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ilovepedro · 6 months

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frosted cookies | husband!frankie morales x wife!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4.4k

Summary: You pack away an extra treat in your husband’s lunch. What happens when Frankie sees you’ve packed more than just some cookies? Cookies won’t be the only thing that’s frosted when he has his way with you.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, doggy style, missionary, praise kink, three (3) spanks, cum eating, teeniest bit of soft dom!Frankie, sickening fluff, after care, pet names (querida, hermosa, baby, etc), husband!Frankie being so in love and down bad for his wife, reader speaks some Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, some Spanish translations throughout.

A/N: can be read as part of the “just married” universe or a stand alone. did y’all think i forgot about a 500 follower treat?! hehehe i would never!! i’m back with a lil slice of domestic holiday bliss and smut with our guy, our husband! i’m just so down bad for Frankie, like there’s really no explaining myself. he’s everything. i want him so bad.🧎‍♀️anyway, happy Frankie friday everybody! hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Jesus, querida. How many cookies are you gonna bake?” Frankie asks before popping one into his mouth. “Francisco! Ya basta! (Enough) Those are for tomorrow!” You yell, smacking your husband’s hand away from getting anymore cookies.

After tomorrow, you and Frankie are off for 10 days. The stress and anticipation of the festivities and just spending uninterrupted time together energizes you to work rapidly. You’ve been baking all day for your office’s Christmas party, whipping up an array of cookies and packaging them up to give out to your coworkers.

Flour, powdered sugar, and icing bags are scattered throughout the counter. A bowl of icing sitting in the middle of the island and cookie cutters next to 3 trays of cookies. Powdered sugar coats your hands and icing splattered across your apron.

“Lo siento, bebita, (I'm sorry, baby girl)” he says through a muffled mouthful of cookie, rubbing circles on your lower back while he peppers kisses to your shoulder.

“I have to make sure there’s enough for everyone. 50 is good right? The whole office will be there, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out,” you ramble as you roll out the last batch of dough in between parchment paper. Frankie rubs up and down your arms as you cut them into shapes.

“50 is plenty, baby. You work too hard, mi amor. Is this the last batch?”

“Yeah, I’ll finally be done after this one comes out the oven,” you say as you place them onto the cookie sheet.

“Good. You need to rest, and I wanna have my wife to myself.” You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his neck. “You sure no one will feel left out?”

A small gentle smile splays on his lips as he readjusts his grip on your hips. “No one will feel left out, baby. I promise. And if they do, then fuck ‘em. They don’t know how hard you work, or how kind you truly are,” he softly says. A relieved smile creeps onto your face as a toothy grin appears on his. He places a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, you getting lost in him as the taste of him mixes with the sugary cookie he’d just eaten. Both of you sighing into one another, never getting enough of each other.

The oven timer dings, startling the both of you and breaking the kiss as you jump back a bit. The two of you giggling like a pair of children, Frankie places one last chaste kiss to your lips as you head to the oven. Feeling a playful swat to your ass, you turn around and playfully scold your husband as you remove the cookies out of the oven - the aroma of sugar and spice filling the air.

“How long’s this last batch gonna take, mi vida?” Frankie asks as you place the final batch of cookies in the oven. “Only 15 minutes, mi amor. Tener paciencia (have patience),” you say through a fit of giggles, laughing at your husband’s impatience. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as you stride towards him. Pulling him in for another kiss, his hands freely roam down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Laughing into him, you pull away as you bark out a belly laugh, your husband mirroring you.

“Could you help me clean up, please baby? The faster we clean, the faster I’m all yours,” you taunt. “Of course, mi vida, you don’t even have to ask. Although, the incentive is nice,” he says with a smirk. The two of you swiftly maneuver throughout the kitchen while the cookies bake. Frankie clearing the counter as you wipe it down, and washing and drying dishes together - working in tandem to tidy up your kitchen. The oven timer dings once more, Frankie washing and drying the remaining dishes as you remove the last batch and set them on the cooling rack. As you remove your oven mitts, Frankie tosses the dish rag onto the counter and swoops behind you, engulfing you in his broad, taut arms while he litters kisses along your neck.

“All done, mi amor?” He asks against your skin, his mustache tickling you along with his eagerness, eliciting a laugh from you. “All done, mi amor,” you laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck to twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. “Vamos, mi esposa,” he says, whisking you away and up the stairs.

Laughter bubbling over the two of you as you rush up the stairs.

After tomorrow, it’s 10 days of this - uninterrupted bliss with each other.

Frankie plops down on the chair, groaning as time ticks by agonizingly slow. He runs a hand over his face, his wedding ring making contact with his cheek reminds him of you - just 4 more hours until he’s home with you.

Cracking open his lunchbox, he smiles as he spots the usual yellow sticky note that you pack in his lunch which lay atop some of the freshly baked cookies that you made last night. Picking it up, he reads the note:

“Enjoy your lunch, mi esposo hermoso. Can’t wait for you to frost my cookie when you get home ;)

-Con amor, su esposa”

Beneath it, a polaroid of you dressed in a crimson red babydoll with white fur lining the bust. It leaves little to the imagination as you display your breasts to the camera, a coy smile on your lips as white frosting runs down your lips and onto your chin, teasingly biting into one of the cookies you baked.

His breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening as he takes in your form. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his lunch now completely forgotten.

“‘S matter, boss? Wife forget to pack your juice or something?” A stupid rookie asks, laughing too hard at his own joke as he creeps up behind Frankie to catch a glimpse inside his lunchbox. Frankie immediately drops the polaroid back inside and flips the lid closed before the rookie can see it.

“Shut the hell up, Daniel,” Frankie grumbles as he rises to his feet, stomping out of the break room and into his tiny, cluttered office. He typically eats lunch here, wanting to get away from the fumes that permeate the shop, but the anticipation of your time off together made him antsy - seeking out a place without constant reminders of you as the day drags on.

That did absolutely nothing. Your boudoir polaroid having made his day better and worse simultaneously. You looked nothing short of a dream, but now his impatience is getting the better of him as his mind wanders to all the things he plans to do to you tonight. He groans, his cock still half hard as he unravels his lunch. He huffs sticking the polaroid in his wallet, aggressively nibbling at his lunch.

Could this day go by any slower?

He opens the door, tossing his keys into the bowl as he shuts and locks it. Trudging inside, he toes off his boots, pushing them to the side as he takes in your fully decorated home. His heart swells at the sight, knowing you were off work early today after your office party. Meaning you probably spent the entire afternoon decorating.

Garlands adorn every wall, the tree now fully decorated and the Christmas village sits atop the mantle. Twinkling lights warmly illuminate the room. The sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway to the kitchen, the smell of dinner and more baked goods permeating through the air mingling with the fresh pine scent of the tree.

You’ve gone full Christmas-mode and he can’t get enough of your domesticity - your ability to make every single thing you touch feel like home.

“Frankie?!” You yell faintly from the kitchen.

“Hermosa, I’m home!” He shouts as he shrugs off his brown utility jacket. Footsteps bound from the kitchen and into the hall. There you stand, in all your domestic glory with your apron around your front and a bit of flour on your cheek.

You beam at him, happy your husband is finally home for the week. Your office is closed and so is the shop for the following week and then some for the holiday, now you have him all to yourself for the next 10 days. Practically flinging yourself into his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He laughs at your eagerness, his cock twitching in his pants as you tug him closer by his soft curls, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, a soft moan escaping you and into Frankie.

It’s unclear who breaks the kiss first, but the both of you are heaving, panting for air. The smile returning to your face, a smug look appearing on your husband’s face.

“Hi, baby. I missed you.” Your hands snake up his chest and you remove his cap from his head, setting it on the table by the door, carding your fingers through his hair. His smile softens, eyes gleaming with love. “Hi, mi amor. I missed you too. I see you got up to some stuff while I was gone,” he says, swirling circles on your lower back. You giggle, knowing you can be a bit elaborate when it comes to decorating.

“‘S not too much?” You ask. He quickly shakes his head. “Never, mi amor,” he nearly whispers, reassuring you before capturing your lips in another kiss. Walking you backwards into the kitchen, he presses you up against the kitchen counter, catching a whiff of something baking in the oven again.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours as he swipes away the flour that’s smudged on your cheek. “You’re still baking, mi vida? I thought you were finished,” he asks. “I am, but I wanted to make you something, a treat to celebrate our vacation,” you ramble. A chuckle rumbles in his sturdy chest.

“Got the most delicious treat right here,” he tsks, you chuckle rolling your eyes at his cheesiness as butterflies erupt in your belly. His hardening length presses against your core as he dives in to litter your neck with kisses. “Even got a picture to prove it,” he rasps against you. A small gasp escapes you.

So he did see the picture.

“Oh really? Can I see this picture, amor?” Your voice breathy and titillating, feigning oblivion as a smirk plastered on your face while he sucks on your neck.

“I’m sure you know what it looks like. In fact, you’re gonna let me recreate it with the real thing, baby.” His voice low and husky now as his clothed, hard cock ruts into you.

A wave of arousal pools in your panties. “I am?” You breathlessly ask, still keeping up the innocent act.

“Mhmm. Gonna be covered in me. Isn’t that what you wanted, princesa? Huh? You couldn’t wait for me to get home and frost your cookie, hermosa?” He asks as his lips ghost over yours now, emphasizing the reference to the note you’d put in his lunchbox this morning. You snort, eyes shutting as heat courses through your veins as he quotes the note, and warmth blooming in your belly.

A light smack to your thigh reels you back in, eyes flying open. His eyes filled with lust, pupils darkening. Your eyes glossy and hazy, feeling tipsy just off his embrace, his words.

“Y-yes, Frankie. ‘S what I wanted - want. Want you s-so bad, mi amor,” you mumble against his ear as he resumes peppering kisses along your chest. Humming against you, your words going straight to his cock, which you feel as he presses into your core a bit harder.

“Want you so bad, too, princesa. Been wanting you all day. Y’know how hard it was to keep it together seeing that picture of you? Look so fucking sexy, fuck. Had to stop myself from cumming in my jeans like a fucking teenager,” he mutters into your ear. You giggle, taking great joy in knowing your husband wants you just as bad as you do, maybe even more.

He bites down on your earlobe, your giggles quickly dissipating into a moan. “But what you did today was so bad, mi vida. Distracted me all fucking day from work, could barely concentrate. I think you just made it on the naughty list. What do you think, baby? Are you naughty or nice?”

“N-nice. Nice, baby,” you whimper as Frankie unties your apron and smoothly tosses it on the counter.

“Mmmm, you sure about that? You gonna be a nice, good girl for me and let me have my way with you?” You furiously nod, your neediness growing into an impatient monster.

He laughs at your eagerness, relishing in how needy you are for him. “Come on, princesa. Show me how good you are,” he rasps before releasing you from his grasp, grabbing your hand as you two stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Excitement stirring within you as he leads you to your room.

Frankie flings the door open, eagerly bringing you into his embrace again. He cups your cheeks, leaning in as his lips engulf yours in a messy, heated kiss. It’s all tongue as teeth gnash together, moans flying out from both of you while you strip each other down. Frankie groans as he discards your bra onto the floor. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you shuck off your husband’s briefs, his hard cock springing free, weeping and red.

“On the bed, hermosa,” he demands, his timbre husky and low. You scramble onto the bed, laying on your back, displaying yourself for your husband. “Spread your legs.”

Your brain on autopilot, operating as if Frankie has a remote to control your actions.

Legs spread, the cool air of the room hits your sopping core, a shiver running down your spine. Frankie licks his lips, pupils blown black and wide swirling with lust. He stalks towards you, laying down and settling himself in front of your aching pussy. He grabs your thighs, placing them on either side of his head. The frigidity of his wedding band burning into your skin, contrasting the blaze that burns from within you as you anticipate your husband’s next move.

You pant as the excitement transforms into a forest fire within your core, Frankie so close to where you desperately need him. He presses firm kisses to your thighs, your breath catching in your throat again. Kissing and nipping at your thighs, your neediness causes your hips to involuntarily buck into Frankie - his nose catching on your clit for a split second. A shocking loud moan escapes you as Frankie pushes you back down on the bed.

“Just like you told me last night, mi vida. And like how I had to tell myself after what you pulled this afternoon: tener paciencia,” he practically growls against your thighs. You whine as his teasing resumes. You know this is payback for the polaroid, making him wait all day for some relief. Your husband is the most patient man you know, even when he wants nothing more than to take you any chance he can get.

His desire for you though, constantly burning, so you know this must be killing him too. However, the sweet revenge of seeing you fall apart and writhe under him, begging him to do something is the most delicious reward.

“Frankie,” you desperately sigh, eyes closing as he presses kisses to your mound. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted? Hmm, baby?” He asks against your core, your eyes opening and to lock with his gaze. “Never, mi amor,” you nearly whisper, it comes out much more rushed than intended.

“Tranquila, mi vida. I’m gonna take care of you and this pretty pussy. I got you, baby,” he says with one last kiss to your thigh. Without preamble, he licks a long, languid stripe up your folds. A relieved moan tumbling from your lips as you bury your head further into the pillow. He repetitiously licks up your glistening core, your clit throbbing for some attention. Your husband knows your body like the back of his hand, as if he can read your mind.

He flicks your precious pearl with a steady rhythm, wrapping his lips around it. You twitch underneath him, eyes heavy and glazed.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You keen as your hands fly to tug on his hair, his rhythmic, skilled tongue bringing you closer to the edge. Your weeping cunt clenches around nothing as a wave of slick seeps from your hole. He snakes a hand up to cup your breast, flicking and suckling your clit as he rolls your nipple in between his thick, calloused fingers, alternating breasts. Your breathing is ragged as you moan, Frankie groaning and humming into you. The vibrations rumbling from within him launching you higher into your climax, teetering on lift off.

“Feels s-so f-fucking good, Frankie. Always s-so fucking g-good,” you babble. He pulls away for a second, his chin coated in your slick. “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Let go, hermosa,” he rasps right above your swollen cunt. He dives back in, moving his hand from your breast to your entrance, two fingers sliding home with the amount of slick pouring from you.

A sharp gasp escapes you, eyes rolling back at the welcomed intrusion as Frankie rapidly and steadily alternates between sucking and flicking your clit. His fingers hitting that spongy spot only his fingers and cock can reach. The coil in your belly snaps as you’re launched into your orgasm, stars appearing behind your eyes as your vision blurs white hot.

Frankie helps you ride out your high as you scream and writhe beneath him, lapping up every last drop of slick gushing from your throbbing pussy. Desperately trying not to rut his hips into the mattress, he groans at the sweet, tangy taste of you that he can never get enough of. Your thighs tremble as you slowly return back to Earth, whimpering as Frankie presses soft kisses to your thighs.

“Did so good for me, baby. Always so fucking good for me,” he hushes you, peppering kisses up your body.

You fight to keep your eyes open, catching sight of your husband soaked in your release as his mustache and patchy beard gleams in the warm glow of the bedroom.

Pulling him down, you connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into one another. Wrapping your arms around his broad, strong shoulders as you tug on his curls. His mouth licking into yours, letting you taste your sweet slick on your tongue. Sweet and heady, the kiss melds into something sinful as you feel Frankie’s hard, leaking cock rubs right above your core. Precum smearing on your belly, Frankie pulls back and moans at the friction.

“Not done with you yet, querida,” he says gruffly as he lifts himself off you. “Turn around,” he demands. You recognize that tone: he’s gonna have his way with you tonight. A shiver runs down your spine as a new rush of arousal burns brightly in your core. You swiftly lay on your stomach.

“On your knees, baby.” His voice husky and firm. You readjust yourself and settle on your knees, balancing yourself on your forearms. Feeling the mattress dip behind you, another spark of arousal jolts in your pussy, your belly warm and full of anticipation. You can hear Frankie pumping himself in his fist as he lines his hips up with yours.

“See, you can be a good girl. Knew you could do it, mi vida.” You moan at his praise. His large hands caress your ass, engulfing your cheeks in each hand, admiring the view. You teasingly wiggle your ass, Frankie-drunk giggles bubbling over your lips and spilling into the pillow. A smack comes down on your ass, the sting of it making your pussy throb. Moaning as you turn your head to the side, locking eyes with Frankie.

His chocolate irises invisible, eyes completely darkened and filled to the brim with lust.

“Don’t start.” You nod, drool pooling under your mouth, your patience wearing thin. “Be good, baby,” he rasps as he lines his cock up with your entrance. His tip prodding your aching hole, as one of his hands rests on your ass. He slowly slides in, taking his time bottoming out. Both of you moaning in tandem as his cock splits you open, the sting blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. You squeeze around him as he fully sheathes himself inside you, never fully getting used to his size despite being married to him now.

“Alright, baby. Alright, baby,” He hisses, roughly kneading your ass. “Come on now. Relax, baby. I got you,” he calmly whispers. You feel yourself relax, unclenching and releasing him from your vice grip. “There we go. Good girl,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss behind the shell of your ear.

He slowly slides out from you, nearly pulling out all the way until he slams his hips back into yours. His cock punching your cervix.

“Frankie!” You gasp, moaning as you grip the sheets. He repeats the motion, grunting as he cants his hips. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy ever. Fuck, always feel so fucking good, baby. You were made for me, made to take my cock. Huh, querida?” He asks, breathing ragged as he fucks in and out of you. You nod and moan in agreement, words escaping you as he brings you close to your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to slowly creep up on you, still reeling from the sensitivity of your previous one.

Another smack hits your ass, clenching around him in your tight heat. You love when Frankie gets a bit rough with you.

“Words, querida. Come on, you were doing so good,” he taunts. You swallow through your moans, unaware of the desperate tears of pleasure that were pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yes, baby. Made for you, made for your cock. S-so fucking good to me, Frankie. L-luckiest girl in the w-world,” you babble. You feel him twitch inside you before he pulls out.

Whining at the loss of your husband’s cock, you’re suddenly being flipped on your back. Before you can give what’s happening a second thought, Frankie slides back into you. Your calves pressed against his strong chest, your ankles resting atop his taut shoulders as he bends you in half. His pace rapidly picking up, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“‘S right, baby. Made for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world, querida. Won the wife lottery,” he rasps lowly, pressing a kiss to your calf.

The love you have for this man is overwhelming. His existence constantly gracing your mind, his unwavering support, his unconditional love, never feeling like you’re not enough for him, his kindness, his patience, how gentle he is with you even when he’s roughing you up.

“Eres la esposa más hermosa y perfecta del mundo. (You're the most beautiful and perfect wife in the world) So lucky to call you my wife, baby,” he grunts, punctuating each word with his thrusts. His sweet words toss you over the edge, fat tears of euphoria and love cascade down your cheeks as you scream his name.

An endless stream of slick seeps from your cunt, coating Frankie in your release. The squelching sound filling the air mixed with pants and moans is sinful, obscene.

“Fuck yes, baby. Give it to me, all of it. Soak my cock, querida. So fucking good - you, this pussy, our life, fuck yes,” he babbles. You mindlessly move your legs from his hold to wrap around his middle, bringing him in closer as you ride out your high.

“Love you so much, Frankie. Best husband in the world, come on, mi amor. Cum for me, need your cum,” you whine, giving him one last good squeeze. Frankie fills you up with half his load before pulling out and coating your mound in his cum. Endless moans streaming from you both. Frankie cums for a long time.

The picture really did a number on him.

Ropes of his spend coats your sex and your belly. Unable to control yourself, you reach down and swipe two fingers through his cum and lick them clean. Relishing the delicious, salty taste of your husband. Frankie groans as he sees you suck your fingers clean, gathering cum on his fingers and stuffing it back into your cunt. You moan around your fingers at the feeling of his thick, long fingers stuffing you full of his cum.

Releasing your fingers with a pop, Frankie pounces on you - his fingers brushing against your lips, prying your mouth open. You suck them into your mouth, an animalistic groan rumbling from within you as you taste the combination of you two. He removes his fingers, adjusting himself to pin you down, caging you in between his large biceps.

He dives in for a kiss, it’s slower - savoring the taste of you and him on your tongue as he soaks in the love which radiates off your body and into his soul. “Love you so much, mi vida. Para siempre (Always),” he whispers against your lips. You cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your lips as your eyes glimmer with contentment and love.

“Para siempre,” you repeat. Another firm, lingering kiss is pressed to your lips before he rises to his feet, padding to your shared bathroom. The faucet turns on, your usual routine of aftercare beginning. Frankie returns with the warm rag, gently cleaning you up.

“Frosted your cookie pretty good, huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, curls in disarray.

You bark out a belly laugh, unable to control your laughter at your husband’s stupid joke.

“Francisco!” You squeal. Frankie tsks and rolls his eyes. “Oh after all the shit we just did, that’s where you draw the line?!” He playfully asks, a toothy grin on his face.

“No, I just thought you forgot about that stupid note!” You say through your laughter, Frankie bursting into a fit of giggles with you. “Wasn’t stupid, and how could I ever forget that and that picture?” He asks as he continues to clean you up.

“Speaking of, I’m not even gonna question when and how you took that picture, but next time, I’m helping you,” he says as he rises up and walks back into the bathroom to discard the rag into the laundry basket. “Whatever you say, mi amor,” you tease from the bed.

He returns, playfully pouncing on the bed beside you. Another fit of giggles erupts from you.

“That’s right, baby. Whatever I say,” he says with a wink and a smile, interlacing your fingers with his - toying with your wedding ring as he places a chaste kiss to your lips before saddling up beside you.

i love husband!Frankie sm 😫😔

wrote this on a bit of a whim, i had no idea what i wanted to do, i just knew i wanted to write a lil christmasy somethin-somethin for y'all 🩷

i hope y'all enjoyed!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @joelsgreys @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @javierpena-inatacvest @pedgito @tupelomiss @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#nini’s 500 follower celebration #happy frankie friday #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #husband!frankie

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pinguwrites · 2 months

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𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter Two

series masterlist. previous chapter. next chapter

𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k

Warnings: lowkey hating on a girl, mention of church and God bc it's the 50s and that's what they did

A/N: Would you guys rather me upload short chapters frequently or long chapters but it takes more time in between?

It was twelve in the afternoon, and you hadn’t seen Francis yet. You were worried that something had happened, maybe he got hurt in his apartment, hit his head and was bleeding on the floor, or maybe slipped and sprained an ankle, but you couldn’t just call his number to make sure — that would be unprofessional. Not only that, but the most likely case was that he left earlier than you got to work, which used to happen a lot when you first started working here.

In the meanwhile, you sat at your desk, trying to pass the time. There wasn’t much to do, and you found yourself thinking of Anastacha and what she had said last night. You reasoned with yourself that she was just getting your hopes up high. She was a little girl and didn’t know anything at all. But now that she had said what she said, you couldn’t get it out of your head. The thought of Francis liking you back . . . did he daydream about you like you did? Get nervous when talking to you? When he worked, did he miss your presence?

Ugh. How come he could torture you like this, consume your mind and heart without knowing what he was doing? It wasn’t fair. For once, you’d like for someone else to feel that way about you. To spend their every waking hour, every slumber, feeling the way you did.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the elevator bell rang. Attention perked, you hoped that it was Francis, and as if your wish was granted, it was.

He walked out, glancing over at you. You tried to look nonchalant, but inside your worries were relieved. So he was okay. Everything is fine.

Before he could approach you, however, he was blocked by another woman. You internally rolled your eyes as you saw Selenne strike up a conversation with him. The Svertch twins were models, quite famous, actually. They were well-known within the city. The most tiresome part of your job was probably shooing away the paparazzi, convincing them that it was another Selenne and Elenois who lived in Sama Place, not the celebrities they were thinking of.

Elenois was nice enough. She was a little full of herself, but you were sure that came with the job. After all, if you earned money just because of how pretty you were, you would have an ego as well. But her sister . . . oh, her sister was far worse. She was always rude to staff, making passive-aggressive comments all the time, and you knew for a fact that she didn’t like you. It may have been because you were a woman, and she didn’t like women very much, despite being one herself, but you were sure it had to do with much more than that.

When you thought about how grateful you were to work in a place like this, you always forgot about Selenne, and how miserable she made you feel. Maybe that was the price of having a reasonably good job. There was always a downside to everything.

You watched as she flirted with Francis. He looked mildly uncomfortable, a little stoic in his expressions, but that was how he always looked. What Anastacha said last night was true — he was nice, but a little aloof. Maybe he was enjoying whatever conversation he was having with Selenne, only it didn’t show on his face. You wondered if that’s how he looked when he was talking to you.

“Ah, there you are!”

You looked to the side and saw your boss approaching you. His name was Samuel Brogan. He was a rather short man, with a tanned complexion and thin lips. He had coarse, straightened hair, and a stubble on his chin. He was the one responsible for hiring you. He owned Sama Place — at least, he was in charge of this specific building.

“This is where I always am,” you responded, and he laughed.

“Sorry, darling. I don’t expect a person to be able to sit in that chair all day.”

You gave a polite smile. You never really liked Samuel, call it instinct, but he was your boss, so you had to be nice.

“You’re not busy this weekend, are you?” he asked, leaning his arms against your desk. Shifting uncomfortably, you glanced over at Francis again, but he was still talking to Selenne.

“I was planning on . . .” Not able to come up with a lie quick enough, you gave up. “Not doing much. I just want to go home and relax — it’s been a long week.”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand. You’ve been a wonderful employee, I want you to have time for yourself.”

You stared. Where was this going?

“But I need you to work this weekend,” he finally said, and your heart dropped.

“I don’t understand. What about that teenager you hired?”

On Saturday, he didn’t need someone working full-time. Sundays were reserved for Church and God, obviously, so for that one day, he hired a kid who was willing to work with little pay to just sit at the desk and make sure everything was going smoothly.

“He got sick,” Samuel explained. “It’s just an extra day, and it’s only half your usual hours.”

Reluctantly, you agreed. You were sure you wouldn’t get any compensation for it, but it wasn’t that bad.

“Oh, and I need you to run a few errands for me,” he added, setting down a list of items in front of you. “Whenever you can, but have it by the end of this week.”

He left, and you sighed.

Picking up the list, you scanned through it. Wallpaper, a toolkit, canned fruit? Surely he didn’t expect you to pay for this out of your own pocket . . .

You folded the note and put it in your pocket, just in time for Francis to approach you. You looked around for Selenne, but she was already walking out of the building with sunglasses.

“What were you two talking about?” you blurted out, feeling immediately ashamed of yourself afterward. What were you thinking asking that kind of question? What would he think of you?

Francis looked taken off guard for a moment, but he answered anyway. “Oh, nothing. What were you and Brogan talking about?”

“Nothing,” you responded pettily.

It was quiet for a moment, that kind of awkward silence that you hated.

You relented. “Alright, he wants me to work tomorrow, and run some errands. That’s it.”

“Selenne was curious about my work. I told her that I had taken a day off and was going to visit my parents,” he said.

“Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?” you teased, reveling in the way he averted his eyes.

“No, ma’am.”

God. The way he said it. He was so beautiful, in every possible way. Sometimes, you wished you could keep him in your room forever.

“Do they live nearby?” you asked. “Your parents, I mean.”

“Somewhat. I’ll be back before nightfall. I’m sorry Brogan is making you work the weekend. If you want, I’ll convince him to change his mind.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. It’s not like I was planning to do much tomorrow. Just fix some furniture and do a bit of housekeeping.”

“Fix furniture?” he repeated. “I don’t think you should be doing that. You could get hurt.”

You giggled. “I’m not a dainty princess.”

He frowned. “I know. I don’t mean to undermine you. You’re a very capable woman. It’s just that . . . I would feel better if someone was there to help you.”

“Mhm. And who’s gonna do that?”

Francis looked up at you with expectant eyes. “I’m free Sunday.”

You paused, not believing what he was saying. Was he offering to come over to your place? Him? Inside your house? The place you slept and changed your clothes and took baths . . . Lord, you didn’t know if you could handle this intimacy. Was it even right? Oh, who were you kidding? You didn’t care if it was acceptable or not. If Francis was offering to spend time with you (help you fix furniture, but whatever) there was no way you were going to turn down that offer.

“Yes,” you said, more eagerly than you liked. “I could give you my address and you could stop by around eleven?”

He smiled. “Mmm. Alright, then,” he agreed. “I look forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.”

He gave a slight tip of his hat, a motion you could have fainted at had you not been sitting on a chair, and left, leaving you with nothing but the anticipation of this Sunday.

Imagine him — shirtless as he nails screws and lifts planks of wood. I’d give him cool lemonade as he worked and watch him as he wipes the sweat from his forehead . . . For the rest of the day, you couldn’t get the image out of your head. You greeted your neighbors as they walked by, and helped the occasional person with a problem, but all that was floating around in your head was Francis, Francis, Francis.

Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x y/n #pinguwrites #that's not my neighbor #fanfiction #lovers' syndrome

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salaciousdoll · 8 months

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✩˚｡⋆ ⋆ ⋆ His Messy Dolly ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡✩

･˳ . ⋆ Featuring Jugram Haschwalth x doll wife!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Be advised to the warnings of smut, Modern!royal! Au, dollification( just a little bit shown), dirty talking, pet names( Angel, doll, slut, etc.), Dark Content, reader is fucked good and messy, Jugram is obsessed with you even if you only had a year with each other before the arranged marriage happens, arranged marriage au!, reader has a small panic attack on her wedding day, reader almost turns into bridezilla, spitting, impact play( gripping thighs, holding hips tightly, etc.), small temperature play with ice, breeding kink, squirt mention, you’re both a creamer and squirter, quickie, late to your own wedding, praise kink up 100 here, degradtion kink is down 50, pussy drunk! Jugo, dick drunk!reader, let me know if I missed something… Wc: 2.5k

Minors do not interact, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Salaciousdoll: this may not be my best and I am so sorry to the people who expected more. I didn’t finish this until today but I hope you can still enjoy it. Please tell me if Jugram is ooc because I think I wrote him a little ooc, just be nice about it. Anyways, welcome to the second week and fic of my kinktober and no nut November event!!

Salaciousber Masterlist Taglist

Being the daughter of a victorious king has its ups and downs. Ups because of the princess treatment you get and the pretty gowns you get to wear to every event or even causally some days. You always dress and act your best around any of your mother and father’s company.

Growing up in a palace or being the princess has its downs when you have to act ladylike at all times, be on your best behavior because if you don't, a pinch to the arms or ears will pull you together. Being the princess of your father’s kingdom has its downs when you are forced into an arranged marriage based on the Kings of two countries' greed for power and hunger for money. Arranged marriage still being legal today will never not throw you out of your head.

You had a life before today. A life filled with so much goodness, treasurement, etc. you loved walking around in any outfit or gown with stares of men and women waiting for your father to announce your courting event. You were stunning to everyone everywhere you went. You walked with your head held high with the innocent lore in your eyes and posture. You were the admired one, so when the queen finally announced to the public that you were now courted to be a bride of prince Haschwalth, loud whispers and concerns from the public occurred causing the king to immediately silence their foolish concerns with whom you’re getting married to.

You and Jugram stared at the crowd with your head held high as your father and his father quieted down the crowd. With one look from Ywhach and your father, the crowd quiets down. Afterwards, you and Jugram announced your wedding day and invited everyone to join you two, which got screams of excitement and anguish from people all over.

A year later, your wedding occurred. The wedding was a hazard and a fucking playground of annoying kids and adults. You were slowly becoming a bridezilla once one of your bridesmaids forgot the dress due to her packing so late. You wanted a big wedding with family and friends, this was the consequence of going against your future king's wishes of a small wedding. You stared in the mirror at yourself and tried to smile as your cousin explained that your other cousin was running late from the bridal shop near your father’s castle.

“ It’s alright, c/n. Thank you. You may go, I need to be alone just for a minute please.”, You say as you stare at the crown that was supposed to be on your head minutes ago. You were late to your own wedding and you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth when you kept hearing the same orchestral music playing in the background.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes until you heard a knock on the door. You didn’t say anything to let them know to leave you alone. You would think that this person would take the hint, but they didn’t. The person came in, shutting the door after themselves. You could feel a chilling and mysterious air around which means the person is your newly made lover.

You spoke to him with your head down, “ Jugo, I don’t think I could do this right now, I still want to marry you. I want to marry you so badly but this day isn’t meant for me. I can’t keep dealing with thi-”

“ Nonsense, my love. We can’t call it off just for one little mishap. Pull yourself together, princess. Or do I have to, perhaps, make you.”, Jugo says while buttoning up your corset to your dress from behind even after you thought you were buttoned up perfectly. He always loves to dress you up, you’re his little doll, his Angelic doll. He didn’t like that he couldn’t dress you up for today, so that’s why he’s here for touch ups. After he was finished with your corset, he ran his hand down your back to smooth it out and then back up to your shoulders to massage them. Jugram’s hands felt like your favorite lotion smoothing over your skin, God you were in love with him as he was in love with you just as much.

You bit your lip and looked at the time on the clock sitting on the vanity mirror thing, they could wait another ten minutes right? You jumped at Jugram bending to kiss your check, standing you up in the process. His hands were soothing your arms as he kissed from your cheek and down to the crook of your neck, “ Tell me what you want, my love. Want me to make you squirt or cream? Want me to fuck you hard and fast.” As he spoke, he sucked on the skin he could see, seeming that you had your wedding dress on and only the top of your chest was available to him.

“ Want me to leave marks on your skin, showing everyone what’s mine? Or do you want to leave marks on my skin showing everyone what’s yours? Choose wisely, Angel.”, Jugram was teasing you and you were so ready for his dick, but he just continued rubbing your skin in circles and sucking or kissing on your sweet spots.

You wanted to scream but held yourself together, “ Make me messy, it’s only right I get the preview of our honeymoon, Jugo. Give it to me hard and fast, but please don’t make me stain my dress. You’re not even supposed to be seeing me before I walk down the aisle, bad luck is coming our way Jugo.” Jugram smirked a little against your shoulders, raising his pretty eyes to meet yours in the mirror.

He turned you around and helped you on top of the vanity, not caring if it broke under your weight or how hard he was about to fuck you. You cared though, he could see the panic in your eyes and movements; he didn’t know why, but he was turned on from the panic spreading from your eyes and running out of your eyes and across your entire face. He liked the adrenaline. The rush of only being able to get you to panic, fall, or fold underneath him.

Jugram unzipped his pants with his left hand as his right hand was placed on the side of your cheek. He passionately kissed you, detaching his lips to whisper to you about holding up your dress right before attaching his lips to yours again, this time more roughly. You liked the feeling of his lips on yours even if they are rough going.

As you tried to bunch up the front of your dress to allow him access to your pussy, he detached his lips from the slow lip locking kiss with a string of saliva being the only evidence of the passionate kiss. He helped you and saw your pretty white lingerie panties causing him to curl his finger under the ban, snapping it against your skin, “ Please tell me you have more of these for the honeymoon, my love. They look so pretty and perfect for the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, darling.”

You smirked at him as you tightly held onto one part of your dress bunched up in your right hand that held onto the vanity table and your left hand held onto the other side of the vanity table, “ You’ve seen other pussies, my dear Jugram? Not very wise of you but as for the answer to your question” you smiled at him, seductively looking up at him through your eyelashes. “ you’ll have to find out.”

He almost chuckled at your stupid little joke, but he was too occupied bending down to plant butterfly kisses on your white lingerie panties covering your sweet pussy he loved to see and be inside of. He soon reached into the ice bucket on the side of you with the champagne in there— pulling out an ice cube to put in his mouth. Jugram went back to kissing and sucking on your clit through your pussy with the ice in his mouth. You squealed at the coldness of the ice on your clothed pussy, it felt so good to be true. So good that you might squirt especially with the little licks and kisses he was planting on your soaking pussy. You grew wetter at this little act of service but had to stop it, “ Feels s’good, Jugram, but I need you inside of me.” Jugram stood up again and licked his lips— savoring the little taste of water and your pussy.

He took out his cock and lined himself up with the opening of your pussy, “ Such an impatient little slut. I’ll give you what you so desperately want, my pretty bunny.” You didn’t know where the nickname came from, but you liked hearing him say it especially with his deep, pretty voice.

His cock was so heavy and thick against your pussy and you couldn’t take it, so you tried to move your hips up and down. Jugram stopped that right away with a firm grip of your thigh, his other hand moved your panties to the side earning a groan from him as some of your wetness dripped down your pussy.

Jugram threw his head back when he pushed inside of your aching, wet pussy. He looked so beautiful with his head thrown back as Adam's apple bobbed so beautifully alongside his mouth opening letting out a loud groan, “ shit, such a wet pretty pussy you have. Want to fill you up. May I?” You nodded your head tk his question— your mouth was open in a large O as he dug into your pussy. Meanwhile, the only reason he was talking so much is because your pussy always have Jugram vocal with you, it was a weakness to him.

Your head hit the mirror almost shattering it, yet you didn’t give a damn— not when you have a big dick filling up your cunt. Your pussy welcomed Jugram in as he started to move in and out of you. He suddenly snatched your dress out of your hands and held it to your mouth, “ bite for me, doll. Aughhh! Fuck you’re squeezing me here.” You bite into your dress, holding it up for Jugram to see himself go in and out of your pussy with you clinging onto him like a girl who never wanted to let go. The grip of your pussy on his cock was a beautiful sight to behold.

Jugram couldn’t take anymore and needed to make you cum, so he can finally cum inside of your beautiful pussy— it will be the first for this day. He gripped your hips and slammed into you with neediness, the slaps of his hips hitting your inner thighs were beautiful. Your muffled screams were loud while he pounded inside of you without a care in the word if your cream dripped onto his suit or pieces of your dress. Your hands were on his pelvis trying to stop him from moving so fast.

“ No no, sweetheart. Take it, we only have a little amount of time. Should’ve pulled yourself together like I asked you, my love.”, he says in between hard thrusts. Your eyes widened as you felt your insides tighten at the feeling of his dick battering inside of your sobbing, tight pussy.

He leaned in to look in your eyes— holding eye contact with you as his cock swirled inside of you because of the rolling of his hips slamming into yours, you were sure your pussy was makin a mess on his cock and soon tears were building up in your eyes as you tried so hardly to maintain contact with him as he fucked you so good.

The grunts and whimpers he sung was beautiful and staring in his eyes was even more beautiful. “ Mmmphh, I cdwnt, plesssss.” Your muffled moans were so damn cute.

“ Let go for me, darling. Let Bazz listen to you come undone on my cock. Let him hear you scream as I pound you through your orgasm. Let him listen to what he can’t have. Fuck!”, Jugram moaned as he continued pounding into you. The objects on the desk you sat on fell on the floor as he pounded your pussy with want and need. Once you take in his words, your eyes widen at his sentence and you let go of your dress from your mouth because of your mouth opening in a loud scream.

Your cunt gripped Jugram so hard that he had no choice but to cum inside you as you came undone on his cock that was pumping and stretching you out even more. “ Fuckkkk, Jugo, ahhhnnn.”

Jugo came deep inside of your womb, “ Fucking hell! Nhnn~ such a beautiful cunt for a beautiful woman of mine.” Jugram eyes were back to normal after his vision went white whilst he came inside of you. He took in your messy look and grew proud of himself. Your hair was messed up, mascara ran down your face because of your tears of pleasure, and your lipstick was smudged across your face. He looked up at himself in the mirror and laughed— he actually laughed. Jugram’s lips had your lipstick smudged on them and his forehead was forming a party of sweat across it.

He kissed your lips before pulling out of your messy pussy, “ ahhh! You did so good f’me, so damn good. Now let’s get this wedding started, darling. Wouldn’t want everyone to leave before they got to see your gorgeous face, now would we?” He tucked himself back into his pants prior to helping you pull up your panties and fix your dress.

He suddenly turned to the door and spoke in his authority voice to someone outside the door, “ Bazz, since you were so incompetent to listen, you can inform the makeup artist and hair stylist that my wife needs a retouch, please include that I’ll pay them double their original amount.”

You then heard a kick of the door and a loud groan, “ such a dick move, Jugo.” It was Bazz's voice and your eyes widened at how he knew it was him. Jugram sensed that was gonna be your next question and answered you, “ Could feel his presence and heard his little curses as he listened to me pounding inside of your cunt.” You looked away when he said the last part, you forgot how brash he can be sometimes.

Jugram grabbed your chin, “ Open for me, pretty bunny.” You opened your mouth immediately and he knew he had you with that nickname now. Jugram looked in your eyes as something dropped on your tongue. You couldn’t see what it was; you could feel it instead. It was warm and stringy. It was his spit. This only turned you on even more as you swallowed the warm liquid down your throat. You were going to love being his wife.

A knock on the door solidified this moment and Jugram pulled away from you with a smirk. He soon turned to walk out the door, not before stopping in the thereshold where the hairstylist and makeup stylist sat there wide eyed at you two, “ I’ll looking forward to seeing you out there, wife.”

You smiled and nodded at him, “ See you out there, husband.”

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub @bxrbie1 @sylisan @lilvampirina @deftrow @uzxotic @tayler17-84

#jugram haschwalth smut #jugram haschwalth x reader #bleach jugram #bleach smut #bleach fanfiction #angelshubnetwork #bleach x reader #bleach x female reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #x black reader #black reader #anime smut #anime x chubby reader #anime men x reader #anime x black!reader #fem reader #female reader

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mcuamerica · 2 months

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The Shadowsinger: One

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. loss of family, gore, canon level mention of violence, Tamlin, heavy spoilers for ACOTAR series. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: (Eventual) Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After you were claimed as Amarantha's Shadowsinger, you meet the High Lord of the Night Court.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

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Prologue

Just 6 months before everyone was trapped Under the Mountain is when she raided your small northern Illyria village. And it was all because of that male you slept with. When you thought he was sleeping and allowed your shadows to come out, he saw. And he knew. He ran back and told his camp Lord, who told Amarantha the second he could. The Lord had sworn allegiance to her before a few others did as well.

Every single villager was taken to one of the camps she had. Sirona, Igna, and Oran included. Every single one of them but you. At first, she threatened you with their lives, and you begged her to spare them. You begged her harder when she threatened to rip off your wings. So, she made you a bargain. One she didn’t make with anyone else.

So long as you would be her personal Shadowsinger, her spy, and told her nothing but what you thought to be the truth, your friends and your wings would remain intact. You foolishly agreed. Not aware of the loopholes that she would find ways around in the coming years.

You were there when she trapped everyone Under the Mountain. You were responsible for her having bargaining power over certain High Lords. How she was able to put a leash on everyone’s powers. You were trapped with everyone else. But you were her spy, and she still needed information from the outside. So she allowed you out, but only when she deemed it necessary.

And you met Rhysand. The High Lord of the Night Court. The High Lord of your home. Or what used to be. And not just a High Lord, but a Carynthian, the highest ranking form of an Illyrian that you knew. And he was Amarantha’s whore.

Rhysand had a familiar feeling the moment he laid eyes on you. Not only because you reminded him of his Shadowsinger brother, but something deeper. Something he hadn’t been able to place for the 50 years Under the Mountain.

When you first told him of your bargain with Amarantha, he was wary to tell you anything. He definitely wasn’t going to tell you about Velaris. Not when you had a bargain to tell her the truth about anything you learned. And lying to her would only get you killed.

Then he learned why you’d done it. How you bargained to keep your friends, your family (albeit not blood related), safe. To keep your wings unharmed. At least unharmed by her. So he decided he would do everything he could to keep his secrets from you. Not because he didn’t want you to know, but because he didn’t want you hurt. Or your family hurt.

You had learned to lean on each other during those 50 years. Amarantha would often send you out together. Even though she trusted you and Rhysand to bring her valuable information alone, she also knew that you couldn’t lie about the information that he told her.

But Rhys had learned to keep you in the dark, away from conversations, when he knew you didn’t want her to know what was going on. You couldn’t lie about something if you didn’t hear it. If your shadows didn’t tell you.

And then Feyre came. The 19 year old girl, human, professing her love for Tamlin. One of the first things that your shadows whispered to you about her was that she indeed did love him. Something Amarantha forced out of you once they took Feyre to her cell. After they beat her, of course.

You remembered when Rhys went out for Calanmai, even if he didn’t tell you what happened. You remember him coming back from Tamlin’s manor and telling you about Clare. You were on the mission to go retrieve her, just to conceal Amarantha’s soldiers enough so they could do their worst. Thankfully you weren’t asked to question Clare… Thankfully for Prythian, not Clare. You didn’t know you were retrieving the wrong woman.

What Amarantha did to Clare, how she displayed her decaying body in the throne room, you could barely watch. You knew Rhys had taken her mind. He wouldn’t let innocents suffer. It didn’t help, either way. Knowing that Amarantha would use it against you if you looked away or left the room. Especially because she may need use of your shadows to scare the poor girl even more.

You watched as Feyre defeated the Wyrm, as she miraculously survived the second task. You knew she couldn’t read. Your shadows told you the second the spikes started descending on her and Lucien. You thought they were going to die. But somehow, after hovering over the second lever for so long, she chose the third. It was like someone told her to do it.

Rhys didn’t mention he was sending Nuala and Cerridwen down to retrieve Feyre on those nights after their own bargain. Or what their bargain even entailed. He didn’t want you knowing the secrets. Not when it would ruin the plan he had in place.

So you stood by as Feyre held the fate of Prythian in her hands, with the dagger as she plunged it into Tamlin’s stone solid heart.

It wasn’t easy, watching Amarantha as she killed Feyre for it. As Rhys roared for her, fought for her. All while Tamlin did nothing but beg. Granted, he was injured, but he didn’t do anything. Didn’t even fight as Feyre’s neck snapped. You even tried to send your shadows towards Amarantha to blind her for Rhys, but she shot out a string of magic and knocked you on the floor and held you there.

But Feyre solved the riddle. She freed you all. And you took a deep breath as you felt more magic swell in you than you noticed before. Maybe it was from it being gone for 50 years. Or restrained, at least.

And Tamlin killed her. He did what every person Under the Mountain was wishing, any sane person at least. Amarantha was dead and you were free. Free to keep secrets from whomever you wanted. Free to see your family without fear that you would endanger them.

That final night roaming about in the upper floors of the Mountain changed your life even more. When you approached Rhys to say goodbye. To go to the camp your family was being held at and take them back to the village. If anything was left. It was then that he gave you an offer that was hard to refuse.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “To Velaris.” He said and you tilted your head, not understanding what that was. Without even reading your mind, he continued. “It’s my Court that isn’t known to anyone. I’ve kept it hidden from everyone. From her… but I want you there. I want you to meet my family. I want my family to meet the female who helped me through these years…” he said. “I want you to meet another Shadowsinger.” He said.

You stood there, blinking for a few moments. “Rhys…” you muttered. “I have my family-“

“They can come. I’ll get you set up in a townhouse with them. And if you’d like, we could see about you working as part of my Court.” He said. “Think about it. I’ll ask your decision by tonight. Once you’re with your family.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. You bounded over to him and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done here.” You whispered. The only response from him was a small hum followed by a tight squeeze.

You stepped back and thanked him again before disappearing with your shadows to the camp your family was in. Where you would finally get to see Sirona, Igna, and Oran. Even if they weren’t blood, they had taken care of you and seen you mature all those years. You may have failed them the day Amarantha came, but you hoped they knew that what you did, you did for them.

Only, you made it too late. The camp had been burned down hours ago. There had been a spell on it, tied with Amarantha’s blood. If she was to die, all of the buildings were to burn with anyone inside. Her foot soldiers or not. And only this camp. As if that last final blow would finally break you. It almost did.

Your knees buckled as you made it to your family’s building, shadows wrapping around you as you fell to the ground. The building was still simmering with fire. But you could smell it. Burnt flesh, blood, and soot mixed together. It caused you to vomit right in front of the small room Igna and Oran shared together. As you staggered inside, you knew they were gone. You were alone again. The only people who loved you were gone.

But you still had Rhys. So when he went into your mind, gently scraping a talon on the walls he taught you to build up, you said yes. In despair. He knew something was wrong. So he winnowed to the camp. He spotted you outside your family’s building, holding onto a small book as you trembled. And he held you as you sobbed. Just as he had sobbed when he reached his family in Velaris. Only you weren’t as lucky as him. Your family was dead, and his was healthy and happy to see him.

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A/N: A reminder, this is a story about the reader more than it is a love story. It's quite a slow burn for a while. I started it immediately after I finished reading the ACOTAR series. I'm reading TOG now, no spoilers please.

Chapter 2 will be posted April 23rd.

Taglist: @cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickishadowsinger139

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#acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader #the shadowsinger #katie writes #acotar spoilers #minors dni

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the-heart-of-leo · 4 months

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Nick's so far under the bus that they might as well change the oil while they're under there.

Okay, because I'm a bit of a masochist and I have adblockers...

I'm going to count how many times James throws Nick under the bus:

@2:40 – 'This fell upon Nick as well, as a non-binary person on the ace spectrum, they wanted to include asexuality and non-binary representation to our videos. But because Nick's experience is not universal – There is no universal experience – people felt that we were delegitimizing their own experiences because we focused on Nick's.' (The reason we were acephobic was because we (meaning Nick) didn't think other ace people had problems and when it was pointed out to us by The Ace Couple that ace people did, in fact, face discrimination and conversion therapy, we (meaning James) accused them of homophobia and sicced their followers on them.)

@6:38 – 'The work Nick and I were doing on the channel...' (Because Nick was here too! Not just me!)

@10:46 – 'I was much more interested in the production of the videos than the writing of them, at this point. So after three or four videos, I brought Nick on as a main writer for the channel. The idea is that they would write the vast majority of the scripts. I would film, voice, and edit the videos and we'd split the money that came in.'(Nick was the main writer for the channel! In case you forgot...)

@14:40 – 'And then my mom died... and I became completely useless. I couldn't think straight, at all, so Nick had to completely take over writing duties.'(DID I MENTION NICK WAS THE MAIN WRITER. ALSO MY MOM DIED; FEEL SORRY FOR ME)

@19:44 – 'When Nick got back, he believed the script needed a first page rework. This was also when he told me he was going to be moving back to Ontario permanently soon as he wanted to live closer to family and live in a bigger city with more opportunities. This was a punch to the gut for me. We'd been living together since 2015 and had become quite dependent on each other. I felt like there was no way I could make this movie without him.'(We couldn't make the movie we promised because SOMEONE DECIDED TO MOVE and since I'm co-dependent on him, I moved with him and screwed up everything. Oopsie.)

@26:32 – 'But by accepting as many sponsors as we did, which became very important when Nick and I started living apart and suddenly had two rents to pay, we ended up needing to produce even more videos. Which, along with the work on Telos and making sure everything was okay with my dad while living thousands of kilometers away meant I had even less time for writing – putting more stress on Nick and leading to even more copy and pasting from me.' (See what you did, Nick?! We have to pay TWO rents now and we need to make even MORE videos. I'm not creepily co-dependent on my asexual ex-roommate at all!)

@32:50 – 'I know what misinformation had made its way into our past videos. That was not something we intended; in some cases it was information I was told by people I considered experts. In other cases it was information that we had researched. In other cases it was things that Nick had learned in university.'(Nick told me some of this stuff! ((which is fair because NICK ADMITTED HE DOESN'T DO RESEARCH)) In other cases it was because I assumed I knew what happened because I'm the smartest person I know so of course Lesbians had it easier! I just forgot that Radcliffe Hall's books were banned and destroyed because of that head injury I talked about earlier.)

And here's an honorable mention where the smug “I'm smarter than you” BS comes to visit:

'To those who say I plagiarized the plot from the novel Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix – Read the book. It's nothing like the plot of the movie. And 'The Final Girl' is a trope in horror movies so if using the Final Girl trope is plagiarism then basically everyone who's made a slasher movie since Texas Chainsaw Massacre owes the Toby Hooper estate some money.'

So, much like how James doesn't understand why people aren't upset at him because of citation issues, he doesn't understand that it's not the fact that he's using the 'Final Girl' trope... it's the fact that he stated the book as a favorite of his and then... suddenly he's writing a movie about the aftermath of the Final Girl. And given the plagiarism, it can not be taken in good faith.

First off, if you just google 'First Final Girl', it just says Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of the earliest examples. Another possibility for the 'First Final Girl' was actually Black Christmas which was released the same day in Canada so it is literally tied.

Secondly; the final girl trope is not required for slasher movies. One of the first 'proto-slasher' movies was actually Psycho so there were a few good decades between that and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (I could try and make a case that Lila Crane should count as a Final Girl; maybe even Mrs. Bates/Norman as a subversion... but I'm not that invested or interested.)

So... James was true to form, he just wanted to be a smug asshat and try and seem smart over something easily googled.

#James Somerton #*Face palm*

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allysunny · 5 months

Text

(You're) My Antidote Pt. 2 | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵐᶦᵍᵘᵉˡ ᵃʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᴷ⁵ⱽᵉʳˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷᶦᵗᵗᵉʳ

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: It has been a few weeks ever since Miguel saw you glitch due to the antidote he'd given you. He's far too afraid to face you, and hasn't seen you in a while. Peter B. Parker talks some sense into his head, reminding him of what's truly important.

Words: 2.6k words

Warnings: Angst, fluff, exhausted-Miguel, but also very soft-Miguel, Peter B. being a great father and having actually good advice, pain and screaming, syringes, blood, untranslated Spanish (please correct me if any of it is wrong!). Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I've finally gotten around to write Part 2 of this fic (I had nearly forgotten about it, so I'm very, very sorry for the delay), but here it is! I hope you all enjoy it, and I hope it was worth the wait!

“Miguel?”

The voice that called out to him was gentle, soft. The one voice he could listen to for hours and hours without ever getting tired.

Yours.

“Miggy… Wake up, my love…” He could feel your soft, deft fingers brushing his brown locks away from his face. You liked to get a good view of him at all times. You played with his hair for a while, and he hummed in satisfaction. He’d stay like this forever if he could, lost in your embrace and your touch, time suspended just for the two of you.

“Miggy, wake up… C’mon, we have things to do…”

No, all he had to do was stay in bed with you, while you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and making him forget about all his problems.

And then you tugged on his hair harder.

“Miguel?”

No Miggy? And why were you tugging on his hair so harshly? What was happening?

Ouch – that’d been a particularly hard tug. What the shock were you up to? It was far too early for you to be playing these sorts of games with him.

“Miguel? Miguel!”

Miguel’s eyes flashed open, and he blinked away the sleep.

Before him, was a red-haired baby, staring curiously at him, and back at her hand. Peter B. Parker quickly scooped her in his arms, talking to her in a soothing voice.

“C’mon Mayday, you’ve played with his hair enough. Let’s not hurt dad’s boss, alright? Give him a break.”

“¿Que coños estás haciendo aqui?” Miguel grumbled, running a hand through his now messy hair. It was bad enough he was asleep and not actually next to you but having mistaken Peter B.’s voice for yours annoyed him to no end.

“Jessica asked me to check up on you. According to her, you weren’t even supposed to be here.” Peter replied as his child climbed all over him and pointed her tiny web-shooters at the wall. “

“Yeah, well, I’m working. Not sure if you’re familiar with the concept,” he grumbled again, facing the monitors in front of him. Files and files and files on you, your health, your life, your family tree, his family tree, his DNA, just anything he could get his hands on. He’d fallen asleep on top of papers, each with a different combination of chemicals and elements, all of them experiments on a new antidote for you.

Failed experiments.

“I am familiar with the concept of work, Miguel, but it’d never occur to me to work myself to exhaustion while my wife suffered by herself at home.”

This seemed to get Miguel’s attention. Every single Spider-Person in the Society had warned Peter not to bother Miguel, and most importantly, to keep you off his mouth. Everyone knew what was happening to you at this point.

Pregnant with Miguel’s child, who was slowly killing you from the inside with 50% of his Spider DNA.

And everyone also knew that Miguel had been spending unhealthy amounts of time inside his office instead of at home, by your side. They were, of course, all far too scared to say something. He didn’t seem to budge, not to subtle pleas, not to direct asking. He was hellbent on finding a cure.

Miguel’s nostrils flared and he huffed, raising a finger, and pointing right at Peter’s face.

“This is none of your business, Parker.” He said through gritted teeth, anger evident in his eyes.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You might not care about anyone’s lives other than hers, but I am a husband too. And I would ditch everything – and I mean everything – to be with her at a time like this. Especially if I knew… If I knew she might…”

Miguel slammed his hands down on his desk, the sound echoing through his office.

“Do not finish that sentence. Don’t you dare.” Although he was furious, his voice was nothing but a whisper, and tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Alright, I won’t. And then what, Miguel? Forget this. Go home to [Y/N]. She needs you right now.” Mayday crawled on her father’s arms once again, and he rocked her gently. “Think about how she must be feeling. Terrified, all by herself, without her husband by her side.”

Miguel’s shoulders hunched. He was usually a tower of a man. But right now? He felt as small as possible.

“I can’t go back home,” he whispered, shoulders shaking. “I can’t go back home without an antidote. How am I supposed to face her? How am I supposed to look her in the eyes and tell her, her supposed genius of a husband can’t find a cure to the child that’s killing her?” When Miguel turned to face Peter, he was crying, and his eyes were drowning in sorrow. “Her screams, Peter… No man should hear such screams come from his wife… And I’m failing her… I don’t know what to do…”

Peter was stumped.

He’d never seen the cold, apathetic, always professional leader of the Spider Society behave like this. Sure, he seemed to be heartless and a jerk, but he knew that when it came to you, Miguel was willing to hold the weight of the world in his shoulders.

And it seemed like right now, he was.

Peter placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Go home, Miguel. Go to her. You really think you’ll ever disappoint her? She knows how hard you’ve been working for her. Just… Go to her, alright? Before you can’t and you blame yourself for the rest of your life.”

Peter’s words did something to Miguel, and he felt his heart ache. Slowly he nodded.

“Thank you.” Nothing else needed to be said. Miguel wasn’t one for words, but Peter recognised the weight behind the ones he had just uttered.

Within seconds, a portal had been opened, and Mayday was happily waving at the man that walked through it.

The house was quiet. Almost too quiet, but he quickly picked up on the sound of the TV coming from your shared bedroom. He took off his shoes and made his way to the source of the noise.

If Miguel were speaking the truth, he’d say he was terrified. He had spent the past two weeks working non-stop to find a cure and had only checked on you three times.

He was dealing with a bunch of different emotions, all gut-wrenching in nature and far too difficult to understand. He didn’t want to see you like this, feeble, weak, laying down in bed as the baby growing inside of you sucked what little was left of your life. He wanted to remember you vibrant and full of life, full of colour and smiles.

He didn’t want you to see him like this either. Tired, exhausted, dishevelled. Dark bags under his eyes, oily hair that had seen better days. He’d been working non-stop for you.

He didn’t want to come home only to tell you he couldn’t find an antidote yet, that you’d have to suffer more. Couldn’t deal with the failure.

But (as much as he hated to admit it), Peter was right.

Although he wasn’t ready to accept defeat, he didn’t want to take the time he had with you for granted. Shock, he’d been doing far too much of that.

He approached your bedroom and his gaze settled on you, neatly tucked in your bed, hands rubbing soothing circles on your belly.

You looked pale. Fragile, He was afraid to even speak, should the quietest whisper tear you apart.

And still, you turned your head to face him, and the whole world lit up within your smile.

“MIggy!” You exclaimed and tried your best to sit up even straighter. You opened your arms for him, and, just like a moth to a flame, he was instantly drawn to you. He kneeled by your side and laid his head near your hands. Your fingers reached into his hair and massaged his scalp, just like you knew he liked.

“Lo siento…” he sobbed into the mattress, afraid to meet your eyes. “Lo siento tanto, cariño…”

“Shhhh…” you tutted, hands reaching to his jaw, so you could cup it and force him to look up. When he tries to look away, you grip his chin with whatever strength you have left, and he finally meets your eyes. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

“No, my love, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so focused – ”

“I know,” there were tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Miguel was always so strong for you. It was your turn to be the strong one. How ironic. “But you’re here. You’re with me. With him.”

“Him?” Miguel asked, looking at your belly.

“I just feel it.” You offered him a smile, and he tried his hardest to reciprocate, ignoring the ache in his chest. Ever since he’d seen you glitch, Miguel had been afraid to show even the smallest of smiles. He was afraid the smallest of joy he felt around you would be taken away just as quickly.

After the first time, he’d refused to give you any more of that godforsaken antidote. Still, there’d been aftershocks. The following days, he’d seen you glitch once or twice, but it eventually faded away with time. On one hand, he was glad.

On the other, it only made him worry more. The glitching was over.

But you were still in pain.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” he asked, taking your hand in his and kissing it.

“Only if you shower first. You reek of Spider Society, Miggy, and the sheets are clean.”

He smiled once again and did as you asked, hopping in the shower, and washing the exhaustion and grime of the day off him. When he was ready, he put on a pair of sweatpants and walked into the bedroom, relishing in the way your breath hitched as you looked at his bare torso.

“Necessitas algo, mi amor?” he asked, raising an eyebrow comically. You looked away, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. You’d been married for years, and he still had this effect on you.

“Yeah, for you to get under the covers with me right now. But put a shirt on - you’re distracting me from my show!” Miguel chuckled, and he was surprised at how long it’d been since he’d last heard it.

“What’re you watching?” he asked, lifting the covers so he could sit next to you. He did so gently, afraid to disturb your peace – and the baby inside of you that thank heavens was giving you some rest.

“Pasiones Entrelazadas,” you replied, leaning into him. His touch had you melting, and you pointed at the television in front of you. “Isabella was getting married to Luis, but his evil twin Diego kidnapped him and took his place, and now Isabella thinks Diego is Luis.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, and Marisol, their mom, well, she’s totally on Diego’s side, because if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be the heir to her ex-husband’s money.”

“And why doesn’t she like Luis? Isn’t he her son as well?” Miguel shook his head, trying to keep up with the plot of another of your wacky shows.

“Well, Luis is actually the son of another man.”

“¿Qué?!”

“So, Marisol actually slept with two men when she was younger. She was married to Xavier, this big CEO guy, but she’s a little slut so she was fooling around with Antonio on the side. Xavier found out and divorced her. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. Luis is Antonio’s son, but Diego is Xavier’s. And if it weren’t for Luis, Diego would be entitled to his father’s fortune.”

Miguel was too stunned to speak.

“[Y/N], mi amor, that makes no sense.”

“Shhhh – Isabella is about to sleep with Diego!” You shushed him again, gesturing with your hands to keep him quiet.

“How can they be twins and still – “

“Shhhhhhhh!”

Miguel sighed.

“Fine, fine. Let’s watch.”

And you did.

For about ten minutes, before you fell asleep on his shoulder – not a rare thing to happen.

With all the care in the world, Miguel eased you down, fetching your pillow and propping it against your belly in the way he knew provided most comfort. He leaned over your body and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Perhaps all would be right. Perhaps you could endure this together, as long as you had each other. Perhaps, all would be okay.

These were Miguel’s thoughts as he drifted to sleep.

And then they were promptly interrupted by a loud, shrill scream, and the body next to him contorting in pain.

“Honey? Honey, I’m here!” He yelled, turning on the lights and sitting up to get a good look at you. You were sitting up as well, hands instinctively wrapped around your stomach. It’d become your priority after you got pregnant – the baby came first. Even if it was the very thing that was killing you.

Miguel could see you convulsing, limbs twitching and twitching, and you kept on screaming. He quickly sprinted towards his home office, opened a drawer on his desk and removed the (original) antidote and its gun, returning to your bedroom in the blink of an eye.

He basically threw himself on his knees next to you and grabbed your arm.

Once you realised what he was about to you, you tried prying your arm from him, crying loudly.

“No!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “P-Please! Don’t – Miggy, don –” your words were interrupted as another scream was ripped out of you. You fell flat on the bed as your body twitched, and Miguel had to try his best to keep himself under control. The woman he loved the most was suffering. She was convulsing and screaming some of the most blood-curdling, truly horrifying screams he’d ever heard. And yet, she was begging him not to use the antidote on her.

“My love, I’m so sorry… I have to…” he said, grabbing hold of your arm once again.

“No!” You sobbed, thrashing around the bed, silk sheets flying in every direction. “You’ll hurt him! God – no, please! Miggy, it hurts! Miggy, no –“ Another scream.

And another.

Miguel had two choices. He could stand by and watch as whatever was inside of you killed you. He could simply wait it out and watch as unimaginable pain consumed your every limb. He could wait and see what happens.

He could wait. And it’d be too late.

Shock it.

He did not need to think it twice. Miguel grabbed your arm and injected the antidote in your veins.

You were still in a matter of seconds, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling with tears in your eyes.

“Miggy?” you whispered; voice nearly broken.

Miguel looked at you and slowly brushed the hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“I’m here, mi amor. I’m here,” he repeated these words over and over again, reassuring you with his voice.

“Miggy… I think…” your eyes teared up once more. “Miggy I… I peed myself…” You closed your eyes and cried silently, looking away from him, which made Miguel’s heart break. You’d gone through thick and thin together, and peeing yourself was going to make him think less of you?

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” Miguel got up and slowly peeled the bedsheets from you to reveal your exposed legs.

That’s when all the air was sucked out of his lungs.

You hadn’t peed your pants. Not at all.

That was blood.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you've all liked it, hehehe. I'm sorry if the show seemed real shitty - I used to watch telenovelas with my nana when I was younger, and I swear their plots were all like this. We'd then sit on her porch and discuss whatever wacky plot was going on this time. It was fun.

Anyways, I hope you all have an amazing day ahead!

Taglist

@tarjapearce , @estella-satn , @meganswife , @cold-blooded-girls , @marcswife21 , @edgycatx

I'm not very sure how to tag people, so in case this doesn't work, I'm sorry!!!

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 3 months

Note

Lmao I had thoughts after thinking about how modern Vox's voice sounds in Hazbin Hotel and have a hc dump that might be up your alley.

I can't hear any noticeable markers of a 50s accent, as opposed to characters like Alastor or Zestial, who definitely sound like they came from the Era they died in. The idea of Vox changing how he speaks in life based on what's trending in media. Possibly even learning a Transatlantic accent just as it's going out of fashion, then adjusting to the new styles of the 40s and 50s as they rise and fall. In death, it's only natural that he keeps up the habit.

Vox amused the first couple times someone is taken aback at how "modern" he sounds when he's working out deals in the 70s or 80s. A potential business partner / victim mentioning that they expected him to sound more 50s and Vox rolling his eyes because "Obviously you don't understand what we do here, then. The 50s are long gone, motherfucker. Try to keep up." Maybe even pulling out, or making a show of considering pulling out of a deal because Vox doesn't do dated. He didn't get where he is by clinging to old shit.

Sure, he can pull out 'the 50s TV show host' or 'the 50s businessman' for the bit, but he hasn't spoken like that day to day in decades. He's not bent up about it either. He sees it as a strength – adapting with the times. (That's showbusiness, baby.)

And sure, there are things he is nostalgic about from his time on Earth, but he'll fuckin' die again before admitting that. Very occasionally he'll drop some 50s slang while bantering with Velvette or Val, but it's always "ironic" – usually after Vel has called him an old fuck. If there are prints or fashion that he's fond of from Before, he wears their modern "retro" counterparts.

The closest he'll get to admitting nostalgia for "dated shit" is being pleasantly surprised while eating at some place run by sinners who also died in the 50s and making a side comment about how "most of these places doing the 50s diner thing are full of shit but they nailed it."

On VoxVal: The only time any vestiges of his real voice from Before coming out being when he's high or tired out of his mind with Valentino. It's always in private during his most unguarded moments. Vox calling Val dollface or some other 50s ass pet names out of a habit he forgot he had buried deep down somewhere. Val thinks it's funny when it happens, but also kind of digs it. Vox won't specifically request it, but occasionally 50s pin-up is involved when they fuck around. If Vox happens to be real fuckin into it when the pin-up is period accurate, that's his business.

(@tvhostfromhell )

OOOHHHN IT CERTAINLY IS UP MY ALLEY~ MMM FOOD, DELICIOUS 🩵❤️

I'm totally subscribing to the idea that Vox's need for relevance and admiration would push him into actively controlling even something as "automatic" as the way he speaks. Reinventing himself every time to adjust to the situations in a way that is the most profitable for him. No wonder he's so evil; if you put so much effort into shaping yourself to others' liking, you eventually grow to resent the people you perform for. God, he's so repressed. If Val realized that nostalgia is Vox's guilty pleasure, he would go out of his way to indulge it, that's for sure.

I always feel stupid giving such a short answer for long asks but honestly there's nothing I could add? You are brilliant, thanks for sharing this!

#hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #ask #vox hazbin #headcanon

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tia-222 · 9 months

Note

also can you tell me how people are entering the void state through sleep paralysis

Sleep paralysis posts on Tumblr , you can read <3 :

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sleep paralysis and instant Manifestation cr prettymindset111

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sleep paralysis guide cr lovetd

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Rem sleep and sleep paralysis method

How to get into sleep paralysis :

( Link to the original post )

I found a method to induce Sleep Paralysis!

" First a bit of context. I'm one of those guys who absolutely cannot fall asleep unless I'm actually tired. I can stay in bed for hours and never fall asleep. So maybe this method is going to work better for people like me. "

" Basically, you need to follow a typical sleep paralysis inducing method. You lay on your back, stay completely immobile until your body falls asleep, but keeping your mind awake. If you're like me, this method just won't work. I can lay still for more than an hour but nothing will happen. I'll just start to get more and more physically uncomfortable until I just quit the practice. And this is exactly what happened yesterday. I layed still for about 50 minutes until I was too unconfortable, so I decided I was going to quit. I also needed to go to the bathroom. "

" But then, as I had plenty of free time, I decided to immediately start practicing again (something that I never do). So I went back to bed, but this time, I decided to find a comfortable position that I could fall asleep, which in my case is on my side. And that's when the interesting stuff started to happen. I forgot to mention that I also did a big, pleasant stretch in bed before starting the practice again. And I think this was a pretty important step, as it made me feel much more relaxed and comfortable, and also released the tension I had built up in the previous 50 minutes of laying still on my back. "

" Then I just remained pleasantly on my side, with the body relaxed. I started to naturally get on a more expanded mental awareness state, like when you're in deep meditation. At one point, I got a slight roll over signal (that annoying feeling of having to move in bed). But it was surprisingly weak, so I could perfectly ignore it and remain still. In this state of physical relaxation and mental awareness, I started to focus on that hum you hear when it's completely silent. Actually, this felt like a completely different hum from the usual one, but I'm not getting into detail because it's just too personal and abstract to explain. So I continued listening to this hum, until suddenly, about 25 minutes into the practice, it began. The Sleep paralysis kicked in, and it felt like a tremor in the whole body. The best part is that I was completely aware of the process. Finally, I managed to let my body fall asleep while my mind remained completely awake. I finally induced a Sleep paralysis. It took me around 1 hour 30 minutes of practice in total. "

" TL,DR: Lay on your back for about 45-60 minutes while remaining completely still. You're probably going to feel progressively more uncomfortable. When you feel like you absolutely need to move to release the tension, get out of bed and walk for about 30 seconds. Maybe you need to go to the bathroom like me. It is important that you move as slowly as possible, as you don't want to lose the relaxation state. Then you go back to bed, do a big, pleasant stretching to release all that tension from being still (this step is important), and you find a comfortable position in which you could fall asleep. I suggest laying on your side, with your legs slightly bent. Then you focus on the humming sound of your ear, while remaining completely still. You keep focused on the hum until Boom, suddenly the sleep paralysis process will begin right out of nowhere."

#ask answered #void state #void state tips #void thoughts #rem sleep #sleep paralysis method #anon ask

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canary3d-obsessed · 8 months

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 39 Part 3

(Masterpost) (Pinboard) (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Days of Future Past

After they leave Yi City, the gang comes to a proper town where there is a lantern festival going on, or else it's just a town that is really nuts about lanterns.

The juniors go shopping, looking at random trinkets, cell-phone cases, sunglasses, and electric toys that will break as soon as you get them home. Wait, that's my local mall I'm thinking of. But it's the same idea, pretty much.

Judging by the dream catchers hanging up on the right, this particular Ancient-China kiosk is owned by a traveling Ojibwe person.

Sizhui experiences a callback to symbolism from the past as he looks at an array of toy insects.

Jin Ling toy shames him, and Lan Jingyi comes to his defense.

Toys are for every age, people. Even if you outgrow one style of play, there's a lot of ways to enjoy toys, including tucking them in your robe and pulling them out to look at them whenever you have a memory cascade.

When Sizhui was young, he looked at toys with Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian didn't give him the toys, however, because "asking is asking, buying is buying." For Wei Wuxian, there was always a vast chasm between what he wanted and what he could actually have. Lan Wangji, of course, promptly gave A-Yuan toys, including a version of this grass butterfly.

The last time we saw A-Yuan with the butterfly is the last time A-Yuan saw Wei Wuxian. WWX frightened him and he dropped his butterfly, and everything went to shit after that. So I think it's fair to say the butterfly symbolizes some stuff.

(More after the cut!)

Jingyi points out to Sizhui that they have all of this same stuff at home in Gusu, which is what happens in a franchise-based retail economy.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian enter the market together, but Wei Wuxian quickly runs ahead, enjoying the energy and the sights. Grown-up Lan Wangji, unlike his younger self, seems perfectly comfortable in this crowded and busy environment.

Lan Wangji pauses at a seller's stall to experience his own callback to the past, as he contemplates a lantern with rabbits on it.

Here the show the show restrains itself and does not show us a flashback to the rabbit lantern of the past. That's ok, though; the first lantern scene is one of the most memorable in the show, so we can just replay it in our heads.

Back then, Wei Wuxian made a special lantern for Lan Wangji, and they released it together. That was the first time we saw Lan Wangji smile, and it's also when Wei Wuxian's pledge of chivalry turned their mutual interest/attraction into something much deeper.

While Lan Wangji and Lan Sizhui are contemplating lost things from the past (sky lanterns, by their nature, are losses, but in a nice way), Wei Wuxian is confronting one of his own losses.

He sees a little kid running to a vendor, and his mind's eye sees A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji sees Wei Wuxian's reaction to the child, and he stops looking at the lantern to watch Wei Wuxian instead.

When Wei Wuxian realizes that the child is not, in fact, A-Yuan, the air goes out of him.

Is it too cruel of me to point out that while Wei Wuxian's heart is breaking from realizing that A-Yuan could not possibly be shopping for toys in this market, the real A-Yuan, Lan Sizhui, actually is shopping for toys in this market?

Wei Wuxian allows himself to feel things, for a moment--and when he turns around and sees Lan Wangji watching him, he doesn't immediately paste a fake smile onto his face, which is some kind of relationship growth.

Lan Wangji takes this opportunity to say "hey, Wei Ying, I forgot to mention that A-Yuan isn't dead."

Ha ha ha ha ha of course he doesn't say that. He's waiting for the right moment to share this information, and Lan Wangji has no idea what constitutes a right moment for verbalizing anything. If he can't use his sword to communicate his devotion or his disappointment, he's in a pickle.

Also, Lan Wangji is aware of the popular Wuxia trope of "lone survivor of a massacred clan grows up to seek revenge," and the rules say you can't reveal the survivor's identity until they have gotten a job as the bodyguard and/or concubine of their enemy's innocent heir. Sizhui has made a good start by befriending Jin Ling, but he's not showing much inclination to revenge, so Lan Wangji is stuck for now.

Like a Lantern in the Dark

When Wei Wuxian sees the lantern next to Lan Wangji, he breaks into a genuine, sunny smile, and runs up to very gently tease LWJ about it.

Like a lantern in the dark, Follow on now, follow your heart

Back then the lantern had a single rabbit, and was a gift from Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji said he's used to doing things alone, and Wei Wuxian said that he can change. This rabbit lantern has two rabbits, and is about to be a gift from Lan Wangji to Wei Wuxian. Because Lan Wangji has changed.

"Lan Zhan, let's buy it"

Wei Wuxian has also changed. He asks for what he wants, instead of just wishing, and is delighted when Lan Wangji gives it to him. The lantern, people. Lan Wangji gives the lantern to him.

They take the lantern together, walk with it together, and immediately give it to (their son) Sizhui, telling him to take good care of it. Sizhui is confused but Jingyi knows what's up. Look how happy he is that his favorite teacher has a boyfriend.

I'm pretty sure ceremonial lantern-giving is going to be incorporated into Gusu weddings from now on, at least weddings where there is already a kid who needs a special role in the ceremony.

Brotherly

The kids tell Lan Wangji that Zewu-Jun is here to see him, and Lan Wangji makes this face:

Holy fuck, what is going on between the Lan brothers? It occurs to me that we haven't seen them together since Wei Wuxian came back to life. They were close, in the before times, but 33 lashes and 3 years of forced seclusion might have changed things.

Wei Wuxian gets back into his mask, and they go and show the sword spirit to Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen...absorbs it...into his body? What is actually happening here?

I mean, it looks cool, but that can't be healthy.

Now that Nie Mingjue's body has been - mostly - found, his fears are confirmed. He says that Nie Mingjue qi-deviated in public and "all his veins were broken," which I'm pretty sure should actually be translated "all his meridians were broken." Meridians are what carry your qi around your body. After that happened, nobody knew what happened to him and/or his body.

So he's sad about this, but not shocked. I feel like Lan Xichen maybe could have tried harder to find out what happened, but he never was as stubborn as Lan Wangji.

You Don't Know Him Like I Do

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji point out that Jin Guangyao is the obvious suspect in the current situation, but Lan Xichen doesn't want to hear it; he literally turns his back on them while he explains all the reasons Jin Guangyao couldn't be the person who's in control of the Yin tiger seal.

Lan Wangji is hard to read in this conversation; he lets Wei Wuxian do the talking. But he seems deeply suspicious of Jin Guangyao, and is maybe kinda resigned to his brother refusing to hear him.

I wonder how many sketchy things Lan Xichen has forgiven, over the years? How many does Lan Wangji know about?

"He wouldn't do that"

Lan Xichen's statement here is a direct parallel to Lan Wangji's statement way back in epsiode 21, which is the last time we saw the brothers talking about anything besides battle strategy.

Back then, Lan Xichen asked about the deaths at the supervisory office - you know, all those people who killed themselves in horrible ways and/or were killed by vengeful spirits. He wanted to know if WWX killed them using Yin Iron. Lan Wangji said nope, not my sweetie, he sure didn't.

"He wouldn't do anything like that."

Same framing, same camera angle, same blocking. Same message: the one I love would not do bad things using Yin iron. But - here's the thing - Lan Wangji was flat-out lying in that earlier conversation. He saw Wei Wuxian doing forbidden stuff and got in a huge-ass fight with him about it, only to deny it to his brother.

Parallels being what they are in this show, I think this is a strong suggestion that Lan Xichen is knowingly lying in the current conversation.

If we look back at that previous conversation, when Lan Wangji asked Lan Xichen "how can we understand someone's heart?" Lan Xichen gave a surprising answer.

"When looking at someone, you[...]shouldn't use a clear right or wrong, black or white to judge them. What matters is what their heart believes in."

When this conversation happened, it seemed that he was giving Lan Wangji advice about his Wei Wuxian situation, but in retrospect, I think he was thinking about Meng Yao, who had recently murdered a guy and defected to the Wen clan.

In the present moment, I think Lan Xichen knows that Jin Guangyao is sketchy, but he also believes there are some lines his friend won't cross. (He doesn't know yet about the fratricide, patricide, and filicide, or the massacre of the sex workers in the brothel where JGY grew up.) I don't think any of these guys really believes that "Yin iron" is one of those uncrossable lines.

The conversation is interrupted by the juniors having a loud argument inside about whether Wei Wuxian is The Worst, or merely bad. Lan Sizhui started this by very very mildly defending demonic cultivators. Jin Ling is super upset, because of the whole "Wei Wuxian killed my dad" and "Uncle Jiang Cheng frequently reminds me to kill people like Wei Wuxian and feed them to my dog" situation.

Lan Wangji immediately drops the important conversation he is having to go inside and deal with the more important problem of a child talking shit about his boyfriend.

Busted

The moment that Lan Wangji goes inside, Lan Xichen addresses Wei Wuxian by name, letting him know that he's recognized him. Watching him fondle his untouchable didi's shoulder might have been a clue. Wei Wuxian is alarmed but makes a quick recovery.

Lan Xichen is surprisingly kind to Wei Wuxian at the same time as being extremely extremely wary of him. He's not pleased to see him, and Wei Wuxian's 1000 watt smile and apparently genuine pleasure in greeting him properly receives a chilly response.

Wei Wuxian gently asks Lan Xichen to think about what they've discussed, but he doesn't press. He gives him time and space to think. In a way, Wei Wuxian is better at handling Lan Xichen than Lan Wangji is; Lan Wangji's stubbornness makes him inclined to push. Wei Wuxian is better at fitting his tactics to the situation.

He says his bit and then leaves Lan Xichen to think things over in peace.

Soundtrack: Follow the Heart by Yaima

#restless rewatch: the untamed #lan xichen #lan wangji #lanterns #twin prides #canary3d-original #the untamed gifs #the untamed #ep39

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n0n-sen-se · 9 months

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐒/𝐎!

includes ;; muzan, kokushibo, doma, akaza, hantengu + clones, gyokko, gyutaro, daki, nakime, rui, enmu content ;; tw: blood/mentions of blood, fluff (?), possessiveness, jealousy, slight yandere themes (?), biting a/n ;; just wanted to remind those who forgot! marechi refers to a special (intoxicating to demons) blood quality that only a handful of humans possess! + i wanted to include as many demons as i could, so apologies for the long post!

☆☆☆ # muzan kibutsuji !

he's known it since the start. in fact, it does make you special to him, its the reason why he noticed you so blatantly amidst other humans in the first place.

would try to use your blood in his research. after all, when would he get his hands on another marechi again? another 50 years?

but unfortunately for him. . . he's very fond of you.

at the back of his mind, whenever he takes you out for the night or watches you resting, he thinks to himself: when will you, and your blood outlive its usefulness? and when would be the perfect time to turn you into a demon?

surely you'd be very impressive as a demon.

he smiles to himself at the thought, looking over at your sleeping form with a tender feeling blooming inside of his chest.

☆☆☆ # kokushibo !

its. . . not surprising in the least. he could tell right away that something was off about you. its only when you clumsily hurt yourself that he confirms that you are a marechi.

he can suppress the urge to bite or eat you well enough, your just-- intoxicating to him altogether.

he likes to be near you now more than ever, accepting any kind of physical touch as a comfort.

likes to have you sit on his lap or have a hand on you whenever he can.

he would not allow any other demon (or anyone in general) to lay their hands upon you.

takes it as a challenge when someone oversteps their boundaries to you. will become violent as he's extremely protective of you + with added heft because of the fact that you are a marechi

☆☆☆ # doma !

he, like all the other demons, know just how rare a marechi is!

if he thought you weren't distracting before-! NOW, you are all he can think of

better than anything his followers could give him; no jewels, no gold, no praise could ever be worth more (it couldn't before he learned this, but now! now that he knows he's ecstatic!)

you whole-heartedly hold his all of his affections and adoration!

doesn't like the idea of fighting others over you (if its a lesser demon or a lower rank, he'll demolish them without a second thought. . .) but fighting someone like kokushibo is unthinkable!

but you know. . . he would.

becomes extremely possessive over you, not quite jealous per se. . . but he does need to know where you are at all times + occupy your space almost 24/7

gosh, you are just so damned precious aren't you?

☆☆☆ # akaza !

learning that you're a marechi is honestly. . . pretty bad news.

he worries that something bad could happen to you (being involved with demons after all) and that there's a chance he can't protect you like he wants

he doesn't mind your blood (his training disciplines him enough to not mind the fact that you're literally intoxicating)

spends a bit too much time with you, reassuring you that he's there for you and holding you. (side note: loves when you lay on him)

would not do anything without your permission, but if he thought turning you into a demon or hiding you was the right thing to do, he would say so

other than that, he's still your partner, through and through

☆☆☆ # hantengu + clones !

someone would have to point out to hantengu that you were, in fact, a marechi. and if that person was an upper rank demon, you can bet his personalities would split in fear

sekido, turns his rage onto the other clones and demons. they are inferior and could not keep you safe like he could

karaku, would love spending time with you, who cares about your. . . very potent blood? he's way more affectionate now that he knows

aizetsu, is (obviously) devastated to learn this. what if he's unable to protect you?. . . like karaku, he likes to be near you, laying his head on your lap when he can for comfort.

urogi, adores you! being a marechi doesn't really change a thing about what he thinks

zohakuten, is the one who can 'actually' protect you and makes it his sole purpose. after all, you do mean everything to him, its his job to do so.

when the clones learn about your blood, everything seems to be scaled up to 100 with them. . .

☆☆☆ # gyokko !

ugh! this is perfect! perfect! PERFECT!

it took him a moment too long to catch onto that-- particular smell that always followed you. he was always too preoccupied on his work or trying to garner your attention to realize it!

then it hit him like a pile of bricks.

you were a marechi! his own one of a kind work of art!

your blood crafted by the gods themselves and blessed upon him! of all people!

like the ❛true work of art❜ you are, he likes to flaunt and taunt the other demons with his relationship to you. (would definitely do that thing where he hides behind you and sticks his tongue out at them)

his body/tail is almost always encircling you (protective or possessive gesture? . . . maybe a bit of both)

i mean, in his eyes, you've always carried unique + immense beauty; but to have all the other demons jealous of him is the cherry on top! for a while (maybe a few decades or so) you and your presence become his ultimate muse

☆☆☆ # gyutaro !

conflicted about the fact when he finds out.

what is he supposed to do with you now? of course, of course! on top of being flawless in his eyes you're also a damned marechi! ACTUALLY FLAWLESS

(he's pissed off + currently picking the hell out of his skin with anxiety and frustration)

how could you hide something like this from him?! then, he calms down as ❛all is revealed to him❜

you're his, plain and simple. what's there to be jealous or insecure about? the problem (in his mind) lies within the other demons

currently: a little more clingy and teasing towards you. definitely likes to try and embarrass you by showering you with affection

overall, just indulging in your presence.

☆☆☆ # daki !

would not be able to tell on her own that you're a marechi, and when she learns that you are-- its like a dark heavy veil falls upon her: ❛you. . . WHAT?!!!❜

would try to bite you, and there's like a 50/50 chance she regrets the thought. or actually does it. . .

hopes you'll ❛get over it❜ and come cuddle with her again ♡

without a doubt, she thinks no one could over-power her to get to you (when/if proved wrong) she starts to cry because 1, she's weaker than she thought and 2, because what's going to happen to you if she can't protect you?

if she did ask her brother for help, she'd actually doubt him too. would gyutaro try and take you? because she'd fight with him too. . . just wouldn't want to resort to that.

she's not overtly possessive, but your dead wrong if you think she wouldn't be the literal embodiment of jealousy

would be really proud to be with you

☆☆☆ # nakime !

the biwa demon tries to care less when its revealed to her that you're a marechi:

❛is that a fact?❜

you've always been her source of comfort, its usually very reassuring to have you near her. . . but lately, its hard for her to concentrate on-just about anything she does.

is whole-heartedly trying to focus on her biwa and physically wincing at every missed note. . . but how can she when you're just sitting there overwhelming her thoughts?!

she's always adored your attention, and now that playing her instrument has become a tad distracting to her. . . she likes to spend time with you personally. you're thoughts on her infinity castle? would you like a tour of her favorite spots? and one new feature she is currently in love with is: holding your hands in hers.

wouldn't like confrontation with other demons, a physical fight is off the table. . . but she could sure hide you better.

☆☆☆ # rui !

accidentally cuts you with a string while the two of you are playing cats cradle.

is very interested in a ❛marechi❜ (at first he doesn't know what to call you as he's never encountered someone with your kind of blood before)

is over protective, to the point of casual violence (will casually slice up a demon that thinks you'd make a good meal)

besides the effect it has on other demons, rui doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. from the smell to the physical effects your blood has on him. . . its pretty minimal

but he can always be jealous-- and petty (he's 100% smiling at the prospect of fighting other demons over you)

really. he wouldn't allow anything to separate you from him. not because of anything. so your stuck with him, marechi or not.

☆☆☆ # enmu !

initially thinks that this is a WONDERFUL revelation!

then he's internally conflicted by the idea of eating you or spending his life with you. and will be for a long time.

dammit! just give him some of your blood!

becomes pesky pesky enmu.

and does revel in the fact that he can just openly lay on you, bothering and being as close as possible to you!

wants to spend a ton of time with you now that he knows + starts asking questions

finally thinks that turning you into a demon could be an amazing idea! : would your special blood make you stronger? would you be stronger than him? oh the possibilities!

but. . . as much as he loves having fun with you. . . he does care about your health. . . a little too much. everything in him is so conflicting right now.

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