#trying to stop my negative self talk/thoughts

[chaeuvy]

Hiya!! I love your wbk works!!! May I request nsfw umi with inexperienced anxious reader!! I know he would be the sweetest

Don’t forget to drink water and take breaks!!

- 💫anon

⸝⸝ ＃┆ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄! ⎯ 𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

summary: After his friends make a joke about their sex life, [Name] can’t stop overthinking. She and Hajime have been together for a while, but they’ve never gone further than kissing — and now, self-conscious and anxious, she starts to wonder if he’s getting tired of waiting. That night, when he stays over, she finally decides to be honest about what she wants… even if it scares her.

warnings: first Time, fem!reader is Nervous, soft dom Umemiya Hajime, Gentle Sex, emotional comfort, aftercare, oral (m → f), fingering, virgin Reader, Anxiety, Reassuring Partner, soft dirty talk, penetration (m → f), (Established Relationship, crying during sex (not negative).

wc: 5.9k words.

💫 anon: thank you so much for the request ! It was my first time in ages writing a request, I hope I did okay and it turned out like you imagined it ! <3

It was one of those lazy golden evenings, the kind that made the cracked pavement glow and turned even the loudest engine roars into background noise. The Bofurin boys were gathered outside the usual convenience store, sprawled across their bikes and stacked milk crates, trash-talking each other over cans of soda and half-eaten snacks.

You were tucked under Umemiya Hajime’s arm, legs curled up on the curb, sipping a melon soda and trying not to overthink how his fingers occasionally rubbed slow circles into your shoulder. He always touched you like that — casual, comforting. Familiar.

“Oi, Umemiya!” Suo shouted through a mouthful of chips, grinning like a devil. “Don’t think we didn’t notice [Name] looking all dazed earlier. What, you finally put those pretty-boy muscles to use?”

Laughter broke out instantly. Togame whistled low, while Toma choked on his drink. You stiffened slightly, your heart lurching, but tried to keep your face neutral.

Umemiya laughed — that loud, slightly nasal cackle of his — and tilted his head back.

“Oi oi,” he said with a grin, tightening his arm around your shoulder. “I’m a gentleman, ya know. I ain’t some wild dog.”

Someone muttered something about “liar,” and Umemiya just kept chuckling, shaking his head like it didn’t matter. He didn’t seem embarrassed. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t… correct them.

You forced a smile, but your fingers tightened around the soda can. Your stomach was twisting.

Because the truth was… you hadn’t done anything. Not really. Kissing, sure. And once or twice, things had gotten a little heated — wandering hands, breathless moments where you thought maybe it would go further — but you always pulled back. And he never pushed. Not once.

Still, something about how easily he’d brushed the comment off, how natural he looked laughing with the guys like it wasn’t a big deal, made something sink in your chest.

When the sun finally dipped below the skyline and everyone started peeling off, you tugged at his sleeve as he swung a leg over his bike.

“Hey,” you murmured, forcing your voice to sound light. “Wanna stay over tonight?”

He paused for half a second, eyes flicking to your face. There was a beat — not suspicion, but something close. Something quietly attentive. But he just gave a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Course I do.”

The door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing a little too loud in the quiet apartment.

You padded toward your room without saying much, tugging your hoodie sleeves over your hands like they could muffle the pounding in your chest. Umemiya followed at a slower pace, always letting you lead — not just physically. Emotionally, too. That was the thing about him. He was easy to be around… but sometimes that made it harder.

You sat on the edge of your bed, legs drawn up, arms around your knees. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was… fragile.

Umemiya was still by the door, pulling off his jacket, then his hoodie — loose tank top underneath. Muscles flexing naturally. You watched him from the corner of your eye, heart thudding. You wanted him. That was never the issue. You wanted him so badly it made your hands shake sometimes. But— wanting didn’t make the fear go away.

You turned your eyes down to your lap, staring at your fingers twisted in the fabric of your sleeves. Why couldn’t you just do something? Say something? Reach for him, pull him down to the bed and kiss him until you both forgot how long it had been. How far you hadn’t gone.

You bit your lip, hard.

Maybe he was tired of it. Of you. The thought twisted sharp in your gut. He laughed when the guys made that joke. Didn’t even correct them. Didn’t say, “Nah, we haven’t done that yet.” Just smiled like it didn’t matter. Like it was easier to let them think you had.

God, what if he was only waiting to be polite? What if he was bored of waiting? What if he was getting tired of you?

Your chest tightened, breath hitching without warning. You didn’t mean to sniffle, but it happened, and you quickly wiped your face on your sleeve, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

But of course, he had.

You felt the shift in the bed before you saw him — the dip of the mattress beside you as he sat down, careful, like he didn’t want to startle you.

“…Hey,” Umemiya said softly, voice losing that lazy, teasing edge he used with everyone else. It was just him now. Just Hajime.

You still didn’t look up.

He waited a beat, then nudged your knee gently with his fingers.

“[Name]. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

You wanted to answer — really, you did — but the words were all stuck behind a dam of anxiety and self-doubt.

You felt his hand slip over your knee again, this time staying there. Just a warm, steady weight. No pressure.

Just… waiting.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted quietly, voice breaking despite your best effort.

Umemiya blinked. “What?” He leaned in a little. “Sorry for what?”

You finally looked at him — and the concern in his eyes nearly undid you completely. Not judgment. Not frustration. Just open, focused attention. The kind he gave you when you were unraveling, but he still made you feel like the center of his universe.

“For not…” You trailed off, breath shaking. “For not being able to do more. With you.”

He froze. Not in a bad way — not like you said something wrong. Just… like he was processing it fully.

“…You think I’m mad about that?” he asked quietly.

Your silence said everything.

Umemiya exhaled slowly and scooted a little closer, legs turning toward you. His fingers brushed yours where they rested between your knees.

“I’m not mad, [Name],” he said. “I’m not tired of you. Not waiting for you to hurry up or do anything you’re not ready for.”

Your eyes were burning. You hated crying in front of people. Even him.

“But it’s been so long,” you whispered. “And I want to, Hajime. I really do. I just don’t know how to… start. Or say it. And then I think maybe you’re bored or regretting waiting this long and—”

“Whoa, whoa,” he cut in gently, squeezing your hand. “Bored? Regretting? Pretty, I’m not some asshole who just wants that.”

You blinked, surprised by the firmness in his voice.

He looked at you straight-on now, gaze unwavering. “I like waiting. Because it means I get more time with you like this. Holding your hand. Making you laugh. Walking you home. Falling asleep next to you. And yeah, I want you. Of course I do. But only when you want it. And not a second before.”

You stared at him, lips parted, something warm and aching rising in your chest.

His hand to your cheek, brushing your hair back. “You’re not Weird. Or slow. Or anything to apologize for. You’re just… you. And I’m crazy about you. Okay?”

Your breath hitched again, but this time for a different reason.

You wanted to be close. You wanted to stop thinking and start feeling.

You didn’t remember leaning into him — not really — but suddenly your forehead was resting against his shoulder, and his arms were around you. Gentle. Warm. He always held you like you were something breakable, but never fragile.

His lips brushed the top of your head. “We don’t have to do anything, y’know,” he murmured. “I meant that.”

“I…” Your voice caught. “I want to, Hajime. I just…”

Your fingers clutched at the front of his shirt, trembling. Your heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. He didn’t rush you. Just rubbed slow circles into your lower back with his thumb.

You took a breath, then another. “I want you to.. to touch me.”

You felt him exhale slowly, chest rising under your cheek. His hand moved to cup your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone as he gently tilted your head up.

His voice was a mumble, “Okay.”

He kissed you — not rushed or greedy. Just slow and warm and full of patience. You leaned into it, lips parting when his tongue brushed yours. It made something tighten deep in your belly. Need. Want. Still wrapped in nerves, but no longer drowning in them.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours. “Still okay?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah. Just… r-really nervous.”

He smiled, and it was so soft it made your heart ache. “S’okay to be nervous. You’re safe, [Name]. I got you.”

You swallowed, fingers twisting in his shirt. “I don’t really… know what to do.”

“You don’t gotta do anything,” he whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Just let me take care of you.”

He helped you ease back on the bed, crawling over you with slow, careful movements, like you were made of glass. You gasped a little when his lips trailed down your throat, warm and patient, sucking just enough to leave a trace. Your hands clutched at his shoulders.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured against your skin, then kissed your collarbone. “Tell me if anything’s too much. If you need to stop, even for a second—just say the word, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, then whispered, “Please don’t stop.”

That was all it took.

His hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingers trailing feather-light touches along your ribs, then down, until he reached the waistband of your shorts.

He paused. “Can I?”

Your breath hitched. “Y-Yeah.”

He tugged them down gently, helping you get out of them. His eyes stayed on yours the whole time—like he was making sure you never felt exposed, only seen.

And then his hand was between your thighs.

You whimpered when his fingers brushed you—softly at first, then with more intent as he found you already wet. Your thighs tried to close on instinct, but he was there, murmuring soft praise into your skin.

“So good, love,” he whispered, lips at your neck. “So pretty like this. You feel amazing.”

Your head dropped back onto the pillow, chest rising and falling rapidly. His finger slid between your folds, slow and teasing, not quite pressing in. You bucked a little without meaning to.

“Shhh,” he soothed, kissing your jaw. “I got you. Gonna go slow.”

When he slid a single finger inside, you gasped — it wasn’t painful, just foreign, new.

“Still okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you breathed, “It feels… weird. But g-good.”

“Gonna add another, ‘kay?”

You nodded, hips shifting just the tiniest bit toward him. And then you felt two fingers stretching you open, a pressure building as he worked you gently, curling against something inside you that made you moan, shaky and breathless.

“Fuck, you sound so good,” he murmured, kissing you.

Before you could even form words, he was moving lower. His fingers pulled back just enough for his mouth to replace them, tongue teasing gently over your clit. You gasped — a sharp, trembling sound — your hips twitching as your hands flew to his hair.

“H-Haji—wait, I—!” you stuttered, overwhelmed.

He looked up for just a second, lips slick. “Too much?”

“N-No! Just—feels really good—!”

He smiled, tongue dipping again, flicking and circling with such slow speed you could feel your stomach coiling tighter and tighter. His fingers slid back inside you, syncing with the rhythm of his mouth —

“Good girl,” he murmured into you. “Let it happen. Just feel me. You’re doing so good, sugar.”

That broke something open.

You arched against the bed with a strangled cry, thighs trembling around his head as your orgasm hit you in waves. Your hands gripped his shoulders like you were falling — but he was already holding you, grounding you, kissing you through every second of it.

When you finally came down, panting and dazed, he was already back at your side, wiping your tears away — you hadn’t even realized you were crying again.

Not from fear this time. From relief.

From being wanted — and seen.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, tucking you into his chest as you curled into him. “Always.

“I want to… I want to go further,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper.

His brows lifted slightly — not from surprise, but from caution. “Yeah?”

You nodded, already shaking a little. “I… I want you to be my first. I’m just— I’m r-really scared.”

He didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. He just shifted upright a little, leaning closer to cup your cheek with one warm, calloused hand.

“I’d be honored,” he said quietly. “But only if you’re really sure, baby. Not just ‘I want to make him happy.’ Not just to get it over with. You. Are you sure?”

You swallowed hard. “I want you. I’m scared, but I trust you.”

His breath hitched — almost like you’d just punched all the air out of his lungs. “Okay,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you slow and deep. “Then I’m gonna make it good for you. Gonna go slow. Real slow. You tell me to stop, even once? I stop. No questions.”

You nodded again, heart rattling against your ribs. “O-Okay.”

He kissed you again — not rushed, not hungry. Just careful. His hands moved over your body like he was learning you all over again, pausing when you gasped or tensed, murmuring soft praise into your skin with every touch.

“You’re so beautiful, [Name]. You’re perfect like this.”

He took his time undressing too, letting you see all of him, letting you touch. Just quiet closeness, layer by layer.

When he laid you back, he kissed down your chest, hands stroking your thighs to ease the tension there. lips brushing your skin.

“I’m gonna go real slow. Gonna feel a little stretch at first, yeah? Just breathe with me, okay?”

You nodded frantically, eyes wide. “I-I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. “I’m right here.”

You felt the press of him — the tip nudging gently between your folds. You tensed automatically, and his hand immediately found yours, fingers weaving tight.

“Shhh, love. I got you,” he whispered. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”

You shook your head quickly. “N-No. Just… just need a second.”

He kissed your knuckles. “Take your time.”

With your breathing slow and guided by his soft words, he began to push in — just a little at a time. You gasped, eyes fluttering, thighs trembling under his steady touch. It didn’t hurt, not really. It was just… intense. Full. New.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “You feel incredible. So warm. So soft.”

You whimpered again, face burying into his shoulder as he bottomed out with a low, shaky breath.

“That’s it. You took all of me, baby,” he whispered, kissing your jaw. “You okay?”

“I-I think so,” you breathed, still trembling. “J-Just… stay like this. Just for a second.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

He held you there, letting you adjust, his hand stroking your side while he whispered soft, silly nothings — how proud he was, how beautiful you looked, how much he adored you.

When you finally nodded, he started to move — just a slow, careful rock of his hips. You gasped again, overwhelmed, but this time there was more pleasure than fear.

Each roll of his body made something flutter deep inside you, and you clung to him like he was the only real thing in the world. His breath stuttered against your neck, but he never went faster, never chased his own pleasure. He was all you.

“I love you,” you whispered, voice cracking as your body trembled again.

He looked at you like the words broke him open. “I love you too, [Name],” he said. “So much. You’re doing amazing.”

The warmth building inside you wasn’t just physical — it was emotional, too. Every soft thrust, every whispered praise, every slow, touch brought you closer. When you finally came again, it was with tears in your eyes and his name on your lips, your whole body tightening around him.

„fuck.. im close Sugar… need you a little longer.“

After more soft thrusts, He followed soon after, burying his face in your neck with a low, desperate sound, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

He didn’t pull away right away. Just stayed there, breathing with you, stroking your hair, kissing your cheeks and forehead, whispering how proud he was. How much he loved you. How grateful he was you trusted him like this.

You were still shaking — but not from fear this time.

From being full. Of love. Of him. Of something that felt safe and unforgettable.

You blinked up at the ceiling, your body buzzing with a thousand sensations you didn’t know how to sort through.

And then — reality hit you like a cold breeze.

You were naked.

Next to him.

You yelped softly and yanked the blanket up to your chest in one frantic motion, curling onto your side and pulling the covers tightly around you like they could erase the memory of how bare you’d just been.

Umemiya — still sprawled on his back beside you, breathing heavy but completely relaxed — turned his head with a lazy grin.

“…You serious?” he said with a low chuckle. “You’re really gonna get shy on me now?”

You squeaked, hiding half your face under the blanket. “D-Don’t look!“

His laugh came louder this time, boyish and full of warmth, and he flopped dramatically onto his side to face you. “Babe, I just had you. You think there’s anything left I haven’t seen?”

“That’s exactly why!” you said, face burning. “It’s different now!”

He grinned, eyes soft even through the teasing. “God, you’re cute.”

“I’m not cute,” you grumbled, voice muffled behind the fabric. “I’m— I’m—nervous.”

“I know, baby.” His voice dropped into something softer now, less teasing. His fingers reached beneath the blanket to find yours and squeeze them gently. “But you don’t have to be. Not with me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just clutched the sheets tighter and peeked at him over the edge.

“You’re not… disappointed?” you asked softly. “That I was so nervous? That I didn’t know anything?”

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, then your nose, then the corner of your mouth. Each one slow. Sure.

“[Name],” he said, like he needed you to hear it, “I’m proud of you. That took so much trust. And you gave that to me. I don’t care how nervous you were. You were perfect.”

Your eyes welled again — because he meant it. Not just to soothe you. Not to win points.

Just the truth.

He tugged gently at the blanket, lowering it an inch. “Let me hold you properly, yeah? I miss your skin.”

You hesitated — then slowly let him tug the covers down enough to slide his arms around your waist, pulling you in close, your chest pressed to his.

His skin was warm, his heartbeat steady. Everything about him said safe.

“You were perfect,” he repeated into your hair, breath soft against your scalp. “And you’re still cute, even if you’re hiding like a little shrimp under the covers.”

You groaned into his chest, face still red.

But you smiled, too.

Because he was right here. And you didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

← WBK ┆ NAVI →

a/n : thanks for reading.. my first English smut…

© 2025 chaeuvy ; ━━ do not copy or translate my work !

[hexcii]

Constantly catching myself thinking shit like “man I’m so stupid” and then immediately following up with “brain fog. It was brain fog”

[desi-yearning]

I'm so damn exhausted for no reason at all *sigh*

[lovinglin]

SORRY UH, thoughts are thoughting /lh

[rampant-testiculitis]

rereading and rereading that post

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[kxsagi]

Hii!!!

I love ur writing so so so much. Genuinely i’ve been reading EVERYTHING. I was wondering if you could do one abt reader being really insecure about her thighs and stomach.

Tysm!

“𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞? 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞”

a/n: thank you so much for your support!!! i hope this could make you smile :)

and yes the title is a lana reference (i’m just so inspired by lyrics today)

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, niko ikki, kaiser michael, ness alexis, karasu tabito, shidou ryusei

itoshi rin

you're standing in front of the mirror frowning at your thighs when rin walks in. 

"what are you doing?" he asks like you're plotting a heist. 

"just… nothing," you mumble, tugging your shirt down over your stomach. 

he immediately knows something’s up. rin doesn't do emotions, but he does read you like a book. 

“you’re doing the self-hate monologue again, aren’t you.” 

you nod. he just sighs deeply and grabs your face like he's about to deliver a dramatic anime speech. 

"i need you to understand something." 

"… okay?" 

"your thighs are incredible. like, dangerously hot. people would pay to get crushed between them." 

"rin." 

"no. and your stomach? i literally fall asleep holding it every night. it’s the safest place on earth. i’m not even joking." 

later that night he buries his face into your stomach and mumbles, “see? perfect pillow. i win.” 

itoshi sae

you make a self-deprecating joke about your body and sae just slowly turns his head to you with the most unamused expression imaginable. 

“was that supposed to be funny?” 

“no i just… i don’t like my thighs.” 

"cool. i do." 

"yeah but they're –" 

"shhh. you're not allowed to talk shit about my favorite thighs." 

then he just grabs them casually while sipping his drink like it's tuesday. 

“don’t test me. i will write a love letter to your thighs and frame it.” 

and this man would. on fancy paper. with wax seals. 

your stomach? yeah he pokes it just to watch you squeal and then hugs it like it's his emotional support plushie. 

“stop saying dumb stuff. i know what i like. and i like you.” 

drops mic. walks away. leaves you blushing on the floor. 

isagi yoichi

isagi is not having ANY of this negativity. 

you say “ugh i look bloated” one time and he spins around like a rom-com protagonist. 

“you’re what? LOVE. no. come here.” 

wraps you in the softest hug and literally kisses your stomach like it's sacred. 

“this is the cutest stomach in the world. i’d build a monument for it.” 

“yoichi –” 

“and your thighs? do you know how many times i’ve spaced out staring at them? once during a team meeting. bachira noticed. it was awkward.” 

he starts complimenting every little thing with passionate sports announcer energy: “and here we have the most stunning pair of thighs gracing this room. yes, folks, look at that form!” 

eventually he lays his head on your lap with a dreamy sigh and goes, “you don’t even get it. you’re my favorite view.” 

bachira meguru

you look a little down and he immediately panic-scatters into your space. 

“what happened? who do i fight? did a mirror insult you? i’ll punch it.” 

you admit you’re just feeling insecure about your body, especially your thighs. 

he gasps like he just witnessed a war crime. 

“THOSE thighs? the thighs i mentally thank god for every single day???” 

clutches them dramatically. 

“they are elite. masterpiece. top-tier. anime protagonist levels of divine.” 

then he pokes your stomach and giggles when you try to squirm away. 

“it’s bouncy! it’s cute! it’s squish-approved! 10/10! best cuddling material ever!” 

draws a smiley face on it with his finger. names it. gives it a backstory. 

“this is sir squish-a-lot. he’s royalty. treat him with respect.” 

you’re laughing so hard by the end you forget you were ever upset. mission accomplished. 

nagi seishiro

you say something negative about your thighs and he just blinks at you. 

"no thoughts. head empty. but thighs good." 

“nagi that’s not –” 

“your thighs are comfy. they’re warm. they’re literally my headrest when i nap. don’t disrespect my nap station.” 

then just flops face-first into them while mumbling, “mmph. perfect.” 

he pats your stomach too and goes, “this is where i press my face when you’re mad at me. can’t believe you’re beefing with it.” 

tries to fix your insecurities by aggressively cuddling them out of you. 

“if i kiss the things you hate enough times, will you stop hating them?” 

spoiler: yes. yes you will. 

mikage reo

genuinely offended when you say you don’t like your thighs or stomach. 

“wait what? are we looking at the same person? babe, you’re an art piece. i’d hang a painting of you in my mansion.” 

“reo, you don’t have a mansion –” 

“yet. but i will. and your thighs are going in the foyer.” 

threatens to fund a PR campaign for your self-esteem. 

“billboards. magazine covers. motivational speeches. i’m not kidding.” 

hugs you from behind and whispers, “how dare you talk bad about my future wife’s perfect body.” 

dramatic but also seriously in love with every inch of you. 

“if you ever insult your thighs again, i will cry and guilt-trip you for a week. i’m rich. i can be petty.” 

niko ikki 

you’re feeling insecure and niko notices right away, because this boy is observant as hell. 

“you keep covering your stomach,” he says gently. 

you admit what’s been bothering you, and he gets this serious expression like he’s going into soccer mode. 

“your thighs are my favorite thing to cuddle. i literally mold into them like memory foam.” 

you snort, but he just shrugs. 

“i’m being real. and your stomach? that’s my safe zone. my emotional recharge pad. stop hating on it.” 

later, he literally tucks himself into your side with a blanket and mutters, “mmm, yup. serotonin unlocked. no more insults allowed.” 

deadass gives your thighs a pep talk like, “you guys are killin’ it. keep up the good work.” 

kaiser michael

you say you feel gross and kaiser’s mouth literally drops open. 

“EXCUSE ME???” 

“what do you mean you hate your thighs. are you blind? they are a national treasure.” 

puts his hand over his heart like he’s been personally wronged. 

“your stomach too. i love that thing. it’s adorable. it’s sexy. it’s mine.” 

proceeds to rant for 10 minutes about how obsessed he is with you. 

“i would get in a physical altercation with a mirror if it made you feel bad. i’m being serious, stop laughing!” 

then starts listing celebrities and why they don’t even come close to your level. 

“zendaya? beautiful. but do her thighs make me bark out loud like yours? no. i win.” 

you’re laughing so hard you can’t even argue anymore. 

ness alexis

he goes into full puppy boyfriend mode when you say anything mean about yourself. 

“noooo don’t say that! your thighs are literally heaven-sent!” 

grabs them and wiggles his fingers into them like they’re stress balls. 

“i could live between these thighs. i would die happy here. let me in.” 

“alexis please –” 

“no. you brought this on yourself.” 

hugs your waist so tightly you can’t escape. 

“and your tummy? my favorite place. soft. warm. 100% wife material.” 

will pout dramatically if you keep putting yourself down. 

“i’ll cry. i will. then you’ll feel bad. don’t do that to me.” 

karasu tabito

hears you insult your stomach and just slowly blinks. 

“so we’re lying now?” 

“karasu, i’m serious –” 

“me too. your thighs are elite. S-tier. baddie-coded.” 

starts listing reasons why you’re the hottest girl alive. 

“you walk and i stare. you sit and i stare. you breathe and i STARE.” 

pokes your thigh and says, “this is the reason i lost my train of thought mid-practice yesterday.” 

constantly hypes you up in the most unserious ways. 

“your body’s so fine it needs to come with a warning label. handle with care. dangerous curves ahead.” 

and when you finally laugh, he grins and says, “there’s my girl. don’t let dumb thoughts talk shit about my favorite person.”

shidou ryusei

you mutter something like, “ugh, i feel gross today. my thighs look huge,” and shidou literally stops mid-bite of his protein bar. 

“what did you just say about my favorite thighs in the universe?” 

stares at you, dead serious. 

“you tryna make me cry right now? ‘cause i’ll do it. ugly sobbing and everything.” 

immediately drops to his knees like he’s about to propose, but instead he wraps his arms around your legs and mumbles into your thighs, “nah, i’m not letting this slander slide. not on my watch.” 

you try to walk away but he’s LATCHED ON. 

“i love these thighs so much i’d build a church and worship at the altar of ‘em. i’d name a stadium after ‘em. shidou thighs arena™.” 

your stomach? he pokes it, leans in close, and whispers, “you got that sexy villain belly. soft and deadly. dangerous in the best way.” 

“what does that even mean –” 

“means i’m obsessed. you look like you could ruin my life and i’d say thank you.” 

will not stop until you laugh. will not stop even after that. 

“don’t ever talk shit about my favorite parts of you again. you’re so hot it’s distracting. like. spiritually.” 

later that night he flops across your lap and announces, “if thighs could kill, you’d be doing life in prison. and i’d be your cellmate. willingly.” 

he’s the unhinged hype man you never asked for but desperately needed. 

and the second he sees you smiling again, he grins all smug and goes, “yeah. that’s right. those thighs are mine, baby.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[bloodibambiidoll]

love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

[ratatoastwrites]

Habits and Distractions

Spencer Reid x wife!reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI

Synopsis: Your oral fixation has been getting out of hand, and your husband is concerned enough to take matters into his own hands

cw: professor Reid (but it’s like only briefly referenced), also he teaches at harvard (even more briefly referenced, like barely at all), reader has an oral fixation, chewing on lips, mentions of viruses and bacteria, pet names (angel, sweetheart, etc), some terms of degradation (slut, whore) BUT it isn’t meant in a degrading way, use of ‘Sir’ (once), like maybe one religious imagery ?, oral (m receiving), oral cockwarming, shoe humping, coming in underwear, face fucking, softdom!Spence

a/n: ughhhh this is so self-indulgent lmao 🥸 also, my reqs are open, so check out my masterlist for guidelines if you’re interested 🤟

wc: 2.8k

The grandfather clock ticks quietly in the corner of your shared home-office with Spencer, the room illuminated by the warm light of the setting sun. You’re both already home, sharing space in the quiet study, content with being in the same room, even without any conversation.

You don’t have any paperwork left to finish, so you’re curled up on the loveseat, drawing the outlines of a future painting on a canvas. Spencer is sitting at the big mahogany desk, glasses low on the bridge of his nose, as he grades some essays from his students, his lips moving quietly as he reads, mouthing the words on the paper. There’s something you’ve always found endearing about it, and you once told him that it was like he needed to taste the words, to fully take them in.

You don’t realise that you’re staring, at least until his lips stop moving, and when you glance up into his eyes, you find warm hazel irises looking right back at you.

“You’re doing it again,” he says softly, making your nose scrunch up a little.

“Sorry. I can’t help it, y’know. Try having such a pretty husband and not staring at him all the time.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, a fond huff leaving his nose as he shakes his head.

“I already have a gorgeous wife, so I understand the struggle.” His words are sweet, but you can tell that there’s a lingering ‘but’ in there somewhere. “That’s not what I was talking about, though.”

And there it is.

“What do you mean?” You ask, teeth sinking into your plush lower lip, which prompts a pointed look from your husband. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” His words aren’t mocking by any means, his tone is soft and indulgent. Still, your eyebrows pinch together, your lips twisting into a small grimace.

“You’ve been doing it a lot more lately,” Spencer points out, his gaze gentle, but observant, as he looks at you. “You did it approximately ten times just in the last hour. And that is not accounting for the nearly twenty times you chewed on the end of your pencil.”

You sigh softly in frustration, raking a hand through your hair as you glare down at the pencil in your lap, like the piece of wood is the real villain here. Spencer’s quick to cut off your negative thoughts before they can even form, completely attuned to your micro expressions.

“I’m not saying this to embarrass you, sweetheart. I’m just worried. For one, chewing on random things like pencils and pen caps can damage your teeth and cause several infections transmitted by bacteria. Did you know that, for example, a cold virus can survive on a pen cap for over a week, with bacterial strains surviving for up to a month?”

“I guess not.”

“Yeah. And that’s not even mentioning your lips.”

You reach up a hand to run your fingers along your lips, hissing softly at the sting. You habitually chew on your lower lip, but these days your top lip hasn’t been safe anymore, either. You have all sorts of chapsticks and lip balms lining your vanity, laying in your purse, decorating the bathroom counter. Still, it’s never enough, not when you aren’t giving your lips the chance to recover.

“You know I’m not judging you, angel. And I know this isn’t a new development. But you’ve been doing it more frequently, and I want to know if I can help you somehow.”

He sounds so genuine that it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. It also, coincidentally, makes a familiar heat flicker in your lower abdomen.

You stand up from the loveseat, smoothing down your skirt and the Harvard sweater that you stole borrowed from his closet, before sauntering over to where he’s sitting behind the desk.

“I don’t know,” you reply with a heavy sigh, leaning your lower back against the mahogany. “I guess I’ve just been more stressed about work lately. I know that I should try to redirect my frustrations, but I don’t know how. Lollipops aren’t my thing, and they aren’t good for my teeth either. Chewing gum only works for a while, and if I have too much, my stomach starts rioting. I’m all out of options here.”

You know that you’re being very transparent about your faux dilemma —which isn’t completely fake, actually, but you’re definitely playing it up. He catches on immediately, of course, raising one of his eyebrows as his lips twitch into an amused smirk. Being the indulgent, sweet husband he is, though, he doesn’t point it out. Instead, he pushes his chair away from the desk, making space for you as he spreads his legs.

“I think I know just the thing you need.” His tone is still mellow, but there’s a darker edge to it now, something that you know to recognise as desire. “Kneel down for me, sweetheart.”

You’re on your knees before he even finishes his sentence, making him chuckle fondly while you blink up at him. You reach out a hand to touch the bulge that’s formed in his slacks, and while you know that it never takes much from you to turn him on, you have a sneaking suspicion that watching you chew on your pencil and bite your lips for the past hour may have been what got him so worked up in the first place.

You retract your hand when you see his raised eyebrow, understanding the warning without him having to tell you. He smiles at you in approval, and it does nothing to quell the growing need in you.

“Please, Sir,” you plead in a whiny tone, making him let out a sigh of exasperation. You know it’s just for show, and he confirms your theory with his next words.

“Only because I appreciate your manners, princess.”

Spencer finally unzips his slacks, pushing down his briefs just enough for his heavy cock to spring free. Just the sight of his length has you salivating, looking at the flushed tip and prominent veins like you are seeing the second coming of Christ himself.

“Look at you, drooling over yourself just from seeing my cock,” Spencer murmurs softly, carding a hand through your hair gently. “You want it that badly, huh? You dirty little slut.”

All you can do is nod enthusiastically in response, biting down on your lip. Noticing this, Spencer cups your jaw gently, his thumb swiping over your abused skin, freeing it from your teeth.

“None of that, sweetheart. Come here.”

He guides you closer to his erection, your thighs rubbing together from anticipation. Your lips are so close that you can taste him in the air, but you don’t do anything yet. Not until he gives you the word.

“Such a good girl. So patient for me.” Spencer’s tone is close to reverent as he praises you, watching with something akin to fascination as your gaze briefly leaves his cock, in favour of looking up into his eyes.

“Go on, baby. Take what’s yours.”

You’re on him as soon as he gives you the permission, moaning whorishly at his taste. You lick a fat stripe along the underside of his length, before swirling your tongue around his tip. You repeat the sequence a few times, feeling rewarded by the sounds leaving Spencer’s lips, and you can already feel your panties sticking to your dripping cunt, even though he hasn’t even touched you yet.

When you finally wrap your lips around his flushed, leaking tip, Spencer and you moan at the same time. You swirl your tongue and suck like he’s your personal lollipop, whining obscenely, like you are the one getting head.

His hand moves to the back of your head, his fingers twisting into your hair, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t make you take him deeper. He just lets you enjoy yourself on his cock, hissing out a curse when you finally take more of him into your warm mouth.

“You’re doing so good, angel. You look so beautiful like this, fuck. You needed this, huh? Needed that pretty mouth stuffed full of my cock.”

You moan around him pornographicaly, your eyes glazing over as you look up at him, your throat bobbing around him as you nod, making him let out a delicious sound in return.

You take more of him, as much as you can, your tongue continuing to run along his shaft, as you bob your head slowly up and down his length.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you’re an absolute vision,” he whimpers out the praise, his fingers tightening in your hair to ground himself, head tipping back against his chair. “Go on, sweetheart, just like that.”

You would love to do as you’re told, but you know that if you continue on like this, it won’t take long before he cums, and this ends. And you simply never want it to end, never want his beautiful length to leave the confines of your throat.

You humm around him apologetically as you still your movements and lay your head down on his thigh, with his cock still inside your mouth. Spencer looks down at you with a quizzical expression, to which you only respond with innocent puppy dog eyes, that are hazy with lust, and your cheeks hollowing around him for a second, before relaxing your mouth around him.

Spencer huffs in amusement and fondness, his free hand moving to caress your face gently, his thumb brushing over the bulge in your cheek, from having him in your mouth.

“Aw, you just need me in your mouth for as long as possible, right sweetheart? Warming my cock, while you hump my foot like a bitch in heat. My perfect little cock drunk whore.”

You don’t even realise what you’re doing until he calls you out on it, making you whimper around him needily. And true enough, somewhere along the line, your thighs parted around his leg, your hips grinding your wet pussy against his dress shoe, making the material shiny with your slick. You can’t bring yourself to feel bad about it though, matter of fact, your hips only pick up the pace, once you are aware of what you’re doing.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good.” Spencer’s soft encouragement has you whining around him as you grind your throbbing pussy against his shoe, your moans and whimpers vibrating around his shaft. “Mmh, so good for me. You gonna cum like this, angel? Is my perfect slut going to cum on my shoe, with my cock in her mouth, like the dirty little whore she is?”

You can’t answer him properly, but the need in your eyes definitely does. He continues stroking your hair tenderly as you get yourself off on his foot, and it isn’t long until you’re squeezing his ankle between your thighs, your whole body shuddering as your orgasm wracks through your body. Your throat relaxes around him, until your nose is buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair, his moan loud enough to cover up your quiet gagging.

“Good girl. Did so well for me. You’re so beautiful, just for me.” He continues murmuring soft praises as you come down from your high, before he pulls you off his cock, just enough so that you aren’t deep throating him anymore, letting you catch your breath, as much as you can.

“You did so good, my love. Do you need me to take over for you? Want me to fuck your throat, sweetheart?”

The idea nearly makes you shiver in anticipation, managing a small nod in response. He gives you a soft smile, before standing up from his chair, tapping your cheek twice to make you open your mouth. You do so obediently, sticking out your tongue, that earns you a reverent “good girl”.

“You know what to do if it’s too much,” he says, his fingers tightening around your hair, and you barely have the time to nod, before his hips snap forward harshly.

Spencer doesn’t fuck your throat often, he likes watching you take his cock at your own pace and volition, and ultimately, he prefers going down on you anyways. But when he does, there is nothing hesitant about it. He fucks your mouth like he fucks your cunt, with deep, precise thrusts, holding you still, so you can’t squirm away. Your eyes fill up with tears from gagging around him, which he seems to enjoy, his eyes dark and heated as they take in your appearance.

That’s not to say that he has no compassion. Though he isn’t particularly gentle, after every deep thrust, he pulls back just enough to let you breathe, and he even reminds you to relax your throat from time to time.

“Mhm, there you go, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, yes, good girl. You’re so perfect, baby, you were made to take my cock.”

His praises come in the form of sharp gasps and whimpers between pants, looking absolutely gone as you look up at him. His eyebrows are pinched, his lips parted, and his nose scrunches up every time he has to remind himself to open his eyes, not wanting to miss the sight of you on your knees, with a mouthful of his cock.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum like this, twitching harshly in your mouth, making you dizzy with the taste of precum he’s leaking on your tongue. Your only warning is a choked “fuck, baby, gonna—“ and then his hips buck against your face, his tip spurting warm cum down your throat, as he trips over the edge with a moan of your name. You attempt to swallow as best as you can, your tongue tracing his shaft to clean him off, before you finally pull off, letting out a few shaky coughs as you try to catch your breath.

He is on his knees in front of you in a second, large hands cradling your face, like you are the most precious thing on the planet. Even through the fog in your brain, you have enough brainpower to think ‘holy fuck, I’m married to the most beautiful person in the world’. His face is flushed, his hazel irises looking almost black with how wide his pupils are from the lingering effects of his high. His brows are furrowed in slight concern, and his glasses sit a little crooked on the slope of his nose. His lips are red from the way he was biting them —ironic, huh?— and they’re also moving, making you realise that he’s talking to you.

“…you listening?”

You barely catch the end of his question, blinking a few times as the haze finally clears from your brain, shaking your head to snap yourself back into reality.

“Sorry, what?”

Your voice is a little hoarse, which makes his eyebrows furrow even more, despite the small twitch of his lips.

“I asked if you’re alright, sweetheart,” he says, with a tone so tender that you can’t help leaning forward to kiss him gently. He kisses you back just as softly, one of his hands sliding down from your face to your neck, caressing your throat with his thumb, like he’s trying to soothe it from the outside.

“I’m okay. I was just a little… out of it,” you murmur finally as you pull back, tilting your forehead against his.

“Mhm, I know. Your voice is a little rough, baby. Does it hurt?”

You just shrug, leaning in for another kiss, and he indulges you, just like he does about everything. He pulls back before the kiss could deepen, swiping a thumb across your bottom lip when it juts out into a pout.

“Please don’t shrug this off. I want to take care of you, angel girl.” His voice is still so achingly careful, like you’re made of fine china, and you’d crumble from so much as a harsh word. You’re putty in his hands now, unable to say no to him when he asks so sweetly.

“Okay. I’d like that.” The smile he gives you after your mellow reply is radiant in the gentlest way, his adoration lighting up the room like the pinkish orange hues of the sunset.

“Can you stand up for me, darling?”

He helps you up to your feet gently, pressing careful, soothing kisses to your red knees, his hands massaging your thighs. He makes you drink some water from the glass on his desk, and then reaches into one of his drawers to give you a honey flavoured throat candy, ignoring your raspy claims of being just fine.

And then he pulls you into his lap, turning on the desk light to continue grading the essays, even after the sun has set, letting you curl up against him, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead with every paper he finishes reading. You fall asleep to the sound of his pen gliding on the paper, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic ticking, and the soft voice of your husband, telling you that he loves you more than anything.

[mewfistoe]

Sylus tries to deepen your relationship by confirming if you two are dating and you rebuff him.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, crying, insecure & anxious reader, lots of internal negative self hatred talk on reader’s part

A/N: felt sad and bad about myself and wrote this.

————

“I’m sorry Sylus, I can’t.”

You have never seen him look as dismayed and distressed as he does right now. He isn’t even trying to hide it.

“I’m sorry. I can’t date you.”

He takes a careful step back from you, clearly trying to put some distance between the two of you, “I…apologize if I overstepped.” His voice isn’t shaky but only just. “I misread the situation. I’m deeply sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, uncharacteristically awkward.

You bite your lower lip, flustered, “…No, no. It’s fine. It’s not- You didn’t- I’m sorry… You didn’t make me…uncomfortable. I- I just can’t. I’m sorry.” A cowardly answer, you think.

Sylus was always braver than you though. More willing to show you his vulnerable belly than you ever were to show him yours. He visibly swallows, gathering that bravery, before starting up, “If I… If you don’t mind my asking, is there someone else? Did I misread the situation? Us? How you feel about me?” He pauses briefly, “I thought that we were on our way to a…more intimate relationship of sorts.”

You turn red, “No, there’s no one else… I…I just. I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea, but I just want to be friends.” You fidget. Coward, you think again.

You swallow. You know Sylus would never press an issue that you were obviously distressed by. But, you think, he deserves more than this. He had been so good to you. Made you feel…special, for a while. Looked at you and saw you. Allowed you to play pretend that maybe you could have something nice with someone nice. Sometimes he even made you forget your own self-loathing. He deserves to know, at least a bit of it, to not be left in a foggy muddle of where things stood, and where they had been.

You try to be brave too, “It’s not you, I know that we were…flirting with something like that. Well I guess just flirting too, in general.” You try a joke to lighten the mood. It doesn’t really work.

You can’t look at him so you look to the side. Your voice comes out soft, barely a whisper, “I liked it. I…I do like you. I just. I can’t date anyone, that’s all.”

He frowns, “I’m afraid I… I don’t understand? I don’t…” He stops. You look like you’re about to cry. You are about to cry.

“Oh kitten, I… It. It’s fine. Don’t feel pressured to explain. I understand that you have your own reasons and I respect that.”

You do start to cry. Messily, snot and all. You’re embarrassed to do this in front of him, ashamed of your own weakness, “I’m really sorry, Sylus,” you choke out between tears.

His fingers twitch, unsure of what to do at first. You reach up to try and wipe at your eyes sloppily. You go to wipe your nose against your arm and his mind is made up.

He pulls you into a hug, and holds you protectively. Your tears and runny nose are undoubtedly making a disgusting mess against his fancy designer shirt. “Shh…it’s okay. It’s okay. You are always allowed to say no. You don’t owe me or anyone else an explanation. Your reasons are your own and that’s more than enough.”

His breathing is steady and you can feel his warmth against you. It feels nice. It always does. “Shh…I’m here. I’ll always be here for you if you need someone. If you need me. We don’t have to do anything or be anything you don’t want to. We can just be here like this.”

And it feels so good to be comforted, to let him hold you.

Sylus deserves better than you and your non-answers. You want to tell him that. You want to tell him that you’re scared he won’t like you anymore the more he gets to know you. That you’re scared he’ll avoid you and reject you if he sees deeper into all the disgusting and terrible and ugly parts of you. You want to tell him that you hope he finds someone better than you, someone more worthy of being loved. That you hate yourself. That you don’t deserve to be cared for. You don’t deserve to be held like this. That you are so flawed and so ugly and so awful and so pathetic in so many ways that he cannot even imagine.

But you know him well enough by now to know that saying those things would only upset him. Infinitely patient with you as he is, there is nothing he would hate more than hearing you tear yourself down. Even if it’s all the truth.

So you choke the words down and say nothing instead. Just stand there and allow yourself to be soothed and held. Even though you don’t deserve it.

[littlemissshifter]

Feelings cannot stop your shift.

I've been seeing this a lot in my asks that people feel doubtful if they'll ever shift or if they will ever get their 'manifestation'.

You need to know how feelings work. Look, Feelings are waves of emotions. Emotion is energy in motion.

Feelings are just energy passing through you depending on your thoughts or circumstances because they connect you to the present moment. They have absolutely no relation to your manifestation/shift. They are necessary for the human experience.

Anxiety, fear, doubts, confusion are all energies that pass through you. They are not your constant state of self. You hold onto it and amplify it by adding on to the thoughts you associate as negative. You need to realise that doubt is just the energy which you give your thoughts.

You can't not feel your feelings or be emotionless, it will not get you to your shifting mindset faster. Throw that stupid belief down the well before I throw you with it (joke pls).

I repeat again, FEELINGS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR SHIFT.

౨ৎ

When people talk about shifting, there's mainly only two things that lead to it:

1. Letting go 2. Knowing

Knowing is an internal feeling, it's ever present. It's the true you. The self that knows everything that exists. It transcends planes of reality, logic and any feeling ever. Chase that knowing.

Knowing has everything to do with your reality. Your every shift has a knowing attached to it. Knowing is a very small feeling in your chest. You can't explain it, you just know. That knowing is the shift.

This does not mean that stop feeling your feelings. You can and will continue to feel whatever comes up with the present moment even with that knowing. Your 'negative' feelings will be easier to deal with when you get used to the knowing.

- What is that knowing?

That knowing comes when you are aware of your true essence as a human being. Being the experience and the experiencing at the same time. Reality is YOU. You choose things that happen in your reality. Whether it be consciously or unconsciously. The 'feeling' of knowing comes with the knowledge of your true self. It is also the true YOU.

- Why does it happen with some things but not the other?

When you desire something, you are it because everything expands in the physical reality through you. This is why we say you are the 'creator'. It all comes down to whether you kept on choosing the thing you wanted or not. When some things instantly shift it's because you were present with that knowing. It's unconscious. Because it's your nature. Your nature is shifting itself. This is also why when we try too hard to 'get' something we get exhausted and burnt out. We're not supposed to try too hard. We're just supposed to exist with that knowing. Also why letting go works for so many people because they just exist with that knowing of how reality works and that they'll experience it eventually.

- Why do we get the knowing in our body when we think with our mind?

You may not even have thought about this but it's important to know why. Your shifts are not entirely the mind's work. Yes you heard that right. Read it again. Stop giving your mind credit for everything. Everything is in the mind but it does not work alone. It never did and it will never be able to. Your heart is responsible for your knowing. Your heart makes sure that you experience what you want. You can only choose and live in the mind. To make you experience it in the physical reality is the heart's job.

When you keep doubting yourself but you never truly give up what do you think is pushing you to keep on trying again and again? If you don't believe that you can do it then why do you keep moving forward? It's the heart that keeps you moving.

Your mind sends a message to the heart on what you choose to experience and the heart gets working. They both work together. This concept is popular in the media and is also known as 'Brain Heart Coherence'. It's more than just Coherence (= being a unified hole). It is existence. The experience of thoughts, of thinking and of shifting. It is reality. It is you.

By persisting in your thoughts of that thing that you want, you mould your feelings for that thing and through that moulding you experience the knowing. That knowing is what manifests. Reminder that the knowing has always existed deep within you under all that layers of doubt and fear as it is YOU.

It's really amazing actually and I'm not just saying all this. I've experienced it and still am. This is just the basic stuff of why we know through our body. Hopefully someone got it. Take your heart seriously.

Again you can choose not to 'believe' in all this. Wouldn't change the fact that it's true.

[kunoiashifts]

·˚ ༘ ~ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛɪɴɢ ɴᴏɴꜱᴛᴏᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ~ ·˚ ༘

✩ for the past few weeks, i had been spiraling repeatedly.

✩ it was like whenever i got newfound motivation and a feeling that i'd actually shift, i'd just spiral over and over. i was stuck in a loop of having a good mindset, to having a worse one all over again.

✩ last weekend, i decided enough was enough. i wanted to shift, and i wanted my mindset to be suitable for shifting in general.

✩ i read up on these two posts and realized that i was basically just self sabotaging myself all along. 😭

✩ when i cried and worried about not shifting, i let my thoughts run rampant and persist in the fact that i hadn't shifted yet. it wasn't bad that i felt emotional, it was bad that i felt like my emotions would set me back. and i let them do so. this is why people tell you it's okay to be upset. it's okay to cry. just don't let your emotions dictate your shifting journey because you will get there no matter what.

✩ what i should have been doing was instead of persisting in negative thoughts, i should have swapped them out (i used the photo in the first post linked to help me understand how to do it). even if it hurt to even try to affirm or stop them, i'd let them go if i just forgot about them on my own. after a while, i found myself putting way less pressure on myself.

✩ and to help me normalize revision, i used it for other undesirable thoughts throughout my days. eg. "i hate math class— wait, i love math class because it's so easy!" (and guess what? it became easy just like that!!)

✩ and now, for the fun part. :3 after learning how to revise my negative thoughts, i decided to figure out how to actually get what i want.

✩ and the only key was to know i already have it.

✩ but i had already heard that 1,000 times before. however, when i read up on the second post and learned more about imagination, i realized i had been doing it all wrong.

✩ manifesting isn't about getting. it's about remembering you already have it.

✩ i had heard countless times about how you should "live in the end" and "act as if," but nothing ever stuck with my stubborn brain.

✩ so when i actually sat down and learned how the 3d and 4d worked through imagination using the video linked in the second post, i knew how to get to my dr.

some of the other edward art videos i watched, i genuinely find him so helpful:

Don't Try, But Experience - literally everything clicked for me in this video the most

Imagination is Not A State

Imagination is Self

✩ tldr: once i imagined it, i experienced it. no matter what the 3d throws my way. whenever i got a fleeting doubt, i'd simply revise it. "i haven't shifted yet— what? i'm in my dr right now, what am i talking about?"

✩ obviously it's easier said than done. but trust me, my brain was extremely stubborn before this and didn't take in ANY info i mindlessly bombarded it with. if you just take a second and actually try to understand law of assumption, it will click. and for me, all it took was these two simple posts.

if you'd like to know how i've been getting extremely close to shifting, then here :3 — every night, after using the HMM method and imagining my dr before sleeping, I've gotten very vivid dreams, (multiple about me successfully shifting) a flash of light behind my eyes as if i shifted for a split second, feeling way more connected towards my visualizations, (because now i see them as truth, they're genuine memories from my desired reality.) and overall feeling way more confident in myself. doubts have barely popped up, even if i wake back up in the old story. because i'm living the truth in my true reality (4d). my mind is all i need.

this is why people tell you your mind shifts first.

take that and run with it.

persist in the fact that you've already shifted.

imagine your dr, not as a faraway place, but as a place you've already been to. a place you're already in.

- ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɴᴏɪᴀ

[pineapplepr1nc3ss888]

MEDITATION

for those who want to actually learn about pure consciousness and meditation, i suggest you watch this video than trying to ask other people to manifest it for you. learn to recognise your own power. nothing external outside you has any POWER over your thoughts.

have you ever heard stories of people talking about possibly being injured in accidents or whatever, hear how they talk about going in and out consciousness. this is because you are consciousness. you are awareness. you are aware of the 3d reality which only exists and is aware because you exist and are aware. meditating isn’t forcing anything to happen, waiting for a magic being to grant your wishes. you are the magic being, not the subconscious mind. you give the orders and your subconscious listens, pure consciousness is just being separated from negative limiting beliefs. meditating is just focused on being pure bliss, pure consciousness, pure happiness. there is no waiting, no inducing, it’s simply just being. it’s within you, stop seeking it as an escape. what you are aware of right now, is just simply your already dominant beliefs running on cycle every single day. i made a post about assuming and to look at your every day life, those are the current beliefs you have that operate your daily life.

meditating is just being and transcending deeper into consciousness where you are not attached to anything but simply just aware, from there you can choose to manifest anything instantly once you are aware you are nothing but everything at the same time or you build up the belief/assumption you manifest instantly. the void isn’t a god to grant your wishes, you are the god. you just gotta fix your assumptions.

this is my favourite quote by David Lynch - “if you took consciousness away, you would see what it really is. if it didn’t exist, we wouldn’t exist, and if we did exist, we wouldn’t know what it is. it is the I AMness of life. it is life itself, tied to it is creativity, intelligence, energy, love, power, bliss and dynamic peace, all of which is pure consciousness”

when you expand your consciousness you will expand those feelings and expand your own life aka your manifestations, you don’t need to become pure consciousness. you have just got to become aware of consciousness, aware of your god self, and apply the knowledge you know. fix the shitty assumptions you have, get rid of them, LOOK at your every day life and see what may be blocking or causing delays to manifesting, become awareness and choose to persist in the new story. step into the state you want to experience.

watch this video about David Lynch who talks about the transcending deeper into conscious meditation in detail and how it works, to help you understand. if you still don’t understand your power then go back to the basics of LOA

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[sunshineandspencer]

Jolene

A/N: I’ve managed to get sick and the thing that roused me from my deathbed was hearing Jolene and going ‘yes, this applies to a Hotch fic, my people need me’ if it doesn’t make sense, blame the headache.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Girlfriend!Reader.

Summary: She desperately tries not to think that way about his ex-wife, but seeing them interact hurts way more than she thought it would.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: established relationship, cutesy nicknames, Haley is alive, barely-negative self-thoughts, angst but a happy ending

be added to the taglist!!

“I can easily understand how you could easily take my man, but he’s the only one for me, Jolene.”

Some part of her knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d powered through it. Aaron had kissed her softly in the kitchen and told her that it would all be alright, slowly moving her to the stairs so that she could get ready.

Smacking her ass and laughing as she yelped, disappearing into their bedroom to get dressed.

They’d been together nearly three years now, only about a month until their third anniversary, and he promised something big - but that’s not important right now.

Jack has a big soccer game this afternoon, his team - little league but still important, as both men swear to her - had made it to whatever the ‘finals’ were. Aaron coaches his team, and as much as she tries to keep up, sports have never been her thing.

Despite this, she attends every single game and cheers no matter what’s happening. Plus, she gets the added bonus of seeing her boyfriend in a loose shirt and shorts, a rare and delicious sight. All the other moms have learnt that Aaron is taken, considering he comes over to kiss her whenever he can.

Honestly, Aaron is perfect. 

Even with his job, she doesn’t mind at all. She’s a photographer, and so she does all her editing work from home, and even when she does need to travel, she does it around his work and Jack’s school times. Occasionally bringing them with her, or just Jack when Aaron is away.

She absolutely loves their little family, and every single moment they spent together, and knew early on that days like this couldn’t be avoided forever.

Of course, she knows that Aaron loves her, he tells her more than enough and he still thinks he’s lacking in that department. But he loves her so desperately that he easily makes her feel seventeen all over again.

So Aaron is not the problem, but she is.

Haley, his ex-wife. The woman divorced Aaron, and moved on a lot quicker than he had, but that’s not the problem, people move at different speeds and she fell out of the marriage a lot sooner than Aaron did. The issue that she has is seeing them together with Jack.

They’re so.. picture perfect. Clearly a family. To the point where it hurts.

Haley is utterly gorgeous, and ageing has only done her wonders. Of course, she knows that she’s also aged pretty well, but not as well as her. 

The woman exists as if the phrase ‘fine wine’ was made just to describe her, and the quiet sting of jealousy hits deep whenever she and Aaron interact. It isn’t very often, thank God, but it still sucks.

The way she still talks to him so casually, as if they were friends who didn’t have an eight year marriage between them, it sets her on edge. It feels like she believes if she wanted she could easily stroll back into Aaron’s life. And why wouldn’t she?

She’s stunning, she’s Jack’s mother, there’s nothing stopping her from taking Aaron all over again.

Except the fact Aaron has reassured her that Haley is nothing to him anymore except the woman who gave him the greatest gift in his life bar his “wonderful girlfriend”, and she believes him. God- it feels so wrong to feel jealous and small when he’s told her that Haley is nothing. It feels like she’s doubting him, and it’s not that she’s trying to, she can’t help it.

How could she, when his ex-wife looks like that?

“Where’ve you gone sweetheart?”

Blinking softly, she looked up from where Jack was excitedly talking to his mom about all the goals he scored - uncaring that half were own-goals.

Aaron had come over to sit next to her, and hesitated from placing his usual peck to her lips when he found her so lost in her own thoughts. Moving to sit next to her and immediately place a hand on her thigh, squeezing softly and pressing his thumb into her flesh by the hem of her dress.

“Nowhere, no I’m- I’m still here.” He gives her a look and she sighs, leaning in to kiss him and grumble unhappily against his lips. “Everyday you make it harder and harder to like profilers.”

Humming, he kissed her a little firmer than usual and she pulled back, looking at him confused. Not that she was complaining, but he usually had a reason.

“She may be his mother, but Jack loves you just as much.”

Her heart seized, hating that he was able to figure her out so easily, but not surprised anymore. Reaching to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her thigh and turning to look at him fully.

“Aaron, I--”

“I mean it dove, we love you. She’s had her time in my life, and that’s over, you are the only one I want for any foreseeable future.”

A bright smile drew up on her face, the one he so loves drawing out because it means that she’s getting over whatever bothered her. 

He’s not stupid, he knows how much that bothered her at the start, and it had calmed down slightly over the years, and she believes him completely. Convincing her brain to believe him, however, had been the most surprising thing to try and overcome. For her, however, he’d reassure her everyday for as long as it takes.

With her hands smoothing up his arms to thread into the hair at the nape of his neck, that little bashful smile overcame her face as she got closer. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Careful there Hotchner, or someone might think you’re proposing to me.”

He huffed out a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer, kissing her deeply. Not caring that there were other moms watching and awing, or Jack making fake throwing-up noises, even though he really doesn’t mind.

Only pulling back to brush his nose against hers, smiling down at her and watching the way she couldn’t decide which eye of his to focus on.

“Just wait sweet girl, I’m not having you ruin my surprise.”

Want more?! Good!

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[bloomzone]

2025: #10 take care of your mind

your brain is the most powerful tool you will ever own. YOUR BRAIN IS MORE POWERFUL THAN UR PHONE, LAPTOP ... . Yet how many of us actually take care of it? How many of us think twice about what we feed it, how we use it, or how we let it rest? u don’t rise to the level of your dreams you fall to the level of your mind. And if your mind isn’t sharp, disciplined, and protected, you’re setting yourself up for failure.

✒️..You’re probably wondering: “What does it mean to take care of my brain?” It’s simple but not easy. First, let’s talk about what you’re consuming EEEEVRY single thing you watch, listen to or read is planting seeds in your mind. Are you planting weeds or flowers? Scroll endlessly on social media, filling your brain with nonsense, comparison, and negativity—guess what? You’re planting weeds, and they will grow. Your thoughts become your beliefs, and your beliefs become your actions.

THE TRUTH IS you are what you allow into your mind. If you keep surrounding yourself with negativity, if you keep replaying the same self-doubt, if you keep absorbing content that doesn’t serve you don’t be surprised when you feel stuck, overwhelmed, or anxious. You’re not broken you’re just fueling yourself with the wrong things.

"So, what do you do?"

1. Detox your mind. Cut out the noise. Start filtering what you consume. Unfollow accounts that drain your energy. Stop watching content that makes you feel small. And for the love of everything pookie stop engaging in drama—it’s not worth the space it takes up in your head.

2. Feed your brain the right fuel. Read books that challenge you. Listen to podcasts that inspire you. Surround yourself with people who uplift you. And no, this isn’t just some feel-good advice it’s about wiring ur brain for growth. The more you surround yourself with knowledge, positivity, and action-oriented energy, the more your brain starts working for you instead of against you.

3. Train your focus. Your brain is a muscle. If you don’t train it, it gets lazy. Meditation isn’t just for monks it’s for anyone who wants to build laser-like focus. Start small—two minutes a day. Sit down, breathe, and let your mind rest. Because a rested brain is a powerful brain.

4. Protect your energy it mean it’s about who you let into your space. People can either fuel your fire or extinguish it. If someone in your life constantly drags you down, you need to set boundaries. Your mental energy is sacred. Guard it fiercely.

🪧-FACT BOX !

『When you kick unhealthy habits to the curb, your brain actually starts to thrive! Imagine cutting out constant stress it’s like a weight lifted off your mind, lowering cortisol levels and giving your memory and learning a boost. Eating betteeeeer and healthier cuz those omega-3s and antioxidants help reduce brain fog while also cranking up serotonin and dopamine, the feel-good chemicals that keep you motivated and happy. Regular exercise is like a power-up for your brain, releasing endorphins and encouraging the growth of new neurons. It’s like giving your mind a fresh start every day (try to wake up early and do any type of exercise and u will see how well ur day will roll) Sleep is another secret weapon—by getting enough (6-7 or even 8 )you’re helping your brain detox and organize memories, keeping everything sharp. And let’s not forget about avoiding things like alcohol and drugs—this keeps your brain’s reward system in check and prevents it from burning out or killing you lmaooo .. All these changes together supercharge your brain, boosting focus, creativity, and mental strength. Your brain will thank you!』

@bloomzone ❕