#how to protect your wifi

[everrinsly]

a/n; dedicated to all your girl dad boys, thank you for reading!

the princess, the prince, and their queen. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

when babysitting your niece leads to a riveting conversation about princes... who adore their queens.

♡ For all your ("I tolerate kids... actually, never mind, I love them") favorites.

more reads!

જ⁀🏐ᯓ⚽⋆⭒˚.⋆🌌

The sink gurgles with the last suds of your cleanup, and the smell of vanilla still lingers from the cookie-baking chaos that just took over the kitchen—frosting everywhere, a trail of rainbow sprinkles from the counter to the fridge, and one very proud four-year-old who swore the purple pastel cookie was her “masterpiece.”

You peek around the corner into the living room to check on your niece, fully expecting to see her climbing all over the couch cushions or passed out in a sugar crash. 

Instead—

You stop dead in your tracks.

She’s nestled on his lap, her puffy tulle skirt sprawled out over his sweatpants, glitter clinging to the fabric like stardust. Her little arms are looped around his neck, cheek squished affectionately against his collarbone, and he’s got one steady arm curved around her back, fingers splayed protectively. 

She wriggles every few seconds—too many cookies, too much energy, too many thoughts tumbling out of her all at once. Her legs kick aimlessly against the side of the couch, occasionally knock into him with a soft thud, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shift away. If anything, he leans in a little more, anchoring her with that quiet, steady presence of his.

“You’ve got sticky fingers,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

She only giggles, loud and delighted, and snuggles further into him. He doesn’t say much—he never really does—but his attention doesn’t waver for a second. He listens as she launches into an enthusiastic monologue about unicorn cakes and why dolls need their own WiFi.

Her hands flap dramatically mid-story, one bow drooping halfway off her head with the momentum. You step forward instinctively, but he’s already moving, effortlessly sliding her higher in his arms and reaching up to fix it. He smooths it with precise fingers, then pats it once for good measure. 

His hand doesn’t move after. Instead, it lingers softly as he brushes his knuckles along the side of her head. His fingers find the ends of one of her curls, one of those baby-soft spirals framing her cheek, and he absently twirls it around while she keeps talking, completely unfazed.

Your heart clenches, soft and sweet and too full all at once.

She’s mid-sentence about how 'mama promised me a pony named Sparkles’ when she suddenly stops. Her little hands grip the collar of his shirt, eyes wide with a new and very important idea.

“Are you a prince?” she asks, tilting her head. Her voice is as serious as a four-year-old can manage. “You look like a prince.”

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away from the curl still gently coiled around his finger.

“Nah, I don’t have a castle.”

“But you do have the hair,” she says, squinting at him, like she’s piecing together some very complicated fantasy lore. “And your face is always serious. Princes always look serious before they fall in love.”

You snort, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“You’ve been watching too many cartoons,” he says, deadpan.

She gasps. “So you are a prince!”

He stares at her for a long second. “Fine. I’ll be a prince.”

“Yay!” she squeals, bouncing a little in his arms.

“But only if you’re my princess,” he adds smoothly.

She gives him the brightest smile. “I am! I already am!”

“And my princess,” he murmurs, peering down at her frosting-smudged cheek, “should wipe her face before her royal duties, yeah?”

His thumb gently wipes the smear of frosting from her cheek, the pad of it slow and careful against her skin. She leans into his touch without a second thought, still grinning up at him like he also promised her a pony named Sparkles.

And he’s not even bothered, just glances at the smudge on his thumb and casually wipes the residue on the hem of his shirt because that’s just part of holding a sugar-sticky four-year-old in a poofy dress.

“What kind of prince are you?” she asks next. “Do you fight dragons or have a white horse or do magic or—”

“I sulk in castles and never smile. Very popular in certain kingdoms.”

Your niece giggles again, and he lets out the smallest huff of air, almost a laugh. 

“You’d be the sleepy kind of prince,” she declares, clearly deciding for him. “Like the ones who need kisses to wake up… like the prince version of Sleeping Beauty.”

He raises a brow with the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth. “Huh. Might be true.”

Then, casually, like he’s testing her, he asks, “You gonna give me a kiss to wake me up, then?”

She gasps like he just handed her the most important royal mission in the world.

Without hesitation, she plants her hands on his cheeks—smearing the faintest layer of toddler-stickiness in the process, all juice and mystery goo and who-knows-what—and leans in with all her might. She presses the sweetest, sloppiest kiss to his cheek, the sound dramatic and wet and adorably loud. 

She leans her forehead against his, their noses bumping gently. It’s a little clumsy but so incredibly tender you swear your heart skips a beat.

“There. Now you’re awake.”

He blinks once, dramatically slow, then suddenly goes limp in her arms, tilting his head back with an exaggerated sigh like he’s just been revived by royal magic.

Your niece cheers. “You did wake up!”

His hand comes up to steady the back of her head. “Guess it worked then.”

You’re not breathing again.

Because this is unreal—your niece cradled so sweetly in his arms, her face pressed close to his, both of them glowing in the soft afternoon light. 

With his head still tilted, forehead resting against your niece’s, his eyes find yours—like he knew you were there the whole time, like he’s been waiting for you to look.

There’s a flicker in his eyes. Something warm, sharp, intentional.

“Think I’ll need another kiss tomorrow,” he says, voice even but pointed. “Might have to ask someone else, though.”

Your heart slams into your ribs.

Your niece gasps again, scandalized. “Auntie has to do it!”

He hums, eyes never leaving yours. “That so?”

Your niece nods, emphatic. “She’s your true love.”

You step out from hiding, open your mouth to say something—anything—to break the tension threatening to melt you into the floor, but she suddenly goes quiet. Her brows furrow, tiny face scrunching in deep thought. You watch the gears turn behind her eyes as she processes something big.

And then, like it’s just occurred to her, she gasps again, softer this time. "Then Auntie’s the queen.”

Your breath catches. He shifts slightly, adjusting her in his arms, and you swear he goes just a little still too.

She looks up at him, wide-eyed with a new understanding. “If Auntie’s the queen… then that makes you the king, right?”

It’s such a simple question. So innocent.

But there’s something heavy in the silence that follows, something weighty that hovers in the air between the three of you.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment. He tilts his head, eyes narrowing, choosing his words with exact precision.

Then, with that flat, matter-of-fact tone only he can make sound reverent, he replies. 

“…No, baby. I still wanna be your prince.”

Your niece blinks. “Why?”

He rests his chin lightly against the top of her head, looking straight at you as he says, “Because that way… I can worship my queen.”

You’re still not sure if any of this is real—or if you just fell into some fever dream of storybooks with princesses and princes who know exactly how to undo you without even trying.

But the way his hand curls around your niece like she’s precious, the way he speaks with that soft steadiness that never wavers?

That part’s real.

That part’s everything.

[finchandthebard]

The "tiktok ban" should scare you and here's why.

Rant made by an autistic, history-loving, chronically online American tiktok cosplayer. Please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong and I will edit the post.

Reblog to spread awareness!

This is not just about Tiktok, and it's not about national security. The Tiktok ban is wrapped up in the "Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act" which has the ability to ban any foreign website or app that the United States government sees as a threat to their "democracy." Not only that, but if the gov't didn't want China to gather data, then they would ban things like Shein and Temu (the latter which they advertised during the Super Bowl), which collect similar data that Tiktok does. If they wanted to prevent our data being stolen in general, they would ban companies like Meta, which monetarily supports the Tiktok ban and had to change their name because "Facebook" was associated with the largest data leak in history.

The documentations of the Tiktok court interrogations prove how incompetent our government is. Repeatedly asking the TikTok CEO Mr. Chew if he's Chinese while he repeatedly assures them he's Singaporean. The officials being concerned that they can't find Singapore on a map. The officials then being confused why the app would be able to have access to their wifi because it needs wifi to load.

The possibility of the US buying Tiktok exposes a greater issue in America: monopolies. The Sherman Antitrust Act was passed in 1890 that restricted the activities of large companies known as monopolies, which started out as small companies and would either buy other companies or buy the factories which produced all their materials. This eliminated competition in the market and gave the monopolies almost full control of quality and prices of items, and it was considered very anti-American at the time. Since the US already has multiple major social medias, including Facebook (Meta), Instagram (Meta), Threads (Meta), X (formerly Twitter), Snapchat, and Reddit, adding Tiktok would mean that nobody could compete with the US in the social media market. This makes them a monopoly, and it's incredibly dangerous.

Banning Tiktok breaks several American trademarks. A) the Republicans banning Tiktok are very concerned about their second amendment right to own guns, but they seem to not care about the first amendment right to freedom of speech and press, which Tiktok delivers. Of course there are app guidelines, but for the most part you have fairly uncensored political and ethical commentary like no other social media. B) the only other countries that have banned Tiktok are either heavily demonized by America or are direct targets for American propaganda (ex. China), which really doesn't make the ban look good. C) banning a social media for the purpose of censorship is a trademark of communism, which Americans are INCREDIBLY wary of.

Your country may follow in suit. Because of America's influence as a global superpower and an ally to many other major powers, America banning Tiktok would likely lead to a domino effect in other countries.

The rich get richer. There is a concept called social darwinism, in which it is the rich's beliefs that the poor must fend for themselves without the help of the government in order to make a living - "survival of the fittest." Tiktok contributed around $14.7 billion USD in 2023 and $24.2 billion in 2024, and it supports around 224,000 jobs [source]. The actual Tiktok website says in 2023, they contributed $15 billion USD in revenue and supported 7 million US businesses [source]. Without these jobs, there could be in increase in homelessness, debt, and sickness due to withdrawals (if you're incredibly addicted to Tiktok) and lack of quick dopamine hits (due to the rapidfire nature of the algorithm).

Remember that the president is not your friend !! Many of the political figures rallying to support Tiktok right now, such as President Biden, initially voted for the ban. President Biden is likely supporting now so that Trump won't get credit for it, and future President Trump is likely doing it for brownie points among younger generations.

The Xiaohongshu migration exposed the American government and its lies. The stories from American 'Tiktok refugees' about the questions from native Chinese on the Xiaohongshu / Rednote / Redbook app (considered the Chinese mixed of Pinterest, Instagram, and Facebook) posed a lot of conspiracies and realizations about the American government. The Chinese actually own their homes, they have lower food prices than we do, and they have a slim homelessness rate. Whether this is true or not, it has greatly influenced how we see ourselves in the grand scheme of the American oligarchy, and that is not something that can be suppressed with an app being banned.

Tiktok is not totally Chinese! The CEO is Singaporean, as I've already stated, and there are multiple headquarters in the US, with the main one being in Los Angeles.

In conclusion...

Whether Tiktok is banned or not, whether permanently or not, no matter who saves it or rallies against it, remember that it is harder to scare and control someone when they are in a group. And if you think this was interesting, I'd love it if you could reblog to show some support and inform your friends as well. <3

THIS IS NOT RIGHT VS LEFT❗️IT'S UP VS DOWN❗️

[kxsagi]

hihii can i req reader that is like academically smart but is also very naive at the same time?? reader would probably fall for the most obvious clickbait or something feel free to do with any bllk characters (especially sae 💋💋) thank youu but also feel free to ignore this if you don't want it

“𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦”

a/n: i read rage bait instead of click bait after writing everything, but decided to keep it since it’s still fitting 😭

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, karasu tabito

isagi yoichi

“you’re literally smarter than me, so why are you fighting with an anime profile picture?” 

you’re writing a full essay in the comments under a rage bait post that says “math is fake and only lazy people like numbers.” 

“love. they want you to argue. that’s the whole point. it’s bait.” 

you, while typing aggressively: “it’s the principle.” 

isagi literally has to pry the phone out of your hands. 

“they’re trolling. why are you citing academic sources in a thread about flat earth?” 

alternates between being impressed and deeply concerned. 

“you’re so smart it’s scary. and yet, you just fell for a post that said ‘gravity is a scam made by the big ladder.’” 

will still throw slurs under his fake account at anyone that tries to come after you. 

itoshi rin

“get off the internet. log off. i’m blocking you from twitter.” 

you: reading a post that says “the mitochondria isn’t real.” 

also you: seeing red. 

he watches you scroll past rage bait like, “no... don't take the bait... dammit.” 

“you know better. you literally know better.” 

gets mad with you but refuses to engage. 

he’s just staring at you spiraling over a troll who said “logic is fake” and muttering, “wtf is wrong with this generation.” 

turns off your wifi like a concerned parent. 

“you’re not arguing with someone named @cattboysupreme69. go read a book.” 

kaiser michael

“you’re falling for rage bait again, huh? i love this dumb little hobby of yours.” 

finds it hilarious that you get so fired up over random garbage takes. 

literally records you pacing and ranting about how “emotions are valid sources of decision making, actually.” 

“schatz, you’re a valedictorian. why are you beefing with someone who said ‘plants don’t have feelings so vegans are evil’?” 

fully encourages it for fun. 

“no, no, quote them. let’s go viral.” 

brags to his teammates like, “my girl’s a genius and also beefing with half of conspiracy tik tok. goals.” 

secretly reports every troll you argue with behind the scenes. he’s protective in a petty, passive-aggressive way. 

itoshi sae

“this is why i hate people. and also why you shouldn’t be online unsupervised.” 

you fell into a rage trap that said “women don’t belong in STEM.” 

sae, watching you rage-type a dissertation just said, “block them and move on.” 

you: “no. they need to be educated.” 

he takes your phone. 

“they don’t. they have 12 followers and use comic sans unironically.” 

quietly annoyed but impressed that you always come with facts. 

lowkey reads your arguments later and thinks, “damn. my girl snapped.” 

would absolutely start threatening people if they get too bold with you. 

“she might be arguing like it’s a thesis defense, but if any of you make her cry, i’m breaking your nose.” 

shidou ryusei

“babe, you’re smart as hell, but you’re also fighting with rage bait like it personally insulted your dog.” 

thinks it’s hilarious. 

“they said books are just dead trees. you really gonna let that slide?” 

you: frothing with rage “i will not let that slide.” 

shidou: eating popcorn and hyping you up “go off, professor! educate their ass!” 

he will 100% jump in and start trolling with you. 

“yo, babe, say something about their spelling. that always pisses ‘em off.” 

gives you an award when you get someone to delete their comment. 

“queen behavior. love that for you.” 

nagi seishiro

“can we not. like ever. please.” 

the most done every time you scream: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE SUN ISN’T A STAR AND IT’S A PLANET?!” 

he just wants to play games, not watch you get into a 14-comment back-and-forth with a dude named @trumpfan420. 

“you’re literally a genius. why are you arguing with people who think australia doesn’t exist?” 

lies on your lap and sighs dramatically. 

“you’re lucky you’re cute when you’re mad.” 

secretly proud of how well you school people, though. 

once tried to help you argue but got bored after one sentence. 

“i told them ‘L’ and left.” 

mikage reo

“you’re academically brilliant. and also very online. it’s like watching an intellectual gladiator fight trolls.” 

every time he hears “REO. THEY SAID SHAKESPEARE WAS MID.” he already knows what’s happening. 

you’re pacing around the house, typing furiously, quoting sonnets and throwing in stats. 

“you’re smarter than the entire room but still letting a 14-year-old with a controversial hot take ruin your night.” 

he makes tea and sits beside you while you rage. 

“need a bibliography link, baby?” 

lowkey brags to others: “yeah my girl just flamed a whole subreddit with APA formatting.” 

you’re his little chaos genius and he loves it. 

“you’re going to be a nobel prize winner and twitter’s most feared debater at the same time.” 

karasu tabito

“you’re out here fighting for your life against rage bait and i’m living for it.” 

watches you with popcorn like it’s live TV. 

“ohhh here they go. someone said philosophy is just overpriced poetry. let’s gooo.” 

he fully instigates sometimes. 

“babe, someone said gravity isn’t real. thoughts?” 

you start ranting, and he just grins like an agent of chaos. 

“why are you like this?” 

“why are you like this?” 

says he’ll block the trolls for you. ends up ratioing them with memes instead. 

y’all are the duo that trolls the trolls and then drops a full essay for fun. 

if anyone dares say “women can’t argue,” karasu just goes, “you sure about that?” and lets you annihilate them in 5k characters. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[4suke]

return.

tsukishima kei x reader oneshot, fluff/angst, exes to lovers crossposted on ao3 as higashikatas.

his undoing first came in the form of a thick white envelope stamped in curlicues of golden ink.

SHIMIZU KIYOKO WEDS TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE! reads the stiff card inside and he allows a small smile to appear on his face, before opening his messages and congratulating them both. he won’t deny that he’s happy for them; they’re the only high school couple he knew that ever truly worked out. never mind the fact that it felt vaguely like a slap in the face when he thought about his own first romance.

now, kei’s thinking to himself that maybe he should have been a dick and not shown up. the wheedling and whining of all his ex-upperclassmen would have been preferable to the scene unfolding before his eyes right now.

it was stupid of him to not consider that you would be here too… but wasn’t that the point of the last seven years? the amount of time it had taken for him to forget about you felt pathetic in itself. the amount of time it took for all that work to be undone was even worse.

you were laughing. head tilted back, eyes crinkled and your hair cascading down your back. he doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see that it’s grown longer- a lot changes in seven years, he has to remind himself. you’re being twirled around by hinata, who’s own beaming face only seems to amplify your joy. the lighting hitting both of your faces made things worse. kei felt like a side character now- which he supposed he was now. the chapter about the two of you had long been shut.

he doesn’t know how long passes before the song comes to an end. hinata bows low over your hand, pretending to bite your finger instead of kissing it, and you both start giggling all over again. you glance away from hinata for a second, collecting your breath, and your gaze slides onto him.

it’s like time has stopped (as cheesy as it feels) and neither of you have changed and grown and matured; he’s still the sharp-tongued, short-tempered high school boy and you’re still the beautiful, perfect high school girl who would playfully place daisy chains in his hair before a game and grin when he took them off and tucked them protectively into his backpack. the same girl who intertwined hands with his during video games just to mess with him and crow over his loss. the same girl who kissed his swollen eyelids on the rare occasions he let himself cry. the same girl who told him you loved him every single night without fail.

your grin falters and the facade is broken. nodding in response to something kageyama is saying, you duck your head and slip away.

kei doesn’t blame you in the slightest.

the rest of the afternoon seems to pass like a blur. he vaguely remembers sugawara cackling about ennoshita being the one to catch the bouquet and yamaguchi hovering by his elbow for a few minutes talking animatedly before wandering off with yachi, until he ends up at a table alone watching everyone else on the dance floor.

“i know being a bitter asshole is kind of your trademark, but could you try to tamp it down a bit?” you side eye him while taking a sip from your drink, passing him an identical glass. “it’s a wedding. be nice. don’t scare the children.”

he’s not sure if he jolted with the surprise, but can you blame him? the last time you spoke was the five minute video call seven years ago when he’d ended the horribly optimistic and unrealistic long-distance relationship the two of you had vainly kept up almost half a year into college. the shitty wifi connection had done nothing to hide the wetness in your eyes and he’d stared at the blank screen for almost an hour afterwards trying to convince himself that he’d done the right thing.

compared to the last version of you he remembers, the you that is now coolly surveying him over the rim of your glass seems almost scarily calm. some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because you sigh and almost roll your eyes before sitting down opposite to him.

“so what have you been up to?”

he scoffs. “really?”

“really.”

he fiddles with his cuff. “i graduated.”

you nod. “tadashi showed me pictures. your hair was longer.”

“yeah. i’m working at the museum now.”

“just like you’d always wanted,” you murmur, smiling. it doesn’t reach your eyes.

all i’ve ever wanted is you, kei wants to cry out. instead, like the coward he is, he manages a weak nod and watches you take another sip of your wine.

the silence stretches awkwardly and you make to get up, murmuring something about going to get another drink.

he can’t have that. he knows if you walk away now, he’ll never see you again, so he grabs your wrist desperately. “what about you?”

you stare at his hand, an indecipherable look in your eyes. “i graduated.”

“yamaguchi didn’t show me any pictures.”

“yeah. he and shoyo also made me block you from seeing them. they said i should let you die of curiosity while i moved on and that it was what you deserved for being a jerk.” your voice tapers off awkwardly and kei feels like he’s been dunked in an ice bath.

“you and hinata… are you…” he can’t bring himself to say it.

you raise an eyebrow. “this is none of your business, but no.”

“i know,” he says a little too quickly. “sorry.”

“i’m working at that firm, by the way,” you continue. “just like i-”

“-always wanted,” you both say in unison. you give him a faint smile and he tentatively loosens the grip on your wrist, moving to intertwine his fingers with yours. you don’t stop him.

he doesn’t make an effort to continue the conversation from there, terrified of ruining something and making you leave all over again. meanwhile, the party is slowly dying down- the speakers are blaring progressively less aggressive music, and most of the dance floor has split up from larger dance groups to couples swaying together in each other's' arms. he watches as your eyes follow tanaka and shimizu (except technically she’s a tanaka too now) smiling softly at each other in the middle of it all.

the last dance is announced, and kei clears his throat. “do you want to…?”

you turn back towards him, raising an eyebrow. “you don’t dance in public.”

“a lot changes in seven years.”

“fair enough.” you let kei lead you between the dancers, hand never leaving his, and curl your other one around his shoulder. his other hand finds itself gently on your waist, unsure of the exact amount of distance to be putting between the two of you. this brings another hint of a smile to your face, and you effectively close the gap. your head is almost leaned on his chest and he’s sure you can hear his heartbeat as you take a deep inhale.

“was there anyone else?” you ask suddenly, and he almost trips.

“just one,” he says carefully. “girl in anthropology named miyawaki all through junior year. and some one night stands. you?”

you hum. “engineering guy named nakamura for a year and a half. that was all.”

was he better than me? he wants to ask. handsomer? funnier? kinder? what was it that made you stay with him for almost two whole years? most of all, he wants to know why you broke up. apparently you’re thinking on similar lines, because you beat her to the question.

“so why did you end it with her?”

“why did you end it with him ?” he doesn’t mean to rebuff your question with another one- his defense mechanisms are kicking in.

you shoot him an unimpressed look. “why do you think?”

he nods, smiling slightly. “me too. i think.”

“crazy.” your smile reaches your eyes this time. “still in love with me after all this time.”

“how could i not be?” he shifts you closer to him, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his hand tighter around yours.

“why’d you do it, then?” you mumble into his jacket.

“do what?”

“tsukki.” you graze his knuckle with a sharp nail tip.

he sighs. “it would’ve been hard. i was just trying to stop it before it got too hard.”

“selfish,” you mutter. “considering how it was harder for me without you.”

“it was harder for me too.” he swallows, holding you even closer. “and i’m sorry.”

you don’t respond, but he feels the hand on his shoulder curl tighter into the fabric of his jacket, and allows himself to smile a little.

“you still know me better than anyone else,” you say. “and we’re both never getting over each other.”

“you’re saying you want to…” he can’t finish the sentence, terrified of having misread the room horribly.

“yeah.” for the first time, he hears some nervousness leak into your voice. “maybe we had to grow apart before we-”

“-came back together,” you say together, him finishing your sentence for the second time that afternoon.

you tilt your head upwards, brushing noses. “and i know you better than anyone else too, tsukishima kei”

“can i kiss you?” he murmurs, hand coming up from your waist to cup your face gently. you don’t even respond, simply going up on your tiptoes to meet his lips.

seven years and two broken hearts and oceans of what-ifs and broken promises later, he’s still a boy in love with the same girl. if he imagines it just right, it’s exactly like your first kiss on the steps of the volleyball team’s gym, the warm summer breeze and bright stars above the only witnesses. like then, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, the one thing he knows he’ll never get tired of.

neither of you notice your upperclassmen breaking out into frenzied whoops, money exchanging hands, pictures being taken. but none of that matters- because right here in your arms, he’s never felt more complete. when you pull away, he knows you, the only other person that knows kei more than anyone in the world, who knows exactly how he feels with a single look into his eyes, feels exactly the same way.

beaming like the sun itself, you kiss him again.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Omg I love your writing can you please do a smut fic for Bruce Wayne’s wife asking him to be rough with her like asking to be spanked and chocked because he keeps treating her like she’s fragile and refuse to be rough in bed, she’s really small in stature so he’s always been scared of actually hurting her but she finally convinces him to finally be rough with her. Please ❤️❤️

GRRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ON THIS ONE ABSOLUTELYYY

Sorry this one took a while to write, just had a major snowstorm recently that made a tree fall on the powerlines to my house. Currently running on mobile data to write this bc I won't have wifi till Sunday😀

Like You're Made of Glass

Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader

Smut and a bit of fluff mixed in.

Alsooo!!! As per the request, the reader is depicted to be quite a fair bit smaller than Bruce, but if anybody wants a Plus Sized reader fic, Im totally down! We love body positivity over here, no matter who you are💜

"Come on, Bruce," Your voice is barely more than a soft, seductive whisper as your arms wrap around his broad, toned shoulders, "I'm not made of glass, you know." Bruce has been at it for hours at this point, the posture of his back absolutely suffering as he continues filling out paperwork at his desk. You would honestly be lying if you said it wasn't attractive, though: driven men are just so... Admirable.

Bruce couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, despite barely glancing up from his patrol reports as you hug him from behind. "No, you're not," Your husband agrees softly, his voice, albeit slightly gruff from disuse over the past few hours, filling the study air with such a soothing melody. "But you are my wife. And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mrs. Wayne vowed that she would keep herself safe from any potential threat the night before we got married. That does include myself, for your information."

A soft huff falls from your lips at that, the sound echoing through the, otherwise silent, secured office. "And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mr. Wayne vowed to do anything for my happiness on our wedding day," The tease leaves your mouth as it finds it's way to his neck, the sound slightly muffled as you press soft, loving kisses to his tense muscles. "You promised a unicorn, if I wanted it."

He really couldn't help but crack a soft smile at that, which was a rare sight from the, otherwise stoic, Batman. A deep breath and slight sigh escapes his mouth as the pen leaves his hands and rests on the piles of milky, white papers. Bruce couldn't help but let his head fall to the side slightly to rest upon your cheek, which is still burried into the crook of his neck.

"I did promise you a unicorn," He agrees yet again in an even softer tone. That was the tone he used when he considered caving to his darling wife's pleading (which he almost always did). "And your happiness," Bruce adds after a moment as he lets his weary eyes flutter closed, breathing in your familiar and comforting scent.

“But happiness isn’t just about unicorns and fairy tales, Bruce,” you respond, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. The warmth in your eyes contrasts the cool sterility of the office, sparking something intense in the depths of his dark eyes. “It’s also about being able to live fully in every aspect, even between us.”

He furrows his brow slightly, processing your words, but he can't deny the heat rising from where your bodies almost touch and how it made his pants feel just that bit tighter. You have a way of igniting feelings he'd long buried under layers of duty and responsibility. “I just… I want you safe,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

“I know you do,” you assure him, reaching out to trace your fingers along the strong line of his jaw. “But sometimes, I need you to let go—just a little. You don’t always have to protect me. I’m not a delicate flower needing shelter from the storm. I can handle more than you think.”

A flicker of uncertainty dances across his sharp features as he considers your request. His instincts scream at him to be careful, to treat you with the utmost caution. It feels impossible to shake the weight of years spent fighting villains and guarding against any potential harm. But then again, you’ve never been one to shrink back from challenges.

“And what exactly are you suggesting?” he questions, half-teasing, half-serious, lifting an eyebrow. The tension in the spacious office thrummed with electricity, and his heart raced in anticipation of your answer.

Your lips curl into a confident smile, emboldened by a newfound sense of liberation. “I’m saying… I want you to be you,” you say, your voice steady and full of promise. “The true you. Your passion is part of who you are, Bruce. Embrace it—embrace me. Let’s shake things up a bit.”

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the playful challenge hanging thick between you. “You mean you want the Batman?” he asks, his voice lowering further, laced with a darker edge that sends a thrill coursing through you.

“Exactly.” You lean closer, your breath fanning over his skin, whispering sweetly, “I want you to show me how much you can handle without worrying if it will break me.”

Bruce studies you closely, weighing the implications of your daring invitation. What if he lost control? What if he did hurt you, despite knowing you were more than capable of taking care of yourself? But then again, this was another side of you he had never truly explored. This vulnerable yet fierce woman in front of him—the perfect blend of softness and strength.

“Alright,” he finally concedes, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “But if I lose myself—”

“You won’t,” you interrupt, capturing his gaze with yours. “Trust me. Just let go.”

In that moment, the barriers that had always kept him restrained began to crumble. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting a spark that felt both electrifying and intoxicating. The gentle brush of your mouths transformed into something deeper, more fervent, an unspoken promise exchanged in the heated embrace.

The tension of the day melted away, replaced by the rhythm of inspiration and passion. As you pulled him closer, your body pressed firmly against his, the world outside ceased to exist. Time stood still in the sanctity of the study as both of you surrendered to the moment, determined to reveal the hidden depths of your love for one another.

Bruce's hands found your waist, gripping the soft fabric of your shirt as he deepened the kiss, seeking to possess and protect all at once. There was urgency in his movements now, a storm brewing beneath the surface that had long been contained. Your heart raced at the primal energy radiating from him, and you could feel the anticipation thrumming through every fiber of your being.

Breaking the kiss, his breath was heavy and warm against your lips. "You want me to be rougher, then," he murmured, almost as if solidifying the agreement into existence. "Is that what you really want?"

You nodded vigorously, feeling your cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and desire. “Yes, Bruce. I’m ready. Just… take care of me afterward.”

With that affirmation ringing in his ears like a battle cry, Bruce transitioned effortlessly into this new role — the man beneath the mask, the guardian who had finally allowed vulnerability within the sanctuary of your shared intimacy.

He pushed you back until the desk met the small of your back, a flash of surprise dancing across your features. But before you could second-guess yourself, he captured your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. His frame loomed over yours, an embodiment of strength and restraint, the very image of the Batman you knew.

“Remember,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “if it gets to be too much, you tap out.”

“Okay,” you whispered, anticipation flooding your veins.

With a quick motion, he brought his other hand down, delivering a sharp smack against your thigh that sent a jolt of electrifying pleasure coursing through you. You gasped, not from pain, but from exhilaration, your body instinctively arching to welcome him deeper into your world. A thrill spread through you as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Good girl,” he praised, another spank following, each strike sharper yet tinged with the tenderness of his touch. You squirmed beneath him, relishing the balance of pleasure and pain, the way that every strike lit up your skin and left a burning mark of his possession.

“More,” you urged, desperation coloring your tone, and he didn't hesitate to comply. Each slap echoed throughout the office, a rhythm punctuated by your soft cries and the heat radiating from Bruce’s body. He watched you carefully, assessing your reaction, the fierce protectiveness never fully disappearing from his gaze.

As the strikes continued, he leaned down and captured your neck between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to send a thrilling rush through your body without choking you. “You’re doing so well for me,” he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone that made your heart race even faster.

His actions intensified the fire within you, igniting a need that warped your perception of time and space. As he toyed with your neck, whispering praises and encouragements, your body responded instinctively, hungry for more of him, more of this exhilarating freedom he was giving you.

“Please, Bruce,” you gasped, your voice almost pleading. It felt like a confession, one that laid bare more than just the physical hunger you craved. “I want everything you can give me.”

A growl rumbled in his chest at that, a sound so primal and beautiful that it sent shockwaves through your entire being. A wicked grin crept onto his face as he transitioned from teasing strokes to something far more feral. He released your wrists, only to shift his grip to your hair, his fingers curling around the strands tightly yet tenderly.

“You asked for it,” he warned, a playful glint in his eyes before leaning forward, claiming your mouth with his again, the taste of you igniting the raw side of his nature. The kiss held none of the gentleness he usually afforded you; instead, it was possessive, driving, demanding.

As he did so, one of his large, calloused hands made it's way beneath your skirt to gently tease the skin of your thigh. The warm appendage slowly traveled up your leg, cupping the mass of your hip while his fingers slipped beneath the stretchy elastic of your panties. They were the pretty, lacy ones he picked up on his last big work trip out of the country.

The warmth of his lips was soon missed, however, as they trailed away from your own. But before you could whine at the loss of contact, his mouth trailed down to your jawline and neck, sucking and biting deep, purple marks into your delicate skin.

You didn't even have a chance to let out a small whimper at the assault on your neck before the sound of fabric ripping could be heard throughout the lavishly-decorated room. "Bruce!" You complain with a soft pout as you feel the reminants of the lacy cloth slipping down your thighs before landing in a small pile of shreds on the carpet floor.

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Wayne," Bruce didn't bother to lift his head from your neck as he gave that shit-eating grin that you seldom see. He wasted no time in trailing his ring finger along your slick heat, collecting some of the moisture previously accumulating in your panties before trailing the digit up and around your sensitive bundle of nerves. "They're replaceable."

It didn't take long for your hips to be twitching softly, your husband's index and middle fingers tortuously and slowly trailing back to your weeping hole. His warm, calloused thumb moved to rub soft, languid circles on your clit as the digits slid their way inside of you, his lips never ceasing their attack on your, now bruising, neck.

"Baby-" Your whines were shortened in record time as Bruce used his free hand to cover your mouth, squeezing just enough on your jaw to get the point across. The slight stretch of his thick, long fingers inside of your cunt was divine: you almost couldn't help it.

"Speak when you're spoken to, beautiful," his voice was barely more than a rough whisper as his lips moved down your chest, removing the hand from your mouth to undo the first couple of buttons on your blouse. "I wouldn't want my wife out of place, would I? It's not safe for Batman's woman not to listen when given instructions."

His tone was almost enough to send shivers down your spine as your hips twitched yet again as his fingers pumped at a quickened pace, scissoring your gummy walls open to eventually accomodate for his girthy length. Almost immediately, your thigh is met with yet another loud 'smack!' in the otherwise quiet office. "Fuck, Bruce..." A soft whine escapes you, filling the air with your husband's favorite melody. He'd let you off the hook for speaking... This time, at least.

It felt like forever that Bruce spent eagerly fingering your dripping cunt, but that was to be expected. Even if he agreed to let go for the night, he could never risk seriously hurting his beautiful wife by not prepping her correctly. But, eventually, you felt that oh-so familiar tightening sensation in your stomach, your clit burning with pleasure as your husband rubbed at the sensitive spot.

But, then, he stopped.

Bruce had never denied you an orgasm before. In all honesty, you thought you were going to cry as he pulled his fingers away from your cunt, the muscles now clenching desperately around nothing but thin air. Before you could so much as make a pout, he was holding his two fingers to your lips, the digits gleaming with your own fluids. "Suck."

And, for a moment, you laid there as you processed his command. The gesture seemed so obscene but, god, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on nonetheless. So, you gently parted your plush, kiss-swollen lips for him and embraced the pallete of the liquids created by none other than your weeping, aching hole.

Bruce let out a soft, pleased hum at that, pushing his fingers completely into your mouth before slowly unbuckling his belt with his unoccupied hand. You couldn't help but notice that it was tour favorite belt, the one with your initials engraved into the metal clasp currently making it's way to the carpeted floor of the study.

As always, you felt your heart give a soft flutter at the sight of your husband's hard, leaking cock as he freed it of his boxers, letting them fall down to his ankles before stepping out of them and allowing then to join the pile of scraps you once called your favorite panties. You were so entranced by Bruce you hadn't even noticed that youd stopped sucking on his soaked digits.

'Smack!'

Yet another echo came from the soft skin of your thigh as his free hand came in contact with it, the lewd sound bouncinf off of the filled bookcases. "Did I ever tell you to stop?" The tone he used was one you very rarely got to hear, usually reserved for the scumbags he interrogated during the dark Gotham nights.

It was hot.

You shook your head slightly as you looked up at those beautiful, blue eyes, now darkened with what could only be described as feral lust. This, yet again, earned a soft hum of approval from your husband. "Good girl..." He praised in a soft whisper, his unoccupied hand reaching to carefully align the tip of his length up with your heat. "I want you to tap out if it's too much. I need you to tap out if it's too much.

And before you could even utter another whimper, Bruce was sinking his girthy cock into your wet folds. He wasted no time in plowing himself into you, the hard slapping echoing through the study so loudly that you worried if one of the kids were to walk by, they'd have a horrendous image of their adoptive parents burned into their skulls. But all of those thoughts vanished as Bruce shoved his fingers even further down your throat, just barely leaving you enough room to breathe without a significant struggle.

If you had the ability to, your head would be falling back and your jaw would be slack in utter ecstasy. The most you could do for the moment was moan around your husband's thick fingers while he plowed into you, the mahogany desk creaking slightly from the pressure below. In all honesty, you were convinced Bruce would break the desk before he was through. Even then, it didn't seem like he had any intentions of stopping.

"Such a good girl for me..." This was so much different than the Bruce you were used to. Your Bruce held you as close as possible while whispering declarations of love and claiming that you're the best thing to ever happen to him. This Bruce wasn't holding you like a porcelain doll, but instead keeping himself at the best angle to ram into your pretty pussy as hard as he could. "That's my pretty little cunt, isn't it?"

The best you could do was let out a pornographic whine around his fingers, spit dripping down from the corners of your stuffed lips and making it's way down tour flushed and heated cheeks. Despite his literal decades of experience, it took all of his effort not to cum right then and there with your warm, gummy walls milking his length.

Pound after pound.

Slap after slap.

For what felt like eternity, that's all that could be heard. At this point in your sexual adventure, Bruce was determining that he much rathered ramming into your tight little hole when you were still partially clothed. It gave him something more to imagine the next time he saw you in the office and didn't have the chance to bend you over his desk.

And, for the second time that night, you felt that firey, knotted feeling arising in the pits of your stomach. As your fingers reached up to gently tangle your fingers into his, now messy, hair and give it a soft tug, the most you could do otherwise was give him a pleading look, silently begging for him not to rip away yet another orgasm in one night.

At first, Bruce debated edging you at least once more. But when he finally looked into those gorgeous eyes, now hazed over with need, trust, and love, he decided that the rest of the teasing could wait for another night. "Are you going to cum, beautiful?" His voice is ragged and interrupted by a soft groan as he speaks. "Is my pretty little wife going to cum all over my cock?"

While you nodded desperately, still begging for your release to be granted, he kept his pace steady while giving a soft nod, the hair on his forehead sticking slightly with the sheen layer of sweat forming. Within moments, your gummy walls were clenching down around his thick length like there was no tomorrow, covering his shaft with the milky fluid that splashed up onto his pelvic bone and thighs slightly. "Bruce..." Your endless whimpers of his name were bately audible over the thick digits still shoved into your mouth.

As Bruce's hips began to stutter and his groans became more prominent, you wrapped your sore and achy legs around him. "Stay," You whimpered as he removed his fingers in favor of wrapping his arms around your shoulders, almost hugging you as he kept you pinned over the mahogany desk. "Give it to me. Don't pull out. Don't you fucking dare pull out."

That was all it took for Bruce's face to be burried in your shoudler, letting out a low moan as his cock painted your insides with his sperm. Even after he came, your husband still moved slowly in and out of your weeping cunt, prolonging the ecstasy of both of your orgasms as long as possible. Had the two of you ever talked seriously about kids? No, but he could pick up a Plan B in the morning.

"Fuck..." Was all Bruce muttered into your skin before peppering your skin in light kisses, each one trailing upward until his lips met yours in a soft, loving contact. This was the loving husband you were used to. When he finally pulled away and helped brush some of the hair now sticking to your forehead from the sheer layer of sweat covering your body out of the way, he only had three words. "I love you."

Masterlist

[glowettee]

🕶 she ghosted the groupchat & built an empire

hey lovelies!! ✨

so i've been thinking about this a lot lately... like how we're all constantly connected but somehow feeling more drained than ever?? and it hit me that sometimes the most revolutionary thing you can do is just... disappear for a bit??

i literally had to turn my phone off for three days last month because my creative energy was being sucked dry by all these group chats that were going nowhere. like, bestie, why am i reading 87 messages about someone's ex's cousin's new haircut when i could be building my dream life instead??

so here's my unfiltered thoughts on strategic isolation + how it literally changed everything for me...

✧ protecting your energy isn't selfish, it's essential ✧

let's be honest - we're all just walking energy fields. and every notification, every "hey girl, you free?" text, every random zoom call is either feeding your field or draining it. i started tracking my energy levels in this little pink journal (yes, elle woods style but make it productive) and noticed that certain people and activities were literally vampire-draining me.

some hard truths about protecting your time:

• not everyone deserves access to you

• "sorry, i can't" is a complete sentence

• your dreams require your full attention

• boundaries aren't mean, they're necessary

• your future self will thank you for saying no today

i started implementing what i call "ghost protocols" where i literally just... stop responding for periods of time. not forever! just long enough to recalibrate. it feels uncomfortable at first (i literally had anxiety sweats) but then something magical happens - you remember who you are without all the noise.

✧ digital detox rituals that actually work ✧

okay so everyone talks about digital detoxes but they make it sound so basic like "just turn off your phone lol" which... no. here's what actually works:

1. schedule your disappearance (sounds dramatic but it's just good planning) - i block off "ghost time" in my calendar just like i would a meeting

2. create a hyperfocus sanctuary - mine is this corner of my room with no wifi, just candles, my journal, and a vintage alarm clock. no devices allowed within 10 feet.

3. implement the 5/1/3 rule - for every 5 hours of deep work, allow 1 hour of connection, followed by 3 hours of integration time where you process what you've created

4. batch your responses - i only check messages twice daily now (12pm and 6pm) and i use templates for most replies which sounds cold but actually gives me more energy for meaningful conversations later

5. practice saying "that doesn't work for me" without explaining yourself - hardest thing i've ever done but most rewarding

✧ hyperfocus rituals that built my empire ✧

the truth that nobody tells you is that success isn't grinding 24/7... it's protecting your focus like it's the most precious resource on earth (because it literally is).

my non-negotiable focus rituals:

• morning pages but make them strategic - i write 3 pages about my vision every morning before touching my phone

• the 90/30 method - work in complete silence for 90 minutes, then take a luxurious 30 minute break (no exceptions)

• environment switching - i have different spaces for different types of work (creative work happens by the window, admin work at my desk, planning happens on the floor with a giant paper)

• sensory anchors - learned this from a few psychology articles online, stayed w/ it foreverrr -> specific scents, sounds, and tastes that tell my brain "it's empire building time" (for me it's this fancy bergamot candle + instrumental lo-fi + earl grey tea)

i know this all sounds intense but listen... while everyone was busy commenting on instagram posts and overthinking text messages, i built something real. something that matters. something that's mine.

sometimes the most rebellious thing you can do is disconnect in order to connect more deeply with your purpose. and yes, people might get annoyed when you don't respond right away. they might even talk about you in those same group chats you left. but honestly? that's just background noise when you're focused on building something meaningful.

your time is literally the only non-renewable resource you have. protect it fiercely.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

p.s. what's one conversation or obligation you could ghost this week to get closer to your dreams? i promise the world won't end... but your empire might just begin.

⋆ psst. i made a free workbook just for you. it’s soft, dark-academia, and full of real advice. get it here: deprogramming your trauma-coded ambition

[liviawildrose]

𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝟏𝟎𝟏

the cold truth: your brain is the boss of your reality

your brain is not just a squishy organ in your skull. it’s a pattern-detecting, future-projecting, meaning-assigning machine. and your nervous system? it’s the messenger. the mood conductor. the switchboard for every single emotional, physical, spiritual vibe you feel.

if your nervous system is dysregulated (and let’s be honest most of us walking around with trauma, burnout, bad parenting, too much social media, and zero rest it is), then your brain is operating in survival mode. not goddess mode.

you feel like shit because your nervous system is hijacked

this is not your personality. this is your programming.

are you always anxious, snappy, emotionally numb, overly sensitive, tired but wired, can’t focus, can’t sleep, stuck in loops of overthinking? or maybe you feel shut down, depressed, numb, foggy, dissociated, hopeless?

you might be in dorsal vagal shutdown. it’s the freeze state. it’s what your body does when the danger feels too big to fight or run from.

and if you’re just constantly overstimulating your brain with useless content, noise, stress, porn, gossip, sugar, or doomscrolling congrats. you’re in a state of what i like to call:

✨ neural masturbation ✨

aka: mental overstimulation with zero productive output. feels good short-term, wrecks your life long-term.

but wait, you can rewire all this.

1. nervous system regulation

this is the foundation. nothing in your life changes until your nervous system feels safe. period.

→ vagus nerve activation (the holy grail):

• cold showers / face in ice water

• deep belly breathing (inhale 4, exhale 8)

• humming / chanting / singing

• slow rhythmic movement (like walking, swimming, yoga)

• touch / pressure (weighted blanket, self hugs)

• grounding in nature (barefoot on grass, laying on the earth)

→ cut stimulation

• limit social media + screen time

• no phones in bed

• 1 hour in silence every day (no input = integration)

→ rest like it’s your job

• nap

• stare at the ceiling

• do nothing without guilt

• let your brain process and chill

now relax cause first i’m gonna tell y’all about

YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM

the nervous system is your body’s electric language.

it’s what lets you feel, move, react, survive, and thrive.

if your brain is the CPU, then your nervous system is the WiFi. and let me tell you:

bad WiFi = glitchy reality

strong, stable WiFi = smooth, sexy manifestation pipeline

so when you’re stuck in fear, shame, doubt, overthinking, self-hate spirals —

it’s often your nervous system crying:

“yo… i’m overloaded. i need safety. i need co-regulation. i need a hug and some fkn magnesium.”

THE THREE NERVOUS SYSTEM MODES

1. SYMPATHETIC STATE – “FIGHT or FLIGHT”

• activated by threat, stress, trauma, survival

• you feel: anxious, restless, angry, hyper, can’t sit still, can’t stop thinking

• body: tense muscles, shallow breath, maybe stomach issues

• mind: “i have to do more or else i’ll fail”

and the way my biology teacher told us “when you have your cumulative test in a hour and you haven’t prepared for it”

this is your hustler mode but in survival. it’s useful in short bursts, but living here full-time burns you out.

2. DORSAL VAGAL – “FREEZE or FAWN”

• when you’re overwhelmed AF, so your system shuts down

• you feel: numb, hopeless, dissociated, heavy, tired all the time, unmotivated

• mind: “what’s the point… nothing matters. i’ll never succeed.”

• body: depression, chronic fatigue, no appetite or bingeing, low energy

most depressed people stay in this state, notice how nothing exite them anymore? yeah that’s the reason

this is the shutdown zone. not your fault. your system is protecting you from past danger.

3. VENTRAL VAGAL – “SAFE & SOCIAL”

• the state of calm, creativity, confidence, clarity

• you feel: grounded, happy, motivated, connected, flowy

• body: relaxed shoulders, steady breath, sparkle in the eyes

• mind: “i got this. life is working for me. i’m safe to be seen and succeed.”

THIS is where you create magic. THIS is where you’re magnetic. THIS is where you manifest with ease.

✨ HOW TO REGULATE YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM AND BECOME GODMODE ✨

literally regulate your nervous system and you’ll watch your life snap into place. here’s the top practices to get you into your divine ventral state daily:

breath work

slow, deep breathing tells your brain: “you’re safe now”

• box breathing (4–4–4–4) = calms anxiety

• 4-7-8 breathing = activates parasympathetic calm response

• deep belly breaths = nervous system reset. not chest. not shallow. go deep.

cold showers and face dips

“wtf” i know — but science supports this

cold activates your vagus nerve = instant mental reset

you’re literally shocking your body out of panic

BILATERAL STIMULATION (aka EMDR-style techniques)

• tapping left/right sides of your body

• eye movement back and forth

• walking with intention

this helps you process trauma, rewire beliefs, and regulate emotions

it brings both brain hemispheres into sync = POWER MODE

LISTEN TO BINAURAL BEATS + SUBLIMINALS

• 528Hz = love, healing

• 963Hz = crown chakra, divine connection

• 432Hz = natural harmony

• subliminals + these = subconscious and nervous system healing

layer it up like your sonic skincare.

CO-REGULATION / TOUCH / SAFETY

you are not meant to heal alone.

being near people who feel calm + safe will literally regulate your system through mirror neurons.

hugs, holding hands, even voice notes from your bff = nervous system gold.

even petting a dog. even hugging a pillow with lavender oil.

your nervous system doesn’t care if it’s “real” or not. it just wants love.

btw, i’m always here to listen to ya so 💗

now we talk about brain

YOUR BRAIN IS A GODDAMN UNIVERSE. TREAT IT LIKE ONE.

so let’s get this straight:

you wanna be that global idol, soloist, actress, ceo, dancer, doctor, engineer, model, teacher, lawyer, the prettiest face of luxury brands, walk with your head high while everyone’s eyes are glued to you like you’re gravity itself?

then honey? you better be training your brain like it’s a fucking star, like the most important asset of your life.

let’s talk about RAS (reticular activating system) — the gateway to your dream reality

the RAS is a filter in your brainstem that decides what you notice in the world.

you ever learn a new word and suddenly hear it everywhere? or think about someone and they text you?

that’s RAS in action. it’s the brain’s “selective attention” system.

and here’s the wild part:

✨ it’s programmable. ✨

so if you wake up and feed it images of wealth, beauty, love, success, peace, power

the RAS will start scanning the environment for ways to make that real.

you’ll start seeing opportunities.

you’ll meet the right people.

you’ll “magically” land where you need to be.

it’s not coincidence. it’s science.

✧ start here: train your RAS everyday

1. create a vision board (digital, physical, mental doesn’t matter)

2. make a mind movie (a video of your dream life set to music that activates you)

3. record your affirmations in your own voice and listen to them while you get ready

4. journal like you’re already living your dream —“today i woke up in paris with flowers on my balcony…” (you can totally use chatgpt for this)

your subconscious doesn’t know the difference between real + imagined.

so imagine obsessively.

protect your cognitive real estate:

aka: no, you don’t need to be in every group chat. no, you don’t need to scroll till 3am.

attention is your most expensive currency.

every time you give it to something stupid, you’re telling your RAS: “this is what matters.”

→ unfollow people who drain you

→ clear your digital clutter

→ 1 hour a day = no screen, no noise, just you

→ read real books. journal like it’s a prayer. stare into space and let your brain breathe

your nervous system is a little animal you have to soothe it like one.

stop trying to “outthink” your trauma.

you have to out-feel it. (that’s what therapist are for)

you don’t need a new life.

you need a nervous system that can hold the life you already want.

nervous system magic:

• vagus nerve stim: humming, chanting, cold exposure, slow touch

• qigong, yoga, cat-cow movements

• barefoot on the earth

• safe connection: hug someone. or yourself. or a pillow. oxytocin heals.

• rest like a ritual: sleep in blackout, no screens 2 hours before bed, soft music, magnesium

build a focus temple in your life

focus is the biggest asset in today’s world

you can’t be god-level if you’re scattered.

ritualize your focus like monks light incense:

• pick one sacred hour of the day for deep work

• same playlist, same drink, same setup every time = anchors your brain

• eliminate all distractions. wear headphones. close tabs. put phone in another room.

• set timer. 25 mins on, 5 mins off. brain LOVES structure.

discipline is not punishment.

discipline is devotion to the future you.

final rituals: become a high-frequency brain baddie

• daily dopamine reset: no phone for first 30 mins. no junk food. movement > screen.

• write “evidence logs”: every time something good happens, write it down. builds trust.

• label your thoughts: not “i suck” → “this is a scarcity thought pattern. i choose abundance.”

• use scents to program memory — perfume, incense, oils = mood anchors

• mirror work: say it until your cells believe it

• microdoses of beauty: fresh flowers. sunlight. favorite song. brain food for the soul.

• romanticize boring shit: do dishes in your favourite pjs with some music. make your smoothie like it’s a spell. trick your brain into seeing the sacred in the mundane.

YOUR BODY IS YOUR TEMPLE, BUT YOUR BRAIN? IT’S THE ALTAR.

you wanna be a superstar? then you gotta treat your brain like a sacred device, a divine motherboard, a throne room where gods hold council.

no more trash inputs, okay?

• Omega-3s (salmon, walnuts, chia seeds): makes your brain juicy & sharp like a sword.

• Dark chocolate (real, not sugary junk): boosts serotonin and cognition.

• Avocados: healthy fats = smooth thinking.

• Blueberries: literal brain magic. anti-aging. memory-boosting. psychic fairy food.

• Green tea: focus, calm, clarity.

• Turmeric (with black pepper): anti-inflammatory. sharpens your third eye, no joke.

avoid: processed junk, white sugar, excess caffeine, soda these kill your neurons and steal your shine.

CRYSTALS FOR BRAINS THAT RULE REALITIES:

wanna think like a god? wear your altar. hold your ritual. program your crystals.

Fluorite

known as the “Genius Stone” clarity, order, concentration

Amethyst

balances moods, enhances spiritual downloads, calms anxiety

Clear Quartz

master healer amplifies any thought or intention

Labradorite

unlocks intuition, helps access creativity and divine inspiration

Lapis Lazuli

throat + third eye activation — confidence, insight, articulation

(there are more so please do your own research too)

SUBLIMINALS ARE PSYCHIC STEROIDS. USE THEM WISELY.

you wanna rewire your reality? go subliminal.

subliminals = messages that bypass your conscious filter and go straight into your subconscious (the part of your mind that rules 95% of your life).

use subliminals to:

• upgrade your looks (yes, facial structure and skin can shift)

• enhance intelligence, memory, learning speed

• remove limiting beliefs

• manifest luxury, fame, love, power, anything

• regulate emotions + trauma

listen while you sleep. stack affirmations. make your own. reprogram your thoughts like you’re rewriting code. (i personally don’t cause my head hurts but everyone on the internet seems to function fine after listening overnight so you do you, see what works for you)

“OUR EMOTIONS SHAPE OUR DESTINY.” – DR. LISA FELDMAN BARRETT

yes. that’s the queen.

Lisa Feldman Barrett – one of the most iconic modern psychologists.

she said: “Emotions are not just feelings. They are predictions your brain makes about the world.”

baby. this means your emotions aren’t just cute little inner weather reports

they’re codes. previews. they shape how you perceive the world and what you attract.

CONTROL EMOTIONS = CONTROL DESTINY

if you can master your emotional reactions, you can literally start sculpting your fate.

you’ll go from:

“omg why is this happening to me 🥺”

to:

“ah. this is a trigger. this is old wiring. time to reprogram it. thanks, universe.”

USE YOUR EMOTIONS AS FUEL:

• anger → power.

• sadness → transformation.

• jealousy → awareness of what you want.

• boredom → signal to evolve.

your emotions are tools. not curses. not weaknesses. tools.

REALITY IS THOUGHTS TURNED SOLID.

“Everything you see around you was once a thought. Literally.”

somebody thought about inventing the mug you’re sipping from.

somebody thought about the phone you’re scrolling this on.

somebody dreamed of stages and world tours and beauty empires and then built them from neurons.

so now let me ask you this, baby girl:

what are you thinking today?

what are you planting in the garden of your mind?

WHEN YOU FEEL STUCK, ASK:

• why am i resisting this task? (fear of failure? fear of success?)

• what would my highest self do right now?

• what does future me already know that i’m forgetting?

your brain is plastic. not like barbie plastic (although slay), i mean neuroplasticity —

it can change at any age. any moment. every time you choose a new thought, you’re choosing a new future.

what is neuroplasticity, actually?

in plain words?

neuroplasticity is your brain’s ability to change its structure, reorganize itself, rewire its own circuits, and literally form new connections depending on how you think, act, feel, and even imagine.

it’s the reason:

• you can learn to walk again after a stroke

• trauma can change your brain, but healing can rebuild it

• habits form. habits break. habits get replaced.

• you can literally manifest your desired personality, success, skills, vibe, life

the wiring in your brain is not fixed. you are not stuck. your thoughts? your behaviors? they’re rewiring you all day, every day.

you’re literally programming your brain just by being you.

spiritual + psychological fact:

whatever you consistently focus on

whatever emotion you regularly feel

whatever pattern you repeatedly fall into

that becomes your default neurocircuit.

but that also means:

if you build new ones intentionally you become a new you.

how to activate your neuroplasticity

1. Repetition + Intention = neural pathways

keep repeating what you want to believe/do/feel. over and over.

make it juicy. emotional. real. the brain learns through intensity and repetition.

“i am becoming a global icon. my voice moves millions. my presence reshapes reality.”

repeat that till your brain thinks it’s already true and soon, it will be.

2. Visualisation = neural rehearsal

your brain cannot tell the difference between what you vividly imagine and what’s actually happening.

this is why athletes, CEOs, artists they all visualize before they perform.

wanna become a pop icon?

close your eyes. picture the stage. feel the lights. the screams.

your brain begins to rewire as if you’re already that person.

this is called “functional neuroplasticity” — building new functions through mental rehearsal

3. Regulate your nervous system

your brain won’t rewire itself properly if you’re in fight or flight 24/7.

you have to feel safe enough to rewire.

do:

• breathwork (box breathing, alternate nostril)

• vagus nerve stimulation (gargling, cold plunges, humming)

• long nature walks

• grounding (barefoot on earth)

• magnesium-rich food + adaptogens

• meditate. but make it vibey.

4. Use tech to reprogram: SUBLIMINALS + AFFIRMATIONS

subliminals literally bypass your conscious brain and go straight to the subconscious.

pair them with:

• headphones (esp. binaural beats = brainwave entrainment)

• night time listening (again see what works for you and listen accordingly)

• theta wave frequencies (your subconscious is most open here)

your subconscious mind = the operating system.

subliminals = code updates. neuroplasticity = the install button.

APP RECCOMENDATION :- manifest

5. Journaling + affirmations = mirror neurons in action

when you write new beliefs (in present tense), your brain starts mirroring them.

especially if you do it in your own handwriting.

your brain’s like: “oh wait… we’re serious?? okay bet. rewiring now.”

6. Act like the version of you who has what you want

neuroplasticity loves behavior.

you don’t just think your way into new wiring, you act it.

so dress like her. walk like her. post like her. speak like her.

watch how the brain reconfigures itself into that version.

“act as if” is not delusion. it’s neuroscience.

also follow @emonthebrain on instagram she is a neuroscientist she makes reels on brain, neuroscience and how you can practically change your life by using neuroscience

[iridescentxstars]

-> 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚-𝐳 | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 .ೃ࿐

➳ published: 28.04.25 ➳ nsfw headcanon || genre: nsfw || rating: m ➳ idol: christopher bang ➳ summary: what would chris be like in the bedroom with you? ➳ author's note: this is my assumptions and holds no truth outside of my head. please do not take this seriously and do not engage if you are under 18. this is also written from a female perspective.

aftercare

it would depend on how intense the sex is. if it's intense, chris would run you a bath and carry you into the bathroom; he'd take his time and would even get into the tub as he helps ease your exhaustion. less intense sessions are followed by water, cuddles and cleaning you up. he's always providing praise and telling you how good you were, no matter what.

body part

we all know chris is a little insecure in his body despite the constant assurances but he's mostly proud of his arms. it's the part he's always working on because he wants to be able to lift you up at any time he pleases. on you, he loves everything and makes it known he doesn't have a preference.

cum

chris is a creampie type of guy. he uses protection most of the time because he's got good sex education and knows how to be safe but whenever he's given the chance — he's taking it.

dirty secret

connected isn't about wifi. drive isn't about driving. red lights wasn't written by hyunjin and railway was written with you on his mind. chris has written an album for you, each one more sensual than the last. why do you think he's protecting that laptop so badly? he doesn't want anyone to hear the moans that are saved on there.

experience

chris is experienced. he knows what he's doing and knows what he likes. he's settled as he's gotten older and been with you, though if you are ever unsure, he's there to guide and control the situation with ease.

favourite position

do i need to say it? he's hinted it multiple times — he loves it when you are on top riding him. mostly when he's sitting in his studio, hands free to touch as he pleases or helping you bounce when you get tired. chris is a ride that you cannot handle but damn, he loves it when you try.

goofy (are they serious in the moment or more light hearted)

this is always depending on his mood or what is happening. he's either goofy and playful, enjoying teasing you and working you up or he's radiating a dominant aura that has your legs weak. on a bad day or when he's stressed, christopher kicks in and he's fucking his anger out even if he's been to the gym.

hair (grooming)

chris keeps up with grooming. he's a laser guy and routinely gets laser hair removal on his legs, armpits and facial hair but when it comes to pubic hair? he manscapes. always well groomed, never messy and doesn't give a fuck what the guys say about it.

intimacy (are they romantic in the moment, how intimate can they be…)

unless it is a quickie or happens suddenly, chris is extremely intimate. he thrives on it. he wants hand-holding in missionary, he wants sweet words whispered as he worships you and while he's okay with you being shy about eye contact — his eyes are always on you. if he can take that chance to be intimate with it, to heighten the experience and make every time special — he'll take it.

jack-off

he doesn't masturbate often and can hold out until you're together. it's not that he doesn't but it's rare because he works a lot when you aren't around.

kinks

body worship, marking, praise, orgasm control, edging, exhibitionism and oral. chris is dominant, even if he has a soft side and can come across as a switch or submissive, he knows when to take control and doesn't hesitate. while he's not deeply into the daddy kink, he is a caregiver and thrives off your pleasure and the trust you have in him to take care of you.

location (favourite places)

chris isn't really a huge fan of anywhere public or overly public but he does love fucking you in the studio. he's more of a bedroom or your apartment/the dorm type of guy otherwise. he loves the comfort of his home.

motivation (what gets them going)

your arousal is usually the top thing that gets him going but he also does love it when you get all giggly and shy from his teasing. your hands on him, touching softly, running up and down his body is the easiest way to get him going because that means he can do that to you — and he loves doing it to you.

no (what won't they try, turn offs)

public settings where the risk is high is a top one for him but also threesomes, he refuses to share you with anyone and will make that clear. he will be open to try something at least once if asked nicely but those two are where he draws the line.

oral

chris is great with his tongue, he plays with it more than he should and makes it known that he knows what he's doing with it. he could live with your legs over his shoulders and his head buried between your legs but oddly, he's not overly as worried about oral. he'll allow you to do it if you enjoy it and will enjoy it when it's happening but he won't ask for it.

pace (are they fast and rough, slow and sensual...)

unless it's been a while or he's pissed off/in a mood, chris usually takes it slow. he wants to enjoy the moment, he wants to revel in every sound, every expression and how you feel wrapped around him. he knows how to stay on beat and will usually build it up depending on the mood but on a regular? chris is fucking you slow and sensual.

quickies

not the biggest fan of quickies because they happen more than he would like for them too. it's hard for him to have multiple sessions so usually, he'll fuck you when and where he can (studio, car, bathroom, late night, early morning...).

risk (are they willing to experiment, do they take risks)

chris is always willing to experiment especially if it's something you want to try. if he doesn't like it, he will say but usually he's open and tries most things asked. however, he is not a risk taker. if he cannot control the situation or hasn't had enough experience with something (e.g: shibari) then he will not allow it until he can figure out how to do it properly.

stamina

chris has more energy than he knows what to do with a lot of the time. if he's not on the go then something is wrong and even then — he's trying. he can finish a concert, come home and fuck you into the mattress afterwards before getting ready for bed. unless he's had an overly full day with filming or being with the kids — chris has high stamina.

toys

he's got a few vibrators and different toys that you've been interested in and doesn't mind using them when the time is right. his favourite toy is the long distance vibrator that he can control on his phone and uses it a lot when he's on tour.

unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, teasing and chris go hand in hand. he loves teasing you in every way that he can think of. whether its through text, sending risque pictures, saying innuendos or purposefully teasing you to get a reaction — he can't help himself.

volume

he's a moaner, he's audible and loves it when you are loud too. he'll swear, groan about how good you feel and moan in ways that should be illegal. he's extremely vocal.

wild card (a random headcanon)

chris can't remember what you had said when you walked into the studio, wearing his hoodie and that smile that can only mean mischief. the words that left your lips when you looked the door didn't mean shit to him as he watched the way you undressed and showed off the new lingerie you had bought for him. fuck, he loves it when you're confident like this — it's sexy to him. pulling you closer, hands resting on your thighs as you straddle his lap, he looks up at you with adoration in his eyes. you look beautiful in that set but he knows you'll look even better with it off and his marks covering your chest instead.

x-ray (what's going on inside those pants)

big things come inside small packages is his motto. despite his height, chris has a slightly above average cock with a decent girth. he hits all the right places.

yearning

despite his sex drive, chris isn't overly needy. he can last a week or longer if he has to because he's always on the go. unless you are too far away for him to get to and tease him, chris is able to control his libido. don't get me wrong, when he can have you — he will — but chris' libido grows more with yours. if you aren't in the mood, he's vibing.

zzz

chris barely sleeps as it is but he finds himself able to sleep better after sex. even when he provides aftercare, he can wrap you up in his arms and sleep with you like that. normally, he struggles to get to sleep and when he's out — he's out. don't wake him, let him sleep. he sleeps better with you and prefers sleeping like that.

[azullumi]

TO HOLD, TO FEEL, TO LOVE !!

premise — the intimate act of handholding, wishing to feel one another at the tip of the fingers; what are hands made for if not to hold one another? content tags — various characters with gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, hands are mentioned multiple times, my small headcanons of their hands, not proofread, 0.7k words ; headcanons

note from me — something small and simple for me because i have 3 lengthy fic series (or events) in my drafts for all of you <33 also i dont have wifi here and just relying on data so im barely surviving

SUNDAY, he held the sun once; he held your hand. His hands are slender and bony, delicate and gentle yet his hold on yours is firm and tight—as if he doesn’t want you to let go nor does he want to let go of you. For him, it’s a way of protection, a grounding reassurance that you’re there with him, not an illusion, not a dream. He’ll always take his glove off when holding your hand, insisting that it’s much better to feel the warmth of your palms and the way your fingers fit in his.

AVENTURINE, has hands that are soft, slim, and slender with clean, trimmed nails. He uses his fingers to draw the stars and the universe on your skin, tracing the lines of your palm, kissing your knuckles so sweetly, so gently. Whenever he holds your hand, he often finds himself fidgeting and playing with your fingers—it’s a small habit that he does, one that eases and soothes the tremble of his own. The simple act of holding your hand grounds him and stables himself at times when everything feels so messy and suffocating.

VERITAS RATIO, is not one to ask for such things, at least verbally. He’ll show himself more through his acts, fragments and pieces of himself found in the subtle gestures that he does—such as the pinky of his hand finding its way on to yours, hooking itself, and letting it linger until you let him hold the entirety of your palm in his. It’s subtle, simple, delicate yet rough and sharp on the edges just like his hands. One thing is that when you squeeze his hand, accidentally or intentionally, he’ll squeeze yours back.

LUOCHA, how could his hands be more feminine and delicate than a woman’s while also looking like a man’s? His hands are pretty, fingers delicately thin and long with intricate lines on his palms that looked like it was carefully drawn by an artist. The way it looks when he’s holding yours is just mesmerizing, it’s like two missing puzzle pieces that finally found and fit into each other—he is never complete without you. Perhaps he has told you or perhaps he hasn't yet but the reason why he gets quiet when you hold his hand is because he’s relishing in this moment and burning its print into his memory so he’ll never forget how soft your hands feel.

GALLAGHER, touchy, needy hands that seek for the warmth and smoothness of your skin underneath his touch—he’s simply an affectionate man who adores seeing your hand in his. He’ll always find ways to lace his fingers in yours, always wanting to hold your hand; on the note of his hands, it’s rough and bigger than yours will ever be—years of his life honing and carving the shapes of his fingers into ones that you’ve known and always held in your sleep.

ARGENTI, an epitome of beauty and so are his hands, are the definition of it too. It’s slender, long, and pretty, a perfect pale shade that seems to glow underneath the sun, and his fingers have this naturally pink shine on them. He’ll sing praises of how beautiful your hands look, especially when he’s holding it in his—would adore it more under the light, as the shadows cast itself on your skin and everything around him feels so surreal. It's mesmerizing, wonderful, breathtaking, to think that you could be more beautiful in his eyes, even if it’s just something small and simple.

JING YUAN, has rough, big, calloused hands that never want to let go of you. To think that he had gone through a life where he never felt your skin, where he never got to hold your hand. He’s a clingy man, affectionate with adventurous hands that is always on you—whenever you’re near him, his hands are either holding yours or just on you, resting on your waist, wrapped around your figure, or just anywhere as long as he gets to feel you under his hands. It’s like your skin and his palms are magnets of opposite poles.

GEPARD, a little shy and hesitant in the aspects of affection, even if it’s just the small act of holding your hand. His face is flustered, cheeks covered with a shade of pink that is easily discernible underneath the light, and his lips are curled into a smile that beams only affection the same way he looks at you and your hands intertwined with his. His grasp on you is firm and strong but would easily loosen when you ask him to; he does get anxious though, thinking if his grip was too tight or too much.

special mentions to the wonderful and beautiful @toorurs !! i know i have already said this before but you’re a pleasant surprise in my life, and you have become someone special and dear to me. you’re an amazing friend, kind and sweet, as well as, talented <33 i aspire to have your strength and courage in situations that would have me just running away and just completely avoiding it, you’re a strong person and you’re doing amazing, and you’ll keep on doing amazing things. i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens, hoping and wishing that you’ll get everything you have ever wanted and wished for, and anyone who is a hindrance to your happiness will get a watermelon or anything thrown at their face (just point me to them)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[princessbrunette]

can’t get the slasher au in the campcounselor!jj universe out of my mind, so have this.

the two of you being held up in your cabin together with the door bolted and jj is hammering nails needles and screws into a baseball bat. anything he can find really. he came barging through your door so fast that you thought you were next the second he stumbled on a body. his first thought was you, and how he needed to protect you because he didn’t think he’d be able to handle seeing the girl he was pretty sure he was in love with in a pool of blood.

“so why don’t they just call the police? instead of telling us to just stay in our cabins and lock the doors?” you rant, panicked and unable to be still for even a moment as you pace up and down the room.

“so uh, apparently this killer is like a genius of sorts n’cut the connection. s’why the wifi ain’t workin’ and no calls are goin’ through.” he glances up at you as he gives his hammer a few final taps against the nail in his bat. he waves a finger around in a circle in gesture to the lamps dotted around, still working. “these bad boys are solar powered though, thank god.”

“cant they send someone to go and get help? i know we’re in the middle of nowhere but there’s gotta be someone out there.” you shake your head, mostly at the poor organisational skills behind the camp owners and their lack of emergency plans.

“sent our one security dude to go n’drive ’til he finds someone. that was three hours ago so uh… safe to say it’s not lookin’ good.” jj grimaces and your face falls, hopeless as you flop into the seat.

“we are so screwed, jj.” you mewl, which forces him to tear his attention away from his makeshift weapon.

“hey, don’t talk like that okay you got me n’ this badass weapon n’i’m not gonna let anything happen to you okay so… positive thoughts. please.”

a minute of silence passes, before the quiet is filled by the sound of heavy rain coming down on the window. “hm. pathetic fallacy.” you hum and jj’s brow shoots up, glancing over to you once more.

“uh, what’d you call me?”

“wh— no. its a literary device. it means when the weather in a story reflects the overall mood of the events unfolding.” you explain with a sigh, drawing patterns on the table infront of you with your finger nail. jj ticks his head, continuing on with his project.

“smart and pretty.” he comments casually yet quietly, not bothering to look up now. despite everything, you let a little smile bite the corners of your lips.

“you think i’m pretty?”

“i said smart too. damn, talk about conceited.” he jests, glancing up at you with a smirk to ensure you knew he was teasing you. you can’t help but giggle, staring at him for a moment as you lock eyes.

“jj?”

he blinks, almost like he’s surprised to hear his own name being said.

“wh— yeah?”

“thanks for comin’ here to protect me. i was really scared without you.”

the blonde clears his throat, trying to get used to the whole being sincere thing. “oh, uh. yeah. no shweat.” he responds in his usual silly jj way, telling you he doesn’t know how to respond to people genuinely complimenting him. it’s kind of cute, behind the whole confident class-clown bravado.

“you promise if i die tonight you’ll reapply my lip gloss for me? i can’t have the forensic people finding me lookin’ all busted. that would be embarrassing.” you try to lighten the moment but he senses the worry in your tone. jj presses his lips together, suddenly standing out of his chair.

“look, come here.” he demands, and your brows raise. “yes. come here.” he beckons and you do so, dragging your feet to stand infront of him. his hands seem to hesitate for a moment before they grasp your shoulders, raising his eyebrows at you.

“you— ms perfect, are not gonna die tonight. y’hear me? this is jus’ gonna be one of your many cool ass stories that you get to tell in the future when we get the hell outta here. just like — as long as you promise to mention the sexy strong blonde dude that protected you with his life when you’re… y’know, recountin’ those tales…n’shit.” despite delivering the lighthearted punchline, jj’s voice softens towards the end of its delivery, staring down and getting lost in your wide worried eyes.

you smile, a hand coming up to rest on his chest. you don’t comment on the way his heart pounds against your palm. “how could i forget that detail?” you stare again at eachother for a moment, and you swear he’s about to kiss you — when thunder crashes loudly outside, startling the two of you as jj spins around, grabbing the bat and swinging it into a protective stance, guarding you. the moment settles over the two of you and you giggle, covering your mouth.

“you gonna fight the thunder, jj?”

“i was just practicin’ alright be grateful my reflexes are so damn fast. m’like a ninja.” he scoffs out a little laugh, turning back towards you.

“sheesh, i wouldn’t mess with you.” you grin and he tosses the bat aside, deciding enough was enough.

“yeah wouldn’t dream of it.” he mutters distractedly, the two of you pumped with adrenaline as he leans in, eyes on your mouth before your lips connect, the blonde pulling your body to his.

maybe you would be okay.

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts react to their kids being disrespectful towards their wife?

💌 Reply:

Ahh, I hope this is what you wanted... I took me way too long, but I got so many ideas while writing this.

This blog is honestly turning into BTS Parent AU (crying in orphan) - I started with a J-Hope Dad fic and end up writing Dad Headcanons for whole Bangtan - well, it kinda heals my childhood lol...

Thanks for the Request and feel free to reach out 💜 and HAVE FUN reading ✨️✨️

“Respect isn’t a rule, it’s the soil we grow in. If you poison it, nothing blooms.”

NAMJOON

Philosopher-leader

introspective

values growth through empathy & dialogue

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

when he hears the disrespect, his grip tightens on whatever he’s holding, knuckles whitening

closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling through his nose

you know how his jaw clenches? THAT!!!

his voice is low but steady, deliberate calm masking his hurt

“That language isn’t acceptable. Let’s take a walk.”

Internal Feelings: 

disappointment curdles in his chest

mentally files it away to process later

blames himself first before focusing on guiding his child

Teaching Moment

Nature Walk

takes his child to a quiet park or riverbank

points to tangled tree roots: 

“See how they hold each other up? Families are like that. When you hurt Mom, you shake our roots.” 

asks them to find a smooth stone and toss it into water

“Words are like ripples, once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

Punishment

1) Apology Letter & Reflection Essay

his child writes two things

heartfelt apology to their mom, including specific examples of her sacrifices

A 1-page reflection on “How My Words Impact Others,” using a metaphor; e.g., “Anger is fire,it burns the person holding it too”

2) Community Service

would volunteer with his child at a local community garden for a weekend

“You’ll water plants and see how care grows something beautiful. Like Mom does for us.”

3) Lost Privileges

no screen time (tablet, TV) until both letters are completed to his standards

Internal Conflict

Self-Doubt:

later, he vents in his journal

 “Did I overreact? Am I too abstract for them to understand?” 

worries his calmness comes off as indifference

Frustration & Compassion

part of him wants to yell "How dare they hurt her?" but he swallows it, knowing anger won’t teach

instead, texts his wife: 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll fix this together.”

Guilt

buys her favorite latte and leaves it on her desk with a sticky note

“You’re our bedrock. Thank you for enduring my learning curves too.”

Follow-Up

Family Meeting

gathers everyone to discuss “healthy communication.”

uses a whiteboard to map emotions

e.g., “When you’re angry, here’s how we express it without explosions”

lets his child lead part of the discussion

Ritual

starts a weekly “Gratitude Stone” tradition

each family member drops a painted stone into a bowl while sharing something they appreciate about the others

the bowl stays on the dining table as a visual reminder

_________________________________________

“Respect your mom, or I’ll revoke your WiFi and your right to laugh at my jokes. And trust me, you need both to survive.”

JIN

playful disciplinarian

fiercely protective

humor as a bridge to vulnerability

nurturing with a side of theatrics

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Dramatic Flair

whirls around, clutching his chest like a K-drama lead

“Yah! Did I just hear disrespect in this household? To the woman who gave you life? Are you a villain in a weekend drama now?” 

his voice drops, dead serious

“Apologize. Properly. Now.”

Body Language

looms over his child (playfully intimidating), arms crossed

winks at his wife to reassure her he’s handling it

Internal Feelings

hot flash of anger - How dare they hurt her?

masks it with humor to avoid scaring his kid

secretly wonders - Did I joke too much about respect? Is this my fault?

Teaching Moment

Cooking Lesson Consequences

drags his kid to the kitchen

“You think parenting is easy? Let’s see you handle dinner.” 

carefully forces them to peel garlic, chop onions, and stir a bubbling pot while he “supervises” from a stool

Metaphor Time

 “Mom’s like this stew, holds everything together. You insult her, the whole family falls apart. You wanna taste chaos? Here...” 

lets them sip over-salted broth

“See? Without her balance, life’s spicy in the worst way.”

Punishment:

Apology Performance

he'd make them sing an apology parody of Super Tuna (Jin writes lyrics if they're younger/need help) (too personal opinion)

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was a fool / I broke the golden respect rule!”

complete with fish-themed choreography

Mom’s Personal Assistant

for a week, his kid acts as Mom’s “manager”

bringing her coffee, massaging her shoulders, and taking notes on her daily tasks

“You’ll learn how hard she works and say ‘Yes, Queen’ with a smile.”

No Joke Privilege

bans his child from his dad-joke sessions (their favorite bonding time) until they earn back trust

“Comedy’s a privilege for people who respect their co-stars.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt & Second-Guessing

after bedtime, he stress-eats kimchi pancakes in the kitchen

mutters to his wife: 

“Was I too harsh? Should I have hugged them first?” 

(if she reassures him, he still texts his mom at 2 a.m.)

“How did you not disown me when I was 13 and edgy?”

Protective Fury

secretly grinds his teeth remembering the disrespect

Humor as Armor

buys his wife expensive skincare “just because”

glares at hiskid’s homework like it personally offended her

cracks a joke during the apology song

“Your high note needs work, but the remorse is chef’s kiss”

makes sure his child knows he’s dead serious underneath

Follow-Up

Family Dinner Theater

institutes a weekly “Appreciation Roast” where everyone playfully roasts each other, but he'd end up praising his child and wife

“Your mom’s so amazing, she makes the sun jealous. Fight me.”

Secret Spy Mission

assigns his kid to stealthily document Mom’s daily acts of kindness (e.g., packing lunches, fixing Wi-Fi)

“Mom Appreciation PowerPoint.” = Jin adds meme slides for flair

_________________________________________

“Your anger’s a tool. Use it to fix what you broke, not break what she fixed.”

SUGA

stoic realist

quietly protective

values actions over empty words

emotionally reserved

deeply introspective

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Cold Silence

freezes mid-task (producing beats, fixing a coffee)

eyes narrowing to slits

voice drops to a low, icy register

“Repeat that. Slowly.” 

room chills, even the air feels heavier

Body Language

leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw clenched

a vein pulses at his temple, the only tell of his simmering rage

Internal Feelings

visceral flashback to his teenage self snapping at his parents

guilt claws at him

“Am I failing like I thought he did?” 

referencing his own father’s emotional distance

Teaching Moment

Studio Session

drags his kid to his home studio at midnight

slams headphones onto them

“You’re angry? Scream. Spit it into the mic. Let’s hear exactly what’s rotting in your head.” 

records their raw, unfiltered outburst

plays it back, deadpan

“This what you want your legacy to be? Noise?”

Lyric Exercise

forces them to transform the rant into structured rap verses 

“Anger’s useless if it doesn’t build something. Mom’s your hook, write a chorus thanking her.”

Punishment

Gratitude Ledger

his child must document every thing Mom does for them for a week, down to folded socks

present it as a spreadsheet

 “Numbers don’t lie. Now apologize in data.”

Manual Labor

assigns them to clean the studio top-to-bottom

“You wanna disrespect the woman who cleans your messes? Learn the weight of it.”

Tech Ban

confiscates their phone/laptop until the rap is perfected

“You’ll communicate face-to-face like we did in the trenches.”

Internal Conflict

Fatherhood Ghosts

stares at old family photos late at night

his father’s stern face haunts him

“Will my kid remember me as a wall or a weapon?” 

texts his mom

“Did I ever make you feel small?” 

she replies with a heart emoji, he saves it but doesn’t sleep

Emotional Paradox 

wants to hug his child but fears coddling

leaves a new pair of sneakers (their size) outside their door -no note

Protective Rage

slips cash into his wife’s purse with a scribbled 

“Buy silence. Spa. Dinner. Whatever. I’ll handle the chaos.”

Follow-Up

Family Cypher

hosts a living room rap battle

he goes hardest on himself

“I’m a flawed king, but Mom’s the throne. Diss her again, and you’ll rap alone.” 

his kid’s verse earns a nod

“Better. Still trash flow, though.”

Silent Ritual

every Sunday, he and his child cook his mom’s kimchi jjigae recipe

no talking, just chopping, stirring, and passing ingredients

“Respect’s in the labor,” he mutters once, and his kid finally gets it

_________________________________________

”You can’t fake respect like a bad dance cover. Nail the basics, or you’re benched from my WiFi."

J-HOPE

radiant disciplinarian

structured yet warm

balances positivity with unwavering principles

thrives on growth through accountability

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

The Judge Face Activated

the moment he hears the disrespect, his signature smile evaporates

eyes narrow into a laser-focused stare

brows furrowing into "courtroom glare."

stands tall, arms crossed, fingertips tapping his biceps

silent countdown to explosion

Voice

sharp and clipped, volume rising just enough to sting

“Hold. Up. Did you just speak to your mother like that? Do you need a mirror to see how ugly that sounded?”

Body Language

steps between his child and his wife, a protective shield

his usually animated hands now rigid at his sides, fists briefly clenching

Teaching Moment

Choreography of Consequences

”Respect Rehearsal”

forces his child to practice bowing and polite phrases

”Yes, Mom,” “Thank you, Mom” 50 times in front of a mirror “You wanna act up? Perfect your performance as a decent human first.”

Gratitude Graffiti

hands them poster boards and markers

“You have one hour to turn this disrespect into art. Every color is a reason Mom deserves better.” 

stands arms crossed, critiquing laziness

“That’s yellow effort. I’ve seen your TikToks, do rainbow.”

Hope’s Homework

assigns a essay titled ”How My Words Dance on Others’ Hearts”

must include a choreography metaphor

“If you can’t write it, we’ll literalize it. Ten pirouettes per paragraph.”

Internal Conflict

Post-Punishment Panic

“Was I too much? Did I break their spirit? What if they hate me now?” 

after sending his kid to their room, he paces the kitchen

stress-eating gummy bears

texts Jimin: 

”Hyung messed up. I went full dance captain on them 😭”

Guilty Glimpses

peeks into his child’s room later, heart aching if they’re crying

leaves a bowl of their favorite fruit with a note

”Anger fades. Love doesn’t. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Wife Reassurance

kneads his wife’s shoulders that night, voice small

“Did I… overstep? I just... I couldn’t let them think it’s okay to dim your light.” he exhales shakily

Follow-Up

Apology Showcase

makes his child present their poster and essay at a “family meeting.”

he claps loudest, eyes misty

”This… this is hope, right? Growth!”

Kindness Choreo

creates a ”Respect Routine”

his child must perform one act of service for Mom daily (e.g., making her coffee, tidying her shoes)

Dance Floor Therapy

blasts upbeat music, pulling his kid into a silly dance-off. 

”Life’s a stage, yeah? But Mom’s the main audience. Never forget.”

_________________________________________

“You’re my blood. But if you cut her, I’ll bleed harder. Fix this.”

JIMIN

affectionate empath

fiercely loyal

balances warmth with unexpected intensity

prioritizes emotional harmony

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Surprising Fury

his doe eyes harden into a steel-gray glare

voice dropping to a razor-sharp whisper

“What did you just say to her?” 

steps closer, posture taut as a bowstring

“You don’t ever speak to Mom like that. Apologize. Now.”

Body Language

hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but suppressed rage

he grips his child’s shoulder, not roughly, but firm enough to ground them

“Look at her. Look at how you made her feel.”

Internal Feelings

flash of his own childhood guilt surfaces

that time he snapped at his mother during trainee stress

his anger is laced with panic: 

“Am I repeating cycles I swore to break?”

Teaching Moment

Emotional Bootcamp

Apology Art

forces his child to create a “Heart Map” collage

photos of Mom’s sacrifices, surrounded by handwritten apologies in every color

“If you can’t say it, show it.”

sits silently beside them, tears brimming as he points to a photo of Mom staying up late with homework

Role Reversal

makes them act out a skit where they’re the parent

Jimin plays them, mimicking their harsh tone

feigns sobbing into a pillow

“Feel good? Proud? This is what you did.”

Service Sentence

his child must take over Mom’s chores for a week, packing lunches, folding laundry

he supervises, arms crossed 

“You think her love is free? It’s labor. Respect it.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt Spiral

after confrontation, he locks himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face

“Did I scare them? What if they think I’m a monster?” 

texts Jungkook: 

”Messed up. I sounded like a monster”

Midnight Check-In

creeps into his child’s room at 2 a.m., tucking them in

whispers

“I’m sorry I yelled. But Mom… she’s my soul. You can’t break her.” 

leaves a handwritten note: 

“Anger is love that’s bleeding. Let’s heal together.”

Wife’s Reassurance

clings to her that night, forehead pressed to her shoulder

“Tell me I’m not failing. Tell me they’ll still love me.”

Soft Family Resolution

Pillow Fort Summit:

builds a blanket fort in the living room

stuffed with snacks and fairy lights

initiates a feelings circle

“I’m sorry I yelled. I felt scared; scared we’d lose us.” 

“Love is sticky, yeah? Messy. But sweet when you knead it right.” 

encourages his child to share

pulls them into a cuddle pile

Baking Therapy

bakes cookies together, Jimin guiding their hands

feeds Mom the first bite, eyes soft

Dance of Apology

plays a slow song, swaying with his child

“This is how we say sorry without words.” 

by the end, they’re both laughing through tears

_________________________________________

“Disrespect your mom, and you erase the art of our family. I’ll burn the palette until you paint her properly.”

TAEHYUNG (V)

artistic empath

whimsical yet profound

values emotional depth and creativity

fiercely protective with a tender heart

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Quiet Intensity

his playful demeanor evaporates

tilts his head, eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze

voice low and steady

“Did I just hear you disrespect the universe that holds our family together?”

his tone is velvet wrapped in steel

Body Language

steps closer, crouching to his child’s level

hands clasped tightly behind his back to avoid trembling

“You think words are just air? They’re echoes. Let’s make sure yours don’t haunt us.”

Teaching Moment

Metaphor-Driven Lesson:

”Broken Vase” Analogy

brings out a delicate ceramic vase

smashes it deliberately

“This was us. Now fix it.” 

hands them glue, forcing them to piece it back

“Apologies are glue, but cracks remain. Choose your words wisely.”

Songwriting Therapy

drags his child to the piano

“Turn your anger into music. Write a chorus for Mom, every line a reason she’s our melody.” 

plays minor chords until his child’s lyrics shift from defiance to remorse

Silent Gallery

curates a “Mom Exhibit” in the living room

photos, her favorite scarf, a recipe card

forces his child to stand there for an hour

“Breathe in her soul. Then tell me she deserves disrespect.”

Consequence

1) Art Ban

revokes access to paints, instruments, or cameras until the vase is repaired and the song is performed for Mom

“Creativity is a privilege. Use it to heal, not harm.”

2) Memory Journal: 

assigns a diary to log daily acts of kindness from Mom 

“Fill 10 pages. Then burn one and see how it feels to erase her love.”

3) Shadow Day: 

his child must follow Mom for 24 hours, documenting her tasks in a sketchbook

“You’ll learn her language of love—it’s spelled S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E.”

Internal Conflict

Doubt in Darkness

late at night, he stares at the fractured vase on his shelf

texts Jin: 

“Hyung, what if I’m too abstract? What if they don’t see?” 

vowing, “I’ll be the parent who stays in the frame.”

Guilt in Gestures

secretly films Mom’s daily routine, editing it into a montage set to his child’s song

leaves it on their laptop with a note: 

“Her love is your legacy. Don’t let it be a silent film.”

Protective Poetry

writes a letter he never sends: 

“I’d raze galaxies to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Resolution

Family Portrait Session

dresses everyone in coordinating hues

directing a photoshoot where Mom is the focal point

whispered to his child: 

“See how she outshines us all? That’s why we orbit her.”

Midnight Storytime

gathers them under fairy lights

recounting a fable about a boy who lost his voice after hurting his mother

ends with, “Love is the only language worth speaking.”

Collaborative Art

paints a mural together titled “Home.”

guides his child’s hand to outline Mom’s figure

“Without her, this canvas is empty. Now fill it with light.”

_________________________________________

“Disrespect Mom, and you’ll spar with me until your heart matches your mouth, strong enough to lift her, not tear her down.”

JUNGKOOK

gentle protector

resilient softie

leads by example

values hard work and emotional honesty

channels intensity into growth

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Silent Fury

freezes mid-rep at the gym, dumbbell hovering

his muscles tense like coiled springs

jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones sharpen

sets the weight down with deliberate calm, turns slowly, and locks eyes with his child

“You think you’re tough enough to disrespect your mom? Let’s test that.”

Body Language

cracks his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back

his gaze is volcanic

his voice stays eerily quiet

“Gym. Now. You wanna act hard? Be hard.”

Teaching Moment

Boxing Bootcamp

drags his kid to his home gym

forces them into gloves, pads him up, and drills combos

“Hit the pad. Harder. Harder. That’s your anger? Mom’s felt worse from your words.” 

makes them sprint between rounds

“Respect isn’t a game, it’s a discipline.”

Breakdown: mid-session, he stops, chest heaving

“You think I’m mad? I’m terrified. Because if you break her heart, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Punishment

Labor of Love: 

assigns 100 burpees (he does them too)

“Every rep is a ‘thank you’ for Mom’s sleepless nights.”

Gratitude Gauntlet

forces his kid to handwrite 50 reasons Mom “outworks them daily.”

critiques each one

“’She drives me to school’? Weak. Dig deeper. Sacrifice.”

Tech Timeout

confiscates gaming gear until they’ve detailed Mom’s daily schedule in a spreadsheet

“You’ll see her 18-hour shift. Then we’ll talk ‘fair.’”

Internal Conflict

Regret & Vulnerability

after the workout, he sits alone in the gym, head in hands

texts Yoongi:

”Hyung, did I go full drill sergeant? What if they hate me?” 

stares at a family photo on his phone, zooming in on his wife’s smile

Guilt Gifts

sneaks into his kid’s room at dawn, leaves protein pancakes and a new hoodie (their favorite anime print)

scrawls on a napkin

”Anger fades. My love for you doesn’t. But never hurt her again.”

Protective Paradox

books his wife a solo vacation, "growling" at his kid

 “You’re stuck with me. We’re rebuilding what you cracked.”

Soft Resolution

Sparring Therapy

returns to the gym days later, gloves on

this time, he lets his child hit his pads while venting

“I get it, anger’s easy. Loving’s harder. But Mom? She’s worth the reps.” 

ends with a fist bump

Tattoo Talk

shows them his “ARMY” tattoo

“This means I fight for what I love. You’ll earn yours when you learn to fight for her, not against.”

Family Night

teaches self-defense moves

positioning Mom as the “VIP to protect.”

his kid must shield her from his playful attacks

“Guard her like she’s your last round.”

_________________________________________

[ajortga]

comfort person

pairing: sam carpenter x female reader

summary: sammy spends time with you after a long day, giving you all the love money can't buy.

word count: 1.7k+

a/n: first sam fic, just had this idea and plan on writing more of her later on. more jenna fics will be out soon:). thank you for 600 followers<3

-

Sam is greeted with the sight of your figure waddling to her after school, her hands making way to her helmet that protects her head. As she takes it off and feels the cool breeze flow through her hair, she her heart strings tug when your smile widens and you walk faster to her.

“Hi, baby,” she says, kissing your forehead gently while playing with your hair. Her arms wrap around you as soon as she places her helmet against the seating of her motorcycle.

Immediately you cling onto her, burying your face into her chest because that’s the only place your head can reach. Her scent invades your senses, sweet and slightly musky from her leather jacket.

Sam peppers kisses against your hair, stroking it softly. It warms her heart (that’s meant to be tough) seeing your slightly grumpy façade melt as soon as her protective arms wrap around you. But, could you not say the same for her? Seeing the way your girlfriend’s eyes soften like ice cream on a hot summer day. Sam isn’t the closed off person that your best friends see, not your Sammy.

She’s the sweetest, making you melt into her arms whenever you have a bad day, cuddles and kisses at night, soothing tummy rubs for bad stomach aches. 

“Hi, Sammy.” You look up at her, eyes a little tired with her arms snug around your waist as she brushes a strand away from your face, studying you.

She softly smiles at you, rubbing your cheek. “Tired?” She asks, a little worried.

You nod, “Just a little. Too many tests.”

“That’s not good,” the taller girl says, voice etched with concern. “You were up studying.” She pauses for a moment, before lifting you on the motorcycle seat, behind her. “What about this? I’ll make you feel better, are you willing to go somewhere or do you want to stay home? I have a surprise.”

You murmur incoherently against her chest, a few muffled words before saying, “Mm willing to go somewhere.”

Sam kisses your forehead, “Okay, hold onto me. When we get home I’ll give you all the cuddles in the world, cook you dinner, and turn on your favorite movie. It’s Friday anyway.”

Your girlfriend turns around and places her helmet on your head, making sure that you’re safe and comfortable before taking off, a soft vroom sounding.

You drive through the buildings and city of Woodsboro, people spilling coffee, apartments into view, parties beginning to happen as you cling onto Sam’s waist.

A turn here, brake here, vroom there. Your eyes close, nuzzling into Sam’s back. It’s not long before you two come to a stop when you open your eyes. 

“Build-A-Bear?” you question, looking at your girlfriend who is grinning at you.

“You know I can’t ignore the way you keep checking on my phone if that Pochacco plush is sold out, right? My whole search history is, “Pochacco plush build a bear” or “Is Pochacco still at Build-A-Bear stores?” Don’t even get me started with, “Why is Pochacco build-a-bear stuffed animal so expensive on eBay?” So we’re going to find that stuffed animal.” Sam scrunches her nose, seeing the way you embarrassingly smile.

For some reason, Sam’s internet on her phone works better than yours, so you catch yourself desperate to see if your Build-A-Bear plush you wanted is still out of stock online.

She ties the helmet on your head against the handles of her motorcycle, extending her hand for you to hold.

You take it as you both walk into the store. “I don’t understand how your phone works faster than mine, Sammy. You barely use it!” 

Sam rolls her eyes, “Not my fault that the wifi just favorites me, mi vida. Come on, we’re gonna get you that plushie.”

Your arm clings onto hers as you place your head on her shoulder, a way for you to show your affection. It’s always sweet to Sam, seeing your clinginess whenever you’re with her. You're skipping with her, teeth shown in a toothy, happy smile.

She doesn’t understand how you do it, she’s supposed to be closed-off to everyone except for Tara. Her sister even has to tease her for it because she finds herself buying flowers for you and making a Spotify playlist for you. “It’s cute, Sam.” Tara assures her, pinching her shoulder.

Sam holds the door for you, in which you immediately cling back onto her. Cool breeze surrounded you both from the AC, the comfy atmosphere of stuffed animals and outfits. You drag her to the Sanrio section where Pochaccos were waiting for you.

Before she could even speak, you turned to her, holding an unstuffed Pochacco while wearing puppy eyes. A smile cracks onto her face as she pulls you into her chest, “Is that all you want? Shouldn’t we get him some clothes so he isn’t.. You know, unclothed?”

“Naked,” you correct, looking up when she rolls her eyes and nods. “Yes, naked. Do you have to make me say it?”

You sniff, “Yes, I do actually. Okay, help me choose the clothes, Sammy!”

As you two hold on to each other while looking at the colorful clothing, she gently circles her thumb against your palm. She reluctantly agrees when you ask her to have her speak for the voice box. You didn’t want to sleep without hearing her. But sometimes, she had to work late, and this was a cute option.

Sam goes through the clothes, pulling out a purple bikini, “What about this one?”

You stare at it, before bursting out into a laugh. “Sammy, Pochacco is a boy! He can’t wear a bikini!”

“Oh yeah? Says who, Y/N? This is a free country!” She argues while your head is buried into her chest, the scent of musk from her leather jacket filling your senses.

“Yes it’s a free country! But I was wanting Pochacco to wear something that fit his personality!”

She sighs, relenting as she puts away the bikini. “I thought our Pochacco would look very fashionable wearing a purple bikini. Oh!” She pulls out a flying ace outfit, with pilot goggles and a fluffy brown bomber jacket. “This one?”

Sam knows she made the right choice as you give her a toothy grin. A grin that makes her smile too. “Okay! Yay! That one.” You watch when she helps you carry the outfits and your bags. 

“How about we get him some overalls too? He can’t always go out wearing the same outfit, can he?”

“I guess not,” you sigh dramatically, “Overalls would be very cute.”

You two dig through the outfits before being able to find the jean overalls. “I have another idea for an outfit we should get.” 

Your girlfriend turns to you while grabbing a pair of tiny overalls, “Oh?” She tilts her head, “What would that be, mi vida?”

The tall brunette feels your hands untangle from hers before you run away, coming back 10 seconds later with your nose scrunched, holding a familiar purple bikini. Her eyes gleam, grinning at you. “Told you, fashionable.”

You roll your eyes.

~

By the time you two are about to checkout, you both are holding a lot of outfits. (Sam insisted as she got your stuffy shoes, hats, scarfs, hell, even a dress.) It made your cheeks burn as you had to look away from her to not let a smile break throughout your face when she was looking for a “I love Sam” or “I love Y/N” shirt. Unfortunately, she had to resort to a “I love you” shirt instead. 

Your forehead is peppered with kisses when you both are in line. You let the sweetness of Sam comfort you as you nuzzle her, burying your body against her.

“Talk about a cute couple,” the two girls say behind you, jealousy and admiration in their tone. 

You two get to a register as Sam pays. Next thing you know, the Pochacco is taken out of your hand to be stuffed. A soft whirring sound buzzes from the stuffing station, fuzz flying in the large container with a bear to decorate on top. You shiver from the AC that is starting to get a little too chilly.

Sam smiles down at you, her fingers threading through your hair. They begin to stuff your Pochacco, his body starting to inflate until it looks like a cute puppy. 

“All done!” The worker says, handing the puppy to you with a sweet smile. 

The cute face stares back at you as you hug him tight, a soft song playing when you squeeze him.

“I’ll get the custom voice box tonight, promise.” Sam says, draping her leather jacket over you, catching the way you begin to feel cold. 

“I love you,” you whisper, letting her kiss you softly. You hold Pochacco up for her to hold, the leather sleeves slightly oversized. You two leave the store and sit against a chair together.

He’s cute, Sam thinks, squishing him gently as you two begin to dress him. You start him with some overalls, black converse, and a heart headband. She notices how you look so happy. It makes her heart squeeze. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you some cinnamon rolls, okay? Then we can cuddle up and watch a movie when we get home.” Your arm links with hers as you both head back to the motorcycle, Sam making sure to stay on the side with the cars on them as you two walk.

The rest of the day, you spend time cuddling in bed with a fluffy blanket wrapped around you two. You don't let your stuffed animal go whatsoever. (Sam doesn't want to admit that you brought an extra chair to make the fluffy creature sit at dinner.)

"An extra meatball for him," You point at Pochacco as she sighs, pouring some spaghetti on a small plate.

-

Whenever Sam comes home late, she's greeted with the sight of you, hugging the plushie and squeezing the voice box like you'll die if you don't hear her.

"Hi, sweetheart. Just wanted to let you know that I love you and miss you. Hold tight, I'm always thinking about you and will give you so many cuddles when I get home, okay? I love you mi vida."

You sniff, burying your face into the plushie as you keep squeezing the arm, a different lullaby of Sam playing every time.

[dem0batz]

Curiosity Killed the Kitten

Sylus x MC!Reader // Love and Deepspace

Author's Note: First I was horny about Caleb's return, but catching up on the lore has me in my feelings. No smut, just emotional hurt/comfort with Sylus. All of my LADS fics take place in the same universe and is a connected story which means MC is romantically involved with ALL 5 love interests. This is just me trying to put the pieces together that we get in the game and applying it how I think makes sense in MC's situation.

Summary: After going to Skyhaven for an undercover mission and learning that Caleb is alive and well, as well as discovering some unsettling information about the Farspace Fleet and his role in it, MC returns home to Linkon City. All of the men in her life are concerned about her sudden unexpected vacation, but Sylus most of all does not accept the flimsy excuses of her brief disappearance. Content Warnings: Reverse Harem/Why Choose (MC is with all five love interests in my au), afab!MC, she/her!MC, tracking device without MC's consent, canon-typical Sylus stalking, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Word Count: ~2600 words | Read on AO3 | Chapter List

Since returning to Linkon City after your extended “vacation” in Skyhaven, you have felt an uneasiness settling in your gut. You should be over the moon that your long-dead brother wasn’t dead after all but everything about Caleb seemed… off.

There were still traces of the boy you remember. He still doted on your every need. Was still over protective in the most annoying ways and still used humor and guilt to soften your irritation. He had never been straight forward with you, always willing to do whatever he needed to protect you even if it meant keeping you in the dark. So the fact that he deflected most of your suspicious questions concerning the practices of the Farspace Fleet was not a surprise, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he had lied right to your face about many of the things he did answer, which was new.

He had always seemed a little haunted to you; like there were things he wasn’t saying or couldn’t say and that hadn’t changed, but the depth of it now seems insurmountable. What was it they said about gazing into the abyss? Well now, often times when Caleb looked at you, you felt the abyss gazing back. Like your caring brother was gone and the cold officer he had become was steering the wheel. You couldn’t decipher where Caleb began and the Colonel ended.

While in Skyhaven, you hadn’t received any of messages and had connectivity issues with the wifi. Initially, you had reasonably blamed the shoddy signal on the fact that you were in a city in the sky and that the near-constant storms were to blame, but after uncovering some suspicious information about Caleb’s new life, you were no longer convinced it was a mere accident. Which left you to believe either the Fleet had more of an influence on Skyhaven than anyone suspected, despite what their public policies claimed, or Caleb himself had intentionally isolated you. Both were concerning and likely had some truth to them, but the former was more painful to think about.

Your phone had been buzzing nearly non-stop since coming back to the city, updating with message after message. Messages from Xavier about hot pot and confusion about your sudden approved vacation days that you never mentioned taking; Rafayel feigning danger, saying he needed his bodyguard to come and check on him asap; Zayne concerned that he hadn’t heard a word from you after Mia’s unfortunate death and insisting you check in with him as soon as you are able.

They had been relatively easy to appease for now. You informed them all you had just returned home and would make sure to see them in the coming days— you just needed one day to sort through your thoughts and feelings about the Caleb situation. Besides, what were you supposed to say? I didn’t actually go on vacation because I went on a solo undercover mission for the Association connected to the explosion of my grandmother’s house just to find my long-dead brother/sort of ex-boyfriend is actually alive and well, and is now one of the top ranking leaders of the Farspace Fleet who may be involved in some unethical practices because I had one conversation with a little boy whom they had been searching for and he seemed to have a complete personality change in the two days after his sister’s death?

It wasn’t exactly something that could be explained in a text message.

Needless to say, your men were worried about you, but Sylus most of all. Though his messages where a lot more direct in their efforts to get to the bottom of your disappearance. They started off playful enough in their probing, but the longer you were gone, the more insistent they became.  

Mr. Crow: Mephisto reported that you packed a bag. A big one. Where are we going? 

Mr. Crow: Now he says you boarded a shuttle. Why would you do that when you have a helicopter in the N109 at your disposal?

Mr. Crow: Your return date is a week from now. Did you go on vacation without me, kitten? You never mentioned a work trip.

Mr. Crow: I know you’re a busy big time hunter but it’s unlike you to ignore my messages like this, sweetie.

Mr. Crow: Mephisto lost you. The twins can’t find you either.

Mr. Crow: Where are you?

Mr. Crow: You disappeared on me and I’m worried. This isn’t like you.

Mr. Crow: I’m very unhappy with you right now.

Mr. Crow: You can’t hide forever, kitten…

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that Sylus saw the moment you returned to the city because your mechanical bird companion was tailing you again. You hadn’t intentionally slipped his detail or left Sylus hanging during your leave. It was no secret that the Onichynus leader kept watch of you and it had actually become a welcome security over the months since you began seeing one another.

It should have struck you as odd that Sylus didn’t hunt you down during your two week stay in Skyhaven but the truth was you had been hit with near constant surprises in the floating city that you had no time to think about anything but what was happening in that moment. But now that you were away and had space to think, you were left to wonder why Sylus never came for you. Why you were able to be imprisoned on a military fleet ship against your will and your mighty crime boss didn’t track you down and bust you out.

Your phone buzzes again, shaking you from your thoughts.

Mr. Crow: Look who’s back in town.

Kitten: Will you meet me somewhere?

Mr. Crow: Turn around.

You lower your phone, eyebrows drawn together as you turn against the flow of pedestrian traffic. Your eyes flit through the decorated streets, colorful ribbons and lanterns decorating the way in preparation for the New Year. The crowd parts, making way for a hulking man in a leather jacket walking steadily toward you with danger flashing in his crimson eyes, his mouth set into a hard line. It never ceased to amaze you how Sylus was able to blend in with a crowd when he stood out to you so much. He towered over everyone and had a dangerous aura to him, yet no one batted an eye in his direction.

You gulp nervously, knowing he wouldn’t let you get away without an explanation. One you still weren’t even sure how to say. Anxiousness has your feet moving quickly as you duck into an alleyway to wait for him. You couldn’t do this with an audience. Though it’s still light out, the strings of decorations above has the alley appearing more dark than usual, allowing you to slink into the shadows and away from prying eyes. It doesn’t take Sylus long to catch up, his own shadow eating up whatever light remains as he draws closer until he’s towering above and caging you against the stone wall.

“Sylus—”

“Would you look at that? I caught myself a stray.”

His fingers curl under your chin, not-too-gently angling your face toward his. That simmering anger in his eyes softens at the sight of you, disappearing completely to be replaced with concern. He reads you entirely too well, even if he doesn’t know the cause.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

You let out a vulnerable sigh, lip wedging between your teeth to combat the sting in your eyes as the relief of this secret you’ve been holding onto is lifted off of your shoulders the slightest bit. You didn’t realize just how much you had been carrying since Caleb’s return, but if a single soft look and concerned question from one of your boyfriends was enough to make you feel like crumbling, it must be a lot.

You still hardly believed it yourself that Caleb was alive and well after all this time. Had seen him with your own eyes and yet you still felt the loss of grief from his death and the sting of betrayal at his return. A confusing whorl of emotion builds up inside your chest because along with the relief that he was alive, you felt an overwhelming sense of resentment toward him.

For so long, Caleb was the only one you saw, blinded by the tunnel vision of his affection. Then he went and died before you could navigate the complex secret relationship the two of you shared only to return from the death of a literal explosion to metaphorically blow up your life just when you had started learning how to live without him. Just when you had begun to find comfort and care with Sylus and the other men in your life. They had become your new foundation in the rubble of Caleb’s place and now he was returning from the dead to level it once again. The rebuilding process had been overbearing and painful and lonely and you didn’t know how much more you had in you to start over again.

As much as you loved Caleb, he never played well with others when it came to you. Sylus thought Zayne’s jealousy and reluctance to share your time had been a hurdle but your childhood friend was nothing compared to your brother’s jealous streak. In the handful of times you were shared between Caleb and Zayne in your youth, it was always at Caleb’s command. Nothing happened without his approval. What he said went and neither you nor Zayne ever dared cross that line to try to further explore your attraction to one another. Not until after the explosion, anyway.

A gentle thumb on your jaw brings your attention back to the present, sympathetic ruby eyes grounding you.

“Does it have to do with how much time you spent in Skyhaven recently?”

Surprise and panic flicker across your face at Sylus’s question.

So he did know where you had gone, after all.

“Please, sweetie. After all this time and you’re still surprised that I keep tabs on you?  Mephisto may well be glued to your side. And that’s not even taking the twins into consideration or counting the various tracking devices planted on you and in you.”

“Sylus!”

“What?” he feigns innocence.

“Mephisto following me is one thing but you can’t bug me! I’m an agent of the law. Not to mention, where the hell did you get plant devices that can evade government detection? And more importantly, how did you get one inside of me without me knowing?”

Sylus’s proud grin widens as a thick leather-covered arm wraps around you like a vine. He pulls you into a slow dance in the alley, no musical accompaniment or reason for it other than he wanted to and he missed you.

It soothed some of the warring emotions within you, making your irritation with his stalking tendencies dissipate. Truth be told, you were grateful that he cared so much about your safety. You know Sylus now and know that his only intentions are your safety and success. Though you wouldn’t ask it of him, he would burn the whole world down if you requested him to, for the mere purpose of pleasing you. You couldn’t same the same about Caleb, who only ever kept you in the dark about his intentions.

“You should know by now that nothing is out of my budget or reach, kitten,” he purrs.

His playful demeanor slips a fraction. To anyone else it would have been undetectable but having spent so much intimate time with the Onychinus leader, you have learned to read him nearly as well as he reads you.

“What is it?” you ask, cupping his jaw.

Sylus nuzzles into your palm, a heavy sigh puffing through his nostrils, reminding you of a mighty beast that had been tamed.

“Nothing is out of my reach,” he repeats, “except whenever you disappeared into Skyhaven. Mephisto managed to follow your shuttle all the way to the city gates but the moment he tried to cross the threshold he began to short out. He had no choice but to turn back. Once you crossed over, I also lost signal of every tracking device on your person, including this one,” his finger lightly trace a spot between your shoulder blades. So that’s where it is. “I lost the ability to track you. To keep you safe. That’s never happened before and naturally was a cause for concern.” He hesitates for a moment as if afraid to ask but does anyway. “Where did you go during your ‘vacation’?”

“I don’t know where to start,” you admit as the tightness in your chest starts to constrict to a painful degree. The cardiac event monitor on your watch begins to beep erratically, indicating a dangerous rise in your pulse oxygen levels.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sylus pulls you close to his chest, resting your head and hand against the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.

He talks you through the attack, his calming voice like a balm to your ringing ears. After several long moments, you feel like you can breathe again and your watch finally goes quiet.

“Yes, I’m with her right now and she seems to be coming out of it,” Sylus’s voice drifts clearly to your ears once more. His voice tightens irritably at whatever the person on the other end says. “I wouldn’t put her in that kind of danger. I called you as soon as her symptoms began, didn’t I?”

He pauses again to listen to whatever was being said, giving you a reassuring smile though he still looks annoyed.

“I can drop her off at your office tomorrow morning. Or if you’re truly concerned and thinks she needs immediate medical attention, you’re welcome to meet me in the N109 Zone in an hour.”

Pause.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll continue to monitor her and if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Have a nice day, doctor.”

Sylus hangs up the phone and tucks the device back into his pocket. Hearing his side of the conversation, you have an idea of who he had been talking to.

“Dr. Zayne wants you to report to his office first thing in the morning. He said he won’t clear you to return to work until you do.”

This news comes as no surprise. Since an event was triggered, you would have to answer to Zayne about the cause, yet another conversation you weren’t ready to have. But he deserves to know Caleb is back. You just didn’t know how to tell him most of all. At least Sylus, Xavier, and Raf were a degree removed from the situation. Zayne would be almost as affected by the news as you, considering that Caleb was his best friend and the odd nature of the relationship the three of you previously shared.

“You could start from the beginning, sweetie,” Sylus murmurs against your hair, lips brushing your head in a loving kiss as he reminds you of what caused your heart rate to spike in the first place.

“I can’t,” your voice croaks. “Not now. Not here. It’s… too much.”

“Okay,” he relents. “But I’m taking you home with me regardless. After spending two weeks worrying about your safety and unable to reach you, I need you with me tonight. Then after a good meal and a lavender bath soak, if you feel like telling me what’s going on, I’ll be all ears.”

The sting returns to your eyes and you grip the back of his leather coat like an anchor. You were so grateful for your dragon and the way he kept you safe, even from yourself. That when you were spiraling down a vortex he would always catch you.

“I love you, Sylus,” you whisper, throat tight with emotion.

“I love you too, kitten.”

OpaLADS Taglist: @i-messed-up-big-time

[lady-luckk]

original characters:

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the wolf only needs to find you once

character: yandere wearewolf

synopsis: you should have listened to the villagers and stayed away from the forest, now you're paying the price.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ love twisted into madness

characters: yandere concubine harem

synopsis: you’re the unwilling ruler of a country with obsessive concubines who are trying to kill each other.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you reap what you sow 𖤓 pt. 1

characters: yandere sugar daddy harem

synopsis: you’ve been dating eight guys all at the same time for they’re money. hopefully they never find out about each other.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ kids are cute, let’s make one 𖤓 pt. 2

characters: yandere sugar daddy harem

synopsis: you’re eight sugar daddies are starting to want more from you. they’re envisioning a future with you. they want something that will chain you to them. what’s more perfect then a child.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ what did you expect? 𖤓 pt. 3

characters: yandere sugar daddy harem

synopsis: eight obsessive lovers think they’re the only one—until their secrets collide. now, you’re trapped between devotion, danger, and the illusion of choice.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ they're just french

character: yandere alien

synopsis: a weird alien comes to town but no one seems to mind. no matter what they absolutely no one minds. it’s like your the only one with common sense around here.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ most prized possession

characters: yandere pirate harem

synopsis: you're a mermaid / merman curious about humans. one day you swim too close to the surface and get captured by an infamous pirate crew. no matter how hard you try, they'll never let you go.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ so like, what’s the wifi password

character: yandere cowboy farmer

synopsis: while making your way to a fun hangout with your friends your car suddenly breaks down. a kind farmer allows you to stay with him until someone can pick you up. but why are the roads weirdly empty?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the accidental cult…

characters: yandere cult harem

synopsis: you accidentally start a cult after a video of you goes viral. they’re weird and obsessive. they won’t ever leave you alone. now you have to deal with them forever.

original character minis:

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sugar daddy harem bios

characters: yandere sugar daddy harem

synopsis: exactly as the title says. expands more on the personality of the eight weirdos obsessed with you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bedazzling the farm

character: yandere cowboy farmer

synopsis: you can’t cook, can’t farm, and nearly lost a toe to an angry rooster—but luckily, you can sew. now you’re stuck on a remote farm with a grumpy, overprotective farmer and a bunch of chaotic animals wearing tiny outfits you made. survival? questionable. fashion? flawless.

dc characters:

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the starlit streets of gotham

characters: yandere batfam x magical girl reader

synopsis: after meeting a strange cat you suddenly gain magical powers. now gotham has a new hero.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lights, glitter, action!!!

characters: yandere batfam x magical girl reader

synopsis: you randomly fall out of the sky and into the arms of the batfamily. now you get to experience wacky adventures with them.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my baby, my baby

character: yandere clark kent x reader

synopsis: clark kent’s love is suffocating, he traps you with his own twisted ideas of protection and care.

fanart:

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ honey-beeuwu

[cardsweetheart]

Idia tired of always being the one to get flustered. Yumi is so flirty with him and he never has any idea how to counter it. He can barely think straight when she's all up in his space.

It's not until they're hanging out in his room, separately playing their own games, that he hears a noise over his headphones. He spins around in his chair and sees her face going red, even though she's trying to hide it with her phone. Her legs kicking in the air. It was classic fangirling behaviour, but he's never seen it this bad from her.

He moves from his chair and shuffles his way over to join her on the bed. She does her best to turn her scream away. Jokingly screaming that he's not allowed to look. He's not allowed to see what she was playing.

"You've seen my game library, it's nothing worse than me." He insists. "Besides, if you don't show me I'll just check through the dorm wifi files."

With a suspecting glare on her face, "You can't do that."

Idia takes the moment of weakness to swipe at her phone and sneak a look. He sees the classic visual novel UI. Dialogue boxes, stock background image, a heart meter in the corner made sense for Yumi's taste in games.

Her voice shrieks out, "GIVE IT BACK!" She reaches for the phone but she is still on her stomach and out of range.

"What's the big deal? It's just a dating sim. I've seen you play a hundred of these."

He clicks to let the next set of text scroll across the screen. The character sprite popping back up. There is a small flash of blue before a pain hits him near his knees. He crumbles onto the bed and Yumi steals her phone back from him. He watches her frantically exit the game and shove her phone under whatever bedding she can get her hands on.

"Ow?" He shouts.

"I'm sorry! I panicked." She yells back. Her tone shifting quickly back to a pout, "You should know better though! I don't judge you for your mains. You can't just take a girl's privacy like that you know. I didn't take you for the type Shroud."

She was doing it again. Leaning into his space. Talking in a tone that made his heart race. There was no way he was going to let her get away with having the advantage. He just needed something to break her chain combo. Throw her off. Let him get a few attacks in before she's back to destroying him.

He shifts his weight so he's sitting up, facing her. He has no idea what he's doing. She was so much better at this than he was. He's a fighting games guy, not an otome player. His eyes dart to the heap of blankets she'd piled together to protect her phone. Maybe that was it. Maybe he didn't need to be himself at first. He could get there some day but he couldn't back down now. He needed something that was going to knock her out. He reaches out to dig under the duvet.

Her own hand lunges forward to block him, and he catches it. It is taking everything in him to follow through. He can feel how sweaty his palm is immediately but the look on her face is enough to fuel him forward. She's not pulling away. He could do this. His mind is working through the haze to the back of his mind to try to find any love interest line he could remember.

"I wouldn't dream of invading your privacy Yumi. I just want to know more about what gets you so riled up."

Yes. Perfect. That was smooth right? Not cringe at all. She's not looking at him in disgust. Her cheeks are starting to go pink. That was it. He did it. He's won.

His hand doesn't let go. A speechless Yumi was a rare sight and the way she was looking up at him had him pushing himself closer to her. Moving against his own brain's screaming. What are you doing? What is happening? Shut up. Shut up. Quit while you're ahead!!

"You really should be more careful." He says but his voice doesn't feel like his own, "We're in my room, alone. In my bed of all places. You can't be that stupid to not know the implications."

Implications?! What was he saying right now? Where is this coming from? Why was he calling her stupid?

"I'm the house warden of a different dorm. There's so many ways I could take advantage of the situation."

He would never! Maybe. Would this count as-? She does look really cute under him like this. How is this working? It's like some cheesy limited edition vignette.

"It's your own fault anyway you know? You're not like any other girl ive ever met. I've spent so much time thinking about you. The sound of your voice. How you'd look in my clothes. Your lips. If they'd taste like those peach candies you're always eating. What the rest of you would taste like. Knowing that if I got you under me like this- If I got too close, I won't be able to stop."

He doesn't know how but she's on her back, him caging her in. When did that happen? How? Who was he right now? Did someone hack his body and add some kind of confidence mod? His every nerve was on fire. She was so close to him. Like he could lean down ever so slightly and they would kiss.

"Tell me to stop." He whispers.

It's a plea. He can't control himself. He's not sure what powerup he unlocked but it's too OP for him. It's more than either of them can handle. Sure, this is what he wanted. her a blushing mess, but he didn't expect to get this far.

A loud slam comes from the entrance of the room. A startled Ortho stands in the doorway. An amused expression on his face.

"I heard a commotion and wanted to confirm you two were okay. Don't let me interrupt!" Ortho says as he closes the door behind him.

Idia was going to throw himself into the Styx. He finally takes a breath and feels like he's in his own body again.

Yumi's rolled herself over to scream into a pillow. Curled up in on herself. It was the same noise he'd heard before and he's almost certain he saw some kind of relationship bar go up above her head.

[lovelycrimsonredsnow]

can i request headcanons for a yandere aventurine?? please ignore this if your reqs are closed or if youre uncomfortable!

Not at all anon! Sorry if this is short I have no wifi atm 😔

~Yandere Aventurine headcanons~

(tw! Co-dependancy, obsessive and unhealthy behavior, mentions of murder, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Viewer discretion is advised)

🪙 to everyone saying "oh he'd be a manipulative yandere who's ultra possessive!" Well yes, but no.

🪙 manipulative yes, but more in the sense he's pretty much lost everything and everyone he cared about. Can you honestly look at that man and tell me his entire mental state wouldn't be dependent on you?

🪙 'oh you wanna cook? But what if your hand slips and you cut yourself?!' or 'what if you cut off your finger and I'm not here to help you and you bleed out!?' kinda thing, he will subtly manipulate you into not being able to do much of anything without him. Both out of fear something will actually happen whilst he's not looking and his need to have you near himself at all times.

🪙 he's not "possessive" per say...or that's just what he wants you to think.

🪙 but every time he brings you out to the casino with him, his arm is always wrapped tightly around your waist...perhaps even to tight to breathe sometimes.

🪙 and the aeons forbid if some guy looks at you for to long...(Which even 1/4 of a millisecond is to long in his book) He's shooting that guy immediately.

🪙 what do you mean he was just glancing in your direction? Don't you see he was obviously trying to size you up? So he could take you away where he could possibly hurt you!?

🪙 yah...ngl he's a piece of work. A hot one tho

🪙 and just like that his paranoia got the best of him. Congratulations! You're now stuck in his apartment without any chance of getting out! Ever.

🪙 you can cry and scream...(Which in all honesty will make him feel bad, but not because he kidnapped you.) But nothing can persuade him to let you out without him with you.

🪙 why cant you see? He's protecting you! Like how a loyal dog protects its owner. You'll realize sooner or later and thank him...

🪙 he's going all in for you. Won't you be a good spouse and cheer him on?

~×extras!×~

🪙 despite the two of you not actually being married (dw, he'll fix that soon) he calls you his spouse a lot, especially to his coworkers (rip topaz's ears).

🪙 he has a really hectic schedule, so most of the time he doesn't even get home untill midnight when your asleep. Does that stop him though? Absolutely not. He'll shower, change, eat....then immediately get into bed with you and burry his face in the crook of your neck. It's probably the highlight of his day tbh (other than seeing your face through the security cameras he installed in his home)

🪙 like I mentioned be his entire mental state is very dependent on you. If your angry about being locked you (rightfully so) and yell at him, despite his calm demeanor he's gonna be upset for the rest of the month. If you sob and beg to be let go he's probably just gonna cry with you...

🪙 also, something I forgot to mention before, he spoils the ever loving shit out of you. You so much as glance at something expansive through a window and he's going inside immediately to get it for you. Nothing is 'to good' for this love <3 (that and he thinks if he spoils you more you won't try to leave him)

🪙 will pretty much do whatever you want (except let you go), want him to pamper you? He's got a spa date ready. Just want a day to yourself? Well...he won't be happy but he'll do it! (He's gonna be cooing at how cute your face is through the cameras)

🪙 if you tried to leave him however...well he's deffinally gonna internalize it. Was his cockiness to much? Did he not spoil you enough? Why why why do you want to leave him?

🪙 he'll grovel and beg at your feet to stay with him, whatevers wrong he can fix it! He'll cry and cling to your legs (give this man a trophy for his award winning act), sobbing as he tells you he doesn't want to live anymore if he can't have you.

🪙 and if you don't immediately change your mind....well, that may be the first time in his entire life he gets angry at you...