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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year ago

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High Maintenance 101

Prissy Girl Beauty Regimens 🎀

my prissy girl guide to beauty services and building a beauty lifestyle that fits you 💗

Skincare:

Essential Skincare Routine ❤︎︎

twice daily, in the morning and at night

daytime: gentle cleanser, toner, serum, eye cream, moisturizer, SPF

prep and protect skin

nighttime: double cleansing with oil and cleanser, exfoliation, treatments, moisturizer

wash away the day and help skin accept treatments and actives during your beauty sleep

products will change depending on skin type and goals, but sequence will more or less stay the same

Face Masks + Treatments ❤︎︎

Face Masks -

typically done at home 1-3x/week

clay, gel, mud, cream, liquid

my fav masks at home:

aha + bha liquid mask by the ordinary: a literal overhaul of my pores. it’s refining and helps reduce texture and hyperpigmentation. 1-2 x/week

korean modeling mask: i use this after doing everything in my routine. it’s super cooling and smooths my skin out. the low temp of the mask reduces flushing of my skin and helps the steps in my routine absorb better. 2-3 x/week

Treatments -

done either 1-3x/week and/or exclusively at night

consumer grade Retinols, AHAs, BHAs at high strength

little extra things i like to use to enhance my routine:

gua sha, ice pack, rose quartz roller, however often i choose

Facials ❤︎︎

done every 1-2 months by licensed estheticians

often includes exfoliation and extraction

Classic Facial: cleanse, extract, massage, moisturize

HydraFacials: extracts pores while infusing serums to boost skin’s vitamin and nutrient content

dry, dehydrated skin

Microdermabrasion: microabrasive tool removes outermost, textured, damaged layer of skin using suction to reveal a smooth and refined new layer of skin

sun damaged, aged, textured skin or skin with hyperpigmentation

Chemical Peel: application of medical grade AHA, BHA, Lactic Acid, Fruit Enzymes, or Retinol to peel away top layers of skin over the course of 1-2 weeks

pore refining, brightening, and anti-aging

after care is crucial. skin will be peeling and sensitivity to sun is increased. SPF MUST be used. it’s heavily advised that clients stay home for the first few days.

HydroJelly Facial: facial made of electrolytes, algae, organic white grain oat flour, rice flour, and white willow bark powder. leaving your skin hydrated, plump, and nourished. forms a vacuum-like seal that compresses facial contours.

there are 25 different hydrojelly pro masks for most skin concerns you may have, check here

More Facials ❤︎︎

Contouring Facial: sculpting, tightening, and lifting of facial muscles

LED Facial: uses LED light to soothe inflammation, aiding in acne healing and prevention

Vampire Facial: plumps skin and improves wrinkles by extracting blood, removing its platelets, then either re-injecting it into the skin or applying it topically

Diamond File Facial: finely ground diamonds resurface skin by filing to improve dark spots

Glass Skin Botox: multiple tiny botox injections just below the surface of the skin. alleviate fine lines, redness, texture, and more achieving glass skin

AquaGold Facial: microinjections that combine vampire facial methods, hyaluronic acid, botox, stem cells, antioxidants, vitamins, peptides, etc. improves fine lines, wrinkles, pores, pigmentation, acne scarring, dryness, tone, texture, skin elasticity, and more

cite

Hair:

Hair Care ❤︎︎

Wash Routines:

curly textured: wash and condition every 2-3 weeks, deep condition every 1-2 weeks

straight: wash and condition every 2-3 days, deep condition every 2-3 weeks

Styling ︎❤︎︎

Hair should have a style everyday! At home hairstyling is limitless and really depends on your taste and lifestyle. The everyday woman does her own her once every 1-4 weeks using natural hair products, heat, or other tools.

Professional Stylists:

hair is styled every 1-3 months: uses heat to straighten or curl, extensions to lengthen and add volume, shears to maintain/attain a shape and length

trim ends: every 6-8 weeks

hair color: touched up roughly every 6-8 weeks (depending on how fast your hair is growing and how fast your color will fade)

Silk Press:

after a clarifying wash and deep conditioning, natural hair is straightened using flat iron and/or pressing comb, then usually curled in feathers or pin curls to preserve the style

lasts 3-4 weeks depending on maintenance

preserved by wrapping hair at night, keep hands out of hair, and using a wide toothed comb only

can be further styled with different kind of rollers, or with pin curls

Braids:

afrocentric hairstyles typically done to protect hair while maintaining beauty

lasts 3-8 weeks

styles include knotless braids, faux locs, stitch braids, french braids, etc

Extensions:

hair added to natural hair to enhance length or volume

can be done at home with patience and proper materials

sew-in extensions: (my personal fav) 1-2 months

your natural hair gets braided down flush to your scalp and the bundles are sewn on by the wefts in a flat pattern typically with a section of hair left out to cover the wefts $100-600

microlinks: up to 4 months

i-tip extension is added to hair using micropliers, clippers and loop tool. takes far longer than most extension methods but looks the absolute most natural $500-1000

tape-in extensions: up to a year, touch ups every 4-6 weeks

medical grade tape is used to attach extensions to small sections of hair $200-400

clip-in extensions: 3-6 months

extensions are clipped on by the wefts. the hair itself can last up to six months, but it’s not recommended to sleep, shower, or swim with the extensions in $50-100

Natural Styles:

all last roughly 1-2 weeks at most. allowing hair to completely DRY is crucial for these styles. your natural hair can be further changed in styles like buns, puffs, etc once dry

natural hair essentials: scalp oil, leave in conditioner, detangling brush, wide tooth comb, curling cream, styling gel, edge control and edge brush

wash n’ go

wash and detangle, then use leave in conditioner to keep hair moist. oil on the scalp and ends is recommended for growth and healthy ends

bantu knots

a traditionally african style where the hair is cleanly sectioned (usually parted in a cute pattern) and twisted into knots. style can be worn just like this or taken down for curls

braid/twist out

a specific pattern of curls is achieved after hair is twisted or braided with curl preserving products. end result depends on how big your twists or braids are

roller set

hair is sprayed with water and curl cream applied before roller of your choice is added. hair is left to dry usually overnight for springy well formed curls

Brows and Lashes:

Brow Shaping ❤︎︎

in salon or at home

Waxing - every 3 weeks

Threading- every 2-3 weeks

Razor Shaping - weekly

Brow Enhancement ❤︎︎

Tinting - monthly

can be done at home or by pro in the salon

Microblading - every 1-3 years + annual touch ups, exclusively professional work

cosmetic tattooing using a manual tool with nearly invisible hair-like needles to inject pigment in brows to create your desired brow look

Lash Enhancements ❤︎︎

*done exclusively by professionals

Lifts - every 6 weeks

basically a perm for your lashes to curl them semi-permanently for lashes to appear longer

Lash Extensions - new set every 6-8 weeks, fill ins every 2-3 weeks depending on quality and style

false individual strands of lashes glued to natural lashes to create semi-permanent length and/or volume

lash baths: wet lashes and apply a small amount of gentle cleanser or a “lash bath” to lashes. cleanse lashes and eyelids for about 10 seconds. hold a towel under your eye and use a nozzle bottle to flush soap and bacteria from lashes then dry with a disposable lint free towel. finish by brushing your lashes with a spoolie. daily.

Lash Styles:

Classic: one lash on each fan, thin lashes

Volume: fluffier lashes with more lashes on each fan

Hybrid: uses classic and volume lashes to make an alternated look

Russian: volume lashes made with very thin individuals, 5-6 extensions per natural lash, fanned out look

DIY Lash Extensions - lasts about a week (sometimes longer)

lash fragments or individual wisps are glued either under the lashes or on the lash line. KISS Falscara is a product that makes this concept simple and easy

Nails:

all these services can be done at home with the proper materials and KNOWLEDGE

Classic Manicure ❤︎︎

every 1-2 weeks

nail service that consists of soaking hands in warm soapy water then drying them. nails are trimmed, filed, and buffed. cuticles are pushed back before applying nail polish (base coat, color, top coat), then finally cuticle oil is applied.

nails can be enhanced with rhinestones, glitter, or charms and attached with uv gel or nail glue

my fav styles are pink, cream, white, black and any french tip using those colors

Pedicure ❤︎︎

every 2-4 weeks

sister to the classic manicure, but can be upgraded depending on materials. steps are similar to manicure, except feet are scrubbed and exfoliated before feet are washed and dried to apply nail color

regular polish, acrylic, or gel can be used on toenails

Gel or Shellac Mani ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

same process as the classic manicure, but traditional nail polish is replaced with uv base coat, gel or CND Shellac polish, then uv top coat that’s cured in a UV or LED lamp

longer lasting and more strong/3d than classic mani and is typically removed by soaking in acetone

Apres Gel-X Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

my personal fav at home nails using the artme yoko matsuda nails. after doing a classic mani sans polish, you apply a dehydrator and primer to prep nail for gel. then you apply builder gel to your natural nail and cure. then you apply that same builder to the nail extension after etching it using an electric drill or acetone. marry the gel to your nail and cure. then just shape to your liking and top with uv top coat. tutorial here

Acrylic Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks, nails are fully grown out after 6 weeks

manicure done with liquid monomer and acrylic powder to build and extend natural nail, then polished with color or just a top coat if desired

Russian Mani ❤︎︎

every 4-5 weeks

essentially a gel manicure, but more invasive. the eponychium is snipped away so polish can be applied more closely and flush to the cuticle. this aids in visuals and longevity

service is seen as risky because the skin is more susceptible to fungal or bacterial infection. this is actually how i do my nails at home.

Body:

Bathing ❤︎︎

2x daily

self explanatory, we all know how to bathe. i have other posts that talk about my shower and bath routines.

use a gentle cleanser then a scented body wash to complement perfume and smell fresh all day.

if needed, you can use body soaps with actives like aha, bha or retinol to exfoliate or treat skin at night

exfoliation - 2-3x/week. using scrubs, loofahs, bath brushes, etc.

Hair Removal ❤︎︎

shaving - 2-3x/week

waxing - every 3-5 weeks

sugaring - monthly

ipl device - a device that uses light therapy to slowly destroy hair follicles and unwanted pigment in skin. i use mine after every 5-6 shaves but i could really use it more often.

Vajacial ❤︎︎

1-2x/month

a “facial” for your lady area

the esthetician will first wax, then cleanse and apply an enzyme exfoliant. then they extract any blackheads or ingrown hairs from the area before applying a soothing mask usually in the jelly form.

Moisture and Hydration ❤︎︎

body cream or lotion - daily right after bathing to hydrate skin

body oil - daily to seal in moisture and protect skin from debris and dryness

masks - weekly to address particular skin concerns

ex. when i was having eczema flare ups on my back, i used a dead sea mud mask every 1-2 weeks to help treat it

done at home or at spa

glycolic, clay, mud, salicylic, etc.

Enhancement Procedures:

the goal is to look younger and balance facial features. all these services are exclusively done by professionals usually in a medspa and are widely considered luxury.

Botox ❤︎︎

every 6-8 months; between brows, smile lines, outer corners of eyes, etc

discourages muscle movement to reduce wrinkles

Lifts ❤︎︎

lasts about 10 years; face, neck, brow, eyelids

skin is lifted to desired look, then excess skin is removed

Fillers ︎❤︎︎

every 6-12 months; under-eye, lips, jawline, wrinkle sites, cheekbones

injects acids (usually naturally occurring) like Hyaluronic Acid and Calcium Hydroxylapatite to add volume to your face

Body Contouring ❤︎︎

every 2-4 months until desired results are achieved

non invasive liposuction to achieve desired physique

CoolSculpting - cryolipolysis freezes fat cells for the body to the metabolize and and remove them

SculpSure - essentially the same as CoolSculpting, but uses heat and laser technology to destroy fat cells

Laser Hair Removal ❤︎︎

every 5-6 weeks; bikini, underarms, legs, arms

touch ups done every 1-2 years

hair growth is inhibited by exposing follicles to light at frequencies that kill them

Building the Regimen 🗒️💕:

when making appointments with your “glam squad” you can stagger your services by week depending on what’s being done. for example you can get your mani and pedi done one week. then your facials, brows and lashes another week.

Things to Keep in Mind 💭💞:

these frequencies won’t be the same for everyone depending on personal wants, budgets, etc. but will most likely land somewhere in the ranges i gave. if you need touch ups or redos any sooner than i mapped out, then the service most likely was of poor quality.

anything done at home may or may not be up to the level of detail and longevity as salon or spa work. if you see yourself doing the majority of your beauty maintenance at home, this can save money but may end up taking more time than professional services. so it’s a give and take.

More Resources:

manage your routines, services and products using a beauty binder

a look at my skincare routine

at home beauty treatments for the summer

my hair care routine at home

pretty on purpose by @shefromhouston

monthly beauty routine by @angeljpg

dream girl routines by me

#the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey #prissy lifestyle tips 💕🎀#dream girl routines #masterpost #my posts #skincare

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nvareim · 3 months ago

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bite me, v. garza x fem! reader

tags; predator/prey, fearplay, dacryphilia, degradation, drugging, thigh riding, stalking, dubcon and toxic dynamics. MDNI w/c; 4.4k ao3 link | pinterest board a/n; never arguining with a woman with big brown eyes, whatever u say gorgeous

The streets of Las Almas are still blood-stained the day you escape.

It’s been quieter since the Shadows combed through the city, killing anything that moved. The dogs no longer bark, kids don’t play in the streets, and the armed men who roamed every alley are few and far between. It’s the perfect opening. You spend the morning preparing.

You pack lightly, only the things you’re sure you’ll need. Clothing for layering, socks, underwear, and cash. It all fits nicely in a backpack you can easily carry. You leave both of your phones on the nightstand, the backs pried off and batteries neatly stacked atop each other.

The better part of an hour is spent prying at the metal collar around your neck. You pry at the latch until your fingers are bloody, picking at the screw that holds it together. As a last resort, you use the point of a utility knife. You sit just inches away from the mirror, neck twisted at an uncomfortable angle as you slowly unscrew the locking mechanism. You’re stock-still, barely breathing out of fear the blade will slip.

The second the collar unlatches, you rip it from around your neck and throw it aside. It slides across the floor, hitting the baseboard with a heavy thud. You take deep, ragged breaths as you study your reflection. The lack of weight around your neck is foreign. With it gone, your decision is final. There’s no turning back now.

Las Almas is teeming with Mexican soldiers. They pace the Greyhound station, X12s strapped to their thighs and rifles slung across their chests. Their watchful eyes follow you as you pay for your ticket in cash with shaky hands. The old woman in the booth hardly scrutinizes your forged papers, clicking away at her keyboard as she logs information. She slides your ticket through the opening in the plexiglass, wishing you a safe trip.

You practically fall onto a bench, sighing as you hug your bag close to your body. Rain pours down from the roof, streaming toward the storm drains. The air is thick and warm with moisture, heavy on your skin. You bounce your knee nervously as you wait for the bus to round the corner.

When it does arrive, you’re the first to board. You snag a window seat at the very back where you can watch every passenger enter. You hold your breath with each new rider, nervously anticipating Valeria or one of her men to be the next passenger. It isn’t until the bus is pulling away from Las Almas that you feel the weight lift from your chest, though just barely.

Your journey north becomes a slow crawl. The best ticket you could afford brought you just north of Denver. The rest of your cash is rationed out and stuffed beneath your clothing.

In the beginning, the kiss of cool air against your skin is refreshing. It’s a welcome reprieve from the sweltering Mexican heat. A reminder of how far you’ve gotten. But the novelty quickly wears off once the slight chill turns unforgiving. You attempt to adapt by picking up a free coat from a local church and bartering over warmer clothes from thrift stores, but they only do so much to protect you from the bitter cold. Homeless shelters aren’t an option, the lines are longer as the dead of winter draws nearer. By the time you reach Wyoming, you’re running low on money to spend. You resort to stealing food from gas stations and sleeping in alleyways. You spend your days in local libraries, reevaluating your route north and searching for updates on Valeria. Librarians typically quirk a brow at your peculiar behavior, but leave you alone until they close down for the night.

As the nights grow longer, they become even more difficult to get through. You curl yourself into a ball, your money stuffed into the band of your bra and a knife clutched tightly in your hand lest anyone gets any ideas. Hostels are few and far between and only reserved for nights you’d surely die if you slept outside.

In early December, you spend a decent chunk of your food budget on a cheap motel room. It’s a shady establishment just outside of a small city, the kind of place you pay for by the hour. Snow flutters down and gathers in the parking lot, the pure white flakes quickly soiled by the gravel beneath. Multicolored Christmas lights are wrapped around the wrought iron railings in honor of the upcoming holiday. A few women smoke in the shadows of the building, seemingly huddling together for warmth.

Inside the room, The wallpaper peels away to reveal yellow-stained drywall beneath and the heating unit rattles when you turn it on, blowing a small cloud of dust into the room. You refuse to peel away the comforter out of fear of what you’ll find, so you toss a blanket overtop instead. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke and artificial lemon is nearly caustic.

You turn the TV on, upping the volume until it’s loud enough to drown out the noise of the heater. The throw beneath you is scratchy and thin, but the bed itself is comfortable enough that you allow yourself to sink into it. With so many miles between you and Valeria, it’s easy to lull yourself into a sense of false security.

You shrug your jacket off to use as a makeshift pillow. It’s a far cry from Valeria’s luxurious bed back in Las Almas, but it’s the best you’ve had in weeks. The steady flow of warm air filling the room thaws the stiff joints in your limbs and loosens the long-held tension in your shoulders. It’s easy to fully settle into the makeshift pillow, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. It’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

It’s pin-drop quiet when you wake up. The constant hum of the heating unit has ceased, though the room has long gone cool. The TV had been shut off, leaving the room completely dark.

You blink away the last bits of sleep from your eyes, willing your vision to focus. Something primal stirs in your gut, fight or flight instincts urging you to move. The darkness comes into focus slowly, the shape of the furniture comes into focus. So does a figure sitting at the foot of the bed.

Your blood freezes in your veins. You push yourself up from the bed, heart pounding in your ears. A firm hand wraps around your upper arm, throwing you back into the mattress. The springs squeak from the force. You kick and thrash in Valeria’s hold, desperate to land at least one hit. You refuse to go down without a fight, not after all you’ve been through. You manage to land a single scratch across her cheek. Blood bubbles up from her skin, smearing onto your fingers and her face when you push her away.

One of her hands pins both your wrists to your sternum as she bears down on you. Her knees press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you in place. You take in a gasping breath, lungs struggling to expand under her weight. For the first time, you get a good look at Valeria and what you see terrifies you. There’s a feral glint to her eyes and not a bit of playfulness in her smile. Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a rabbit.

“You scream and I’ll gut anyone who comes in that door,” Valeria hisses, hand tightening around your wrists as she wraps a zip tie around them. Tears spill from your waterline as composure crumbles. The edge of the tie presses into your skin uncomfortably, but Valeria doesn’t soften at your whining.

“It was a fun chase, sweetheart, but it’s over,” She fishes a small bag from her pants pocket, shaking a small white pill into her palm. Valeria holds it to your lips with one hand, the other pinching your nose shut. You go as long as you can without air, stubbornly clenching your jaw shut until your lungs burn.

Valeria watches with interest, grinning as the seconds tick by. You barely make it a minute before you’re gasping for air. Valeria doesn’t waste a moment before she’s pushing the pill past your lips and pressing her palm over your mouth before you can spit it out. Her fingers still pinch your nose shut, her grip unyielding against the restrained fists that pound against her chest.

“Swallow, baby,” She goads as black creeps into the edges of your vision. By now, the pill is reduced to bitter white chunks on your tongue, but you make a show of swallowing to satisfy her. The reaction is almost instantaneous, her fingers prodding past your lips as you desperately gulp down oxygen. Her fingers taste like sanitizer and lotion as she inspects your gum line and beneath your tongue. You cringe away from her touch but with the bed beneath you, there’s nowhere to go.

When she’s confident you swallowed, she gives you a quick pat on the cheek. The corner of her lips twitch up in only a ghost of a grin before she’s hauling you to your feet and bending you over her lap. You huff, balance thrown off kilter by the sudden movement and lack of oxygen. Valeria’s knee digs uncomfortably into your stomach and ribs. A hand wraps around your upper arm, holding you firmly on her lap.

“You thought I wouldn’t hunt you down?” She asks, free hand trailing down the curve of your spine. Her chipped and jagged nails drag across your skin, leaving raised lines in their wake. Fingers curl around the waistband on your sweatpants, gripping tight. You kick your legs, gritting out empty threats as she pulls them down. She tugs until the cleft of your ass is exposed to the stale air.

“I’m sorry,” You sob into the comforter, tears wetting the scratchy blanket. You sound like a broken record, the apologies spilling from your mouth only broken up by promises to never do it again.

“I don’t believe you,” Valeria coos, a condescending smile playing at her lips. She splays her hand against your ass cheek, lightly pressing into the soft flesh until it dimples beneath her fingertips. Her grip on your arm has tightened enough to be bruising.

The heat between Valeria’s thighs only heightens at the sight of you draped over her lap. Idly, she considers the merits of a more sadistic punishment. Purpled bite marks across your shoulders would certainly remind you who you belong to. Or maybe nice ‘V’ carved into the soft fat of your ass. Both would crush your little attitude beneath her boot. Ultimately, she decides to stow those thoughts away for now, saving them for when you’re back home with her. It’d be easy to go overboard now, with the adrenaline and anger rushing through her bloodstream. For now, she just wants to make you cry.

The first hit comes when you least expect it. The impact sends a ripple through the soft flesh of your ass. Valeria groans lowly at the sight. Your hips jump at the sensation, skin going hot beneath Valeria’s palm. The strike has you screeching, thrashing beneath her in a futile attempt at an escape. You clench and unclench your restrained fists.

“Count.” Her brown irises are swallowed by her dilated pupils, trained in the spot where her hand met your cheek. The heat of your skin bleeds into Valeria’s cold palms, goosebumps popping up across your exposed skin.

“What the fuck?” You squeal, humiliation and fear petering into indignation. It’s not a surprise to Valeria, she’d always known there was a bit of you that needed training. You were impatient, even selfish at times. A wily little thing she enjoyed wrestling into submission. The brattiness was endearing in her own bed, but after the past few weeks, it only stokes her anger.

“Count,” She repeats, a little louder this time. “Count and maybe I won’t fucking chip you.” The twist of anger in your expression has her raising her hand again, coming down in a perfect arc to hit the same spot again. You shriek into the bedding, fingernails sinking into your clammy palms. Valeria’s arm tightens around you, dragging you even further into her lap. “Not gonna do it?” She brings her hand down three more times, alternating which side she hits to keep you on edge. “You think I’m lying? Tracked you down like a fucking dog, tell me why I shouldn’t treat you like one?”

“Won’t do it again, Val,” You sob. “Please, I’m sorry!” Hot tears stream down your flushed face, mixing with the drool smeared across your chin and mouth. Your voice cracks with the force of your crying. Valeria grows impossibly wetter, slick dampening the gusset of her panties.

“Then start counting.” Your fingers claw at the blanket as she strikes you again. There’s no screech or resistance when her palm hits you, just sniffling. The seconds drag by like hours as Valeria waits with bated breath, hungrily watching the tears spill from your eyes.

“ One .” Valeria releases your chin and you press your cheek to the mattress. She groans at your thin voice, hoarse from all your yelling. Her palm rubs soothing circles over the spot she’d just hit, contrasting the rough treatment just seconds prior. A shudder runs up your body at the sensation, eyes screwed shut.

“Good girl,” She murmurs, lips curling into a predatory grin. The next hit has you tensing up beneath her, stammering out a low two . There’s still some resentment buried beneath your submission. It shows in the impudent curl of your lips, the angry furrow of your brow. The quiet whimper that slips your mouth before three is delicious. It appeases Valeria’s growing appetite.

By ten , you’ve run out of tears. The quiet groans spilling from your throat have a knot winding in Valeria’s stomach. Your ass is marred with her handprints, raised marks from the trauma. Come time, they’ll darken into bruises, the sting of red-hot flesh fading to an overwhelming ache. And every time you see them, you’ll be reminded of your mistakes. Valeria loosens her grip on you, knowing you won’t even try to run.

By fifteen , your eyes have glossed over and your thrashing has ceased. The numbers are whispered through gritted teeth between quiet grunts, attitude fully snuffed out by Valeria’s hand. A little pain and you’re her good girl again, all sweet and pliant beneath her. Your inner thighs are dewy with the slick that leaks from you, dribbling down your cunt to your swollen clit.

There’s no resistance as she hauls you to your feet, hands placed beneath your armpits like you’re a doll. You brace your hands on her shoulder, legs too shaky to keep you upright. Valeria tugs your panties and sweatpants up, brushing the bruised curve of your ass too firmly to be accidental. You shift a little, lurching forward to escape the pain.

Valeria grabs you by the hips, dragging you into her lap. You let out a little yelp upon resting your ass against her thighs, the sudden weight against the raw skin overwhelming. For a moment, you hover, but Valeria presses you down firmly, ignoring the way you wriggle away. Once the pain subsides, you practically meld into her, head resting in the crook of her neck as you sniffle. Valeria brushes the hair from your face, damp with tears and cold sweat. Your limbs are loose, heavy with warmth that emanates from the pit of your stomach.

“Why’d you run?” She murmurs, dragging her splayed palms up and down your thighs. When you don’t reply, she tugs your head from the crook of her neck, hand cradling the base of your skull. Valeria studies you with her dark eyes, searching for a flicker of resistance in your lachrymose gaze. She finds nothing. “Hm? What was it?”

“I was scared,” The words slip out before you can consider them. It’s an admission only made more pathetic by your thin voice. Something in Valeria’s gaze shifts as her lips press into a line. Her hand tightens on the back of your neck. The weeks of false composure fracture when faced with her dilated pupils, only a thin rind of warm brown surrounding them. The fear hits you like a cold wave, washing over your body as the words are spilling from your chest.

“I-I didn’t know if it was safe for me to stay,” You stammer out, clenching your hands into fists in an attempt to ward off the tremors overtaking you. “I was worried that maybe they’d come for me next and you wouldn’t be there, Valeria, and I-” The corners of her lips tug up into a smug, satisfied grin and your words are cut short with a stifled sob.

It’s not a lie, but not quite the truth either. Valeria can see it in the split second of hesitation before you speak. There’s fear there, but not fear of her enemies. No, she saw that terror in your wide-eyed gaze when you realized she had been the one to find you.

“Oh, mi vida ,” Valeria coos, a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. Her thumb brushes away the few tears rolling down your face. Her other hand brushes up and down your side, dipping beneath the fabric of your shirt. “You thought you’d be safer running?” You sniffle as she squeezes at the fat of your hip. “This,” She gestures to the room around you with a sardonic chuckle. “This is worse than if you stayed put. I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are.”

“I’m sorry.” You say for the millionth time. It’s the only response your brain can formulate. She’s right, running only left you more vulnerable to people who would use you to reach Valeria. But she doesn’t take your fear of her into consideration, even with the marks spread across your ass cheeks.

“I believe you,” She says, “But it’ll take more than an apology to make me trust you. You understand, right?”

You nod, eyes cast downward in shame.

“Good girl,” She tugs at your lower lip with her thumb. “Missed you s’much, you know?” She purrs, pressing two fingers past your lips. Your jaw widens to accommodate the push of her finger against your tongue. “Was so excited to see my girl. Bet you can imagine how I took the news, hm?” Drool gathers behind your teeth, dripping down your chin as Valeria ‘accidentally’ bumps your gag reflex. You lurch, but her fingers remain firmly hooked in her mouth. You don’t have the energy to resist her, any coherent thought slipping from your grasp before you can make sense of it.

“So pretty like this,” She muses. Valeria adjusts you like a doll, one hand grabbing and moving your limbs until you're straddling her thigh. “You know who owns this cunt, don’t you?” Her other hand grips your hip, rolling it against her muscled thigh. Valeria laughs at your garbled moan as pleasure sparks in your core. “Just my stupid little pet that doesn’t know what’s good for her.”

“M’not,” You slur, fingers curling into the collar of her shirt. She continues the slow pace, occasionally bouncing her knee to relish in your yelps. The heat in your stomach only grows. Electricity shoots up your spine when Valeria perfects the angle, pressing the seam of your pants against your clit just right. You moan around her fingers, lips and chin shiny with spit. In the weeks you spent running, pleasure had been an afterthought. You never had the time or privacy to worry about getting yourself off. The neglect left you swollen, sensitive, and all too receptive to Valeria’s touch.

“Really?” She coos, slowly pulling her fingers from your mouth. They come to rest on your other hip, fingers dampening the fabric beneath them. “Grinding your cunt on me like a dumb mutt, aren’t you?” With a firmer grip on you, she presses your cunt even harder on her thigh, rocking you back and forth. You mindlessly follow her movements, chasing your high.

Valeria studies the pinch of your brow and pitch of moans, watching every minute expression that crosses your face. Your thighs tighten around her own, desperately humping at her. Quiet pants escape your swollen lips, your head hangs low, and your eyes shut. The languid pace is entirely your own, she’s barely moving you along.

When your moans take a higher pitch, fingers tugging at her shirt, she knows you're close. Valeria’s hand comes to pull at your hair, tugging your head back and exposing the bare column of your throat. Her jaw clenches upon noticing your collar’s absence. She meets your wide eyes, your scleras flushed red and pupils dilated. Your pace falters, but Valeria prompts you to keep going with a bounce of her leg.

“Please,” You whimper. “Wanna come.” The desperation in your voice is palpable. It’s pathetic enough to have Valeria pitying you. It’s hard for you to keep your grip on her shirt, your muscles seem to have a mind of their own. Your restrained hands fall to your lap, numb and warm as you continue to grind.

“Yeah?” She taunts. “You wanna cum on my thigh?” Her fingers dance up your shirt, calluses brushing over your fluttering abdomen as she makes her way to your breasts. You part your lips when her fingers toy with your hardened nipples, plucking and twisting the sensitive buds.

“Mhmm,” You nod, eyes fluttering shut. Your tongue is too heavy to form a proper response. By now, your head has gone cottony and light, filled with nothing but Val. It’s hard to even remember how you got into this situation or even recognize the dull ache of your bruised ass on every grind. Her body heat is suffocating, the scent of her perfume leaving you drooling. Valeria can see the distant look in your eyes, so she lets your lack of verbal response slide. She dips her head to your shoulder, pressing wet kisses along the curve of your neck.

“Please,” You manage to wail, repeating the word until your voice gives out on you. Valeria’s teeth glint in the moonlight as you come, nipping at the thin skin above your pulse point. Your wetness soaks the crotch of your panties, leaving them wet and sticky along the curve of your folds. The heat bleeds through your pants, warming Valeria’s thigh.

When your hips stop twitching and your breath slows, you slump into Valeria. The hand beneath your shirt traverses up and down your spine as you hiccup and cry. Shame curdles in your stomach, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. Valeria presses soft kisses to your cheek, slowly making her way to your chapped lips.

The kiss is sloppy and almost entirely one-sided. You struggle to keep up with her, clumsily tilting your head the wrong way and hardly moving your tongue. Her teeth knock against yours. When you cringe away at the sensation, she follows you, biting down on your lower lip hard enough to break skin. Hands wrap around your upper arms hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer to her. She licks along the sharp edges of your teeth, presses her tongue against yours. You squirm and whine through it all, only settling when she pulls away, a string of blood-tinged saliva connecting you.

Satisfaction blooms in Valeria’s chest as she meets your teary eyes. You weeks of planning, the effort spent running, all of it was rendered pointless in a matter of minutes. The regret has your chest tightening, wishing you’d fought harder, bared your teeth. It’s too late, you realize as she heaves you to your feet. There’s no chance at escape with the way the room sways, legs weak beneath you. Valeria anchors you to her side just as you're about to fall, pulling you toward the door. Your mind desperately screams to push her away, but you can’t feel your arms anymore. You stumble and trip over the door frame, only held upright by Valeria’s arm around your waist.

You can’t help but feel like a prisoner approaching the gallows when you see the idling car. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as she drags you forward, ignoring your attempts to dig your heels in. Each step is one step closer back to Las Almas, back to her mansion, to the gilded cage she’ll lock you in. Fear curdles in your stomach, but there’s nothing you can do with Valeria practically pinning you to her side. She pushes you into the car, quickly sliding in next to you and slamming the door shut. The click of the locks cements your fate. Valeria wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close when you try to shuffle away. She barks out orders to the driver. The car shifts gears, quickly leaving the motel and meeting the open road. Valeria murmurs something about going home as your body loosens, her knuckles brushing over your arm. It’s only a matter of minutes before you’re sprawled across the seat, head resting in her lap. The promise of deep, dreamless sleep is irresistable.

Valeria idly brushes the hair from your face, humming a quiet tune just loud enough for you to hear. For a while, she watches you fight to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut adorably each time you do. She smiles when you finally slip away, that pinched, fearful expression finally leaving your pretty face. It’s the culmination of weeks of work, countless outbursts, and more than a few deaths. You gave a good chase, she’ll admit, but she won.

Valeria’s sure once the rohypnol’s effects wane, you’ll be back to your feral self. It won’t be easy to earn your submission, but to her, that’s half the fun. Valeria can already hear the foul threats you’ll grunt out from behind your gag, drool dripping down your chin as you pull against your leash. But that’s trouble for another day, another training session. It’ll take more than one session to fully domesticate you, but Valeria is eager for the work ahead. She’s always enjoyed playing with her food.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #call of duty #.my writing #tw dubcon #tw noncon #just in case #valeria x reader #el sin nombre

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being-addie · 2 years ago

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Morning Routines

We're all looking at those Instagram influencers who somehow manage to wake up at 5 am, do meditation, journal, do a 15-step Korean skincare routine, and go to the gym. And then they make a green smoothie and avocado toast, get dressed in a Chanel outfit and then sit at their fancy desk with a vanilla latte and a croissant.

This is not realistic. You probably already know that, but it likely won't stop you from trying to change your routine bit by bit to look a little like theirs. That didn't stop me, at least.

But now I've come to realise that no matter how much I try, I'll never be able to have a routine like the ones I see online. Because it doesn't exist. It's all curated for aesthetic appeal and generates a sense of false productivity in the watcher's brain. We feel motivated looking at those videos and never get around to changing our own life because we're too busy living vicariously through our phones.

Here's some things you should add to your morning routine, not to be fancy, but to feel better. This is coming from someone who's tried the unrealistic routines, and I now incorporate all of these into my routine. You can skip or add things according to your schedule.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H: Do your body a favour and loosen up your muscles. Nothing better than having a good stretch that wakes your body up.

Drink water: Before you put anything in your system, drink water. Not coffee, not tea. Plain warm water. And I don't mean lemon water. Some people might not agree, but lemon water strips your teeth of the enamel. It also is acidic, so all that bullshit they talk about it being "alkaline and pH balancing" is nonsense. Warm water is the way to go.

Make your bed: A clean bed should be the first thing you do after you wake up. At the end of the day, you'll thank yourself because it will be clean, and fresh and you can fall into bed immediately.

Hygiene: Wash your face to get rid of crusty eyes and sleep. Do a basic skincare routine (cleanser, moisturizer) so you'll feel fresher. Brush your teeth and hair.

Move your body: It doesn't matter what you do, even if it's for 15 minutes. Go for a walk, do a Zumba workout, or squeeze in a HIIT session. You can find lots of tutorials on YouTube (Caroline Girvan, growingannanas, Chloe Ting). Either way, working out will help you feel more motivated and happier. It's the endorphins.

Clean yourself: Set aside some time for showering, slathering on lotion, and doing your (real) skincare and makeup routine. Pick an outfit that makes you feel good about yourself.

Eat something: ALWAYS make some food. Your body has been famished for hours on end, give it some fuel. Make a healthy breakfast, or prep one the night before. If you don't get very hungry in the mornings, have a banana, and pack a mid-morning snack beforehand so you don't reach for chips.

Do 3 things: Make a to-do list of everything you need to do today. Don't overwhelm yourself. Then, knock off 3 easy tasks from the list that you can do quickly. You'll be filled with a sense of motivation, and it'll be easier for you to complete your list. It can be chores, it could be some assigned reading. Just get it done.

Gratitude or prayer: You don't need to sit for 15 minutes to practice gratitude. You can think of things your thankful for on the way to school or work or practice deep breathing/say a small prayer on the subway or bus. You don't HAVE to do it, but it definitely makes you realise how much you have in life and appreciate it more.

Kindness: Start your day with kindness. Compliment your barista, smile at the old lady on the street, pet the stray cat. There's so much love in the world, and you have so much love inside you, and it's beautiful to be a part of it.

No longer will I be stuck in a rut. I cannot be confined to being a bitter, unhealthy person when I know there's a smiling, healthy, happy version of me in the future. Deep breaths. You'll get there babe.

#self care #self improvement #self love #level up #level up journey #self love journey #glow up #college #tips and tricks #it girl #that girl #perfect #life #morning #morning routine

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handspunyarns · 8 months ago

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You Were Marked: Days Twenty-Two to Twenty-Six, Part I.

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C

word count: 5K

chapter summary: Marathel leaves Tatooine.

warnings:  angst, heartbreak, mention of incest, sexual abuse, inbreeding, and suicide, violence to women, English and Mando’a cursing

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***   

You Were Marked: Masterlist

You Were Marked: <- Previous Chapter

It was nearly dawn on Tatooine, and the sky was just beginning to glow a deep pink. Two windows in the palace had their shutters open, and two people were staring out at the sky. It might have interested Din and Marathel to know that their positions nearly matched, and that neither one of them had slept.

Din sat on his bed, his hand lightly resting on Grogu’s warm belly. He’d removed his helmet, so that he could see the true colors of the rising suns. Grogu coughed in his sleep, making Din turn immediately to look at him. Grogu remained asleep, and his breathing went back to normal. Din smiled at the boy, his boy. His boy, who would be losing his Mama again. Din’s smile fell and he went back to watching the sky. He wasn’t sure why he was spending time doing this, but he knew it was preferable to walking down to Marathel’s door and telling her it was time to go.

Give me strength, he prayed to a Maker he didn’t believe in. Help me to not take her back. Help me not hate her for making me do this. He asked his buir, so long gone now, for guidance. Nothing you ever told me prepared me for this. You taught me to fight, negotiate, come up with a plan, live my life as a Mandalorian. You taught me how to be a man. I was out of my element when I took in Grogu, but I had learned by watching you care for me. What am I supposed to do now? Where in the shab is the manual for this situation? What ancient Mando’a chant is there to guide me on this path? I need something, here. And you too, Frith, you not-a-rabbit son of a bitch, tell me what to do about this woman, who believes in you. Din sighed deeply. Clear my mind of what doesn’t matter. Clear my mind of what doesn’t matter. Din continued to study the sky, growing pinker, knowing that regardless, he would go as she demanded, for he loved her, and he felt compelled to do as she wished.

Marathel sat on her bed, her hand lightly resting on the bag she had packed with her new possessions. New clothing, her new blanket she’d been given by Eliadu. All the little tubes of the moisturizers she’d enjoyed so much since she’d been here. The shampoo, the soap for her hair, even though she still didn’t understand its necessity. A new hairbrush that had been used on no one’s hair but her own. The medications from Cieroprac. The yarn and needles she’d received from Cobb at the market, but not the honey or the candy. The two jars of honey had gone into a loaf of dark rich bread and several fruitcakes that were heavier than a Mandalorian’s helmet. The bag of sweets went to Silnima to give to the children, as a gift from her, for she’d enjoyed hearing the happy sounds of children again. Marathel wore the new shoes on her feet, the ones that she’d told Cobb she was not allowed to wear, but she couldn’t not wear the shoes, because they’d been a gift, and to not wear them would be rude, somehow.

Marathel had seen many sunrises. More than I realized, she thought. She surely must have lived long enough to be a natural Diwhyn. Why, why, had she been out there so long, alone? Marathel hadn’t counted the number of times she had taken eggs to the Hold. The Dahls laid every other season, that was, the time between the hot and the cold, and then again in the time between the cold and the hot. How many times she had collected eggs for the Hold, she had no idea. She remembered that the first few times she delivered the eggs to the Hold, she had entered and done the Passing-Over ceremony, which she would have performed when Din took her in, except she had usurped that moment to present herself as the Bishop’s Whyn and admit her guilt at letting someone have her before the Bishop. But those first few times, she delivered the eggs to the Elders themselves, singing the proper part of the only song, wearing the plain knee-length skirt and unadorned tunic of the Changing Girl — the not-yet Whyn, the future cunt. But then … Olba had told her that she didn’t need to do the ceremony anymore; Marathel only needed to bring the eggs to the gate. She had forgotten that.

Thirty years. That must be … such a terribly long time. Why was I left alone? Within walking distance of the Hold? If I were so important to the Bishop … why allow me to live so long at the hut? Was he waiting for me to come back of my own accord? Or had he … forgotten about me?

This thought hurt Marathel in a surprising way. Being forgotten didn’t hurt more than being made a Belwhyn, but still somehow the same. Perhaps she wasn’t important to the Bishop after all. Perhaps, her presenting herself to the Bishop had been … unnecessary?

Before she could process that thought, there was a flurry of light taps on her door. Assuming it to be the Bounty Hunter, Marathel stood and opened the door, to see Cobb standing there with downcast eyes. She fully opened the door and waited. Cobb reached for her hand, raising his eyes to hers, saying, “Please forgive me.”

Marathel allowed Cobb to interlace his fingers into hers. “You’ve done nothing that requires forgiveness.”

“Forgive me anyway, honey, it may be the only way I let you leave this place,” said Cobb, letting go of her hand and drawing her into his arms. “I know Tatooine sucks. I’m sometimes not fond of it myself; too much weird shit happens here on this backwater whirlpool of dust. But it’s a much better place with you here.” He kissed her temple, holding her tightly. “You’re going to go, aren’t you? You’re going to make him take you back.”

“Yes.”

Cobb stepped back from her, dropping his hands, his face pinching with sadness. “Can you … really control him, like he says you can?” asked Cobb, knowing the question sounded ridiculous as he was asking it.

Marathel’s face was decidedly blank as she replied, “I don’t have to control him. He is taking me back because I asked it of him … and he says he loves me.”

Cobb backed up to the doorway, shaking his head. “Right now, at this moment … I hate you, Marathel.”

Marathel sighed, raising her eyebrows. “I know.”

Cobb noticed movement to his right; Din had come down the corridor, resplendent in his armor and weapons, the formidable sight only softened by the little child peeking out of the bag he wore over his shoulder. The two men stared at each other. There were many things both needed to say to each other, but they would remain unsaid. Marathel looked at them and watched a friendship fall apart before her eyes. This, she would greatly regret. She meant to only sever her relationship with them, not the relationships amongst them. Din lowered his gaze from Cobb and turned to her, asking, “Are you ready to go?”

Marathel’s eyes dropped, and her hands went up her sleeves, and both men felt their hearts hurt at her gesture. “May I go to the kitchen and pack some of the bread for our journey?”

Din nodded. “As you wish.” Marathel picked up her bag and brushed the remaining wrinkles from her bedspread. She stepped out of her room, and Cobb smoothly took the heavy bag from her shoulder as she passed between them. Both Din and Cobb turned to watch her go, then they looked back to each other briefly before dropping their eyes to their feet.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Cobb.

Din nodded. After a long moment, Din whispered back, “Me too.” However, neither of them was fully sorry — and neither of them was truly in a forgiving mood — regardless of whether apologies or forgiveness was necessary between them. They both stood silently in their embarrassment and regret, until Marathel reappeared with another bag, this one ostensibly full of bread. Din turned to her, asking, “Ready now?” She nodded, and Din turned away from her and walked down the corridor without a word. Marathel followed about a step and a half behind Din, Cobb silently following behind her. Along the way to the landing tunnel, the solemn procession picked up three more people.

Once they reached the landing tunnel, Din did not pause but went straight to the Crest, opening the back ramp and entering the ship. Marathel turned to the small group that was also awake early this morning, seeing sadness and bewilderment on all their faces. Boba happened to be closest to her, so she addressed him first. “Boba Fett, I am sorry that I did not get to know you better. Thank you for what you have done for me.”

Boba put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “I wish you peace, little sister.” Tears sprung to Marathel’s eyes due to the simple endearment, and she hugged him tightly.

Fennec came next, and as Marathel embraced her, she whispered, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t, and I will never understand why you are.”

“Then I hope someday you’ll forgive me,” said Marathel, before moving on to Silnima, who kissed both her cheeks but didn’t say a word. Last was Cobb, leaning on one hip in the way he had — so like Din —looking down, biting his lip. Marathel put her hands on his cheeks, and softly kissed him on the corner of his mouth. Cobb lifted his sad eyes to hers, and Marathel wiped a tear off his cheek with her thumb before turning and walking up the ramp into the Crest. Din looked briefly at the four sad and confused people Marathel was leaving behind and shut the ramp.

Shortly after, the Crest fired her engines, lifted off, and left the landing tunnel. After the ship was gone, after standing there a long time in silence, Cobb pointed a finger at the open space where the Crest had recently stood. “Did we … just let that happen?” Not receiving an answer, Cobb scrubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Well, dank fucking ferrik.” Cobb sighed, turned to the others, and said, “Who else wants to get drunk and eat a shit-ton of bread?”

Boba said, “I’m for it.” Fennec and Silnima nodded in agreement. So, they did.

Din walked straight down the main section and up the ladder to the cockpit. Marathel tarried behind, taking another look at the ship’s interior, which she had only seen briefly however many days ago. She had no memory of the days she’d spent onboard coming to Tatooine. In the cockpit, Din flipped the power switches, and all the lights and machinery came to life, startling Marathel briefly, but nowhere near as badly as she’d been frightened the first time Din brought her in here … the day after we met. How long ago was that? There were green lights, and blue lights, and red ones too, and these felt familiar now to her. Even the vac tube before her had a familiarity … although she was concerned about it being right out in the open. And it didn’t have a seat, unlike the one she had access to at the palace. She briefly mused on how the two — well, three, actually — were going to maneuver bodily functions on this journey.

“Marathel, we need to take off, so come up here,” Din called from above her. First things first, I suppose, thought Marathel, and she climbed the ladder, carefully stepping off into the cockpit as Din continued with his switches and buttons. He quickly looked at her over his shoulder. “Sit there,” he said, nodding his head at the aft chair. “Strap in, so we can go.”

Marathel quickly sat — Din was sounding quite snappish, and she didn’t want to anger him — but looked around her, trying to figure out what a strap was. Din took another look at her, impatient now. He set Grogu on the console, unclipped his straps with a huff, and stood, grabbing the strap ends above her shoulders, pulling them brusquely over her head and snapping them closed into the buckles by her hips, grazing her hips with his thumbs. “Thank you,” said Marathel in a small voice. With a grunt, Din sat again, and put Grogu back in his lap. Marathel noticed that Din didn’t strap himself back in, which she thought was odd, but what did she know? “I could hold Grogu for you.”

“He’s fine where he is.” Din fired up the engines, and the Crest rocked for a few moments, but then slowly lifted off, and left the landing tunnel.

Marathel clutched the armrests of her seat for a moment. She suddenly realized that she had left the palace behind, left the people inside behind, would never see them again, and she was wracked by guilt for hurting them so. Oh, I’m so sorry, she told them one more time. For all her talk of going back to Unmanarall, now that the time had come to leave, it was so much harder to do than she anticipated. Marathel bit her lip, trying to not cry. She waited for Din to take the ship up and into the darkness, but he kept flying relatively low to the ground. After some time, Din brought the Crest into a large yard that was littered with metal hulks and small droids scuttling back and forth. Din lowered the ship back to the ground. “What’s … what’s happening?” asked Marathel.

“Need to refuel.”

Oh, thought Marathel, as Grogu shouted, “Peh-EE!”

Din chuckled as he stood, saying, “Yeah, kid, we’re going to see Peli. Good job with the name!” Looking at Marathel, his tone changed to annoyance as he said, “Refueling will take a little while, so you might as well get up.” Din reached by her hips, pressing the buttons that released the straps holding her to the chair. He immediately went down the ladder with Grogu, leaving Marathel to struggle with the safety straps, and then the ladder down out of the cockpit.

Din had just pressed the button to lower the ramp when Grogu frowned and asked, “Mama?”

“You want to wait for Mar … Mama?” asked Din, sighing. “Okay.” Din put the boy down, looking over to see Marathel coming down the ladder, so he headed down the ramp by himself.

Peli had come out when she noticed it was the Crest landing. “Now, where are you headed?” she asked when Din reached her.

Din snorted. “Taxi service, again.”

“Whaddya mean by that? And where’s Little Bug?”

“With her. Are you gonna fuel up the Crest or not?”

“‘With her’, who? Kriff, Mando, who pissed in your caf this morning?”

“Haar’chak. Never mind, I’ll do it my damn self.” Din stalked off, sweeping a droid away with his boot like Marathel sweeping away a chook, irritated, mostly with himself, because he was being a boor and he knew it.

Peli looked up at the open rear door to see a tall woman, a bit heavyset, wearing what looked like Imp uniform cast-offs, holding Grogu. Well, I’ll be. That must be her. The not-my-lady-friend.

As Marathel came down the ramp, Peli’s first impression of her was that fear and misery rolled off the woman in waves. Her second impression was that Marathel rather looked like a proper mother to that little green boy. Her third impression was that she was so glad that Mando did not prefer far-too-skinny women of the standard pneumatic variety, in either hairstyle or body implants … it made her think that even her fat ass and smart mouth had a chance at some decent person. Peli smiled and mused on how exquisite this Marathel must look, standing next to Din, with her statuesque figure, fair skin, and long silver hair. Oh, she’s lovely!

“You’re Mahr? Mando’s … oh, what was it … Marathel? Well, look at you, up and walking around! Poor thing, coming in here all banged up like a stormtrooper’s speeder like you did, Maker, did you ever make a mess! Well, c’mon, get closer so I can get a good look at you and get at my little green niblet!” happily cried Peli, reaching for Grogu. “I don’t bite! Well, sometimes I might, but you’re not a nerf herder, so you’re safe. C’mon, now!”

Marathel’s head tilted slightly at the sight of this woman beckoning to her, wearing a suit like Din, hair bushier than an ap Captain, and missing teeth … just like her. And Mando? Another person that calls him Mando. He has many names, this one man. Marathel came to where Peli stood under an awning. “Hello …?”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry, I’m Peli,” she said, patting her hand. “I keep that boat of Mando’s flying for very affordable prices…” — Peli shouted this last bit — “… but I also am the official auntie of this little guy!” Peli took Grogu from Marathel. “Dank ferrik, what is Mando so worked up about? He’s grumpier than a nerf herder who’s been bit!”

Grogu pointed to Marathel, and told Peli, “Mama.”

“’Mama’? He’s irate about ‘Mama’?” Peli’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “It’s ‘Mama’ now? Well, congratulations! I never would have thought Mando would take that plunge …”

“He just started calling her that a few days ago,” said Din flatly, dragging a heavy hose around the back of the Crest.

Peli’s face went slightly pink. “Hmm. Just landed myself right in the Bantha flop with that one, didn’t I? Sorry about that. So where are you all heading, missy? Nevarro? Naboo? Canto? Lots of wedding chapels there,” said Peli, the last bit in a whispered undertone.

“Back to my planet,” said Marathel.

“Back to your … now why in a siluran’s spleen would you go back there? They didn’t exactly let you leave there in one piece, you know! No no no, no, you know better than that! You’re pretty, you’re obviously smart, the teeth you still got look really good, and this little guy likes you and so does Mando, I can tell. Why would you do a thing like that?”

“Because … because …” Marathel lost her ability to speak.

Peli frowned and gently stroked Marathel’s upper back. Her friend’s kid was a kitchen worker at the daimyo’s palace, and had told her many things about Marathel, some of which were very hard to hear. Now, having a face to put to the name, especially this poor soul with the horrible gash on her face, unfortunately made the horrors more real. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t …”

“Because I’m an inbred incestuous whore c-c-c …” Marathel did not know why she stammered cunt to this woman, when she had said it so blithely to both Din and Cobb, almost taunting them.

“Now you stop right there. I don’t want you calling yourself that! No one should have that as a name,” said Peli, giving Marathel a little shake. “And the rest of that … is just a lot to unpack, sweetie, so give me a moment.” Peli paused, allowing Marathel to wonder why Tatooine residents liked to give silly names to people. “As far as the first word is concerned, you had no choice on who brought you into this galaxy … so that’s not your fault, you can’t help that. The second word … I know there’s species out there that prefer it, but for us humans, that’s just a no-go, and for you, still not your fault.

“The third word … look, there are those who say that’s not a dirty word, so long as you made it your choice to earn that distinction, then take pride in it and make it fun and profitable for you! And if that had been your choice then I would have supported you 100%! I would have been your kriffing cheerleader!” This made Marathel smile, which made Peli smile. You picked a nice one, Mando, and you were right, I do like her. “But you didn’t choose that, did you? So that’s another name no one should have, unless they earned it on their own terms. And you didn’t, so that’s not your fault, again!

“And as a reason to go back to a place they tried awful hard to make you lose all your blood … that’s just a piss-poor reason, Marathel. I don’t even know you and I know that’s womp-whacky. And do you think Mando would let you hold little squishy here if he thought you were a bad person? Would he be bothered that your family tree is ... well, more like a stick? No, I don’t think so. Worried, more likely. Hey, I just met you and I already like you too much, to let you do something ridiculous like that. I don’t know what you told those numb-nuts at the palace, but I don’t think you can convince me.” Peli spit into the sand.

Marathel stood astounded at this woman, who apparently could breathe and speak at the same time. “I … it’s because of rwy’n di’rugar.”

“What the Trandoshan tushy is roo-een die-ruh-gahr?”

“’My heart breaks to keep them safe.’”

Peli looked at Marathel, frowning. “Huh. I suddenly have more respect for you. Look, missy …” Peli came up close to Marathel, looking at the horrible wound on Marathel’s face. “I can see it in your face. I can see it in both of you. You two are pinging off each other like hyperspace atoms. I can hear it from across the room, for kriffing out loud. Whoever you are, whatever you got, it seems like Mando accepts it.”

“He shouldn’t have to just … accept it. He should have better than that,” said Marathel quietly, her eyes downcast.

Peli pursed her mouth, and patted Marathel’s arm. “Hey. It’s like my old man used to say, ‘you usually get what you want, and what you need … so long as you don’t get what you deserve.” Peli clicked her tongue, and said, “You know, you two have almost five days alone together on this trip. Maybe you can work it out.”

“Five … five days?”

“Yeah, five days, that’s what I saw on the flight recorder after he brought you in. Ship was a wreck. He was a wreck. Mando slept for fourteen hours after Boba got the Crest here, and he still couldn’t walk straight, what with the knock he got on his head and trying to keep you alive.”

“He flies, out there, just him and Grogu … for days at a time?”

“Kriff, sweetie, for months; they live in this thing.”

Marathel hadn’t considered either the length of time she and Din would be alone together, or how long Din flew alone, with only the child for company. How long was he alone before then? How many of those ‘years’ were without the benefit of Grogu? “Peli … you help keep his ship flying?”

“You bet I do.”

Marathel hugged Peli, squeezing her hard, and kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you for keeping him safe. Please keep him safe. Please keep that thing working. Please keep looking after him, and Grogu.”

“Aw, sweetie, you could do a much better job of that than me.” Peli pulled back, noticing that Din was dragging the fuel hose back. “I wasn’t kidding, your trip back ‘home’ is almost five days. You’ll have time to think. A lot. And you get a lot of one-on-one time with my pudge-pot here! I’m jealous. Not really. Long hyperspace trips make me itch more than my Jawa ex-boyfriend. So furry. Soooooooo furry.”

Marathel, confused by the lack of dissent on Peli’s part, asked, “Do you like bread?”

“Do I like bread? You mean real bread? Not the flat crap I bake on an engine block? Hell, yeah, I like bread.”

“Then let me give you some bread I baked last night.” Marathel went back up into the Crest as Din came over to Peli to settle up for the cost of the fuel.

“Nice lady, Mando. You were right, I do like her. Now you tell me why you’re taking her back,” said Peli in a low tone.

Din shrugged as he parceled out credits. “She asked me to.” Just like she told me to leave my weapons behind. Like she told me to be still.

Peli frowned. “Yeah, I don’t buy that. And you don’t buy that either. At least not deep down.” Peli turned to see Marathel returning with two loaves of bread. “But like I told your lovely lady friend, you have a few days alone together to figure it out and come up with a new answer.”

Din looked at Peli for a few moments, thinking about the stretch of time before the two of them. “We should go,” he said, taking Grogu from Peli. “Thank you, Peli.”

Marathel arrived just then, holding out two large round loaves to Peli. “I thank you too, Peli.”

“You’re welcome, Marathel. Come by for a visit next time you’re in town.” Peli ripped off a piece of bread and shoved it into her mouth. “Oh, that bread is better than sex in the back of a pod racer with no shock cushions.”

Marathel chuckled, but Din shook his head and started back to the ship. Peli took Marathel’s hand. “You’re a smart cookie, Marathel. You’ll figure it out. Thanks for the bread. I’ll be expecting more when you come back.”

Marathel frowned, saying, “But… I’m not coming back, Peli.”

“Eh, I like playing on long odds. Now go; Mister Mando Grumpypants is waiting for you.”

Marathel, confused, went back to the ship. Din was checking a couple of lighted panels on the wall. “I like Peli,” said Marathel, and Din grunted in response. The early rising suns were coming into the yard at an oblique angle, reflecting in tiny prisms off the metal floor of the Crest. Marathel squatted down and ran her finger along the floor. “What is all this stuff?”

Din closed the panel and turned to her. “What are you talking about?”

Marathel stood, pieces of glitter on her palm. “These … little flakes of shiny something. So tiny and thin, but they sparkle! And they seem to be everywhere!”

Din grimaced under his helmet. Despite him cleaning the ship twice since he and Grogu were utterly polluted with glitter while on Coruscant, both by broken bottles of glittered sex lube and the naked bosoms of casino showgirls, the kriffing stuff was still sticking to every horizontal surface. “That is … metal dust from the ship.”

“Dust? Metal dust? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Oh, this one is pink.”

“I … can’t see colors in the helmet.” This was the most ridiculous thing Din could have ever lied to her about, and why he did, he had no idea. He groaned inwardly. “We should go,” he said, passing by Marathel to shut the ramp. Marathel climbed up the ladder to the cockpit, but she misplaced her foot on a top rung and slipped. In a flash, Din was under her, his hands on her thighs, ready to catch her, and right above his head was Marathel’s … magnificent ass. Oh, haar’chak, what a view. One hand began sliding up her leg before he asked, “Are you all right?”

Marathel froze in place, saying, “I’m not hurt. I just … slipped.” She climbed back up, away from his hands, and stepped off into the cockpit. Grogu hopped up without using the ladder, and Din finally climbed up himself.

By the time he got up there, Marathel was already seated, pulling the safety straps over her head. Din sat, clicked his safety belts in place, and started the pre-flight check. “Hop up here, Grogu,” he said, but Grogu did not comply, preferring to snuggle on Marathel’s lap. Din looked back at her and sighed. “Hold on to him tight; we might bounce a bit leaving the atmosphere. Ready to go?”

“Yes,” replied Marathel, not sounding sure of herself at all. She held tightly to Grogu as Din did whatever he did to fly this metal box, this tiny metal box that kept all of them from flying into space and dying. The Crest lifted, leaving Peli’s yard, and began its upward trajectory through the sky, which got darker the further they went up. The ship did bounce slightly, but Din controlled the ship so well, Marathel scarcely felt it. Din banked the Crest so they could easily leave the atmosphere, and Marathel briefly saw the curvature of Tatooine as they pulled away. I’ve left, I’ve left, I’ve left them behind, thought Marathel, her throat thick with tears and regret. She swallowed the apparent hairball she had in her craw, thinking, five days. Five days alone with him in a tiny metal box where I can’t escape him.

Din began the calculations for hyperspace, entering the coordinates of Unmanarall. Five days, he thought. I have five days to make her change her mind. Din pulled the throttle, and the Razor Crest shot into hyperspace.

Next Chapter ->

#the mandalorian angst #din djarin angst #mando angst #the mandalorian fluff #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #pedrostories #mando x female oc #mando x plus size oc #mando x afab oc #peli motto

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dotchi18 · 1 month ago

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You accept the Plate.

Leader gives you a smile as you feel the warmth of it in your fingers, digging into the dish as the savory flavors greet your tongue, perfectly filling you.

The dish is so delicious that you feel giddy.

Any uncertainty you had felt about your safety in this forest vanishes more and more with every bite until your plate is empty.

You feel like there is nothing that can harm you at all, nothing for miles.

Lights seem to dance up from the fire and seems to tangle in the trees, blooming like fans on their sides, Leader tilting their head from side to side again, your eyes following them as they did so.

" They like you, don't they, Friend?

It makes a lot of sense, as you are a Friend."

They stated the obvious as if it needed to be said again, giggles coming from the other followers and seemingly echoing around you throughout the forest.

The more you watch those around you, the more the bandages around their heads seem to bleed into their flesh, as if actually a part of them.

Leader scoot close to you, helping you lean back against the roots of a tree as you're filled with awe at the fans bloomed on the bark of the tree you rested against.

The more you looked, the more you realized the fans weren't actually fans, but bioluminescent mushrooms as they seemed to bathe the clearing in even more light, as if making a haven for you.

" You are safe with us Friend.

You should rest. We shall set out all together in the morning, and we shall ask the Mushroom Merchant if they know about the trinket you seek." Leader reached into their backpack, leaving yours untouched as they brought out a thin blanket, draping it over you as if a magic spell making your eyes feel so heavy.

Yes, you must sleep...

You are the safest person in the world, after all.

The next morning, you awaken just before the sun arose the sky a pallid blue.

The others were awake as it was unknown as to whether or not they even slept at all.

The warmth of the previous night is still with you as you sit up in the roots, only to receive another warm plate from Leader.

Having already accepted the first one, you find it would be rude not to eat the second one, cleaning the plate again, much to the happiness of Leader and the others as they clean up the campsite, not even letting you lift a finger.

You had not expected to feel so accommodated in the Deep Forest, and the thought makes you giggle, which sets off the others as they laugh and giggle, euphoria heavy in the air.

You notice as you start to walk a humming in the air.

Not as if someone was actually humming, but like the whole world around you was doing it, and you feel like you couldn't be possibly be imagining it as Leader and the Followers hum along with it.

You try to copy them, but it seems like you're a beat behind them, who are in near-perfect sync with it.

The trek continues for most of the day, but instead of stopping for camp at any point, Leader simply has everyone slow down and eat from their packs.

" We are close, after all." Leader mentions, your excitement blooming into an anxiety, hiking up as you notice mushrooms lining a beaten path.

You hear a waterfall, and soon come into a clearing.

It is completely shaded from the sun above, moisture heavy in the air as mushrooms of all kinds seem to ring the clearing.

The anxiety you had bleeds away as you notice there was a kind of wall of stone, the river sounding more to the right as there was a shallow cave in the stone in kind of a half-circle, big crates lining the half circle.

To the crate in the furthest left was a person whom was humming.

Unlike with Leader and the Followers, their humming was completely on point, not even a second behind.

However, they stopped humming at the arrival of you and the others.

This was the Mushroom Merchant.

And you couldn't help but feel a bit... underwhelmed?

Perhaps that was not the right word, but for someone that had those that worked for them tie their eyes shut, they seemed awfully generic.

Smooth pale skin, short brown hair with bangs that grew so completely over their eyes you couldn't see them, and a shorter than average stature to them as they wore merchant gear you could see in every town, including but not limited to fingerless gloves and a trench coat.

The only thing out of place on them seemed to be their hat, a wide-brimmed mushroom hat of brown that dusted with purple at the top.

However, they smiled, and when they spoke, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with feelings.

Was it what you ate, or something they did, or did it sound like they weren't supposed to talk at all?

" Welcome, Leader, Followers." They greeted with a smile, " I see you have brought more Customers."

" A Friend." Leader clarified, with their mouth stretched in a smile as if they were being acknowledged by a God.

" A Friend?" They set their hand on the crate they were checking, their face turned completely to you, as if observing you with a charming smile, " Even better. Come, Friend."

They gestured to the crates, walking to the middle of the half circle to a table, setting a hand on a worn leather-bound journal, scooping it up and placing it in their coat.

" People call me the Mushroom Merchant, but Friends may call me Psy.

Look at my wares, perhaps we have something you want."

Tags: @abrokecupoftea, @one-really-annoying-tree-rat

#yandere male #original yandere characters #Leader Oc #Psy the Mushroom Merchant #Part 9

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starlit-hopes-and-dreams · 2 years ago

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Chapter 9 ~ Deadly games

Hidden Depths AU

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Genre: Fantasy whump

CWs: interrogation, intimidation tactics, knife to throat, lady whump

WC: 3506

Taglist: @kixngiggles , @dont-touch-my-soup

A/N: Look at that, the warnings are still shrinking :D

That means good things. Right? Right. Glad we agree to disagree.

Resh

When he opened his eyes and saw the bars, Resh clenched his jaw. It had all been a dream. A really fucking awful one.

He took a deep breath, trying to work some moisture back into his cotton-dry mouth. It didn’t matter that the dream had ended with Marcus’ death and their escape. Good things, yes, but not worth the price Carr had paid for them.

It wasn’t until he sat up, wincing at the way the movement pulled sore muscles, that he realized he didn’t recognize this cell. Or the area beyond it. There was no stone, no brick, just hard-packed dirt. Even the light was wrong; not the flicker of torchlight, but the steady rippling flame of an oil lamp.

A dull throbbing took up residence in his head. The pain was different from his reaction headaches, and Resh rubbed his temples. Well, attempted to. His right arm was trapped in something. A sling? When had that happened?

In addition, someone had changed his clothing. Instead of the gray prison uniform, he found himself wearing soft cotton sleep pants and a loose cream tunic. The ties at the neck were undone, leaving a deep vee of exposed skin under the lacing.

Well, that was just perfect. Resh was absolutely thrilled to learn he’d been undressed and cleaned up like some kind of doll. His cheeks burned while he awkwardly grasped the ties and pulled them taut.

The sleeve of his left arm fell to his elbow in the process, revealing strips of clean white linen wrapped around his wrist. His brow wrinkled. He didn’t understand why someone had gone to all this effort to clean him up and dress his wounds. Not when he was likely about to die, based on his current location.

Which was a different kind of puzzle.

Last he remembered, he’d… been given something to drink, and… he thought he’d been in a room with Carr and Nykim. He leaned back against the dirt wall and stared blankly out through the bars.

Dry mouth, dull headache. Nasty taste on the back of his tongue. Resh wrinkled his nose. They’d drugged him. Drugged him and dumped him in a cell. He closed his eyes and tried to push back the despair hovering over him. Honestly, this was probably better than he deserved.

Only one question remained.

Would they leave him here to rot, or would Nykim have mercy and slit his throat?

He must’ve fallen asleep again because the squeal of unoiled hinges jolted him upright. Through bleary eyes, he looked up at the man standing in the open doorway.

“Come with me,” Nykim said. The lamp he carried cast sinister shadows upon the sharp planes of his face.

Every muscle in Resh’s body locked up at the weight that hung behind the thief master’s words. This was it then. Nykim was going to… take care of him.

He thought he’d accepted his death as inevitable. But now that it was standing here, staring him in the face–

A booted foot tapped, releasing a plume of dust from the ground.

Resh couldn’t move.

“Mother’s fucking cunt, don’t make me drag you out of there,” Nykim snapped.

“Least I figured out where Carr picked up her creative insults,” he muttered, forcing his stiff muscles to move before the choice was taken from him.

Nykim snorted. “Carr came to the pack with that dirty ass mouth on her, don’t you worry. Twelve years old, or thereabouts, and already spewing the worst language I’ve ever heard in my life.” He turned and walked down the hall, and Resh reluctantly followed.

They walked for a bit, turned right, then left. On and on. There was plenty of time for him to imagine a tiny Carr running around this place, spitting curses at anyone who looked at her wrong. The thought had him cracking a smile for a moment.

Eventually, Resh lost track of how many turns, sharp curves, and long halls they’d traversed. It was a fucking warren down here. He definitely wasn’t escaping, that was for sure.

Nykim turned a final corner and stopped. Just following blindly at this point, Resh walked right past him before he realized Nykim was no longer in front of him. He stopped abruptly and looked around.

It seemed he’d unknowingly walked straight into some kind of chamber. A small wooden table with two stools on opposite sides sat a few feet in front of him. A handheld oil lamp provided the only light in the room. Its dimly lit wick left everything but a small circle around the table in shadow.

“Sit.” Nykim’s voice was as dark as the rest of the room.

Resh suppressed a shudder, wondering why he needed to sit to have his throat slit. It didn’t matter, he supposed. He squared his shoulders and walked to the other side of the table. But instead of sitting, he braced himself with his left hand and leaned over the surface, meeting Nykim’s glacial gaze.

“How is Carr?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Nykim said as he approached, fingers dancing over the hilt of a dagger strapped to his thigh. “Now sit the fuck down. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

Glaring, Resh sat. “The least you could do before you kill me is let me know if she’s going to live or not.”

The hard lines of Nykim’s face softened. Just the tiniest bit, but Resh caught it before the man stepped back, fading into the shadows.

“She’ll recover.”

Resh snapped his head to the side, following the sound of his voice. He could see nothing.

From somewhere behind him this time, Nykim said, “So you’re prepared for your death, then?”

“I would prefer not to be,” Resh replied stiffly. He looked at the oil lamp, wondering if he had the nerve to turn it up. Wondering if he really wanted to see what the rest of this room held.

“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

Breathe. He still needed to breathe. For now. Fuck, this was disconcerting. “Between you and the royal guards who are likely out for my blood, I suspect I may get a cleaner death at your hands.”

A rasping chuckle sent a shiver down Resh’s spine. “Bold of you to assume such a thing.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He blew out a breath, flattening his hand on the table. The back of his neck prickled.

There was a long silence before Nykim spoke again. “Are you not going to beg for your life, then?”

“I don’t have the feeling it would get me far. Although, you’ll probably get some begging if you decide to torture me first. It’ll be like I never left the prince’s dungeon.” Resh craned his head around, a spark of irritation lighting in his chest. “Is that the kind of man you are, Nykim?”

Hands slammed down on the table before him, and Resh whipped around so fast he set off a chain reaction of muscle spasms from his neck down to his back. He clenched his teeth against the bolts of pain radiating down his spine.

Nykim’s face could’ve been carved from stone. Any hint of softness Resh thought he’d seen before was gone.

“I am the kind of man I need to be.”

For what? Resh wondered, cocking an eyebrow. He kept his hand flat on the table. If he moved it, it would tremble, and he refused to show weakness right now. Not when Nykim looked like that. One wrong move, and he might find himself with that dagger sticking out of his chest.

A knife piercing his lung didn’t sound like a great way to die. A slit throat wasn’t all that pleasant either, but at least it was fairly quick. Or maybe he’d hit his heart; the man was a professional, after all. How long did it take to die from that?

The seconds stretched on, each one feeling like its own separate lifetime. Resh barely dared blink. Each scenario of death that flashed through his mind seemed worse than the last.

Finally, Nykim sighed and drew his dagger. Resh stiffened, but all he did was lay it on the table and take a seat.

Drawing his finger down the flat of the blade, Nykim said, “I need to know what kind of man you are, Resh.”

Carr

Her door was unlocked. Thank fucking gods. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve done if it hadn’t been.

Before she left, Carr crawled over to the chest at the foot of her bed. A quick rummage turned up a pair of pants, which she pulled on under Nykim’s jacket. She briefly contemplated putting on a shirt but decided it wasn’t worth it, not when she’d also have to bind her chest. She simply didn’t have the energy to spare.

Anyway, the jacket was big enough that no one roaming the house would be able to tell anything. Damn thing swamped her. She’d had to roll up the sleeves several times to even see her hands.

The very fucking fun part was how she was going to remain standing.

After a few failures, one of which had resulted in a nasty bump to the head when she’d actually passed out, she finally convinced her body it could stay upright.

Now to find Resh.

Clutching the wall for dear life, Carr limped down the hall. When she got to Nykim’s office, she didn’t bother knocking. She was pissed he’d taken Resh from her room, and he would certainly hear about it.

A little niggling worm of doubt squirmed in the back of her mind. Why should Nykim care if she was pissed? He knew she’d been lying to him. And it wasn’t like it was a small, insignificant lie.

Women in active pack roles were so rare as to be almost nonexistent. Most of the men thought they served a better purpose elsewhere. She should know, having been privy to all kinds of those nasty conversations.

Sometimes she could ignore the implications. Other times, someone ended up with a new… gift. Lodged in their body. Carr smiled; those ass lickers deserved more, but as a beta, she had to try not to start pack wars. Fortunately, Nykim seemed to be amused by her unpredictable behavior. Said it kept the other packs on their toes. Besides, they did get to keep whatever blade Carr threw at them. They should be thankful, really.

The smile faded as she stepped into the room. She doubted his tolerance stretched this far. He didn’t appreciate being deceived. Not at all.

She shook her head, both at her own thoughts and at Nykim’s dark office. Weak rays of early morning sunlight struggled to illuminate the space, but it was enough to see that it was empty.

Maybe… maybe Resh had woken before her and had been hungry. Or wanted to clean up. There were no other rooms on this floor he could be in. Nykim would never take Resh to his private quarters, and the remaining sleeping chambers belonged to the other betas.

After checking the bathing room–also empty–Carr sat at the top of the stairs, trying to catch her breath. A sick feeling pooled in her stomach. The kind of feeling that told her something was off. Wrong. Biting her lip, she sorted through her options.

There was the kitchen. Several small rooms on the first floor that served in multiple capacities. The stable, where the vermin slept.

The burrows.

A floorboard squeaked behind her, and Carr spun, raising the dagger she had clenched in her left hand.

“Whoa there,” Quinten said, holding up his hands. “Didn’t realize you were back, Carr. Took ya fucking long enough, ‘s been busy round here.”

The other beta ruffled his unruly mop of brown curls with a wry, sleepy grin. He wore nothing but sleep pants, looking like he’d just woken and rolled out of bed.

Still, he was a beta for a reason, and Carr watched as his eyes flicked up and down. Assessing her, looking for weaknesses. She scowled, then set the tip of her dagger to the floor, idly spinning it. Creating a little groove in the wood.

“Just got back,” she said. Her voice was rough, hoarse. It grated through her sore throat.

“You sound like shit,” Quentin remarked, but he still took a cautious step back. “You look even worse. I was gonna use the bathing room, but uh, do you want it first?”

“No.” Carr turned back around, acting like she was just sitting on the top of the stairs, thinking or some shit.

Presenting the other beta with her back was a calculated move. Part insult, part leave me the fuck alone, and part please don’t notice how fucking weak I am.

Quinten huffed, but Carr thought it sounded more amused than irritated. “Glad to have you back.”

No other floorboards squeaked. Only the click of the latch on the bathing room door announced she was alone once more.

Glad to have her back? Quinten was one of the better betas and one of the few pack members she held a level of respect for. Aloof but direct with his opinions. Level-headed. Not a piece of shit, basically. He didn’t usually run around spouting lies.

Irrationally irritated he’d chosen now to start, she began scooting down the stairs, keeping an eye out for any others. The night crew could return at any time, trickling in one by one to avoid drawing too much attention.

But no one else appeared, and Carr made it safely to the bottom of the stairs. She sat there for a moment, listening.

No movement, no conversation, no whisper of breath reached her ears.

Fucking pits.

There was the smallest chance Brant or Nykim had thrown Resh out to sleep in the stables. But more than likely, she’d find him underground.

The maze of tunnels she’d helped Nykim carve out with elemental earth had multiple areas serving various purposes. Cells to imprison rivals or recalcitrant pack members. Private meeting rooms to discuss the more sensitive jobs. Interrogation rooms. Places to take out the trash, so to speak.

The sick feeling in her gut intensified. Nykim had taken Resh to the burrows. She was sure of it. He didn’t know him; Resh was just some man who had been convicted of an unknown crime and happened to be in the torture chamber with her.

It was why she’d insisted he stay with her last night. Lot of good that had done.

Sonofa cuntstruck knob gobbler.

Carr tried not to cry while she forced herself to her feet. She was gonna fucking kill Nykim if he’d harmed Resh.

Nykim

Nykim retreated back into the shadows again. Resh didn’t like it much–he could tell by the tense set of his shoulders.

And yet.

The kid stayed seated at the table. Didn’t beg, didn’t whine, didn’t complain. Answered every question Nykim threw at him.

The occasional sharp edge to his answers was understandable. Nykim actually respected him more for it.

What the fuck was taking Brant so long? He needed to verify the kid’s backstory.

Resh couldn’t be telling the truth. No one as pure-hearted as this boy would be able to look at what Carr had done to Marcus and not run screaming into the hills.

But he had been fucking holding her. Holding her! While she fucking fell apart. Nykim paced silently, watching Resh like a hawk the entire time.

Carr didn’t fall apart. Carr didn’t accept comfort from anyone. But she had from Resh.

He narrowed his eyes at the thought. It meant something. But what? That was the question.

“Let’s say I do let you live. You can’t stay in the city. Fuck, you can’t stay in Elysia. You’d have to cross over to Va’ahl if you wanted to escape the manhunt that’ll be sent after you,” Nykim said, prowling behind Resh’s back.

“Carr can’t stay here either if that’s the case,” Resh said. “I can travel with her, make sure she gets over the bridge.”

Nykim scoffed. “Sure. ‘Cuz she needs so much help.”

Resh stayed silent, but his shoulders hunched inward just a bit. Good. He knew she didn’t need him, then. But then the kid spoke up, surprising him.

“Carr needs more help than you realize.” Resh sat up straight, staring into the darkness before him. He hadn’t bothered to twist his head toward Nykim’s voice for some time now.

Nykim circled around until he could see the boy’s face. “How so?”

“She has… trouble breathing, sometimes. I’m sure there’s some kind of history I’m not aware of, but even if she’d led a charmed life until now, the last three months have been anything but. She’s been stabbed. Had bones broken. Whipped. Attacked, twice now. She’s not okay, Nykim.”

Fuck. Fuck! Nykim clenched his hands so tight his knuckles popped. Some of that wasn’t exactly surprising. It didn’t make him happy to hear, but it was a prison, and she was small, what some might assume to be an easy target. But while she could easily hold her own, if someone took her by surprise… and then there was Marcus.

It had been too much to hope she’d killed the fucker before anything happened. Fucking shit.

“You were there for both… attacks?”

Resh lowered his head. His hand closed into a fist atop the table.

Godsdamnit. A swell of rage rose, and in the next moment, Nykim found himself behind Resh, one hand buried in his hair, pulling his head back. His dagger rested against his exposed throat.

“And what role did you play in these attacks, hmm?”

Swallowing, Resh said, “Not enough of one. Especially for the last one.” A tear slid down his temple.

Nykim almost slit his throat for that. Almost.

But he had dressed Resh’s wrists while he was out of it. The manacles had cut almost to the bone, and he’d been compelled to heal some of the damage. Fucking mage sense was a pain in the ass.

Resh had tried to get to her. Had tried really hard, with no regard for the damage he was inflicting on himself. That wasn’t the mark of some random prisoner who just happened to be in the torture chamber while Marcus had his fun.

Pure fury vibrated through his very being, and Nykim pulled away before he accidentally killed the kid.

A cough from the doorway announced Brant’s return. Clenching his jaw, Nykim stalked out into the hall to receive his report.

When he returned, Resh was leaning over the table with his hand covering his eyes.

Shrouded by darkness, Nykim leaned against the wall, thinking. If he sent Resh away with Carr, and they traveled to Va’ahl, how much did it matter if the boy knew of his magic? The only real danger lay in them being recaptured, but if that happened, he sincerely doubted the guard would be trying to get any information from the pair before killing them.

Gut feeling told him the kid was genuine. That he cared for Carr. It was obvious Carr cared about him too.

Nykim rubbed his chest; he’d never had a chance with her, not really. Neither he nor Carr could trust at the level required for a relationship. Fuck, he wasn’t certain Carr was even interested in any kind of relationship. Still hurt, though.

“What are your intentions with Carr?” He stepped out of the shadow.

“Intentions?” Resh dropped his hand, his brow creasing while he stared at the table.

“Intentions. Expectations.” Nykim rolled his eyes. “You care for her, yes? How much? What kind of relationship are you looking for?”

Resh snorted at that. “Relationship? Are we talking about the same woman?”

Just for a moment, Nykim’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. There and then gone. Then he stalked forward, slamming his dagger into the table a hair’s width from Resh’s hand. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

Dark brown eyes steadily met his glare, and there was not an ounce of fear in them. “I love her. But I don’t have any expectations. I’d count it as a huge win if she even considered me a friend. All I want–” Resh paused, cleared his throat. “All I want is to be there for her. If she’ll let me.”

Fuck, this kid was unreal. Nykim snarled, but it was more at the thought of sending Carr away with someone so nauseatingly good than from what Resh had said.

The boy flinched, his eyes widening.

He hadn’t reacted to anything Nykim had done in hours. Shit. Nykim pushed back, but he was too late.

Cold steel dug into his throat, nicking the skin. He froze, hardly daring to breathe. No one had been able to sneak up on him in years. But a small figure pressed into him from behind. Yanked on his braid, pulling his head back.

A drop of blood ran down his neck.

“Hand offa the dagger,” Carr hissed in his ear.

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a sepia-colored version of the original blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths AU are written in white above the eyes. end ID]

#fantasy whump #lady whump #whump #whump writing #original writing #original characters #alternate universe #hidden depths au #angst #warnings above the cut #interrogation tw #intimidation tactics #knife to throat #knife tw

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bored-frog · 1 year ago

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Empty Slots 4 Rent

Spoiled-bitter-bloody liquid oozing from the holes that once held teeth, leaking down into the depths behind, a throat that chokes on chemical red, she smiles as the bile floods her lungs; Enriched within.

She awakes in a puddle of metallic drool, sticky and dirty, drizzled all over her cheek, staining her pillow, running deep within old tarnished fabrics, her tongue explores the dry cave from which her crooked teeth reside, the meaty flesh scrapes up against the hard enamel, bewildered by the lack of moisture; She did not sleep well.

The wisest of smile bones neatly plucked and cleanly sliced, two freshly shattered, two perfectly intact, stored away in plastic, a bag now holding wisdom of 18 years hidden inside the box of a dancer who no longer spins, shut safe and tight, cluttered behind the door of her closet.

What wisdom do they hold?

The four have sat up in her skull, awkwardly shifting and twisting their pointy roots in her jaw, growing with her, only to be removed; Years of observation taken.

"You raised them."

In the oddest way, I have indeed raised them, only for them to be discarded into a box of memories, their service not required by man for some time now; An unexpected Mother sends her boys off.

Poor children, all alone, separated from their siblings and family, left to collect dust and whatever bacteria flourishes in the space of their new home, it must be so lonely, so difficult to get used to their new microscopic neighbors; Missing impacted dental tissues.

My children left me with no wise words or lessons, instead they leave me, their mother, in pain, ghostly little fists punching at gums, bruising teeth, puffing up her cheeks, leaving her to sleep it all off; Recovery hurts.

Odd, such a strange feeling, my tongue slithers to the back, finding nothing, no one is there, only stitches and a pool of minty spiked saliva, the most disgusting tartness.

Although they left her in an irritating state of uncomfortable affliction, she misses them, it's vacant, quiet, no longer loud and jam packed, her rude children are gone, family photos at the dentist no longer the same, for there are four empty rooms in the back, where her babies are no longer.

- Autumn(Me)

#poetry #poemsbyme #original poem #poems on tumblr #poets on tumblr #creative writing

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freeoftour · 2 years ago

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How to comfortable in Travel

Choose Your Ideal Seat.

Dress for Comfort.

Sleep on the Plane. .

Pack the Essentials. .

Consider Your Long Term Health. .

Stay Hydrated. .

Combat Dry Air. .

Maintain Your Hygiene Routine.

Choose Your Ideal Seat

Booking your flight in advance may give you a higher chance of being able to choose your ideal seat. If you have longer legs, try and opt for an aisle seat in order to maximize your legroom. If you’re planning on sleeping throughout your flight, try and opt for a window seat so you have something to lean against while you rest, and won’t be disturbed by passengers trying to get in and out of row.

Dress for Comfort

Before heading to the airport it’s important to consider your choice of clothing. For a long flight, it's beneficial to dress in layers to prepare for temperature changes that can occur on the plane. Wear stretchy comfortable clothing such as a pair of yoga pants or joggers, and a loose fitting T-shirt. Always bring a cozy sweater that’s easy to take Don’t forget to also wear a comfortable pair of footwear that you can easily slip on and off during your flight.

Sleep on the Plane

Sleeping during your flight is an easy way to pass the time and can always help combat jet lag and fatigue. While this may seem tempting, don’t deprive yourself of sleep the night before your flight. . Another important thing to remember is to avoid alcoholic beverages. Alcohol can impair your ability to fall asleep also causing fatigue later on. If you feel yourself falling asleep during your flight don’t resist the urge, you don't know if you’ll be able to all asleep later on in the journey.

Pack the Essentials

While you should try to keep the size of your carry on to a minimum, there are a few essential things that you should consider bringing in order to ensure that you stay comfortable throughout your flight. An eye mask and a pair of noise cancelling headphones or earplugs will cancel out any excess light and noise that may be preventing you from falling asleep. It’s also important to make sure you pack or wear a thick pair of socks so you can stay comfortable and sanitary when taking your shoes off during your flight.

Consider Your Long Term Health

Sitting down during a long flight for hours at a time can put travelers at risk for getting blood clots in the legs, this is also known as deep vein thrombosis. To avoid this condition it’s important to take regular breaks from sitting every few hours to walk around and stretch your legs. Avoid crossing your legs when you’re sitting down as this can restrict blood flow. Lastly, hydration is key in combating these kinds of health problems.

Stay Hydrated

While on the plane travelers can become very dehydrated very quickly due to the high altitude and dry air. In order to avoid dehydration make sure to drink plenty of water throughout your flight. Try to avoid beverages that can cause further dehydration like alcohol and caffeine, and combat dehydration even further by keeping your electrolyte levels high with drinks like Gatorade or Pedialyte.

Combat Dry Air

The recycled air on an airplane can not only internally dehydrate you, but it can cause your eyes and skin to experience more dryness than usual. Lip balms and moisturizers that are small enough to bring in your carry on can help you combat this dry air and will keep your skin feeling hydrated and fresh .If you feel like treating yourself, pack some facial wipes and a hydrating sheet mask to keep your skin hydrated and glowing during your travels.

Maintain Your Hygiene Routine

As well as staying hydrated, it’s a good idea to pack a few basic hygiene products that you can use to freshen up throughout your flight. Pack the toiletries that you use on a daily basis like deodorant, a toothbrush, and toothpaste to help keep up with your bedtime and morning routine. Using these products throughout your flight will help you feel clean and fresh even after you’ve arrived at your destination.

Keep Yourself Entertained

Before you get on the airplane make sure all your electronic devices are charged, and check to see if your airline offers in-flight entertainment. . Most importantly, try to fill the time you’re spending traveling with activities that you normally wouldn't have time for at home. Reading a good book or listening to an enticing podcast can make your traveling time pass even quicker

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smoosh2024 · 2 days ago

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Smoosh Product Spotlights for Women: Get the Best Out of Smoosh Serums and Creams

n the fast-growing world of beauty and skincare, the Smoosh brand stands out as a go-to for women seeking organic, high-quality, and effective products. At Smoosh, we understand that every woman’s skin is unique, and with the right care, you can unlock your natural beauty, no matter your skin type. From powerful serums to nourishing creams, our range is designed to cater to all women looking for solutions that are not only effective but also gentle on the skin.

In this blog post, we’ll highlight how you can make the most of Smoosh serums and creams, review which products work best for different skin types, and explore the best organic beauty products for women.

Table of Contents

1. How to Get the Best Out of Smoosh Serums and Creams

Smoosh Daily Skin Serum

Smoosh Night Cream

Smoosh Brightening Serum

2. Product Reviews: What Works for Different Skin Types

Dry Skin

Oily and Acne-Prone Skin

Combination Skin

Sensitive Skin

3. Best Organic Beauty Products for Women

Smoosh Rosewater Toner

Smoosh Matcha Serum

Smoosh Organic Lip Balm

Smoosh Acne Care

Conclusion: Elevate Your Beauty Routine with Smoosh

1. How to Get the Best Out of Smoosh Serums and Creams

Smoosh Serums and creams are the heart of any effective skincare routine. Serums are designed to deliver potent active ingredients deep into the skin, while creams help lock in moisture and provide a protective barrier. Knowing how to use these products correctly can make all the difference in achieving your skincare goals.

Smoosh Daily Skin Serum

The Smoosh Daily Skin Serum is one of our best-selling products, thanks to its lightweight formula that’s packed with active ingredients like vitamin C, hyaluronic acid, and niacinamide. These ingredients work together to brighten skin, improve elasticity, and hydrate deeply.

How to Use:

Cleanse your face with a gentle cleanser.

Apply the Smoosh Daily Skin Serum while your skin is still slightly damp to lock in extra moisture.

Follow with a moisturizer to seal in the benefits.

Use the serum both in the morning and at night for the best results.

Pro Tip: If you’re combining the Daily Skin Serum with other treatments like retinol or acids, apply the serum after cleansing but before thicker creams and treatments to ensure maximum absorption.

Smoosh Night Cream

The Smoosh Night Cream is designed to nourish and restore your skin while you sleep. Formulated with shea butter, green tea extract, and olive oil, it provides deep hydration and fights free radicals that can cause premature aging.

How to Use:

Apply after your evening cleansing routine and after any serums you may use.

Massage a small amount into your face and neck, focusing on areas prone to dryness or fine lines.

Let it absorb fully before going to bed.

Smoosh Brightening Serum

Our Smoosh Brightening Serum is ideal for women looking to combat dullness, dark spots, or hyperpigmentation. Formulated with vitamin C and licorice root extract, this serum works to even skin tone and restore radiance.

How to Use:

Apply the serum after cleansing and before moisturizing, both in the morning and at night.

Use it consistently to see improvements in skin brightness over time.

Don’t forget to wear sunscreen during the day, as vitamin C can make your skin more sensitive to the sun.

Pro Tip: Pair the Brightening Serum with the Smoosh Moisturizer for a one-two punch of hydration and brightness that will leave your skin glowing all day long.

2. Product Reviews: What Works for Different Skin Types

Different skin types require different care. Knowing which Smoosh products work best for your skin type can help you get the most out of your skincare routine. Whether you have dry, oily, combination, or sensitive skin, we have you covered.

Dry Skin

For women with dry skin, hydration is the key to healthy, glowing skin. Dry skin types often struggle with rough patches, flakiness, and tightness. The best Smoosh products for dry skin are rich in moisturizing ingredients that provide long-lasting hydration.

Top Picks:

Smoosh Moisturizer: This ultra-hydrating cream contains hyaluronic acid and shea butter to lock in moisture and keep your skin soft throughout the day.

Smoosh Night Cream: Use this nourishing night cream to deeply moisturize your skin while you sleep. The rich, creamy texture is perfect for replenishing moisture overnight.

Review: “After trying countless moisturizers for my dry skin, the Smoosh Moisturizer was a game-changer. My skin feels soft, hydrated, and smooth all day long. I love pairing it with the Smoosh Night Cream for extra hydration overnight.” — Sarah, 34

Oily and Acne-Prone Skin

Oily skin can be tricky to manage. It’s prone to excess shine, enlarged pores, and acne breakouts. The key to controlling oily skin is balancing oil production without stripping the skin of its natural moisture. Smoosh offers lightweight, oil-free products that work wonders for oily skin.

Top Picks:

Smoosh Acne Serum: Formulated with salicylic acid, this serum targets acne at its source, helping to reduce breakouts and clear clogged pores.

Smoosh Daily Skin Serum: Lightweight and non-greasy, this serum provides essential hydration without clogging pores. It helps balance oil production and leaves your skin with a matte finish.

Review: “My skin is super oily, and most serums leave me feeling greasy. The Smoosh Daily Skin Serum, however, is a miracle! It hydrates my skin without adding oil, and I’ve noticed fewer breakouts since I started using it.” — Priya, 27

Combination Skin

Combination skin is a mix of both oily and dry areas, usually with an oily T-zone and dry cheeks. This skin type needs products that can balance oil in some areas while providing hydration to others. Smoosh products offer the perfect solution with their lightweight, balancing formulas.

Top Picks:

Smoosh Brightening Serum: This serum not only helps brighten dull areas but also balances uneven skin tones and addresses both dry and oily spots.

Smoosh Rosewater Toner: This gentle toner refreshes and hydrates without leaving a heavy or greasy residue. Perfect for keeping combination skin in check.

Review: “I have combination skin, and it’s hard to find products that work for both the oily and dry parts of my face. The Smoosh Rosewater Toner keeps my skin hydrated, and the Brightening Serum has done wonders for evening out my skin tone.” — Anjali, 31

Sensitive Skin

Sensitive skin requires gentle, soothing products that won’t cause irritation or redness. Smoosh products are formulated without harsh chemicals, making them perfect for women with delicate skin.

Top Picks:

Smoosh Aloe Vera Hair Mask: This gentle hair mask soothes irritated scalps while nourishing the hair.

Smoosh Honey Face Mask: Designed with natural ingredients, this mask is perfect for calming inflamed skin and reducing redness.

3. Best Organic Beauty Products for Women

At Smoosh, we are committed to using only the best organic ingredients in our skincare products. Organic beauty is not just a trend—it’s a way to ensure your skin receives the best care without harmful chemicals or synthetic additives. Here are some of the best organic beauty products from Smoosh that every woman should have in her skincare arsenal.

Smoosh Rosewater Toner

This refreshing toner is made from pure rosewater, known for its soothing and hydrating properties. It helps balance the skin’s pH, reduce redness, and provide a burst of moisture, making it an essential part of your skincare routine.

Benefits:

Hydrates and refreshes skin

Balances pH levels

Reduces inflammation

Smoosh Matcha Serum

Packed with the antioxidant power of matcha serum, this serum helps brighten the skin, calm inflammation, and fight free radicals that cause premature aging. It’s perfect for women who want a serum that addresses multiple skin concerns in one formula.

Benefits:

Antioxidant-rich formula

Brightens and evens skin tone

Fights free radical damage

Smoosh Organic Lip Balm

Formulated with nourishing organic ingredients like beeswax, shea butter, and coconut oil, the Smoosh Organic Lip Balm keeps your lips soft and hydrated throughout the day. Its organic ingredients ensure your lips are protected from harsh environmental factors without any synthetic chemicals.

Benefits:

Hydrates and softens lips

Protects against dryness

Made with organic, natural ingredients

Smoosh Acne Care

A targeted treatment for acne-prone skin, this serum contains natural acne-fighting ingredients like tea tree oil and witch hazel. It gently clears pores and reduces inflammation without irritating the skin.

Benefits:

Clears acne and prevents breakouts

Soothes redness and inflammation

Made with natural, acne-fighting ingredients

Conclusion: Elevate Your Beauty Routine with Smoosh

Smoosh offers a range of skincare and beauty products tailored to meet the diverse needs of women, no matter their skin type. From acne solutions to anti-aging treatments, our serum.

#SmooshBeauty #SerumLovers #GlowSerum #MoisturizingCream #SkinSofteningCream #EmpoweredBeauty #ConfidentlyBeautiful

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