse margins. Uber has diseconomies of scale: when you lose money on every ride, adding more rides increases your losses, not your profits.

Meanwhile, Lyft – Uber's also-ran competitor – saw its margins worsen over the same period. Lyft has always been worse at lying about it finances than Uber, but it is in essentially the exact same business (right down to the drivers and cars – many drivers have both apps on their phones). So Lyft's financials offer a good peek at Uber's true earnings picture.

Lyft is actually slightly better off than Uber overall. It spent less money on expensive props for its long con – flying cars, robotaxis, scooters, overseas clones – and abandoned them before Uber did. Lyft also fired 24% of its staff at the end of 2022, which should have improved its margins by cutting its costs.

Uber pays its drivers less. Like Lyft, Uber practices algorithmic wage discrimination, Veena Dubal's term describing the illegal practice of offering workers different payouts for the same work. Uber's algorithm seeks out "pickers" who are choosy about which rides they take, and converts them to "ants" (who take every ride offered) by paying them more for the same job, until they drop all their other gigs, whereupon the algorithm cuts their pay back to the rates paid to ants:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

All told, wage theft and wage cuts by Uber transferred $1b/quarter from labor to Uber's shareholders. Historically, Uber linked fares to driver pay – think of surge pricing, where Uber charged riders more for peak times and passed some of that premium onto drivers. But now Uber trumpets a custom pricing algorithm that is the inverse of its driver payment system, calculating riders' willingness to pay and repricing every ride based on how desperate they think you are.

This pricing is a per se antitrust violation of Section 2 of the Sherman Act, America's original antitrust law. That's important because Sherman 2 is one of the few antitrust laws that we never stopped enforcing, unlike the laws banning predator pricing:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/sites/ilr.law.uiowa.edu/files/2023-02/Woodcock.pdf

Uber claims an 11% margin improvement. 6-7% of that comes from algorithmic price discrimination and service cutbacks, letting it take 29% of every dollar the driver earns (up from 22%). Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi himself says that this is as high as the take can get – over 30%, and drivers will delete the app.

Uber's food delivery service – a baling wire-and-spit Frankenstein's monster of several food apps it bought and glued together – is a loser even by the standards of the sector, which is unprofitable as a whole and experiencing an unbroken slide of declining demand.

Put it all together and you get a picture of the kind of taxi company Uber really is: one that charges more than traditional cabs, pays drivers less, and has fewer cars on the road at times of peak demand, especially in the neighborhoods that traditional taxis had always underserved. In other words, Uber has broken every one of its promises.

We replaced the "evil taxi cartel" with an "evil taxi monopolist." And it's still losing money.

Even if Lyft goes under – as seems inevitable – Uber can't attain real profitability by scooping up its passengers and drivers. When you're losing money on every ride, you just can't make it up in volume.

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/09/accounting-gimmicks/#unter

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #bezzles #hubert horan #uber #rideshare #accounting tricks #financial engineering #late-stage capitalism #narrative capitalism #lyft #transit #uber eats #venture predation #algorithmic wage discrimination

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

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get this right * aa23

the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

pairings: alex albon x fem!reader

warnings: literally nOthing just a buNCH OF CUTE SHIT

notes: YALL i’ve been simping for this man for like weeks but in my head, he’s just such a sweetheart that i can’t imagine him in bad situations and nOW I FINALLY GOT IT

also… i’m really liking these multiple scenario fics… if you guys have any suggestions with stuff you want to see, please feel free to send them in here and this has been in my drafts since october oh my gooooood

(f1 masterlist)

“you’re telling me you already bought the ring?” max raises an eyebrow at alex, completely baffled at the story his friend has chosen to bestow upon them.

to the question, alex nods. his head snaps to george, who then asks, “and you’ve had it for almost a month?”

again, the thai nods. “and you have yet to propose?” lando says his piece, just as shocked as the rest of the table is.

alex can only nod, dropping his head in disappointment. in the middle of their circular table sat a red velvet box. inside it is the ring that alex had very carefully picked out with his sisters and mother.

yet the diamond ring sits comfortably in the box instead of your finger. and so does he amongst his friends while he faces the million dollar questions as to why he’s had the ring and has yet to propose to you.

“are you having second thoughts?” charles speaks up, tilting his head and biting his lips in curiosity.

if the answer were to be a ‘yes’, that would be worrisome. considering alex is one of the more romantic people they all know.

“no,” alex finally speak, putting a firm hand down on the table. he meets all of their eyes and feels the judgement. he sighs. “i’m not having second thoughts. i want to marry (y/n) just as much as i said before.”

george lifts his hands up and throws alex a questioning shrug. “so what’s holding you back then?”

“well…” alex chews on the inside of his cheek. he glances down at the box and scrunches up his nose, recounting the numerous times he has tried to get on one knee for you.

“i’m afraid it’s really not that simple.”

-> 20 days ago

alex glances at the door of your shared apartment then his eyes jump to the clock hanging just above your decorative plant. you should be home any minute.

the living room has been decorated beautifully with the help of his sisters. there is a singular heart helium balloon tied down to the bouquet of roses that sits on the kitchen island.

he’s even dressed up in his best suit to greet you a warm welcome home.

he sinks further into his couch, shaking his leg in anticipation. he runs his thumb over the velvet material of the box.

alex hadn’t been planning on proposing to you so soon, if he were to be honest. but he woke up that morning to empty half of the bed, with a note in your handwriting reminding him how much you love him and that breakfast is on the table.

his heart felt so full and he just knew today is the day.

so he got up and called his sisters up. they decorated the house together. with their help, he at least has the slightest idea of what to say to you.

it would be embarrassing if he was stuttering every 5 seconds thinking of what to say to you next.

it was 15 minutes later that he started to get worried about you. you usually get home from work around the same time whenever he’s in town — give or take about 5 minutes.

as if you’d read his mind, his phone lights up with a text notification from you.

my car died. can you pick me up please?

without another question, he is already typing a response to let you know that he will be on the way. he adds on the fact that he will call a tow truck for you after you send him your location.

when he gets there, he sighs in relief that you’re safe. he’d already known you were stuck in the parking lot of a mcdonald’s, but how can he really know when he’s rarely home?

you’re sitting on the trunk of your car, eating some ice cream with your phone propped up a box of nuggets. you’re fully occupied by a video you’ve put on to accompany yourself during the wait.

“my love, why didn’t you sit in the car where the seat’s more comfortable?” alex asks as he opens the car door.

you turn your head and open your mouth with an answer, but immediately close it when he comes into view. your eyes scan him up and down, slowly gulping the remaining ice cream in your mouth.

you point at him with the spoon of your mcflurry. “why are you dressed all fancy? you were gonna go out, love?”

alex freezes. he hadn’t even thought of changing out of his outfit before coming to get you. now he has to scrape his brain for an excuse to throw you off, without sabotaging the relationship whole.

it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head. you’ll totally buy the excuse. “i was giving my clothes a test run,” he giggles sheepishly, but hesitantly from the daggers you were shooting at him. “wanted to see what fit and what didn’t.”

he can almost envision the gears turning in your head as you process his lie. he sighs again when you turn away to lock your phone.

he’s a very bad liar. for two people who have been together for as long as you’ve been, it’s very easy to spot all his telltales.

he tries his best not to lie to you. today is when he’s exerting every single ounce of his ability to do so.

“my car battery died. i saw a screw lose when i’d checked,” you explain, gently climbing off the back of your car. you waddle over to him, lips puckered up as he bends down to meet your lips. “i’m sorry to trouble you, love. i’m sure you were enjoying your fashion show.”

he chuckles, pulling you in for a quick hug. “anything for you, my love.” he walks over to where you are and opens the mcdonald’s paper bag. “oh, you bought us dinner?”

“you dinner,” you correct him. you lean slightly into him with a loud and frustrated huff with your arms hanging around him loosely. “i’ve had such a long day at work today. it could really be deemed as the worst day; i just want to go home and relax.”

alex scrambles in his mind, thinking of several ways he can deviate you from the house a little longer. he makes a mental note to text his sister to do a quick cleanup before you make your way home.

he simply refuses to propose to you when you’re in a bad mood. he doesn’t think your answer would change depending on how you currently feel, but it just doesn’t feel right.

alex hums, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you. “what do you say we go to our spot up in the hills and chill for a little bit?”

he watches you in anticipation. if you didn’t agree, he really wouldn’t know what to do at all. there are only so many excuses he can make. and there's only so much time before his sisters can get to the apartment and get cleaning.

“hm, okay." you lean into him and squeeze him in your hug. “anywhere with you is relaxing.”

-> 18 days ago

so alex shall try again in the planned department. he is once again in your shared apartment. there is a singular rose this time with dinner on the table. this time, decorated by himself.

he’s practised in the mirror. what he should say. everything he had planned out a few days ago is forgotten as the nerves are slightly different this time.

he doesn't get nervous often, but whenever it comes to you, it's inevitable that it bothers him. when it first happened, it was a confusing feeling that he spent days pondering what exactly it is.

when george smacked his head and told him, he looked down shyly at the ground and nodded.

he got the same feeling when he asked you to be his girlfriend and met your parents.

his chosen seat is a bar stool this time, and he plays some games on his phone to remain calm and collected. though still a little bit distracted.

his attention is split between the phone in his hands and the door. occasionally, the footsteps in the hallway make his heart stop as he looks up and waits for a lock to click. it's never the door he wants to open.

his game is briefly interrupted, his mother's picture flashing on the screen while his phone buzzes. it's not unusual that she's calling, but it is a bit of a shock since she knows he's planning to propose tonight.

he picks up the call, an explanation as to why he hasn't texted at the tip of his tongue.

“i’m sorry, sweetie,” his mother’s panicked voice comes through the phone. “can you please come over? it’s an emergency.”

that’s all he needed to hear before he was darting all over the apartment. he’s popped the balloon, as there was clearly no need for it tonight, the rose is hiding behind a bunch of folded shirts in his drawer and the velvet red box goes back into the deepest pit of his underwear drawer.

this time, he remembers to change out of his clothes. it’s slightly less put together than before, but it was still an effort.

“alex, love?” the sound of the door opening makes him perk up. your voice bounces through the apartment, followed by the pitter-patter of the cats’ nails against the hardwood floor. “are you home?”

he stumbles out of your bedroom, pulling up his sweatpants. “i need to go over to mum’s.”

you stop dead in your tracks, the door still held open and the key in your hands. clearly, you notice his panic in the way he’s barely even greeted you. you raise your eyebrows and step aside, leaving a gap for him to go through the door.

“i can drive you if you want,” you offer him, watching him jog towards the car keys.

he’s shaking, and it’s noticeable from the way he’s struggling to find his wallet. his wallet that is very clearly sitting above the shoerack in the entryway.

you grab it swiftly and say his name. it makes him stop briefly, turning to you as he held up the couch’s cushion, still in search of his wallet.

you lift up the leather item and then show him your car keys. you nudge your head towards the hallway. “come on, i’ll drive.”

-> 10 days ago

third time's the charm, right? right?

alex sits in his chair, hands fixing his collar, then his hair, picking at the menu, and then the lace table cover.

"hey, love," you say from behind him, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. "i'm sorry i'm late. there was traffic in the parking lot at the office."

"don't worry about it. i just arrived not too long ago." alex gets up to his feet, pulling you in for a tight hug. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before running over to pull your seat back for you.

you thank him with the squeeze of his arm while you take your seat. you grab the menu and get comfortable in your seat. "have you looked at the menu yet?"

"not yet, i was waiting for you."

he feels like a stalker watching you from across the table. his hand is in his jacket's pocket, rubbing circles over the velvety material once more. when exactly is the right time to ask you?

"how was work?" alex starts, taking the menu into his hands, looking at you shyly as he awaits your response.

"it's alright. nothing out of the ordinary from me," you mutter with a shrug, flashing him a small grin before returning your attention to the menu. "the pasta looks good, don't you think?"

"i saw their salmon dish online - that looked good," alex answers. but he's been on the same page of the menu for a hot minute, his eyes have read the same item so many times that he has its description memorised.

all he can think of is how to transition to popping the question.

"it does look delicious... do you want to share a dessert after too?" you inquire, looking up at him with a huge smile. "i really want the lava cake."

"with vanilla ice cream?"

"of course!"

and you make small talk with him. which almost makes him forget the ring that's in the pocket of his jacket. you talk and he thinks and thinks and tries to find the perfect time to pop the question to you.

until your smile drops and your head angles to the side slightly. your lips part as your eyes move from his, over to the door in pure shock.

"love, what's wrong?" alex follows your moving gaze.

and he also freezes in his seat. it's his ex-girlfriend. the same exact person that you'd mentioned you thought you could never live up to.

all because his mother had slipped up and asked about her over casual conversation over dinner, and because you had noticed that his sisters still kept in constant contact with her.

he watches you, from the corner of his eyes, sink into your seat and drop your head. you press your lips together and give him a small smile. "maybe let's cancel dessert? i'm not very hungry."

-> now

"do you get why it's a little complicated now?" alex groans, throwing his head back. "it's not like i haven't tried."

charles presses his lips together, nodding slightly as he tries to assess the situation for himself. he hasn't proposed to anybody in his life, so what advice does he have to give his friend? "maybe you're overthinking it?"

"yeah," george nods. "maybe you just have to... ask her. just ask her."

"you're aware i'm proposing to her. i'm not just asking some random girl to be my prom date to the dance," alex lays out his situation slowly, scanning his friends' faces carefully.

they're not serious about just asking you without a whole get-up, are they? he never would have asked them if he'd known how minuscule this issue was to them. it's never as simple as just asking you to marry him.

it's an important question.

"actually, i think twiddle dee and twiddle dum have got a point," max smiles, pointing at their two other friends now rolling their eyes. "if it all keeps blowing up in your face when you plan your proposal, maybe you just need to do it when you... get the feeling. you know?"

"no."

"just do it when you're so overwhelmed at the thought of spending the rest of your life with her," george shrugs, taking a sip from his drink. "would help the nerves, and it makes it more genuine."

alex shakes his head. "i don't know. that doesn't make the moment very special, now, does it?"

"just try it, and then let me know."

-> 5 days later

"love!" your excited voice fills the house, prompting alex to lift his head from the armrest of the couch.

he'd been home all day, claiming a rest day from the gym and other press commitments before he had to do it all over again this weekend for another race.

"yes, love?" alex smiles, opening his arms, watching you walk out of the kitchen and excitedly walk over to him. "what's got you so preppy?"

"love, i was outside coming home from work, and i saw the cutest little snail right outside the apartment building," you giggle, dropping your bag by the foot of the couch. you drop yourself into his arms, adjusting yourself to fit the small space that the couch provides you. "i took a picture, look!"

"you took a picture of a snail?"

"yes!" you nod. "its shell looked so beautiful. and i even moved it to the side so that nobody could step on it unknowingly. just so sad when that happens to them."

and then he knows. it hits him, then and there, while you were rambling on about how beautiful this snail's shell is, that this is the moment. this is the moment that max was talking about.

he props his head up with his hand, nodding as you zoom into the picture you'd taken.

"we should get married," alex blurts, unable to hold himself back. the ring is not even with him - it's somewhere in the back of his closet. but it doesn't even seem like a necessary accessory for him at the moment.

"what?" you tilt your head, slowly dropping your hand into your lap. you sit up and look down at him. "alex, what did you say?"

"i have the ring and everything. hold on." alex scrambles to get off his seat, but you shake your head and put a hand over his chest. you pull him back into the couch, maintaining his position next to you with a puzzled stare.

"did you just say what i thought you just said?"

"yes. and i've been trying to propose to you all month," alex sighs, "something always goes wrong: your car broke down, my mum called, then we saw my ex in the restaurant. i tried setting it up, and of course, i ask you when i don't have the ring with me."

he's flailing his arms in the air as he explains his troubles to you, ultimately throwing his hands towards the direction of your bedroom before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you. "i wanted it to be a picture-perfect moment. i wanted it to be everything you dreamt about growing up. remember?"

"so i heard you right? you're asking me to marry you?" you can barely hide the smile growing on your face, eyes tearing up as you grab his hands. "i don't care about the ring. you're asking me to marry you?"

"do you still want to? i couldn't even propose to you right."

"of course, i want to marry you," you giggle, throwing your arms around him. you pepper his cheek with kisses, alex hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist as he leans back onto the couch. "i love you, alex. you just had to ask me the question. i don't care how, where or when you'd say it."

"obviously, i didn't know that until now," alex laughs. he buries his face into your hair, making a mental note to thank max next weekend for the helpful tip.

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #aa23 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 fanfic

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florencemtrash · 5 months

Text

Wedding Invitations

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Miguel take the day to distribute wedding invitations to the Spider-Gang. But in the midst of all the congratulations they forget to tell a very important member of the wedding party...

Warnings: Fluff, Spider-Gang family dynamics, Miguel's got a touch of baby fever

Author's Note: I FINALLY got around to writing this Miguel x Reader oneshot that's been in my WIP dump for ages. This can be read on its own, or as a continuation of my Hummingbird series.

Masterlist of Masterlists

________________________

You blinked around Spidey-HQ, buzzing with excitement and armed with a stack of cream-colored envelopes. The cards within had the following words printed in lacy gold lettering:

Miguel O’Hara and Y/n L/n Invite you to join their wedding celebration on Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 4:30pm St. Javier’s Cathedral 115 Hammond St

You’d visited Pavitr first, finding him tucked away in an alcove on the top floors where he went about carefully oiling his hair.

“FINALLY!” He squealed, sprinting away to wash his hands before gingerly accepting the invitation like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “You’re getting married!” He snatched one hand, then the other, splaying your fingers and searching for the ring, “Where is it? Where is it? I want to see it.”

You chuckled, “Calm down, Gollum.” You reached into your shirt, pulling out the chain where you’d been hiding the ring for the past eight months. “I don’t wear it very often. Art teacher and superhero - remember?”

It was a shame. It was a beautiful, vintage ring originally belonging to Miguel’s mother. He’d since updated it, replacing two of the missing stones with small burgundy gems that matched the color of his eyes. Even if you couldn’t wear it often, you kept it with you at all times, resting against your heart.

Pavitr began to vibrate with excitement, bouncing on his feet. “Can I-Can I tell-?”

“Yes, you can tell people.”

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Yes. Miguel’s probably already sent out a general announcement by now.”

As if on cue both your watches beeped, a red notification popping up.

Announcement: Y/n and I are getting married. Don’t get upset if you're not invited to the ceremony. There are literally thousands of you. Reception will be at Spidey HQ atrium Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 7pm. All are welcome.

“Perfect timing.” You said, smiling at the words Y/n and I are getting married. You still couldn’t believe it, even though you’d been sitting on the knowledge in silence for the past six months.

“Oh and Pavitr. Miguel will probably ask you this again later but… would you like to be a groomsman in the wedding?”

Pavitr’s lips trembled, then broke into the widest smile imaginable, brown eyes crinkling. He surged forward, wrapping his lanky arms around you and spinning you around.

“YES! YES! A million times yes!” He gasped. You may as well have gotten on your knees and asked for his hand in marriage. “Oh my goodness this is all I've ever wanted. What are the wedding colors? I need to get a new sherwani.” He finally let you down, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you desperately, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS SOONER?!”

You gripped his hands, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling. Pavitr's energy was unmatched and you could feel his joy rubbing off on you.

“It’s really going to be a simple ceremony. And we didn’t want to pressure any of you with the typical wedding prep stuff.”

He looked incredulous, “So no bachelorette party? No-no manicure days or spa days or...”

You shook your head no and his jaw dropped.

“WRONG!” He shouted, touching the tip of your nose with his finger, “Are you free next Saturday night? Yes? Good.” He shook his finger at you, “No wedding prep stuff? Really? Pah!” He threw his hands in the air, muttering as he walked away and started dialing up Gwen and Miles.

“You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Gwen asked, mouth agape. She pushed her lunch tray to the side, the excitement chasing away her appetite for the time being.

“Fuck that. You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Miles slammed the milk carton on the table, spilling a few drops, “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Piss off, Miles.” Gwen teased, ruffling his curls. "I'm her favorite."

“One semester abroad with Hobie and you’re already sounding like a Brit.” He teased back, never moving far enough apart from her that they weren’t touching.

She’d recently gone for a shag haircut. The tips of her dyed hair fading into a pale bubblegum blue. The new nose piercing completed the look and Miles was smitten.

You wrung your hands together. “Well I’m telling you now! And! I’m asking you to be part of the wedding party. So what do you say? Wanna be a groomsman and a bridesmaid?”

They didn’t even look at each other before saying, “Absolutely!” In perfect unison.

The rest of the day went similarly, full of excited squeals and hugs and twirls. Everyone at Spidey-HQ - minus some of the newcomers - knew who you were and didn’t hesitate to shout their joy, whooping and calling out across the atrium.

“CONGRATS, TEACH!”

“LET’S GO! SPIDER-WEDDING!”

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

Hobie leaned against the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his patchwork leather jacket and flashing every color of the rainbow.

He stuck his hand out without a word, a crooked smile on his face, “I don’t believe in state-sanctioned marriage, you know. You and Miguel are already married - have been for ages in my book.”

“You rummaged around in your bag for the last of the invitations, finally locating the envelope that had slipped into one of the inner pockets and out of sight.

You hesitated, trying to hide your disappointment, “... so does that mean you’re not coming then?”

Hobie quickly snatched the invitation out of your hands, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles. You laughed, shoving him away and fixing the tangles he’d made in your hair.

“Pffft, of course I’m coming. It’s important to you.” He shoved the cream-colored paper into his pockets alongside a couple posters he hadn’t found a proper place to plaster them on yet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirked, “But I hope you’re not expecting me to show up in a suit.”

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“And are you going to ask me to be a groomsman or something? Make a toast at dinner?” There was no contempt in his voice… If anything he seemed expectant. Happy.

“Actually, Miguel and I were hoping you could be the flower girl with May and Benjy.”

He brightened up, flashing a sunflower yellow and shooting off curls of newspaper print like fireworks.

“HA! I like it. I like it.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opening his arms wide and sighing like he was giving up on an age-old war, “Alright, get in here, girl. I wanna hug you.”

You giggled, scrunching up your nose in satisfied glee as Hobie finally gave into his softness. He liked to pretend he was cooler than everyone else in the room - and he usually was - but that didn’t stop him from also being the softest person you’d ever met.

“Congratulations.” He said, propping his head up on top of your head and mussing up your hair once again.

“Thanks, Hobie.”

You weren’t alone in spreading the news - Miguel was making his own rounds. Margo was the first one he’d told, by virtue of the fact that she was nearest to his office.

“Hey, Margo.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He held out the envelope, Margo’s headpiece peeling away from her sleek cornrows. Her eyes glittered purple, wide open and staring.

“Really?” She asked hesitantly, reaching out for the paper.

“Of course, Margo. You’re family. We want you there.”

Her eyes softened and she read through the invitation quietly.

“Y/n was also hoping you’d be a bridesmaid.” He tapped the additional paper sealed in her envelope. “Nothing fancy, but we wanted you at the front with everyone else. Miles, Gwen, Peter B, LEGO P-oof.”

Miguel huffed as Margo all but rammed into his chest, the edges of her flickering. Who knew virtual reality bodies were so durable and dense.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.

Margo didn’t like to talk about home, preferring the VR life she led with the Spider-Society. They were her real family now… she just liked the confirmation.

“Anytime, kid.”

She cleared her throat, pushing him away as quickly as she’d hugged him. “Alright, get out of here. I’m sure everyone wants to see you right now.” She turned around, wiping at her eyes in real life. Her VR body did the same.

Miguel chuckled, rubbing his neck again. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention he’d been receiving since meeting you and learning to open up again. It was almost as if he was likable when he wasn’t acting like a complete asshole.

He was chased by compliments and congratulations all day, Spider-people stopping him to clap him on the back or to bump shoulders like they knew just how absolutely whipped he was.

Something about announcing your engagement to the world made the whole thing feel more real, like he could taste it as physically as he could taste your lips whenever he kissed you. He didn’t wear his engagement ring very often for the same reasons as you, but he slipped it on his finger halfway through the day, standing a little straighter, and looking a little prouder after doing so.

LEGO Peter was next and he’d practically swooned when Miguel had handed him his invitation between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d printed an extra-small version for him. Then he’d fainted when Miguel asked him to be a groomsman, his brick body going rigid and toppling back with the same rattle as a teacup saucer.

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Miguel called out, slipping his head back out of the portal into his own universe.

He needed to make a home visit for Jessica, but she had a champagne bottle ready to burst when Miguel appeared into her home in a crackle of color and brushstrokes.

“AHH! HA!” She tossed her head back with glee. Her mane of pitch black hair smelled like coconut and citrus. “CONGRATULATIONS! Malcolm! Malcolm, get your ass in here. Miguel’s arrived.”

Her husband slid across the living room entrance, a chubby three-year-old boy balanced on his hip and grabbing at his locs.

“Miguel!”

“Hey, Malcolm.”

“Mig!”

“Heyyyy, Jefferson.” Miguel laughed when the little boy grabbed at him, latching onto a strand of brown hair and tugging.

Jessica clicked her tongue, “Jeff, what have we talked about.”

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, patting Miguel’s head and slapping him in the face in the process.

“It’s alright, kid.”

“OOooooh. Get in here, Migs.” Jessica was grinning brighter than the sun, radiating warmth as she wound her arms around his ribs and used her strength to lift him off his feet and shake him like a rag doll.

“Careful, Jess. Can’t break the groom before his wedding.”

“Pfffft, Miguel’s not made of glass, honey.”

That much was obvious enough. Miguel had to keep his body crooked to avoid banging his head against the hanging ceiling lights.

“Congratulations, man.” Malcolm hugged him next, being notably gentler than his wife. He still slapped Miguel’s back hard enough to rattle his shoulders though.

Miguel stayed for a long while, until him and Jess had made their way through three bottles of champagne just because they could. Their bodies burned through alcohol way too quickly to get drunk - a fact that had disappointed Miles when he went off to college for the first time last year.

Jess and Malcolm leaned towards one another like sunflowers to light, with little Jefferson splashed across both their knees and struggling to stay awake as the sun pressed against the windows and turned their pale yellow walls golden.

That would be him someday, with you and your son.

The thought shook him to his core. First, because it was a secret hope that he’d never dared to even dream about and second, because it was now possible. Wonderfully, beautifully possible.

His heart began to flutter, the absence of you by his side suddenly feeling like a gaping hole instead of a subtle ache.

Jess seemed to understand that, making a show of looking at the clock and then down at her son’s open mouth drooling against Malcolm’s arm.

“We should get this little guy to bed.”

“On it.”

“I’ll head out then. Thanks for everything, Jess.”

She made a noise with her tongue, brushing off his thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. “Get out of here you big sap. And tell Y/n I said congratulations too! Actually, scratch that. I’m coming in tomorrow so I’ll tell her in person.”

Miguel chuckled, “Alright then.”

He gave a final hug to Malcolm and Jessica. Jefferson stirred in his mother’s arms just long enough to babble something that sounded adorably close to, “I’m not… I’m not sleepy. I-” before his eyes rolled back and he slumped onto Jessica’s shoulder.

You sat curled up in Miguel’s office chair, legs thrown over one of the armrests as you flipped through the pages of your book on the life of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley. Occasionally your eyes would flicker to the array of monitors, watching the careful web of universes as they flickered and morphed. Fluid, but stable, and in a perfect balance of chaos and order.

Miguel drifted into the room behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

“Mi amor,” He murmured. You hummed happily, tilting your head further to give him better access. “How is everything going on with you?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“That’s a pretty great answer.” He chuckled, finishing with a quick kiss to your lips. He came around, lifting you up with ease before sitting down in his chair and placing you in his lap, “And how are things in the Spider-Verse?”

You made a self-satisfied hmph sound. Thank god he’d finally stopped calling it the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. What a mouthful.

“Holding strong and steady.” You flicked your fingers to the side, pulling up the latest day report that you’d already handed two hours ago, “B76’s Black Cat and 1805’s Venom were the only anomalies. Done and dusted with no issue. Reports are on file under Project Catalyst.”

“Perfect.”

Miguel stretched comfortably, curling in on you and resting his head on your chest like the world’s most luxurious cat.

You snorted, blinking your book away with a snap of your fingers and running your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. He groaned softly when you lightly dragged your fingernails against his scalp.

“Right there, babe.” He encouraged, sighing with contentment.

You stayed like that for a long while, one of Miguel’s arms wrapped around your waist and his other hand snaking up your stomach to rub circles against your smooth skin. Unbeknownst to you, he was quietly thinking about what it might be like if you ever decided to have kids. If one day he’d be so lucky to lay like this against you and quietly talk to the little child growing in your stomach.

He shook his head, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Everything ok, Migs?” You curled your finger beneath his chin, gently tilting his face up to look at you. His eyes softened.

“Yeah. Everything’s perfect.”

You couldn’t help it, you blushed under the softness of his gaze. It was strange how you could get into hundreds of fist-fights, get knocked on your ass dozens of times over, and yet crumble at the sight of his auburn eyes. You didn’t mind the vulnerability though - you knew Miguel felt the same.

You looked down at his hands, noticing the flash of silver on his finger.

"You wore it today?"

He smiled when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm, "Felt appropriate."

You tugged the necklace out from under your shirt, carefully slipping the ring off the chain. Miguel took it wordlessly from you, gently kissing your hand before sliding the ring onto your finger. It was warm to the touch after hours pressed against your heart and Miguel felt a surge of love flood his chest seeing you wear it.

“Busy day, huh?” You asked when he settled back down, holding your hand tightly in his.

He groaned, “You could say that. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people talk to me in my life.”

You prodded him in the side, “That’s not saying very much.”

“Ouch.” He grinned, kissing your chest.

“Did everyone say yes to joining the wedding party?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yup.” Your lips popped on the end of the word.

Miguel grinned wide and unabashedly leaning closer to you, “Then we got ourselves a wedding,” he said, smiling against your lips. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon.

You chuckled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have sprung this on them so soon.”

Miguel shrugged, “We needed to tell them at some point, cariño. And it’s not like we’re doing all the extra stuff. They just need to show up to the church at this point.”

“I know that. But Pavitr seemed to disagree. Apparently I'm going to have a bachelorette party next weekend.”

He pouted, “No party for me?! I’m hurt.”

“Peter didn’t bring it up with you? I thought he'd be over the moon about being Best Man.”

Miguel’s head shot up, thick brows furrowing in confusion beneath a bed of ruffled curls, “I thought you were going to tell Peter.”

You tipped your head to the side, “I thought you were going to tell to Peter?”

“Yeah, LEGO Peter.”

Silence, thick and full of horror fell over both of you.

“Did… did neither of us tell Peter and MJ?” You whispered.

Miguel closed his eyes, his face plummeting into the soft skin of your chest, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

The double doors to Miguel’s office slid open with a groan of disappointment. Peter stood there with his legs splayed, carving out a disgruntled shape in his signature pink bathrobe that he never took off, especially with the new addition to his family.

Mayday clung to her father’s chest, her brother’s chestnut mop poking out from behind Peter’s shoulder. Benjy’s grin was gummy and wide and he wore matching noise-canceling headphones with his sister.

“Fuck.” You repeated, your face falling flat.

MJ leaned against the doorway and rubbed her temples with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Peter stalked forward, absolutely livid.

“You MOTHERFUCK—

*cut scene*

*Alexa, play 'Blitzkrieg Bop' by The Ramones*

____________________

Author's note (again!):

Just some funny gifs I thought were appropriate for the characters:

Peter storming into the room because his best friends forgot to tell him about their engagement:

Pavitr learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

LEGO Peter learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Love,

Florence B.

#miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x wife reader #Spider-gang #found family #Hummingbird #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #hobie brown #across the spider verse

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deliciousbasementtrash · 7 months

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Injustice Gods Among Us Year 5 #15

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. Will you take it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, parental abuse, parental neglect

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One, Part Two

Part Three: Skip-Bo and Chess

My mind raced as I went over the contract. Everything seemed too simple, too easy. The only terms and conditions I had to abide by were that I wouldn’t reveal his identity and that I would need to essentially be on call from the hours of 21:00 to 7:00, but roughly 24/7. The pay was a ridiculous amount. The insurance was crazy good. I didn’t realize it was possible to get that much coverage. But this went against everything I have represented in my life. Would I be betraying the people of Gotham, my patients, and my fellow coworkers, by taking this job? Would I be betraying myself and my past history?

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago

My father and I stood over my mother’s grave. It was strange. My mom was a woman who breathed life into everything. She never wore a dull color, she danced whenever she could, and she sang horribly and off tune. She wore her hair in two long braids with colorful ribbons. She wore sweet perfume. She wore red lipstick. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets she jingled when she walked. She snorted when she laughed. And now when I looked at her all I saw was dirt and a gravestone. Her colorfulness, her loudness, her laughter, her joy, all of it was gone. I knew I couldn’t cry though. Not in front of Dad. He got so much meaner when I did. Sometimes I wonder what my beautiful, colorful, caring mother saw in this cruel bleak man. But I guess his bitterness was supposed to balance out her sweetness.

But without her, it felt like I was choking on the disgusting taste of my reality. We were grieving. We had no money. And the debt just seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. I tried selling homemade cookies at school to help out. I raised about 22 dollars. I came home with a smile on my face and handed my father the money. He pocketed it without another word. It was almost worse when he was like this.

It felt like he was a teapot that was brewing and I was just waiting for the wrong thing to set him off.

Some days when I came home from school he was home. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at me. Other days he wasn’t there. I had to scavenge the house for food or walk to the convenience store with what little money I had scurried away.

It felt like my life had become black and white without my mom. Everything seemed so hopelessly bad. Then one day my dad came home with a smile on his face. My first instinct was to tense my body and avert my gaze. I didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Sweetie, come with me. I have an idea,” my father said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out the door with him.

He drove like a maniac and pulled up towards a seemingly abandoned building. My blood ran cold with anticipation.

My father practically ripped me out of the car and dragged me inside. Inside there were about twenty men all pretty beat up. All of them looked at me. I picked at my hangnails and looked at my father.

“Y/n, these gentlemen need to be healed. Be a doll and heal them.” My father’s words were clipped, and my pulse raced. I merely nodded and healed man after man. It became clear to me, even at my young age, that these men were a part of a gang. Who’s? I had no idea.

That was until a fat man in a tuxedo and a cane walked up to my father. He handed him a bundle of cash, they whispered some hurried words and the grotesque man leaned down towards me.

His short fat finger booped my nose, and the man tilted his head back and laughed at my reaction. I wanted to bite his finger off. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom.

For the next two years, my father did business with anyone that could pay him. Our life went from living by the penny to living in luxury. All due to my power. The richest of the rich, politicians, businessmen, criminals, and villains, all used my services. And eventually, they tried to buy me.

That’s when I decided to run away. Or die trying.

Gotham City: Present Day

I sat across from Sam, my best friend, and nurse colleague. “What do you think I should do?” She was the only one that I trusted enough to tell everything to. Of course, I left out the whole, ‘My boss would be Batman thing.’

“Girl, if you don’t take this job I will kill you,” Sam said, taking a large bite of her pasta.

“Do you think I’m betraying my younger self? I promised I would never be bought. I would never work for a corrupt man.”

“Maybe you should discuss with Mr. Wayne, that you would like to remain a nurse part-time. That way you ease your conscious about everything but still live in a fucking MANSION and make BANK, you dummy head. And this way you’re reclaiming your past. You get to choose. You’re not trapped.”

I mindlessly pushed my food around my plate, lost in thought. “That’s not a terrible idea.”

“Of course not, I never have bad ideas. Take one more night to think about it. But I think you have your answer.”

That night I tossed and turned in my bed. I grabbed my phone, the bright screen making me blink.

[I accept your terms, but I do have a few remediations to the contract. Signed, y/f/n y/l/n.]

One week later.

“How are you taking to your new living situation, Miss y/l/n?” Alfred asked as he expertly julienned an onion. I not as gracefully diced several cloves of garlic across from him.

I looked up at him, smiling, “I’m still getting used to it, to be honest.” It had become a silent routine over the past week. When I wasn’t working at the hospital, or patching up Batman, I got bored. So, I started helping Alfred with cooking.

He taught me how to play chess. I taught him how to play Skip-Bo and dominos. I had grown quite fond of the man over the short period. It most definitely was my daddy issues clinging to the first nice man I saw. But Alfred Pennyworth seemed truly kind to me.

I hadn’t met any other members of Bruce’s family, but supposedly they were all meeting for dinner tonight. For some reason, my pulse spiked at the thought of meeting them. My past gave me anxiety when meeting new people I didn’t know.

As if reading my thoughts Alfred asked, “How are you feeling about meeting everyone tonight?”

I cut a piece of garlic a bit harshly, “I’m– I’m fine. Do you know if I am to meet them after the dinner or before?”

Alfred’s eyebrows quirked, “What do you mean? You most probably will meet them at dinner. You are attending are you not?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to eat with the family or not,” I stated, hesitantly.

I heard a twang of metal as Alfred set down his knife. He gave me his full attention as he said, “Master Wayne may seem abrasive, Miss. But I assure you, he would never have to eat separately unless that is what you wished.”

Abrasive was one way to put it. He often reminded me of a feral cat when I tried to heal him. He would practically hiss that he was fine. I had to politely remind my employer a few times that this was what I was here for and to let me heal him.

We cooked in silence for a while, when out of the blue I asked Alfred, “Alfred, are you happy?”

Alfred always holding his poise answered calmly, “Happiness is something that fluctuates in my life, Miss. I will say that knowing that Master Wayne and the rest of the family are in your capable hands is reassuring me as of late. I also have been enjoying your company, no matter how many times you beat me in Skip-Bo.”

I laughed, a true genuine laugh. “Hey, you win every time we play chess!”

Alfred smiled softly, “Miss I have been playing chess since I was five years old. If I lost I think I would have to revoke my Englishmanship.”

After my laughter died down, another question popped in my head, “What are they like? Mr. Wayne’s family?”

Alfred smiled, “Those children are loud, argumentative, loyal, funny, stubborn, etc. I love those children with everything I am. You will too, Miss y/l/n.”

An unfamiliar sense of warmth bloomed in my chest, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Thank you, Miss y/l/n.”

As I was getting dressed. I could not pick out what I wanted to wear. Did I want to go casual with a tee shirt and jeans? A bit more formal with a dress? Semi-casual with a skirt and sweater? I decided on the last one, with some tights on underneath. I wanted to make a good impression. It felt like the first day of school. I made my way down the stairs. No one had arrived yet. I took a seat next to Alfred, my leg bouncing.

Alfred patted my shoulder when we heard the door open, “It will be just fine.”

The loud oncoming footsteps mimicked my thundering pulse.

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tonyboneysblog · 8 days

Text

MOTHER HEN: PART THREE

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: talks of abuse/ trauma!

notes: yall I cooked on this angst chapter (there’s comfort after I swear)

summary: You, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

It’s been maybe a week or two since Fumikage, your precious angel, has spread his wings and joined U.A.

and today is currently your off day! Which isn’t completely rare but you still enjoy them.

Most the time you clean and tidy up the house, checking the fridge to see if you need to get groceries- which is your favorite because you love going to the grocery store and-…it’s full?

inside has a small note in Fumikages hand writing…

“Decide to go shopping for you so you could rest, Love Fumikage & Dark Shadow.”

darn your amazing son.

so now, you don’t have anything to do because your son decided he wanted to helpful.

So what do you do?

watch the news of course.

Nothing interesting is happening today really, maybe today is just a slow day!

those are your least favorite.

but then, your savior came, that one bird guy you saw at the restaurant!

apparently he was doing an interview today on channel 58, and you were only slightly interested in him.

So you switch to the channel obviously, seeing his amazing wings that were much bigger than yours…

you really don’t know how long you watched that interview- then decided to watch a few videos on his quote, “epic saves”.

Maybe it was the wings, they were bright and shiny- maybe it’s just a bird thing.

what’s not a bird thing though is going onto G-bay to find overpriced merch of him.

It’s like starting a really good show and hyper-fixating on the side character instead of the main one.

After about 20 minutes of scrolling, you finally found your holy grail.

a 15 inch hawks plush with metallic wings, now you really liked shiny things- which is why it caught your eye.

Probably just a bird thing.

It was 30 dollars though…well whatever you’ll regret this later.

now all you have to do is wait for your new shiny edition to your nest! and while waiting you don’t mind watching more-

BZZT BZZT BZZT

your phone vibrates, it’s a call from the school?

Fumikage did warn you it would get kind of crazy up at U.A.- did he get hurt?

“Is this Ms.Tokoyami?”

you hesitate, “uhm yes, is something wrong with Fumikage at the school? did he get in a fight?”

Now it was the principals turn to hesitate, “ah, no ma’am, we just need to inform you that the school was attacked by villains-“

what?

“I-is my son okay?!”

“Ma’am, please calm down-“

You immediately snap, “don’t you tell me to fucking calm down- your supposed to be the top hero school and you somehow get infiltrated by some thugs?!”

“Ma’am, please-“

You hang up, you know where Fumikage is.

So you get into your car and drive as fast as the law will let you.

You reach the school and immediately get out of your car looking for Fumikage.

You can see a group of students standing by multiple cops, and you finally spot Fumikage.

You sigh out of relief, he’s safe, he’s here, you’re here.

You start to run towards him, “Fumi!”

He instantly looks around for who called him, seeing you.

“M-mother?!”

you can here his class gasp, repeating what he said.

You reach Fumikage, your beautiful boy, and hug him tightly.

“M-mother, what are you doing here?” He says with confusion.

“Principal called to notify me, so I came straight away.”

You pull back and cup his face, “are you a okay, Fumi?”

“M-mother not infront of the class…” he whispers with embarrassment.

“Fumi, you worried me sick! Are we able to leave now? I want you home.”

“Yes mother, I just gave my statement to-“

You grab Fumikages hand and drag him to the car, “good, let’s go then.”

Fumikage hops into the car, still with his hero costume on.

“Best hero school my ass…” you whisper angrily.

“It was the villains quirk, mama.”

“Yea well I expect better from U.A.- you better have not even been near those villains!”

Fumikage looks away.

“Fumi, please tell me they kept you away from the villains.”

“Well we got separated and-“

that’s definitely a fucking email.

You put your head onto the steering wheel.

“Do you not have any hope in my ability’s?!”Fumikage angrily bursts out.

“Excuse me- you shouldn’t have even been near those villains.” You say angrily.

“I can handle myself.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m training to be a hero, mother!- I can get beaten up if I have to.”

“You shouldn’t have to!”

“Well dad did didn’t he? Is that why he left?!”

Then the car goes quiet.

You don’t like talking about Tokoyamis father, you always argued with him about how hard you worked and how hard he worked- training to become a hero.

He told you he didn’t need a “loose end” on his record, he didn’t need Fumikage.

you don’t like talking about him at all.

“Fumikage, I don’t like talking about him.”

“He was a hero, he worked for that didn’t he?”

You don’t understand why Fumikage wants to put him in a good light.

“He was barely a hero, he left you Fumikage.”

Fumikage whispers, “Maybe that was the right thing to do.”

You smack the steering wheel, “You needed a father Fumi, I couldn’t do all of that by myself- I…”

He raises his voice, “Is that why you let Ryuji do that to me, because you thought I needed a father?!”

“Fumikage, I didn’t know he was like that!” You plead with him.

“You were barely even home, you barely know me!”

“watch your tone, boy.”

Fumikage immediately stops, he always hated when you were angry with him.

So angry to the point you stopped using his name, the one you gave him.

You take the car out of park, and start the drive home.

it’s quiet, you like it like that anyways.

Ryuji was nice to Fumikage when you were home.

Sometimes you wish you could be at home all the time for Fumikage.

You wish that you could know him more, you just want him to live a good life.

It was four years ago, you decided to come home early, Fumikage and Ryuji were arguing about something stupid- you forgot what it was about.

You saw Ryuji pin Fumikage against the wall and then he started screaming at him, Fumikage was terrified.

You called the police while you tried to get Ryuji off of Fumikage, they ended up tasering him.

Fumikage slept in you bed for 2 months after that.

He said the nightmares would stop when he was with you.

You try your best to avoid that hallway now.

You eventually pull into your driveway, Fumikage goes inside first, you stay in the car for a moment.

You can’t protect Fumikage from everything, no matter how hard you try.

Walking into the house, you try to open Fumikages door to apologize to him, it’s locked.

So instead you go out to the balcony in your room, you’re able to see a lake peeking out from the trees.

And it’s quiet.

You like the quiet though.

Ryuji hated it so he always talked to fill up the space.

So now when it got quiet, you could faintly hear Ryuji talking about something that was never that important.

you hate the quiet now.

You can feel the tears falling down onto the dark wood below you, your curled into yourself on the lounge chair that’s outside

you haven’t really cried in awhile, never had the time.

you feel a weight sit next to you on the chair, you assume it’s Fumikage.

“F-Fumi, m’sorry baby- ma-“

“Fumi?” An energetic voices says playfully.

that’s not Fumikage…

You look up, only to see hawks…

“What’re you doing here…” you say hesitantly, confused on why the number three hero was here.

“I was on patrol..?”

“Why’re you here…?”

“I saw that my favorite nurse was upset!” He replies happily.

You nod and wipe your face.

“So, why’re you crying?” He cocks his head to the side with curiosity.

You sigh, “it’s nothing…”

“Clearly it isn’t.”

you rub your temples, “It’s just- everything’s been piling up.”

“Yea, I understand.” He rubs your back softly.

“M’sorry, you should go back to patrol-“

“No, the world doesn’t need me for a couple minutes, but you do.” He says with a carefree smile.

You sigh, trying to control you breathing so you don’t make even more of a fool out of yourself.

“You want a hug?” He opens his arms awkwardly, almost as if he’s never actually gave someone a genuine hug.

You open your arms as well, leaning into him and taking comfort in his warmth, he smells good too.

“Man, your wings are small…” he whispers softly.

“rude.” You scoff.

“N-not in a bad way! It’s uhm…cute!”

“Don’t say a woman is cute when she’s older than you.” You say while chuckling softly.

“What if I like older women?”

“I thought you were supposed to comfort me, not flirt.” You push yourself out of the warm hug.

“Sorry- second nature for me.” He stretches, his wing go with him, almost knocking over a plant.

“Your wings are too big…” you say in a retort to his earlier comment.

“I can make them smaller for you.”

“I bet mine are way softer.” You tease.

He laughs, “wanna bet?”

“No need too.”

You turn around, your back facing him, “go on and get a feel- might be your only time to.”

Hawks laughs and shakes his head, hesitantly he takes off his gloves and brushes his fingers through your wing span.

“You’re right, they’re soft..” he says softly.

“Told ya.”

“Mine are better though!” He says with a teasing tone.

You giggle softly, hawks has already made you forget a small bit about the days events.

“Y’know when I was younger, I thought if you touched a birds wings they’d get turned on.”

“Nah, not with mutant quirks usually” hawks says while putting back on his glove, “kids are always tugging on em so…I got used to it.”

“I used to let kids touch them if they were at the hospital for a while.” You stand up from the chair.

“Are you gonna touch mine?” Hawks says with a slight jitter in his movements.

You chuckle softly and pet his wings, “yknow, you’re much cooler on TV.”

You notice his wings puff up, “You watch me on TV?”

“Yea sometimes, very cool in my opinion.”

you can see his ears turn red, his wings twitch softly, and you hear a soft high pitched sound as well..? Almost similar to a bird chirping, weird.

“I’m glad you think that.”

Then it’s silent, you try to distract yourself with your thoughts but hawks continues to talk, reminds you of Ryuji.

“Was today your off day?” He asks curiously.

“Yea, ended up being a lot more stressful than they usual are.”

Maybe you could tell him the truth.

“I heard about the U.A. situation…is your son okay?”

“He’s fine, he had to fight apparently…I don’t want that for him.” you feel the tears coming back up.

“I understand that can be stressful for you.” He pats your back, his face still sporting a soft smile, it feels like he’s still in hero mode.

“Then in the car we fought- about his dad, about some of my…untasteful choices when he was younger.”

Your rambling, hawks probably doesn’t want to hear about this anyways.

“Untastful choices?” He chuckles.

“I used to date this guy when Fumikage was about 11, His name was Ryuji…he uhm.”

Hawks waits patiently for you to continue, he’s still smiling.

“He pinned him against the wall a-and he wouldn’t stop screaming.”

You can feel the tears going down your face.

“A-and i tried to get him off of Fumikage but he just threw me against the wall t-then he went back to him.”

Hawks isn’t smiling anymore.

“I-I had to call the cops and Fumikage just…wasn’t the same obviously, we wouldn’t sleep in his own bed, he became so quiet.”

Hawks is holding your forearms, his thumbs circle your skin in a smoothing manner.

why isn’t he smiling anymore?

“oh god- I’m a terrible mother.”

“Don’t say that.”

You fall into his chest and cry, what else could you do? you can’t change what Ryuji did to your son, your baby.

“Your amazing y/n, you…your a good mom I know you are.” He says quickly.

You don’t even know hawks real name, yet here you are crying to him about what you think is your own incompetence as a parent.

“I wish I knew how to make you feel better.” He says softly, he holds you.

“You should be on patrol..”

“My job is to help, and I want to help you.”

he holds you a little tighter, he smells good.

you can hear the soft static coming from his head gear, sounds like someone’s speaking.

You don’t want him to go yet.

“Mama?” You hear Fumikage call from your door way, luckily at this angle he can’t see you snug as a bug in a pros arms.

oh god- what are you doing??

You immediately jump out of hawks embrace, he looks incredibly confused by your sudden movements.

You look around quickly, Fumikage can’t see you like this, Not with some man!

You spot a weighted blanket, you got it for Fumikage when he was struggling to sleep without you- though he said it was too heavy and cold.

You immediately push hawks down into the chair and throw the blanket over him just in time for Fumikage to walk out into your balcony.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Fumikage says confused.

You sit down onto the lounge chair, mind you hawks is right under you being smothered by a blanket.

“J-just enjoying the view!”

The two of you just stare at each-other for a moment.

“So what did you need?”

Fumikage sighs and says something under his breath.

“Y’know I don’t have super hearing Fumikage.” You try to joke with him.

“I said that I was sorry..” he looks down at his feet, he looks ashamed.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, your already stressed enough from work and-“

“Fumi..”

“And you’re always trying your best all the time and-and I’m so sorry I wasn’t appreciative of that!” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, it breaks your heart.

“Fumi you don’t need to apologize…”

“But I do-“

“Shh, just come here okay?” You open up your arms.

Fumikage goes into your warm embrace, putting his weight onto you.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, we both made mistakes…I’ve made more than you though.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled-“

“I still love you Fumi…I love you so, so much- and I just want you to be safe, and happy, and I want you to be better than me.”

You ramble, Fumikage listens.

You and Fumikage never really understood eachother, sometimes it was like you were both ghosts haunting the same house.

But you tried so hard to understand eachother and the only thing you both understood is the love you had for the other.

Fumikage loved you so much, and Fumikage is the reason you’re still here in the world.

Fumikage sniffles, “mama..”

You rub his back, “what is it baby?”

“Why is this blanket so bulky…”

Ah yes, you totally forgot about hawks.

“I-I uhm, no reason…” you look away.

“Is someone under-“

“How about we go get something to eat?!” You quickly change the topic.

Fumikage stops his little investigation, and nods.

“Go on downstairs, I would like to change into some comfier clothes before we go out or eat!”

Fumikage smiles softly and pitter patters down stairs.

“Y’know, the blanket isn’t half bad” you hear hawks muffle out.

“Sorry…” you peel back the blanket to see a red faced hawks, most likely from the lack of air circulation under a thick weighted blanket.

“It’s fine, glad I got to hear you both make your amends” he shoots up a thumb.

“Well, have to go get some food..we haven’t had dinner yet.” You say sheepishly, tapping your fingers together.

“You wishing I could come, mama bird?” He teases.

“No, I’m telling you to leave and never come back, bird brain.” You say sarcastically.

Hawks chuckles, his laugh is nice.

Hawks is nice.

“You need to go back on patrol, I’ve kept you long enough…”

Hawks looks away for a moment, thinking.

“Can I keep the blanket?” He says almost too quickly.

“What?”

“...can I keep the blanket? You can say no!” He quickly adds the last part.

“No, no, Fumikage doesn’t use it so- go ahead!”

“I’ll see you soon?” He says hesitantly.

You smile, “Course..”

“I’ll see you then.” He takes off into the sky, weighted blanket in hand.

You quickly run down the stairs to meet up with Fumikage, only to find him waiting outside in the already cranked car.

You hop in, “where to?”

Fumikage continues to stare at the house.

“Fumi?” You say hesitantly

“Why did I just see the number three hero fly away from our house…”

Well shit, how are you supposed to explain this one to Fumikage.

On the other side of town, hawks is at his own perch patrolling whilst holding on tightly to the weighted blanket.

The only thing on his mind is that it smells like you.

And when his patrol finally ends he flies home, hawks never really had blankets on his bed, always too stuffy for his wings to be comfortable.

This blanket would probably be even more stuffy since it was heavy and thick but…

He still slept with it.

He would never tell anyone that he slept like a baby that night, and the night after that, and the night after that one.

Maybe his little interest in you is worse than he originally thought…

TAG LIST:

@lost-in-horrorland

#anime #hawks x reader #fanfics #bnha hawks #takami keigo #mha takami keigo #keigo x you #spotify #hawks x y/n #mha #takami keigo x reader #keigo x y/n #bhna x reader #mha hawks #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #hawks #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader

135 notes · View notes

buckrecs · 1 year

Note

You are literally doing god work thank you so much for this blog

I kinda have a request if that's okay. Can you please give us some Mob Bucky recs . Series or one shots

Thank you so much

Mob!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

Thank you so much:) Here are some Mob!Bucky fics!

* = contains smut

ONESHOT

Kiss it Better by @straywords

You’re not entirely sure your boss with the staring problem even likes you, but you’re determined to do your job either way.

little lilly. by @raysheart

you unknowingly bring out a side of bucky he never knew was there.

*Come Home. by @sinner-as-saint

Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you...

That I What? by @itsthewritergal

Y/N’s ex seems to have more of a hold on Y/N than Bucky realised.

Never Giving Up by @itsthewritergal

Reader is ill on the one day Bucky said no interruptions...

*the proposition of a lifetime by @tee-swizzle

mafia!bucky teaches his best friend how to please a man.

Put My Mind At Ease by @slyyywriting

You married the head of the mob in payment for your father’s debt. The contract includes that you must give whatever Bucky wants. And what Bucky wants is for you to be jealous.

protector by @vxntagedior

the moment bucky fell in love with you

Kerosene by @metalbuckaroo

“You took my heaven away and didn’t think that I wouldn’t go looking for revenge?”

Black Card by @jelsasnowflakes1

When Bucky finds out you finally used the card he gave you he was confused why you only spend 15 dollars with it.

third date rule by @classylo

you had a rule, the third date rule, you had never reached it so perhaps that’s why you were still a virgin...that is until you meet the infamous sweet mob boss.

I Am Your Fall by @sinner-as-saint

You’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because... he would find you and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you.

A Simple Housewife by @beyondspaceandstars

A new member starts getting too friendly with you one night, forcing Bucky to show a side of himself you’ve never seen before. And possibly never want to see again.

Could It Be Fate? by @bxcketbarnes

taken. by @wintersldr1

when you are captured by Bucky’s enemy, he will stop at nothing to get you back, and remind everyone the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.

a wolf in man’s clothing by @witchywithwhiskey

you walk into a bar owned by the Russian mob, and Bucky just has to swoop in to save you—and claim you.

Protector by @cherryrogers

Ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with.

*My Devotion by @cryptidcasanova

The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.

SERIES

A Business Deal by @ezm-imagines

Mafia Boss Bucky and Stark Reader agree on a deal to improve their businesses. A deal which will unite them together forever, whether they like it or not. Well, that is if they go through with the deal…

*A Moment of Your Time by @stevesbestgirl

A soulmate AU where the headstrong reader realizes that she’s meant to love the brutal mob boss of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes. She doesn’t want to be a part of organized crime and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone, but how do you ignore your soulmate?

*Deception by @avecra

Growing up in the dark business your father ran, violence wasn’t new to you. Rivalries and bloodbaths were something you unfortunately were used to. And in order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

Gunslinger by @ghostofskywalker

The bitter reality was this: you did what you had to do to survive. And if that meant going head to head with the most feared mob boss of the city, so be it.

*honey, there is no right way by @bonky-n-steeb

when you agree to be the feared mobster Bucky Barnes’ sugar baby, you expect to get enough money to pay your bills. what you don’t expect is to fall head over heels for him.

*Hostage Of Your Eyes by @sinner-as-saint

You accept an unusual offer made by a very familiar, but dangerous mob boss. And despite the rather bizarre situation and all the troubles which come along the way; old flames rekindle – and you find love again, where it wasn’t supposed to be.

Invisible String by @oitommothetease

James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

*Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight

Soft Mob Bucky Series

Missing by @buckyalpine

Bucky’s baby is missing and he will not stop until he finds her.

Run to Me by @sgtjbuccky

In where you’ve always had a habit of ending up in situations you shouldn’t, and when you caught the eye of the man who ran New York, Bucky Barnes, your life changed. They warned you about him, but the one thing they never warned you about was how you’d always want to run to him.

*Run To You by @bestofbucky

Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard.

The Light We Lost by @world-of-aus

James Buchanan Barnes had been it for you, and you wanted to believe that what the two of you had, was you making it. You wanted to be the other side of the statistics that actually made it, but your marriage wasn’t meant for this life. You fought hard to make your way back to him, to get him to see you, but life had a funny way of kicking you down when you were already down.

*wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck

never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.

The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

Icarus by @marvellous1917

it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x f!reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x innocent!reader #mafia!bucky

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strawberri-elixir · 5 months

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Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 9. Good shit

Warnings: just yuta being in denial again?? (no surprise tho)

note: THERE’S WRITING AFTER THE FIRST 10 IMAGES you don’t wanna miss it :] also thank you for all the support?! i never thought there would be many people who would want to read this series. but i’m thankful for all of you <3

“Alright. So how about we all split up into pairs while we go around the mall?” Nobara took a sip of her drink as you all began leaving the food court.

“That would probably be easier.” Yuta nodded.

“But there’s seven of us.” You added.

“You guys will just have to be in a group of three.” Maki slung her arm over Nobara’s shoulder, giving a sly grin to the black haired boy.

“I don’t think-” Yuta tried to protest.

“Perfect! Inumaki, you’ll come with us!” You interjected, taking a hold of the boy’s hand.

Maki watched with an amused look as Yuta glared at her. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but it’s not like he could do anything about it.

“Let’s go then!” You began dragging the two boys away.

The three of you then began strolling through the mall, pointing at windows and looking inside the stores. You did most of the dragging, pulling Yuta and Inumaki into whatever store caught your eye.

“Look at this!” You smack Yuta’s arm to get his attention. The three of you were currently stationed at the front counter of an antique shop, looking at all the various trinkets that were displayed behind the glass barrier.

In this case, you were focused in on a simple silver ring. The obviously well-loved wedding band sat in a velvet box, practically begging for attention. You couldn’t help but stare at it.

Small engravings ran through the material, creating intricate designs across the entire surface. A truly beautiful piece of jewelry. It almost drew you in, in some way. Like a magnet.

“I’m almost scared to ask how much that is.” Yuta chuckled.

“It can’t be as bad as you think.” You smile. “How much is this ring?” You ask the old lady behind the counter, pointing at the silver ring.

“That one? It’s 50 dollars. But for a young one like yourself, I’ll let you have it for 40.” She smiled.

As much as you appreciated the kindness, you politely declined. Not because you felt bad, but because you simply couldn’t afford it. It was times like this when you really wished you had a job.

“I can pay for it.” Yuta offered.

“No way! I’d actually feel bad if you payed for this. 40 bucks is a lot even for you!” You immediately shut him down.

It’s true, 40 dollars is a lot for broke high school students, even if they have jobs. You couldn’t allow Yuta to spend that kind of money on you.

“You sure? You’ve been eyeing that ring for a solid 15 minutes while we looked around the store.”

“Positive.” You gave the ring one more glance before forcing yourself to leave the store. “Let’s go. Any more staring and I’ll regret not having enough money.”

“Alright, I just want to look at some of those old journals before we go, just wait outside for me.” Yuta shooed you away.

You roll your eyes with a smile, turning your attention to Inumaki as the two of you walked out. “I bet he’s gonna take a long time.”

The two of you found a bench to wait for Yuta, sitting down side by side, the two of you sat in silence. It wasn’t long before Inumaki pulled out his phone, swiping to a game and started playing.

“What are you playing?” You lean over and watch the boy tap away on his screen. He angled his phone to you, displaying a familiar game layout. “Oh! You play Genshin?”

The boy gives you a simple not. It was obvious he wasn’t much of a talker, but that didn’t bother you.

“That’s cool. I don’t really play but I really like watching this one streamer play.” You started going on about the game. “If I’m annoying you, just tell me, okay?”

“You’re not bothering me. Keep going.” He mumbled.

It was the first time you ever heard him actually speak to you. His voice was low, lower than Yuta’s at least. A little husky from the lack of use. But soft at the same time.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was like the next step in your already growing friendship. You continued to watch the boy play, leaning on his shoulder as time went on.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— even though she’s all for the chaos, maki does genuinely want yuta to be happy and confess his feelings

— inumaki has his phone always on do not disturb because of the amount of notifications he gets

— the original monster energy drink is yuta’s favourite because he rarely drinks them (you try to get him to try different flavours but he just doesn’t like them)

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082

Bold means I for some reason can’t tag you! I don’t know why :[

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edelblau · 1 month

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hi! i'm not sure how this will go but im gonna try doing a sketch 'sale'(?)

what this means: for 15 canadian dollars (each) i will do a simple sketch of a character or subject of your choosing. you can either ask for my regular style or a little chibi style (both pictured in this promotional image). if you buy two, you get one free! what value!

i wasn't sure how to best set this up via the ko-fi commission section, so instead please just use the normal donation box and leave your request in the box! (example pictured below)

all requests done this way will be uploaded when finished to ko-fi and my social media (here and my art twitter), so you don't need a ko-fi account (though you can certainly include your social medias in the request so i can mention you!)

please consider checking it out or just sharing to spread the word! thank you!

#artists on tumblr #promote please. please #pretty please

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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months

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Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 15

Happy WIP Wednesday! (Ignores the fact that it's almost an hour into Thursday my time.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

“Shit. Okay. I’ll fly us back. Bye Tim, everyone!” Danny picked up Tucker and flew away, turning invisible before he was more than a few yards away.

Tim sighed as he watched them. “Invisibility would be such a useful power. Paired with intangibility? Do you have any idea how much that’d help us out in Gotham?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Cassie dismissively. “So what’re we doing for the next few hours?”

Wulf cocked his head and looked at them. Tim waved to him. “Let’s see what we can find out from our maybe-friend here.” Then, to Wulf, he asked, “Walker?”

Wulf’s bemused expression turned angry and he snarled.

Tim laughed and gave a thumbs up to show his agreement. “I’ve”—he pointed at himself—“heard”—this time his ears—“bad”—he scowled—“things about Walker.”

“Malbono,” said Wulf.

Tim grinned. “Very malbono,” he agreed.

Wulf bared his teeth, but this time, Tim thought it was more of a grin.

Cassie sat down on the ground. “So, Wulf and Danny are both targeted by this Walker ghost. How do we keep them safe?”

Tim shrugged. To Wulf, he said, “We”—pointing to him and his friends—“keep you”— pointing to Wulf—“safe. Secure. Protect.” Hopefully at least one of those words would be similar enough to the Esperanto word for the same concept.

“Protekti,” agreed Wulf.

Bart pointed at himself. “One.” Then to Conner, “Two.” Tim was called three and Cassie four. With a stick, he drew a crude figure of Danny’s ghost form, Sam, and Tucker, counting each one to seven. Then he pointed to Wulf. “Eight.” He drew the number in the dirt to reinforce the count. “Walker, how many?” He lifted his hands in an I-don’t-know gesture.

Wulf started with his hands close and slowly spread them wide. “Multaj.”

Tim’s stomach sank at the answer. They’d faced bad odds before, but it was never good.

“What does Walker want?” asked Conner.

But Wulf only looked at him in confusion and none of them could figure out how to ask that in charades.

Cassie grabbed another stick and began drawing. She started with a line and on one side, she had humanoid ghosts with tails instead of legs, on the other side she had stick figures. Then she drew arrows from the ghost side to the human side. Under the arrows, she drew question marks. Looking up, she asked, “How?”

Wulf bared his teeth again and pointed at himself. “Wulf.” He flexed his hand showing off his claws. Conner tensed at the action, but Wulf ignored him. Instead, he drew his hand down the air. Tim felt like he could hear tearing, but it was as if the sound originated in his brain, bypassing his ears entirely.

In the path of Wulf’s claws was a glowing green portal. Another gesture and it disappeared.

Tim stared in wonder. “So, if you’re here and with us, Walker can’t send any more ghosts to Amity. That makes things so much easier.”

Wulf only grinned at him.

Bart poked Tim’s side. “Think he needs to eat?”

Tim laughed. “You’re just hungry yourself. He’s already dead.”

Bart shrugged. “We haven’t had lunch yet.”

“I’m with Bart,” said Cassie. “I’m getting hungry. And it’d be rude to not offer anything to him. Bart, get us stuff from that burger place Danny took us to. And grab extra in case our new friend wants anything.”

Tim rummaged around in his bag and pulled out two hundred dollars cash. All three of his friends had metabolisms to match their powers. “Here, get as much as you want. Simple cheeseburger and fries for me.”

The others gave their orders and Bart was off.

The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly hanging out in the woods with Wulf. When Bart had offered him a burger, he’d sniffed it before pulling a face and giving it back. Bart just shrugged and ate it himself.

“Shouldn’t you be doing homework?” Conner asked Tim after a while. They’d run through most of the questions they could ask via pantomime and Bart and Cassie had taken to pointing at things and asking what they were called in Esperanto. “Bruce won’t be happy with you.”

Tim sighed. “No, you’re right. If we can’t research in the library, I should do something productive.”

Though it only took an hour and a half of going through his schoolwork for Tim to want to tear his own hair out. He slammed his book shut, making four pairs of eyes instantly fly to him.

“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t wait until I don’t need to be in school anymore. Who wants to spar with me?”

Conner stepped forward. “I’ll take the first round.”

“Great. I’m going to use the staff Danny gave me. I want to practice with it more.”

Wulf watched them as they sparred. Tim held his own against Conner, though ultimately the half-Kryptonian won. Cassie beat him next.

Bart sat the spars out because he won every time if allowed to fight. But he made a very good referee.

Tim and Cassie were having their third match of the day when Danny, Sam, and Tucker rejoined them.

Tim was breathing hard as he blocked another blow from Cassie with his staff. “Hey, Danny,” he said. Then he did a twist he’d learned from Dick coupled with a move he’d learned from Lady Shiva and Cassie was flat on her back. Tim grinned as he offered her a hand to help her up. “Looks like I win the last match of the day.”

“Well I won our two previous ones,” retorted Cassie as she took his hand.

Sam let out a whistle. “Damn, that was impressive. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“B sent me to Europe for several months to train from a bunch of different masters when I forced him to take me on.”

“Must’ve been good teachers if you can hold your own as a regular human against metas.”

Tim nodded and moved so he could nudge Danny. “I’ve been trying to convince this one to join me for a few weekends so I could get him some training, but he’d rather rely on luck and his powers.”

Danny rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You know that’s not what it is. I’m just afraid that if I leave any more often than I have to, something will happen!”

“Sure, sure,” said Tim. “But now that your parents know me and I can see just how bad it is, I’ll be coming to you to train you. No getting out of it now!”

Danny just groaned.

Tucker grinned. “Let me know when you come, and I’ll fit your training sessions into Danny’s schedule.”

“Absolutely.”

Sam pointed her thumb at Wulf. “So, how’re we gonna sneak a giant ghost through town and into my house anyway?”

Danny shrugged. “I figured he and I could fly there invisibly. I’ll drop my invisibility and enter through the door so your parents or grandma see me enter, and Wulf will drop it once we’re in private.”

“Fine, fine. Come on, then.”

-----

In the show, there was a time skip between when Danny caught up with Wulf during his school lunch period and the four (Danny, Sam, Tucker, Wulf) all cramming into Tucker's bedroom that night. So I have no idea if Danny returned to school or not. And if he did, what did Wulf do all afternoon and evening? How did they meet up again? Or am I right and Danny skipped?

Good thing we have other people here to help out this time and it doesn't matter!

I no longer do tag lists for this fic, but please checkout the Subscription Post if you want notifications when this updates.

#dpxdc #tim drake #wulf (dp)#cassie sandsmark #conner kent #bart allen #they're just chilling #playing charades #and trying to learn a new language #tim attempts some homework #he hates it more than danny #danny would be fine with school work if he didn't have ghost shenanigans to deal with #(my headcanon at least)#but tim will drop out as soon as he can

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laurrrelise · 3 months

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mike schmidt headcanons

i’ve never posted before but i’m a huge jhutch fan and i had fun writing these :)

mike is absolutely a cat person. the only reason they don’t have a cat is because he was too embarrassed to look “un-manly” and buy one himself. he found one outside at one point, and kept trying to get abby to want to take it in and keep it, but she didn’t really want a pet to have to take care of so mike just let it go. mike leaves leftover food outside for it when he remembers, and stops and spends time with it when it’s lingering outside his porch.

he likes to surprise abby with new toys, even if he doesn’t have the extra money for it. her favorites are dragon action figures and stuffed animals (polar opposites ??) and he finds cool smaller ones at the dollar store. she can tell the difference, but pretends not to notice to make mike feel proud of himself. she also likes them, anyways.

mike drinks a lot of water. he drinks almost nothing but water. he very rarely drinks alcohol because he was invited to a high school party at one point, got super drunk, then jumped on a pool table and tried to do a backflip. he broke his leg and was humiliated, and vowed that he’d never drink again. (not completely true, because he goes for a beer once in a blue moon, but it’s so rare that it barely counts.)

him and abby have a 15 year age difference, but she takes care of him just as much as he takes care of her. when he’s super tired after work, she reminds him to brush his teeth before he goes to bed. she brings him a blanket when he falls asleep on the couch. she grabs his keys when he leaves them on the dining table, the kitchen counter, his nightstand, or her dresser, and puts them on the coat hooks so he’ll never lose them. she picks up on when he’s having really really hard days, and even though it’s hard for her, she eats for him.

(i’ve realized this one really isn’t canon, but i don’t care, it’s cute and i want it) mike has curly hair. abby doesn’t. neither does their mom, or their dad, or their little brother, garrett. (he’s older than abby, but shut up and let me have this) abby is jealous of mike’s curls. so, reluctantly, mike taught himself how to curl hair. he found a cheap curling iron at the convenience store down the street from their house and practiced on himself, burning his hands like crazy, and hiding it from abby. the first time he successfully curled her hair, she gave him the biggest hug and ate her entire dinner without having to be begged.

mike loves cleaning. he hates waking up early, but he doesn’t mind when he gets to turn on his music and spend an entire morning cleaning the house. he also really loves his music. he loves divorced dad rock. nickel back, green day, smash mouth, the black keys, etc. he loves putting a cd (he burned some illegally, abby helped him) into his boombox and blasting it at 7 a.m. he’ll walk into abby’s room, nodding to the music and singing along confidently, waking her up and laughing with her when she makes fun of him. but, still, she helps him clean.

abby is really good in school. she has to be, because mike is a bit of a bumbling idiot when it comes to math and english etiquette. the last time she asked him for help on her homework, even though it was just simple multiplication, mike ended up staring at the page for ten minutes before calling his neighbor to ask if she could help because he was “busy”. (he was bored out of his mind, but he couldn’t figure out what 36x5 was, and was too embarrassed to admit it.)

mike loves sweets, but he prefers his coffee bitter. he has a chocolate stash that he keeps on top of the kitchen cabinets for when abby is really good. he also has it because chocolate is his #1 craving when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

mike loves when abby draws him. sometimes, he’ll find her looking at him while she’s coloring, and he’ll hold the pose for as long as he possibly can to be a useful reference to her. he will never criticize her art. drawing is abby’s comfort place, so even when he’s so upset with her that he could rip his own hair out, he would never even think to insult her artwork.

mike despises shopping. in fact, he despises spending money, which is mostly due to the fact that after his mom died and dad left, he’s never had much of it. and he hates the fact that he has to give so much of it back to a government that hates him. so, to make up for it, he prefers thrift stores. not goodwill, essentially a corporate office that helps no one but it’s filthy rich CEO, but small, local thrift stores. the kind that are always filled with volunteers, whose profits exclusively go to keeping the shop running and a small cause, like dental care for youth in Guatemala or starving kittens who would be put down without proper funds to keep them alive. he likes knowing that his money is going to a good cause, even if he hates handing it over.

mike does, however, love picking out the clothes. he scours through the kids’ section for the brightest pairs of overalls, t-shirts, cardigans, skirts, and sneakers. he loves the look on abby’s face when he finds her a pretty sundress, because the smile that so rarely appears is filled with such innocent bliss. for himself, however, he moves as quickly as possible. he pretty much exclusively wears old hoodies, sweaters, jeans, and work boots. as long as it’s comfortable and in a size medium, it works for him.

that’s all for now but i love thinking about this man so i’ll probably end up writing more eventually 🤷‍♀️ who knows

anyways have a good day <3

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt smut #jhutch #fnaf #fnaf movie #headcanons #josh hutcherson #im losing my mind i love mike so much #abby schmidt #he and abby have the cutest relationship

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

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Samuel Seo x Reader: Morning Routine

Sammy looks after you in the morning

Samuel is very particular about his morning schedule. He typically starts his day like this:

5:00 am - workout in his home gym

6:15 am - shower and grooming routine

6:45 am - get ready and dressed

7:00 am - coffee and a simple nutritious breakfast

7:30 am - leave for work

You start your day by rolling out of your bed too late, frantically running around trying to get ready, and rushing out the door.

The first time Samuel observes that, after living together and having an unexpectedly slow morning, his lips thinned at your terrible disorganisation.

His routine changes. Just slightly.

One cup of coffee becomes two. One simple nutritious breakfast becomes two.

"Morning."

A hand reaches out to stroke your hair.

Still one foot in dreamland, you blearily open your eyes, and see Samuel crouched down eye-level next to your bedside. You may have been having a nice dream, but damn, this view and the reality is much better.

Barely even registering his hand on you, your body as if on autopilot nuzzles into it anyway, intuitively knowing that comfort anywhere.

This routine, a constant yet never old. Almost everyday, the exact same pressure to brush your hair back to rouse you, the heat of his fingers, the callouses. The little huff of amusement as you nudge his hand with your nose, half asleep but still wanting to be close to him, so he can cup your face and run his thumb over your cheek.

"Coffee and breakfast on your bedside table," Samuel says, kissing you on the forehead and standing up.

He looks immaculate, as always. Far too awake for this time in the morning. Hair precisely groomed, not a wrinkle to be seen with his suit. Smelling expensive and intense and dark, scent matching well with the person.

"What time is it?"

"Time for you to wake up, Y/N."

"Nooo, Sammy-" and you snuggle into his hand again.

"I told you you don't have to work. I can look after you."

"I know."

And true, you don't have to. But you like the work you do. The small little contributions you make. Being self-sufficent, to an extent.

Another day, another dollar it is.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you relinquish your hold on your boyfriend, sitting up and sip your coffee. The first hit of caffeine to kick start your day.

It's adorable, really, and more than your heart can bear most mornings - the fact that Samuel prepares this for you and added your wellbeing into his own routine too.

Once you finish your coffee, and satisfied that there's little chance you're going to fall back asleep, Samuel says goodbye with a final kiss on the lips.

"See you tonight, Y/N."

It's the same routine almost everyday, yet neither of you tire of it.

#the best sort of behaviour #just quietly looking after you #its canon in my head ok #why do i like writing about mornings with sammy huh #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo #seo seongeun #seo seongeun x reader #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #wannaeatramyeon

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 5 months

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Anytime (bangchan)

"HEARTS ON FIRE TONIGHT FEEL MY BOOONES IGNITE LOVE FEELS LIKE WAAR WAAR FEELS LIKE WAAAR WAA-". You abruptly stop your tone deaf singing over old all time low songs and gasp when your car suddenly starts slowing down by itself, all the little warning lights on your dashboard turn on simultaneously and a screeching sound starts blaring out of nowhere.

You act in no time. Slamming your foot hard on the break you turn on your right blinker and veer your vehicle on the side of the desolated road by using pure engine inertia until the car just shuts down on its own, leaving you in a stunned silence, bleary eyed and slightly panicky as to whatever the fuck just happened.

You look in your rear view mirror and make sure the road is actually empty and thank whatever god up there for allowing you to pull to the side relatively safely, considering you could have just caused a mass chain rear end collision if it wasn't for your fast instincts. And just the general desolation of this side road you always drive down on your way back home from work when avoiding the worst of traffic is your main priority. Except that it is quite a dark, scarcely illuminated, less than safe road. And you are alone. And your car has most definitely just broken down. And it's almost 9pm on a winter night. Crap.

You swallow down that slimy, unsettling felling creeping up in your throat and try to revive the engine a few more times to no avail. OK. It's fine. It's going to be fine. I'm definitely not just stranded here in the middle of nowhere am I? You talk to yourself out loud, desperately trying to keep your sanity as you finally decide to fish your phone out of your bag and dial up the emergency tow truck number. After a couple rings a dispatcher picks up and you try your best to remain calm and explain the situation you are in as thoroughly as you can: "right, an operator is on its way but it might take up to an hour and half m'am, we suggest you keep safe and display the emergency triangle tripod roadside while you wait".

Once the dispatcher hangs up you sigh in frustration, "now what", you mumble, a shiver already trailing down your back from both the cold and the slight panic threatening to build up in your belly. You do as instructed and then quickly get back in your car, now fully shivering from the cold: how the hell am I gonna wait here in the cold for an hour and not freeze or get robbed in the mean time? Acting merely on impulse you unlock your phone once again and click on the emergency contact icon, silently praying Chan is not currently wearing his thousands dollars noise cancelling headphones in the studio.

"Hello? Y/n what's up?". You exhale loudly, a little silver of hope twinkling in the progressively darker night, "hey Channie… Sorry to call you at this hour…", Chan giggles on the other end of the line and you can almost imagine the way his eyes are crinkling and his dimples are showing, "I've literally just started working, not even 30 minutes ago. I'm a night owl you know", "hahaha yeah… So I uh… I'm kinda stranded on the side of the road? I'm like.. I think I'm like a little under 15 miles away from home but my car broke down… And the emergency truck won't be here for another hour or so", "WHAT? oh my god are you okay?".

You can basically hear Chan springing to his feet so fast his spinning chair rolls away from beneath him, the concern and slight alarm in his voice something you rarely get to hear from him. Chan is and has always been your rock. Through heaven and high water, you knew you could rely on him ever since second grade when one day you had forgotten your lunch box at home and found yourself sitting alone in the school canteen, your stomach grumbling as you watched all the kids eating their meals so enthusiastically, and this little boy with short dark hair and the cutest dimples stepped away from his friends table and offered you half of his sandwich and half of his apple.

That simple, kind gesture had become the start of your almost 2 decade long friendship, he went from always stuffing his lunchbox with extra food for you just in case you forgot again to holding your hand in the ER at 15 when you had the most painful appendicitis to helping you move in into your first big girl apartment, carrying all the heavy boxes for you without you even asking, him being the true gentleman he was. No wonder you loved him to pieces.

"I'm okay, just a little cold", you mumble, trying to mask the uncertainty and panic in your voice, "I'll be right there. Please send me your location. And lock yourself inside. Is the engine totally dead? Can you turn on the radio without starting the ignition?", Chan asks, his voice now more even and calm, his natural care taker mode activating instantly once he assessed the situation.

You try to turn on the radio as he suggested, and to your surprise, it works just fine judging by the sudden blasting of guitar riffs on the very same Love Like War track you were listening to earlier, you flinch at the volume that seems ridiculously too loud now that your basically parked and alone in the dead of the road, and press your button down to lower it a bit.

"Yeah the radio is working fine", "okay, great. Keep it on until I get there, and turn on your mainlights and all four of your blinkers as well". Once again, you do as you're told, you quickly send him your geolocalisation and double check all the lights are still fully functioning while you hear Chan scrambling to grab his keys and jacket and heading out the door, "done. I'm twinkling like a Christmas tree right now", you joke half heartedly, your breath starting to condense from the cold when you speak, "great, santa is coming!", he giggles and the pauses, "do you want me to stay on the line with you?", he asks more seriously, and something pleasant, unexpectedly warm settles in your heart and you smile to yourself, "it's okay. I don't want to risk distracting you while you drive. I'll be here, listening to my emo playlist, you drive safely please", "that's a good idea. It's going to be alright ye? Just hang in there".

You think 15 minutes cannot last an eternity. But that's exactly how long it feels like you've been freezing in the cold for until you see Chan's car pull up. As soon as you see him turning off his headlights you leap out of your car and fly into his open wide arms, instantly crashing into his chest as he lifts you off the ground, hands already vigorously rubbing your back, trying to warm you up:"I don't think I've ever been so relieved, I'm so happy to see you oh my god", you chuckle, your teeth chattering as Chan envelopes you into his arms, even unzipping his jacket and pulling it over your arms to warm you up, and you have to admit…. His jacket smells divine. He smells divine. Signature vanilla and musk and… Manly.

It's inexplicable but Chan has been smelling the same, musky but sweet, fresh, manly scent ever since he was like 19 or so. "Likewise, I'm so happy you're safe", he giggles, patting your hair, "now get in my car and warm yourself up a bit, I turned up the ac and left an extra jacket on the passanger seat for you". There it is. Again. That fuzzy, warm feeling in your heart that makes your cheeks flash red for no reason. "What about you? Are you not going to wait in there for the tow truck with me?", you ask confusedly and he giggles, his deep dimples on full show as he squeaks, "of course I am, I just want to check your car real quick. Maybe push it slightly to the very edge of the road some more so it'll be out of the way should cars drive down here".

You let Chan do his thing and quickly get in his car, just eager to warm yourself up, to finally feel like you have hands again. The night feels so cold your fingers had slowly started to become numb from the low temperatures. Once you're wrapped up in your best friend's spare jacket and huddled close to the air vent, you take a deep breath and stretch out your hands, allowing yourself to relax and soak up the relief running through your veins.

Chan had this power, this ability to make everything feel fine again. You had know him basically your whole life and could recall each and every time he managed to make everything better, each and every time he was there for you, reliable and strong and supportive like no one else you had ever met.

"Ffuck it's cold!". As soon as Chan climbs back in the car he lurches for the air vent, turning up the warm air setting to the maximum and you giggle at his poor state, offering your arms the same way he did for you just a few minutes ago, "aww thank you, sweetheart", he says over your shoulder, thick aussie accent and giggles and all as he squeezes you, a thin layer of sweat from the exertion of having to manually push your car to the side, his still persistent, scent travelling up your nostrils.

You swallow down whatever stupid funny feeling in your throat and sigh happily, "thank YOU for rescuing me, as per usual", you confess, suddenly not feeling like letting go of him just yet, kind of enjoying the way his back muscles feel underneath your palms, the way his arms are tight around you, cocconing you. Chan giggles again and pats your back, his chin digging into your shoulder, his little silver hoop earring getting stuck in your hair, "anytime",he replies and you can tell he's about to pull away from you but something tugs at your insides and before he can even move you're clamping down his back, stretching yourself out of the passanger seat just so you can reach out even more to him and hug him even titghter, "not yet, please don't let go just yet", you murmur.

You're not entirely sure if it's just the adrenaline dying down or the fact that you had tried to power through all your fear and freezing bones and now yuur body just physically needed to be held but you hold on onto him for just a little longer. He goes quiet. He silently pushes back his seat away from the steering wheel and hoists your body up until you're sitting in his lap, your chest firmly pressed into his, his cheek pressed onto the side of your face as he rubs his hands up and down your back.

You smile to yourself at the feeling of being this close to him, this comforted, the warm hair hitting your back, the quiet stillness of this moment that feels slightly surreal. "You are safe now, you know that right? I've got you, nothing bad's gonna happen", Chan speaks softly and you nod, now finally letting go of him while still sitting in his lap, his hands resting tentatively on your hips until you place your own on top of his, silently reassuring him it's okay for him to keep them there: "not a single day goes by where I don't feel safe with you, Chris. You... You are my safe place". You smile at him. A very assured smile too.

You don't even know where all this confidence came out from but you feel calm. Unusually calm and confident and secure, as if you're wrapped up in a warm blanket that'll shield you from all harm. "Really? I'm your safe place?", the young, beautiful man looks at you incredulously, his lips twitching into the biggest grin, and you nod sincerely, "yeah. I figured it's high time I let you know. Though I do fear sometimes you're way too mature for your age and you probably feel like you carry enough of a burden on your shoulders and me adding more responsability on that really isn't ideal but - I mean - like... Yeah like-".

You feel your cheeks heat up and your tongue twisting on its self but you keep at it, you screw your eyes shut and purse your lips together, recollecting your thoughts more coherently before continuing,"what I meant to say is: I'm so grateful for you. You make me feel safe. And secure. Always. And I wish I had told you this sooner but more times than not I think you're already so preoccupied with being this awesome leader and role model and just overall wholesome guy that-that you don't need someone else to take care of and add to the pile of things and people that have put you in this spot. I wish you could be your age and act your age freely, enjoying being young and successful and not just having to always be a fort for everyone".

You catch yourself panting a little from your whole speech and when you finally open your eyes again you find Chan smiling warmly, gazing at you with the gentlest look in his eyes, looking at you as if he's mentally hugging you like he always does with anyone and you just never noticed he did with you too.

He sighs contently and wraps his hands around your fingers, bringing your knuckles up to his chin, stopping just short of his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you, "thank you, y/n. I'm not-I'm not great with taking compliments but...you... I really appreciate every single thing you just mentioned. More than you could ever know. But please don't worry about me, I chose this, I enjoy it. You're never going to be a burden, never going to add to any pile",he pauses, taking a slightly deeper breath before continuing, "you're actually that one thing that makes my heart feel very light, very airy".

You let your fingers slip out of his gentle grip and cup his face, your body moving faster than your mind, your actions preceding your own thoughts as you lean closer and kiss him in the spur and of the moment. His hands immediately flying to your hips, pulling your body closer to his as he enthusiastically kisses you back. And God does it feel good. Does it feel right. Just so right. Unexpectedly but so inevitably right.

"Sorry,mmh I'm sorry", Chan mumbles, his lips still attached to yours as he tries to contain his giggles, "what are you sorry for?", you ask, breathless, and he circles your waist with his arms, resting his forehead against yours, "I should've asked. I definitely should have asked if it was okay to kiss you".

You burst into the happiest giggles and tilt your head back, "Christopher I kissed you. I should have asked. If anyone should be sorry it's me", you admit sincerely but he shakes his head, "I kissed you back. Straight away", "yeah! please do it more", you reply boldly which makes him giggle and giggle and squeak out of pure joy, "does this mean I can ask you out sometimes? And have more kisses?", he teases and you play with the collar of his shirt, pulling at it so he has to speak one inch away from your face, less than an inch away from your lips, "anytime. Any day of the week. Any time of the day or the night", you reply eagerly and this time around he cups your face and pulls you to him, kissing you so sweetly yet so passionately you momentarily forget you're both still in his car, all lights on, alone in the dead of the night until you feel something tapping impatiently on the driver side window: "uhm sorry to interrupt .... This is Ted. Emergency tow truck service, did you guys call?".

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