#Acne Machine

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

BOSS FIGHT!

[whatisflorencewearing]

Time Machine: December 28, 2013 - Galveston

Here's a throwback to exactly ten years ago.

Back then, Florence celebrated the Holidays with her family in the States. She got some fresh air on the beach in, what's presumably, a @acnestudios Pre-Fall 2012 red wool coat with a detachable faux shearling collar.

[chipped-chimera]

So I am having an absolute dogshit morning in terms of my self esteem because I want to peel my stupid, hyperpigmented, acne-scarred skin off but I'm forcing myself to remember the positives so -

My arm muscles are starting to become more obvious + HINT OF BACK DEFINITION STARTING 👀

[fittopfactory-sandy]

Radio Frequency Treatment at Home

How does our skin age? Why does it become saggy over time? First, we need to understand two substances - collagen and elastin. Below the skin's surface, collagen and elastin support our epidermis, playing a crucial role in maintaining skin firmness.

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How to rescue aging skin?

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Radiofrequency provides different benefits for individuals at various age stages. For those in their twenties, radio frequency treatment can regulate skin texture, and tone, and address acne issues. In their thirties, as wrinkles become more pronounced, at-home radio frequency treatment can reduce wrinkles, lift and tighten the skin, improve skin dullness, and enhance facial contours.

Performing radiofrequency treatment at home

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[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React to You Pining for Them

Summary: POV Lads men wake up in your body, feeling your emotions. And the get to suffer MWAHAHAHAHHA

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: angst (only Zayne gets a pass)

AN: hmm I don't think I did the concept justice but I will return to it

(I do not own these characters + spoilers ahead)

Rafayel:

He has felt it every time. Every single time he brings up his pain, his years spent waiting for you, your abandonment of him, he sees the same pain flicker in your eyes.

Even when you remain unaware of the past, he sees it.

But for the first time, he feels it.

He does not know what timeline this is. Only that he watches himself lying on a bed, next to you.

Your hand, intertwined with his.

"Things will get difficult, and you may want to give up on me, Rafayel," your fingers ghost over his cheek. "Forgive me for bringing you into this trouble. For dragging you into my fate."

Words are not spoken aloud, yet he hears them ring in your mind.

"Forgive me," you whisper into the night. "What this love will cost us… might break your heart."

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his forehead.

And then, with a shaking breath, you utter the last of your fading words:

"Should the burden come to weigh on you… let go of this bond and return home."

Rafayel wakes to a thundering sky and rising tides, as if the world itself had shared the same dream.

Xavier:

He watches you stare into the sky.

"Return home, my liege," you whisper, fingers clutched tightly. "Your kingdom, your throne awaits you."

You fold your hands and pray to the stars. And Xavier feels it, the thrum of your power resonating through his heart.

Then, your hand tightens around your sword.

"You should not have bothered, my prince." Your voice is steady, but beneath it lies something fragile. "It was my fate to become the fuel for this world. You should have let fate play its part."

Somehow, you already know the secret he has desperately hidden from you.

"They say the only way to make this right is by giving away what always belonged to the world." Your hand rests over your heart. "Would it bring you back?"

Xavier reels at your thoughts.

"No!" he screams, the sound swallowed by the void. "You must not! There has to be another way!"

But you do not hear him.

You gaze into the mirror, addressing no one and yet, somehow, addressing him.

"If this is a farewell, then it is a poor one, my liege."

Then, finally, your voice softens.

"I hope this brings you back, my prince." You speak to him directly now. "Wherever you are, I hope this end grants me the wish to have you return to Philos."

Zayne:

"He never eats on time!"

The thought rings out loud, startling Zayne.

He watches you march toward him, and takes a moment to process where he is.

Pale. Tired. Are those acne? Has he really been living off vending machine junk?

A rapid-fire string of thoughts follows.

He hears your frustration, your worry, and then he sees it.

The other Zayne, a version of himself, is yanked away from his desk by you.

Were you always this perceptive? How had he never noticed the concern in your eyes?

"Treat me to a second breakfast."

The command is uncompromising. He watches as you march toward his car, not even waiting for a response.

And he sees himself follow.

Or rather, being dragged.

Then, in the rumbling car, he watches as you drive.

And just as you turn to check on him, he sees himself, fast asleep.

With a maneuver that seems life-threatening, you somehow manage to pull a blanket over him, while still driving.

"Foreseer my ass," you scoff.

Your words leave him scrambling before he can even realize them, jolting him awake.

He blinks, now fully alert, staring straight at you. Back in his body.

Sylus:

Despair. Guilt. Unrelenting heartache.

He sees himself fallen at your feet.

And then, he sees your fall.

On your knees, you pull him close, holding him tight, and for the first time, he feels the weight of your helplessness.

"There is no forgiveness," you whisper.

And he realizes—you are alone.

That back then, in that abyss of loss, you were always alone. Unlike him, you never had the hope of return.

Bearing the burden of right and wrong, you were alone in your doom.

He buckles under the weight of it. This grief, he knows it well. He has felt a fragment of it.

But even then, he had known you would return.

But you?

For you, there was nothing.

Nothing but the void of loss.

"It will be alright," he whispers, but his voice is frail, failing to comfort you.

"I will return to you. I am not cross with you. I still love you." He repeats until all but the echo of his voice remains.

Caleb:

He wakes to fire.

The burning home.

The one that became both nightmare and reality.

Flames devour everything, the heat suffocating, the smoke curling into the sky.

Then, he sees you.

You scrape against the concrete, pulling yourself forward when your body refuses to move.

Your fingers tighten around his locket, and he feels the stab of pain pierce your heart.

"Caleb!" you call weakly, voice cracking, gathering what little strength you have left to scream louder.

You drag yourself forward, until your arms give out.

He sees your skin peeling against the jagged ground. Your blistered nail beds. The blood seeping from fingers that have already lost their nails beneath the heat and debris.

Yet, you keep moving.

"Stop!" he wants to scream. He wills himself to close his eyes, to escape this vision, but it grips him, holds him hostage.

And in this moment of agony, he wants to stop you, wants to pull you away from the fire, but he fails.

He is nothing more than a spectator to your desperate cries.

To your pleas for him and Grandma.

"I am sorry," he begs.

He had let you suffer alone in hopeless grief, had left you to rot in sorrow.

And perhaps this vision, this endless, searing nightmare, was his penance.

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | waves

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: i start each and every thing i write with no ideas and no plans and i think with this one you can kind of tell lol. enjoy my writing slop!

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, language, age-gap relationship, medical inaccuracies lol

< part 3 | part 5 >

In the wake of your conversation, Jack doesn't know how to feel. Ok - scratch that - he's feeling a tornado of emotions. It's just that he doesn't know which one is the right one.

The biggest one? Disbelief. Disbelief about, well, kind of everything. Not once in a million years did he think that he would find himself in this situation. Maybe his head isn't quite wrapped around it yet, but he's stuck in a strange clinical, detatched headspace as he mentally compiles questions, things to do, and conversations to have.

He also feels the weight of guilt sitting on his chest. He did this, it's his fault, and now you're stuck with the consequences of his actions. You're a young, bright girl, who definitely didn't have this in her 5 year plan. And he's just appeared out of nowhere to you and thrown this wrench in your life.

He feels overwhelmed and scared and shocked and stupid and, if he's being real with himself, excited. And then maybe guilty for being excited?

Jack is not attempting to big into the tangled ball of emotions in his head, and focusing on what he can control.

'Emotions are like waves,' he thinks to himself, thanking his therapist, 'they come and they go, they are not constant,'

So, back to the things he can control, unlike his unruly thoughts.

He makes an appointment for you with an OBG-YN. Well he tries to, but the questions that the online appointment request form asks reminds him just how little he actually knows about you. He learns that you are allergic to bees, take topical medication for acne, and take anxiety medication as needed.

"Just for plane rides," you tell him with a laugh.

The OB does not work at PTMC. And has no connection to the hospital.

Jack picks you up in his truck and tells you what to expect from the appointment.

"It's not on my stomach?" you ask with a scared expression.

Jack chuckles, "No, unfortunately not. Right now it's too small to see that way, so it has to get closer."

"Closer being all the way up in my business?" you clarify.

Jack nods.

You shiver. "Fine, whatever," you say, determined not to think about it until it's happening.

Your OB (in network, you checked after Jack took the initiative to find one) is a nice lady who seems to be good at her job. She has a bright disposition and a polite yet detached warmth to her. She asks about your health history, recent travel, and a bunch of other things before excusing herself and saying that she would see you again soon.

A nurse comes in to take your blood, and shortly after, an ultrasound technician enters your exam room with her machine pushed in front of her.

You throw your head over to Jack, on the other side of you from the door, and stare at him with wide eyes.

"It'll be fine, honey, promise," he says through a giggle at your expression, grabbing your hand in his and caressing it reassuringly.

The very nice ultrasound tech does her business and while it wasn't fun, just a touch uncomfortable, and wishes you well as you're all done. You're handed a stack of images that you can't make heads or tails of.

"No heartbeat moment?" you ask Jack with a pout as you're walking back to the check-in desk, slipping the images into your pures.

"No," he sighs, "not typically until its a little bigger." he explains.

"Boring," you gripe.

You pay your co-pay (slapping away Jack's hand as he pulls out his wallet) and make another appointment for 6 weeks later.

Sitting back in the passenger seat of Jack's truck, you pull back out the images and flip through them.

They all look about the same, but the second to last one has some text written on it in white.

"Hi mom and dad!" it says.

You burst into tears before you're even done reading it.

"What?!" Jack asks, trying to both look at you and keep his eyes on the road.

"What, what?!" he yells, panic growing in his voice.

"It- it says," you sob, "it says hi," you are cut off by a hiccup, "hi mom and dad,"

"Oh god," Jack says to himself, running a hand down his face.

"Sorry," you cry, embarrassed.

"No, don't, you're okay." Jack consoles.

"Fucking embarrassing," you mumble as you wipe under your eyes.

"Be nice," Jack urges gently.

He pulls up to the curb in front of your apartment and turns in his seat to look at you.

"I'm sorry I have to go to work, now." he tells you. "I feel like I should stay."

"No, that's okay, Jack. I'm okay, I promise." you assure.

"Okay," he agrees. "Two, please." he requests, gesturing to the images in your hands.

You hand over a blank one and the "Hi mom and dad!" one.

He holds one in each hand and looks down at them with a blank expression.

"Okay," you say after a moment of observing him. "I'll see you later."

"Bye," he says, watching you hop down from his truck. "Text me!" he calls after you as you walk away. He watches as you climb the stairs and enter your apartment. Returning to his hands, he looks again for a number of moments.

'Emotions are like waves,' he reminds himself, putting the images into his cupholder and shifting into drive, ready to go home and don his scrubs for another night in the ED.

One picture ends up under a magnet on his fridge, and one, the one with the message, ends up in his wallet.

He finds himself opening his wallet and glancing at it several times throughout the night, pulling it out to run a finger softly over the glossy paper.

He's distracted, but not in the moments that matter. A consummate professional with his patients, but every moment that isn't filled with movement and imminent decision making is instead filled with thoughts of you and it. It being, well, it. Not even in his head is he filling that space with another word yet.

He takes measured steps up to the roof as his shift comes to an end, but not stepping past the barrier there. He leans against it, picture in his hands, and watches the morning sun inch higher in the sky.

"Well," a voice greets from behing him. Robby. "Good morning." he greets, coming to a stop as the other man leans against the railing next to him.

"Morning," he greets. He continues looking at the horizon as he feels Robby's gaze on his face.

'Whatcha got there?" he asks, gesturing to his hand.

Jack holds out the sonogram, still not peeling his eyes from the brightening cityscape.

Robby takes it out of his hands, pulling on his reading glasses and inspecting it.

He gives a low whistle.

"Mom and dad," he murmurs.

"How's mom?" Robby asks.

"She's fine. Nauseous, but fine." Jack says.

Robby clears his throat, pulling off his glasses.

"And how's dad?" he asks.

Jack takes a while to respond.

"I'm fine, too."

"Sure you are," Robby says placatingly. He claps Jack on the back. "Go home, man, get some sleep." he urges.

"Alright," Jack agrees and watches Robby walk back through the doorway to the roof. He watches the sun, higher in the sky now, for a few minutes more before slipping back downstairs and out of the ED.

tagging @michasia24 (thank u for the love) and lmk if you want a tag too!

[reallifepotato]

Idk what happened man I just ordered so many things online

[happy74827]

One Call Away

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: During one of his "jobs," Deadpool gets a call from his favorite gal [GIF Creds: jdsheart]

WC: 1970

Category: Fluff, Major Comedy {TW: Deadpool’s Humor/Nonfiltered Personality}

This man is so hard to write. I’m always stressing the noggin when it comes to planning and plotting 😔

『••✎••』

"And away we go..."

One neck crack and a couple of hip twists later, he was off like Aladdin and his fucktoy carpet, scaling the building similarly to a chameleon on LSD.

The only thing that was missing was some epic music.

He'd been chasing this baddie around the city for almost two days now. Some big-shot mob boss with ties to Hydra, or the Mafia, or the Yakuza, or some other three-letter-acronym organization. It was hard to keep track of them all at this point. They were all the same, except for the name.

They all had their own agenda.

Kill him, keep him prisoner, pay him off...

Wade never cared enough to listen because it was always the same. He just got hired to do the dirty work, and the pay was good.

The killing was better.

This one, however, was particularly good at eluding him. He'd been trying to get his hands on this man for a few days now. It wasn't as though he was trying to be stealthy or anything, either. He'd walked right up to his front door, knocked, and was greeted with a spray of machine gun bullets.

So, the usual.

But then the guy ran and didn't stop. It was like the fucking Roadrunner met Sonic the Hedgehog, and they decided to fuck around and find out.

Wade was getting real sick and tired of being a Roadrunner, too. He had a reputation to uphold. He wasn't known as the Merc with the Mouth for nothing. He was supposed to be the one doing the running and the killing.

Not the other way around.

Finally, finally, he managed to reach the roof where the guy was currently taking cover behind a small brick shack. The sun was rising, but it was still dark, and there were a couple of floodlights shining on the rooftop. It made him think of the night he'd had that heart-to-heart with Blind Al, even though all she really wanted was for him to bring her some of that special brownie mix.

What a night that had been.

But anyway, this monologue is starting to get too long, and we should probably move things along, eh?

Right.

So, the baddie.

His name was something long and non-English.

Salvatore, or Santino, or Salvation... Whatever the fuck it was, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that it was time to make him dead.

He stepped around the corner and was met with a spray of bullets, all of which lodged themselves into his Kevlar vest.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled over the sound of the gunfire. "This is real leather, you know. I'm tired of all the offscreen sewing and shit."

When the spray finally ended, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"…ow," he whispered to himself.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," the man said.

"Yeah, whatever," Deadpool replied. "Look, I'll make this easy for you. You drop down and give me fifty, and I'll let you keep that hideous mustache you're sporting."

The man's eyes widened in surprise.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Yes, yes it is," Deadpool assured him. "You got a squirrel living in it or something?"

"It's just a little bit of gray, you dick," the man argued. "What about you? What's with the mask? Are you hiding a mustache under there, too, or something? Maybe some acne scars?"

Deadpool shook his head and stepped forward, his guns drawn.

"Don't come any closer!"

"You know, this would be much more intimidating if you didn't look like a cartoon mouse."

"Stop it with the mustache!"

"Alright, alright," Deadpool said. "Enough with the mustache. But what is it about your hairline? I can't put my finger on it."

The man sighed in exasperation and pulled out his pistol, aiming it right at Deadpool's face.

"Hey now, don't point that at me," Deadpool scolded him. "That's not a very nice thing to do."

He ignored him and pulled the trigger, a loud boom ringing out as the bullet fired. It whizzed by him but missed its mark.

"You really are a dick," He grumbled before aiming his gun right between the man's eyes. And he was going to shoot, honest.

He really was.

But then his phone rang, and he was well-reminded of the current song playing through his head.

I'm a buff baby that can dance like a man. I can shake-ah my fanny, I can shake-ah my can!

Needless to say, he was distracted.

He lowered his gun and looked down at his pocket, where his phone was still ringing and still vibrating against his leg.

"Shit, hold that thought," He said to the guy, and he holstered his gun.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing?!"

Deadpool put his finger up to shush him before pulling his phone out of his pocket to answer it.

If you're an evil witch, I’ll punch you for fu—

"Heyyyy," he said in a sing-songy voice, "you've reached the phone sex hotline. For kinks and fetishes, press one. For booty calls, press two. For your favorite mercenary, press three."

"Ey, pendejo—" His opponent started, but he cut him off by snapping and raising his finger.

"Cut it, Tuco Salamanca. Breaking Bad called and wants its meth-cooking mustache back."

"Wha-I-you-"

"Anyways, this is your favorite merc speaking. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Is this a bad time?"

Wade's eyes widened in shock, and his jaw dropped open when he heard her voice on the other end of the line.

"Baby girl! Is that you? Oh, how I've missed your voice. It's like hearing an angel, or an angelic chorus, or a whole bunch of angels, but you're the most important one. Like, the lead singer or something."

"I literally saw you last night." Your voice was always drenched with the most amazing kind of sarcasm, and he'd missed it.

"And?"

"It's only been a few hours."

"And?"

"That's a short amount of time."

"And?"

You sighed, but he knew you weren't really annoyed.

"Anyways, you sounded busy," you continued, "so I'll just let you go."

"What?! No! Don't hang up!" He shouted into the receiver. "I've only fiddled with my pistols! Nothing interesting is happening right now!"

"Your pistols, huh?" You asked a hint of mischief in your voice.

"Well, yeah. They're the most important part of the mission, you know."

In the corner of his eye, he could see his target making his way towards the edge of the building. Quickly and efficiently, without dropping his attention from his conversation with you, he lifted his gun and fired a shot at the man's knee.

"Ah, fuck!" the man screamed in pain. "My knee!"

"Hey! Language!" Deadpool scolded him. "The lady of the house is listening!"

"Lady of the- what the fuck?!"

"I said language, you mustachioed rat!"

"Mustachioed rat?" You asked.

"Sorry, babe," he replied. "You know how excited I get when Downtown Abbey is on."

“There’s gunshots in Downtown Abbey?"

"Gunshots? Oh, no, no. That was… uh, a car alarm. Yeah, the neighbor's car alarm was going off."

"Uh-huh," you said, not sounding very convinced. And, of course, that was right around the time the guy's gun went off again, this time hitting him square in the shoulder. It made the phone fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground, but the call was still connected.

"Dammit!" He yelled, looking at the fresh blood dripping down his arm. "That's gonna take forever to heal!"

"Who are you talking to?" The man demanded, his gun still aimed at Deadpool's face. "You're working with someone?"

"Hey, now, I don't remember giving you permission to talk," Deadpool told him, holding his bloody arm up to his face. "Look, I've gotta call you back, babe. I know it's been so heartbreakingly long—"

"Again, only a few hours," you said.

"—but duty calls. Love you, bye."

"Love you, bye."

With that, the line disconnected.

"Ugh," he groaned, his heart aching for the loss of your sweet voice. "I miss her already."

"Ey," his opponent growled, drawing his attention. He started speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, which Deadpool didn't really understand, but he didn't have to. The guy was just ranting and raving.

"Alright, alright, chill," Deadpool said. "Just calm down. It’ll all be over soon, little buddy."

"I am not little! I am a giant!" The guy protested, and Wade could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. "And I will not chill!"

"Well, can't argue with that, I guess," Deadpool said with a shrug, and he took aim. But before he could pull the trigger, the guy was running again.

"Hey, what did I tell you about running?!" He yelled, but his voice fell on deaf ears as the guy reached the ledge.

"I am a giant!"

"No, you're a giant asshat!"

"I will not be bested by some masked buffoon!"

"Buff? Me? Why, I never!"

"You're the biggest asshole I've ever met!"

"You know what? I am a big ass! A big, round, bubbly ass." He paused for a second. "Hey, what's your favorite flavor?"

"Fuck you, you red-clad imbecile!"

"You know, I'd ask you out to dinner first, but we're kinda past that now."

"Argh!"

"Alright, enough stalling," Deadpool said. "It's time to end this."

"Yes," the guy said, turning his gun back on Deadpool. "It is."

Of course, Deadpool being the smart-ass he was, he'd already taken a step to the side. As the bullet whizzed past him, he reached for his gun.

"Now, where did I put that thing? Oh, there it is."

He aimed the gun and fired, and the man fell back onto the ground. The bullet hit him right in the middle of his forehead, his blood splattering all over the concrete.

"Ha ha! Fatality. Deadpool wins!" He said, his voice taking on the deep, grounded tone of the narrator from Mortal Kombat. "Flawless Victory."

He stood over the body for a few seconds, reveling in his victory, before he felt the presence of another.

The gun on his right side got ripped from its holster, and the barrel was aimed back into his face, as it always seems to be.

But, he already sensed it was coming, so his fingers wrapped around his other and aimed that right in the golden spot… and let’s just say, The Golden Girls was a little less golden and a lot more crimson.

"Wow, this has got to be a record," He said as he bent down to stare at the new one’s anguish. "Two dead ugly mustaches in the same day. You can call me Sweeney Todd because shit… I just shaved you the fuck up."

He didn’t give the poor bastard a chance to even whimper before he fired another two shots into the man's head. All in all, this had been the easiest payday he'd had in a while.

He picked up his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket before bending down and scooping up the mustache man's pistol.

"Ooh, lookie here, a nice, shiny new pistol," he said to himself. "Just what I've always wanted. Well, I don't actually need it. It's not like I have any other holes in my body, but you know what they say. The more the merrier."

He stuffed the gun in his holster and turned around, heading back the way he'd come.

"Time to get back to the good stuff," he said. "I have a date with my favorite girl."

He hopped up onto the ledge and looked down, his eyes locking on the window to his apartment.

And when he arrived, bloody and battered, you could only smile while holding up little ole Mary Puppins in all her drooling glory.

God, how he missed his girls.

[sombrashe]

period pains

includes 𐙚˙⋆.˚ vi, viktor, sevika

content 𐙚˙⋆.˚ gender neutral reader, chubby reader, your period is putting you through the ringer

note 𐙚˙⋆.˚ i started my period and have been suffering and all i want is to be pampered

Vi inexplicably started her period at the same time.

The only time growing up near the fissures has been a blessing and it's when she can hear your curses from the bathroom. She simply sat still on the sofa, barely spotting. Her eyebrows furrow as she watches the door handle. Once it starts jiggling she jumps up and bundles a blanket into her arms. Acting casually she medium speed turns and feigns surprise at you being in front of her.

"Wow, peach. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

You frown and shake a box at her, two loose tampons shake around. You needed tampons.

"Say please."

"No. You used them for your fucking nosebleeds. I told you only light but you just had to stuff your nose with my supers. How do they even fit up there."

Her face instantaneously falls as she clears her throat. Yeah, she definitely meant to replace those. Apologizing she immediately starts making her way towards the front door. Giving you a wide berth, she maintains eye contact the entire way. Narrowing your eyes, you watch in silent wrath as she grabs her jacket off the hook. Hurrying out the front door she doesn't come back until she's stopped and gotten you more than you need. Kicking open the door, it bounces off the doorstop and closes with a click behind her.

"P, peach?"

She straightens her back and tries to wave the lingering fear at the base of her neck. She watches you come around the corner, your gaze somehow angrier. You were able to shower in the time it took for her to shop which left you bleeding and alone. Walking towards her, you tear your eyes away slowly before settling them on the mini haul she got for you. Opening the bags she explains why she chose each item.

"So first, I got those tampons. I bought myself two packs of that nose stuffing that that academy student created. The one who always got into fights. I don't know how he didn't get kicked out. Next, I got you something from Jericho. You haven't eaten today. I also went to that shop you're always going to. The one that you buy all the face masks from. Yeah, I stopped there and got you one of each flavor. Watermelon said it helps with hydration. I also chose this banana one, good for dull skin. Not that you have dull skin. I think your skin looks great, just a little acne. Wait."

Your eyebrows soften as you listen to her go on. Once she pulls out those masks your face softens completely and you take a tentative step to your left. She continues on. You simply listen to her speak about the twenty or so masks she bought, you stopped counting after strawberry. Reaching forward you grab two masks at random and hand her one of them.

"Thank you."

She smiles a slings an arm over your shoulder. Her smile is wide as she gives you a sloppy temple kiss. You huff and shoulder yourself against her, her laugh infectious.

Viktor was always working.

You storm out, your moisturized hands clutching another ruined pair of underwear. Kicking out your leg, you make contact with the door frame. The noise echoes down the hallway and your partner peaks around the corner. Getting up from his desk, he makes his way towards you. His speed slows as he assesses your anger.

"Can you make a machine that tears my ovaries from my body?"

Poor thing. He closes the space between you and gently takes the blood-soaked underwear from your hands and mumbles to himself. Moving around the dorm he mixes and matches things until he throws them onto the bathroom curtain to dry. You watch him once again move around the kitchen. Washing hands, peeling fruit, boiling water. All steps in his plan of taking care of you. You curl into the armchair taking up a corner of the room. It was worn by nights fallen asleep in it waiting for Viktor to come home. Pulling a fluffy blanket over your lap you get comfortable as you wait. He comes over a little while later holding a plate out for you. Mangos and strawberries litter the place and you happily take the plate from him. Next is a cup of hot tea that he gently sets to the side of you. Thanking him ever so sweetly, you start munching on the fruit as he goes to retrieve more items. A warm water bottle is positioned against your lower back and you blink lazily as heat overtakes the pain. While finishing off the last of your fruit, you get to work sipping on your tea. He offers to spend time with you in the living room, but you shake your head.

"I'm getting tired, anyways. You can go back to work."

Giving him a tired smile he leans down and presses a loving kiss to the top of your head. Squeezing his bicep softly, you let him go with a yawn before settling down to the sounds of pencil against paper.

Sevika was never around when you needed her.

Tears break over your waterline and drip down the fullness of your cheeks. Cramps rack your body in pain as you stay curled on the couch. She never came home last night, council meetings taking over most of her time. A low groan is ripped from your throat as a particularly tight feeling squeezes your abdomen. Hugging a pillow close to your chest, you bury your face into it and hope that the pain reliever takes over soon. Not soon enough you feel your limbs relax as the pain slowly lessens until it finally stops. The sudden relief has your mind stuttering and it takes mere seconds before you're lulled into sleep.

"Rabbit?"

The low drawl of your girlfriend's voice wakes you from your hazy sleep. Blinking, you raise your head and look around. Your eyes land on her and you waste no time in rising to your feet. Letting the blanket fall halfway on the floor you gather yourself into her arm.

"I started."

You're muffled against her chest, feeling comfortable between the raised flesh. She clicks her tongue and soothes her hand down your back.

"You took something? Did you eat?"

You nod into her chest, you had a sandwich and that was more than enough with pain taking over most of the space in your stomach. Now you stand there stomach growling, pain having left to make room for your appetite to come crawling back. Looking up she gives you a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Go lay down, I'll make you something."

You squeeze her waist before pulling away and padding back onto the couch. Curling up, you take some more pain medicine and watch from your warm nest as she gets to work making you something hearty. You can feel yourself start to doze off and before long you're being shaken awake. Blinking you take in the bowl in her hands. Steam wafts in the air and the smell of meat and cream fills your nose. With a watering mouth, you thank her and greedily take the bowl from her. Wasting no time you gulp down some of the broth despite the insane burn that overtakes the grooves of your mouth.

[dizziesims]

Sims 3 Gameplay Mods

I was going through MTS looking for mods to improve my gameplay and thought I would share the ones I downloaded!

Livestreaming Mod - Allows your sims to livestream from a PC for tips, blog followers, and celebrity points.

More Pregnancy Interactions - Adds more options for the pregnant sim and more social interactions with all age groups!

Yoga Mod - Allows your sim to do yoga and also lead a yoga class for simoleons.

Laundromat Fix - Actually empties the laundry hamper on your sims home lot when using a washing machine at a laundromat.

Dirty Laundry Mod - Gives your sim a negative moodlet when dirty laundry hasn't been washed in a few days. Gives more incentive to do your sims laundry!

Layoff Mod - Gives your sim a 2% chance at the end of every work day of being laid off. Depending on their work level they may get unemployment benefits.

Nicer Vendors - Overrides the default animations when interacting with vendors, looks more friendly.

Acne Mod - Gives teens-adults a chance of waking up with acne. Adds washing face options and applying acne toner at sink.

Sunscreen - Allows you to buy sunscreen from the store, will protect sims from getting a sunburn with Seasons installed. Works on vampire sims as well.

Restaurant Host Career - Allows your sim to work part time at diners/bistros as a host. Only 1 career level.

TSM > TS3 Facial Expressions - Overrides most s3 facial expressions with the sims medieval ones making them a lot more realistic and natural looking.

One With Nature - Allows your sims to sleep outside on ground, wash themselves in bodies of water, and go to the bathroom outside. Needs Nraas traveler mod to work. (Good for apocalyptic gameplays/adding realism?? haha)

Walk Cycle Edits - Overrides original walk cycles so there's no forced smile, allowing your sims to make facial expressions based on mood/surroundings.

The Randomizer Mod - Triggers more random events that effect your household. Adds more realism and can effects the relationships/friendships your sims have. (Can choose between which random event modules you want in your game based on play style!)

More Negative Moodlets - Negative moodlets cause a greater effect on your sims mood making it a bit more realistic.

[bittersweet-jack-of-no-trades]

Stan and Ford, when they were young, reveled in being identical. It was an genetically gifted, built-in prank, an innate friend, a second half of the same heart and brain. They dressed the same, acted the same, even made sure they sounded the same. The days when even their father couldn't tell them apart were counted as a success--- the ultimate joke, and they were pulling it off every week. (their mother could always tell them apart. It was uncanny; her only real psychic ability.)

Then, around seven or eight, Stan broke his glasses. Mom and dad couldn't afford a new pair, so they stopped having the same face. It got harder for him to read without them, and he stopped getting as good of grades, and got moved from the advance reading group to the average reading group in class. Ford got a nice jacket for his birthday, and suddenly they stopped dressing alike. That was OK, Stan reasoned: they still sounded the same, and were the same height, and still got up to all sorts of high-jinks together.

In middle school, they got put in a few different classes, so they couldn't fool their teachers; they had the same lunch block, though, so the lunch lady never knew what hit her! And they had the Stan o' War to work on, so they always had about the same level of sunburn.

Then Ford started to join clubs without Stan. They got different jobs in high school, and Stan got slapped with an acne curse and a propensity to forget to do his laundry that led to them looking distinctly different. Ford met friends that didn't like Stan, and Stan met friends who called Ford a nerd and lame, and Stan didn't always have it in him to call them out.

It was alright, though--- they were still twins. Stan looked at Ford and didn't see his exact mirror image, but he still saw himself--- in the brows, the nose, the mischievous gleam in his eyes, their matching sea glass bracelets Stan made them when they were 11. Ford was still unmistakably his brother, Stan reassured himself; they would always be fun-house mirrors of each other, not perfectly symmetrical but with the same roots. He told himself that when they got called to the principal's office, he told himself that when Ford stopped working on the boat so he could work on his perpetual motion machine, he told himself that when Ford said he was going away to West Coast Tech, no if, and, or but about it. They were twins.

But when Stan called out to Ford from the sidewalk, duffel laying half-abandoned by his car, he saw no mirror, no brother, and certainly no twin. The man who stood in the window--- the man who turned away from Stan instead of helping him--- no, Stan didn't recognize that man at all.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Taking Care, Taking What's Mine - A "Play Nice" Commission

Summary: A Play Nice AU Chapter, in which, rather than taking the high road and trying to build a real relationship with the girl he's been sextorting for weeks, Tomura Shigaraki baby-traps her instead.

CW: Quirkless!AU, Dub-Con, Smut, Extortion, Baby-Trapping, Forced Pregnancy, Love-Bombing, Manipulation, Power Play, Possessive Shigaraki, Yandere Shigaraki, Morning Sickness, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

AO3 Link

A/N: Happy fucking Father's Day readers!! Lmao! I got this AMAZING commission a while ago to write an AU of my AU (a fanfic writer's dream come true honestly), of Shigaraki baby-trapping MC and well, while it took longer then I meant it to to come out, I'm so glad that I could post it on Father' Day of all days lmao.

Anyway though, this was so much fun to write. Shigaraki has been on the journey of bettering himself for so long in Play Nice now, it was a total blast returning to form and writing him nice and scummy again.

I'd love to do more of these honestly, so as a reminder: I give discounts on Commissions that take place in my AU's.

Play Nice, Burnt Bridges, Step by Step -- all of them. They're super fun for me to write and most of the heavy-lifting of ideating and plotting has already been done for them, so I'm happy to write fics like this for cheaper. :)

Anyway, enjoy some forced parentification on this day of dads. xD

“Hey, hey— are you alright?”

She lifted her head from where she’d been resting it against her gym locker, the coolness of the metal being the first thing to even remotely ease the headache she’d been fighting for the last three days. 

“Yeah, of course,” she tried to force a weak smile as Nejire approached her, clearly concerned, “Why do you ask?

The captain was dressed in her practice suit. And she quickly realized that so were all the other girls, most of them already making their way out the doors to the pool deck. She was the lone straggler who hadn’t even managed to undo her uniform tie yet. Nejire looked over at these girls, and then back to her, wordlessly demonstrating why that should be obvious.

She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head, “Okay, I guess I’m feeling a bit under the weather today…”

And that was the understatement of the century. She felt like absolute shit . Piling on top of that stubborn pounding in her head were a pair of really sore tits, a lethargy that stuck with her no matter how much vending machine coffee she chugged, and cramps that had shot straight out of hell and directly into her uterus.

But to be honest, she couldn’t complain too much about these ailments. In fact, she was pretty damn relieved. These were all her tell-tale signs of PMS. They were a little worse than usual this time around sure, but if that was the tradeoff for the relief of not being pregnant, she’d take it in a heartbeat. Her period was only one day late at this point and it had all but paralyzed her with fear.

Of course in retrospect, the fear did seem a bit silly. After all, Shigaraki’s creepy family doctor had warned her there might be some changes.

“I never start patients new to birth control immediately on a Long Acting Reversible Contraception,” he explained, “Especially not teenagers.”

“Why not?” she demanded, “It’s reversible, right? It’s not like you’re tying my tubes or anything.”

“No, but you never know how your body is going to react to the hormonal shift. You could develop acne, weight gain, hair growth—”

“I don’t care about that superficial stuff.”

“... Migraines, blood clots, depression,” he continued, looking at her pointedly.

She looked away, feeling a bit stupid for interrupting him now that he’d listed the more serious side-effects.

“I’m not saying you have to stay on the pill forever. But give it a few months, see how you feel on it. It can help us better determine which long-term birth control is best for your body without any unnecessarily invasive procedures.”

She shuddered at the very thought of being stuck in this set-up with Shigaraki for months. She hoped he’d get bored of her sooner rather than later.

Well, on the brightside, at least this sketchy-ass doctor seemed to be as interested in looking under her skirt as she was having him down there. However, this still left the ever so pertinent issue of:

“Okay, but there’s still the issue of getting the pills. No pharmacy is going to give me these without signed parental consent.” She had the always convenient Japanese purity culture to thank for that.

Ujiko simply smiled and pulled out a wheel of birth control pills from his medical bag right then and there.

“Consider these the same as this appointment,” he said, cupping his hands over hers and placing the wheel firmly into her palm, “ Off the record. ”

And then the rest of the “appointment” had descended into one of extremely thinly-veiled intimidation that bizarrely enough, she’d relied on Shigaraki of all people to save her from. By that point, she’d been scared so shitless she had very little argument left in her to try and reason him into just giving her the damn IUD.

The regret of not standing her ground on the issue did hit her later that night on the train home. Particularly when she thought over the fact that the way they were keeping these pills off the record was by having her pick up her refills through Shigaraki. The idea of giving him even more power over her like that made her feel sick to her stomach. And yes, while logically she knew that he had just as much motivation to keep her from getting pregnant as she did (she had a feeling All for One would not take too kindly to his star successor knocking up a lowly commoner such as herself), she still just had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

So she’d resolved herself on her first refill day to completely lay into Shigaraki for any level of tomfoolery he may get up to in this situation. There would be no forgetting, no being too busy to pick up the pills for her, absolutely nothing. She was ready to rain full fire and brimstone on him if there was even a hint of bullshit.

But to her surprise (and relief), she hadn’t even crossed the threshold of his bedroom before he was tossing a new pack to replace her wheel with. Simple and nonchalant, and then he was just as quick as always to badger her about getting her clothes off already, get on the bed already, break up with your boyfriend already.

It was the same old, same old — for better or for worse. Even if she couldn’t trust Tomura Shigaraki himself, that action had at least ensured that she could trust his own desire for self-preservation.

And that was better than nothing she supposed.

Back in the locker room, Nejire asked her, “Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She smiled at her friend, joking, “Nothing I don’t come down with every month.”

Nejire tilted her head in confusion for a moment before the lightbulb visibly lit up in her head.

“Ohhhhh,” Nejire nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, Aunt Flow can be a real meanie sometimes, huh?”

She laughed, then winced as the action worsened the throbbing in her head,  “Damn it— you can say that again.”

Nejire’s brows furrowed and she brought a hand to the small of her friend’s back, “Hey, why don’t you take this afternoon off?”

She looked back to her, surprised, “Oh no, I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could!” Nejire chirped, “And honestly, you probably should. We’re working on our weakest strokes today. I had you down to work on your fly.”

Visible dread filled her as she thought about doing that much undulation in her current state.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Nejire laughed, “Seriously, go home. We’ll miss you, but we love you too. So we want you to take care of yourself.”

She debated a little more internally, one other loose thread dropping into her mind’s eye.

“If I do… Do you mind—”

“I’ll let Mirio know,” she shot her a wink as she clarified, “ After practice. I’ll let him know you just need the peace and quiet.”

She smiled at Nejire, genuinely grateful. This. This right here was what made all of the bending over backwards she did to fit in and please others worth it. To be cared about by such a good person. 

The warmth of that care stayed with her all the way out to the school gates, where she was then immediately filled with dread upon realizing that she’d need to go in one of two directions depending on where she was going after school: the train station home, or the walk to Shigaraki’s.

And just which direction she was scheduled to go today.

She let out a long groan, anguished and loud enough to startle a couple members of the going home club that passed her. For once though, she didn’t care about her reputation, she was too focussed on what a goddamn nightmare she was falling into.

She pulled out her cellphone with a sigh. Yes she knew the effort was probably futile, but damn her if she didn’t at least try.

Yup. She could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. She sighed as she shoved her phone back into her bag and started the very slow trek over to Shigaraki’s. 

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Shigaraki said as he looked her over his doorway, “You look like shit.”

She shot him a wholly unimpressed look as she shoved past him into his bedroom.

“Yeah, I fucking told you.” 

Shigaraki, surprisingly, didn't have anything to say about her tone, even with her brusqueness towards him being more than usual. He just watched her drop down face first onto his bed and curl her legs up into her chest.

She sighed at the slight relief the position gave her. While dealing with Shigaraki’s antics was about the last thing she wanted right now, she supposed that at least she could be grateful for how much closer his apartment was to her school then her own home was. It saved her a good fifty-minutes of white-knuckling a train stanchion to keep down her groans of pain. Now at least she could get the relief of laying down much sooner.

If only for a little bit.

“What’s going on?”

She bristled at Shigaraki’s voice, the unwelcome reminder that she wasn’t going to be able to truly relax right now. And while there didn’t seem to be any entendre or even impatience in his question, the fact that his voice was getting closer to her was enough to make her suspicious.

“My head aches, my back aches, my boobs ache — everything aches,” she grumbled down into his sheets, “And I feel like I’ve been donkey-kicked straight in the uterus.”

“You start your period or something?”

He didn’t sound sarcastic when he asked it, not that typical boy way of asking any time a girl did something they considered “moody”. It was a genuine question. But it irritated her all the same. 

Everything seemed to be irritating her these days.

“About to,” she answered, “It’s like a day late, but it’s definitely coming.”

She felt the bed shift a bit as he sat next to her.

“Are you nauseous at all?”

Her brows furrowed, a bit confused by the interest.

“I guess a little,” she answered, because even though it was mild, there was a certain turn in her stomach that wasn’t unlike motion sickness, “But honestly, I think it’s just from the pain. This has been going on for like three days.”

“Have you taken anything for it?”

She could’ve laughed if she wasn’t so annoyed by the reminder of all her futile attempts to alleviate this. Because of course he was looking for a quick fix so they could fuck already.

“I’ve taken everything for it,” she groaned, “Nothing’s working.”

He just hummed in response, and then she could feel the sheets behind her dip a bit as he repositioned himself. Into what orientation, she wasn’t sure. She was about to turn her head back and ask him what he was doing when she felt his hand featherlight across her hip.

And between her legs.

“No, Shigaraki please,” she whined, pulling he knees closer into her chest, “I’m not kidding, I’m seriously in a lot of pain—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell that to your hand then,” she snapped as his fingers tried to wiggle their way between her clenched thighs.

“I mean I’m not doing anything for me. This is for you.”

“Oh is it now,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he insisted, more irritably this time, “Orgasms help with cramps, right?”

She stilled, sufficiently stumped by that particular statement. Because yes, she could say from experience that they absolutely did. She’d spent many a nasty period with her fingers latched to clit to chase that particular path of relief. 

…but why the hell did Shigaraki know that?

She gasped as she suddenly felt the gentle roll of her clit under three fingers. Apparently, in her moments of distracted deliberation, Shigaraki managed to push his hand past the plush lock of her thighs and under the hem of her panties.

“Sh-Shigaraki…” she whined, pushing her elbow blindly and weakly back towards him.

He caught it gently in his free palm and, rather than trying to pin or strain it in whatever which way he desired, like usual, he just held it there. Didn’t even hold it in place really, just shielded himself against its determined path towards his ribs.

“I’m serious,” he said, uncharacteristically soft, “I’m trying to help you.”

She finally mustered up the strength to — despite how much her aching abdomen hated her for it — turn and glower at Shigaraki.

“No funny business?” she pressed.

He settled his own flat expression on her, “When have I ever been funny?”

More times than she’d like to admit honestly, but she got what he was saying here. He was a pretty serious, straightforward person on principle. He didn’t bullshit, he didn’t pull cheap tricks, and, shockingly enough, he didn’t typically lie. Frustrating as it was, Tomura Shigaraki was pretty much always unapologetically himself and he always did what he wanted.

So if he said that he was doing this to help her, then she supposed that she didn't actually have a lot of reason to distrust him.

Plus, his fingers hadn’t stopped their soft, but affective ministrations between her legs, and the pleasant sparks of heated relief they were sending through her were undeniable.

She turned back onto her side with a sigh that was half-exasperation, half pleasure.

“Fine,” she said, throwing back quickly before he got too victorious, “But fuck around and I’ll kick you.”

Shigaraki just chuckled, a soft throaty sound that shouldn’t have sent the chills up her spine that it did, “Yeah, yeah…”

In one motion, careful not to jostle her too much, Shigaraki both pulled her back and scooched himself closer, until her back was nestled snug against his surprisingly firm chest and her head laid in the crux of his bicep.

With this new closeness he was able to be a bit more deliberate with the angle and pressure he used to rub at her swollen sex. And, while she hated to admit it, the increased blood flow between her legs was causing the pressure within her to build quite a bit faster than usual. Enough so that it had her letting go of the tension in her neck and joints — the automatic stress reaction she had to any of Shigaraki’s displays of intimacy — and letting the weight of her head drop fully into his embrace.

A shuddering sigh left Shigaraki at that clear relinquishing of control, of the way she truly let herself lay back and relax into him. It gave him the encouragement he needed to enjoy her to the fullest extent that he wanted her as well, burying his nose deep into her hair. 

He started to stroke wider circles around her, the flats of his fingers never leaving her clit, but now allowing the tips to dip softly into her entrance. He didn’t push them in at all past his first knuckles, just enough to catch some of that growing wetness and spread it all across her fluttering lips.

“A-Ah—” she gasped out, “Sh-shit…”

“Like that?” he rasped, hot against her ear.

She bit her lip, nodding needily, “Mm— Mm-hmm…”

He groaned at the response, doubling down on that motion as he started to stud long, hot kisses down the back of her jaw and neck. The feeling, so gentle and intimate and good in combination to the way he worked her sex, had her unconsciously rocking her hips into his touch, and back into his own.

Vaguely through the haze, she could feel the familiar outline of his stiff cock against the cleft of her ass, but shockingly he didn’t try to grind it against her for relief. If anything actually, when her own hips moved unconsciously back against it, he actually shifted his own hips away, anglind them down so his erection pushed into the bed instead. As if he didn’t want her to feel it, that he was concerned about her feeling pressured by its presence.

She didn’t have the chance to think too much into that though, not when his fingers were coaxing her closer to the edge by the second. The mess between her legs was obscene at this point, through teary eyes she could see the overflow of it spreading wide across her thighs and pooling down in the sheets. 

“God look at you, so fucking wet,” he groaned, lips having made it down to her shoulder and staying there so that he could have a better view of her writhing under his touch, “You needed this, huh? Fucking needed me…”

She buried her face into his arm to muffle her moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but also not wanting him to stop.

By some act of God, Shigaraki didn’t push for that answer either. She wasn’t sure why he’d abandoned his typical demands and taunts, didn’t threaten to stop until she gave him the verbal submission and begrudging praise he always wanted. Nor did she stop to think about why, she just let the gratitude course through her, spurred further and wider by the waves of heat rushing through her body, threatening — promising — to overflow.

Shigaraki could feel that axiomatic tension in her body, the boiling point it promised, and sped up his hand to stoke the flames.

“You’re close aren’t you? Oh yeah, you’re close…” his kisses turned to nips at her neck between progressively more demanding growls, “Gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

Fuck, hearing those last words spill from his mouth should not have done what it was doing to her. But it was speeding up her peak, and it was speeding it up audibly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s good, really good. Let it go. Go ahead, be a good girl and let it go.”

She cried out, her arching back forcing her face forward and mouth unmuffled as finally, finally her body went blissfully loose, the pain of the past few days overtaken by waves of heat and pleasure. One after the other, her hormone-driven sensitivity wrung out multiple orgasms, and his frantic fingers were happy to work her through each one until she was begging him to stop.

“Good girl, yeah, yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl,” he continued to praise, returning time and again to that phrase he could feel her getting unconsciously excited over, “That’s my good girl…”

It was just a few blurry moments of consciousness after that. She was pretty sure she whined something like “too much” to him at some point, and he whispered back something that she was sure was just utterly debauched right back. Or maybe it was sweet nothings, he had really favored those by the end of this escapade after all. 

Whatever it all was, she supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered in those seconds of labored breaths and fluttering lashes was the beautiful bliss and relief that finally overtook her body. That allowed her to immediately fall asleep in his arms.

Shigaraki held her there for a long time after. He raked his eyes greedily across her body, letting himself carve every detail deep into his memory. He knew he didn’t need to, not anymore. Her boyfriend, her parents, hell, whether or not she got into Todai with him, it was all a non-issue now. There was no reason for him to lose this anymore. She wasn’t going anywhere in life without him. He was going to be able to revel in this sight for the rest of his life now. And he just couldn’t believe how lucky he was for that.

He chuckled a bit at that. Well, maybe lucky wasn’t the right word. This was all by design after all, weeks of very deliberate planning and deception. It was just like he’d always been taught. It didn’t matter what hand you’ve been dealt — and Tomura Shigaraki had certainly been dealt a shit hand in a lot of ways — a real winner made his own luck. 

Sensei would be mad, Shigaraki knew that much. Everyone would be mad in fact, but he didn’t care. He was just following the fundamental lesson Sensei himself had instilled in him the day they met. 

Take whatever you want, and fuck all the rest.

Several minutes into hearing those sweet deep breaths of unconsciousness from the beautiful girl in his arms, Shigaraki finally peeled his fingers away from her cunt.

And slid a wide hand up to cradle her tummy.

It was dark when she woke up, not a single one of Shigaraki’s many monitors or television lit the windowless room. That was odd for a couple of reasons, the first of which being that the overhead lighting had definitely been on when she’d dozed off. The second of which was that any time Shigaraki wasn’t preoccupied with helping her study or studying her, he was chronically attached to at least one screen, if not multiple, so it was more than a bit odd for him to have zero on. The reason for the lack of blue light however became quickly apparent as her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness.

Shigaraki wasn’t here.

She was totally alone in his room, alone and tucked into his bed. Had he gone to the bathroom or something? But then why would all the lights be off? It seemed like he’d probably been gone for a while. Weird…

She threw off the covers and flipped her legs around with much more ease than she’d done anything over the last three days, much to her relief. However long she’d been out, the sleep had clearly done her some good. The pounding in her head and pelvis had finally ceased, perhaps just in time for her to actually start her period. She did feel some dampness between her legs after all. Although…

Her face heated up as she remembered the much more likely cause of that.

Damn it, she thought with a groan, dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t believe that she actually let him do that to her, for her. He was going to get entirely the wrong idea from it. The idea that she might actually like him and want to spend time with him, that there was some kind of connection between them that extended past the time she was required to spend with him to keep him satisfied. And she absolutely could not deal with that.

Being his little sex toy was one thing. A demoralizing thing, yes, but a manageable one. She’d seen the way Shigaraki treated things he objectified — games and magazines and the like. He got bored of them quickly. And if she was one of those things in his eyes, then eventually he’d get bored with her too and she’d be free.

If he was attached to her though? Had found connection in her and a desire to keep her in his life? She didn’t even want to consider that nightmare scenario.

She made her way out into the hallway, looking up and down from the empty bathroom on one end of the hall to the top of the staircase on the other. She didn’t have to contemplate the lack of presence on this floor for long though, when she heard Shigaraki’s voice echoing up from downstairs, talking emphatically to Kurogiri, she assumed. 

She couldn’t hear exactly what he was talking about, but whatever it was, he was being particular about it. “Don’t overcook” and “perfect” were a few of the words she managed to catch, so it was about food, maybe? The accompanying sounds of sizzling pans and clanking cookware would certainly support that. As would the smell that suddenly hit her.

It wasn’t an unpleasant smell by any means. In fact, it was salmon, one of her favorites. But for some reason at that moment, the smell hit her with a particular intensity that made her feel overwhelmed.

And really fucking nauseous.

She just barely made it to the toilet at the end of the hall, not even fully down to her knees by the time she was emptying her stomach into the bowl. It wasn’t just a brief moment of sickness either. The bouts were loud and long, she was sure that it echoed throughout the entire apartment. It left her red-faced, skin covered and hair clumped with sweat, not to mention still gagging long after she had nothing left to gag on.

A hand she barely even noticed came to rest on the small of her back in the midst of it all. It was only in the aftermath, spent and dry-heaving that she could process the fact that it was Shigaraki, kneeling at her side, patiently stroking small circles into her clammy skin and encouraging her softly.

“Let it out. Just let it all out.”

She groaned once she finally seemed to have a solid thirty seconds of dry, steady breath. And Shigaraki used that respite to nudge a glass of water into her hands.

“Here.”

She didn’t argue or agree, just took it from him with shaky hands, tossing half of it just into her mouth to swish around and spit the remaining bitterness from her tongue.

 “Drink some of it too.”

She nodded shakily, still too drained and disoriented to be irritated with his telling her what to do, or suspicious of the fact that he was being so nice. 

And still, as she took entirely too long to finish the rest of her water with timid little sips, he just knelt on the ground with her, moving the hand on her back to rest on her knee, thumb rubbing circles into the spot where a bruise would undoubtedly form. 

Finally, after a long, silent stretch, she managed to croak out, “W-What time is it?”

“Only seven,” he answered, “Kurogiri’s got dinner almost ready downstairs. Seared salmon, brown rice, avocado salad—”

She whined, shaking her head roughly at the very implication of food.

“Don’t like salmon?”

“I-I do… It’s just—” she gagged a little as she remembered that smell that had set this all off in the first place, “Th-The smell right now. It’s too much…”

“Oh yeah…” he nodded understandingly, muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite make out. It sounded kind of like, “Heightened” and “Read about that…”

Her brows furrowed a bit, frustrated and confused. She was getting the feeling that he was really not telling her something.

“W-What?”

Shigaraki just waved her off, “No, that’s fine, that’s fine. Salmon’s not the only thing he made. There’s sauteed spinach, wakame tofu soup, toasted—” 

Jesus Christ, was Kurogiri cooking for an army down there or something? 

Well, whoever it was all for, and as delicious as it all sounded in theory, imagining those foods in practice right now was making her feel sick all over again.

“Mm-mm, Mm-mm!” she whined, shaking her head again.

She didn’t want to risk opening her mouth right now, lest she blow chunks all over the front of Shigaraki’s shirt. Although wouldn’t that be a nice little serving of karma for him…

“You need to eat something,” he insisted, more lecturey than she’d ever heard him, but with a strange gentleness to his voice as well, “And you need to drink some more too. You’re totally dehydrated.”

She shook her head more emphatically at that, which only resulted in her falling forward into his chest. 

He caught her before she could fall any further, scolding her not too harshly, in fact, a bit whimsically, “Is this how you’re gonna be the whole time?”

She pulled her head back to look at him, a confused furrow in her brows that brought the corners of his lips up.

“It’s not a bad look on you to be honest. All weak and petulant,” he brought a hand to pinch lightly at her cheek, “It’s kinda cute actually.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally feeling her stomach steady enough in her to be annoyed. He chuckled, just as amused and endeared by this look as the last. 

“Well how about okayu?” he offered with a patronizing little lilt, “And maybe some ginger tea?”

He clearly wasn’t going to let this go. And infuriatingly, he was right not to. She definitely was in no shape to go home on this empty stomach. 

She sighed.

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

Going at her own shaking, snailish pace, Shigaraki helped her up onto her legs, pulling her immediately into his side as he led her back towards his bedroom. Normally she’d protest, stick an elbow right into his ribs and storm on ahead of him, but honestly she needed the help right now. So she sucked it up and let him lead her back into his bed. 

But that didn’t stop her from eying him suspiciously as he propped his pillows up behind her and tucked her back in under his comforter, the overall way he doted and fretted over her, even stopping to look back at her one more time from the doorway before he returned downstairs to give Kurogiri the new marching orders.

She dropped her head back against the pillows when finally alone, a bad feeling settling heavier and heavier in her stomach. This was beyond weird, the way he was acting. Sure, the guy was overbearing and constantly demanding of her attention, stupidly needy even. But doting? Not only willing but eager to put her needs ahead of his own? Caring deeply about her actual well-being and not just what he wanted to be her well-being? This was all way too out of character for him.

“…You can tell me. If he bothered you, I mean. N-Not just the Doctor either… If um… If anything’s bothering you.”

She sighed at the memory. Alright, maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He’d shown at least some capability and even interest in her wants and well-being, he wasn’t a complete monster.

But still, all of this? The cooing and the caring and the, erm, servicing even that he’d done? It felt like too much. Like she was missing something really key about it all.

Like something was wrong .

Whether she ended up getting lost in that train of thought for long, or Kurogiri had already had some okayu whipped up downstairs, she wasn’t sure, but she was startled by how quickly it seemed that Shigaraki returned with a breakfast tray in hand. She cocked her head as he set it up over her lap, this was a lot more robust than she was expecting, and, she realized as she examined everything on the tray, a lot more stocked as well.

There was okayu, front and center for her, yes. But also on the tray was another small bowl of soup (looked like the wakame that Shigaraki had mentioned, a thing of plain yogurt (the really fancy kind that came in the glass jars), a glass of orange juice…

And a little dish of four pills. 

Painkillers or antiemetics maybe? They looked more like vitamins…

“Go ahead and start with the okayu if you want,” Shigaraki explained as he climbed up into the bed next to her, “But I want you to try and get some of the wakame and yogurt down too…”

As he settled down, his legs flush with her own, he continued to rattle off instructions and explanations for the rest of her tray, sending her mind completely spinning, faster and faster, like a goddamn Gravitron.

And she was ready to get the fuck off.

“...if nothing else though, take the vitamins. You need the folate, calcium, iron, and the omega-3 especially, since you don’t want the salmon—”

“Okay, stop, stop, stop !”

Shigaraki paused, having the audacity to look at her like she was crazy for snapping. 

“Jesus—what the hell are you even talking about Shigaraki?!” she demanded, “What’d you say, folate? What? What is all this?”

He cocked his head, clearly playing innocent. Whatever this was, he was clearly enjoying the slow unraveling of it all.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” she snapped, “All this attention and doting and food stuff! What the hell is this all about?!”

He just smiled back at her, taking in how pretty she looked, even when mad (especially when mad sometimes), God, to think that this really was his forever now. He wondered if they had a girl, how much she’d look like her. He hoped a lot…

“I just want to make sure you’re getting all the vitamins and nutrients you need…”

He reached over then, spreading his hand flat against her stomach.

“ Both of you .”

She froze.

No.

No, he couldn’t mean—

She tried to speak, tried to ask what the ever-loving- fuck he was talking about, but her mouth had seemed to go dry. She tried several times to open and wet it a bit, but every time she did, it felt like her throat was closing too. It took at least four desperate attempts for her to finally force out one rasped:

“... what? ”

Shigaraki’s grin widened, and he started to rub circles gently across her belly.

“You’re gonna look so cute, all big and round with my kid,” he giggled suddenly as he remembered something, “Oh, and your tits too. I wonder how big they’re gonna get…”

She stared at him, unblinking, unbreathing. Everything but un-fucking-existing.

He couldn’t be serious. He was fucking with her. He had to be fucking with her!

“Th-That’s not funny.”

His grin evened a little, not disappearing outright, but settling away some of its blissful excitement into something more coyly victorious.

“I said it already,” he reminded, “When have I ever been funny?”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“N-No. No, no, no this isn’t— there’s no way—”

“I’ve got the tests ready when you need to pee, but I think it’s pretty clear. These are all the symptoms I read about.”

“No!” she insisted, “N-No, no— this is, it’s my period! It’s just a day late, it’s not—!”

He chuckled, “I know the symptoms can be similar, but come on. When’s the last time you’ve hurled like that thanks to your period? And the sensitivity to smell? You know this is different.”

Crumbling, every argument she could possibly think of was crumbling to dust before she could even get the thought fully formed. And cruel, vicious reality was more than happy to take its place.

“B-But my birth control pills…”

“Fertility pills,” he explained, his splitting-grin returning in full, “I would’ve preferred to get Clomid from the doctor, but it looks like the over the counter stuff and tracking your cycle worked just fine.”

Her stomach dropped. Pieces of memories, peculiar behaviors and nagging thoughts she’d had over the last two months falling into place. How there were stretches of times where he’d cancel their sessions, only to insist they make them up a few specific days in a row. How he wanted to go multiple rounds a lot those days. How he’d stopped wanting blowjobs from her entirely. How he seemed to only want to fuck her from behind or with her knees pressed hard into her chest, positions he could fuck her the deepest in.

And how he’d have her stay still with his cock buried in her after he came. 

Back then, she just thought he was being weird and pervy. And in a way she was right.

Horribly fucking right.

Shigaraki shifted his legs away from her so that he could bring his head down to her lap, laying his cheek blissfully against her belly. 

“Was so easy,” he hummed against her skin, “Like your body was just waiting for me to knock you up. Waiting for me to make you mine…”

His hands moved across her body, one coiling behind her back so that he could pull her tighter into him, the other lacing his fingers through her own. The fingers on her trembling left hand.

“Both of you, forever,” he growled happily, a predator who had finally and definitively sunk his teeth into his prey, “All mine.”

[wrongbodies]

The Worst Science Convention I Ever Went To

The main expo space of the convention center was abuzz with activity. Everywhere around me nerds and geeks of all sorts milled about, looking at the various experiments and research presentations. The main sessions were separated into different viewing rooms, but the floor of the main space was littered with all sorts of wackier research.

I stuck out like a sore thumb, I imagined. Well, me and my teammates. A couple of us guys on the lacrosse team had taken the same class expecting an easy grade. Turns out Intro to the Scientific Method was a bit more involved than we had thought. We had to go on field trips like this, or we'd get a shit grade. So here I was with my friends, Luke and Rocky.

"Seth!" Luke called out to me. I turned to see him standing in front of a strange machine, his short hair sticking up from static electricity. I approached amused.

"This is a van de graaff generator. It generates a direct current, and when the energy reaches your strands of hair, they repel each other. It appears to 'float.'" The dorky old man said. He was giddy with excitement. I was less amused now that he explained it, if I am being honest.

"Cool... uh, let's go check something else out Luke." I said. Rocky approached, gesturing to something away from the static machine.

"I don't get how people like this stuff." I said. "It's neat, I guess... but I'd rather be outside. It's so nice out, finally."

"I know. At least we have practice later. 'Sides, we need the extra credit from this. It's worth it." Rocky explained.

"True, ugh." I lamented. "Where are we going, anyways?"

"I saw something pretty crazy down this way. The guy is still setting up, but I'm actually wondering if it will work." Rocky said, a little mysteriously.

Luke, and Rocky, and I approached the small stage that the experiment was set up on. A small crowd of onlookers were already collecting. I noticed that there was a large group of dweeby high schoolers on the other side of the stage, all of them starry eyed at the machine set up on the stage. One of them kept glancing at me, though. A beanpole kid with messy red hair, bad acne, and watery blue eyes. A nerd, I could not help by wrinkle my nose at.

I and my lacrosse friends pressed in closer. When they pushed past some old women, I was able to read the plaque finally.

"Dr. Lark's Mind-Drift Experiment"

Seth had no idea what that meant, but Rocky seemed excited about it. He kept babbling about what a high it would be to try it. They were interrupted after a few more minutes by a broad-shouldered man stepping to the front of the stage.

"Greetings, convention goers and fellow scientists!" The man called. He sounded more like a carnival barker than a scientist. "I have a fantastic experiment to showcase today. I assure you it is possible to merge two minds, to wade into the memories and feelings of another!"

The crowd murmured in incredulity. Rocky was bumping Luke and I on the back. This was apparently what he was excited to try out.

"Now, I would like to give some trial runs. Could I have some volunteers?" Dr. Lark asked. Rocky grabbed Luke's arm and lifted, throwing his other arm up. Dr. Lark seemed amused at the exuberance, so he beckoned the two boys up.

The doctor got to work preparing the device. It actually looked quite similar to the van de graaff generator, from before. A single silver orb stood in the middle of the stage, atop a similar silver stand. It was so sleek and shiny, it looked more like some piece of scifi decoration that an actual experiment.

Sure enough, though, when the doctor finished turning the power source on, the sphere hummed faintly. The two lacrosse boys were commanded forward, and then instructed to place one hand each on the sphere. As soon as Luke and Rocky did so, they immediately seemed to slump into a stupor. Their heads drooped forward, eyes rolling back up in their head. They made no noise, except every once in a while a big breath. The doctor let them stay that way for about 2 minutes, before he shut the power off.

My friends came to, almost immediately. As they looked around, they looked at their hands, and then at each other. Grinning, they turned to the doctor and expressed their surprise.

"What did you experience, boys? Tell the crowd!" Dr. Lark asked.

"It felt like I WAS my friend, Rocky." Luke said. "I could hear his thoughts, and his memories... it was like I was in them, but I knew it wasn't me those things happened to."

"Same! I could feel his emotions, man. I didn't realize he had such a crush on my sister... Eww, wtf!" Rocky laughed. He was a little disgusted.

The crowd seemed a bit more convinced. Others were asking to have another demonstration. Dr. Lark sent my friends off the stage.

"I'll try it!" I yelled out. I was not about to let my friends have all the fun.

"Very well, then, step up here." Dr. Lark waved me up.

"Now, who would we have to drift minds with this strapping young man?" Dr. Lark asked of the crowd.

"Me! Oh me! Please!" A nasally voice cried out. I looked around and felt my heart sink when I realized it was that geeky boy from before, the ginger-haired boy.

"Excellent! Get up here and let's drift your minds together." Dr. Lark said.

I wasn't happy about sharing my mind with this loser, but I put myself in this situation, so I'd suck it up. I wasn't looking forward to swimming through memories about star trek or whatever.

When the hum returned to the sphere, after Dr. Lark turned the power back on, he instructed us to place one hand onto the sphere. I did so, along with geek boy. As soon as we both did, it felt like I was falling. Time ceased to matter, I was dropping into a void. I couldn't feel my body as a thousand other sensations took front stage of my mind.

What was striking immediately was how unfamiliar these feelings were. There was raw excitement like a bright sun, shining into me, through me... it defied my understanding. Suddenly memories of beating video game bosses, solving math problems, winning a quiz show, getting badges from a troop leader... everything felt like it happened to me. I was Randy. Randy? That's his name. My name. Our name.

Then I realized I could feel him. He was all around me, as I was all around him. It was like oil in water, we played across the surfaces of one another. We couldn't talk to one another, per se, but we could interpret each others feelings. I could tell he was a little wounded from my disgust with him. I felt guilty, but still couldn't help my dissatisfaction from seeping out.

We stayed like this for so long, I was wondering how it could possibly be less than a minute or so, but I knew that is what happened with my friends. So when we started to emerge from the shared mind, I was startled to hear screams and what sounded like a huge commotion all around.

I didn't even have time to take stock of my situation or look at Randy before I was knocked to the ground. It was jolting, but at least it spurred me to take notice. A fire was raging behind the stage. Dr. Lark was nowhere to be seen, the sphere had toppled over, seemingly what knocked us out of the drift.

Smoke was rolling over the top of the crowd, and everyone was dashing about in a panic. I looked for my friends, but they were gone. Randy was gone too, it seemed. I decided 'gone' was the right idea, and scrambled back to my feet and started pushing through panicked people to get to an exit I had seen before.

After several times nearly tripping over some nerd or crying geek, I was able to slip out a fire exit. Once I was outside and following a crowd to a safe distance, I reached for my phone to call Luke and Rocky. Except, when I reached down instead of the tight joggers I was certain I put on this morning, I found myself reaching into the pocket of a cheap pair of jeans. Strange... and what was weirder was the phone I pulled out was an Android, not my cracked Iphone...

Looking at the phone I was then alerted to something else. The fingers curled around the phone weren't mine. These fingers were spindly, with little freckles dotting them. The chewed nails definitely were not mine either. I opened the phone somehow, and found the camera app. I was starting to get even more freaked out than the fire had made me. Sure enough, the camera did not refute my suspicion.

Looking back in the camera was Randy. His face was my face now! Actually, it seemed I had his whole body now. I looked down the front of my torso. I could feel through the hoodie a narrow chest, with absolutely no definition except where bones peeked through.

"Randy! Thank goodness you are safe!" A stern looking woman called out. I spun, realizing that she was talking to me. "Let's go! We are doing a head count on the bus."

"But I'm not-" I started to argue back when I was bumped by someone stumbling through the crowd. The woman steadied me and then tugged, leading me to the yellow school bus. I was mortified, but everything felt like it was happening too fast.

How was I going to get out of this?

To be continued

[fittopfactory-sandy]

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[liviawildrose]

𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟏

WHAT IS THE LYMPHATIC SYSTEM?

think of the lymphatic system as your body’s emotional janitor and drainage crew. it’s part of your immune system, and it does the following:

• filters waste, toxins, and pathogens

• moves lymph (a clear fluid) through your body

• helps circulate white blood cells

• absorbs fats from your digestive system

• balances fluids in your tissues

it’s made up of:

• lymph (fluid)

• lymph nodes (filter stations)

• lymphatic vessels (the pipelines)

• spleen, thymus, tonsils, bone marrow (support squad)

your heart pumps blood, but your lymph has no pump. it moves through muscle movement, breath, and manual stimulation. no movement = no drainage = sluggish, bloated, toxic vibes

WHAT IS LYMPHATIC DRAINAGE?

lymphatic drainage is the process of stimulating lymph flow to help it do its job faster and more efficiently. this can be done manually with massage or with tools/devices. it’s like giving your internal plumbing system a nudge.

benefits?

• reduced swelling/inflammation

• glowing skin

• decreased bloating

• boosted immunity

• improved healing post-surgery

• less brain fog

• reduced cellulite appearance

• de-puffing (hello, snatched face + jawline)

WHY YOUR LYMPH SYSTEM LOWKEY RUNS YOUR LIFE

when your lymph is stagnant, it doesn’t just affect your body it affects your mood, energy, skin, digestion, even spiritual flow. (yes, your energy field has drainage, too.)

poor lymph flow can lead to:

• chronic fatigue/ laziness/ procrastination

• frequent colds/infections

• puffy face or limbs

• brain fog

• digestive issues

• poor healing

• acne + skin flare-ups

• fibromyalgia or pain syndromes

this is your sign to stop ignoring your lymph.

SIGNS YOUR LYMPHATIC SYSTEM MIGHT BE CONGESTED

• you wake up puffy AF

• you get sick a lot

• your skin looks dull or acne-prone

• you always feel bloated or heavy

• your eyes feel heavy/tired

• you have sinus issues

• your underarms or groin feel tender (lymph node overload)

• water retention that won’t go away

TYPES OF LYMPHATIC DRAINAGE

A. MANUAL LYMPHATIC DRAINAGE (MLD)

• slow, rhythmic, skin-stretching strokes

• developed by Dr. Emil Vodder

• done by trained therapists or at home

• moves lymph from extremities toward nodes

B. MECHANICAL DRAINAGE

• compression suits (like Normatec)

• vacuum suction (like LPG Endermologie)

• electric rollers + vibration plates

C. INTERNAL (NATURAL)

• breathwork

• rebounding (trampoline bouncing)

• dry brushing

• sauna/sweating

• hydration

• movement & inversion yoga

HOW TO DO MANUAL LYMPHATIC DRAINAGE AT HOME

PREP:

• be well-hydrated

• be relaxed (stimulating lymph in stress = nah)

• use a dry brush or clean hands

FACE:

1. start at collarbone, gently massage down and out

2. jawline → ears → down neck

3. under eyes → temples → down sides of face

4. forehead → temples → behind ears → down neck

5. always drain downwards toward collarbone

BODY:

1. start at armpits

2. stroke down from arms to armpits

3. belly massage in clockwise circular motions

4. groin lymph massage with gentle circular movement

5. legs: ankles upward to thighs, ending at groin

tip: Always go from distal to proximal, meaning far-to-close to the heart. And be gentle lymph is superficial, you don’t need deep pressure.

DEVICES THAT CAN HELP

for the face:

• gua sha (natural, ancient, sculpting goddess magic) (i use this)

• jade rollers (cooling and de-puffing)

• Foreo Bear or NuFace (microcurrent tools)

• ice globes (i use this)

• vibrating massagers (i use this)

for the body:

• dry brushes (firm bristle brush for exfoliation + flow) (i use this)

• lymphatic paddle boards (i use this)

• compression boots (used by athletes + lymphatic clinics)

• vibration plates (you stand and it shakes your lymph awake)

• infrared sauna blankets

• LPG Endermologie machines

LYMPH-FRIENDLY LIFESTYLE HACKS

FOODS:

• raw fruits (pineapple, berries, citrus)

• leafy greens

• ginger + turmeric

• dandelion root

• seaweed

• chlorella + spirulina

• omega-3 rich foods

HERBS:

• red clover

• cleavers

• echinacea

• astragalus

HABITS:

• drink water (especially warm lemon water)

• move daily (walk, yoga, stretch)

• alternate hot + cold showers

• dry brush before shower

• rebound on mini-trampoline

• sleep well (drainage is boosted in deep sleep)

LYMPH + BEAUTY

• lymphatic drainage de-puffs the face like magic

• stimulates collagen production

• clears breakouts by boosting detox

• reduces dark circles

• tightens jawline and cheekbones

• boosts skincare absorption

SPIRITUAL + ENERGETIC LAYER

in many healing traditions (like Ayurveda, TCM), lymph = life fluid. congestion = blocked emotional energy

blocked lymph = blocked creativity, blocked intuition, blocked glow.

draining the lymph = restoring your internal flow, your connection to Self, Source, and spirit.

you wanna shine? clear your waters.

HOW OFTEN SHOULD YOU DO LYMPHATIC DRAINAGE?

• face: daily or every other day

• body: 3x a week minimum

• post-op: depends on doctor’s advice

• vibration plates/compression boots: 15–30 mins a few times a week

CONTRAINDICATIONS + SAFETY

don’t do lymphatic drainage if:

• you have active cancer

• you have infections or fever

• you have blood clots or deep vein thrombosis

• you are pregnant (only do under supervision)

• you’ve had heart or kidney issues (speak to a doc first)

always listen to your body. gentle is good. pain is not.

FINAL WORD

your lymphatic system is like your inner spa therapist, immune defense squad, and emotional sponge rolled into one. don’t sleep on it.

if you want:

• snatched cheekbones

• less puffiness

• glowing, radiant skin

• fewer colds

• balanced moods

• deep detox

• emotional flow

then lymphatic drainage isn’t optional. it’s essential. give your body the love, movement, and flow it deserves.

[valley-flower0]

is it just me or does

Simon Riley

falls in love with you when he sees you in your ugliest state???

imagine you waking up w bead head, morning glory and drool on your face... walking up to a coffee machine greeting him "good morning" and almost dropped his tea at the sight of u

or when you're all muddy, dirty and all beaten up from training...

you get frustrated over acne breakout, cursing and shit saying you're ugly and all and he just watches you... "Hmm, so pretty..."

imagine you got drunk you're messy and out of it and he's like "must protect"

I don't know, man. I just feel like he realises you're perfect for him when he sees you're not perfect at all.