#never getting ill effects would be so good

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P3

pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader

warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed.

summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 4-

=

Thankfully, as she woke up, (y/n) hadn't moved from her bed throughout the night. She sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing her face, drawing back the curtains of her bed, seeing her roommates all up and getting dressed for the day. It was a Sunday, so it was Hogsmeade day for years 3 and up.

Hogsmeade sounded fun.

(y/n) looked at the diary and grabbed it, popping open her ink well and grabbing her quill, flipping open a book to the now blank page she’d been writing in the night before.

“Morning Tom.”

Tom took a moment to respond, her ink disappearing into the page as his elegant scrawl appeared in its place.

‘Good morning (y/n), did you sleep well?’

“yes I did, thankfully. Woke up where I should be too, in my bed.”

‘Very good. Are you feeling better?’

“yeah, much better, thank you. Im going to go to Hogsmeade today, would you like to come with?”

‘Well, I wouldn’t be able to do much, would I?’

(y/n) hummed in thought, Tom had a point, as he could only see what she wrote/illustrated in the book.

“good point, but I could maybe bring you to the bookstore there and get some ink you’d like?”

‘I don’t eat the ink (y/n)’

“not what I meant but that’s a very funny visual thank you.”

(y/n) giggled to herself, imagining the book eating the ink instead of just absorbing it to write back to her.

“I meant like, would you like some fancy ink? I saved up some money from my allowance and can get some good ink from the store if you would prefer it?”

‘How…generous of you, (y/n)’

“thank you :)”

Tom took a very long moment to respond, as if he was thinking long and hard about her offer. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote back-though he did so while (y/n) was getting dressed for her outing to Hogsmeade, putting on an oversized sweater for maximum comfort.

‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you brought the diary along, I certainly don’t mind good inks to write with, I myself was never able to afford more than the most basic brands.’

(y/n) tilted her head a bit, a smile growing on her face. Tom was opening up to her a bit! Okay-play it cool-don’t overreact.

“aww really?”

‘I don’t need your pity (y/n)’

Oops.

“not pity! Im sorry! Just…idk”

‘What in the merlin does ‘idk’ mean?’

“Oh-I don’t know-its an abbreviation.”

‘Why don’t you just write ‘I don’t know’, it’s not hard?’

“idk, just easier.”

She felt like she could hear him sigh, which made her giggle and she finished getting dressed before writing to him again.

“okay okay, im going to go eat, ill be back to grab you before everyone heads out to Hogsmeade.”

Tom didn’t respond so (y/n) closed the diary and put it back on her bedside table, capping her ink well and cleaning her quill before leaving her room, heading out to the great hall for breakfast.

-

Hogsmeade, thankfully, took the rest of the events from the night before off (y/n)’s mind as she went from store to store, starting at the book store and writing down ink brands and types to Tom, who eventually picked out a non-expensive India ink, but it was definitely more costly than the usual ink she got.

She closed the diary and put it back in her bag, taking the new ink to the front and buying it, the shopkeep wrapping it in paper and then giving it to her in a paper bag.

She counted how much money she had left as she walked down the main path of the village, nodding to herself as she pocketed the coins. She had enough to do someday after Halloween candy shopping.

She hopped straight into Honeydukes, where loads of other students were buying their own discounted candy, and quickly got some candies that were under the discount.

Including a bag of candy corn, and it was the type made in shop-which was even better.

“What is it with you and candy corn (n/n)?” one of her friends that had accompanied her to Hogsmeade asked teasingly, attempting to steal one of the candies (y/n) had bought.

“It’s good!” (y/n) defended the candy, holding the box to her chest. She knew candy corn wasn’t a worldly liked candy-but it was hers and her dad's favorite, so it not only tasted good to her, but it also was nostalgic.

(y/n)’s friend snickered, taking a caramel apple lollipop from (y/n)’s bag full of discounted Halloween candy. (y/n) rolled her eyes, the two catching up with the rest of their friends, hanging out at the three broomsticks for a while before heading back to the castle.

Upon getting back to her dorm room, (y/n) poured out the candy onto her bed and spread it out, sorting it and eating a few pieces here and there as she separated the chocolates from the hard candies, and the lollipops from the taffy.

She took out the diary and the new well of ink, opening the wax around it and setting it aside, testing the ink on her actual notebook before writing to Tom.

“back from Hogsmeade! Using the new ink as well :)”

‘I can tell, it’s far smoother than the ink you were using before.’

“I’m glad you like it! I also got a lot of candy from honeydukes, they were having a day after Halloween sale, I got nearly 5 pounds of candy for one galleon.”

‘Sweet tooth?’

“big one.”

(y/n) smiled brightly as she continued her conversation with Tom, which turned to her asking Tom what his favorite candy was…is.

‘I haven't tried much candy if I must be honest, though I do like treacle tarts.’

“yum, those are pretty good”

“great now Im craving treacle tart thanks Tom.”

‘You’re welcome, (y/n)’

­-

(y/n) happily painted on some Slytherin green and silver face paint onto her cheeks, today was the first quidditch game of the year, and the Slytherin team had gotten a new seeker-the spoiled as fuck Draco Malfoy, who everyone knew bribed his way in but he still wasn’t a terrible flyer-and brand new brooms.

The whole Slytherin house was excited, ready to win the first match of the season against Gryffindor, since they hadn’t won a game against Gryffindor since Harry Potter joined the team the year before.

“You almost ready (y/n)?!” her friend called from the bathroom as she herself finished her makeup.

“Yeah!” (y/n) said, hopping to her feet after pulling away from her desk mirror. “I’m all done!” she wrapped a scarf around her neck and hooked her arm with her friends and they all went down to the quidditch pitch together, the roar of excitement already humming through the stands.

The game started quickly after that and it was exciting! The Slytherins were walloping the Gryffindors easily-quickly overtaking them 90-30. (y/n) whistled and cheered for her team, throwing her fists into the air with each score. “Woah what the fuck?!” she heard her friend suddenly exclaim and (y/n) turned to see where she was looking, her brows furrowing as a bludger began to deliberately chase Harry Potter.

“Is that a rouge bludger??” (y/n) said, her lip curling in confusion. “What the hell they’re like-impossible to tamper??” (y/n) and her friend stopped paying attention to the game as a whole, watching in near horror as Harry was chased around by a bludger.

The Weasley twins tried to bat it away from him but it kept coming back.

“that’s not good-we should tell a teacher-“ (y/n) stuttered, turning to head off the stands, maybe catch Madam Hooch’s attention and stop the game before someone got hurt. (y/n)’s friend nodded and followed her through the crowd of Slytherins and down the stands.

Just as they reached Madam Hooch, the bludger had slammed into Harry’s arm as he reached for the snitch and he hit the dirt soon after; though he had the snitch in hand, Gryffindor had won the game. “Oh shit,” (y/n) muttered under her breath, looking at Harrys very broken arm, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, ending the game.

The Weasley twins somehow caught the tampered bludger, getting it back into the box and locking it down. Madam Hooch instantly saw to it, and while that all happened-the idiot Lockhart…erm…mended Harry’s arm.

“Ew,” (y/n) muttered as her friend gagged at the rubber look Harry’s arm had taken. Lockhart hadn’t mended shit; he’d removed Harry’s bones!

“That is so nasty,” (y/n)’s friend muttered, and (y/n) nodded in agreement, heading back to the castle after Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone the match was over and to head back to the castle while Harry, and any other injured players, went to Madam Pomfrey.

“Gotta be honest, Gryffindor deserved that win, I mean-odds stacked against them, with those new brooms and that bloody bludger, they won. Shame Potter’s arm got broken for it though.” (y/n)’s friend ranted as they walked back to the common room, (y/n) nodding in agreement. “I have to wonder who tampered the bludger? I mean Madam Hooch checks them right before the game, and if it wasn’t tampered then, how could’ve someone hexed it within the minutes before the game began?”

(y/n) shrugged as her friend continued to rant. “Maybe someone tampered with it mid-game? Because it wasn’t doing it at first, if it was tampered with before the game-it would’ve gone after Harry straight away? Wouldn’t it?” (y/n) suggested, walking into the common room after several other students and her friend nodded, tapping her chin.

“That does sound logical, though I’m not sure how or why anyone would do that, I mean-he’s just a 12-year-old kid? Who’d want to charm a bloody iron magic ball to hurt him?” (y/n) shrugged in response to her friend's rhetorical question.

“Someone fucked up,” (y/n) answered anyway and her friend sighed, the two entering their dorm room. Her friend went to wipe the Slytherin-themed makeup off her face while (y/n) went to her bed and grabbed the diary.

“Potter almost got killed by a bludger at the quidditch match today.”

(y/n) could almost feel the sense of ‘!!?!?!’ from Tom as he hurriedly wrote back to her.

‘Who starts a conversation like that? also what? how? I never liked Quidditch but I’m sure those Quidditch gear chests are impossible to get into?’

“that’s what I said, I think someone jinxed it mid game because it wasn’t going after him at first.”

‘How odd. And it was going after Potter specifically?’

“yeah! Only him, the Weasley twins kept batting it away from him but it would go right back after Potter. Its really weird.”

‘I cannot tell you it isn’t, because it is very odd.’

“yeah”

(y/n) perked up as her friend came back out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go get lunch, you coming?” her friend asked and (y/n) nodded.

“Yeah, lemme just wash my face,” (y/n) said, looking back down at the diary and telling Tom she had to go, setting the book down on the bedside table and going into the bathroom to wash her face.

-

(y/n) woke up very late that night, a ringing in her ears as she opened her eyes, feeling kinda nauseous. She groaned lightly, realizing she’d fallen off her bed, her head pounding as she attempted to get up, pressing her palms to her eyes as they ached.

“What the fuck,” she muttered, rubbing her face. She’d never fallen off her bed before, but considering the odd dream she had-she wasn’t surprised. She eventually got to her feet after the nausea had passed and climbed back into bed, yawning.

She laid back down, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Her mind kept going back to that odd dream. She had been walking through the halls of Hogwarts, at what seemed to be a late hour, and went into one of the bathrooms and…spoke a strange language-a hissing language, and the…sink had come apart??? After that she woke up, having fallen off her bed mid weird dream.

She huffed and drew the curtains around her bed, grabbing her wand, the diary, and her quill. “Lumos,” (y/n) murmured and the tip of her wand began to glow and she opened the diary, flipping through pages and pages of notes, and doodles.

She dipped her quill and began to write to Tom.

“I fell out of my bed,”

‘And why is that so important to tell me? It’s late I’m sure, you should be asleep.’

“you’re right but I cant get back to sleep, I had a weird dream and woke up after falling out of my bed, which ive never done”

“or at least I havent done since I was a kid?”

‘Interesting. What was your dream about if I may ask?’

(y/n) wrote down what she remembered from the dream, and then added a small detail she hadn’t realized till now.

“it felt like I was having an out of body experience, or like I was watching through someone elses eyes? You get what I mean?”

‘I suppose I do, though im sure there’s nothing to worry about, everyone has odd dreams sometimes.’

“have you ever had an odd dream?”

‘Yes, I’m not divulging that information though, you’ll tease me relentlessly about it.’

“no I wont!”

(y/n) huffed as Tom didn’t respond, and she could imagine the expression of ‘sure you wont’ on his face. She wished she knew wha the looked like…wait maybe she could find him in the gallery! He did say he was a prefect in his time, maybe there was a picture somewhere of the 1942-1943 prefects.

“you’re no fun.”

‘Go to sleep (y/n),’

“fiiiine, goodnight Tom.”

‘Goodnight, (y/n)’

-

“A first year got petrified?!” (y/n) asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide as she gripped her friend's hand tightly as they walked to breakfast Monday morning.

“Yeah, apparently it happened Saturday night, or well, early Sunday morning if you think about it that way-but Professor Dumbledore found him in the middle of the night-just-stone still, petrified.” (y/n)’s friend rambled and (y/n) frowned, squeezing her friend’s hand tighter.

Early Sunday morning…she’d had that weird dream and fell out of her bed Sunday morning.

“What time did the first year get petrified?” (y/n) asked and her friend shrugged.

“Dunno, I’m only telling you what I heard from the grapevine, all I know is Sunday morning, a first year got petrified.” (y/n) huffed nervously in response, swallowing harshly, that weird feeling of paranoia returning to her gut.

Just a coincidence, just a coincidence. It had to be; besides, she’d just fallen out of her bed this time, she hadn’t sleepwalked, she hadn’t even left her dorm room.

…right?

-

“I’m leaving.” (y/n) huffed as dumbass Lockhart came onto the long dueling stage that was set up lengthwise in the great hall, replacing the house tables. Her friend grabbed her arm as she attempted to escape, tugging her towards the edge of the stage-making them be front and center.

“Oh, come on (y/n)~ it’ll be fun!” her friend said cheerfully, she’d didn’t understand why (y/n)…disliked ‘Professor’ Lockhart, even thinking he was hot.

It was one of the few things (y/n) vehemently disagreed with her on.

“it’ll be cringe as fuck that’s what it’ll be.” (y/n) grumbled, crossing her arms as she pouted. She expected maybe Professor Flitwick to be the head of the dueling club, but noooo it had to be the obvious fake Lockhart.

Though-Professor Snape had agreed to…help Lockhart in a demonstration, and that, was going to be fun.

(y/n) couldn’t help the peal of laughter that came from her as Snape sent Lockhart across the dueling stage, her friend gasping as Lockhart landed with a thump. “Is he okay?” her friend asked and (y/n) just snickered with the rest of the Slytherin members of the club.

“Who cares? That was funny.” (y/n) chuckled, smirking as her friend gave her a glare. After that everyone got paired into groups, Lockhart nearly putting the little 1st and 2nd years with the 5th and 6th years attending, Snape correcting that mistake and putting (y/n) against a fellow 6th-year Slytherin, though (y/n) hardly knew his name.

“Remember, disarm only!” Lockhart said and (y/n) rolled her eyes, bowing her to dueling partner with her wand at her side and then holding it out in front of her, her other arm over her head for balance.

The dueling began moments later, and spells shot out of their wands every other moment. (y/n) began with the disarming charm, expelliarmus, but her opponent blocked it and returned with a Stupefy. (y/n) went to block but it felt like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, she stepped to the side-avoiding the spell-and held out her wand in a grip that wasn’t her own.

“Relashio!” With a wave of her wand her dueling opponent was forced to drop their wand and then (y/n) twirled her wand again. “Depulso!” A blast of white magic flew towards her dueling opponent and they flew back, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

There was an intense satisfaction that ran deep in her bones for a split moment, and an odd feeling to finish her opponent off-but that quickly went away and (y/n) pocketed her wand, rushing over to her dueling partner. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked, offering her hand and her dueling partner chuckled painfully, rubbing their lower back as she helped them stand.

“I’m okay-that was wicked casting though,” (y/n) only nodded in response, licking her teeth as the dueling groups were stopped, a green haze in the air from the dueling 2nd years. She began to leave the great hall as Potter and Malfoy began to duel, only stopping when she heard a strange hissing coming from the stage.

She turned, the hissing sounding too familiar, coming from Potter as he…hissed at a black snake? Her ears began to ring, her vision going a bit blurry as she stared at Potter, the boy hissing at the snake before Snape destroyed it.

What the fuck?

That was the same hissing she’d heard in her dream on Sunday.

-end of p3-

im very happy with this part and i hope you guys are too-taglist!!!

@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon

@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott

[manikas-whims]

Xavier – Floral Blessing 🔖 | Highlights

MC and Xavier are most likely visiting a shrine or some sort of religious place wherein you make a wish and hang/tie a plaque in hopes of your wish coming true (this is quite a common ritual in many cultures)

MC drags Xavier to make a wish and tie a plaque.

(*coughs* so um..Red Parasols are commonly seen being held by japanese brides during their weddings. Sometimes seen in chinese weddings as well..)

MC drags him and it's probably why he stumbles forward, readjusts the parasol & this happens..😍

Eh..hem..Xav Girls, our man really likes to pin us under him 🤭

His gaze here is so full of admiration, love & want.

(he's definitely considering devouring her lol)

Moving on..

Xavier made his wish..

..and hung the plaque 🥺

Now it's MC’s turn!

If it isn't obvious already Xavier is carrying MC in his arms 😍 which is the reason for such an angle, and why MC/you are looking down at his face.

He is holding her up and helping her hang the plaque on the tree.

MC playfully asks him about his wish and he asks if she's curious..

the camera shaking up and down in the second gif is a result of MC nodding her head. YES XAVIER WE WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU WISHED FOR ♡

He responds with a shake of his head and winks while he speaks (I LOVE THIS GESTURE ON HIM! HE LOOKS SO FINE)

well..i gotta agree with him..even in my culture it's believed that you shouldn't reveal your wish until it's fulfilled. Many times those who hear your wish may or may not harbor good feelings towards you and thus, reduce the effect of the wish..

BUT HERE IT'S SO OBVIOUS THAT XAVIER IS MERELY TEASING MC 🤭 (he knows she would never harbor any ill feelings towards him)

It's obvious Xavier is still holding up MC in his arms while she pokes his cheek and messes with him 😆

(i love how childish and playful they both get around each other)

*SQUIISHHYYYYY SQUISH! SQUISH! SQUISH!*

And...

this leads to the hold of his arms around MC loosening and both of them stumbling LMAO 🤣

But before MC can fall, Xavier has managed to grab her by her thigh/ass, pulling her flush against himself 🤭 and her arms are wrapped tightly around his neck to keep herself from losing balance; both of their faces ending up extremely close 😏

leading to these idiots looking rather flustered and most likely with some desires ignited 🤭

(gifs used are mine)

i love how fluffy his cards seem to be but by the end something sensual always tends to happen 🤭 can't wait for this!

[utilitycaster]

On the heels of your critique of C3's pacing and the sludginess of it all—something I have been contemplating lately is how the perceived need (certainly ICly and seemingly OOCly) for BH to move at a breakneck speed from event to event has had an effect on inter-party discussions and bonding that I find really pretty tragic. I can't help but wonder, would we be dealing with the indecision and rehashed circular debates we're seeing now if the party had been able to take the downtime they needed to really get to know themselves and each other, and to better define what's important to them? I often see people expressing frustration about how badly certain characters "need to TALK to each other!!!" but to date, I just don't know if the pace of the campaign has created many opportunities for that. And that's the thing I miss the most about the previous campaigns, just having more breathing room to let the characters and their relationships develop organically. I dunno. Increasingly I feel like these are interconnected issues.

I think I've talked about this before so I don't want to get too in the weeds but: yes. I think at this point Matt is like...making space deliberately for them to talk in-game, but at this point the party has spent so long not really talking and we're so late in the game that no one really takes him up on it or when they do it's the old Gods Debate again.

I really think the problem is once again what I've been saying for like, well over a year now. I don't think the cast was given as much direction as they were for campaign 2, nor was the campaign deliberately tailored to this party, so it has always been ill-fitting. Even some of the pre-planned elements have fallen flat (I have innumerable reservations about the Laudna book, but I do want to read it if only because I still could tell you basically nothing about her and Imogen's time together pre-campaign - it's one incident in Gelvaan, helping Zhudanna one time in Jrusar which wasn't even pre-planned but rather their "session zero", and apparently they saw someone with boob tassels one time). Things like Ashton and Imogen's relationships with the gods feel tacked on after Taliesin and Laura realized that having some sort of pre-existing opinion on the gods was in fact deeply relevant to this campaign; I do genuinely want an answer from both of them of whether "I had prayed to the gods and they never answered" existed in their backstories more than 5 minutes before it came up in game because I'd bet good money it was "no, I threw that in on the fly." So you have characters that are a little more broadly sketched, which would normally be fine (I mean, I don't think most of Vox Machina in the original birthday party one-shot had a terribly deep backstory to start), except for the fact that they never had to take watch, they had a patron giving them jobs and a generous stipend from the start of episode 2 until his demise in episode 38, and both Imogen and Laudna; and FCG and Ashton already had apartments in the city so no one needed to bunk up with anyone they didn't already know. The party did not need to take watches; they did not need to decide on a direction; and they didn't have to learn to resolve conflicts and make choices as a collective group. And yes, the pace has been pretty breakneck throughout, so there wasn't space early on for the cast to feel out their characters and what motivated them and how they'd act. I think the first time I saw a large number of people in the fandom going "MAKE A FUCKING DECISION ALREADY I DON'T CARE WHICH ONE" was with the party doing a similar endless handwringing about Dusk in episode 29, and I don't think they've really gotten better. Like, I do think episode 29 is already on the late side anyway, even for a long-running campaign with a lot of wiggle-room; for a long-running campaign with some very specific plot beats planned, this really needed to be done in character creation.

So now that there is more room to debrief and talk, because in-character they're still on a deadline and the world's been ending all campaign, and because that groundwork wasn't laid, they don't talk about anything except the task at hand. Like...I think a defense I've seen of this campaign is that it's about a group of people who really aren't suited for what has been laid before them, but the problem is that's kind of every D&D campaign that starts from a low level and this is a particularly weak example thereof. Vox Machina didn't show up ready to kill dragons nor Vecna, and the Mighty Nein are still Wildemount's best kept secret; both of them grew into their current hypercompetence. Bells Hells don't really belong to their story, nor does it to them, so yeah, hard to talk within that framework.

[milkweedman]

Trying to eat when i have zero appetite and also am so tired and feel pretty sick but am going to work in half an hour and its a huge hassle to get food i can actually eat at work so i pretty much just dont: well do i even need to eat before 8pm. I ate some crackers last night and everything. Seems superfluous

[britneyshakespeare]

i was hanging out today w a friend i hadn't seen in awhile and kaily and i were catching up on all the drama involving him (my controlling manipulative and abusive ex-friend) and how he keeps going out of his way to ask ppl about where we are and find us and how the only reason i think i get out of it is bc i don't go to the same college as him anymore, i hardly ever leave the house socially and the few ppl i do see all have no connection w him anymore, and i don't work at some place where he can just show up. i work in pre-k-to-12 public schools. my schedule in terms of days/location is irregular anyway, but if some strange adult man shows up for no particular reason and seeks out a female employee, you do not just get let in. that is how you have the cops called on you. but he does know where i live and i have been paranoid about him finding some excuse to show up at my house. i've had legitimate nightmares about that. i never stopped having nightmares about him i'd say at least once every other week and i haven't talked to him in almost six months.

i don't like at all how i don't feel safe in a way that means i have faith that the issue is over; the person is out of my life; our communication will not be renewed against my will once again. bc all of those things have been attempted. i feel safe in a way that means he happens, by circumstance, not to be able to access me in any convenient way to him. any way he could find me (the only way to feasibly do that would be work/home) would be a justification for calling the police. but i don't have any faith that he wouldn't try, because he has shown himself as being capable of being that low. and if i switch jobs or transfer schools finally and he finds out about it, he can just make it an issue there if he so feels like it, and i'm sure he will. he's a monster. he gets some sort of thrill out of making other ppl feel unsafe and having all the control in the situation

[snekdood]

idk who needs to hear this (vaush) but being a skilled debater and being Good With Words does not make you correct.

[descendantofthesparrow]

upcoming Walter x reader fic sneak peek

=

The master stepped further into the room, his face finally out of the blinding sunlight, revealing his diamond-cut jaw, crystal blue eyes, and soft-looking black hair. You swallowed a bit, noticing some of the other girls doing the same, he truly matched the stories of his beauty.

You leaned towards your lady's maid, whispering in her ear; “He’s so pretty” she giggled, her nose scrunching slightly as the master's eyes flickered over to you, the corner of his lip quirking a bit; a dimple making itself known for a split moment. You felt yourself flush, knowing he had heard your every word thanks to his supernatural hearing.

=

featuring chronically ill! Alexander! Reader 

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Wrongful Imprisonment

Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)

You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.

You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.

What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.

They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.

To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.

It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.

The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.

They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.

You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.

"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"

You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.

"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"

You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.

But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.

Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.

In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.

Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.

"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."

His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.

He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.

At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.

He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.

His name was Lance.

And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.

He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.

Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.

The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.

You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.

Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.

You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.

You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.

And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.

And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.

The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.

Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.

Lance feigned joy at the news.

"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."

"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."

Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.

The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.

Lance knew what he had to do.

/////////

It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.

You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.

And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.

The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.

It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.

He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.

The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.

When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.

He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.

But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.

As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”

“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.

You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.

Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.

“You n-need to leave Lance.”

It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.

“No. I need to breed my husband.”

“Lance, y-you’re not my-”

He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.

The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.

He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.

Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.

The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.

Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.

You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.

He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.

Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.

You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.

The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.

As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.

But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.

After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.

[reidrum]

I can't stop thinking munch!spencer x reader who's insecure about having thick thighs (it's me, I'm reader)

take a seat | s.r

hi thank u for requesting!! i tried to be ambiguous about reader’s size but if it doesn’t come across that way lemme know and ill fix it!!!

wc: 1.7k

cw: 18+ smut minors dni, afab reader, face sitting, munch!spencer my beloved, insecure!reader who i took to be a little self indulgent sorry, fluff, hurt comfort but no hurt lol

this is also not proofread sorry

_______________________________________________

the thing about spencer is if you have any fear or qualm about anything, his main verbal form of comfort is information. and it’s not a bad thing, not at all. finding comfort in the facts is what spencer hopes to achieve when he spews his tidbits. it’s just, sometimes it’ll do more harm than good, or even worse, do nothing at all.

that’s where you’re at right now, sitting in spencer’s room with your legs tucked under you while he sits up at the head of the bed. the top buttons of his dress shirt are undone, tie strewn somewhere in the room. you’re still fully clothed albeit in a loose t shirt and some panties. the want in his eyes is undeniable, his question still lingering in the air.

you weren’t exactly the most confident person, but was anyone really? did people really wake up in the morning, look at themselves in the mirror and say, ‘wow, i look beautiful today.”? tell themselves they’re going to have a good day because they said so?

so when you’d spent your whole life living in the shadows trying to blend in and just do your job, one day an ever observant spencer reid saw you struggling to carry your coffee and your bag into the bullpen and came to your rescue before it could spill all over you. you were a mumbling mess, uttering thank you’s and i’m so sorrys and i’ll be more careful next time. but his gaze on you was unwavering, even in the face of your uneasiness, and firmly but softly told you nothing was wrong, and suggested that maybe you and him should get coffee before work to avoid this rush next time.

falling in love with him was too easy after that.

spencer never failed to make you feel cherished, loved, safe, always going above and beyond to care for your needs and wants. the trust you had in him was immense and you knew he would never steer you astray.

so sitting in front of him on his bed while he adorns a small smirk asking, no telling, you to sit on his face, made you falter a bit.

“you want me, to sit on your face?”

he nods, “yeah.”

any thought you’ve ever had vanishes from your brain, “b—but, won’t it be uncomfortable? for you?”

“not at all.”

seeing spencer be surprisingly calm about this is having the opposite effect on you, creating the unsettlement in your gut. like he’s been thinking about this for while, has wanted you at his mercy in a way you haven’t experienced before, has thought through all the facts and possibilities and ruled with absolute certainty that this was what he wanted, needed. and right now your body is betraying your mind as the heat pools between your legs.

but that brain of yours, a blessing with its vast knowledge but a curse at how easily a single thought can send you into a deep spiral, is working overtime to convince you that this isn’t really what he wants.

he can see the cogs working overtime and scoots closer to you and places a comforting hand on your thigh to rub soothing shapes with his thumb, “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“nothing i-“ you stop before you can get too deep.

his eyes look at you expectantly, luring you to continue.

“what if i hurt you?”

“that is literally impossible.”

“what if i suffocate you?”

“then that would be a great way to go out.” he chuckles.

you lightly slap his leg, “stop that.”

he gestures you closer to sit curled into his side, a comforting arm smoothing you up and down. “if you really don’t want to do it that’s okay i don’t want to push you, just want you to feel good s’all.”

you ponder for a minute, “…you would tell me if it’s too much right?”

“i would,” he nods, “but i won’t need to.”

he squeezes your hand in reassurance, and you remember that spencer reid would never lie to you.

which is why you say, “okay.”

his eyes light up like a carnival, “yeah?”

you take a deep breath, “yeah.”

“come here,” cupping your cheek to bring in and kiss you.

it starts off slow, deliberate. like he wants you to know how much he appreciates you placing your trust in his possession, and how gently and carefully he’s going to take care of it.

you hike a leg over his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his lips mark you like a road map. he moves down your jaw and uses his nose to nudge your neck away, giving him better access to litter the skin with love bites.

the moans spilling from your mouth spur him on, he starts subconsciously bucking his hips up causing you to grow restless for more.

he senses this and motions for you to lift up on your knees above him so he can slide his body down flat between your legs. the warm palms of his hands rest where your thighs meet the swell of your ass.

you look down at the sight of him laid out for you, and catch his shit eating grin staring back. the dichotomy this position gives you with a sense of power to be over him like this but the vulnerability at feeling so exposed caused a swirl of emotions for you.

“hey,” he squeezes his palms laid on your ass, “if this is a lot, that’s okay.”

“no, no.i think i want this. i’m just scared.” you softly admit.

“nothing to be scared of, angel. it’s not like i haven’t eaten you out before, it’s just a different position,” his hands move closer to your core, “let me make you feel good, please.”

you stare into his eyes once more, being met with nothing but trust and lust for you. with a deep breath, you nod your head.

he smirks again, “alright sweetheart, take a seat.”

you slowly inch your body up his own, hearing him outwardly groan as your cunt came into his line of sight.

“jesus fuck, you have the prettiest pussy.”

you preen at his words once you’ve reached the position, and you hover in hesitation. he wraps his arms under and around your legs and gently pulls you down.

and he attacks you like a man starved. his tongue licking a full stripe up your cunt, letting it swirl around your clit. the feeling is so intense in this position you have to lean forward and brace yourself on the headboard.

with a gasp you whine out his name, “oh my god, fuck.” he continues to use his tongue to barrel you towards your peak, knowing exactly where to touch and lick to rile you up.

he can tell you’re still holding back, feeling the tense muscles in your upper thighs harden under his touch. with a sharp tug he pulls you to be seated fully on his face, and he lets out a deep groan that vibrates through your whole body.

you’re fully at his mercy now, held down by his large hands and his mouth working so hard to make you see stars. the pleasure is overtaking all of your senses, when you look down to meet his eyes they’re staring right back at you, reveling in your ecstasy. a languished moan leaves you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull.

he laps up your arousal with urgency, tongue moving in such a delicate and intricate way you would think he’s writing a love letter with it.

the coil in your gut starts to tighten and you can feel your peak coming fast, “spence…” you whine.

he hums in response, silently acknowledging what you mean. one more slow lick up and down your slit was all it took to push you overboard. the endorphins rush over you like a tsunami as you try to ride out the wave of your orgasm.

spencer doesn’t stop his motions and continues to work your overly sensitive clit, gripping your legs tighter to him as he prevents you from escaping.

“shit, oh god baby, you need to st—stop.” you brokenly moan out. you tug on his hair hard as you try to release his grip on you, and after a few minutes he takes pity and lets you go.

you let out a big and tired sigh as you flop to the side of him, one leg still draped over him as you’re both panting heavily, attempting to come down from the heat of the moment.

he smoothes out the leg over him with his hand and turns to face you, face plastered with a stupid grin and glistening with you.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

you scoff breathlessly, “i think maybe you’re trying to kill me.”

“maybe,” he laughs, “ but you liked it right?”

you nod bashfully, “did you…like it?”

his eyes widen, “are you kidding? you looked so hot it drove me insane. you’re always so beautiful but having you like that…i like making you feel good, it makes me feel really good, and that is a win-win.”

you smile at him and move closer to fit under his arm and into his side, your hand resting on his chest. he tightens his arm around you and whisper, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you say through hooded eyes. your hand starts trailing lower, “must have been really good for you seeing how painful this looks.” you softly say, gesturing to the aching bulge in his boxers, the dark patch stained by precum.

his breath hitches as you inch closer, “baby, no it’s okay. you don’t have to do th—“ the sentence gets cut off when your hand gives him a tentative squeeze.

“i don’t have to, but i want to. i should thank you somehow for making me feel so good,” your voice dropping an octave in lust, “will you let me show my thanks, honey?”

you stare at him with the sultriest doe eyes he’s ever seen, and he’s thoroughly convinced in that moment that you are, in fact, trying to kill him.

still a great way to go out, he thinks.

[fingertipsmp3]

Not to be all ‘I know better than a medical professional’ or anything, but I do think the people at Mabel’s vet are kind of useless

[ozzgin]

OZZGIN!

May I request an idea/imagine?

It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!

Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3

Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)

I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!

Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader

Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.

Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct

You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.

The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.

What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.

“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”

Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.

He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.

[juniperstale]

kiss me hard before you go — gojo, itadori, nobara, megumi

⋆ in which you have to leave for a long mission without them [ . . . gn!reader, sfw, lowercase intended, fluff, ig some really light angst, the context really does not match the dialogue, daily clicks . . . ]

SATORU GOJO is anything but reasonable when it comes to you. what do the higher ups mean when they say you're the only one capable to complete the job? he's the strongest. it doesn't matter what the enemy wields, he will always win. so why can't he go with you? or instead of you (the answer is that it's a compromised mission and he's a major blabber mouth).

so here he is, at the airport with you, seconds before you turn around and leave him for what he feels is forever. he whines and pleads for you to fake an illness, or an injury, or anything that gets you out of this mission. and yet, you only give him a kiss, whispering comforting affirmations before telling him you'd call everyday and taking a step away from him. well, attempting. satoru's hand grabbed you almost immediately, pulling you into the last embrace the two of you would share for a while, his breath a little shaky. he was genuinely worried for you. he was always worried for you.

"come back in one piece?" "why? the more pieces of me, the merrier, no?" "you're not funny." "you're a hater."

YUJI ITADORI finds you oh so cool. you're his brave, strong partner who can take on difficult missions without breaking a sweat. he brags to anyone, whether they listen or not, about you. it doesn't help that you're absolutely gorgeous too; your hair, eyes, nose, but your strength!? the way you're so capable!? the way you can protect him!? you made him feel safe, something he didn't know he craved until he got it, from you.

unfortunately, it was harder when he actually had to let you go. you slipped out of his grasp in the middle of the night, effectively waking him up. he was confused for a second before you walked in from the bathroom, your pajamas folded in you hands as you had your airport outfit on.

"why're you up, sweetie?" you asked, walking over to his side of the bed before sitting down on the edge of it. "you're leaving now?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. "mhm, ijichi is getting the car ready, you should go back to sleep though, you have class in a few hours." you respond, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing up when you hear ijichi honk from outside, signaling he was ready to go. yuji grabs your wrist before you can go far, forcing you back close to him, pulling you into a quick hug, then a kiss, then pulling away and looking at you with a crazy determined look on his face.

"you got this!" "i know!" "good!" "good!" "be safe, i love you!" "i will and i know!" "good!" "good!"

NOBARA KUGISAKI doesn't care. i mean, she's proud of you, she really is but it doesn't bother her when you have to leave for a long period of time. i mean, why would she worry. you never come back injured that badly, sometime your not even injured at all. plus, you always come back. but what if you do get injured this time? badly? or worse, what if you don't come back.

now there's an angry nobara in your room, interrogating you as you pack some final things into your carry on. when were you set to come back? what was the mission about? what type of enemies would you be fighting? what grade?

she's cut off when you sit next to her, placing a kiss on her lip which she doesn't hesitate to return, pulling you in closer. your forced to pull away for her when the alarm on your phone goes off, reminding you that it was time for you to leave.

"i'll be fine nobara, i promise." "i'll kill you if you're not!"

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO acts like he could care less, but inside he's panicking. a lot. he doesn't know how to confront you about his fears of losing you. his fear that you would get injured. his fear that you forget about him. his fear that you would leave, like everyone else did.

so, he coped with it the only way he knew how. he, cautiously, packed you bags for you. the exact amount of clothes you need, pair of shoes for each type of weather, you camera that you took everywhere and bandages. lots and lots of bandages.

deep down, he knows its insane. he knows you'll be fine, you always are and always will be.

when you walk into your room and notice his antics, you sit down beside him, rubbing his back gently. though you don't often show it, you know the feeling well. your boyfriend is a maniac when it comes to proving his self worth and that often leaves him injured in shoko's office, leaving you to wonder about the state he could possibly be in. you don't dare speak when he relaxes into your touch, only going as far as to scoot closer to him so you could pamper his face with adoring kisses until he speaks.

"you're going to be fine" "of course" "you're going to come back to me" "of course" "your going to use the bandages i packed for you even on the smallest injuries like a paper cut" "megumi are you casting a spell on me?"

8.15.24 ⋆ ...so i've been gone for a while and this is my first time writing for jjk... so what? i will blame it on the fact that i have a job though and start school again in a few weeks 💔anyways this isn't really proofread, i rushed to get it out and it was supposed to have other characters like nanami, maki, inumaki and yuta in it so lmk if you want a part 2 hehe

[onlyangel4]

pushed too hard. mv1. SMAU + written.

max verstappen x chronically ill! reader

in which max's girlfriend has a very valid reason for not attending the races but the public doesn't know. and when the hate gets too much she pushes herself too hard.

author's note: so i have written this completely from experience, so the reader has elhers danlos syndrome (which i also have) but if you suffer from a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that.

warnings: chronic illness. hate. hospitalisation. injury.

face claim: katie douglas

y/ninsta posted a story tagging maxverstappen

written: y/sister managed to get a picture of me as soon as i woke up to find out that max won the bahrain gp with a twenty second lead. i am such a proud girlfriend rn.

maxverstappen replied to your story: good you are awake i'll facetime you rn. i miss you and the cats.

user1 replied to your story: if you really were a good girlfriend you would have been there supporting him

maxfan: you are such a bad wag you didn't even stay up to watch the race.

you had woken up on a high. you had turned your phone on to see all the messages informing you of your boyfriend's impressive win and you had even managed to facetime max before he went to bed. it felt like a good day. but then you made the mistake of opening social media. people on twitter were doing what people on twitter do best, talk shit. your eyes scanned over the screen as for the millionth time people picked apart your relationship and called you every name under the sun. they saw you as a villain that just did not support her boyfriend and that could not be further from the truth.

if you could attend every race you would but that just was not plausible. you suffered from elhers danlos syndrome and on top of that you had chronic fatigue. the elhers danlos effected your joints making every day painful to some degree. yes there were good and bad days but there were never pain free days. both of your knees had been operated on and you were awaiting surgery on your ankle due to frequent dislocations. the simple description of elhers danlos is that you had fault collagen, this collagen is what makes your connective tissue so your connective tissue was faulty and therefore your joints had a habit of dislocating and causing you a hell of a lot of pain. it was a domino effect the constant pain that you were in made you incredibly tired and that is where the chronic fatigue came in. max often called you his sleepy girl because you needed at least one nap per day to function properly.

you knew the problems you were having with max's fans could be solved by you telling them what you suffered with medically but they did not deserve an explanation from you. you should be allowed to live your life how you want to without thousands of strangers telling you that you were doing it wrong or that you were a bad girlfriend. you wanted to keep your medical issues private and max completely understood and supported your decision to do so. so instead you had to deal with all the hate. you just had to remind yourself that these people did not know the real you and if they did they, hopefully, would not treat you like this.

y/sister posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: y/n finally left the house for the first time in five days and it was just for a snack run.

maxverstappen replied: is she having a bad week, she only eats reese's when she is a lot of pain

y/sister: i didn't tell you this but she is not doing well at all, she slept all of yesterday and then today the internet hates her because she wasn't at the race.

as the saudi arabian gp came and went max was busy with stragety meetings and such this meant that instead of coming home for a few days like he had previously planned he stayed out there and was going to go straight from there to australia and at this point you were really missing your boyfriend. the hate had not subsided either. it was just a very difficult time for you. one night where you had just been scrolling through twitter reading through the cruel things that people had been saying about you, you hit your limit. there was no way that you could deal with this for the rest of the season. so insteadyou decided to do something about it.

the morning you needed to fly to australia was when you realised that this was a bad idea. you had woken up in enough pain to down a horse, joints aching and head spinning. but danny had pulled strings for you. he had arranged everything just so that you could surprise your boyfriend and there was no way you were going to cancel when the plan was already in motion. so instead you just grinned and bared it. the flight was okay, luckily daniel had booked you a first class seat.. but sleep was hard to come by due to your body not being used to sleeping while being in flight. you were already tired when you landed in australia. due to the lack of notice the only flight daniel could arrange got in late on the saturday night. so you had booked a hotel next to the airport and arranged for a car to pick you up in the morning.

it had been so fucking hot in your hotel room and that meant that sleep was incredibly difficult to find. you tossed and turned all night only getting five hours of low quality sleep. in the morning you had pulled on a comfortable outfit and made your way out to the car that daniel had arranged for you.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: fit check

f1wags

liked by user30, user31, user32 and 89,172 others

f1wags: y/n y/ln has arrived to her first ever grand prix. y/n has been dating max verstappen for 18 months and had never been to a race before. but today that changes. she is not dressed in usual wag attire instead in an oversized shirt and bike shorts with a red bull cap. she may not be dressed like the others but we are happy to see her in the paddock

view all 628 comments

user30: we wait for her to show up and she comes wearing that. what an awful wag

user31: go on girl. give us nothing.

user32: i'm actually so happy she is here. i love y/n and have never understood the hate i think she is the cutest

the red bull garage was incredibly easy to spot. your eyes found danny loitering outside having a meaningless conversation with your boyfriend, "i got you a present mate. as it is my home gp i decided to spoil you", danny spoke and max raised an eyebrow.

"whatever it is i am sure that i don't want it", max responded

"i wouldn't be so sure", you cut in and max turned around instantly at the sound of your voice a wide smile gracing his features.

"oh my god, y/n", he spoke as his arms engulfed you in a tight hug. "what are you doing here love?"

"i wanted to surprise you"

"well consider me surprised"

you laughed softly as you followed your boyfriend into the red bull garage he gave you a tour of the garage and you followed him clinging onto his arm. he was used to having to hold you up so leaning on him did relieve your aching joints. max knew all about your medical issues he had helped you with them for over a year. he knew that coming to australia was pushing your body past its limits so every so often he made sure to check in on you. make sure that you sat for a little bit before interacting with the rest of the team. however when he left to go and race there was no longer anyone in the garage that knew about your medical issues. and this is what led to you being stood all of the race. stragestists and other people who you gathered were important to the team took the seats, while you stood towards the back of the garage.

it was around lap twenty when your left ankle began to properly hurt and your eyes felt heavy. a clear indicator of fatigue and your body telling you that you needed to rest. but your boyfriend was racing so well and you wanted to be able to watch him. the race continued for a few more laps however just as max started the thirty first lap your ankle gave way, dislocating from the strain of you being stood on it when it was already under pressure. you crumpled onto the floor a yelp leaving your lips as you fell but you were unable to put your hands out to soften your fall so you ended up hitting your head on the hard ground. this was enough to knock you out. first aiders ran over and called the ambulance into the paddock but you next regained consciousness inside the ambulance, on the way to hospital. alone.

f1updates

liked by user35, user36, user37 and 54,092 others

f1updates: as the drivers go into the 4oth lap of the australian gp an ambulance was spotted leaving the paddock with full lights. sources say the ambulance was parked outside of the red bull garage, but no one knows who was inside of it when it left the paddock

view all 554 comments

user35: the stress finally got to horner

user36: shit i hope whoever it is is okay

user37: the red bull garage do look rather stressed

"well done max you have just won the australian grand prix", christian had called over the radio. he felt guilt twinge at him. his girlfriend had been rushed to the hospital thirty laps ago but christian had made the decision to not tell max until the end of the race. he knew that the dutch driver was going to be mad when he heard the news. christian decided he needed someone else to tell max what had happened. "daniel can you come find me as soon as you are out of the car", he had intercepted the racing bulls radio just to give daniel the message, christian knew it would be better to have bad news coming from him rather than himself.

"thirty fucking laps ago", max spoke pacing back and forth in front of one of his closest friends. "you are trying to tell me my girlfriend had an ambulance called on her thirty laps ago and no one told me. she is in a foreign hospital. alone and probably scared shitless", max ranted to danny.

"i know man, christian just asked me to tell you. we can go to the hospital after the podium ceremony"

"oh fuck that i'm going now"

"you aren't driving", daniel knew better than to argue with max in that moment. yes christian would be pissed to find out that max was skipping the podium ceremony but daniel was not going to stop him from leaving. instead the two man snuck out the back of the paddock and to danny's car. the two racecar drivers got to the hospital in record speed with max running up to the front desk asking the nurse where he could find you. he was ushered through the hospital to a ward.

you were sat in a private ward you ankle elevated, an ice pack on your head and fluid iv in your arm. "max. you won.", you spoke softly. you had the television on and the grand prix on, you had just watched footage of a frantic christian looking for the driver that was now in your room.

"that does no matter my love, what happened?"

"i just pushed myself too far max. i forced myself to stand the whole time and my ankle dislocated, the doctors want to operate on it soon. and when i fell i gave myself a nasty concussion", you explained and the look on max's face could only be described as broken.

"oh my love", he spoke softly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"i just didn't want the fans to think i was a bad girlfriend. that you deserve more than me", you spoke quietly, "they all hate me because i can't go to races", you spoke tears forming in your eyes but max's thumb quickly wiped them away.

"they don't hate you. they just don't know you honey."

"we should put out a statement, tell them what has been going on with me"

"you just read my mind my love"

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, daniel ricciardo and 830,121 others

tagged maxverstappen

y/ninsta: a long awaited health update. after a week in hospital i am now finally back home from australia. i am expected to have surgery on my ankle in the next couple of weeks. and i am on a strict diet of hourly lollipops because my blood sugar was low. i just wanted to say a massive thank you to max who literally ditched his own podium ceremony (sorry christian) to be with me. i am so incredibly lucky to have you and i love you with all of my heart, even if i am pissing you off while i'm on bedrest.

view all 28,001 comments

maxverstappen: you could never annoy me

y/ninsta: even when i try to walk when i'm not supposed to

maxverstappen: y/n sit tf down

danielricciardo: so glad to hear you are doing better

y/insta: thank you for bringing me take out every day i was in australia

user40: the world owes this girl an apology. you all bitching and moaning about her not being present just to find out that she has a chronic illness. some of you should be really embarrassed rn

[thragedys]

Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright. 

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.” 

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time. 

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match. 

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him. 

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not. 

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view. 

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise. 

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you. 

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.” 

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

[waitingforlostsouls]

Every time I explain I have Long Covid, people are like, 'So, you never got over having covid? So you're going to have a cold forever?'

And I get when we were in the pandemic, we all developed anxiety so severe we were afraid to touch our produce from the grocery store without wiping it down first. But the idea of Covid as "just a cold" is not the full story. That's mostly something that got pushed from people who didn't understand it, and as shorthand to explain the warning symptoms to people. Long Covid is not a cold. If I get one more person talking down to me about how I'll feel better if I just take a Vitamin C capsule every morning, I will riot.

Long Covid is currently not curable. It's manageable in the right circumstances. But there is currently no pill or therapy that is a cure for Long Covid. That includes lifestyle habits too. Maybe drinking a smoothie made out of half the vegetable aisle will be good for you, but it won't fix you magically. Please stop suggesting therapies to people. You're not their doctor, and all you're going to do is exasperate them. Worst case scenario, you put someone through another cycle of grief after they try it, and it doesn't work for them.

Why is that the case? Because Long Covid is highly complicated. Most doctors will acknowledge we don't know the half of it, as far as the complete effects. Long Covid, in short, is a very confusing amalgamation of the after-effects of getting Covid in the first place. Many experts have compared it to HIV in the way it continues to affect your body. That's why Long Covid is officially known as "Post-Acute Sequelae of SARS-CoV-2 Infection." Sequelae refers to the long-term or permanent effects aspect of it. It's a highly complicated thing that would most likely not be easily cured. Just like how someone recovered from severe Tuberculosis might still have issues with their lungs, people with Long Covid have to deal with the aftermath of Covid throughout their bodies.

Please stop trying to tell me, and people like me that it will just heal itself eventually. You're only frustrating people who've been dismissed so much already. Parts of it may get better with time, but the complete effect on your body is devastating and traumatic. Saying things like 'Well I did x,y, and z, and I feel totally better!' That's great, good for you. That doesn't mean it's going to work for everyone, let alone most people. Understand that it's a confusing illness. And please, for heavens sake, stop asking people 'So when are you going to get better?' We don't know. That's the point.

[etherealkissed88]

assume it done now, not in the future . • °

never wait or forget to assume u are ALREADY the desired version of urself in the NOW. dont think/assume: "ill buy this AFTER i manifest $1000" or "they would be crushing on me WHEN i get my glow up".

dont forget that the goal is to assume it NOW.

there is only the present and your job is to always claim your desire as done in the NOW.

DO NOT think/visualize from (embody/assume) the state of “waiting” for it!

DO NOT identify w the version of you who is not already experiencing it!

when you think about a desire, immediately see the world/think as the one who has it already. if not, (if you immediately think of it as the person who is waiting for it), dont stress, just shift into the state/embody the one who has it NOW. you manifest who you choose to be so thoughts never matter because they are part of the 3d, therefore they are always neutral. there is only the present so if you thought “im waiting until i get my sp to do this” 5 seconds ago, it doesnt matter because your job is to be the one who has it NOW. if you think about that thought you had 5 seconds ago, you are thinking about it in the NOW. there is only the NOW/the PRESENT. focus on getting into the state of having it already in the present moment. dont focus on what you thought of / assumed in the “past” because it has no effect on you unless you assume it does.

you are not making a mental list of things you want to manifest for the future, you are checking off the list the MOMENT you make the list!

do not be in the state of waiting for it. waiting for what when the only source of power is you? fulfill yourself the moment you want it. now you no longer want it, now you have/are it!

YOU DESIRE YOUR IDEAL BODY (as an example)

you go to the store and assume “when i get my ideal body, i will fit in all these clothes”

you stop and realize that by accepting / identifying with this assumption, you are voluntary being in the state of not having your ideal body yet and therefore, waiting for it.

since youre educated on the law now, you know that your job is to assume/know its done now! so you decide not to accept that previous assumption that implied youre waiting. you instead decide to shift into the mindset of person who already has their desired body.

what would they think? what would they do? how would they act? how would people treat them? how would they see the world? BE that person in IMAGINATION. visualize, affirm, do inner convos, use whatever technique you want to experience it in imagination. do it to satisfy yourself without worrying about the 3d. remove the 3d from the equation and focus on feeling good as you experience having your desire.

you imagine doing exactly what you wanted: buying pretty clothes from the store because you already have your desired body; feeling confident and free in your body and having fun trying out clothes and paying for them. once you are satisfied from imagining yourself confidently buying your perfect clothes to match your perfect body, you walk out of the store satisfied because you know you already have your desired body since you just experienced it and fulfilled yourself.

you didnt need to buy clothes in the 3d, you didnt need to physically walk in the store with confidence. you dont need to take any action in the 3d. you just need to know its done and fulfilled in imagination. once you are fulfilled, you will notice that nothing in the 3d matters because you really do feel that its done.

later on, you continue to embody the version of you who has that desired body. you imagine walking in school with those pretty clothes on your perfect body while your friends compliment you; this makes you feel confident in your body. you continue to be satisfied with this feeling, with this knowing.

make it yours instantly. assume it done NOW! manifestation is not a process, its a choice. you always choose to BE some version of you in the now. if you are waiting, its simply because you are being the version of you who is waiting. notice how you are always BEING a version of you? so assume it NOW, not in the future. there is no time like the PRESENT.

kisses, jani𖥔