#i had to make this because it was so funny

[technically-human]

He did eventually sign it

[rafes-slut]

You let him hit raw for first time

Pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!reader

Summary: after he was beghing you for months to hit it raw you finally let him. But he gets too excited to last long

Warnings:( Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Praise & degradation, Rafe being obsessed with you, Slight power struggle, Bitchy attitude (from you), Begging (from him), Possessiveness, Probably some light choking/gripping, A lot of dirty talk

----

"Come on, baby. Just once. Just let me feel you."

It had been Rafe's favorite thing to beg for since the start of your relationship. His obsession. His mission.

Every time he had you underneath him, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his hands gripping at your waist or your wrists or your throat—he'd ask. He'd plead. He'd run his lips over your ear, whispering filthy promises about how good it would feel, how much better it would be, how you’d never want to go back.

And every time, you told him no.

You liked making him work for it. You liked the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip got tighter, the way his frustration seeped into every rough thrust. Because Rafe Cameron didn’t lose, and telling him no? That made him desperate to win.

But tonight?

Tonight, you felt mean.

Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night, the way his hands had barely left your body, like he was starving. Maybe it was the way he pulled you onto his lap the second you got to his house, hands palming your ass, lips dragging along your jaw. Maybe it was the way you wanted to ruin him.

So, when he kissed you breathless and muttered against your lips, "Please, baby, just once," you smirked.

"Fine."

Rafe froze. His pupils dilated so fast you thought he might pass out. His lips parted, brows pulling together like he was trying to process what he just heard.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "You heard me."

And then?

He lost his fucking mind.

The second his cock pressed inside, with nothing in between, he let out a sound you’d never heard before. Like an actual, feral groan, deep in his chest, his body shuddering against yours as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he gasped, dropping his head to your shoulder. His hands gripped your thighs like he wanted to bruise them, like he needed to ground himself. "Fuck. You feel—Jesus."

His breath was hot against your neck, his whole body shaking with restraint. Like he wanted to ruin you, but he was trying—failing—to keep himself together.

"You good?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Rafe let out a low, humorless laugh before he pulled back to look at you. His blue eyes were dark, wild, possessive.

"Oh, baby," he rasped, voice dripping with something dangerous. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up. "You just fucked up."

Rafe didn’t move for a second. He just stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him. Like he was already dreading the moment he had to pull out.

“Holy shit,” he rasped, voice all shaky and breathless.

You smirked, just a little, running your hands up his arms. “What? You’re not gonna punk out on me, are you?”

That snapped something in him.

Rafe let out a choked laugh, but there was nothing funny about the way he gripped your waist. “You think I’m gonna tap out? Oh, baby.” His fingers dug into your skin, holding you down. “I’m just trying not to bust the second I move.”

You laughed, but the sound cut off when he rolled his hips—just once, slow, deep.

His whole body shuddered. His head dropped forward, forehead pressing into yours, his jaw clenching like he was physically fighting his own body.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. His breath came out in short, sharp bursts, and his grip on you only got tighter. “Oh my God, this is—this is so much better—”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging your nails up his back. “C’mon, baby,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “I thought you were dying for this. Don’t tell me you can’t handle it.”

That did it.

Rafe’s hands jerked your hips up, making you gasp, making you feel just how hard he was struggling to keep it together.

“You love running that mouth, don’t you?” he gritted out, glaring down at you. “Think you’re so fucking funny.”

You smirked up at him, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You begged for this, Cameron. If you can’t handle it, just say so.”

That was the final straw.

Rafe let out a sharp breath, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still talking, still teasing him when he was this close to fucking losing it.

“Okay,” he muttered, half to himself, like he was officially done playing nice. His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you into the mattress, tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes when he said—

“Don’t fucking move.”

Then, he pulled out—all the way—before slamming back in, forcing a gasp from your lips as he stretched you again.

Rafe let out a broken groan, his body shuddering as he tried—tried—not to let it get the best of him. But you were so tight, so fucking warm, and there was nothing, nothing, in between.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “Baby, I swear to God, I can’t—”

You laughed, breathless. “Already?”

His grip tightened around your throat in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, voice shaking.

You did, but only because you were too distracted by the way he was trembling above you, holding himself back, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped.

You could feel how desperate he was. You could see the way his abs tensed, his muscles flexing as he fought for every ounce of self-control he had.

He wanted to ruin you. He needed to.

But he was so close, and it was killing him.

Rafe let out a shaky breath, glaring down at you. “I hate you,” he muttered, his voice all breathless and wrecked.

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

And then, you moved. Just a little. Just enough to make him jerk inside you, to make his whole body seize up.

“Oh, you bitch,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust forward, his restraint finally snapping.

[eddiesxangel]

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ‘I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy… for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[reiding-writing]

Heyy!! i was wondering if you could perchance do a drabble with dad!spencer and mom!bau!reader where they've gotten into the rhythm of calling each other mommy and daddy in front of the kids and one of them accidentally slips up and does it work without realising. And then the team is like "hold on 🤨" (probably morgan) and they have to defend themselves. Just something i've been thinking about and i don't have the artistic ability to right it myself but you do! Thank youuuu! xxx

SLIP UP. /spencer reid/

your at-home naming habits find their way into the office.

bau!mom!reader 1.1k fluff masterlist.

a/n | this is so funny i love it.

The bullpen hums with its usual energy—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, conversations weaving through the space.

It’s late, and exhaustion weighs on everyone like a heavy fog. Cases have been stacking up, the paperwork never-ending, and you’re all running on caffeine and whatever sugar-laden snack Garcia has left in the breakroom.

You and Spencer, despite being used to sleepless nights—courtesy of two small children at home—are still feeling the burn.

Parenting while profiling is a delicate balance, and some days, it feels like you barely hold it together. But you've found ways to cope, to slip into a rhythm that works.

Spencer leans over his desk, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he scans a report. His hair is slightly disheveled—likely from running his hands through it—and his tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up. He looks exactly how you feel, drained.

You, seated across from him, are going through another file when you sigh and reach for the next document. “Pass Mommy the file, please,”

The moment the words leave your mouth, the bullpen stills. For a brief second, no one reacts. Not even Spencer, who doesn’t hesitate to slide the file over to you, his tired brain not even registering what just happened.

But then—

“Hold on, what?”

Your head snaps up so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. Across the table, Morgan is staring at you with wide eyes, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. JJ’s eyebrows are raised nearly to her hairline, and even Rossi has paused his paperwork, looking mildly amused.

Hotch looks like he’s trying very hard not to react.

You glance at Spencer, who is blinking rapidly, his brain trying to catch up with what just happened.

And then, it hits you.

“Oh my God.” Your stomach drops. Heat rushes to your face. “I didn’t mean—”

Morgan leans forward, elbows on the table, his smirk growing. “Did you just refer to yourself as Mommy?”

Spencer makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “It’s— It’s not—”

“Because I swear I just heard that,” Morgan continues, clearly enjoying himself.

JJ covers her mouth, eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. “It’s not what you think,”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think.” Morgan chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Reid, you calling her Mommy at home?”

Spencer makes another choked noise, shaking his head furiously. “No! I mean— yes, but not like that!”

JJ snorts, and even Hotch finally cracks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether or not to intervene.

You lift your head, groaning again. “We have two kids under four. There’s a lot of third-person referencing, okay?”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, amused.

Spencer, still red-faced, starts rambling. “It’s a psychological phenomenon, actually. When individuals—particularly parents—are frequently addressed in a particular way, their brains develop an associative response, reinforcing the use of the terms even in situations outside the expected context. It’s entirely innocent. Just an unconscious linguistic habit.”

Morgan whistles low. “Damn, Pretty Boy. You really just tried to profile your way out of calling your wife ‘Mommy’ in front of us,”

Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands.

Your face feels impossibly warm. “We’re tired, Morgan. We haven’t had a full night’s sleep in—” You glance at Spencer. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, three months, and sixteen days,” he answers automatically.

Morgan lets out a low whistle. “Damn,”

Emily places a hand over her heart. “That’s actually kind of adorable,”

Garcia practically vibrates with excitement. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I need to hear more,”

“There’s nothing more to hear,” Spencer says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s just a habit. Strictly innocent,”

“Oh, we believe you,” Rossi says, the corners of his mouth twitching. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to let it go,”

“Not a chance,” Morgan agrees.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Nope,” JJ says cheerfully.

Spencer sighs, rubbing his temples. “Great.”

And just like that, the teasing begins.

For the rest of the day—and likely for weeks to come—you hear variations of:

“Daddy, can you pass me that report?” from Emily.

“I don’t know, Mommy, what do you think?” from Morgan.

Garcia, of course, takes it the farthest, occasionally referring to you both as “Mommy and Daddy dearest,” complete with exaggerated winks.

By the time you make it home that evening, you collapse onto the couch with a groan, Spencer falling beside you.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you mumble.

“At least they think it’s funny,” Spencer says, leaning his head back against the cushions.

You sigh. “This is your fault,”

He turns his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. “My fault?”

“You didn’t even hesitate when I said it. You just handed me the file like it was totally normal,”

His lips twitch. “To be fair, it is normal,”

You nudge him with your foot. “Not at work, it isn’t,”

He chuckles, then tilts his head, considering. “Maybe if we just… pretend it never happened, they’ll drop it,”

You snort. “You really think that’s going to work?”

“…No,”

“Exactly.” You groan again, rubbing your hands over your face. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Spencer smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “At least we’re in it together, Mommy,”

You open your eyes just to glare at him. “You better not start doing that on purpose,”

He presses his lips together, trying to suppress a grin.

“Spencer,” you warn.

His grin widens. “Yes, Mommy?”

You grab a throw pillow and smack him with it, and his laughter fills the room, warm and familiar.

Exhausted as you both are, you wouldn’t trade this—your life, your family, the teasing from your team—for anything in the world.

[rosiecosy]

cozy baby˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(jeonghan x reader) — fluff — part of the find the baby series

jeonghan was not expecting to find you asleep on the floor of his room.

he had been in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and going through his usual nighttime routine, when he came back to see something—someone—huddled in a blanket beside his bed.

at first, he blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. but no, that was definitely you, curled up with your arms around a pillow, face half-buried into the fabric, completely knocked out.

he sighs. presses his lips together. tries very hard to fight the small smile creeping onto his face.

"why are you like this?" he mutters, crouching down beside you.

no response. not that he was expecting one.

he studies you for a second. you must've grabbed the blanket from your room before coming in here—probably intending to talk to him about something, only to get tired and decide this was a good enough spot to sleep.

jeonghan tilts his head, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing.

he should wake you up. or at the very least, carry you to bed. but then you shift slightly, the tiniest little sigh escaping your lips, and—

… yeah, okay. no. he can’t wake you up.

he’s weak, alright? he knows that.

so, instead, he flops onto the floor next to you.

it’s not the most comfortable spot, but whatever. he’s dealt with worse. plus, it’s kinda funny imagining the looks on the other members’ faces when they see this in the morning.

he tugs his own blanket off the bed, draping it over both of you before rolling onto his side, facing you.

you must be dreaming about something good because there’s a faint smile on your lips.

jeonghan finds himself smiling too.

without thinking too hard about it, he reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. you sigh again, shifting instinctively closer, and before he can process it, you’re tucking yourself against him, fingers loosely grasping at the sleeve of his hoodie.

his heart does something weird.

… whatever. he’ll deal with it later.

for now, he just lets himself get comfortable, eyes fluttering shut as sleep slowly pulls him under.

he’ll tease you about this in the morning.

probably.

—

a few hours later, you wake up.

it takes a second for the sleep haze to clear, but when it does, you immediately realize two things:

one, you’re not in your bed.

two, jeonghan is lying right next to you.

your heart stumbles over itself as your brain catches up. you blink in the dim light, barely processing the fact that you're both wrapped in the same blanket, bodies warm and pressed close.

oh god.

you don’t even remember falling asleep here. why didn’t he wake you up? why is he on the floor too?

guilt pricks at your chest. you hadn’t meant to take over his space like this. and now he’s sleeping on the floor because of you? no way. absolutely not.

carefully, you start to move, trying to wiggle out from under the blanket without disturbing him.

you almost make it.

but then, just as you shift away, an arm suddenly snakes around your waist—

and pulls you back in.

you barely have time to react before you're pressed right back against jeonghan’s chest, his hold firm but gentle, locking you in place.

"where are you going?" he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.

you freeze. "i—um. my room."

"mmm. don’t."

your breath catches. "but—"

"‘s fine." his arm tightens slightly, securing you against him. “just sleep."

your brain short-circuits.

you can feel the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing. his voice is lower than usual, drowsy and soft, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"… but the floor—"

"it’s fine." he buries his face slightly into your hair, exhaling slowly. "warm."

your heart is losing it.

"you sure?" you whisper, hesitant.

his response is instant, barely above a mumble—

"mm. stay."

… well.

how are you supposed to say no to that?

you stop resisting, letting yourself relax against him. the warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet comfort of it all—it’s too much. too easy.

jeonghan makes a satisfied noise, like he just won something.

you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

"… fine."

his hold loosens, just slightly, but he doesn’t let go completely.

you close your eyes again.

within seconds, sleep pulls you under once more.

—

when morning does come, it’s seungcheol who finds you first.

he had been looking for jeonghan, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight before him.

two people. on the floor. wrapped up in blankets, completely tangled together.

seungcheol stares.

blinks.

presses his fingers to his temples.

"i cannot believe this."

his voice must be louder than he thought because footsteps quickly follow.

"what—" joshua stops mid-step, eyes widening. "oh my god."

seokmin and seungkwan show up next, only to nearly choke trying to hold back laughter.

"you've got to be kidding me," seungkwan hisses, whipping out his phone. "this is gold."

"they look so comfortable," seokmin whisper-yells. "like cozy cozy."

"they’re literally cuddling," mingyu wheezes.

at the sound of voices, jeonghan stirs. scrunches his nose. shifts slightly before cracking one eye open.

he blinks slowly. then—

"… oh."

he’s greeted with at least five members staring at him. some with their arms crossed, some barely holding in laughter, and one (seungkwan) very obviously filming everything.

he processes this for exactly two seconds before he just—

closes his eyes again.

"five more minutes," he mumbles.

there’s a chorus of reactions at that, half in disbelief, half in pure amusement.

"unbelievable," seungcheol mutters, rubbing his temples.

"no, but really," minghao says, poking his head into the room. "why are you guys on the floor?"

jeonghan peeks one eye open again.

then, with the most innocent, smug expression imaginable—

"she looked lonely."

cue absolute chaos.

[rebeccamix]

ha I have a funny story about this as a full-time fantasy author

so back in college, I took a creative writing class and turned in a short story I was very proud of. imagine my confusion when the professor — who I greatly admired and liked! – gave it back with a note saying I had incredible talent, a great command of prose etc, but I really should stop writing fantasy because I was "wasting my time on that genre stuff"

which like, was obviously a bummer to hear as a 20yo, but also! I ignored him. because I liked fantasy! and I wanted to be a fantasy author!

and wouldn't you know it, a few years later, I turned that short story into a book, got an agent with it, sold it to simon & schuster, and it went on to debut as a new york times bestseller. I've since sold eight more books to major publishers; all some form of fantasy, which is great, because this is now my full-time job.

anyways! fast forward to last year. a professor reaches out and asks me to come talk to his classes about writing professionally.

anyone want to take a guess which professor that was? would you guess it was the very same professor that told me to stop writing fantasy now asking me to come give his class advice about writing?

I do still quite like this professor! I happily went and chatted with those kids! But you can bet your ass I also went up to him and asked if he remembered telling me to stop writing fantasy. (He did not, but he did laugh and admitted it sounded like something he would say.)

now, do writers need to read widely? yes!! if you want to write fantasy professionally, you should read and study lit fic, non-fic, poetry, etc – but the flip side is also true. read widely. read all of it. there is so much incredible work being done in different genres. if you're refusing to read it because it's ~commercial~ you're genuinely doing the reader equivalent of only eating a single cracker at a giant Vegas buffet.

if you want to write genre fic, don't let anyone discourage you. hone your craft as you would any other category.

that genre stuff you're wasting your time on might just make your dreams come true.

my creative writing prof also HATES fantasy. as in if she asks for an example of symbolism in a book, and you give something from a fantasy novel, she’ll ask for an example from a “non-commercial book” instead.

I dunno man, people can have preferences, but the second you discount the artistic merit of sci fi and fantasy I stop taking your opinion seriously. and there’s such a big culture in Canada of only valuing literary fiction, to the point where one of our biggest authors, Margaret Atwood, refused for a while to classify her books as sci fi or fantasy. she said they were “speculative fiction”, which is entirely separate and very highbrow (sarcasm).

and I could go on about how Octavia Butler and Ursula Le Guin wrote books every bit as intellectual (and honestly, even more so) than their literary counterparts, but I am also an enjoyer of schlock!! I think there’s artistic merit in animorphs, and in isekais where a japanese schoolgirl reincarnates into a magical spider who has to level up like it’s a video game! it’s like with everything, you can’t draw a clean line that separates ‘art’ from ‘non-art’ or even ‘lesser art’, and pretending you can do so just makes you look ignorant and goofy. in my opinion.

[theemporium]

a luke blurb where him and his gf don't show much pda but quin and jack accidentally walk in on them making out? i feel like it would be really funny

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You and Luke were never big on PDA. 

It wasn’t a conscious choice either of you really made. Truth being told, you never really noticed how ‘un-coupley’ the two of you acted until a friend had pointed it out to you somewhere in the first few weeks of college when they were shocked to learn that you and Luke were a couple. 

But it never bothered you. It wasn’t a big surprise considering the evolution of your relationship with Luke was something that changed gradually over time. You had been attached by the hip since day one, each other’s best friend for as long as anyone could remember. You were always together, always found together, would always be together. There was no one in this world that you would consider your bestest friend over Luke Hughes.

It just so happened that somewhere between the years of high school, that friendship evolved into something a little less platonic. But he was still your best friend. He would always be your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Neither of you acted differently after you got together because nothing in the relationship had really changed after the two of you confessed that night, except for the fact you just happened to make out with him as much as you laughed at the stupid jokes he told.

So even though you and Luke had been together as a couple for the better part of six years, you never really acted like one in front of people. 

Which is why Jack and Quinn tended to be so dramatic whenever the two of you did anything remotely coupley. 

“Did you put sunscreen on today?” 

Luke paused, pulling back and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at you with an incredulous look. “Why the hell are you thinking about sunscreen whilst making out with me?” 

“Because your skin feels really warm,” you retorted, unbothered by the way his lip jutted out with a small pout as you poked the reddening skin on his shoulder. The hiss he let out instantly made you snort. “Fucking knew it.”

“You were hogging the bottle,” Luke retorted, smacking your hand away when you tried to poke him again before it returned to its rightful place on your ass. 

“No, you were more focused on putting sunscreen on me to remember yourself,” you corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, well, you whine so much when you’re sunburnt,” Luke huffed, laughing a little when you lightly smacked his chest. “Kidding, babe, love you.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his and letting out a content noise as he squeezed your ass, pulling you further onto his lap before he pushed his tongue into your mouth and—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES! MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Luke let out a heavy sigh, his head falling against your shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking time.” 

“Gross, guys,” Quinn frowned at the sight of you two on the sunlounger whilst Jack dramatically continued to gag behind him. “So gross.” 

“What happened to the two of you doing a grocery run in the town?” You questioned, making no move to shift off your boyfriend’s lap, though his hands moved to rest on your waist now. 

“We did it and came back already to find you—” Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest as he shuddered. “Defiling the furniture.” 

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled.

You snorted. “As if you didn’t do much worse three summers ago when I saw you and that girl on the boat—” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “LALALA! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT!” 

Quinn whirled around to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck did you do on the boat?” 

Luke grinned, turning to look at you as his brothers continued to bicker in the background. “It’s kinda hot when you blackmail people.” 

You grinned back. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “Wanna show me how hot? Preferably in a room with a lock so we don’t have to repeat of the other day.” 

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Quinn should learn to knock. That is not our fault.”

.

[a-compass-without-a-needle]

This is what happened after 3.1 isn't it?

[hazel2468]

I’ll never forget the day that I went out for dinner with my grandmother- I picked her up and drove her and it was so nice. But we went out, and when she got up to use the bathroom, I ordered our drinks. She LOVES diet coke, and I do too. So I ordered two diet cokes.

The waitress looked at me funny, rolled her eyes. And when she came back with our sodas, I insisted on tasting them both.

Yep. Regular coke.

Fun fact about my grandma. She’s diabetic. Has been for a long time. So she drinks diet sodas. I got my love of diet coke from her because I first tried soda at her house, and it was her diet coke. So I call our waitress over and tell her that this is regular, not diet. And after a bit of back and forth she says “Well, it’s not like it matters.” while looking at me.

I’m fat, for the record. And I cannot tell you how many people are rude or dismissive or even laugh and make “bit late for that!” Comments when I order diet soda. I get diet coke because I like it better than regular.

My grandmother was sitting there and had to hold up her medical alert bracelet and inform this woman that she is DIABETIC and needs diet soda. I was about ready to start a fucking fight.

Don’t be a jackass. Just don’t. Because you may think you’re being clever and sticking it to the fatty or the skinny bitch or whoever had the AUDACITY to ask for something “trendy” or for a diet that they’re “too late” for. But you could be fucking killing someone. And no matter how big of a dickwad you are. I really don’t think you want that blood on your hands.

DO NOT DO THIS.

This makes me so angry.

If you work in a movie theater and you do this I have no respect for you.

My younger brother is Type 1 Diabetic.

When we go to a movie theater, we always get him diet soda. If he were to get regular when we asked for diet, we would not give him the insulin he would need for it. If that happens, his blood sugar level could go so high he could go into a coma, go blind, or even die.

If somebody gave him regular soda instead of diet without telling us, that person could be responsible for a nine-year-old being killed or blinded.

Just thinking about that makes me so angry. I get scared every time we take him to a movie in case the people working there saw this picture and decide to do the same thing.

Please signal boost this so people know.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗜𝗙 𝗜 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 max verstappen x  fem! lawyer! reader (angst) fic summary . . . when max meets with a lawyer to try and fight back against the FIA for getting community service fines, he discovers he might have accidentally swapped dreams with someone (704 words)

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place that was meant to look expensive without actually trying too hard. Max shifted in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he watched you skim through the document in front of you, your brows slightly furrowed.

This was awkward.

He wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he had been fined for swearing in a press conference again or the fact that the FIA had thrown in community service hours like he was some reckless teenager caught speeding in a school zone.

Lando had laughed when he found out. "You’re gonna need a lawyer if you wanna fight back, mate," he had grinned, not even trying to hide his amusement. "I know someone. She’s brilliant. I’ll send you her number."

And now here you were, sitting across from him in a restaurant in Monaco, having driven over from Nice to help him deal with his punishment.

"So," you finally said, flipping the page. "Two hundred thousand euros and twenty-five hours of FIA-approved community service before December 31st."

Max exhaled through his nose. "I only said one bad word."

You looked up, amusement flickering across your face. "As soon as I went into qualifying I knew the car was fucked . . .  Max, you swore at your own car."

"Because it was fucked." He reasoned, shrugging at the topic like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

You chuckled, shaking your head before jotting something down in your notes. Max watched, taking a sip of his gin toic, not quite sure what to say next. He wasn’t used to lawyers. He wasn’t used to needing lawyers.

"You know," he starts, voice low, almost swallowed by the hum of the piano in the background. "If my dad hadn't pushed me to stay in karting, I think I would've been a lawyer."

You huff a laugh, one that tastes like irony. "Yeah? If my parents hadn’t forced me to finish school and go into law, I think I would've been a driver."

Max blinked.

Your sour words made him look up from his glass. His blue eyes—fierce in every race replay you've ever forced yourself not to watch—are softer here, dimmed under the low lights of a restaurant that neither of you belong in. "Seriously?"

You nod, taking a sip. "Yeah. I wanted it. The speed, the competition, the whole thing. Wanted to move up into single-seaters, F1 eventually, you know? The dream. But my family . . .” You exhale. "They thought racing was a hobby. Law was the real future."

“I’m in Formula One,” Max stated, looking at you with his head tilted. He felt it was as if he stole your dream.

“I can see that, Max,” you chuckled, lifting the file the FiA had given him as proof.

Max leans back, shaking his head with a smirk that's more tired than amused. "Funny. My dad thought law was stupid. Racing was the real future."

The piano plays on, and neither of you say anything for a moment. It’s not awkward. Just . . . heavy. Like you're both listening to ghosts of the past, telling you how things should have been.

"You still watch?" he asks eventually, his voice careful.

You shrug. "Not really." A lie. You watched enough to know his career, his wins, the way he makes magic out of machinery. "You still read about law?"

His lips press together, considering. "Sometimes." A lie. You bet he still thinks about it when he reads contracts, when he argues with his team, when he wonders if he could've been just as ruthless in a courtroom as he is on a track.

"Do you ever think about it?" you ask. "If you'd had the choice?"

Max smiles then, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "All the time."

The music plays on. The waiter refills your glass. Outside, the world moves forward, fast as ever, like it never had to choose between two lives. But here, in this quiet little nowhere, you and Max sit with your what-ifs, sharing a quiet conversation about what to do moving forward and how to get rid of the fine and community service fine, the ghosts of who you could've been watch over your shoulders.

[pluckyredhead]

Do you think Dick has a favourite brother?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. I'M GOING TO ANSWER IT AT UNNECESSARY LENGTH.

But for the tl;dr crowd: yes, 1000000%. It's Damian. Dick would not admit this under pain of death, even to himself, but it's Damian.

THE LONG VERSION:

So Dick and Jason are not close and never have been. I always sort of blink in bewilderment when people say they are, or were when Jason was Robin, because they are demonstrably not, and that's what's interesting and tragic about them.

The fact of the matter is that Dick simply wasn't around very much when Jason was Robin. The Doyleist reason for this is that he wasn't really being treated like a Bat character: he was a Titans character, appearing in Titans books, with only the occasional cameo in Batbooks. He and Jason get along very well in Jason's first origin story (when Jason was a circus acrobat and his parents were eaten by crocodiles); in fact, Dick tells Bruce he wants to adopt Jason and Bruce is like "Not if I adopt him first!" But after that, Dick simply...wasn't there very often.

If you need a Watsonian reason for this, it's pretty easy to extrapolate one. Dick and Bruce were not getting along well during this period, so of course Dick would avoid Bruce and Gotham. And yeah, I think it's fair to assume Dick felt some kind of complicated feelings about Bruce having a new Robin, especially post-Crisis when Bruce made Jason Robin without Dick having any say or even a warning that it was going to happen. I tend to headcanon that he resented Jason a little, but was mature enough to know that it wasn't actually Jason's fault, and partially decided to stay away so that he didn't take that out on Jason. But Jason, a smart and sensitive kid, interpreted this as Dick avoiding him because he didn't like him.

And then Jason died.

Dick took that hard, and I think it was less "my brother who I had a close relationship with died" and more "this child followed in my footsteps and it killed him and I wasn't even there for him when I had the chance." To me, that absolutely forms the subtext of the relationship he develops with Tim.

Not at the start. At the start, once "A Lonely Place of Dying" is over, he's as checked out with Tim as he was with Jason. The Doyleist reason is the same - Dick literally just wasn't supposed to be in Batbooks too much - but the way it plays out is sometimes really funny in an awful way. Like in and just after Knightfall, when Bruce gets his back broken by Bane and is like "I've known Jean-Paul Valley for two weeks and he barely has any training, most of it done by my extremely new 13-year-old Robin...I think I'll make him Batman." And then Tim's dad and Tim's dad's doctor, Shondra Kinsolving, get kidnapped, and since Bruce has been aggressively romantically pursuing Shondra to the point of it being uncomfortable and inappropriate, he's like "Okay going to rescue Shondra! I mean, your dad! I'm taking Alfred with me! Tim, you're in charge of Gotham and Jean-Paul byeeeeee!" And then JPV immediately gets unhinged and violent and tries to kill Tim and Tim keeps calling Alfred like "Um can you please come back and help" and Alfred's like "No" and Tim's like "Okay well did you at least rescue my dad?" and Alfred's like "Also no." Anyway Dick finally comes to Gotham and Tim is like "THANK GOD, HELP, BRUCE MADE AZRAEL BATMAN AND HE'S TRYING TO KILL EVERYONE, I NEED AN ADULT" and Dick is like "He made someone who isn't me Batman??? 😡😡😡" and then just...fucks off back to New York and leaves Tim to deal with it. Very out of character, VERY funny.

BUT ANYWAY. Then we get to around 1996 and 1. Dick is no longer on the Titans which has a whole new lineup and 2. there's an editorial shift emphasizing the Batfamily. This is where the line really expands: Robin (started in 1993, but still pretty new), Nightwing, Birds of Prey, Azrael, eventually Gotham Knights in 1999 and Batgirl in 2000. Dick moves to Bludhaven and spends way more time in Gotham.

This is when Dick looks at Tim, says "Is anyone gonna big brother that?" and doesn't wait for an answer. All of a sudden he's behaving in a way that suddenly feels in character for him (although the idea of Dick as a big brother/mentor...really wasn't a thing for him prior to this era, so it's more of a new development that feels correct in retrospect). He's training Tim, he's giving him advice, he's teasing him about girls, he's coming up with inside jokes, he's giving him noogies. It's like he watched a bunch of 80s sitcoms to learn how to be a big brother and applied his research accordingly.

And Tim? Tim absolutely blossoms under the attention. Tim, who has been adultified by every other adult in his life since he was, like, eight, is getting treated like a kid. Tim, whose parents are never around, and don't pay attention when they are around, has an adult he looks up to who wants to spend time with him, for fun. Tim, who has hero worshipped Dick Grayson since he was...well, according to the math, he was one (1) year old so let's ignore the math, but he was small, is now basking in the full force of Dick Grayson's off-the-charts charisma. This is the best thing that has ever happened to Tim. This is the dream.

I want to be clear here: I think Dick's extreme reversal here is a delayed reaction to Jason's death, but I don't want to imply that he doesn't care about Tim as an individual. He loves Tim as much as Tim loves him. Tim's good opinion is incredibly important to him. This relationship goes both ways.

Annnnd then both of their lives fall apart extremely rapidly, and Damian shows up, and Bruce dies. And Dick tries to get out of it, but ultimately it ends how it has to: with him accepting the mantle of Batman, and responsibility for Damian.

The relationship Dick has with Damian is nothing like the relationship Dick has with Tim. Tim is his little bro. Damian is his baby. He's fourteen years older than Damian and as much of a parent figure as a sibling figure. And Damian is difficult and exhausting but Dick slowly, slowly coaxes a degree of trust and affection out of him that even Bruce will never achieve. And he can only do that by making Damian Robin, which means Tim has to stop being Robin.

This is where Dick and Tim fall apart, because what they need in this very vulnerable moment is so diametrically opposed, and neither of them are wrong. To Dick, asking Tim to step down - or up, from Dick's perspective - from being Robin is a compliment. Dick fought to free himself from Bruce, to become his own man with his own name, and so asking Tim to do the same thing is a show of faith in Tim, in his skills and experience.

Whereas Tim's hero-worship has always been for Robin, not Batman, and every glimpse he has had of a future beyond Robin has always been a dystopia. But more importantly, Tim has just lost his father, his stepmother, his mentor, his girlfriend, and his two best friends. He desperately needs to be able to lean on Dick, the grown-up he admires the most, and instead, Dick is kicking him out of the nest.

In other words: Dick is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "I need you to help me by being a fellow adult." And Tim is saying, with all the love and trust in his heart, "But I need you to be my adult." And they both get a no.

This is water under the bridge now, and they've healed even though they've never really talked it through because Bats don't do that (although what I wouldn't give for a Nightwing/Red Robin miniseries where they do everything but talk about it). But I do think Tim looks at the closeness and affection between Dick and Damian and feels some kind of way about it to this day, because it's so clear to everyone that Damian is Dick's favorite...but Tim remembers when he was Dick's favorite. And what Tim doesn't see is that Dick values him as a genuine partner in a way he will never quite achieve with Damian, because to him, Damian will always be his baby, even more so than he is Bruce's. (Dick is Bruce's baby, actually, not Damian. In this essay I will...)

(I could see a really interesting dynamic developing between Jason and Tim here, as the ones on the outside of that mutual appreciation society, but sadly the comics have never gone there. Alas.)

Finally, I think the relationship between Dick and Duke is very much "I just work here." Like, Dick is grown, he's out of the house, he's largely matured past the Bat-drama. He likes Duke but he doesn't feel the compulsion to brother him the way he did with Tim, and Duke doesn't need the mother henning Damian did.

IN CONCLUSION, and hooboy, sorry anon, most of this wasn't at all the question you asked:

Duke and Dick get along fine but aren't particularly close.

Damian is Dick's precious baby and always will be, even when Damian is an adult and annoyed by this treatment (but privately kind of loves it because he is a princess at heart).

Tim is Dick's buddy, his pal, his equal. If Dick were ever going to talk something through with a sibling, it would be Tim. (But that would require Dick admitting that everything isn't perfect or asking for help, so it'll never happen.)

Jason and Dick can't be in a room together for five minutes without fighting and Dick finds him wildly frustrating, but they will throw down for each other. When they aren't punching each other.

(And to answer the corollary: Damian's favorite brother is Dick. Tim's favorite brother is also Dick. Duke's favorite brother is Tim by default, since he doesn't know Dick very well and Jason and Damian are both too annoying, but really he's closest with Cass. Jason's favorite brother is Ace and he has communicated that often and loudly (but really it's probably also Dick).)

[akawifeyy]

silly girl | smau (LN4)

description: the life of a comedian is full of laughter, but the biggest punchline? your experience with love.

tropes: chaos galore, he's obsessed with her, sunshine x sunshine, age gap (23 and 25), comedian!fem!reader

face claim: faith collins

trigger warnings: suggestive content, some mature jokes, swearing

| note: hehehe i love this fic 🫶

@ yourusername: dallas was incredible, i had the best time laughing with you all! a recorded video of tonight's show is posted at the link in my bio if you couldn't make it. see you next weekend in austin 😘

tagged: @ standupcomedy

comments (2567):

@ user1: Amazing shows! I went to Night 2 and I couldn't breathe, I was laughing so hard. Wish I bought tickets for the other two nights.

-> @ user2: sooo real, i got to see her in miami and i felt like my heart was going to explode from laughing

@ user3: Incredible job, so proud 💖

@ user4: Mother has fed us during this tour, I never want it to end

@ yourbffusername: SCREAMING CRYING, I love you SO much Y/N

@ f1: Just 3 more days until COTA! How are you gearing up for the Grand Prix?

tagged: @ mclaren, @ mercedes, @ redbullracing, & 6 more

comments (49584):

@ landonorris: Can't wait to be a cowboy again 🤠

@ user5: COTAAAA MY BELOVED

@ user6: so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@ user7: No because I'm actually a second away from crashing out because I just realized @ yourusername's show is at the same time as the Austin GP

-> @ user8: wait nonono you're joking 😭 i bought tickets too

10/19/25 at Y/N's Show (Transcript):

Y/N L/N: I feel like if I don't bring this up, the masses are going to come at me with pitchforks. (clearing throat) Today's a pretty big day in Austin. Um, Formula One is having its COTA Grand Prix.

Audience members: (whooping)

Y/N L/N: Yeah, looks like we have quite a few F1 fans in here. I'd kind of consider myself one, but please don't ask me what DRS stands for off the top of my head or what Ferrari's strategies are during races, because I wouldn't be able to tell you. But anyways, I found out that I scheduled this show at the same time as the GP.

Audience member: (loud yelling noise)

Y/N L/N: (breaks down laughing) Yep, I know. I'm sorry. I didn't realize. But I totally get it. Seeing a bunch of rich, hot men drive around in circles? Like, aw man, where did my pants go? I swear they were just on. (continues giggling) Seriously, though, some of those drivers? It should be illegal how attractive they are. Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris. Oh God, don't even get me started on Lando Norris.

Y/N L/N: (eyes widen dramatically) I never liked brunettes or Englishmen, but he might just make me change my mind.

Interview with Lando Norris (2025):

Interviewer: Have you seen the clips from Y/N L/N's most recent comedy show here in Austin?

Lando Norris: (laughs) Yes, I heard about it!

Interviewer: Thoughts?

Lando Norris: She's very funny. I like her sense of humor. But as for relationships, I have to focus on my racing, so I can't get distracted. Sorry!

10/20/25 at Y/N's Show (Transcript):

Y/N L/N: So... Yesterday's show. (makes popping sound with lips) Some of y'all, I feel like I need to ban you – and before you boo, let me explain why. I made jokes about Formula One drivers, and how hot they are, and a select few of you decided to out me? (mock gasp)

Y/N L/N: Yeah, I know! Fucking Lando Norris was interviewed about me! Isn't that insane? This ultra-rich motor sport driver was asked about some redhead girl who yaps for a living. And he called me funny? I need to put this on my resume.

Audience member: You two need to date!

Y/N L/N: The matchmaking is insane. Oh God, wait until my mother hears about this, then I'm actually cooked. I'm 23 years old, I have a lot of biological time left, but you're vultures! When is it going to end? And don't say, "When you get married to Lando Norris", because it's not happening. Sadly.

@ ynupdates: Contrary to popular belief, Y/N did have a boyfriend! This was way back in 2019 to 2022. His name is Emmett Ellgren, and they dated for three years until their mutual split. Since then, Y/N has poked fun at the relationship, but no substantial details have been released about their break up.

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (2942):

@ user9: HELP i forgot about emmett he's such an npc 😮‍💨

@ user10: emmett is no longer relevant to the lore

-> @ user2: The real man we should be paying attention to is Lando Norris

-> @ user8: i know omg 😭

comments (3842):

@ user11: They're both silly gooses, I'm scared to see the havoc they'll wreak together in McLaren 🥲

@ user12: i'll believe it when i see it

@ user13: Lando is too immature to have a stable girlfriend

-> @ user3: which is why Y/N's perfect, they'll be immature together 🥰

-> @ user4: This just proves you've never watched one of Y/N's shows before lmao

Y/N's Instagram Story (2025):

comments (8521):

@ user13: OMG OMG OMG IT'S STARTING

-> @ user14: I'm so glad I get to be alive during the LandoY/N era

@ user12: It'll be so funny if this turns out to be from Oscar or something 🙃

-> @ user15: HELP

Text Messages between Y/N and Lando (2025):

@ landonorris: P3 in Mexico! Awesome results

tagged: @ mclaren, @ f1, @ yourusername

comments (64312):

@ user16: ALERT ALERT Y/N HAS BEEN TAGGED

@ user13: guys i'm actually gonna combust 🫣🔥

-> @ user17: They're together, it has to be

@ yourusername: nice sombrero 😋

-> @ landonorris: Thank you!!!

Text Messages between Y/N and Lando (2025):

@ yourusername: hola mexico 🇲🇽

tagged: @ landonorris

comments (3846):

@ yourbffusername: Looks so fun!

-> @ yourusername: yes it was incredible

@ user10: laaandoooo i see you 👀

@ user18: How does it feel to be living my dream

@ landonorris: So glad you could make it, had a lot of fun talking to you

@ f1gossip: It is rumored that comedian Y/N L/N and McLaren driver Lando Norris are together, after Y/N posted a photo of her receiving paddock passes, and the pair responded to one another's posts about the Mexico Grand Prix.

tagged: @ yourusername, @ landonorris

comments (1293):

@ user9: i'm waitinggg

@ user10: this is worse than the wait for reputation tv

-> @ user18: clowning so hard i know 😖

@ user19: HAVE ANY OF YOU GUYS SEEN LANDO'S INSTA STORY? 🤯

Lando's Deleted Instagram Story:

comments (235):

@ user20: OMGOMGDSDKLSDDNS

@ user21: my eyes are not deceiving me, this is y/n

@ user5: Y/N IS THAT YOU 😳

@ landonorris: OK OK yes I give in, we are together. Happy one month, @ yourusername, I love you to the moon and back!

tagged: @ yourusername

comments (34852):

@ user21: classic Lando accidentally posting the wrong thing and outing himself

-> @ user22: idk what else we would expect from chaos incarnate 😭

@ yourusername: love you too, muppet 😘

Interview with Lando Norris (2025):

Interviewer: So, you've just recently announced that you're dating Y/N L/N!

Lando Norris: Yes, I'm really happy about it.

Interviewer: Any plans to bring her to the next race?

Lando Norris: Maybe, we'll see. (laughs and smiles) The paddock is a lot cheerier when she's there, so hopefully, fingers crossed. I'm very, very lucky to call her mine.

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[skylar36]

I did have a time in high school where I felt like I “wasn’t me” anymore on my meds. I felt empty inside every time I took it and at some point something happened that scared me off then entirely. I’m usually very quick to smile and laugh and one day I got to school and was having breakfast with my friends and they were talking around me. I wanted to join in, but didn’t really feel like my heart was in it. And then someone said something I know for a fact I would usually find funny. I wanted to laugh. All I could manage was a fake smile. And then I realized that I couldn’t make myself smile.

This was so scary for me because I am not like that. I am a joyful person. I’m an optimist by nature. And to have my joy stripped from me was so terrifying that I started only taking my meds to help me focus during tests.

I forgot that it was an option to talk to my mom and my doctor to say hey these meds don’t work for me. I forgot that there were other meds to try. I had been on these meds for so long and I guess that discussion about them was so long ago that I just forgot that the pill everyone associates with my diagnosis is not the only one out there.

I told my mom about it during a fight a few months later and she was like “wtf why didn’t you tell me, let’s just take you to the doctor and try a different dose or medication” and I was like “I can do that?” And she was genuinely bewildered that I didn’t know that was an option.

Anyway I’m now on something that works much better for me to work, but I still struggle to do anything at home and I don’t know how much of that is me needing to change my own habits and how much of that is that my pill wears off when I get home and I have no motivations again. I’ll figure it out eventually.

Moral of the story for me kids, remember that you have options. The pill that you take first is the start of a journey of trial and error. Your journey could be very short, or it could be very long. You could keep going in a straight line with the same pill for a very long time before you find yourself twisting in a new direction. Or you could find yourself picking a new path at every fork in the road.

All of that is okay. Take your time on your journey. You will find your peace. It may come with a pill, it may come with a therapy, it may come with newfound connections or deepening old ones. You will be okay.

90s movies: Psychopharmacology is as good as a lobotomy. If you take pills to treat your mental illness it will literally murder your imaginary friends and you will become a boring, lotus-eating conformist drone.

Me after taking my meds: drives the scenic route home to see if there are any geese on the pond and does a little dance in line at the grocery store and comes home to throw everything​ in my fridge into a stew pot because I can finally taste food again while singing songs at my birds in which I replace all the instances of "she" with "Cheese" and doing a Dolly Parton impression on the phone to my sister

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

waitwait guys LOL. if neglected reader goes with slade what if we dont make him evil pedo. like harsh at times but not horrible. LIKE ITS SO FUNNY TO IMAGINE HIM AS JUST THIS SAD FUCKINF DIVORCED DAD THAT LOST CUSTODY OF HIS KIDS CUS THATS WHAT HAPPENED.

Slade (after shooting some guy): *sigh* i miss my wife tails reader…

Reader living best life now away from shitty family and taken in by merc with bagillion dollars: cowabummer.

I love this idea so much! I hate when Slade is like the dream of DC Comics, because he's so much better as a villain. without being a freak.

Slade, who is crying about his life, while the reader enjoys traveling to different countries, even if it means getting the hit on someone—their relationship reminds me of Big Daddy and Hit-Girl from Kick-Ass (which should have been Slade and Rose's relationship, but I digress). The reader, who is super playful, contrasts with a sad old man who misses his wife and kids, while the reader seeks a father figure. Slade doesn't deserve the reader's kindness, their happiness, or their warm embraces, but they still offer them, even though they know what kind of man he is. Slade's whole thing is "blood is thicker than mud," but for some reason, he has close ties with a kid that's not his. He teases you for not being able to pick up an AK-47, and you tease him for not being able to bend his knees due to back pain. You often make fun of him by asking if he needs to go to a retirement home. Next thing you know, you're getting the worst training regimen of your life. You're wheezing by the time you're done, and he's there with barely a lick of sweat on his body. You’re going to hurt the old geezer, and the Batfam is having the biggest mental breakdown, especially Dick, when he catches you wearing the same suit Slade gave him when he was still in the Teen Titans (the Slade suit Dick had in the OG Teen Titans). Bruce is shocked at how the two of you are so in sync; it’s like he's getting double-teamed in an MK game. You're taunting them with Slade at your side—how dare Bruce call you his child? He doesn’t have that right! How dare Damian call you his sibling? You're closer to Respawn than he is. Steph and Cass are acting like your sisters. Please, you and Rose are closer than the braids in your hair! To add insult to injury, you dyed half of your hair white to match his. Think of Death—the kid with stripes on the left side of your hair. I mean, with his white hair, he could definitely pass for Lord Death.

[krazycat6167]

Say No

(written for @keferon’s Apocalyptic Ponyo AU. A bit of Jazz and Prowl set after most of the events of the au. Enjoy!)

-.-.-.-

Prowl watches from the sidelines as Jazz goes through yet another interview. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something off with Jazz. That there is something that isn’t right. 

Oh sure, Jazz looks happy, but Prowl doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust it though, so he’s scrutinizing Jazz and his behavior to try and figure it out. 

The other orca mer is smiling, talking as animated as he usually does (though notably trying to be polite by staying in one general area), using his hands as he speaks. Those are normal Jazz things to do, even if he seems a bit…more Jazz-y? He’s using a bit more inflection, slightly more exaggerated movements, a smidge extra charm behind the smile. The effect is entertaining, sure, but-.

But…he is…being entertaining. He is here, in an interview, answering questions both benign and personal, and he is putting on a show. 

Prowl’s gaze flicks around the room. Multiple cameras, stage lights, a dazzled audience. 

The interviewer, masterfully directing Jazz through the narrative with light and heavy topics and making sure to end on a high note. 

Jazz, big movements, big personality, put on display like a thing to be marveled at. 

A large grin that had been bothering Prowl the whole time because it is wrong. And now he knows it’s because it is fake. 

When the interview ends and Jazz swims offstage, Prowl takes his arm and leads him away. Away from the crowds, the lights, the cameras. Just away. From everything. Anyone who even thinks of approaching the two as they leave take one look at Prowl's hard expression and become too scared to even try. 

“While I enjoy swimming with you,” Jazz says when they are properly away from everyone, “is there a reason we left so quick?”

“You were uncomfortable.” Prowl answers. 

“Is that so?” Jazz says, amused. 

Prowl stops and turns to Jazz, stopping the other mer cold with a hard stare. “Yes, you were. You were putting on a show like it was still an obligation you owed for living somewhere when in reality you don’t owe anyone anything of yourself that you don’t want to give.”

The fact that Jazz looks shocked by this makes Prowl’s heart clench painfully. 

Prowl takes both of Jazz’s large hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he says while giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “that I didn’t see it sooner. You did so many interviews and I didn’t see how similar they were to that tank until now.”

“Wha- hey, no,” Jazz brings their hands closer to his chest. “don’t apologize for this when it wasn’t even your fault. They asked to hear my story and-“

“And you could’ve told them no.” Prowl interrupts. “You don’t have to do these things anymore. You can say no. You can leave off you want. You aren’t confined to a small space anymore with no escape and no privacy. You can say no.”

“I- I can say no.” Jazz whispers like it’s revelation straight from the vents below. “I can leave.”

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want.”

Jazz floats there, clutching Prowls hands to his chest like they’re a lifeline, as his gaze drifts down in thought. “What I want…”

Slowly, Jazz looks up at Prowl. “I want you to show me that Crystal Reef you were talking about.”

Prowl smiles. “This way then.”

-.-.-.-

Two of the things Jazz loves about Mer society are the pouches that he can carry stuff—his stuff—in and the phones. After years of seeing humans use them (filming him, taking pictures of him), he now has one of his very own. An underwater phone, a fish phone, a fone (“It’s funny Prowler, trust me.”). It’s awesome!

Not very awesome right this second though. 

It’s vibrating, meaning someone is calling him. The screen only shows a frequency instead of a name, meaning it’s someone he doesn’t know. 

He sees Prowl look at him curiously from where he’s been sunbathing next to him as Jazz answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello! I am Undertow, a reporter with The Tuning Trident. Is this Jazz?”

Jazz sits up. “Yeah, I’m Jazz.”

“Excellent!” Undertow says, chipper. “We have been working on an article covering your story and the trials you went through. We here at The Tuning Trident are dedicated to bringing our readers the most accurate information that we can provide and we were wondering if you could come over sometime within the next few days to answer a few questions we have about your experience.”

Jazz freezes. He…doesn’t really want to talk about it with reporters anymore. He’ll just have to politely turn them down. 

Jazz opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His throat is suddenly dry. He swallows his trepidation and tries again. “Uh…”

Is that it? Is that all he can bring himself to say that isn’t a fake and enthusiastic agreement?

The reporter on the phone starts talking again. “Of course, if coming in is an inconvenience, we can have a small team come to you to conduct the interview. We are very flexible here, so whatever may be best for you, we can certainly work with!”

That was even worse! He didn’t want nosy strangers coming to his favorite spots!

But he still can’t say no. 

His gaze flicks to Prowl, desperately and silently pleading for help. 

Prowl sits up and holds his hand open to Jazz. Jazz gives him the phone. 

“I regret to inform you,” Prowl says with no regret or remorse, “that Jazz won’t be doing any interviews for the time being.”

“It’ll just be a quick thing.” Undertow promises in a small tinny voice that Jazz can still hear. “Only a couple of questions to clarify a few facts.”

“No.”

“I- but- who is this? Who are you to speak for Jazz?”

“His manager.” Prowl's tone turns cold. “He is not available for an interview at this time.”

“Why not?”

“Jazz has his reasons and he doesn’t owe them to you. Good day.”

“Wait, if you could just tell us-“

“No.” Prowl hangs up. “The nerve of some Mer, it’s like they forgot that you're an apex- urk!”

Jazz hugs him, eyes shut tight, tucking his head into Prowl’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice wobbly. 

Prowl returns the hug, using one hand to cradle Jazz’s head. “Of course. You deserve some peace.”

“I tried.” Jazz says to Prowl’s shoulder. “I wanted to say no. I tried but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get that one word out and I tried.”

“I know.” Prowl pats Jazz’s head through his beanie. “It’s okay. You keep trying. And until you are able, I can say no for you whenever you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[kaxserlvr]

It was just another day at school, nothing out of the ordinary—until your friend decided to open her big mouth.

“You’re having a sleepover at Rin’s house?” she whispered, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh my god, is it because you want to see Sae?”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you slapped a hand over her mouth, glancing around in panic. “Shut up! I don’t like Sae!” you hissed.

Unfortunately, Rin had overheard.

You didn’t miss the way his eye twitched slightly, or how he clicked his tongue in irritation before shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but the sharp glare he sent your way was enough to make your stomach twist.

Still, you brushed it off. Rin was always annoyed at something.

—

Later that night, the two of you sat on his couch, the dim glow of the TV illuminating the room. The horror movie playing was meant to be the main focus, but the atmosphere felt different tonight.

Rin was quiet—more than usual. He was leaning back, arms crossed, his jaw tight as his sharp teal eyes stayed glued to the screen. His entire presence felt… tense.

You had a feeling you knew why.

Deciding to test the waters, you smirked, turning toward him. “Hey, Rin?”

He barely glanced at you. “What?”

“You know…” You stretched out on the couch, faking nonchalance. “You know I’ve been thinking..Sae is kinda hot think you should set us up.”

It was meant to be a joke—just to annoy him. But the reaction you got was nothing short of deadly.

In a second, Rin had you pinned down against the couch.

Your breath hitched.

His hands pressed against your wrists, his body hovering just above yours, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His teal eyes darkened, sharp and unreadable, but filled with something that made your stomach flip.

“You think that’s funny?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You swallowed, heart pounding. “I was just messing with you.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening just slightly before one of his hands moved—trailing up to cup your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he muttered, but there was something else in his tone—something rough, something possessive.

The weight of him above you, the intensity in his eyes—it was suffocating, intoxicating, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Rin…” Your voice came out smaller than you intended.

His eyes flickered to your lips.

You barely had time to process it before he dipped his head lower, his breath warm against your skin. He wasn’t kissing you—but he was close, so close that if you moved even a little, your lips would brush.

“Say something about Sae again,” he murmured, his voice sending heat straight to your core.

You parted your lips, struggling to find your voice, but nothing came out.

Rin smirked a bit . “That’s what I thought.”

And then, just as suddenly as he’d trapped you, he let go, standing up as if nothing had happened??!.

You sat up quickly, your entire body buzzing with adrenaline. “You-”

“Go to sleep,” he muttered, heading toward his room. “Before you piss me off even more.”

You were left alone on the couch, your heart racing, your skin burning, and the realization that you’d never be able to look at Rin the same way again.(and maybe it’s a good thing)