#practical guide to stop overthinking

[honestkindlereviews]

The Overthinker's Escape Plan

The Overthinker's Escape Plan: From Mental Chatter to Inner Calm Practical Techniques to Quiet Rumination, Manage Anxiety-Driven Thoughts, and Find Peace in a Noisy Mind:

Have you ever found your mind caught in a relentless spin cycle, replaying conversations, dissecting future "what ifs," or churning over past regrets until you feel utterly exhausted and mentally bruised? It's like having an internal radio station stuck on a frantic news loop, broadcasting nothing but worries and anxieties, a constant hum of mental chatter that robs you of your peace. If this sounds familiar, you're certainly not alone. I’ve spent years exploring the intricate pathways of the human mind, both in clinical settings and through personal reflection, and I can tell you that this state of being "lost in thought" is a common thread in our modern, high-pressure lives. But here’s the crucial truth I’ve come to understand: this mental turmoil, this noisy mind, doesn’t have to be your permanent address. There is an escape plan, a series of practical, actionable strategies that can guide you from the vortex of overthinking to a place of inner calm and clarity.

The Overthinker's Escape Plan: From Mental Chatter to Inner Calm: Practical Techniques to Quiet Rumination, Manage Anxiety-Driven Thoughts, and Find Peace in a Noisy Mind: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

This isn't about magically silencing your thoughts or achieving some unattainable state of perpetual bliss. Our minds are designed to think, to problem-solve, to imagine. The challenge arises when this incredible capacity turns against us, when thinking becomes overthinking – a repetitive, unproductive cycle that fuels anxiety rather than solutions. It's when rumination keeps us tethered to the past, replaying grievances or mistakes, and when anxiety-driven thoughts paint the future with a brush of fear and apprehension. This article is your first step towards understanding and implementing that escape plan, a guide to quieting the noise and finding a sanctuary of peace within yourself.

Understanding the "Noisy Mind": Why We Get Stuck

Before we can effectively navigate our way out of the mental maze, it's essential to understand its architecture. What exactly is this mental chatter, and why do our brilliant brains so often get ensnared in its web?

At its heart, overthinking often involves two primary patterns: rumination and worry.1 Rumination is like being caught in a mental time machine, perpetually replaying past events, particularly those that were negative or upsetting. You might find yourself dissecting conversations, analyzing what you "should have" said or done, or dwelling on past hurts. It’s a backward-looking process that often leaves us feeling sad, regretful, or even depressed. Worry, on the other hand, is its future-oriented cousin. It involves a persistent preoccupation with potential negative outcomes, the "what ifs" that can paralyze us with anxiety. "What if I fail this presentation?" "What if my loved one gets sick?" "What if I make the wrong decision?" This constant forecasting of doom can be incredibly draining.

Why do we do this? Several factors contribute. Our brains are, in many ways, magnificent problem-solving machines. When faced with a perceived threat or an unresolved issue, they naturally go into analytical mode. This is a survival mechanism honed over millennia. However, in our modern world, the "threats" are often more ambiguous and psychological – social anxieties, work pressures, existential concerns. Our problem-solving brain tries to tackle these intangible issues with the same fervor it would a physical threat, but because there's often no immediate, concrete solution, it gets stuck in a loop, analyzing and re-analyzing without resolution.

Furthermore, past experiences can play a significant role. If you've been through difficult times, your brain might be more wired to scan for potential dangers, leading to a heightened state of vigilance that can easily tip into overthinking. Anxiety itself is a major driver; an anxious mind is a busy mind, constantly seeking reassurance or trying to control an uncertain future.2 And let's not forget the impact of our always-on, information-saturated culture, which can overwhelm our cognitive capacities and leave us feeling perpetually unsettled.

The Overthinker's Escape Plan: From Mental Chatter to Inner Calm: Practical Techniques to Quiet Rumination, Manage Anxiety-Driven Thoughts, and Find Peace in a Noisy Mind: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

The impact of this constant mental chatter is far-reaching. It's not just "in your head." Overthinking can lead to:

Emotional Distress: Increased anxiety, irritability, sadness, and a diminished capacity for joy.

Decision Paralysis: Getting so lost in analyzing options that you struggle to make choices.

Sleep Disturbances: A racing mind is one of the primary culprits behind insomnia.3

Physical Symptoms: Chronic stress from overthinking can manifest as headaches, muscle tension, digestive issues, and fatigue.4

Strained Relationships: Overanalyzing interactions or constantly seeking reassurance can put a strain on your connections with others.

Reduced Productivity: When your mental energy is consumed by worry, it's hard to focus and be effective.

Understanding these dynamics is crucial because it helps us approach the problem with compassion rather than self-blame. You're not "broken" if you overthink; your brain is often just trying to do its job in a way that has become counterproductive. The good news is, just as these patterns can be learned, they can also be unlearned and reshaped.

The Core Principles of Your Escape Plan

Before we dive into specific techniques, let's establish a few core principles that underpin any successful strategy for quieting the mind:

Awareness is the First Step: You cannot change what you are not aware of. The journey begins with learning to recognize your overthinking patterns as they arise, without immediate judgment. It's about becoming an impartial observer of your own mind.

Thoughts are Not Facts: This is a game-changing realization for many. Just because a thought pops into your head, no matter how convincing or loud it is, doesn't make it true or a reflection of reality. We'll explore how to create distance from your thoughts and evaluate them more objectively.

You Have Agency: While you may not always be able to control the initial emergence of a thought, you can learn to control how you respond to it. This sense of agency is incredibly empowering.

Practice Makes Progress: Changing ingrained mental habits takes time and consistent effort. These techniques are skills, and like any skill, they improve with practice. Be patient and compassionate with yourself throughout this process.

With these principles in mind, let's explore some of the practical tools you can start using today.

Practical Techniques to Quiet the Mind: Your Escape Plan in Action

This is where we get down to the nuts and bolts of your "Overthinker's Escape Plan." These techniques are designed to provide both in-the-moment relief and to build long-term mental resilience.

1. Anchoring in the Now: Mindfulness and Grounding

Overthinking thrives when our minds are lost in the past or racing towards the future. Mindfulness is the practice of intentionally bringing your attention to the present moment, without judgment.5 It's a powerful anchor that can pull you out of the turbulent waters of your thoughts.

Simple Focused Breathing: This is the cornerstone of many mindfulness practices, and you can do it anywhere, anytime.

Find a comfortable position, either sitting or lying down. Gently close your eyes, or soften your gaze.

Bring your attention to your breath. Notice the sensation of the air entering your nostrils, filling your lungs, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest or abdomen.

Don't try to control your breath; just observe its natural rhythm.

When your mind wanders (and it will, that's its nature!), gently acknowledge the thought without judgment, and then softly redirect your focus back to your breath.

Start with just 2-5 minutes a day and gradually increase the duration as you feel more comfortable. This simple act can calm your nervous system and create a pause in the mental chatter.

The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique: When you feel an acute overthinking spiral starting, this technique can quickly bring you back to the present by engaging your senses.6

Pause and look around you.

Name FIVE things you can SEE: Notice colors, shapes, details. (e.g., "I see the blue pen, the patterned rug, the light switch...")

Name FOUR things you can FEEL: Bring your attention to physical sensations. (e.g., "I feel the texture of my jeans, the chair beneath me, the cool air on my skin...")

Name THREE things you can HEAR: Listen intently to the sounds around you. (e.g., "I hear the hum of the computer, a distant siren, my own breathing...")

Name TWO things you can SMELL: Notice any scents in your environment. (e.g., "I smell coffee, the scent of a book...")

Name ONE thing you can TASTE: Focus on the taste in your mouth. (e.g., "I taste the lingering mint from my toothpaste.") This exercise forces your mind to shift from internal turmoil to external sensory input, providing an immediate interruption to the thought spiral.

2. Cognitive Restructuring: Challenging Your Thought Traps

As we discussed, overthinking is often fueled by cognitive errors – unhelpful thinking patterns that distort our perception of reality.7 Learning to identify and challenge these "thought traps" is a core component of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and a powerful tool in your escape plan.8

Identify the Thought Trap: When you're caught in a negative thought loop, try to identify if it fits any common cognitive errors. Some common culprits include:

Catastrophizing: Assuming the worst-case scenario will happen. (e.g., "If I make a mistake, it will be a disaster.")

All-or-Nothing Thinking: Seeing things in black-and-white extremes. (e.g., "If I'm not perfect, I'm a total failure.")

Mind Reading: Assuming you know what others are thinking, usually negatively. (e.g., "They probably think I'm incompetent.")

Overgeneralization: Taking one negative event and seeing it as a never-ending pattern. (e.g., "This always happens to me.")

Question the Evidence: Once you've identified a problematic thought, put on your detective hat and examine the evidence.

"What is the actual evidence for this thought?"

"Is there any evidence against this thought?"

"Am I confusing a thought with a fact? Or is it an opinion, an interpretation, or a feeling?"

"What would I tell a friend if they had this thought?" (We're often more rational and compassionate with others.)

Reframe the Thought: After challenging the thought, work on replacing it with a more balanced, realistic, and constructive alternative. This isn't about forced positivity, but about finding a more accurate and helpful perspective.

For example, if your thought is, "I'm going to completely fail this presentation and everyone will think I'm an idiot" (Catastrophizing, Mind Reading).

Challenge: "What's the evidence I'll completely fail? I've prepared. I know the material. I can't know what everyone will think. Even if I'm nervous, it doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

Reframe: "I'm feeling nervous about the presentation, which is normal. I've prepared well, and I'll do my best to deliver the information clearly. Even if I stumble a bit, it's not a catastrophe, and I can handle it."

The Overthinker's Escape Plan: From Mental Chatter to Inner Calm: Practical Techniques to Quiet Rumination, Manage Anxiety-Driven Thoughts, and Find Peace in a Noisy Mind: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

3. Behavioral Strategies: Interrupting the Cycle Through Action

Sometimes, the most effective way to break free from overthinking is to change your behavior and engage your mind and body in a different way.

Healthy Distraction: This isn't about long-term avoidance, but about providing immediate relief from an intense thought spiral.9 Engage in an activity that requires your focus and, ideally, brings you some enjoyment. This could be listening to music, working on a puzzle, calling a friend to talk about something unrelated, engaging in a hobby, or reading a captivating book. The key is that the activity should be absorbing enough to genuinely shift your attention.

Set a "Worry Period": This CBT technique involves scheduling a specific, limited time each day (e.g., 15-30 minutes) to deliberately think about your worries. If a worry pops up outside of this time, acknowledge it and mentally "postpone" it until your worry period. This helps to contain the worry and prevent it from intruding on your thoughts throughout the day. During your worry period, you can write down your concerns and even brainstorm solutions for those that are within your control.

The Power of Physical Activity: Movement is a fantastic antidote to a racing mind. Exercise releases endorphins, reduces stress hormones, and can help shift your focus from internal turmoil to physical sensation.10 Whether it's a brisk walk, a run, a yoga session, dancing, or even just some vigorous cleaning, getting your body moving can have a profound impact on your mental state.

Cultivating Long-Term Inner Calm: Beyond Immediate Relief

While the techniques above offer powerful ways to manage overthinking in the moment, building lasting inner calm requires a more holistic approach.

Nurture Self-Compassion: Overthinkers are often their own harshest critics.11 Actively practice treating yourself with the same kindness, understanding, and support you would offer a good friend who is struggling. Acknowledge your efforts, forgive your mistakes, and remember that being human means experiencing a range of thoughts and emotions, including difficult ones.

Build Resilience Through Healthy Lifestyle Choices: The mind-body connection is undeniable. Prioritize:

Adequate Sleep: Sleep deprivation exacerbates anxiety and impairs cognitive function.12

Nourishing Diet: What you eat affects your mood and energy levels.

Regular Exercise: As mentioned, a powerful tool for stress reduction and mental clarity.13

The Journey of Ongoing Practice: Managing overthinking is not a one-time fix, but an ongoing practice. There will be good days and more challenging days. The key is to remain patient with yourself, to consistently apply the tools you've learned, and to celebrate your progress along the way. Each time you successfully navigate an overthinking episode or choose a more balanced thought, you are strengthening new, healthier neural pathways.

Escaping the Noise, Embracing the Quiet

The journey from a mind filled with constant chatter to one that experiences more frequent and sustained periods of calm is a deeply personal and empowering one. It requires courage to confront your thought patterns, willingness to learn new skills, and a commitment to practicing them regularly. But the rewards – a greater sense of peace, clarity, presence, and emotional freedom – are immeasurable.

This "escape plan" isn't about eradicating thought; it's about transforming your relationship with your thoughts. It's about recognizing that you are not your thoughts, but the observer of your thoughts, with the power to choose which ones you engage with and which ones you allow to drift by. As you continue to apply these practical techniques, you'll find that the volume of the inner noise begins to diminish, making space for the quiet wisdom and inherent peace that resides within you. The path to a calmer mind is open to you. Take that first step, and then another, and trust in your capacity to find your way.

The Overthinker's Escape Plan: From Mental Chatter to Inner Calm: Practical Techniques to Quiet Rumination, Manage Anxiety-Driven Thoughts, and Find Peace in a Noisy Mind: BUY EBOOK CLICK HARE

[eternlmoonshine]

theoretical knowledge vs. practical application ☆ spencer reid

summary: spencer studies intimacy like any other subject, but nothing prepares him for the reality of being with you. in your arms, he finally learns that some things can’t be understood- only experienced. pairing: inexperienced!spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, lots of kissing (practically making out), intimacy, but no explicit sexual content! wc: 1.1k masterlist. a/n: this brilliant idea came from my very lovely moot @/jackiesistired over on twitter <33

Spencer had read five books about kissing.

Not just any books, no. They were scientific, psychology-based books that broke down the act of kissing into its most basic neurological, physiological, and psychological components. He’d also skipped numerous peer-reviewed journal articles, and, at some point, had managed to venture into less scientific territory- modern dating guides that made his skin crawl but ultimately did provide insight into what people expected in relationships.

And then, there was the… other research.

The kind that led to him sitting in front of his laptop at 3 a.m., his ears burning as he read about intimacy in ways he hadn’t yet experienced. He took notes. Intricate organized, handwritten notes in which he annotated his key findings, storing them away like highly classified information.

But all of it- all of the extensive research- meant absolutely nothing the moment your lips crashed against his.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

You and Spencer had been dating for a few months now, and while things had been progressing steadily, he hadn’t made any major moves beyond gentle, lingering kisses and hesitant, shaky touches. 

He was shy about it- not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he was terrified of messing up. He’d told you early on about his utter lack of experience, and you had reassured him earnestly that there was no pressure.

But he wanted more. He wanted to touch you the way you touched him. He wanted to kiss you until you were both breathless, and he wanted to see if reality could really live up to things he had spent so long reading about. He wanted to know if he was capable of making you feel good.

Most of all, he desperately wanted to stop overthinking.

Which is how he found himself here.

Spencer hadn’t realised just how sensitive he was until he was beneath your hands, beneath your lips, and was trying (and failing) to stay coherent.

You had started slow and gentle, kissing him with a sweet, lingering tenderness, but the moment he responded- the moment he made the quiet, needy sound in the back of his throat- you deepened it. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly, and the delicious whine that escaped him was so involuntary, so desperate, that you felt him tense in embarrassment.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, “Don’t hold back.”

His breath hitched. His head spun as his grip on your waist tightened, unsure whether to pull you closer until there was no air between you or to push you away before he completely unraveled under your touch.

“I- I don’t-” He swallowed harshly as your lips gently brushed across his jaw. “I didn’t know I was this-”

“Sensitive?” you supplied graciously, dragging your lips down his neck.

Spencer shuddered. “Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice wrecked already.

You smiled against his soft skin. “I like it.”

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat. “I- I think I do too.”

You laughed softly as you trailed lower, and Spencer actually whimpered.

You’d never heard a sound quite like that from him before- so high and desperate- a noise that he clearly hadn’t intended to make. His whole body twitched beneath your teasing touch, and he was gripping the couch cushions like they were his sole tether to reality. 

“Oh, God-” His voice cracked as your teeth grazed over his pulse point, his hips shifting instinctively beneath you.

He inhaled sharply as you went back up and pressed a kiss just beneath his jaw. Suddenly, his brain kicked into overdrive. "Did you know that the skin along the neck has an increased concentration of sensory receptors? It’s why-" His words cut off with a sharp inhale when your lips gently caressed the skin where his neck met his shoulder.

"Why what?" you teased, brushing your lips lightly over his neck.

"Why- it’s- um- " His breath hitched. "It’s a- an erogenous zone- highly sensitive- oh-" 

"You were saying?" you murmured, dragging your lips up the column of his throat.    

"I-" He tried again, but when you nipped lightly at his jaw, his thoughts crumbled.    

You pulled back to take in the sight of him. He was flushed, panting, his pupils blown wide with something akin to pleading.

“Spencer,” you murmured, running your fingers through his tousled curls, reveling in how he leaned into your touch like he was starving for it.

He looked up at you in a daze, his lips parted like he was trying to form words, but he failed to find them.

“I-” He swallowed hard. “I did research on this.”

You tilted your head slightly and bit your lip, amused. “Uh-huh?”

“Very extensive research,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “A lot of it.”

“And what did your research tell you?” You hummed softly as you trailed your fingers lightly down his chest.

He inhaled sharply as he tried not to react to your touch. “That, uh- physical contact increases oxytocin, which promotes bonding, and- oh-” His voice broke when you pressed a kiss just below his ear, his whole body trembling beneath yours.

You grinned. “Go on, Spencer.”

“I- I-” His fingers clenched at your hips as you shifted, his breath stuttering. “Oh, my God-”

You kissed him again, slow and deep, and he let out the softest moan against your lips, feeling utterly helpless.

His hands trembled where they held you, like he was overwhelmed and he didn’t know where to move them. Like he was afraid that if he moved too much, or breathed too much, he might just lose control completely.

“You are adorable,” you whispered against his lips, dragging your nails lightly down his back.

He exhaled shakily. "I- um- "

Your smile softened, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s practice more.”

Spencer’s hands tightened on your waist, and for once, he didn’t overthink.

He just felt.

And it was so much better than anything he had ever read.

⊱ ───────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ───────── ⊰

Later, when you were curled up against him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

You lifted your head. “What?”

He shook his head, cheeks still tinged pink. “I spent weeks preparing. Studying. Making sure I knew everything I could possibly know. And yet…” He looked down at you, still dazed. “Nothing I read could have prepared me for you.”

You smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

“That’s because,” you murmured, “some things you just have to experience.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, pulling you closer.

“Then I think I still have a lot to learn.”

You grinned, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Good thing I loved teaching you.”

And when you kissed him again, he decided that practical application was his new favorite subject.

[becomingthatgirl111]

Definitive Guide to Stop Checking Your Phone Compulsively

1. Set Specific Check-in Times – Limit phone checks to designated times, like after a relaxing activity or during breaks.

2. Keep Your Mind Busy – Engage in activities like reading, exercising, listening to music, or creative hobbies.

3. Practice Mindfulness & Breathing – When tempted, take deep breaths and remind yourself of your well-being goals.

4. Remember Your Purpose – Stay focused on your inner peace and personal growth.

5. Redefine Your Focus – Visualize how you want your day to end—calm and fulfilling.

6. Find Alternative Activities – Replace phone-checking with reading, journaling, or relaxing exercises.

7. Create “Phone-Free Zones” – Avoid your phone during meals, walks, or before bedtime to be more present.

8. Use Reminders & Affirmations – Place visible notes or phone reminders like “I choose peace over uncertainty.”

9. Take a Mental Pause – If overthinking, focus on your breath or something positive to regain clarity.

[writeriguess]

Pookie bear I have a request!

Basically, pre-relationship Reader is fascinated with Kirishima’s teeth and doesn’t find them scary at all. So maybe late night one day they hang out, talk, and she ends up telling him “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be bitten by a shark” and he ends up giving her bites all over her neck and shoulders and making out with her, even though at first he’s really wary

Thank you!!!!

Shark Teeth and Soft Skin

You don’t even realize how late it’s gotten until you glance at your phone. The soft glow of the screen reads 1:42 AM, but you’re nowhere near tired. Not when Kirishima’s sitting across from you, stretched out on your bedroom floor, grinning lazily as he tosses a small rubber ball into the air and catches it again.

The two of you have been talking for hours, bouncing from topic to topic like you always do. Somehow, the conversation has drifted—again—to his teeth.

It’s not the first time.

You don’t know what it is about them that fascinates you so much. Maybe it’s the way they gleam under the light, serrated edges so different from everyone else’s. Maybe it’s the way his smile is so bright, so wide, and yet there’s a dangerous edge to it—literally. Maybe it’s the way he’s so careful with them, always hyper-aware, always mindful.

You’ve never found them scary.

“I still can’t believe you’re not freaked out by them,” Kirishima says, tilting his head, red hair messy from running his fingers through it. His sharp eyes study you, amused but also a little skeptical.

You shake your head, grinning. “Why would I be? They’re cool.”

“They’re intimidating.”

“They’re badass.”

He laughs, cheeks tinged pink. “You’re the weirdest person I know.”

“Thank you,” you say, mock-sincerely. Then, a thought slips past your lips before you can overthink it: “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be bitten by a shark.”

Kirishima freezes. The ball in his hand slips, bouncing off his knee and rolling away.

His eyes widen.

You’re about to backpedal, to laugh it off, when he shifts, sitting up straighter. “…Wait. Are you saying you wanna know what it feels like?”

Your stomach flips. You should probably be embarrassed, but instead, excitement bubbles in your chest. “Maybe,” you say, and then, because it’s the truth: “Yeah.”

Kirishima swallows. His Adam’s apple bobs.

“That’s—” He stops, exhaling a sharp breath through his nose. “You’re messing with me.”

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

His gaze flickers to your neck, to the slope of your shoulder peeking out from your loose sleep shirt. You can practically see the internal war happening in his head.

“I dunno,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I’m strong, y’know? What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you,” you say softly.

That does something to him.

His jaw clenches. His fingers twitch against his knee.

“…Okay,” he murmurs. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Your breath catches.

Slowly, he reaches for you. His hands are big, warm, steady as they slide over your shoulders, guiding you closer. His touch alone sends a shiver down your spine.

You tilt your head, offering your neck.

For a second, he just hovers there, lips barely grazing your skin. The heat of his breath fans over your pulse point.

Then, carefully, he sinks his teeth in.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips. It’s not painful—just pressure, a strange mix of dull and acute, like the first sting of a deep massage.

He pulls away immediately. “Shit—”

“No, it’s good,” you interrupt, gripping his wrist. Your pulse flutters under his fingers. “Do it again.”

His pupils blow wide.

Something shifts in the air between you. The hesitation melts into something else, something deeper, heavier.

His hands slide down, fingers digging into your waist as he leans in again, his lips brushing your skin—softer this time, lingering. And then—

Another bite.

A little harder.

A whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it.

Kirishima makes a sound low in his throat, something dangerously close to a growl. His teeth press into the curve of your shoulder, then along the column of your neck, leaving a trail of faint, throbbing marks in their wake.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt, nails digging into the fabric. You feel drunk on the sensation, warmth pooling low in your stomach with every deliberate nip, every fleeting flick of his tongue to soothe the sting.

“You’re so weird,” he murmurs, but there’s no bite to it. Just fondness, thick and sweet. His lips ghost over your jaw, dangerously close.

“You like it,” you whisper back, breathless.

He exhales a laugh against your skin, then closes the distance.

His lips crash into yours, all heat and urgency, his hands gripping your waist like he never wants to let go. His teeth catch on your bottom lip, playful now, testing the waters before deepening the kiss.

It’s messy and desperate and perfect.

And as he pulls you into his lap, his fingers tracing over the marks he’s left on your skin, you think—

You wouldn’t mind being bitten by a shark again.

[ghostlycamil4]

could you write a story about bakugou teaching y/n how to kiss?

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑠

Thank you so much, hope you like it as much as I did! Don’t forget to drop any other requests you got in mind!

Every time Bakugo tried to make a kiss last longer than a brief brush, you pulled away. Not abruptly, but with subtle gestures: a slight turn of the head, a nervous laugh that broke the moment, an apologetic excuse about the time, the movie, the phone.

And of course, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew everyone had their own pace. Their fears. Their walls. And if you needed time, he was gonna respect that. Period.

Still, in his crimson gaze, always alert, the question floated: Why?

That night you were cuddled on the couch. A movie played in the background, the lights were low, a bowl of popcorn between you and a spoon buried in a tub of ice cream you were sharing. The atmosphere was chill, comfortable… until he noticed some ice cream at the corner of your lips.

"You got a little something..." he murmured, leaning in to wipe it with his thumb. But his eyes, intense as always, didn’t leave yours. And with a smooth movement, with that same confidence he always carried, he gently held your chin and pressed his lips to yours.

He was inviting you to follow… but there was no response.

You pulled back. It wasn’t dramatic, just a tiny space, barely a few centimeters. But for him, it was enough.

"Y/n..." he whispered. His voice was deep, rough, but controlled, like every word cost him his calm. "Something wrong?"

You hesitated. Swallowed hard, looked down. You couldn’t hold his gaze. And in the end, with a low voice, almost embarrassed, you confessed:

"It’s just… I don’t know how to kiss."

For a second, Bakugo went silent. He blinked, processing your words. And then, to his own surprise, let out a soft laugh—more like an incredulous exhale.

"That’s the problem?" he scoffed at himself, shaking his head for overthinking it so much.

"I feel like I’m gonna mess it up…" you said, biting your lower lip, insecure.

"There’s nothing to mess up, Y/n…" he replied sincerely. His voice sounded different now: lower, warmer, like he was talking to you from a place he didn’t show to just anyone.

You made a face, still not quite convinced.

"I’m gonna learn," you declared, more like a promise to yourself than to him.

"Oh yeah? And how you gonna learn?" he asked, crossing his arms, raising a brow with barely hidden amusement.

You went silent. You didn’t wanna admit what you’d already thought about. Didn’t wanna sound pathetic.

"Reading? Watching videos? Or worse… practicing with your reflection in the mirror?" he went on, and even though his tone had a teasing edge, it wasn’t mean.

"You’re making fun of me?"

"No," he denied, shrugging. "I’m just saying it’s kinda dumb… when you got me right here."

You looked at him, a little surprised, a little hopeful.

"You gonna teach me?"

He barely nodded, that half-smirk on his face that made you feel like you were the only person in his world.

"Who else, Y/n?"

"Now?"

"Now… if you want."

You didn’t say anything. You just closed your eyes and let yourself be guided. Because if you were going to learn, you wanted it to be with him.

The calluses of his palms grazed your cheeks, rough against your skin, but the touch was incredibly gentle. His thumbs stopped just beneath your cheekbones, drawing tiny circles, as if he was memorizing every detail of you.

The first touch of his lips was so light you barely noticed it. There was no pressure, no rush. Just the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

He leaned in again, this time with a bit more pressure. His lips moved slowly, teaching you the rhythm:

To the right (a soft glide).

A pause (his lips stayed still, letting you feel the heat).

To the left (firmer this time).

By the time he pulled away, his fingers were still on your face, his eyes watching you intently.

“See? There’s nothing to mess up,” he said, and his voice, for the first time, sounded almost… sweet.

His lips brushed yours again, slowly, recreating that warm, soft connection where time seemed to fade away. He paused there for a moment, breathing with you.

“I’m gonna use my tongue this time,” he whispered, his lips barely parted from yours. “Just a little. And when I do… don’t freak out. You don’t have to do anything right away, okay?”

Bakugo kissed you again, just as slowly, but this time his tongue barely peeked out, grazing your lower lip. It was a light caress, an invitation, not an invasion. He waited for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away, he did it again, firmer this time, running his tongue softly along the seam of your lips, asking for permission with patience.

“Open them a little,” he whispered, his voice soft between kisses. “Not much… just a bit.”

You did.

His tongue sought yours carefully, touching it, brushing it gently, guiding you.

“Don’t push,” he murmured between sighs. “Just follow me… respond.”

When you dared to touch his tongue with more intent, when your movements stopped being clumsy and became curious, he smiled against your lips, quietly, as if he didn’t want to interrupt your progress.

“Feel it?” he asked, his breath mixing with yours, his voice low.

The sounds —your muffled moans, his approving grunts— became impossible to ignore.

Your hands, which had stayed still at your sides until then, rose of their own accord. Your trembling fingers found his chest first, feeling the wild thrum of his heartbeat under the shirt, before tangling in the collar of his hoodie.

By the time you pulled away, both of you were panting. Not exactly from lack of air, but from everything that kiss had awakened. Your lips still pulsed with every rapid beat of your heart, and his looked slightly more red, wet, and slightly parted.

A strand of saliva still connected you, glistening obscenely under the warm light of the sunset streaming through the window.

His thumb slid slowly over your lower lip, wiping away the trace with an unexpected tenderness.

“Not bad for a first lesson,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher.

You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to catch your breath, but didn’t look away. Not after everything that had passed between you in that kiss.

“And… what grade do you give me?” you asked, barely a whisper, unable to hide the shyness still trembling in your voice.

Bakugo smirked, his gaze intense and slightly mocking as he leaned in a little toward you, letting his breath caress your skin.

“A grade high enough to want more, Y/n,” he replied, his tone low and husky. “But don’t get excited, there’s still plenty more to learn.”

The gleam in his eyes was clear: he wasn’t stopping there.

• Masterlist

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

[baigepueckers]

Paige Bueckers X Reader

Game Time

You’re leaning against the hallway wall just outside the Dallas Wings locker room, iced coffee in hand, trying to look casual…but your heart’s racing like you’re the one about to step onto the court. You’ve been with Paige through so many milestones…college wins, long rehab nights, draft night tears…but this? This is different. This is the league. All she’s wanted.

A few staffers and media folks rush by, but you barely notice. The second the locker room door swings open, time just slows.

There she is.

Paige walks out like a dream in motion, dressed in her tunnel fit…a light pink button up with baggy jean shorts and pink nike cortez’s. The shorts cling to her hips but hang down incredibly low. Her blonde hair is in a slicked back pony, with the kind of precision that makes your knees buckle. She looks like she just stepped off the cover of Vogue…confident, lethal, stupidly beautiful.

You can’t stop staring.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath, half to yourself. “You’re gonna kill someone looking like that.”

She slows when she sees you, but the closer she gets, the more you notice it…the way her fingers keep adjusting the hem of her shirt… how she’s biting her inner cheek, her jaw a little tighter than usual.

“You okay, baby?” you ask, stepping off the wall and into her space, gently brushing your hand along her arm.

Paige exhales hard through her nose and leans closer, lowering her voice so no one else hears. “I’m trying to be. I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

Your heart tugs.

“Hey.” You reach up and cup her cheek, gently guiding her to look at you. “Look at me. You’ve worked your whole life for this. You’re here because you earned it. Not because of hype. Not because of name recognition. You’re one of the best to ever touch a basketball…and now you get to show everyone what that looks like in a Wings jersey.”

She leans into your palm, eyes fluttering shut for a second like she’s trying to draw strength from your touch.

“You think I’m ready?” she murmurs, almost like she’s not asking you so much as asking the universe.

“I know you’re ready,” you say, stepping even closer, voice steadier now. “You’re the smartest player out there. You’ve been watching film for weeks, you’ve been at every practice grinding harder than anyone. You’re smooth, lethal, unselfish…Paige fucking Bueckers. They should be scared of you.”

She exhales again, this time a little softer.

Then her eyes flick up and down your face.

“You’re really good at this pep talk thing.”

You smirk. “What can I say? I know how to talk my girl back into killer mode.”

But then you let your gaze drop…just for a second…back down to the way the button up drape over her stomach, the tiny peek of her Nike Pro waist band..and the faint glisten of her skin making your brain short circuit.

“You also didn’t have to go this hard with the tunnel fit,” you mutter, voice darker now. “Seriously, what do you expect me to do when you come out looking like that?”

Paige quirks an eyebrow, your favorite little smirk tugging at her lips. “You like it?”

“I want to ruin it,” you say bluntly, grabbing the shirt with both hands and pulling her close until there’s barely space between your mouths. “I want to drag you back into that locker room and….”

Her breath catches. “Y/N.”

Your voice softens…more teasing now, whispering against her mouth. “C’mon, baby. You need a distraction, right?”

“Here? Now?” Her voice is shaky…but not resisting. “You’re insane.”

You grin. “Only for you.”

She doesn’t push you away. If anything, her fingers curl around your hips like she’s begging you to keep going.

You don’t give her the chance to overthink. You tug her hand, weaving your way down the hallway and pulling her into a small, unmarked side room…half storage, half utility. You lock the door behind you. It smells like fresh jerseys and pine disinfectant, but it’s quiet, hidden. Yours.

The second the door clicks shut, her restraint snaps.

She grabs you by the waist, spinning and backing you into the wall, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and heat and need. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath, dragging her palms along your skin like she needs to feel everything all at once. You tug her shirt off her shoulders just enough to get better access to her neck, pressing kisses there until she’s gasping softly, head falling back.

“Fuck” she breathes. “I needed this. I needed you.”

You hook a leg around her thigh, pressing your hips together, your fingers now undoing the first button of her pants. “I got you. Just let go, baby.”

It’s fast. Frantic. A flurry of hands and breaths and whispered groans. It’s the kind of moment born of fire and nerves and knowing exactly what buttons to push. You’re careful not to mess up her hair, but her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her breath coming in uneven bursts when you finally pull back.

She leans her forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed, grinning like she’s drunk on you.

“I feel…better.”

You help straighten her clothes, fingers ghosting down the front of her top as you smooth it back into place. “You look dangerous.”

She kisses you again…slower this time, savoring it…then grabs your hand.

“Come watch me light them up.”

You laugh. “Oh, trust me. I’ll be courtside, drooling.”

Paige opens the door and steps into the hallway like a different woman…loose, confident, focused. The nerves are gone. Now she walks like the floor belongs to her, like she’s not just ready to debut…she’s ready to dominate.

And as you watch her disappear down the tunnel, you already know…this is about to be her league.

[ssahotchnerr]

hiii!!! i have a little christmas hotch idea for you🥹 the bau doing the secret santa thing and you get hotch! you put alot of thought into his gift and he is so touched when he opens it🥹 the bau had done it in the past but whenever someone got hotch they didn't really know what to get him so he would always end up with a new tie or a mug that says something like worlds best boss but then he sees what you got him and his heart melts🥺 there's no established relationship but you're both pining for eachother so hard.maybe hotch also gets you and was nervous he put TOO much thought into your gift but when he sees you did the same thing he feels better about it

love your writing btw it's always so comforting<3

🥹🥹🥹🥹 thank you my sweet!!!!

when the team was choosing names, you were nearly besides yourself with nerves because you wanted to pick aaron so. badly. <333 you thought perhaps after having a crush on him forever and not knowing how to act on it, or if you should even act on it, this would somehow be an opening to introducing something more. you felt crazy for thinking this way, but crazier things have happened, so who knows???

you were hopeful, but you also didn't think you would pick him 😭 your odds weren't the greatest, choosing him wasn't guaranteed, so you were stressing big time. you found yourself literally crossing your fingers behind your back 😭

hehe BUT your heart literally did jumping jacks when you unfolded your paper and saw his name 🥹!!!!!!! you tried your hardest to not visibly react, to be as nonchalant as the others after they picked - you had to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling 🥰 but, your cheeks couldn't help but blush as well 🤭

emily, who had been suspicious about your feelings for aaron, (she's noticed your lingering stares, being flustered whenever you interacted with him, and so on) teasingly said "oh, happy with your choice?" 🤭🤭🤭😏😏😏😏

you merely shrugged in response🤭, all while avoiding eye contact with aaron and then hurrying away LOL 😭🥹 but meanwhile, aaron was stealing glances at you 👀💞 hoping he'd pick you, or you had picked him. you weren't the only one wishfully thinking 🫢

and so, the perfect gift hunting began!!! you wanted to get him something that was special, but not overly special, so you were overthinking it tons. just... what do you get your very highly attractive boss, who you've had a crush on forever.

so you decide on something that makes him feel seen 🥹 as team leader and just being Hotch, he's overlooked in a way because he's in that more authoritative role - he may be team leader, but he's still part of the 'team' if that makes sense. you wanted to give him the reminder 🥺

hehe your affection for aaron really came in handy - you've paid way more attention to him, to what he says, and more as a result. so you use that as an advantage and your gift guide 🥰 a few ideas - the coffee pot in his office stops working? you get him a new one. on the jet, he mentions how disorganized his go-bag can be, so you get him packing cubes to help sort/keep things together. aaron says there's a band he really likes and a while back he said he got a record player, you get him the vinyl <333 and to complete your gift, you get aaron his favorite candy 🥹 (which he never verbally said he liked!!! you've seen him eating it numerous times before🥹)

they're small things, but they're meaningful, and aaron is beyond shocked when he opens your gift 🥹🥹🥹 he's touched, and is taken aback (in a good way of course💞🥰) by the fact you listen. you really listen.

AHHH the smiles you give each other afterwards 🥰🥰🥰🥰 spencer is now giving his gift to jj, and your and aaron's eyes find each other 🥹 hehe hearts are practically shooting out of his eyes as his lips turn upwards soooo sweetly and you could melt right there 🥹 (and emily is just 👀 at the two of you). he says "thank you" again, one only you can hear 🥹

and if aaron were to have you for secret santa!!!! it's vice versa, he listens to you - he knows what you like, and you had no idea he listened to what you thought were silly little rambles 🥰🥰💞 he's paid attention, which blows you away because maybe, just maybe?, he feels something too <333

💞 hehe who knows, maybe you'll get a new year's kiss at penelope's end of year party 🫢 it's the start of something new <333

[inotakumagf]

a skater boy’s dream girl

✶ ino takuma x reader

word count ✺ 2K

summary ✺ ino takuma is a hopeless romantic, but that never hurt anyone

warning ✺ none! very cute, very fluffy jujutsu college au. title insinuates fem reader, but the actual fic is gn!

Ino Takuma is tired. He spent his entire evening in Jujutsu University's massive library, working on a research paper that his professor had assigned in one of his stupid required courses. He feels useless when it comes to research papers, because it’s impossible for him to put all his jumbling, complicated thoughts into a neat essay. And Takuma knows he’s smart. He’d just rather show it through his actions instead of his words, because he’s always had a hard time with those. 

His degree advisor, Professor Nanami, has been helping him by editing his papers and guiding him through the research process. But the two have realized that Takuma’s ADHD is tricky to accommodate. Takuma is just lucky that his advisor cares so much to help him anytime he needs. Except for tonight.

Professor Nanami apologized to him earlier in the day about it, pushing his glasses up and citing “other preoccupations for the night”. If someone asked Takuma to bet money on it, he’d say his mentor has a date. Not that he’d ask, but he’s so stoked for his professor that he’d assured him he’d be fine making progress on the paper all on his own. And even as he laments his lackluster writing session, he’s glad Nanami is enjoying his personal life away from the university. 

It’s on his way out of the library that he bumps into you for the first time. He practically runs into the elevator, pressing hard on the button for the first floor. He hears you call out for him to hold the door. Despite the fact that Takuma is half-dead on his feet, he’s not the kind of person to stare at someone as the elevator doors close. So he sticks his arm out and holds it until you hop in. You have a stack of binders and books in one arm and a laptop bag slung over the other shoulder. 

You gasp out, “Thanks. These elevators take forever to come back up.”

Takuma hums in agreement and scoots to the edge of the elevator to give you space. His stomach is doing a million kickflips at the sight of you. He’s never seen you on campus before, there’s no way he has. Because he would definitely remember someone as attractive as you. He ignores his stuttering heart and stares down at his feet. He really needs to get back to his dorm without making a fool of himself. 

The elevator stops again, and a girl walks in. She seems to recognize you, because the two of you start talking about a shared class. Takuma has no idea what kind of class this is, but he’s admittedly kind of obsessed with you already so he pulls his phone out to Google it. He pouts at the fact that this course is just about the opposite of his own major. So there’s no chance he can see you more often, not unless he stalks you.

The elevator starts going up, and Takuma has to hold in a groan. He really, really just wants to get in his own bed tonight. It takes them up three floors for the girl’s stop. Once she’s out of the elevator, Takuma leans forwards to spam the first floor button a couple of times. It’s silent the rest of the way as the ancient elevator takes its time going down. 

“Think I’ve aged a couple years in here. Would’ve been faster to ride a tortoise down the stairs,” Takuma says, only slightly regretting the nonsense he spouts. 

But you laugh softly, and he thinks he’d do anything to hear it again and again. The elevator stops at the second floor, and you shift your stack of material. You give him a small smile and slight incline of your head as you step out of the elevator. 

There’s a moment where he pauses, like he’s trying not to overthink what he’s gonna do next. As the door starts to close, he sticks out his arm and steps out so that he can talk to you and maybe ask you out if he pulls together the confidence. He looks around the hallway of this floor, peeking into each of the windowed rooms and looking down different halls in hopes of spotting you. But it’s like you’ve disappeared into thin air, because he can’t find you at all. He deflates and decides to call it a loss before he starts to feel like a creep, taking the elevator back to the first floor so he can finally head back to his dorm where he’s supposed to be.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he returns to the library around the same time every day for the next two weeks, hoping that he’ll see you again. But he has no luck, and each night brings the same feeling of disappointment. He wants to kick himself for not just talking to you when he had the chance laid out so perfectly for him. He considers finding the building that your class is held in, but he has no idea what day or time you would be there. It makes him feel like too much of a pathetic loser, so he’s given up hope completely. 

Even Nanami had asked him about his change in mood over the last few weeks, and Takuma doesn’t want to admit to his advisor that he’s this much of a hopeless romantic. He blames his behavior on all of the Julia Roberts rom-coms he’s been binge watching lately. 

He must not be watching enough rom-coms, though. Because Takuma doesn’t think that he would be running you over with his skateboard if this was a rom-com.

But it happens as he’s skating in the grassy square on the main campus, on one of the cobbled pathways that connect the many class buildings that surround the square. He has his headphones on, so he doesn’t notice when you run perpendicular across his path all of a sudden. You don’t notice him either, because clearly you’re rushing somewhere. 

The two of you tumble onto the patch of grass beside the path at the impact. It takes a few moments for the both of you to sit up and separate your tangled mess of limbs. Immediately, you start apologizing at the same time. Takuma’s hand twitches as he thinks of helping you up, but you cross your legs and don’t look like you want to get up right away. So he folds his legs and just enjoys your presence.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I really should be better at looking where I’m going. Nanami tells me all the time I’ll knock someone over with how I skate, and it looks like he was right as always.”

You shake your head. “No, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have been running like that.”

Takuma’s heart stutters as he tries to work up the courage to ask you out. He should say something, because he might never get the chance again. But his mouth is embarrassingly dry right now.

It’s okay, because you fill the silence when he can’t. “You have Professor Nanami? Ugh, you’re lucky.”

Takuma perks up. Now this is a topic he’s good at. “Yeah, He’s the greatest! He’s been my mentor for a year now, and I’d be toast without him. There’s not a single professor that can come close to his level.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” you tease. 

The tips of Takuma’s ears turn red at your words, and you laugh at the effect your words have on him. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “everyone has a crush on Professor Nanami. It would be weird if you didn’t.”

“Even you?” He regrets his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, and he pulls his beanie over his head in hopes that the ground will mercifully swallow him up. 

But you just laugh and say, “Yeah, he is pretty attractive. But he’s not really my type.” 

Takuma nods absentmindedly, feeling a bit dejected. If Professor Nanami—who is the most attractive man ever in Takuma’s opinion—is not your type, then any chance he had with you is six feet under.

 “Oh,” he says, still stuck in his thoughts. 

When you don’t say anything, he looks up at you and his heart spikes when he finds you staring at him intently. You brush some stray strands of hair away from your face and tug your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on, almost…nervously? Takuma isn’t an idiot, and the realization of your words and your behavior hit him like a truck. 

“Oh! I–hah.” He feels like a blubbered, blushing mess, but you pout a little (so cute, he can’t help but think) and stand up shakily. 

You brush off dirt from your knees and say, “Well, anyways, sorry about that.”

Takuma’s brain starts working a second after, and he stares at you in horror when he realizes you think he’s rejected you. He reject you? It’s absurd, and yet he’s staring at your retreating form. 

He grabs his board off the ground and rushes after you. “Wait!” 

You turn to look at him. He pants and waves his hands around as he tries to explain. “I, uh, can I take you out for coffee? I sort of owe you after nearly mowing you down back there,” he tries to joke. 

But that adorable frown still graces your lips. “You don’t owe me anything, it’s fine. I should have looked where I was going.” 

Takuma would be banging his head against a wall if there was one nearby. He's never been smart with his words, and it’s biting him in the ass. “No, no, no. I–sorry, I’m really bad at this. Shit.” He rubs his hands over his face and lightly slaps his cheeks to reset himself. 

“I think you’re really pretty and I’ve been thinking about you, like, all week. I’ve even been going back to the library to see you and I thought I never would, but here you are! And I’m ruining it by being stupid. But–but I really do like you, and I’m not doing this ‘cause I have to, I just really, really want to see you again. I–oh, sorry.” 

He finally catches himself mid-ramble as you stare at him with an unreadable expression. “I ruined any chances I had with you, didn’t I?” He pouts and slumps a little, looking down at his scuffed Vans. 

You tilt your head sideways so that your face returns to his line of sight. “No, I think it’s adorable.” 

Takuma’s head peeks up hopefully. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I’d love to get coffee with you.”

Takuma grins and pumps his fist. “Sweet! I mean, yeah that’s–that’s cool. I’ll see you then?”

You laugh at the very terrible job he does of hiding his excitement. “Are you gonna ask for my number? So that we can make these plans of yours?”

Takuma tucks his head in embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. Here, I can put my number in your phone.”

You smile softly at Takuma when he does. “Text me?”

Takuma nods, paying attention only in part. He’s way too distracted by your smile and the way you look at him and the way you play with your phone. He’s distracted by just about everything about you. He rubs the back of his head and turns his head away slightly to alleviate his embarrassment.

You coo at the way he shows his embarrassment. “I have to get to class now, but I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Takuma blinks slowly at your words. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

He kind of just stands there even after you wave and continue on your way. He only blinks to attention when he gets a text notification on his phone. He thinks he blacks out when he sees your message.

i think you’re really pretty too :)

[thesecondhandwoman]

HOVERBOARD PRACTICE

Ekko x f!reader

Synopsis: Another day, another morning with Ekko. Today you were practicing riding a hoverboard, a ride that both Ekko and the other fireflies use. However, practice comes with failure, especially when it came to you, and Ekko was there for you every step of the way.

The faint hum of Zaun’s flickering neon lights was drowned out by the steady whir of hoverboards cutting through the air. Ekko stood ahead of you, one foot firmly planted on his own board, the other dangling off lazily, his balance impeccable as always. His lopsided grin reflected both confidence and amusement.

“You’re overthinking it,” he called out, spinning in a lazy circle to face you. “It’s all about flow, y’know? Let the board do the work.”

You groaned, planting your foot back on the ground for stability as the board beneath you wobbled. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Gravity-Doesn’t-Apply-To-Me.”

He laughed—a sound that was warm, teasing, and annoyingly attractive. “Alright, alright, keep your balance steady, then push off. Use your core.” Ekko gestured toward you with a sweeping motion. “And for the love of everything, stop looking down.”

You rolled your eyes, but obeyed. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you swallowed your nerves and tried again. With a deep breath, you nudged the board forward. This time, you moved a few feet before wobbling uncontrollably.

“Whoa, whoa—” Ekko’s voice barely reached you before you veered sideways.

The hoverboard jerked, and you let out a yelp as you careened toward a nearby tree. You braced for impact when—just before disaster struck—a strong hand grabbed your arm, yanking you to a stop.

Ekko’s face was inches from yours, his chest heaving from the effort. His chuckles rumbled against your arm where his grip lingered. “You okay there, rookie?”

You glared, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed your composure. “Barely.”

He smirked, letting go of your arm but not stepping back. “Guess I gotta keep you outta trouble, huh?” He climbed back onto his board and rolled around you in slow, playful circles.

“I think I’ve had enough for today,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

“Nope,” he said, stopping right in front of you. His grin widened as he flicked a strand of your hair out of your face. “Not until you’ve learned to not almost die. Besides, I’m having too much fun watching you flail.”

You smacked his arm lightly, earning another laugh.

“Alright, alright. We’ll take it slow.” Ekko nudged your board gently with his foot, guiding you back onto it. Then he jumped on his own and slid in beside you, hands hovering close in case you stumbled again. “Just keep your eyes forward. Trust your instincts. And hey,” he added, his voice softer now, “if you fall again, I’ll catch you.”

With a huff, you pushed off the ground, this time with Ekko right at your side. His presence, steady and sure, made the task seem a little less impossible. As the board hummed beneath you and the wind began to whip past your face, you couldn’t help but laugh at the thrill of it all.

Ekko’s own laugh joined yours. “There you go! I told you you’d get it.”

You smiled, the fear giving way to excitement. “Still not sure I trust you,” you teased.

He shot you a playful look. “Good. Keeps things interesting.”

After a bit, you were finally starting to get the hang of it, though the occasional wobble made Ekko reach out instinctively to steady you. His hands brushed against yours once or twice, and you felt your stomach flutter each time, though you played it off with a smirk or a sarcastic comment. He didn’t seem to mind—if anything, he thrived off your banter.

“Alright, let’s see if you can handle a turn,” he said, his board gliding effortlessly ahead of you. He slowed just enough to match your speed, skating backwards like it was nothing.

“A turn? I just learned how to go straight!” you protested, your voice rising in mock indignation.

Ekko only shrugged, his grin infuriatingly smug. “Guess there’s only one way to find out if you’ve got what it takes.” He darted to the side, smoothly curving around a piece of scrap metal embedded in the ground.

You gulped, eyeing the path he’d taken. “Easy for you to say when you’ve been doing this for years,” you muttered.

“Hey,” he called over his shoulder, “the Firelights don’t wait for anyone. If you’re gonna roll with us, you gotta be able to keep up. No pressure or anything.” His tone was teasing, but there was an undeniable challenge in his words.

You grit your teeth.

No way were you going to let him think you couldn’t handle it.

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

You tilted the board slightly, leaning into the motion like he’d shown you. The board shifted beneath you, and for a terrifying second, it felt like you were going to fall—but then you found your balance, cutting a clumsy arc around the scrap metal. When you emerged on the other side, your heart was pounding, but you were still upright.

“Ha! Look at that!” Ekko whooped, his smile wide with pride. “Told you you had it in you!”

You slowed to a stop, panting slightly as you grinned back at him. “Not bad for a rookie, huh?”

“Not bad at all.” He skated up beside you, reaching out to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But don’t let it go to your head. You’ve still got a long way to go before you can keep up with me.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” you shot back, your competitive streak flaring to life.

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “You bet it is. First one to the water tower wins.” Without waiting for your response, he pushed off, his board shooting forward like a bolt of lightning.

“Hey, no fair!” you yelled, scrambling to get moving again.

The chase was on, and though Ekko had a head start, you threw everything you had into catching up. The wind whipped through your hair, and for the first time, you felt like you were flying. You stumbled once or twice, but you managed to stay on your board, fueled by determination—and maybe just a little bit of your desire to wipe that smug grin off Ekko’s face.

He reached the water tower first, of course, lounging on his board as he waited for you. “Took you long enough,” he teased when you finally rolled up beside him, breathless but grinning.

“You cheated,” you accused, though you couldn’t keep the laughter out of your voice.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a wink. “But you still did good, especially since that was probably the only way I would make you actually try without being clumsy. Heck, you did better than good, actually.”

His praise made your cheeks warm, but you tried to play it cool. “Guess I had a pretty decent teacher.”

“Decent?” Ekko repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’m the best in Zaun. You’re lucky to have me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Whatever you say, hotshot.”

As you both rested against the base of the water tower, the city stretching out beneath you, Ekko nudged your arm gently. “For real, though. You did great today. You’re a natural.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you turned to meet his gaze. His golden eyes sparkled with pride and something else—something softer that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks, Ekko,” you said quietly, feeling your usual bravado fade under his steady gaze.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Anytime.”

[lunaroracleofvenus]

What manifestation technique is best designed for you? PAC

Left to Right

Pile one

This is my pile of witches and warlocks. The best way you manifest is through spells, and rituals. You have magic in your blooddddd hunnyy.  You might be highly mythical, intuitive, and just divine. Use this divine nature in a creative way, and all you desire shall manifest… this could be through glamour magic, love spells, abundance spells..

Pile two

These are my divine feminines. This pile best manifests by setting intentions and going with the flow. Working with the feminine via moon rituals, water element or just that shakti power will draw all you desire to you… there is a huge theme of co-creation and just feminine energy. This pile might need to release what doesn’t work emotionally and truly tap into their feminine wisdom when it comes to manifesting… what works for you, might not work for everyone else and that is okay… you might be alone in this power…

Pile three

This pile best manifest by mastering the earth element. This pile might be able to use scripting to manifest or just using the natural element to manifest. Could use some earthy/elemental witchcraft….

 But what i am hearing most is having self compassion and really devoting yourself to what you are trying to manifest = fruition of the desire. This might look like manifesting one thing at a time, and while you are manifesting it, you sleep, breath, and dream it. You continuously tap into the desire, and deeply ground yourself into the feeling consistently. Though remember balance, and leave a bit of space for life and your mental health. The whole saying, let it go and detachment for manifesting, DOES NOT apply to you. Your attachment to it really creates it…. This might be my obsessive manifestors… do you guys have any strong pluto in your charts btw???

Pile four

So there’s a lot of overdoing in this pile, and anxiety. There might be a lot of freezing and overthinking when it comes to choosing and sticking to what you are attempting to create. Rest assured it’s okay to feel how you feel at this moment. Rest assured that things will and can get better. Spirit is saying just remember to be ambitious, flexible but also grounded. Listen to where your intuition is guiding you. Manifesting isn’t supposed to add MORE problems to life. Like life can be difficult enough… stop taking it so seriously tbh. Like yes you can create change, but you create change in little and big practical ways everyday. From the moment you choose to brush your teeth, to the moment you decide on studying. Didn’t get much of a method for this pile! You might need to give manifesting a break and come back to it…

Pile five 

This pile might manifest best through chaos, and destruction. You seem to create great things from dark places. Where people see destruction, you see a moment to create. You might be really good at seeing people’s potential, and helping them shift into that.. How you can effectively use this power for yourself to manifest, I think is by doing shadow work, emotionally releasing rituals, and working with darker goddesses/gods. 

For example, let’s say you wanted to manifest a home, maybe journal about blockages you might have.. Do you feel undeserving? Do you feel its unattainable? Or maybe there is a childhood wound? Once you understand your depth, choose a ritual to release it, and then maybe channel those same feelings into getting what u want or set your desired intentions after you have released what doesn’t serve you?

Also,  I don’t know how to properly describe but channeling anger, fear and etc might work really well for you… being put through trials and tribulations might also work well for you… hopefully y’all get what im trying to put down <3

This pile gives me the vibe of the type of people that go through the most horrible break up and 6 months later, they look good asf and they make 5x times what they used to make…

Pile six

this is a very Venusian pile. This pile manifests best through instruments, dance, and music. Also having a communion with god as well… speaking to god, letting god/goddess know what you want.. Keeping that relationship with spirit will really help you..

Also, gratitude practices might really help you manifest your desired things. and, general affirmations might really work for you. Everything is as it should be. Everything is working out. I feel great.. those type of affirmations!

[linopls]

kinktober day eighteen

voyeurism danceracha x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), semi public, male masturbation, squirting 2.2k words

you weren’t a dancer, you could demolish anyone in just dance, but that was the extent of it. 

your boyfriend on the other hand was possibly the best dancer to walk this earth. 

you both have spent the past week in and out of practice rooms working on hyunjin’s next SKZ-PLAYER. although he couldn’t publicly announce your relationship, some strict company rules he has to work by, he thought by performing a number with you would be a way to show you off without explicitly saying so.

the problem is: you weren’t a dancer.

“you’re doing great, baby!” hyunjin says, tossing you your water bottle. “it’s all coming together i can see it.”

you sigh and take a huge sip of your water. “i’m losing it, jinnie! i’m struggling to remember it all and it's not smooth, it's choppy.”

“you’re overthinking it.” he places one of his hands on your cheek and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “let’s run it again.”

you sigh and sit down in one of the chairs in the middle of the room and hyunjin sits the other, you backs facing each other. hyunjin leans his head back on your shoulder and you turn your head to give him a peck on his sweaty forehead.

“we’ll do it with counts, m’kay?” 

hyunjin starts counting and his body moves naturally, nothing is too harsh or jerky. its like water the way his moves flow from one to the next. you’re staring at him in the mirror in such awe that you miss your entrance and he stops counting.

“babe,” hyunjin laughs. “stop staring at me and focus, you can look at me later.”

“i’m so sorry,” you say softly. “you’re just so memorizing when you dance i could stare at you forever.”

hyunjin steps in front of you and presses his forehead to yours. he rubs his nose against yours and places a soft kiss to your lips. 

“you’re cute. you know that, right?” he smiles and you blush. “now it’s my turn to watch you dance. get up.”

“w-what no!” you sputter. “it's like trying to teach a baby deer to walk.”

“y/n,” hyunjin whines and playfully stomps his feet. he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the chair. 

hyunjin places his hands on your hips and starts the counts, guiding you through the steps of a specific section of the dance you struggle with. you try to move as fluidly as hyunjin.

“five, six, sev-” hyunjin counts and he spins you out but loses the grip on your hand and you fall back against the mirror.

“shit,” you groan, massaging the back of your head with your hand. 

“oh my god, y/n, i’m so sorry!” hyunjin runs up to you and cups your cheeks with his hands. 

“no it’s okay, i’m okay.” you smile reassuringly at your boyfriend. “got a tough skull, i promise.” 

you lean in to kiss hyunjin, his soft and gentle lips work perfectly in sync with yours. you place your hands against his chest and he slides his hands down to your waist, pressing his body against yours into the mirror. hyunjin swipes his tongue across your lips and you eagerly let him explore your mouth.

his hands wander to your ass, massaging and squeezing it gently. you slide your hands down his chest and under his shirt, your fingers hover over his abdominal muscles. hyunjin pulls away from the kiss for a second to remove his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you. you’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but everytime it makes you mouth water.

“hey, my eyes are up here, baby,” hyunjin teases, placing his fingers under your chin and lifting your head up to face him.

“we shouldn’t do anything here, jinnie. what if someone sees?”

“is that such a bad thing?” he smirks and kisses you again. 

you moan into his mouth and your eyes roll back in your head. the idea of someone possibly walking in on you and hyunjin is such an arousing thrill. hyunjin’s hands wander under your top, cusping your breasts with his large hands. you break the kiss for a second to remove your shirt as well and hyunjin begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. 

hyunjin continues his trail of kisses down your stomach, kneeling onto the floor in front of you. his fingers hook under the band of your yoga pants when a knock is heard at the door. you try to cover your front with your arms as you look up to felix and minho walking through the door. hyunjin turns his attention to the two men and sighs, laying his head against your stomach.

“forget we had practice at seven?” felix laughs.

“i did,” hyunjin says defeated.

“it’s okay, you two can continue. we won’t intrude.” minho smirks and sends a joking wink to you.

“you are intruding,” hyunjin sighs.

“hm, i guess so,” minho chuckles. “guess we’ll have a seat right here and watch then.”

the two boys sit on the couch bench across from you and your face goes red and you try to cover it with your hands before remembering that you're covering your torso. you look up to the ceiling too embarrassed to look hyunjin’s handsome friends in the eyes. 

“aww, looks like y/n would like for us to watch, right?” felix coos.

hyunjin lifts his head from your stomach and looks up at you, you aren’t looking at him but you can feel his lustful gaze burning into your skull. 

“can i?” hyunjin asks, looping his fingers under your waistband again.

you’re silent for a second. you look back at felix and minho and both send encouraging smiles.

“if you don’t want to, we’ll never speak of this again,” felix starts.

“and if you do want to, and halfway through you want to stop, the same thing applies,” minho finishes.

you look down to hyunjin, and just like you had imagined, his eyes blown out with lust. you have to admit, the whole idea sounds so erotic and hot. you nervously smile to your boyfriend.

“sure,” you whisper. “i trust you.”

with one swift motion, hyunjin slides your pants down your legs revealing your lack of undergarments underneath. you look back up to the ceiling again, the small gasps the three boys make fill you with embarrassment.

“you’re pretty, y/nnie,” felix giggles.

“say thank you,” hyunjin mumbles as he presses soft kisses on your lower stomach.

“thank you, felix,” you respond breathlessly.

“spread your legs for us,” minho suggests.

“hey,” hyunjin whips his head around to face his members. “you’re both just supposed to be watching, no instructions, just compliments.”

“we just want a better view. she’s very pretty.”

they way they speak about you as if your an exhibit makes your skin hot. you’d never been able to put on a jaw-dropping dance performance for them, but you can put on a show like this. and that gives you some confidence you didn’t know you had.

you lock eye contact with felix as you reach down to fully remove your pants, which have been sitting on your ankles. as you take them over you through them in his direction, his eyes go wide. next you lock eyes with minho and slowly drape your thigh over one of hyunjin’s shoulders.

“thank you, y/n.” minho smiles. 

hyunjin starts to trail kisses to your inner thigh, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin with the intention of leaving marks. the artist, your boyfriend, loves to look back on his hand-painted works, your thighs and chest, to admire his paintings, his deep purple and red hickeys.

his nose brushes over your clit and you whimper out, you hadn’t even realized how worked up this whole ordeal has gotten you and just how badly you wanted hyunjin to take you right here in front of his friends.

“jinnie, please,” you whisper, interlocking your fingers in his long, black hair. 

you look back down to your beautiful boyfriend on his knees in front of you. he makes everything he does look angelic, even if he’s committing a sinful act like this. he takes no time to flick the tip of his tongue against your clit, waves of pleasure being sent through your body. hyunjin’s hands rub up and down your thighs, soothing your nerves and fully focusing your attention on to him.

hyunjin wraps his soft lips around your clit and sucks hard on the sensitive bud. you moan loudly and arch your back off the mirror. he looks up at you through his eyelashes and you swear you could cum on the spot. his eyes stare into your soul with so much love and passion but also with lust that drives you crazy.

one of hyunjin’s hands part from your thighs and two of his fingers tease your entrance. as he slowly pushes half of his fingers in, you look back up to the two boys in front of you. you almost forgot they were there, hyunjin had you so immersed in focusing on him you had forgotten about the show you were supposed to be presenting.

your eyes wander between the two, you notice the tent that has formed in minho’s sweats and the bag strategically placed on felix’s lap. you smile at the two, your ego being fueled by the fact that the boys are aroused by watching you and your lover.

hyunjin’s pushes his digits deep inside you, curling his fingers up to the spot your own fingers could never find. he begins to quickly thrust his fingers in and out of your hole, the room being filled of your small moans and the sound of your arousal squelching around hyunjin’s fingers. 

“please don’t stop, jinnie,” you whimper, tightening your grip on his hair. hyunjin moans against your pussy and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“you’re beautiful, y/n,” minho purrs. “is jinnie making you feel good?”

“s-so good,” you whine, bucking your hips up against hyunjin’s face.

felix’s eyes roll back in his head and he throws his head back against the top of the couch. minho sighs admirably and removes his sweatshirt.

an ounce of courage makes its way into your bodies and you look back and forth between hyunjin and his members. “can you three touch yourselves for me?” you ask softly.

hyunjin looks up at you again, eyebrows furrowed as he moves his hand to palm himself over his pants. you look up to find minho doing the same thing, his mouth opening slightly when his hand makes contact with his crotch. felix hesitantly moves the bag from his lap which reveals a clear outline of his cock in his shorts, you even notice a small wet patch of precum staining the fabric. 

the whole scene makes your knees weak, the three boys all turned on to the thought of you and all pleasuring themselves in front of you.

“so close, jinnie, please,” you moan, tangling your other hand into his hair.

hyunjin looks down and slides his hand into his sweats and frees his aching cock from its confines. you watch as he teases his tip with his thumb, smearing his precum all over the head. your eyes go wide as he begins to stroke himself and look back up to you. 

“gonna cum, please,” you beg.

what finally sends you over the edge is the view of both minho and felix sliding their own hands into the pants and watching them massage themselves to the sight of you. you grip the sides of hyunjin’s face and rut your hips against him as his fingers and tongue continue to fuck you through your orgasm. 

“holy shit,” felix gasps.

you look down to hyunjin and watch your release spill out of you. dripping down your legs and spraying onto hyunjin’s face, chest, and cock. hyunjin pulls away from your pussy once your legs start to shake and uses your release and lube to aggressively jerk himself to his own release. he locks eyes with you as he continues to fuck his fist.

you look up to the two boys across the room, both sitting with their mouths agape stilling palming themselves under their pants.

“look at me, y/n,” hyunjin says, his low voice sending chills through your body. as you look down you watch as hyunjin releases into his fist. spurts of white cum landing on his bare chest and your legs.

you look back up to minho and felix as the two release soft moans as well. felix covers his mouth with one hand as his hips thrust up in the air and he finishes with a muffled groan. minho is soon to follow, taking his cock out of his pants and pulling his shirt up to finish on his bare stomach.

“wow,” you sigh, eyes panning between all three boys. 

the four of you sit in silence for a while, all three trying to regulate your breathing patterns and cool yourselves off. minho is the first to speak.

“i think that was a successful rehersal,” he says softly, grabbing one of his sweat towels and wiping his stomach clean. “same time next week?”

you, felix, and hyunjin all chuckle softly as you all begin to wipe yourselves off and grab your things. 

“y/n,” hyunjin starts, coming up next to you as you grab your practice bag. “you’re an incredible performer. don’t think any different.”

live laugh love danceracha

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

[cosmicdream222]

DMT breathwork video to enter the void

This morning after I got up and fed the cats, I felt like going back to bed to meditate. I looked through some of my saved videos for inspiration and decided to do a breathwork video. I have practiced breathwork on and off since around 2018 and I highly recommend it for overall wellness and nervous system regulation, but in the past few months I’ve seen it recommended many times to enter the void or shift.

Wim Hoff style breathwork is the one I’ve seen recommended, but I just could not get over the guy’s overhyping cartoonish-sounding voice 😭 So a few months ago I found this YT breathwork teacher Breathe with Sandy who has Wim Hoff style guided videos. His voice is sooo soothing, his audio/video production and sound mixing are top quality, and the dude really knows what he’s doing!

He published this DMT breathwork video on Christmas and since then I had tried it a few times and enjoyed it. I figured I would do the video and then queued up something to chill out to afterwards.

This kind of breathwork is pretty intense tbh, and I thought there were only 3 rounds, but there are 4. When he said we were starting the 4th and final round I thought omg another one 😭 I need a break for a sec. So I just stopped the breathing pattern for a min and zoned out.

Next thing I know I can’t feel anything, can’t hear the music or Sandy’s voice, can’t hear the loud brown noise I have playing in my room. Holy sh!t did I really just enter the void that easily!? Yes, yes I did 😭 I was so startled and surprised that I couldn’t even feel my headphones or hear anything that I snapped my awareness back to the room to hear the video again.

But omg y’all I wasn’t even trying or affirming for the void cuz I figured I would after the video ended. I’m so shocked it happened so quickly and easily. Next time ima not be so shocked and actually affirm for something 😭

So my fellow void seekers, give this video a try and see what happens. If you’ve never tried breathwork before it can be really intense, and you might need to practice a few times before you get the hang of it. But if you’re someone like me who overthinks and gets too impatient with traditional mediation, breathwork might be the way to go ✌️

Note: “breath retention” means holding your breath. Wim Hoff style breathing, what Sandy uses in this video, does the breath retention on the exhale - when the lungs are empty. The style of breathwork I learned from Tony Robbins and a trauma-informed breathwork coach Samantha Skelly does the breath retention on the inhale - when the lungs are full.

I don’t know the reasoning behind either style, but I prefer to do the breath hold when my lungs are full and that’s what I did this time too.

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

OMGG hear me out

size kink with namgyu😩 i just KNOW this man’s hands are massive — could be headcanons or a fic babe i don’t mind aha take ur time love ur writing xx

Passenger Princess

Character: Namgyu x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit (18+) Genre: Smut, Soft Romance, Roadtrip AU Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: On a late-night roadtrip stop, you and Namgyu get more than just McDonald’s. Wrapped up in blankets, sipping a milkshake, you can’t stop giving him that look — the one that always drives him crazy. A heated backseat encounter reminds you just how tiny you are compared to him... and how good it feels to be taken care of afterward, tucked back into the safety of his big hands.

⚠️ Content Warnings:

Size kink (reader is significantly smaller than Namgyu)

Oral fixation (milkshake sipping, lots of mouth focus)

Car sex / backseat sex

Vaginal penetration (unprotected; established relationship)

Reader struggling to take Namgyu (stretching, minor pain/pleasure mix)

Praise kink (lots of pet names: "baby," "princess")

Hand-holding during sex for comfort

Aftercare-heavy (blanket bundling, milkshake feeding, forehead kisses)

Mild overstimulation

Slight power imbalance (Namgyu being very big/controlling but soft)

No use of explicit reader body descriptors (reader is coded fem but body-neutral

The car rumbled softly down the empty highway, headlights carving a path through the dark.

Namgyu’s hand was big and steady on the wheel, knuckles flexing every now and then as he shifted lanes. You were bundled up in the passenger seat — blankets up to your chin, sipping a McDonald’s milkshake and stealing glances at him from beneath your lashes.

He looked so good like this — calm, focused, one hand lazily tapping the wheel to the music playing low on the radio. His other hand — huge, veined, warm — kept drifting over to squeeze your thigh, thumb rubbing lazy circles through the fabric of your leggings.

He hadn’t even said anything yet.

But you knew that look he kept shooting you.

That slow, heated glance that made your stomach flip.

That tiny smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth every time you shivered under his touch.

You sucked on the straw, pretending not to notice.

Didn’t work.

At the next empty pull-off, he turned the wheel sharply, guiding the car onto a secluded overlook.

The engine idled.

You set your milkshake down, heart already racing.

"You," Namgyu said, voice low and amused, "have been giving me that look for an hour."

You blinked up at him, innocent. "What look?"

He chuckled — deep and rough — and reached across the console, cupping your face in one massive hand.

"This one," he said, thumb brushing your cheek. "All sweet and soft and needy."

Before you could protest, he was tugging the blankets off you, unbuckling your seatbelt, and guiding you into the backseat like it was nothing.

Like you weighed nothing at all.

You climbed into his lap without thinking, straddling his thick thighs, hands braced against his chest.

He kissed you — slow, dirty — tongue sliding into your mouth like he owned it.

When his hands dropped to your hips, pulling you against him, you felt the hard length of him through his jeans.

Big.

So fucking big.

You whimpered into his mouth.

Namgyu grinned, nipping your bottom lip. "You gonna be good for me, princess?"

You nodded, dizzy with want.

You didn’t even notice him pulling your leggings down — not until he was tugging his own pants low enough to free his cock, thick and heavy against his stomach.

You stared.

You always did.

Every single time, you forgot how huge he was.

You shifted nervously, already feeling your body clench tight at the thought.

Namgyu caught your chin between two fingers, tilting your face up to his.

"Don't overthink it," he murmured. "Just hold my hand."

He laced his big fingers with yours — his palm practically swallowing yours — and gave you a reassuring squeeze.

You nodded again, heart thundering.

Slowly, he guided you down onto him.

The stretch burned — deep and raw — and you whimpered, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

"Shh," he soothed, rubbing circles into your back. "You're doing so good, baby. Just breathe."

You gasped, squeezing his hand tighter as you sank lower, his cock filling you more than you thought possible.

You felt so small like this — so tiny around him — like he could break you if he wasn’t careful.

And somehow, that made you even wetter.

He kissed your temple, whispering filth-soft into your hair.

"Look at you," he groaned, voice rough with awe. "So little. Barely fit around me, huh?"

You nodded helplessly, nails digging into his massive hand.

He started moving — slow, deep thrusts that made your whole body rock with the force of it.

Every time he pushed in, you cried out, muffling your sounds against his hoodie, overwhelmed by how much of him there was.

Namgyu was patient — holding you, murmuring praises into your ear, letting you hide your face while he stretched you open and filled you completely.

"You’re perfect," he whispered. "Taking me so good, baby. My pretty little passenger princess."

You sobbed out a soft noise, clinging tighter, letting him use you — slow, possessive, greedy.

Outside, the world was dark and silent.

Inside the car, it was just you and him and the slick sound of skin against skin, the windows fogging up with every gasping breath.

He didn't let go of your hand the whole time.

Not until you finally shattered around him, crying out his name in a high, broken sob — and even then, he kissed you through it, filling you deep, praising you like you were the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

The car was quiet now, except for the sound of your heavy breathing and the low hum of the engine.

Namgyu stroked your hair gently, his big hands moving slowly, soothing you while you curled against his chest — still trembling slightly from how hard you'd come.

"You did so good for me, baby," he whispered against your hairline, voice deep and raspy.

You mumbled something back — half-words, half-whimpers — too blissed out to form a real sentence.

Namgyu just chuckled softly, that low, chest-rumbling sound that made you feel even smaller against him.

"You’re so fucking cute," he murmured.

Carefully, he lifted you off him, hissing softly at the sensitivity.

You whimpered as he set you down on the seat beside him, but he was already grabbing one of the spare blankets from the floor — warm, soft — and wrapping it around your shoulders.

"There we go, princess," he said, tucking you in like you were something fragile and precious. "All cozy."

He kissed your forehead before tucking himself back into his jeans, his movements unhurried and calm.

You stayed slumped against the seat, dazed and boneless, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Namgyu pulled out a napkin from the McDonald’s bag and gently wiped between your thighs — soft, almost reverent.

"Sorry if it’s a little cold," he murmured, glancing up to make sure you were okay.

You just nodded, cheeks flushed, blinking up at him like he hung the moon.

He smiled — that rare, fond smile he only ever gave you — and tossed the napkin into a bag on the floor.

Then he helped you climb back into the front seat, tucking you back into the nest of blankets like a spoiled little passenger princess.

You didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Namgyu leaned over you, buckling your seatbelt with a soft click, kissing your cheek afterward like it was second nature.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

You nodded again, still floating.

He grinned, clearly satisfied, and handed you your half-melted milkshake from the cupholder.

"Drink some," he ordered gently. "You need the sugar."

You sipped obediently, the cold hitting your throat sharply — refreshing and grounding.

Namgyu started driving again, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching over to tangle his fingers with yours.

You clung to him like a lifeline, tiny compared to his massive hand wrapped around yours.

The road stretched endlessly ahead — dark and peaceful.

You leaned your head against the window, blankets tucked up under your chin, his hand never letting go of yours.

Every few minutes, he'd squeeze your fingers gently — a silent reminder:

I'm here. You're mine. You're safe.

You sipped your milkshake, heart full and soft and so in love you thought you might burst.

There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Passenger princess forever.

[ruruumin]

soulmates

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x gn! reader.

⤷ he asks an intimate question: are you soulmates?

“do you think we’re soulmates?” 

his sudden question broke you from your trance. standing in the kitchen with your back turned against him. you don’t notice the pensive expression written across his face. while you were cleaning up the rest of the dishes, he’s hung over the table with a dirty towel. he presses his lips tightly together, clenching his teeth. 

on this quiet night, the only thing between you and him are the sound of crickets chirping. 

as you squeeze the light green cup in your hands (a gift rin got you when your previous one broke), you can see in its reflection your boyfriend’s still figure. 

“why do you ask?” you reply, taking a plaid handkerchief from the oven handle and scrubbing the surface of the glass. “is something on your mind?”

“that movie we just watched, it made me wonder about us.”

the movie in question was a cheesy romcom the two of you put on to pass time while you cooked dinner. it was extremely cliche; so much so that you found it rather easy to turn it off. and while you didn’t think much about the corny idea of having a soulmate mark on your wrist, rin hadn’t stopped thinking about it since finishing his meal. 

“what would you do if we weren’t soulmates, rin?” setting down the glass, you rotate your body so you were facing him. as you lean against the counter he looks back at you with a wide-eyed look. 

“well— i wouldn’t, i—” he pauses for a second. trying to gather his thoughts, he rakes through every memory and moment he had with you. from times where he made you wait on the benches after practice, to not drying the dishes properly—every little flaw he had encountered before was now coming to him in waves. 

what if you weren’t soulmates? what if, underneath your flesh and bone, you were meant to be someone elses? what would he do then? sure, the movie wasn’t real, he knows that, but that doesn’t keep him from thinking about the possibility that a soulmate system exists. for all he knows, there might exist some kind of supernatural cupid that had your pinky tied to someone else. 

in his silence, you were sure he was more than overthinking your hypothetical question. bringing yourself closer to him, you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to press a light kiss against his ear. you can feel him shiver against your light touches. smiling with gratification, you lean onto him. 

“soulmates are made, not born,” you whisper, brushing through his dark locks with the tips your fingers. with your other hand, you drag it across his biceps, settling right beneath his elbow to guide his arms around your waist.

burying his face into your shoulder, he burrows his nose against the bone. “really?”

“seriously.” 

“you don’t think your soulmate might be someone else?”

“never.” 

with a deep exhale he resist the urge to turn his head away from you, “you make it sound so simple though.” 

“because it is just that.” when you try to take a step back, he moves forward, closing the distance once more. he’s chasing after your warmth. one taste of it wasn’t enough and you understand that feeling. its something the two of you share for each other.

“like that. i’m yours, rin. and i think i was made for you.” dropping your arm, you shift it towards his thin waist. drawing circles onto his spine that has him whining under his breath, “and you were made for me.” 

“you’re happy here?”

“more than happy, with you.” 

“with me.”

“with you,” you repeat. 

and he breathes a big sigh of relief. 

[strawberryicedcookies]

HOW I MANIFESTED HANGING OUT WITH MY SP IN UNDER 3 DAYS.

this post is about my last sp update!! im going in depth on how i did it because yesterday i was so excited and typing on alot of adrenaline, so i didnt even go into enough detail on how i did it 😂😂.

When i first started affirming for him, i didnt believe my affirmations, but thats why i was affirming. I never want you guys to think you need to believe your affirmations right away. I was constantly affirming that he needed me, he loves me, we always hang out (hanging out with him was the main goal.)

When i first started manifesting him, we werent even close friends at all, but one thing about manifestation, everything will pull you to your desire. EVERYTHING that happens will bring you closer to your desire.

I would affirm ATLEAST 10k times a day (using the counter app), i did guided meditations EVERY NIGHT for those 3 days, i did SATS, subliminals, affirmation tapes, self concept work. Baby i was SATURATING MY MIND (doing my 3 day challenge).

After the first day, i genuinely believed that he was mine, i believed that i was dating him, it felt so natural. Then he texted me out of the complete blue, we started texting ALL DAY and the next day we talked at school all day, he texted me when we got home, we were just talking all the time. I wasn’t done though, i was manifesting that we would hang out and i wasn’t stopping until we did 🤷🏿‍♀️ i wasn’t about to take a half-assed manifestation, i wanted to hangout with him, so i was going to (this was day 2 btw).

I never stopped affirming bro, i persisted persisted persisted. The next day randomly my sister said her friend was going to pick us up and we were going to window shop at target. I was still manifesting in my head at this point, i knew that my SP was going to hangout with me, i just didn’t know how. Then my sister suggested that we eat at mcdonalds before we go to target, so we go to McDonalds. When i got there, some of my friends (they were also mutual friends with my SP) were already eating there so i decided to talk with them. (my SP was still not there, and tbh, i didnt know if he was coming at all. but i wasnt even worried about that, I knew we were going to hangout today regardless). Next thing i know, after about 30 minutes of talking with my friends, i see SP walking up to the mcdonalds after his basketball practice!!! We start talking and we end up staying there for like another hour or so. Then, when the whole group finished eating (it was like 6 of us at this point). he got into my friends tiny ass car with me and my friends and some of his friends 😂 (for reference it was 6 of us in a 4 seater) so me and my SP were SO CLOSE. We had the most fun hangout!! (we never ended up going to target, thats the most ironic part 😂 if we had went to target right away, i would’ve never seen my SP. Thats why i say that everything is pushing you closer to your manifestation.) 3 DAYS IS ALL IT TOOK , because i ASSUMED thats all it would take. I wasnt overthinking, i wasnt worried about when it would happen, i knew that all i needed was 3 days, and i left it at that. STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE HOW!!! Everything is working to bring your manifestation to you, rest assured!!

if you assume that you can manifest them instantly, then you can. Its whatever you assume that manifests. In my success story post, i showed yall a little bit of my affirmation list, and yall SAW that he did EXACTLY WHAT I AFFIRMED. Manifestation is PERFECT, whatever you affirm WILL HAPPEN, not slightly, FULLY!!

so to wrap it up, how is manifested hanging out with him and having the fun of my life.

-long ass affirmation list that i repeated

- SATs and guided meditations

- robotic affirming (with and without the counter app

- constantly listening to affirmation tapes/subliminals

-living in the wish full filled (i believed he was mine and that we always hang out)

- detaching and not focusing on how it would happen

- did not overconsume manifesting tips, i knew how you manifest, so i put it to practice

- saturated the FUCK out of my subconscious

- hella self concept work.

REMEMBER!! methods dont manifest, YOU DO!!

[vivilvr]

When I Caress Your Body, Move to the Rhythm

✧ Pairing: Daniela Avanzini x Fem Reader

After getting caught watching Daniela dance one too many times, you try to play it cool. But Daniela’s not fooled. She takes matters into her own hands (literally) and invites you in for a private lesson to teach you some moves.

✧ Wc: 1.1k ✧ Status: Completed

✧ Tags: Fluff, Tension, Dancer!Daniela, Stylist!Reader, Suggestive

♫ Now Playing: 1&Only ♫

You weren’t planning to stop. That’s what you’ll tell yourself.

You’re just passing through the practice halls, arms crossed, fingers twitching from a day of snipping thread and re-pinning the same stubborn hemline. The hallway's quiet now, rehearsal long over, but you hear music leaking out from Katseye’s practice room. Slow, pulsing. Something sensual. Your feet slow down not to stop but just to… pause for a second.

The door is cracked open. Light spills through in soft slashes, warm against the cool tile of the buildings hallway. And inside is her.

Daniela.

Alone.

You know that shape, that silhouette. You’ve fit a dozen stage costumes to it, measured the arch of her back with pins in your mouth and chalk dust on your fingers. But here, isolated and moving freely, she looks different. It’s like the air bends for her. She isn’t dancing to the music; the music is dancing for her. Her body rolls through each movement with the kind of practiced ease that’s hard-earned and a little unreal. Like she’s summoning the rhythm from the walls and letting it possess her bones.

You let yourself look too long. And then her eyes catch yours in the mirror.

You freeze. Stupid. Caught.

But Daniela doesn’t react. She pauses just long enough to let you feel it, that you’ve been seen, before she turns casually wiping sweat from her collarbone with the edge of her tank top. Her dark curls fall forward, framing her face too perfectly. They cling to her neck in ways that shouldn’t be distracting. They are.

She smirks, almost lazily. “Didn’t think anyone else was still around.”

“I was just walking past,” you lie, stepping inside like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Wasn’t sure whose music that was.”

She nods like she believes you. Like she doesn’t already know you’ve been lingering after rehearsals more often than not, always finding some stray pin, earring or scarf to keep you around. Always timing it just late enough that the majority of the other girls are gone.

“You wanna stay?” she asks, casually stretching like she’s underwater, slow and fluid. Every movement pulls your eyes without asking permission. Lean muscle shifts beneath her skin with the kind of control that makes your throat a little dry. It isn’t a performance, and that’s what makes it impossible to look away.

You hesitate. She notices. Then she turns back to the mirror and starts again, like she’s already forgotten you. Like you’re free to go.

But you don’t. And she knows you won’t.

You take a few awkward steps in, suddenly hyper-aware of your arms, your posture, the sweat on your palms. She glances over her shoulder. “Ever danced?”

“That’s um… not really my forte.” You try to laugh, hoping she doesn’t hear the slight crack in it. “I’m much better at coordinating fabrics than I am my feet.”

She hums. “Might be fun to teach you, then.”

Your stomach flutters. “Fun?”

She doesn’t look back. “Come here.”

You move toward her. She approaches you slowly, hips loose, her walk still threaded with rhythm, like the music never left her body. Then she’s behind you, and her hands land lightly on your hips.

“Start here,” she murmurs, voice soft, like she’s only halfway paying attention, like this is casual. Her fingers are gentle but certain. “Loosen up.”

You try. You fail. You’re overthinking everything.

Her hand lands on your hip again, firmer this time. The kind of touch that’s instructional, technically. But the warmth of it bleeds through your clothes, and suddenly your coordination is not your top priority.

“Just relax,” she says, guiding your stance. Her voice is low and patient but dangerous.

You try. You really do. But your body’s stiff in all the wrong places.

“Relax,” she repeats, and this time her hands slide gently coaxing your hips into motion, fingers pressing like she’s tuning an instrument. “Not like that. You’re forcing it.”

“I’m not forcing anything,” you say quickly. Too quickly.

She hums, clearly amused. “Sure you aren’t.”

Her body aligns with yours, her chest brushing your back. She’s not touching you outright, but you can feel every point of contact in excruciating detail. The curve of her arm guiding yours, the whisper of her breath near your neck.

“Feel it here,” she murmurs, her palm skimming down to rest over your lower stomach. “Let it start from your center.”

Your breath hitches. “That sounds...”

Daniela laughs behind you, soft and smug. “Lead with your hips and your feet will follow.”

You shift your weight like she showed you. Your hips roll, slow, uneven. She adjusts them with a practiced tug. It shouldn’t feel intimate. But it absolutely does.

“There,” she says, her lips close to your ear now. “That’s better.”

You nod, too flustered to speak. As your brain is overloading shouting things like this is fine and she smells so good and you are not actively dying while your body betrays you with how warm your face feels.

“You’re a little stiff,” she murmurs.

“I told you,” you mutter quietly, trying to laugh it off, “I’m not good at this.”

“Mmm~” Her hands are back on your hips, moving you in time with her own now. “You’re not bad. You just need a little... practice.”

“I think you’re enjoying this,” you say, before you can stop yourself.

She grins. “Shouldn’t I?”

You don't answer. You can’t. Not with her body pressed against yours like it’s nothing. Not with the music slow and heavy in the background, and her hands slipping just a little lower and lingering a little too long than they probably need to be for instructional purposes.

She catches your eye in the mirror. There's desire there, but also humor. Like she knows exactly how far she’s pushing you. And she’s waiting to see if you’ll break.

“Keep going,” she says smoothly. “You’re just starting to find your rhythm.”

You do, moving with her, trying not to get lost in the way she guides you like she’s molding clay. Every correction feels like a dare. Every brush of her fingers says something she won’t voice aloud. The steps don’t matter. The music doesn’t matter. There’s only the pulse of her, and the echo of it in you.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, a single thought rises:

You are so completely and utterly screwed.