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[desertcart-in]

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[klaycartstore]

Selecting the perfect Caffeine Shampoo for your hair can be a game-changer if you're looking to boost hair growth and strengthen your locks. In this blog post, we'll guide you through the key factors to consider when choosing the right caffeine shampoo for your hair care routine.

[pucksandpower]

Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

[angelicgirlmj]

a gilmores girl daily routine:

hi angels! with september drawing to a close i cant stop rewatching gilmore girls - such a cozy show i wish i lived in stars hollow! here is a little daily routine inspired by Rory Gilmore and the aesthetics of Gilmore girls.

AM ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

wake up at 6:30am.

pick out outfit and book for day.

have a shower, using vanilla or autumnal scented body washes etc.

dress and pack bag for school/academia.

have a cosy breakfast such as oatmeal, french toast or pancakes alongside a coffee (or a chai tea if you dont love caffeine!).

clean teeth, do skincare and light makeup.

style hair - add a cute headband or pin the sides like Rory often does.

journal, light a candle and read over notes or any relevant material for your classes.

go to school/whatever academic institute you attend.

PM ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

go to a cute coffee shop and study with a friend!

head home.

change, put on a cute jumper.

finish off any work or homework left.

make dinner, such as a comforting soup with sourdough toast or a salmon, broccoli and rice bowl.

have a warm, comforting bath, try using a bath bomb or cute autumn themed product such as a body scrub.

have a cup of tea and read a book for a little bit.

watch a favourite show under some blankets and get cozy!

brush teeth and do skincare before bed.

do five minutes of journalling.

do some light stretching and yoga before bed!

head to bed and get a nice early night.

ADDITIONAL ACTIVITIES ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

bake a cute autumnal treat, such as pumpkin loaf or apple pie muffins.

take cute photos.

visit a library or book shop.

go on a walk round a local park or green space!

paint your nails.

try writing an article or blog post - like you would if you were a journalist.

have a film night with a family member or friend!

organise your book shelf/book collection.

update your planner and get ready for the week ahead!

plan an outfit for tomorrow.

thank you for reading angels! i hope you have a cozy and cute gilmore girls autumn. remember this list is only ‘inspired’, feel free to adapt it and make it your own and comment and tell me what you would add! love, m.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. New video for the Merc team and they rope the couple to answer questions in This or That. Which seems to be an instant hit among the internet. Feat their son, Jack. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

Unscripted Moments

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader, feat. Jack

Word count: 1.4k

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The sun was bright over Brackley as the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzed with activity. It was a special day—media day, where the team filmed content for their social media channels and sponsors. Among the lineup of activities, one stood out as a highlight: a “This or That” video featuring the Team Principal, Toto Wolff, and his wife, Y/n. To add an extra dose of charm, their young son, Jack, would join them.

The idea had been floated around for weeks. Fans adored Toto’s serious, calculated demeanor in the paddock, but whenever he appeared with Y/n and Jack, a different side of him came to life—one full of warmth, humor, and a little bit of mischief. The media team knew this would be gold, a perfect blend of light-hearted fun and family love that would resonate deeply with fans around the world.

As the day began, Y/n and Jack arrived at the headquarters, warmly greeted by the staff. Y/n was no stranger to the world of Formula 1; she had stood by Toto’s side through every victory and defeat, offering her unwavering support. Today, however, was different. It wasn’t just about the cars, the team, or the strategy. It was about their family.

Jack, bouncing with excitement, held onto Y/n’s hand as they made their way to the set. The production crew had transformed one of the spacious lounges into a cozy, living room-like setting. There were plush sofas, soft throw pillows, and a few framed photos of the Mercedes cars in action, giving the room a personal touch.

Toto, already on set, was talking to the director when Y/n and Jack walked in. His face lit up at the sight of them. “There’s my little man!” he exclaimed, scooping Jack up in his arms. Jack giggled, his tiny arms wrapping around his father’s neck.

Y/n watched them with a smile, her heart swelling with love. Toto was always busy, always on the go, but when it came to his family, he made sure they knew they were his top priority.

“Ready for this?” Toto asked, his voice light, but with an undercurrent of playfulness. He leaned in to kiss Y/n softly, his free hand resting on the small of her back.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/n replied with a grin, adjusting the collar of Toto’s shirt before smoothing down Jack’s hair. “Jack’s been practicing his answers all morning.”

Jack beamed proudly. “I’m going to say ‘Airplane!’ every time,” he declared, which made both his parents laugh.

The director clapped his hands together, signaling the start of the shoot. “Alright, everyone, let’s get started. Y/n, Toto, Jack—you’re the stars today.”

The family settled into their seats, with Toto in the middle, Y/n on his right, and Jack perched comfortably on his lap. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the easy, loving dynamic between them. Toto’s arm rested casually behind Y/n, his hand occasionally brushing against her shoulder, while Jack fiddled with the buttons on Toto’s shirt, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Okay, first question,” the producer said, his voice lively. “Coffee or Tea?”

Y/n didn’t hesitate. “Tea, definitely.”

Toto shot her a mock-surprised look. “Tea? Really? I’ve been making you coffee every morning for years, and now you tell me you prefer tea?”

Y/n laughed, nudging him playfully. “You make it so well, I couldn’t break your heart by saying anything.”

Toto chuckled, shaking his head. “And all this time I thought I was being the perfect husband.”

“You are,” Y/n reassured him, leaning into his side. “Just with slightly misguided caffeine choices.”

The camera caught every bit of the banter, from Toto’s faux shock to Y/n’s playful smile. Jack, sensing the mood, contributed his own answer with a loud “Juice!” which earned a burst of laughter from everyone on set.

“Juice is a valid choice,” Toto said, ruffling his son’s hair affectionately. “But only when Mum’s not looking.”

“Excuse me?” Y/n raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing. “Are you encouraging our son to sneak juice?”

Toto’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Only in emergencies,” he quipped, which caused Y/n to roll her eyes in mock exasperation.

The questions kept coming, and so did the laughs. “Mountains or Beach?” was next, and Y/n immediately answered, “Beach. There’s nothing like the sound of waves and the feeling of sand between your toes.”

Toto nodded thoughtfully. “True, but the mountains have their own charm. The peace, the quiet... Perfect for a getaway.”

“Perfect for escaping emails and phone calls, you mean,” Y/n teased.

“Exactly,” Toto admitted with a grin. “But honestly, I’d go anywhere as long as it’s with you two.”

The sweet comment made Y/n blush slightly, and the crew couldn’t help but let out a collective “aww.” Jack, who had been listening intently, chimed in with “Airplane!” again, sticking to his plan, which sent everyone into fits of laughter.

“Looks like Jack is sticking to his guns,” the producer said, still chuckling. “How about we change it up a bit? Dogs or Cats?”

“Dogs,” Y/n and Toto answered simultaneously, their voices merging into one. They exchanged amused looks, both remembering the countless times they’d been charmed by stray dogs during their travels.

“Especially the time we tried to bring one home from Monaco,” Y/n reminisced, her eyes sparkling.

Toto nodded. “That dog was convinced we were meant to adopt him. He followed us everywhere.”

“And he almost ended up in our suitcase,” Y/n added with a laugh.

“Jack would have loved him,” Toto said, glancing down at his son, who was now pretending to be a dog, barking softly.

“Maybe one day,” Y/n mused, resting her head on Toto’s shoulder.

The producer, sensing the perfect segue, moved on to the next question. “Formula 1 or Football?”

This one took a moment. Y/n grinned, knowing where her loyalties lay. “Formula 1, of course. How could I choose anything else when I’m married to this guy?”

Toto smiled, a bit bashful under the attention. “I’d have to agree, but,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I do enjoy a good football match. Just don’t let the drivers know.”

The cameras caught the playful exchange, the way Y/n playfully nudged Toto, the fond look in Toto’s eyes as he gazed at her. Jack, meanwhile, shouted “Cars!” in a burst of excitement, once again steering the conversation back to his favorite subject.

“You know what, Jack?” Toto said, shifting his son slightly so he was facing the camera. “One day, you’ll be in one of those cars, and I’ll be on the pit wall cheering you on.”

Jack’s eyes widened with delight at the idea. “Really, Daddy?”

“Absolutely,” Toto replied, pressing a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “But first, you have to promise Mum and me that you’ll always have your juice.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head at the promise. “That’s one way to secure his focus.”

The producer smiled, flipping to the final card. “Morning person or night owl?”

Y/n and Toto looked at each other, this time with more serious expressions, though still laced with affection. “Night owl,” Y/n said with a knowing smile.

“I’m a morning person,” Toto countered, “though I’ve learned to appreciate the night more because of you.”

Y/n tilted her head, her smile growing. “You’re sweet. But you have to admit, some of our best conversations happen late at night, after Jack’s asleep, when it’s just the two of us.”

Toto nodded in agreement, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. Those are the moments I cherish most. Even if it means less sleep.”

Jack, who had been listening carefully, suddenly yawned, earning another round of laughter from the crew. “Looks like someone’s not quite sure if he’s a morning person or a night owl yet,” Y/n said, wrapping her arm around Jack and drawing him close.

The session wrapped up soon after, with the family exchanging warm goodbyes with the crew. As they walked off the set, hand in hand, the cameras continued to roll, capturing those unscripted moments that showed just how close-knit the Wolff family truly was.

When the video was finally released, it was an instant hit. The internet exploded with love for the Wolff family, with fans praising their natural chemistry and the way they made every moment feel genuine and full of heart. Jack became an overnight sensation, with his “Airplane!” answer and infectious smile winning the hearts of millions.

“More Wolff family content, please!” was a common comment, along with “Jack is the real MVP!” and “Toto and Y/n are couple goals!”

[mcflymemes]

IN-DEPTH HEADCANON QUESTIONS * inspired by genetic traits that might be passed through dna

does your muse like the taste of cilantro/coriander, or are they part of the roughly 20% of people that think it tastes like soap?

does your muse consume more caffeine or less caffeine than the average person? how do they typically consume it?

does your muse have a cleft chin? is this trait visible in their parents?

does your muse love to dance, or would they rather avoid dancing altogether?

is your muse's ring finger longer or shorter than their pointer/index finger?

does your muse have freckles? if so, where are they placed? does your muse like their freckles, or wish they had some?

does your muse have a birthmark? if so, where, and what does it look like?

does your muse get "hangry" when they haven't eaten in a while?

would your muse consider themselves an extrovert or an introvert?

is your muse a morning person or a night person?

is your muse a particularly picky eater? what foods do they refuse to eat?

when your muse wakes up in the morning, do they remember their dreams, or completely forget them?

does your muse play a musical instrument? did they play one at some point?

would you say your muse is a risk taker, or do they prefer to play it safe?

what are your muse's thoughts on spicy foods?

what are your muse's thoughts on sweet foods?

what are your muse's thoughts on dairy products? do they have an intolerance?

is your muse a habitual nap-taker? how often do they take naps? how long do their naps usually last?

does your muse's face get flushed after they drink alcohol?

what type of hair do they have? how thick is their hair? do they like the way their hair looks and feels?

is your muse more of an endurance runner, or are they better at short sprints?

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The creator had a:

sea streaked child

WC:800

Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so

Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.

Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.

Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.

Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.

She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.

“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”

“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”

“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”

“Why no coffee?”

“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.

“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”

And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.

“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”

“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms

“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.

“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.

He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.

“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.

Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.

“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”

The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.

“OOAH!”

“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

[partycatty]

BRO IDK WHAT TO REQUEST LOL IDK HOW TO ASK THIS, BUT COULD YOU WRITE SOME SLEEPY JOHNNY CAGE FLUFF, Like just tooth rottingly sweet johnny like idk i just want to love on him when he's sleepy and just say sweet shit to him like, idk whatever you want to write, you're fucking great at doing it so I'll let you be the boss. ily.

johnny cage > long hours

the production of his new movie leaves johnny feeling exhausted 24/7... and clingy.

warnings: idk this is probably ass, it's really short

notes: i am once again inviting you to my discord server!

[ masterlist ]

• johnny's new job - writing and directing his new mortal kombat movie - had taken a toll on him, that much was evident. he'd be gone for long hours, returning disheveled and half awake, and the first thing he'd do was come to you.

• you were his rock, sometimes even his caffeine boost due to the pure excitement he felt locking eyes with you. johnny expressed multiple times - sometimes even in his sleep - that you were his greatest motivator and prize when it came to coming home. he loved you, and he loved you hard.

• this particular night, it had reached close to three in the morning when you finally heard the front doorknob jiggle. setting down your book, you pad your way down the stairs and to the foyer. you were already in your pajamas, always ready to pass out when he'd come home. he'd never ask you to, but you're always willing to stay up until he makes a safe return.

• his coat is thrown onto the floor, bag discarded onto a bench, and johnny climbs right up against you, nuzzling into your neck with heavy breaths. even while standing, he's cuddling you, breathing in your scent and nearly climbing into your skin.

• "missed you," he hums, the vibration tickles your neck. "a lot."

• "i missed you too, big guy," you rub circles into his back, tilting your head to better slot his face into your neck. "how's about bed, mm?"

• "too far," he groans, his arms wrapping themselves around your middle and pulling you impossibly closer. "couch."

• johnny's hands roam across your middle, clinging onto fistfuls of your pajama shirt with all his remaining strength. you walk him back, falling back onto the couch. johnny happily obliges to the change, laying directly on top of you.

• "you're gonna squish me to death," you teasingly warn him, running a hand up and down his back. "you're heavy."

• he whines a long, complaining whine, peppering kisses to your jaw. "s'okay," he murmurs, lips dragging along your cheek. "i squish you... s'okay..." you realize he's not entirely present in the moment, relishing in your warmth. maybe he deserves this moment of squishing.

• he's all muscle, his weight pressing into you not enough to cause pain but enough for you to be slightly winded. johnny rubs his face against yours, humming contentedly.

• "i love you," he breathes, his stubble scratching you. "my favorite thing... ever."

• "i love you too, superstar," you respond, breathless. a hand finds his hair, raking through it gently while applying pressure to his scalp. he moans at the feeling. "you work so hard, you know that?"

• "mhm."

• "and you're strong."

• "i am?" his voice is weak, teetering on the edge of babytalk. he knows the answer, he just prefers you to say it.

• "so strong," you reply, chuckling to yourself at his vulnerability. "the strongest." your other hand traces around his back, feeling each dip and bump of the muscles he worked so hard to achieve.

• "mmh," he can only hum in response, tucking his arms underneath you to hold you tighter. "you're so nice to me."

• "of course i am," you agree, patting his back. "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. i know i'll always have you by my side, and i know we're apart often nowadays but i know it's because you're working on your movie. this is huge for you, and i'll always support you, my love. you're my favorite, i hope i make it clear every waking moment i ca-" you hear faint snoring.

• johnny has fully fallen asleep, snoring into your neck and body now fully pressed against you. you didn't blame him, you had gone on a tangent when he was barely there to begin with. he's been working hard, maybe too hard. perhaps you could convince him to take a day off sometime soon. you're due for a date, not just a nap-on-the-couch date. you suppose this was your new sleeping location for the night, and so your eyes flutter shut as your repetitive stroking of his hair fades away. the two of you pass out on the couch, cherishing what little time you're given with the love of your life.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 7: hoodie weather

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Autumn was, without a doubt, a clear prelude to the approaching winter. It was raining outside, and your boyfriend was sleeping on your apartment couch, forced to take a break by his unit chief after he fainted at the office from exhaustion. He had, of course, refused, but after Aaron warned him that he could suspend him for longer, Spencer had no choice but to comply.

When he called to tell you, you suggested that he spend the day at your place. You often scolded him for neglecting his health, and you tried hard to help him develop healthier habits. But it seemed Spencer often forgot, and this situation was clear proof of that.

Every so often, you touched his forehead to check that he didn’t have a fever, and due to the cold, you had covered him with one of your quilt to prevent him from catching a cold. He looked so peaceful and comfortable that you felt touched, even if the reasons for his rest weren’t to your liking.

Your laptop lay abandoned on the coffee table, and you thought it was a good time to take care of some pending tasks, although honestly, the weather just made you want to sleep all afternoon. While waiting for the machine to turn on, you decided to head to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, returning quickly and settling comfortably in the armchair in your living room, ready to work.

You lost track of time after the first hour and probably your third cup of coffee when, suddenly, you saw your boyfriend stir in his spot. You thought he was just readjusting to sleep better, but that idea vanished when he sat up on the couch and looked at you with sleepy eyes.

“Hey,” you murmured with a smile, taking off your earbuds.

“Hi.”

“How was your beauty sleep?” you joked, and behind his hand rubbing his eye, you saw a smile.

“I feel more tired than when I lay down.”

“That happens when you have so much accumulated exhaustion,” you replied disapprovingly.

You put your laptop aside and decided, now that there was space, to sit next to Reid. Gently and kindly, you extended your hand to fix some of his messy hair. You looked at his eyes, still closed, like when you want to stop sleeping, but your body refuses, as if trying to prolong the satisfaction of resting.

“Thanks for the quilt,” he murmured, snuggling more into it and leaning against your body.

Everything about him radiated warmth, which was perfect for you, suffering from the cold that seeped in from the outside. His head nestled into your neck, and his arms wrapped around your waist, practically curling up next to you. You felt him plant a couple of soft kisses on your neck and jaw, making your heart race and drawing a sigh from you.

“Do you want me to make you something? You haven’t eaten anything today,” you observed in a soft voice, feeling him shake his head against your skin.

“I just want to be with you,” he sighed. You felt him inhale softly near you, and then he continued, “You smell like coffee. Have you been drinking coffee?”

“Mhm.”

“I want a cup.”

“No. You’ll have it once you’ve eaten something.”

“I can drink it now.”

“Doctor Reid, would you care to remind me what the consequences of drinking coffee on an empty stomach are?”

“It increases the production of stomach acid, which can damage the stomach lining and cause heartburn, indigestion, nausea, and reflux. This excess acid can also lead to irritable bowel syndrome, temporarily raise blood pressure, and in people sensitive or intolerant to caffeine, it can cause anxiety or nervousness.”

“Thank you,” you murmured calmly, as he recited it almost like a prayer. “Once you’ve eaten something, I’ll make you a cup.”

You both fell silent for a moment, enjoying the sound of the rain hitting the windows outside and the calm of your embrace. Spencer didn’t know if you realized just how much you meant to him and the peace he felt whenever he was in a position like this with you. Nothing compared to the sensation of your skin, breathing in your scent, feeling you stroke his hair… simply knowing he was loved and cared for by you made him feel like there was no more perfect place in the world.

After a few minutes, you thought he had fallen back asleep, but that idea disappeared when you heard him speak again.

“I feel a bit guilty for not going to work. I wish I knew how the case was going, but Aaron warned me I couldn’t even call them.”

“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard, love,” you murmured softly into his ear, which was at the level of your mouth. “Sometimes it’s necessary to rest. And I hope this serves as a warning, your own body is demanding that you stop for a moment. I wouldn’t like them to call me from the hospital one of these days because something happened to you. Do you understand?”

Although your voice sounded like a scolding, it was really masked concern. You didn’t know how to help him, and Spencer left out the part where he couldn’t rest due to recurring nightmares.

But now he didn’t want to talk about that. Everyone asked him about it and looked at him as if he were some sort of misfortunate soul… he didn’t want that pity, least of all from you.

“It’s cold,” he noted, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, it’s cold. But it’s nice weather, isn’t it?”

“I like it. It’s peaceful, and it gives me an excuse to cuddle you.”

He felt your chest vibrate with laughter, and then, finally, he came out of his hiding spot to look at you. His furrowed brow had softened into a silly smile, one that reflected his complete love for you.

“Reid, you can always cuddle me, you don’t need an excuse for that.”

“But I like having one. That way, I make sure you’re warm.”

With your own smile, you stretched slightly to join your lips in a kiss you intended to be short, a plan your boyfriend denied. He maneuvered to lay you down on the couch and continued kissing you, as if it were a task of utmost importance. Though you didn’t know where this sudden enthusiasm came from, it didn’t occur to you to complain.

“Did you know...” your boyfriend began to whisper, “... that kisses can have a relaxing effect? The body releases oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins” with each word, he punctuated it with a kiss. “Plus, cortisol levels… decrease.”

“So, you’re kissing me in the name of science?”

“For my health,” he corrected, utterly amused.

He had positioned himself between your legs, and you instinctively wrapped them around his hips, eager to keep the distance between you as minimal as possible.

“Let’s go get you something to eat,” you suggested in a whisper, trying to persuade him with a short kiss “Then you can continue with your medicinal therapy.”

Spencer didn’t need to hear it twice, and as you had promised, after a hearty meal, you both dove back into another session of caresses. All for weather and health-related reasons… of course.

[moonstruckme]

Last one - I promise - I think- I hope 🙃🌻🌻

Can I request- apple pie rich vanilla perfume - for Spencer Reid

Thank youuu 🌻

Haha thank you for your requests my love! They were fun :) Also sorry in advance for the ending of this one it feels awkward to me but I couldn't figure out how to end it

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 535 words

The amalgamated scent of your shower products follows you out of the bathroom, your hair wetting your shoulders. It makes you shiver, but you leave Spencer’s bedroom window open to let the cool night air in a while longer. 

“Do you have hot chocolate mix?” you ask Spencer, padding towards the kitchen. 

“No.” His voice comes from the living room, and you hear the couch springs creak as he gets up. “Just tea and coffee. If you want hot chocolate, though, I could go get some.” 

“That’s okay, tea sounds good.” You start pulling open cabinets, looking for it. Spencer appears a moment later. 

He touches your shoulder to encourage you back as he opens a drawer. There are more nighttime teas than caffeinated ones, most of them unopened. You wonder if they were gifts. 

“Thanks.” You glance up to flash a smile at him, then startle. 

Spencer’s hand flattens to your shoulder as if to steady you. His brows twitch together at your expression. “What?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just…you’re in a hoodie.” 

“Oh.” He looks down as though he’d forgotten. “Yeah.”

“You’re in my hoodie.” 

His eyes meet yours again, the color of melted chocolate and twice as sweet. “Is that okay?”

You nod, your fingers finding the ribbed cuff at the end of his (your?) sleeve. They run over it absently. “Yeah, it’s okay. It just surprised me. I’ve never seen you in anything so casual.” 

“Really? I think I dress casual,” he says, softly, almost as if he’s wondering to himself. 

“I guess I’ve just never seen you in….loungewear,” you clarify. You let your touch skim upwards, pinching the fabric halfway up his arm. Spencer comes out of his musings to give you a soft smile. You mirror his expression. “It’s cute.”

His lips twitch at your word choice. “It’s okay that I didn’t ask before borrowing it? You just left it on the couch when you went to shower, and it always smells really nice.” 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” You start rifling through the tea drawer, feeling your face warm slightly. “It smells nice?” 

“Well, it smells like you.” It’s not flirtatious or even particularly kind, only matter-of-fact. “Vanilla, like that perfume you use.” 

“You like it?” 

“Yeah, I do.” You can feel Spencer’s gaze on the back of your neck. “I mean, it smells better on you, but the sweatshirt is a nice substitute for when you’re not nearby.” 

“Oh, wow.” You pick out your tea, turning to him with your eyebrows raised. “I can be replaced by a hoodie? That’s how much I mean to you?” 

Spencer knows you’re only playing with him, his lips curving. “That’s not what I said.” 

You break immediately. He’s too sweet to tease for long. Your arms come around his neck, your chin resting on the soft fabric covering his chest. 

“I can’t smell it anymore,” you say. “I think I must be too used to it.” 

Spencer holds your back with one hand, and with the other brings the collar of your sweatshirt over his nose. His inhale is subtle enough that you can barely hear it even this close. 

“It’s still nice,” he tells you. “But anything would be, on you.”

[shadowkoo]

love me softly

→ Summary: When your long-distance boyfriend's visit falls through, you decide to make the most of your free time. But after a day out, you're in for an unexpected surprise when you get home.

↠ taeyong x f.reader | 1.9k words | 18+ ↠ genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship, idol au, long distance au

→ Warnings: lots of pet names, a touch of sad vibes in the beginning but that turns around pretty quickly, the sweetest softest smut i’ve written in a while, praise kink, the lightest hair pulling idk if it really counts lol, body worship (yong really really love his girl okay), creampie, unprotected & explicit sex, if i’m missing any lemme know

→ Networks: @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

→ Author Note: happy october :) this is just a lil shortie oneshot (which was supposed to be a drabble skldjfa;lksdfj) to get me back on writing track, i’ve got a big spooky fic coming in the next few weeks!! divider credit

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” Taeyong mumbles through his phone. “It’s taking us longer to film than we anticipated, so I’m gonna be delayed another day at least.”

Your boyfriend had initially set aside time in his very busy schedule to come visit you after he finished filming his newest music video in LA; which should’ve wrapped up a few days ago. Since you live on opposite sides of the world, he wanted to take advantage of being only a few states apart instead continents apart. You’re just a quick three hour flight away and he’s been thinking about seeing you ever since he planned this break in his schedule.

Except his plans keep changing; first it was production problems and now it’s the weather. They just can’t catch a break. And all of this is cutting into the time he is supposed to spend with you.

“Is it even worth visiting now? We’ll only have a day or two left from the week we planned together."

Taeyong’s brows furrow, “It’s worth it to me, you’re worth it. I know it’s not ideal, baby, but I miss you so much. Even if we only have a couple of hours together, I’ll still come to you when this is finished.”

Hearing the film crew calling his name through the phone, you sigh, letting the welled up tears fall down your cheeks. They’re ready to start filming the next scene and he has to go, again. You won’t be seeing him today, again.

“Honey, I’m so sorry. I have to get back on set. I’ll text you later, okay?” Taeyong’s heart rips into pieces when he hears you sniffle.

“Okay, I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” He hangs up and takes a couple of deep breathes, blinking back his own tears. He hates when you’re hurt, especially when it’s his fault. Taeyong lets out a puff of air, time to pull it together. The faster he perfects this scene and those to follow, the faster he can be on his way to you.

It’s the next day, and you wake up with swollen eyes from crying all night. You push back the blankets and force yourself to get up. Sitting at home and being sad all day won’t do you any good.

You know that it’s not Taeyong’s fault he keeps getting delayed, everything that’s happened has just been an unfortunate string of events. You’ll admit that going to see him had crossed your mind last night, but then you thought better of it.

Girlfriends at work can cause problems, you don’t want to distract him or be in the way of the crew. Plus, you two haven’t fully gone public with your relationship yet. His management team has been informed for a while now, and other NCT member’s know too.

But the millions of fans? That’s a daunting step that you two haven’t taken yet. You’re not necessarily hiding your relationship, but you’re not flaunting it out in front of the world either.

As you get dressed, you shoot a quick text to your friend Fia to confirm your plans for coffee and a trip to the bookstore. Running on little sleep, you're in serious need of caffeine, and you've been eagerly waiting for your favorite author’s new book to drop.

She replies almost instantly, saying she’s in and excited to see you. You skip your usual makeup routine and throw your hair into a loose ponytail before heading out the door.

Stepping outside onto the leaf-littered sidewalk, you can’t help but smile—it’s finally October, your favorite time of year. The air feels crisp, and everything has that warm, cozy vibe that you love, from now until the end of the year. It’s the perfect season for coffee dates, soft sweaters, and losing yourself in a good book.

Fia is saving you a window seat inside her favorite cafe, “Hi! It’s been too long, I got you an Iced Pumpkin Chai.” She cheerfully hands you the drink, “So, how have you been? I thought Taeyong would be coming with you?”

“Ahh, right,” you say, before taking your first sip. “He’s stuck in LA unfortunately, but I still wanted to catch up you.”

“Oh no, that’s a bummer,” she says, resting a hand on your arm. “How are you handling it?”

“Better than last time, but it’s still not fun.”

“I bet, well if you get lonely you’re always welcome to come stay with me. I don’t think James will mind.” James is Fia’s elderly cat, who takes his naps on the windowsill quite seriously. He’s to sleepy to care when Fia has visitors, as you’ve witnessed.

“I might take you up on that offer.”

Meeting up with Fia completely turned your day around. The two of you sipped coffee, chatted about your latest reads, and vented about the upcoming book-to-movie adaptations that are sure to fall short. Then, you made your way to the bookstore, continuing the conversation.

After each grabbing a few books, Fia convinces you to go thrift shopping with her next. By the time you finally make it home, your arms are loaded with the day’s haul.

You set down the bags so you can punch in your door key code, letting yourself in. The afternoon sunlight shines through your windows, illuminating the beautiful bouquet of marigolds on your table with a warm glow.

‘Hmm, that’s weird,’ you think to yourself as you set the bags down next to them, ‘Did I buy these earlier this week and forget about them? That would be just like me with everything that’s been on my mind.’

You think nothing of it and head to your bedroom, ready to change into comfier clothes for the rest of the night. Earlier, on the walk home you decided you’d spend the rest of your night by making your favorite soup for dinner, and then settling in for a Halloweentown movie marathon.

Just inside your bedroom door, you see a hoodie drapped over a suitcase. Your heart swells as your eyes drift over to the bed, where your boyfriend is peacefully sleeping. Not wanting to wake him, you change quietly and climb into bed and wrap yourself around him, you need to make sure this is real and not a figment of your imagination.

He rolls over and envelops you in his arms, kissing you softly. “Mmm, I was wondering when you’d get back.”

It’s really him.

“How are you here right now?” you ask, pulling back to scan his face.

“We finished filming late last night. Well technically this morning around 3am, and I got on the first available flight.”

“How long have you been here?” you ask next.

“Not long, just enough for me to change out of airport clothes and climb in bed,” he chuckles, pulling you back in for another sweet kiss. His lips gently press against yours and a hand reached around to the back of your head, letting down your hair so his fingers could run through the loose strands.

Taeyong tugs your hair with the lightest touch, but enough for you to let out a soft gasp. He uses the opportunity to push his tongue in past your parted lips.

Your hands rub up his solid chest, and you moan into his mouth as his kisses get a little more rough, a little more desperate.

“Did you like your flowers?” he asks when your lips are just barely touching.

“They’re beautiful,” you giggle, “I couldn’t figure out where they came from. I thought I might have gone crazy.”

“I saw them at the market just down the street and they reminded me of how radiant you always are.” His eyes gaze into yours and you can see that he really means that. Your heart melts.

“Ugh, I missed you,” you murmur before pulling him in for another long kiss, only separating when you need air.

He admires how swollen and wet your lips are while he hovers over you, looking down with desire-filled eyes.

“I missed you so much. I missed kissing you. I missed the way you taste. The way you mewl when I touch you right here,” he whispers, his hand slipping in between your legs, sliding them under your panties until his fingers find their way home.

Tossing your head back into the pillows, you squeeze your eyes shut as one finger, and then two, dip inside your slick heat.

“God, so wet already.” His fingers pump into you again and they curl at the right moment, lighting your body on fire. He keeps a leisurely pace, wanting to savor every second of this. He can take you from behind later. Right now he wants to prove how much he missed you. How much he loves you.

“Mmm, yes,” you moan, having longed for this so much over the past few months. He knows you so well, your body is so in tune with his. “Let me touch you too,” you breath as your fingers find his waistband. You stroke his growing length. Feeling the weight of him in your palm has always makes your mouth water for what is to come.

Rough Taeyong is devilishly hot, but soft and sensual Taeyong is a whole other breed of demon. He’ll worship you until you’re a dripping mess.

He watches intently as your eyes flutter shut, knowing very well that you’re close. He strategically presses his thumb up against your aching clit, rubbing in dangerous circles until he feels your walls start to tense. “Come for me, babe. Come all over my fingers like the good girl I know you are.”

His words are enough to send you over the edge. He swallows your loud moans while you clench around his fingers, coming beautifully undone and writhing underneath him.

Taeyong lets you ride out the waves, completely captivated by how ethereal you look in that moment. “You’re a goddess,” he breathes, bending down to meet your mouth once again. He pulls back, only to remove your clothing before removing his own.

“Love me, ‘Yongie,” you beg, needing to feel him inside you, just needing him.

“Always.” He moves a hand to cup your cheek while he slowly sinks into your wet slit. No matter how many times he’s with you, he’ll never get over how perfect you are. He bites back a moan when he hits your cervix. A perfect fucking fit, every single time.

He moves with a pace so slow it feels like divine torture. “I’ll never get tired of this,” he groans, pulling out until just his tip is held between your folds, then rolling his hips back inward.

“OH my god,” you moan, your nails digging into his bare back, “You feel so good.”

Taeyong nestles his head into your neck, bringing you closer and closer to the release that you crave.

“I’m close, baby, so close,” you whine. “Come in me,” you beg, pleading for him to release into you. 

Taeyong hisses, his movements becoming more jerky. “I love you,” he groans as the coil snaps inside you. Waves of pleasure wash over your body, the sparks tingling through your veins. He follows your suit, tensing as your inner walls writhe around his length, milking him of his creamy seed.

He collapses next to you, whispering I love you’s into your ear as you both catch your breath.

“So,” you begin once you finally remember how to speak, “Wanna help me make dinner?”

“In a bit,” he sighs, pulling your limp body on top of his to kiss you lazily, “I’m not done loving you yet.”

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[thevoidstaredback]

Tim's Deep Dive

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

Tim frowned down at his coffee. He was right, no amount of caffeine would ever be enough again.

Phantom was right, too. Tim's heart had, in fact, stopped beating for about a minute after he took that first sip, but it was nothing he couldn't walk off. He'd also been awake for three days, but it had been a very productive three days, so jokes on everyone else!

God, he needed a nap.

'Productive' is a strong word, actually. Yeah, he'd gotten a lot of work done in those three days, but it wasn't any of the work he should've been doing, like any of the four cases he was currently working on. Yeah, he progressed them, but he wasn't focused on them.

Hyperfocus is an intense form of mental concentration or visualization that focuses consciousness on a subject, topic, or task. And currently, Tim was hyperfocusd on Phantom. Well, specifically, he'd focused on who Phantom is.

Sure, his original goal was to find the recipe for that coffee - damn it was good! - but that had quickly been derailed when he'd found the JL's records on him.

Or rather, lack thereof.

Batman knows everything there is to know about everyone. He logs it all in the Justice League Records, obviously encrypted and not all in one place, but there's nothing on Phantom.

The JLD Files had a bit more information, but not by much.

There was a picture of Phantom, obviously taken when he was mid-battle, but the town in the background was unfamiliar and old. Phantom's hair was white, but more solid looking than normal, and his eyes were purely a toxic sort of green. His suit was a black HAZMAT with white gloves, boots, collar, and decal. His features were also a lot more...human looking? Yeah. He's more human like in the picture, ignoring the glowing green where there should be blood.

Was that...Lazarus Water?

No, it's too bright. But it's definitely something similar.

Underneath the picture was the standard base of everyone's files.

Name: N/A Alias: Phantom Age: N/A D.O.B: 02-12-XXXX (Earth Calendar) Gender: Male Race: Ghost (Realms Being) Height: 5'2" Weight: N/A Location: Infinite Realms / House of Mysteries Status: Dead Personality: Introverted, kindhearted, loyal, protective, confident Powers: Sensitive to emotions, flight/levitation, invisibility, intangibility, eco blasts, basic magic History: The JLD summoned him, and he didn't leave. Zatanna Zatara offered him an official spot on the JLD Team, but he refused. He has yet to leave and works unofficially as a consultant with both the JL and JLD on Realms related problems

Tim had to give it to Phantom; he really knows how to keep himself hidden. There's almost nothing in the file on him. 'Almost' being the key word.

For one, the background of the picture. If Phantom's from anywhere the JL and affiliated teams have visited, then there'll be record of it.

Second, the specification of 'Earth Calendar'. He's from a place similar enough to their world to use their calendar, otherwise it would've been marked with the date of his home's calendar. No matter which calendar was used, though, didn't explain why the year was blocked out.

Thirdly, the file says both 'Ghost' and 'Realms Being'. According to the powerpoint Constantine presented barely two months ago, he can cross off 'ghost' as the correct term to use.

'Realms Being' makes sense if he's really from the Infinite Realms. However, why is he staying the the House of Mysteries? How can Tim get in?

'Dead' is not a ne thing to see on files like this, especially when dealing with magic, though the status doesn't normally start as Dead. Though, he's clearly able to consume substance, probably meaning that he also expels waste, but the dead can't do that. Deadman is a prime example of that fact. 'Undying' would be a better term, but that isn't quite right, either. Maybe as his race, but definitely not as his status.

The personality and powers check out from what Tim has seen and heard. Was that all there is to Phantom? That didn't seem right.

The history is what was really interesting. Phantom gets pulled from his home one day, probably to make a deal in exchange for help, and just decides to stick around? Not only that, but there's nothin before or after that. He lives in the House and works as a consultant, though he won't become a part of any team. Why? The wording is really vague, too.

Tim's always loved a good mystery.

With Speedsters, the Timeline is more of an open concept than a set path, so finding a 'when' is just a important as the 'how'.

He had the Batcomputer analyzing the photo, the only cap on time being the early nineteen-sixties when coloured cameras became much more widely available.

While that was going, he also ran the picture through facial recognition software. Phantom looked more human when this was taken, so it was probably close to when he died. (Did the dead change appearance after the fact, or did they look as they did in life? Jason suggests that they change, but he was only dead for six months, so he was probably an outlier. Then again, it's not like there's a huge sample pool for this kind of thing.)

Twenty minutes later, Tim had the results for both searches.

Amity Park, Illinois: Founded in 1690, Destroyed in 2069 An explosion, apparently. The state of Illinois converted the site to farmland, leasing it out to a couple of farmers.

Danny Phantom: First publicly appeared in mid-2004. His debut was at the local middle school, fighting a ghost named The Lunch Lady. After that, it was near daily appearances. Property damage and bystander injuries were kept to a minimum if not zero. Phantom's first recorded appearance dates back to Ancient Times, most notably in hieroglyphs alongside Anubis. All sightings of Phantom stopped in February of 2032.

Odd.

Even odder still? The second name that came up for Phantom.

Daniel James Fenton: Son of the town's ghost hunters/mad scientists. He was known for being terrified of ghosts, disappearing whenever there was a ghost attack. But, he had been sited to help Phantom run from both the Doctors Fenton and a [now disbanded] government organisation (Tim would have to make sure it was really gone, but that's a later project) called The Ghost Investigation Ward (G.I.W for short). He was quoted about altering his parents' tech so that Phantom could use it. His best friends had even been seen helping Phantom whenever they could.

If so many coincidences (seriously, try a little harder next time, okay?) weren't a dead give away, the craziest thing? Daniel looked almost exactly like Phantom.

His hair was black and his eyes sky blue, but his features were all the same. Daniel and Phantom held themselves completely differently, even dressing almost exactly opposite of each other, but it was still obvious that they're the same person.

Tim ran the facial recognition on Daniel James Fenton, giving an approximate age based on information Phantom had given willingly. Lo and behold, not even ten minutes later, Daniel J. F. Nightingale was staring at him from the screen.

Four years did almost nothing to change how he looks, but it hadn't been four years. Daniel didn't slowly fade out until he was thirty-six years old. It'd had been over a hundred years and Daniel didn't look a day over eighteen years old. Phantom looking the same makes sense because he's dead; no heartbeat or breathing. Daniel doesn't make sense because he's human, born and raised.

Medical records were shody to come by, especially for a town that had been destroyed, but it was doable. Inside, Tim found what was probably the answer to how Daniel has stayed nearly the same: An accident in his parents' lab.

Metahumans have only been recorded in the last hundred years or so. There's evidence of them existing long before that, but nothing concrete. Could Daniel be one of the first?

Tim had so many questions.

First thing's first, though: He coded the notes and put them in his personal folder. He had a hero to find.

Storyboard